"Look, it’s gonna take that dude 15 years before he realises what he’s missing. He’s missing a lot, because you’re fucking magic. If that’s too long to wait, I can get Lemmy from Motorhead to cut off his cheeks with a straight razor. Totally up to you." |
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thelockbox2014-10-02 01:02 am
no subject
He wanted to keep him. Life was too fucking boring not to try, right? ]
A buddy, huh? That's cute. Buddy. I dunno what sort of friendship that would be, but it sure sounds nice. Heh, buddies. Like fuckbuddies.
[ He was a little distracted but pretending not to be, all but nibbling on the glass rim of his beer bottle as he watched Ray, tonguing it absently. ]
Yeah. [ Haunted, right. That was the thing about conversations. You had to stop getting distracted by things going on and pay proper attention to the subject matter. Ray had checked the tuning; he had an ear, and he knew what he was doing. Joe Blow strangers usually just strummed and played with the guitars absently, like unevolved cavemen content to just make a noise.
So he was distracted. So shoot him. ]
There's like these uh--glowing balls of light things. Not that I've seen one. Other people, you know, they get funny about all the space, the history. It gets into their heads. Personally I think they were high.
[ He took another sip, looking thoughtful, then stopped performing oral on the bottle and forced himself to set it down on the bar. It was almost done with anyway. Drinking slowly was for people who couldn't keep their alcohol down. Besides, it was funny. Ray and that guitar, like he'd been drawn to it by the irony of the universe... ]
You like that one, huh? You keep it. It's uh - uhm - Billy Talent, you know. [ He grinned. ] People used to say we were the spitting image of each other too, but I never met the guy so I don't know.
Come on. [ He said, grabbing two more beers and hopping down, then setting off back down the hall for the stairs. ] Bring it, let's go up on the balcony.
no subject
N-- [Not fuckbuddies. But who the fuck cares? It's entertaining that anyone even thinks that he and Fraser are like that, but then this guy has never met Mr. Uptight.
His attention lifts back to Ashby just in time to see the oral coming to a halt- damn, the guy even suffers from the same fixations as him. And this is why Ray knew he shouldn't have left his gum in his bag. And it's always why Ray really, really needs to find out if they're related or not because Jesus that mouth is amazing, and maybe that's narcissistic but it's not like he ever thought he'd get to see stuff like this without staring in a mirror every second of his life.]
Billy Talent? Yeah, I heard of him. Wow, that uh, that's some guitar. You sure you don't need this...? Thanks, man. [It would make a pretty bad ass addition to his apartment, buuut he probably won't find much time to ever actually attempt playing it. Either way, he keeps hold of it as Lew moves, gripping loosely around the neck and pushing it slightly aside to get away from his legs.]
You got any buddies or chicks livin' here? I guess it'd get pretty lonely if it's just you.
[Not that Ray's judging if there is any lonely living. He lonely lives every day of his life, and his life doesn't even involve mansions and amazing balconies.]
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[ And that was it, the briefest tiniest flash of vulnerability before the stig of the dump mentality took control all over again. Master of his own domain, king of the hill, no time to mope because there was just too much living to do.
In the vein, then, of not leaving it on a shitty pathetic note, he elected to extoll the virtues of his magnificent batchelorific existence. There wasn't a man alive who secretly didn't want to be him, and Ray - he could tell, had known since the text conversation - was no exception. ]
I mean, plenty people stay here. Fuck, I've had all sorts. Rock stars, writers, actors, stage magicians. House has a longstanding tradition of being a home from home for the rich and famous. Houdini, Madonna, Johnny fucking Depp. But who cares about those posers? You are by far my mostest favoritest housegist ever, Little Me.
[ One long winding set of stairs behind them, and at the top he led Ray through the master bedroom with its big gothic leather headboards, led him out toward the private balcony. ]
Used to have a waterbed. Fucking awesome, too, except maybe a week after I got it I had these two girls--not the best ass, but pretty good, stiletto heels. She wants to put her foot on my chest, and I am all for that. All for that. Whoosh, straight through. Bad, awful idea, but also really fucking funny.
[ He swung open the balcony doors, exposing them both to the dusky desert warmth, the sound of crickets chirping in the canyon below. It was a nice night; that helped him out a lot. Romantic. Haha. Was he romancing Ray, though? Sort of. Okay definitely. He was definitely going for it. It wasn't like that was odd for him, deciding so quickly he wanted to fuck someone; usually it took seconds, and while this time there had been a delay of a few minutes, he put that down to shock at having his younger self literally delivered onto his doorstep.
Of course he wanted to fuck him. Such insight his mind had swiftly provided. Which meant that this was without doubt a seduction. He just hadn't worked out all the rules yet. If he was going to be able to get it on without the interference of lovely naked ladies picked up from the Rainbow Room, then he would prefer to do that, prefer to keep Ray all to himself. He was all for sharing, he was the king of sharing, but when it came down to this situation, this commodity, these precious few hours to make his mark.
