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“Jeez, Kowalski, can you sit still for one whole minute, do you think?”
Sarcasm is dripping from Vecchio’s voice, and great, that’s all Ray needs to make his day complete.
“Sixty seconds all consecutive, you think you can do that? Or were you out sick the day they covered that in kindergarten?”
Vecchio’s got this soft voice that sarcasm just sounds wrong on, but he’s plenty sarcastic most days, and today it’s getting on Ray’s last nerve.
Vecchio’s got soft hands, too, and Ray is not thinking about that, because he’s pissed, he’s twitchy, he’s watching Vecchio’s knuckles tap absently on the passenger’s side window like he’s impatient for Ray to start the car and get the hell out of the 2-7’s parking lot.
“Can you not do that?” Ray asks. The words come out between his teeth, which, he only realizes at that moment that they’re gritted so tight his jaw’s aching. He makes himself start the car and pull out, right into fucking rush-hour traffic, and they head for the apartment at a crawl.
“I’m not hurting your precious vehicle. It’s not like I’m gonna, say, drive it into the lake or nothing.”
“That’s low, Vecchio. That is low.”
“Yeah, so? You still got your classic car. Mine got dredged out of the lake and junked.”
“The arsonist chick was after you, Vecchio. I gotta remind you how many times I almost got fucking killed because I was standing in for you?”
“You mean besides every time you stood within 100 yards of Fraser?” Vecchio pauses, and Ray doesn’t look over at him, because he knows Vecchio’s wearing that mocking grin of his. “You’re not complaining about getting Fraser in the bargain, are you? What’d you two get up to on stakeouts, anyway? I bet this car could tell tales.”
“Do not bring him into this. Just do not do that.” Fraser’s in charge of the Consulate now, in Thatcher’s old job, and the new job cuts into his liaising time with Ray and Vecchio. He hasn’t ridden with them in three weeks now, he comes home late most nights, and although Ray does okay with Vecchio, he just misses having Fraser with him on the job.
Outside of the actual help with the details of the job—nobody, but nobody, notices stuff the way Fraser does—he’s the one who remembers why Ray humps this job day in and day out, and he reminds Ray whenever Ray’s doubts come creeping back.
“Yeah, well it looks like I’m going to have to bring him into this,” Vecchio’s saying. “Maybe he can tell me why you’re such a bitch today. What’s the matter, Dewey swipe your favorite flavor out of the doughnut box again?”
“You’re the doughnut hound, Vecchio, not me. Anyway, I didn’t have time to take a piss, much less eat a doughnut after Welsh decided it was National Paperwork Day. Which, how did you get out of that? You too important to help me finish those reports, or are you just a little prick?”
“You love my prick, Kowalski.” Which, Ray does, but that isn’t the point.
“Save your misdirection crap for the perps, Vecchio. I already know all your interrogation techniques. C’mon. How’d you manage to stick your nose outside the station today?”
“Had to question that witness in the jewelry-store case. I can’t help it if the lady’s going out of town tomorrow and today was the only day she could talk.” Vecchio sounds way too smug. He knows how to work Welsh; he can sweet-talk his way out of almost anything, the son of a bitch.
“Besides, aren’t you the guy who’s always complaining about my paperwork skills? I’d think you’d be glad to do them yourself without me interfering.”
“Don’t remind me. At least I know the difference between one kilo and ten.”
“So I got a little distracted that day.”
“Nearly landed me in jail, you asshole.”
“You love my asshole, too,” Vecchio says. Smug bastard.
They’re finally, finally through all the traffic and turning into the parking space at the apartment, and Ray’s had about all he can take. He needs to fucking kick something after being stuck at his goddamned desk all day, and he’s not kicking the GTO; that’s sacrilege.
He’s not kicking Vecchio, either, although sometimes he really wants to, because he’s not into domestic violence. He’s too tired to go to the gym, he’s got too many knots in his stomach to feel hungry, and he makes it a policy now never to drink when he’s in a foul mood, because he’s seen enough drunks in the tank to know drinking doesn’t solve anything. He knows it first-hand, too; he learned it by surviving Life After Stella. So he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Maybe put on some music and dance, like he did when he lived alone—but Vecchio will probably be in his face about that, too, because why can’t a guy have a little peace and quiet at home after work?