He was staring at Ray again, licking his lips, licking them again. Wants dinner or is dinner? Oh, that gave him an idea. ]
Hey, you like sushi? I got a place that delivers. [ And just like that he was calling out, raising his phone to his ear. It took maybe twenty seconds to order 'Yes, the usual,' and then he was beaming, leaning back in toward Ray. ] You're gonna love these guys. So come on, tell me a bit about you. Where'd you uh--you live your whole life in Chicago?
no subject
He trailed after Ashby, eyes darting at every little detail to try and catch it all. Times like this make him wish he had a better memory, but he'd try to remember as much of it as he could. This is the sort of tale you tell your grandkids about.
The bedroom is nice. Big. Probably needs to be for all the sex and drugs and rock and roll that likely goes on in this place. Stiletto heels and waterbeds, indeed, Ray's not judging, he's not even on duty. Besides, he's a cop, not a party pooper, the two don't have to be mutually exclusive.
What really makes the room though is that balcony, the view is great and the weather is perfect. Better than anything Chicago usually gets, that's for sure. Ray slips the guitar back over his shoulder and leaves it at the doorway, finding himself a good leaning spot at the surrounding balustrade and reaching for a beer from the staring Ashby. The guy can lick his lips all he wants, Ray doesn't care.]
Yeah, it-- [Never mind, looks like the decision is made for him anyway. Ashby's the expert here, Ray can't know where to get the best of everything, especially not to the standard that this rich guy is probably used to living. Sushi it is. He doesn't mind something a little different from pizzas and burgers.]
Me? Nothin' to tell. I, yeah, Chicago born and bred, and uh. I dunno. All the normal stuff. Family, grew up, loved, lost, got a job, got an apartment. Nothin' like this. I mean, shit, I could fit my whole place into like one room here. Could probably fit my life in alongside it. Wow, you must have some stories though.
no subject
[ Maybe it was, but Ashby could sound more cheerful about it. He didn't make it sound like a dream. But he was much more interested in Ray's story: grew up, loved, lost. That was familiar. And it amused him. There it was: 'Nothing to tell'. Wasn't that what he said too? Nothing to tell. Nothing personal anyway. All front, all work, nothing real. ]
I dunno--Chicago PD? You're rocking out, I mean, that's pretty cool too. You're like an actual real life hero or something.
[ He folded his hands on the balcony and leant across it, throwing a quick grin back Ray's way. Get serious and then disarm. Except...well, Ray was his facetwin, right? He should be honest about it right?
Yeah not likely. How could he be at all impressive and wind him in if he was also some delicate human flower? Vulnerable. Not bloody likely. So he'd play it up, gloss over it. ]
Let's see. Dropped out of college to pursue a "career" in music. Rolled into town in my beat up old Mustang with a lady in tow. Lost the lady. Didn't become a rock god or whatever but I got the dream anyway. See the trick is that the real money's in producing. That and it's less difficult to balls up.
[ He stepped away from his part of the balcony, stepping over toward Ray, past him, and then swung his arm with a little more than simple familiarity across his double's hips. ]
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking: I can't possibly fuck him if it turns out he's my brother or something, but that uh - that uh - we know about that shit. Well I do. Had a kid a few years back claiming to be my nephew, I got the whole thing done. Genealogy whatever. So don't you worry your little head about it, huh, sexy?
[ He ruffled Ray's hair with the hand not holding him around the waist, tipped against him. ]
Stop me if I'm being too forward. I'm just saying what we're both thinking.
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The tale of dropping out of college to pursue a career is similar enough to Ray's own life, but the rock god and producing less so. Maybe that's the way he should have gone judging by the amount of money in it, but he's happy where he is now. He's got a Canadian friend, a wolf pal and a turtle. What more could you want in life? The simple things keep him happy.
When Ashby moves, Ray stays where he is, tensing up just slightly as that arm loops around him like he's expecting something more than an embrace. Proof to himself that he's been working for too long when his first reaction to any contact is to fight back. But this is fine, this is okay. This isn't some scumbag trying to attack him, this is a guy who looks exactly like him trying to make a move. And who can really blame him?]
You some kinda mind reader now?
[He tries to catch the other out of the corner of his eye, still intent to lean on the balcony because seriously, this really could be a relation and yeah, maybe some stuff has crossed his mind but he's not dwelling on the idea until genes are established.]
C'mon, you expect me to believe that? You got tested so everything is fine an' dandy? They just give you whatever results you want, man, so long as you got the money. Even if that was legit, you could still have some Kowalski in you.
[Even if having a face twin from genes alone seems pretty unlikely seeing as they don't even seem to share the same mother.]
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His motives are undeniably unkosher. But then Ray didn't come here for the money, knew he couldn't walk away with it really. He'd come for the experience, maybe, but he'd come for Ashby too; had been drawn to him, moth to the flame. Or maybe Ray was the flame, and Lew was the aged moth with the ragged gothy wings.
He kept his hand right where it was, since Ray wasn't shaking him off. He was already anticipating their meal, knowing he wasn't going to proceed beyond this piss poor passmaking until there was food on the...table. But that didn't mean he coudn't try. He was a pro at this. ]
Yeah? I could still have a little Kowalski in me huh? I like that--that an uh...that a promise?
[ His eyes were dancing, full of joy and life. Excitement. Hunger. Lust. He couldn't help himself. Innuendo was easy. Ray had left him that opening, and he'd be damned if he was going to miss it. He plucked his beer back off the balcony and took another healthy gulp, if only to punctuate his efforts, stayed close. Boundaries? What boundaries? ]
They say there's like...seven people who're totally identical to you in the world. Now I don't know if that's true, but who the fuck cares? What're you gonna do, knock me up with some sorta crossbred identical assbabies?
[ Another dazzling sidewards grin. What the hell ever. He gave a big shrug, as though to a question he was asking himself rather than Ray, and then he leant across, unleashed his tongue and ran it up the edge of Ray's face, hot and wet and releasing his arm very slightly so Ray could spring away if he wanted to. He wasn't going to hold him prisoner.
But this was it: full throttle, giving it 110%, and who could blame him? He was Lew Ashby.
Fuck, but he wasn't sorry. He'd thought about doing that since Ray had stepped out of the car. ]
Dinner. Dinner, I get it. Then I'll show you what else I can do with my mouth, and you can decide how much you really care about all that other stuff. Deal?
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This was tough. This was a case of weighing up what he wanted, what he should be doing and whatever the fuck his older twin was trying to do. Ray can admit he came here out of curiosity, that much is obvious, but he's not sure what he was hoping for or what he was expecting. Was he imagining he'd have this guy trying to get into his pants? Maybe. It's not entirely unusual to consider that sort of thing if you were to meet your double. It's not really anything more than masturbation, just a lot more pleasurable and entertaining.
Trouble was, Ray wasn't used to this. All this being embraced and touched and treated well. People don't show interest in him like this usually, especially not so outwardly. It's kind of nice, to be chased after by someone desirable.
Was it narcissistic to think Ashby was desirable? Probably. But he was pretty damn attractive, better looking than Ray's own youthful looks, he thinks. That face just looks better with a bit of age to it. But would the age and this persona of rich guy getting everything he wants mean that he knows what he's doing in the sack? If it does, Ray's screwed. He's barely been with anyone since Stella and he'd be the first to admit he might be a little rusty. Or a lot rusty.
Maybe just... maybe keep this stuff to a minimum so he doesn't embarrass himself and--
That was a lick. Not exactly keeping 'this stuff' to a minimum. Ray's head jerks away out of pure instinct but his body doesn't move. Not exactly intent to get away from it, but he's furrowing his brows into a distant frown, more for show than any actual annoyance.]
Dinner. Right. Keep this up and I'll show you what I can do with this bottle.
[Idle threats, emphasised as he lifts the mostly full beer bottle in Lew's direction. Physical violence or sexual orientated, who knows? It's probably left open ended on purpose.
He hasn't socked this guy in the fact yet. That's somewhat of a surprise to himself. Maybe instinct are telling him something, maybe not. Might just be that he likes this mansion too much to be upsetting the owner just yet, plus he'd really like to get back to Chicago without spending a fortune on air fares.]
no subject
And also not the point.
Sure, he was interested because Ray was hot, but he was more interested because Ray was him, and had been from the very start. So he puts his tongue against his bottom teeth and curls it, grins with just his top line of pearly whites, and clocks his thumb against the side of his nose. That's all the answer he really needs to give. ]
That [ He declared. ] Is really fucking hot.
[ He dropped his arm away, though he remained just as close as he'd been allowed to get in, his eyes going between Ray's mouth to his own drink and then out to the canyon again. A white van was climbing the driveway, and as it reached the bottom of the steps three people climbed out, all wearing chefs whites, impossible to pick out who was what from above. Lew watched them hawkishly for a moment, then turned his attention back to Ray's mouth, which was infinitely more distracting and far more exciting to look at. ]
You know I always wondered what it'd be like to sleep with a cop? [ His eyes went back to the distance as he raised the topic. ] I mean like--I've slept with cops, lady cops, but not detectives. Way too rich for me. No I uh...mean that's sort of kinky, right? "Tell me where you hid the blow, cocksucker." That could be hot. Not that I'm saying--I mean. I'd never. With you. Diminish and belittle you like that. You're special, I feel like I've known you my whole life.
[ And maybe in some ways it was true, but there was nothing remotely resembling truth to it either; one text conversation and a half hour hanging out with each other did not soulmates make.
He reached up, though, hand at the side of Ray's neck like he couldn't help himself from touching, rubbing little circles into the hair behind his ear. ]
They got a dinner bell they ring when it's all ready. Man, you are going to love this. They don't have anything like this in Chicago, I mean, this is LA, if you want them to make you a twelve foot wedding cake shaped like a cock they'll do it.
no subject
He keeps Lew in his peripherals, suspicious of more attempts, but his attention locks onto the van, watching the three figures emerge from the vehicle. Actual chef whites. What happened to one delivery boy in a banged up motor? They sure do turn it up a notch for the rich and famous.
They don't keep his attention for long, though, not when he's got his own face to look at, absently chewing at his bottom lip as he looks at his face twin looking at him. There's going to be a whole lot more staring for the next day or two, he imagines. It's a hard sight to get over, although while Ashby might be fixated with the lips, Ray's more intent to make direct eye contact.]