Ray doesn’t need peace and quiet. Ray needs—Ray doesn’t know what he needs. He feels like he needs to pick a fight with somebody, a real fight, but there’s nobody to do that with. Down at the gym, they’d just clean his clock, and then Ray would hurt worse.
Vecchio gets the door open and he puts his hand between Ray’s shoulder blades and pushes him through. He slams the door behind them so hard he rattles something on the wall. “Come on, Stanley, give it a rest, you’re giving me agita. You got PMS, you go have something chocolate, like Frannie does.”
Ray turns and practically growls at him. “You trying to get me to take a swing at you, Vecchio? You really want that aristocratic nose flattened?” Ray’ll show him who’s the fucking girl here.
His fist is up in Vecchio’s face like he really might do it, but Vecchio’s obviously not buying it. He’s got this calculating look on his face, like he’s figured Ray out, and that makes Ray’s blood reach the boiling point.
“Vecchio—” he snarls, about to blow, but Vecchio grabs a handful of Ray’s t-shirt and freaking slams Ray back against the closet doors so hard that the louvers dig into Ray’s back.
Vecchio’s not big on manhandling people—he’s not as strong as Ray and he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty or, God forbid, messing up his designer suits—but he caught Ray by surprise and Ray’s got to admit, that hand pressing on his chest feels like iron. Vecchio presses harder and leans in, and then his mouth’s on Ray’s and it’s like iron, too, prying Ray’s lips open. Ray resists for a couple seconds, and then he realizes what a dope he’s being and he opens up and lets Vecchio in.
Vecchio’s lips are suddenly soft, but Vecchio's tongue is plenty strong, pushing into Ray’s mouth like it owns him. Maybe it does, because Ray’s suddenly weak at the knees and he isn’t sure whether he’s still standing under his own power or whether Vecchio’s hand is holding him up.
Vecchio breaks off the kiss. He mouths Ray’s jaw for a second, his tongue rasping over Ray’s stubble like he’s getting off on the feeling, which, to Ray that’s odd, because of how much Ray likes Vecchio’s smooth-shaven face and Fraser’s, too. Vecchio nips Ray’s chin with teeth and lips and tongues Ray’s neck, sending shivers over Ray’s skin, and Ray’s hard, he’s, oh, God, he’s so hard. His dick’s hard, his nipples are hard; Ray thinks if he had a hand free to feel his hair, it’d be hard, too.
His hands aren’t free, though, they’re gripping the louvers of the closet door behind him, and it’s a good thing he’s backed up against the place where the doors fold, because otherwise he’d have fallen in already.
Vecchio pulls back, gathering more of Ray’s shirt in his fist and yanking it up. It’s one of Ray’s tight muscle shirts, so it stays there, scrunched up under his arms. He’s still got his holster on, and it’s cool and heavy on his ribcage, but he knows the safety’s on, so the hell with it. Vecchio’s running his hands over Ray’s chest and down his belly, and then he’s unbuttoning Ray’s jeans just enough to slide them down a few inches.
Ray’s cock springs free and Vecchio drops down on his knees right there in the hallway and sucks Ray into his mouth like he’s been waiting for this all day. He can only get a few inches of Ray into his mouth, because Ray’s big, and although Vecchio talks like a bigmouth, he’s really not—but, oh, sweet Jesus, what he’s doing to those few inches. He’s got his hands on Ray’s hips, holding him so tight that Ray can’t move, he just has to stand there and let Vecchio do him.
Vecchio’s tongue is making real nice with Ray’s cock, wrapping around it and licking it and pressing into the slit so that Ray leaks pre-come on Vecchio’s tongue, and Vecchio swallows it down like it’s wine and goes back for more.
Ray can’t look, anymore, much as he wants to, because the sight of Vecchio kneeling there in his eight-hundred-dollar suit blowing Ray like it’s the best thing in the world—that sight is going to make Ray come real quick if he keeps looking at it, and Ray doesn’t want this to be over so soon. So he gasps and stares up at the ceiling, and at that moment he hears the jingle of keys outside, and the door opens.
It’s Fraser, of course; nobody else has keys except the landlady, and she’s not one to barge in without knocking. Besides, Ray knows those footsteps. So Ray doesn’t look, because seeing Fraser’s face right now is going to do the same thing to Ray that glancing down at Vecchio would.
Ray hears Fraser gasp, and he hears the door click quietly shut and the bolt get thrown. There’s another hissing indrawn breath from Fraser, and the sound of something getting put down on the floor, and most of all there’s the sound of Vecchio sucking Ray, which is kind of slurping and wet and includes little gasps and mmms from Vecchio, like he’s getting off on it as much as Ray.
So now the sounds are just as risky as the sights, and Ray figures he can look at Fraser now, so he does, and he sees Fraser standing just a few feet away with his mouth hanging open. His keys and the Stetson are on the floor.
The Stetson. Is on the floor. Which, that’s proof that Fraser’s not thinking straight. Ray’d grin if he had the energy, ’cause it takes a lot, these days, to make the Mountie’s jaw drop.
Ray’s got to hand it to him: Fraser’s all about action. He's next to them in no more than half a second, unbuttoning his tunic and tossing it on the floor next to the Stetson in a very un-Mountie-like fashion. He reaches up to palm Ray's cheek and kiss him hotly, while somehow working his own pants open at the same time.
"God, Ray, Ray," Fraser says after he comes up for air, his voice low and fucking sexy as hell. Ray lets out a groan as he watches Fraser run his fingertips along Vecchio's lips where they’re stretched tight around Ray's cock. Vecchio moans around Ray's dick, making him buck up into Vecchio's mouth, but he doesn't miss a beat, just keeps sucking Ray so good.
Fraser's lips are on his neck now. Fraser’s still whispering his name, their name, and breathing hard, and Ray looks down to see Fraser's cock, hard and heavy, poking out of his half-open pants.
And Ray realizes his hands are free, they're free, so this is good. He lets go of the louvers and reaches around Vecchio to grab the waistband of Fraser's pants. He tugs it, pushes it, pushes at the boxers. He gets the pants to come down and the boxers to flop open—at least, as much as something can flop when it's half cotton and half starch.
There's Fraser's dick, now, real hard and dark and shiny like it wants to burst, and Ray's mouth waters instantly, like when somebody splits an orange in front of your face and offers you some, and the juice effri—effer—sparkles on your tongue.
Yeah. Only Ray can't move much, because Vecchio's got him tight, his hands holding Ray's hips against the louvers, not even letting him thrust, and Vecchio's tongue is working him like Ray is the most delicious thing ever, and Ray's mouth is still watering like he's going to get that orange, but...no, his mouth is empty, and he gasps, and writhes a little against Fraser's shoulder and feels the swipe of Fraser's tongue on his neck, and notices how empty his mouth feels.
And Fraser, somehow he knows; he lifts his head and zooms in to kiss Ray again, and then Ray's mouth isn't empty anymore; Fraser's tongue is in it, kissing him, owning him, needing him. Pushing, pushing.
Vecchio's tongue, on Ray's cock, is saying the same thing. Love you, need you, Ray, Ray.
Vecchio's getting down to business now, working him just right, and he's not going to last long like this, not with the way Fraser is fucking Ray's mouth with his tongue. Ray wants to thrust up into the tight, wet heat on his cock, but Vecchio isn't letting him move an inch. Fraser pulls back, just a little, and moves his mouth back to Ray's neck, talking softly.
"Come on, Ray, please, come," Fraser says, and Ray groans at the sound of Fraser's voice, so rough. God, he can get Ray going just by talking to him. Vecchio speeds up at the sound of Fraser's voice, and starts really moving, and Ray is moaning and wailing and making a fucking racket, and he doesn't care because Christ, this is so good.
Vecchio pulls back and swipes his tongue along the head of Ray's cock, and that's it, he's giving it up, coming into Vecchio's mouth while Vecchio hums and swallows and just holds him through it. He's slumped up against the closet doors, panting, Fraser's arms around him, Fraser's mouth on his neck. He kind of wants to fall asleep, because he's a guy and he just got his dick sucked, but he remembers that he's the only one who's gotten off around here.
He looks down to see Vecchio sitting back on his heels, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief. Vecchio smiles up at him, and Ray finds himself grinning, which is, wow, the first time today he’s done that. Maybe the first time all week. He turns and looks down to see Fraser's cock still rock hard and leaking, and reaches down.
"Yeah," Vecchio sighs, and Ray starts working Fraser, slowly.
"Oh, Ray," Fraser breathes into his ear. "Oh. Oh, I—" And Fraser's shivering, like he's so close.