If you thought beddin' a cop was all handcuffs and roleplay then... I dunno, maybe you're not so wrong. But I'm all outta handcuffs and I've never been so good at the roleplay stuff. I'm a simple pleasures kind guy. Just give me some t&a and I'll be happy.
[Except Ashby's kind of lacking in the t part of that, and Ray's still not quite sure how he feels about that.
With the wet trail so kindly left on his face cooling in the evening air, Stan lifts an arm to rub at it with the back of his hand. And then he's turning, using that hand to lean back on the balcony railing while inadvertently twisting away from Ashby's hand in the turn, leaning and casual, beer in hand.]
You ever fight? Fisticuffs or guns or anythin'? Like real fight for your life, balls deep in shit kinda fightin'? That's where it's at. You live like that and suddenly you're just happy to be alive no matter how simple yer life sex life is. I guess cops are easily pleased so long as you ain't shootin' or stabbin' us.
no subject
But Ray is interested, there's no doubt about it. Lew had seen him look right at his mouth when he'd been tonguing his beer bottle before, and they kept catching and maintaining eye contact. Looking right back into his own eyes was like staring into a mirror, except this mirror wasn't doing exactly what Lew was doing; it was unpredictable, could reach out and grope him or punch him or kiss him and he wouldn't know until it happened. Fucking thrilling. ]
Oh yeah? And you like that? You wanna live like that? Simple? I mean it's not like I don't respect that whole survival thing - shit, I've been there, I can scrap with the best of them - but isn't that a bit...I mean. Boring? Do a bit of thrusting, roll over and go to sleep?
[ He scratched his chin with his free hand, then turned and leant back on the railing himself, puzzled and scowling. ]
You really like that shit? I mean I am really fucking sad for you, Little Me. All you gotta do is flash that badge and that pretty grin of yours and you could take home any piece of ass you like, you know that? "Chicago PD, I'm sorry ma'am but there's been an emergency, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to eat you out."
[ Another sidewards flash of a grin, this one a little subdued, and then something more thoughtful. ]
Hey, but we could do that... I mean the hitting thing. After dinner, though, cause I'm starving, but if you wanna wrestle we can wrestle. [ He popped away from the wall, and two steps back toward the open door the gong went. He smirked back over his shoulder at Ray. ] Winner gets the other guy's ass. C'mon.
[ Dinner was laid out downstairs. Or well. It was literally laid out. A table had been unpacked, and across it lay a very naked, sun bronzed woman with tumbling black hair. Dinner was on her; long trails of rice interspersed with morsels of sushi, and not a single fish or shellfish derivative to be seen. State of the art vegetable sushi, thinly sliced threads of meat sashimi of venison, beef and duck, veiled nipples and made artful swirls across her belly. There were tiny little edible flowers and flashes of dark green leaves laid out under some of the display, but they were mostly decoration rather than intended to hide anything. ]
Best thing about the place isn't even the presentation. [ Stepping back so he was hovering over Ray's shoulder, Lew murmured over it into his ear. ] See, any other sushi place in the city would kill me, but this guy's son has allergies too, so uh--so we're good. I'm good.
[ He licked his lips. ] It's called uh--nyotaimori. [ And hey, Ray had wanted T&A. There was no denying that he was getting it. ] No chopsticks, though, that's my special rule. Go on, you don't gotta wait on ceremony.
no subject
He and Stella had tried some things, sure. Some things. But it'd never really strayed too far from the norm, not enough for Ray to feel like he's got any sort of bragging rights that relate to 'I've seen some shit'. Maybe that's part of the reason for the divorce, another layer to their arguments and frustrations and everything else. Since her he'd only had a couple of embarrassing attempts with other women and first nights aren't exactly the time to really bring up the 'so I was thinking of trying this out...'. Well, not unless you're some sort of rock god with masses of money and the ability to risk shit like that.
So ok, maybe simple isn't so great, but simple is comfortable and familiar and if Ray can't even get lucky on simple then what's the point in trying the next step up? Walk before you can run, right? Unless that's where he's been going wrong. Might be that people just don't want simple guys any more. What if, in the twenty-odd years he'd been married to Stella, the world had evolved and he hadn't moved along with the times? Shit.]
Guess that's why I'm divorced and single.
[He mutters with a hint of amused self-deprecation to go along with it. This trip might be good for more than just seeing his clone after all, especially if he can keep up these self-revelations. Even if they do result in him crawling back to Stella and begging that he can change. Not going to help, Kowalski. And who was he kidding, he could never change, he could just be a little more self-aware and open to new things.
Whatever, this isn't some enlightenment trip to India, this is just him in a huge mansion in LA with a guy who likes identical to himself in virtually every way, give or take a decade. If he could be as honest with himself as this guy seems to be, then maybe shit would work out better.
He's hungry. That's probably why his mind is spouting tired and pointless exposition that's of no use to him. So when Ashby mentions dinner, Ray's all for following, deciding to settle on the wrestling idea with a vague;] Maybe.
[Once they get downstairs, Ray stops dead, staring at the spread before him with an uncertain sort of disbelief, all blank faced and slow blinking. That's not something you see every day. At least not in Chicago. That's not even something he's ever heard of before, let alone seen. Food on a naked chick? Seems an odd concept. But hadn't Ray just been thinking about how much he's up for trying new stuff since the Mountie showed up in his life. This was definitely new stuff to try.]