Just the thought sends new energy into Ray, and he comes fully awake and alert. His right hand is already firm around Fraser's cock, pumping him, loving the feel of the smooth glide of foreskin over the head. Ray slides his left hand under and around and cups Fraser's balls, weighing them gently. Fraser shoves his dick into Ray's hands and gasps, real loud, like he can't help himself, and God, Ray loves that. His dick twitches even though no way is it going to stand at attention right now; Vecchio took care of that real good.
But Ray feels turned on anyway, by Fraser's hard, hot flesh in his hand and Fraser's warm lips on his neck. Fraser's lips—God, most days, Ray could come just thinking about them, about Fraser's pouty downturned mouth and how he kisses Ray so good. Fraser's lips aren't really kissing Ray right now, they're just sort of parted against his throat, and Fraser's starting to breathe hard like he just ran all the way around the park.
Fraser's cock is like velvet in Ray's hands, but Ray's mouth is still watering. He slides down to his knees next to Vecchio, who’s steadying him with gentle hands, and takes Fraser’s cock into his mouth.
"Yeah, Ray, yeah," Vecchio says, and his hands are still on Ray; he's pushing Ray's shirt up farther and smoothing his long fingers over Ray's back like he's touching something precious.
Shivers of pleasure go up Ray's spine, radiating from Vecchio's hands right up into Ray’s hairline. Ray's suddenly wondering who's making love to who, right now, because he thought he was doing Fraser, but here, caught between Vecchio's hands on his back and Fraser's cock in his mouth, Ray suddenly feels like the two of them are holding him, and he's suspended, like on an invisible tightrope or something. Yeah, Ray can feel it; it's vibrating, it's moving to a beat, and there's music in Ray's head, music that's more than Fraser's raspy, rhythmic breaths, more than Vecchio's lips pressing quiet little kisses onto Ray's back while his hands hold Ray steady for Fraser.
Ray moves his hands to Fraser's hips and takes Fraser's cock in just the way Vecchio took Ray, but he doesn't hold Fraser still; he just balances and lets Fraser thrust as much as he wants, lets Fraser fuck his face. Vecchio's hands are still on Ray's back, supporting him and somehow preventing Fraser from going too deep. Ray knows Vecchio's got to watch them really close to do that, and the thought's making Ray's cock really, really want to wake up now.
Fraser's rhythm's gone all staccato and uneven; it's not going to be long now. "Yeah, that's right, that's it," Vecchio whispers against Ray's back. "You're doing it perfect, Ray, you're just perfect; isn't he, Fraser?"
Fraser's beyond words, but he's nodding, and his mouth's falling open, and he jerks his head up and back and whacks it against the louvered door. He doesn't seem to notice, though, he just lets out this long, rolling sigh, and goes suddenly still, and then he floods Ray's mouth with hot come, thick and slightly bitter and very good. Ray swallows and swallows, until Fraser pushes gently at Ray's hair, telling Ray his dick's getting too sensitive, and Ray licks the last drops of Fraser's cream from the tip of his cock and lets him go.
Fraser slumps against the closet but somehow stays on his feet, and Vecchio moves his hands off Ray's back to throw his arms around both of them, Ray at the shoulders and Fraser at the knees.
"God, God, that was..." Vecchio's murmuring, and Ray smiles and turns his head just enough, and then Vecchio's kissing him like he can't get enough.
God, Vecchio's licking Fraser's come right out of his mouth, and damn, he can kiss. Ray lets go of Fraser, who is propped up against the closet, panting. Ray turns in Vecchio's arms, getting lost in the kiss, knowing that Fraser's got to be watching them right now, and Ray’s cock is really starting to wake back up, like he’s some fucking teenager or something.
Vecchio is letting out these deep moans, right into Ray's mouth, biting his lips and fisting his hands in Ray's hair. Vecchio has to be so turned on at this point, because he just sucked Ray off and watched Ray blow Fraser, and, yeah, Ray can feel Vecchio's cock hard up against his thigh now. God.
Ray has a plan, because Vecchio deserves something real nice. Ray pulls away from Vecchio, which is really fucking difficult, then stands up shakily and tugs on Vecchio's wrist to get him up on his feet. Fraser's looking a little more with-it now, and he’s trying to tidy himself up.
"Do not do that, Fraser," Ray says, pulling his dazed and confused partners toward the bedroom. "We're just gonna get messy all over again, but in the bed this time."