Uh. Is she uh. Is she okay with this? Like uh, is this legit? [Head turned just slightly to other at his shoulder, voice lowered like he's afraid he might be overheard by the other body in the room. God, he hopes this isn't some sort of weird prostitution thing. How clueless he was to the International ways of the world.
But damn, she was beautiful, even if Ray was still uncertain as to whether he should be staring or not, like he's suddenly shy by the sight of naked bodies.]
no subject
Oh that was cool. Ray fell dead still, staring, and that was exactly the kind of reaction he'd been hoping to get out of him. Little bit of shellshock when on holiday was good for the soul. This was like the Orient to Ray; exotic and so far outside his usual lifestyle that they may as well be on another planet.
And that was what Ashby liked best. Blow them away. Then he could do anything he wanted and masquerade it as perfectly normal.
He smirked. Ray wasn't looking at him any more, but then Ashby didn't blame him. She was really quite pretty, and from what he could tell Ray was dry--had just come out of a marriage where the fun had gone out of it, probably hadn't had a whole lot of glory since. And there she was, everything that LA could get you laid out and decorated and edible. Poor bastard, he'd been dropped in at the deep end.
So Ashby stepped closer, pressing his chest against Ray's back, leaning in so that his mouth brushed the shell of his ear. ]
It's totally legit, completely above board. It takes a lot of skill to stay put like that; she's a professional.
[ He bit Ray's earlobe firmly, then nudged him forward step by step, putting all of his force into his chest to urge him forward. ]
Now if you wanted to sleep with her that would be extra, and if I'm honest with you I'm not really feeling the charitable spirit tonight. The hell am I paying someone else to get what I'm after.
[ He pinched Ray's butt, then grabbed his hand and led the way, led him the rest of the way across the room. He pointed at the girl. ]
Go on. She's pretty, right? You like her. I definitely like her. It's pretty hot, and we're all having a lot of nice, safe, sexy fun. That's all this is.
Here, here. You kneel right down. [ He was close again; he was crooked in against the corner of Ray's throat, smirking still, a little flushed, definitely aroused. It was audible in his voice. ]
no subject
He really did have a lot more to learn about life. Briefly he does wonder if Fraser would have ever heard of this, which might be a mildly inappropriate thing to be considering as Ashby's pressing in closer but it's a valid train of though that he doesn't entirely discount.]
Yeah, no. No payin' for any kinda sleepin' with. C'mon, let the girl do her job without all the sleaze stuff.
[Because apparently Ray is suddenly a strong advocate of women's rights or something. Or he just doesn't want any slight suggestion of paying for sex anywhere near him. Cops and prostitution shouldn't mix.
He still has to deal with Ashby though, the guy trying to woo him with all of this and the far too frequent touching. Ray didn't mind a bit of friendly contact, he's all for that, especially by his own hands, but this was pushing it. Especially with the bite that has him hissing out a quick exhale and cocking his head away the second he's given the chance, and that pinch that has him flashing a warning glance towards the other but unable to do much else before he's grabbed and led.
Once they're at the table, Ray's using the closeness of Lew curling in against him to his advantage, his elbow suddenly jerking towards the edge of Ashby's ribs, more as a caution than any real attempt to cause serious pain. Just a little display of 'keep your distance and let me eat'.]
Other side of the table, pal. I can sit myself down just fine.
[And he's going to wait for that dick to move before he kneels himself down, because there's no way he wants to be on his knees beside this guy. Not yet anyway. Ahem.]
no subject
Lew Ashby was the definitive version of Lew Ashby. He lived life like he only had one shot at it, and his answer to everything was yes.
Well, to everything that wouldn't leave him penniless on the streets, which when people wanted your money or your babies was a constant risk.
Ray finally gave him a little bit of a fight back, and Lew knew he'd pushed him far enough that he was starting to find his legs again, remember who he was. He knew he'd won him over on the idea of sex already, though, but this way he'd be more confident maybe, more willing to push as be pushed. Ashby knew he had it in him. He hoped he did, anyway, it'd be hot. ]
Oh yeah?
[ And he knew it was about the kneeling, because he'd said that more or less setting him up for it, so he just grinned another dazzling grin and slipped out of there, giving Ray back his space and kneeling down on the tatami that had been rolled out on the other side of the table. It was the whole experience: that was sort of the point.
He folded his hands in front of himself and bowed reverently to his partner, and then he spared a glance for his table. ]
You alright there, sweetness? Yes. Hell yes.
[ And now he could watch Ray, watch that face with his own captivated glacier blue eyes, ravishing him hungrily without ever so much as touching him again. No, instead he leaned in, unfurling his tongue along the curve of her hip, then wrapping his mouth around one of the pieces of sushi, leading by example. He didn't take his eyes off Ray as he did it, nor as he chewed, and he didn't raise his head much more than a few inches either.
Oh, this was sexual alright, but it had nothing to do with the naked lady. To Lew this was absolutely nothing less than full on foreplay. ]
Tell me the most...the most dangerous thing you've ever done. The most danger you've ever been put in.
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The thing was, he wasn't even opposed to it. It might be a little more forward than he was used to, granted, but the idea of it all, of getting to explore someone who was basically a clone of him in virtually every way. They could see just how alike they were. Anyone would be lying if they said they hadn't thought of doing themselves at least once in their life. It's just a thing that if you ever met your double you'd either kill them or fuck them, right? And fucking them was always the best option because it's the one time in your life you know you won't get judged. There's no fear there of what the other person might like or dislike about your body, not when they have exactly the same parts.
Maybe Ray should have looked closer at the dick pic when he had the chance, but that had been something he'd skipped past quickly when flicking through boob photos. Whatever, he'd get a view of it later if he agreed to all this weirdness.
When Ashby moves away, Ray lowers himself to his knees, finally able to at least look at the spread before him without feeling guilty about staring. Not that he's opposed to staring to hot, naked women anyway. Especially not ones as good looking and literally delicious as this. He does spare a look towards her face and offer up a small smile as if trying to seek some sort of approval, but then Lew's lean in and his attention flickers back to his mirror image.
So that's what he'd meant by no chopsticks. And here Ray thought it'd be finger food. That's certainly one way to eat a meal.
But that eye contact wasn't anything to do with the naked body in front of them, the tongue lashing out against bare skin wasn't really about the woman. This was between him and Ashby. Every bit of that eye contact suggested that, and Ray wasn't going to shy away from it, even though his eyebrows were lifting and his lips parting just slightly in curiosity.]
Uh. Dangerous? I uh. Huh? [How does speaking work again? Something to do with moving your lips and your tongue and throat and-- nope, still a distracting thought process.]
It's uh. I dunno. Kinda hard to put it all on a scale. I mean I guess bein' shot at by known psychopaths is kinda up there. But then there's almost drownin' in a sinkin' ship like you're in some sorta Titanic movie. Or, or. Drivin' an explodin' car, or uh. Like, it's all just part of the job. Protect and serve and get shot at a lot, that's the motto. It's what I'm paid for. Looks like I'm in the wrong business though, huh?
no subject
He was still grinning when Ray started explaining about psychopaths and sinking ships and exploding cars, and that was so fucking awesome he closed his mouth and just looked impressed, eyes dancing across the other man's face as he described it as just a part of the job. Boring old nine-to-five, what a way to earn a living.
It sounded so cool. ]
That's the kind of lifestyle they're always trying to shoot down in the valley, though, isn't it? Getting shot at all the time, driving exploding cars, fucking your doppelganger. You should sell that shit.
[ Says the strange almost-rock star who knows what a doppelganger is; who is clearly much more shrewd than he at first appears. It's a good act, it's just that occasionally a sparkle of intelligence shows through. The quick wittedness and wild imagination really help, but mostly it helps if people underestimate him. It was - for one thing - a fucking fantastic way to make money if other people thought they were the ones getting the leg over.
But he's there: bright like a hundred karat diamond under a rough layer of shitty colored rock. He's always the one on top, even when he's on the bottom. It's just the way he rolls.
Lew put his hand across the table, gripping it where the wood was under her right elbow and leaning across the woman's chest, dipping low and raking a line of rice from her ribcage before lavishly stealing a morsel of smoked venison from her left breast. This he had to do without looking at Ray, but so confident was he of being watched that he lingered there for a moment with his tongue flashing against her bare skin, flush against her plush, springy bosom. Joyful, mischievous, he sat back, jerking his head up toward Ray in challenge. ]
You've barely touched your dinner.
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At least Ray won't be slapping Lew for it. Not unless he liked that sort of thing. Some people are into that, so Ray hears. Whatever.]
Nah, they wouldn't wanna know. Especially not when there's a Canadian involved. They want hard guys and hot chicks. [Definitely not him, a Mountie and a half-wolf. Ray wouldn't want the attention anyway. LA is the last place he wants to tell his secrets to.
He still watches, fascinated by it all with an almost child-like curiosity, head ducking just enough to get a better view of Lew's movements against the woman beneath. She really was a pro. If Ray had a tongue on him like that, he'd be writhing and squirming all over the place, and yet here she was, unmoving and still beautiful, like a stylish bit of art laid out before them. Shit, it was weird.]
I uh. Was just seein' how it was done. Kinda used to using my hands.
[Best excuse ever, right? And actually the truth for the most part, because this is like learning how to eat with chopsticks or something. It's a whole new method and one he's still just a little uncomfortable with. She's a good looking lady, only there because she's paid to be. Who would want a guy like Ray clumsily trying to eat food off them without a good chunk of money for their time? A guy like Ashby is fine. He's cool. He knows what he's doing and he looks slick doing it. And yet Ashby looked like Ray... This hurt his head too much.
Fuck it, he can do this. No problem. Just start easy, right? He opted for something a little tamer than Ashby's choices, settling for a beef sashimi balanced perfectly against the flat of her stomach. He hesitates only briefly, huffs out a soft breath and then leans down, curling his tongue around the sushi as his mouth wraps around it, mostly succeeding in avoiding skin. As he starts to sit up again, he chews thoughtfully, nodding his approval. Better and fresher than any he's had. Probably costs a damn fortune.]