Ray maneuvers them into the bedroom and lets go, shouldering out of his holster and shedding his own clothes in like half a second. He flops down on the bed, on his back. He lifts up his leg, planting his foot on the bed and shifting his knee to the side. If Vecchio doesn’t understand the invitation, then he doesn’t deserve what Ray’s offering. Fraser’s face says he understands it. He flops down on the bed next to Ray and plants light, feathery kisses on Ray's face.
Vecchio just stands there, eyes totally glazed over, and stares at Ray like he's a fucking smorgasbord and Vecchio doesn't know where to start. Fraser, however, he gets with the program, like a good little Mountie, moving away from Ray to grab the lube off the bedside table, tossing it to Vecchio. Vecchio reaches out to catch it.
"Well?" Ray says, putting his hands behind his head, waiting. He looks up to see Vecchio moving toward him, looking like a cat stalking a bird. Oh, yeah.
Vecchio is still fully dressed, but he's not bothering about his fancy silk clothes; he's kneeling on the bed and sliding up towards Ray, and he's smearing lube on his fingers at the same time.
Ray gives him a slow, easy smile and stretches back like he's just relaxing, and he lets his legs fall open. His cock's definitely hard now and even leaking a bit, and he moves one hand out from under his head and sweeps it down his body, over his chest, over his belly, toward his dick, real slow.
Vecchio's stopped moving with his lubed hand outstretched, like he forgot it was there, and his big green eyes have gone wide and round. Ray strokes his fingers over his cock from the tip down to the base, and he can't help letting out a little sound when he does that, because of how sweet it feels, especially with Vecchio's eyes on him the whole time.
Ray moves his hand down a bit more and cups his balls and then he's lifting them, showing them off, showing off his big dick, which, he has to admit, is pretty big, looks damn big on a skinny guy like him, and he sees Vecchio noticing that—not like Vecchio didn't already know it, but Ray sees appreciation in Vecchio's eyes, and it makes Ray chuckle softly.
Next to him, Fraser has stopped moving, and he's looking down Ray's body, too, watching what Ray’s doing, watching what it's doing to Vecchio.
Ray turns his head and catches Fraser’s eye. “Take your clothes off,” he mouths, not even having to say it aloud, and Fraser gets it and starts opening buttons and zippers without jostling Ray or Vecchio at all.
Vecchio looks—there’s no way to describe it but hungry, that’s how he looks, like he’s got to have Ray now, so Ray tilts his hips a little, still cupping his balls, lifting them so Vecchio can see…yeah, Vecchio sees. He looks back down at his hand like he just remembered he had a hand, and he puts his slick fingers on Ray’s asshole and presses…and his middle finger is suddenly in up to the knuckle and it’s still sliding, easy and smooth.
It feels good; it doesn’t hurt a bit. Vecchio’s finger is long and tapered and Ray’s used to this; he knows just how to open up to Vecchio, he knows how gentle Vecchio is with Ray when he’s like this, and Ray opens up to him, sweet and easy.
“Ray, yeah…God, yeah. Beautiful,” Vecchio says, under his breath, but Ray feels warm all over, and he’s grinning, he can’t help it, because of how much he loves it when Vecchio calls him Ray.
Fraser’s finished stripping and he’s pressing his solid frame against Ray’s side. One of his hands is in Ray’s hair, making Ray tingle all over. The other hand…Ray glances over to see…Fraser’s other hand’s on his own dick, just petting it, gently; it’s only a little full now, still not totally hard, but even that much is amazing, though Fraser’s managed it before quite a few times. He’s just a little bit better than ordinary guys at everything; Ray had to get used to that a long time ago, and it wasn’t always easy. But now? Now that Fraser’s with Ray and Vecchio, now it’s just a neat thing, a thing for Ray and Vecchio to enjoy, and they do.
Vecchio’s got two fingers in Ray now, and his other hand’s touching Ray’s cock, and Ray curls up towards that sweet, sweet touch. He glances at Fraser and Fraser winks back, and before Vecchio twigs to their plan, Fraser’s up and off the bed and he’s stripping Vecchio’s fancy clothes off him at top speed.