That's... that's actually pretty good.
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[ Of course the real gift in all this was Ray wanting to watch him so bad that he ducked his head, but Ashby hadn't seen that. He could only read the change in his double's expression; the way his lips parted and his eyes sharpened with curiosity and desire. The thing about hanging out with yourself, it turned out, was that reading your own expressions was sort of easy--after all you made them all the time, you knew what they meant.
Ashby was not lacking in reflective surfaces. ]
It is, isn't it? Here, come on. We're still playing the tame version of this. Dinner parties around here are only ever good if someone gets laid, injured or arrested.
[ Ashby sat back just slightly, pulling off his jacket and stripping out of his Sabbath shirt. Only then did he draw out how the wild version of sushilady went, pretending to ignore the fact that he was flashing the ultimate question at Ray: tattoo? So this was the crazy version. Where two beers was supposed to loosen Ray up enough to get a healthy buzz going. ]
You wanna know how we do this, don't you? Okay, here's how we do this. First, I tell you what you've got to eat, I tell you from where. You play along, and it's your turn. You pussy out, I get to eat a sushi off that part of you. You lose you pretty much starve, but I get to suck sushi off every part of you, so I don't know--look on the bright side, huh?
[ He definitely emphasized the word 'suck'. ]
So for instance I'd say 'Hey Ray, dare you to eat that tomato rose out of her navel.' And you'd get right on that shit no questions asked.
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But now they were getting into it. The real part of all the show and bravado that involved something more than just Ray guiltily eating like this. He assumed Ashby was up to something more, one surprise after the other. They might have only known each other for an hour or two but Ray likes to think he can get a pretty good read on people, especially face twins.
The shirt comes off and Ray's left staring, constantly intrigued by what he'd see from this guy. It's the same. All the same. So maybe Ashby's learnt how to keep a little more weight on him somewhere in the age gap, and maybe he's managed to catch just a little more sun in Cali, but it's still an almost identical match, all things considered. Same shaping, same muscle structure, same-- is that a tattoo? Ray's tattoo? That tattoo had relevance and meaning in Ray's life, of days spent on the car with his dad, of engine parts and spark plugs and, and... it makes no sense.
He's so fixated that for a few drawn out seconds he's totally ignoring Lew, zoning in just in time to catch the rules of the game, unfair as they are. Ray's hungry, he doesn't want to miss out, but he's also not so sure he can comfortably eat sushi from a few more private areas when he hasn't even spoken to the girl. But fuck it, this was LA. He was in some rich, face twin's mansion and when was he ever going to get a chance like this again?
With a huff of breath and an eye roll, he follows suit with the stripping thing to avoid being the most over dressed person in the room. The t-shirt is easily tugged over his head, barely making a dent on the always ruffled hair, and there, there's the tattoo that he's not even going to mention beyond flicking his gaze to Ashby's.]
Yeah, yeah. You want me to eat a tomato? I'll eat a tomato.
[Example or not, Ray's going to get straight into this, eyes on Ashby as he bows forward and, without much flair, manages to wrap his mouth around it. He sits up almost immediately, grinning around the tomato rose between his teeth like it's some great achievement and then lifts a hand to shove it fully into his mouth. He's still chewing as he chooses Lew's turn.]
Hows about the nice arrangement of meats riiiiight... [And of course he points to the beautifully displayed slices splayed out across a nipple.] ... there.
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He licked his lips, letting the appraisal go unspoken, because Ray was clearly up for playing this game the right way, leaning across and plucking the tomato from her navel, keeping his eyes on Lew the whole time. It hadn't taken him long to get used to the idea, to accomplish a certain amount of cocky sensuality right out of the starting gate. Or maybe he's projecting that, but there's still something about having the other man's eyes on him throughout that he has to perceive as pure sex even if it isn't. ]
Yeah. Yeah that's hot.
[ He couldn't be more turned on. This--this game, this whole situation, was proceeding just fine so far as he was concerned. It made him ache the way he hadn't in years, and while usually it was true that he had some staying power, that he actually enjoyed talking for hours on occasion, this situation was different. He wanted. He wanted, and it was driving him crazy. He shifted a little uncomfortably in place, following Ray's gaze, his gesture. Nipple, huh. Tempting. Any other day he'd have been all for it, sucking and nibbling and lapping until every morsel was gone and the poor girl was trembling from the effort to keep still, but she wasn't what captivated him. That, without doubt, was the man opposite. ]
I do like me some breast meat. [ Which is terrible, but down he goes, drawing the moment out, playing to his strengths, almost as though he means to get right to it. His tongue reaches out, almost touching, almost as though he means to do it, but then he's rocking back on his heels, and there's amusement and challenge dancing in his eyes when he fixes them back on Ray. ]
I just can't do it. Expose the lady like that so soon into the game, leave her with one breast hanging out like that. It's just not gentlemanly. [ Because now he cares about what's gentlemanly? ] I think maybe I'm going to have to forfeit my turn.