Vecchio groans as Fraser unbuttons his shirt. He pulls his fingers out of Ray's ass just for a second so he can get the shirt all the way off, then he pushes his fingers right back in, and, God, that feels fucking fantastic, Ray's so open now. Fraser reaches around, still behind Vecchio, helping Vecchio out of his pants and underwear and tossing them onto the pile of Fraser's clothes on the floor.
Ray's murmuring to Vecchio now, ’cause Vecchio has his fingers pushing up against Ray's prostate, causing white sparks behind Ray's eyes. "God, Vecchio, come on, do it, come on, fuck me," he says, feeling Vecchio tuck in a third finger. He pushes back hard against it to feel the stretch, feel each little movement of Vecchio's long fingers inside him. Ray watches as Fraser slicks up his own fingers behind Vecchio, staying quiet, even though Vecchio has to sense what's happening back there, has to have noticed that Fraser's ready to go again.
Ray can feel his own dick getting harder and jerking a little with every deep thrust of Vecchio's finger. When Ray’s cock starts to leak, Vecchio must take that as a cue, because he pulls his fingers out of Ray's ass, gently, and reaches for the lube to slick his cock up. "Easy, Ray," Vecchio says, lining his cock up with Ray's ass.
When Ray feels the blunt head of Vecchio's cock touch his ass, he tries to relax, stay loose and open so that Vecchio can fuck him hard and good. Vecchio doesn't hold back, doesn't hesitate at all, just pushes inside steadily and, fuck, Ray feels almost split open, splayed out, in the very best way. Vecchio's worked up, has been for a while, too worked up to be gentle and careful. When he gets like this, Ray usually just holds on to something and lets Vecchio pound him into the mattress, because that’s the only thing that can calm Vecchio down. It’s pretty fucking fantastic, so it's not like Ray complains, or anything. Ray wraps his leg around Vecchio, hooking his heel around Vecchio's thigh, pulling him closer and pushing Vecchio's cock all the way into his ass.
"God, fuck," Vecchio moans, and Ray answers with a moan of his own. He looks up to see Fraser. Fraser’s eyes are lidded, his cock’s swollen and fucking gorgeous, and he moves his hand down to rest on Vecchio's hip and pushes his slick fingers unceremoniously into Vecchio's ass. Vecchio cries out and thrusts hard into Ray's ass. Christ.
“Come on, Ray,” Ray tells Vecchio, giving him the same gift, calling him by his first name, which they almost never do anywhere outside of bed. But Vecchio’s saying other names now, including Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and he’s got his eyes shut tight as he pushes his ass back onto Fraser’s fingers, moans, and then snaps his hips quickly forward so that his cock thrusts deep into Ray again. Vecchio’s cock is hot and strong and alive inside Ray, and Ray loves that feeling so much that he can’t even come close to putting words to it, except the ones he’s been repeating all along: Ray, fuck me, fuck me.
Above Vecchio’s back he sees Fraser’s face, as gorgeous as an angel’s, with those big blue eyes that reveal his basic, soul-deep goodness. Fraser can’t hide it, never could, and it’s one of the things, maybe the biggest thing, that Ray and Ray both love him for. There’s something about Fraser that can’t be tainted no matter what, and even now as he’s kneeing Vecchio’s thighs apart and shoving his thick cock into him—gasping and flushed and looking so fucking hot that Ray’s just barely hanging onto his sanity, here—even now Fraser’s the picture of innocence and Mountie-cool perfection, and Ray’d kiss him senseless right this minute if he could reach.
Ray holds still, because this daisy-chain thing isn’t as easy as it might look, and Fraser pushes all the way inside Vecchio, carefully, deliberately. Vecchio catches his breath and winces and then relaxes, sighing, oh, good, Benny, that’s so good, just like that, yes and he’s pretty superhuman too, in his own way, because instead of going soft, his dick goes granite-hard inside Ray. Which, how great is that? Because Vecchio had a tough time with the whole getting-fucked thing in the beginning, but he’s so brave, he kept trying. Now Vecchio loves getting fucked, at least as much as Ray does, and that is a hell of a lot.
Fraser’s eyes go hot, and Ray can tell Fraser’s shaking a little with the effort of holding back one hell of a thrust. Vecchio’s been motionless inside Ray too long, though, and Ray moves his hips a little to get things going again. He can’t help the little whimper that he makes when Vecchio pulls back like he’s going to pull out, but Ray shouldn’t have worried, because he knows Vecchio and Vecchio knows him; Vecchio thrusts hard, all the way in, and then holds for a second as Fraser does the same to him, and all three of them shout at the same time.
“Oh, God,” Fraser murmurs. Ray catches his gaze and smiles a little, and in the corner of his eye he sees Vecchio smiling at him knowingly. They do the thrusts again the same way, Vecchio into Ray first and then Fraser into Vecchio, their hips making a slapping sound when they’re all the way in, and, God, Ray’s not going to last long now. Vecchio’s moaning, his cock inside Ray is full and heavy, and his balls are tight up against Ray’s ass. Ray jacks his own cock for a moment, but then a warm hand closes over his, and it’s Fraser’s, Fraser’s big blunt fingers twining around Ray’s, and both their hands around Ray’s cock, and as they hold still for the one-two thrust again, Vecchio breathes, “Oh, my sweet Jesus, that is the hottest thing I’ve ever—” and he doesn’t finish. He freezes, and his face twists up, and his jaw drops open, and as he floods Ray’s ass with wet heat, he looks like he’s seeing his sweet Jesus, he really does.
Vecchio’s eyes roll up, and his ass must be squeezing Fraser’s cock like there’s no tomorrow, because Fraser’s hand tightens around Ray’s hand and Ray’s cock, and that’s it, Fraser’s gone, too. Fraser’s face is contorting up just like Vecchio’s, like Fraser’s seeing the Northern Lights behind his scrunched-up eyelids. His beautiful mouth is wet, and a red flush climbs his chest and his face.
“Oh, God, oh, God,” Ray hears, a desperate sound—and wow, that was Ray. Fraser’s hand is holding Ray's and both their hands are wrapped around Ray’s cock and they’re moving real fast, faster, sending pleasure shooting up Ray’s body and making his ass clench tighter around Vecchio, who’s still hard enough to stay in. Ray’s body doesn't feel big enough to hold all the pleasure. It’s shooting out of him in all directions like some invisible force, surrounding him and his partners and filling the room.
Ray’s coming in hot spurts all over his and Fraser’s joined hands and Vecchio’s chest. He forces his eyes open and sees Vecchio’s face so close to his, and Fraser’s right behind Vecchio’s, his chin propped on Vecchio’s right shoulder, and he feels their warm breaths on him. Ray realizes they’re both fucking him, Fraser in Vecchio and Vecchio in Ray, they’re all connected, and they’re all trembling with the force of Ray’s orgasm like it was theirs, too.
Ray’s heart feels like it’s spilling over. He has Vecchio and he has Fraser, and how did Ray Kowalski—scruffy cop-detective and con-job and Stella’s pathetic ex-husband—how did he ever get so lucky?
Fraser and Vecchio are shaking hard, now; they can’t hold the position any more. They’re pulling out, Fraser first and then Vecchio, and they’re tumbling onto the bed to lie flat, one on each side of Ray, holding him. Fraser’s smoothing Ray’s hair and nuzzling his ear, and Vecchio’s kissing Ray’s throat with soft lips. They’re both sweaty and sticky on Ray, and Ray is sure he’s stickier than both of them put together, but he couldn’t care less. He works his tired arms around them, and lets out a long, sweet breath, and feels better in that moment than he thinks he’s ever felt in his life.
Ray doesn’t remember what he was bitching about before. It has to have been pretty stupid, he guesses, because he can’t even fucking remember it, except for the part where he came slamming into the apartment with Vecchio on his heels, and Vecchio said something, and Ray threatened to haul off and hit him, but Vecchio just calmly pushed him against the wall and shoved his pants down and blew him senseless.
Ray can’t remember what the hell was eating him all day, he can’t remember if Vecchio even argued back much or whether Vecchio just took it on the chin all day, but he knows Vecchio and Fraser have the key to solving Ray on those days when he’s had too much of this job, and everything that goes along with it. He’s done it for each of them, and they’ll all do it again anytime one of them needs it.
They need each other. That’s what it all came down to, after the Arctic adventures were over and after Vecchio’s Stella daydream came crashing down to reality. Ray can’t even get worked up thinking about Stella these days, because she’s fine, she’s okay, and Ray doesn’t need anything from her anymore. He doesn’t need anything but what he has right here, his two partners in the bed with him, hogging all the space and draping their big heavy limbs all over him as they drift into sleep.
And Ray is healed, he’s healed.
—end—