[ He crooked his finger at Ray, plucking a piece of sashimi off her hip and dangling it in the air for a moment as though to make his point, and then he was leaning back on one elbow, draping the meat across his own chest, his own nipple. ]
Come on, Ray. Rules are rules.
[ Like he could pass up the opportunity to get Ray's mouth on his nipple even for a second. ]
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He's leaning again, enough to try and get an angle on Lew and that too perfectly shaped breast, a slow inhale of anticipation as that lewd tongue comes curling out and then-- shit. Was he pussying out? No. Definitely not. This guy had done this a million times before, and probably with people far more willing to lick and touch the girl than Ray had been.
This was something else. It was...]
Oh.
[Oh. Of course. If this wasn't about the girl, then Lew was using his own rules to get her out of the picture for this round. It's an obvious move that Ray should have seen coming, especially with that daring dancing in Ashby's eyes. A fine move to play too, like a totally legal but nevertheless dirty chess move. Lew knew how to play these pieces far too well.]
Y'know if I knew you were such a pussy, I woulda picked somethin' simpler.
[It's like a verbal eye roll, quietly amused as he heaves himself to his feet to head around the foot of the low table and then, only a few steps later, dropping himself heavily to his knees at Lew's side. It's obvious Ashby is up for this, and he's not even being paid for it. This is all just part of some weird foreplay game that the two of them are playing out, all because Ray had said he needed to be wined and dined first.
His eyes met Lew's again, gnawing on his own lip in the briefest moment of thought. He could do this.
Just be cool, cool as a cucumber. Remember back to the days when you actually got laid.
He still lowers himself forward slowly, not exactly hesitant but almost as if he's giving those extra few seconds to think, but then he shuts his mind off because thinking really doesn't help at all in this. Instead Ray opts for instincts, letting his body guide his mind.
Without any further thought put into it, his tongue extends, flicking a wet patch against Ashby's sternum, then dragging under the curve of his pectoral and back up, a damp U that ends it's path at the covered nipple. His tongue curls around the delicate slice of meat, lapping it into his mouth and then, just before withdrawing, offering one final, long lick against the nipple with the flat of his tongue. Just clearing up.
As he sits back, his gaze immediately locked back onto the other's, still chewing at the achieved food as he smiles around it, brows creeping up just enough as though he's looking for some sort of approval. That's how they play this game, right? He did good, right?]
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It was all Lew could do to lick his lips, to keep them moist and wet as the temperature raised a degree per step, and Ray came kneeling down on his side of the table like some kind of positively godlike younger version of himself, all eager and willing. This was going to work. Ray was so up for it, and even if half of that was bravado, and the inability to back down from a challenge - both things Lew had no problem with being himself - it didn't really matter. It'd get him there in the end and that was all that counted.
If he'd been transfixed by that mouth before, it was nothing to the things it was doing to him now. He was already hard as a rock and Ray hadn't even touched him - just that little lip nibble had been more than enough - and now he could only shift his hips very slightly so as to not deliberately make contact elsewhere, letting Ray lean over him, watching with breathless fascination as that mouth came closer.
His mouth, his eyelashes, his head of hair; the long languid stretch of muscled back exposed to him, the tattoo on Ray's shoulder as he supported his own weight, the slick hot heat of his tongue as it came down half a mile away from his nipple and licked a gorgeous path across to it.
Lew groaned, fingers and toes curling, inhaled a quick gasp and panted out something that sounded "A-ha--aaah" as Ray's tongue returned for a second go, sweeping across his nipple before he retreated, leaving it hard and wet and abandoned. That had been way more than he'd expected considering Ray's shyness with their dinner platter, but he couldn't find anything to complain about. Not if that was the kind of mouth action he could look forward to. It was hot. It was fantastic. It was everything that made the game worth playing.
Ray even looked up at him for approval with those fucking blue eyes, so full of sex, so much like his own. He raked his teeth against his own lower lip, searching for words, then sat forward. Lew wasn't going to spoil it by telling Ray how good he was, how great that had been: he'd show him instead. ]
Okay, okay. So uh-mm. You gotta take that sushi there off her Adam's apple.
[ He did know all the ways to cheat playing this game. Here was another one. And like hell was he going to let up so easily. There was less dancing now, more smouldering, a liquid sort of desire that hung in his eyes and thickened the air between them. It helped that they were now both on the same side of the table, decidedly not touching, even if Ray was well aware that Lew wanted to. Just a matter of time. ]
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It felt like someone had turned up the heat in the room in a matter of seconds, and Ray can't even help the slight heave to his chest or the sweat prickling against his bare skin. It really didn't help that they were now sat next to each without a table between them.
He wasn't so hungry any more. Not when he had all these other distractions to deal with. He really should have had a burger or something before coming, but he hadn't realised he'd be having to eat his meal off his host.]
Her Adam's apple, huh?
[Finally he switched his attention back to the girl, as if checking if there was any way around this obvious bend in the rules. But no, that's dumb, he's not thinking straight.]
I guess we both already know I can't do that, dickbag.
[Cheating or not, Ray will play along. He reaches for a nigiri balanced at her stomach, plucking it off carefully and, with a huff of effort, lowered himself onto an elbow just as Ashby had. There's one last chance for him to meet eyes with Lew's own stormy gaze, brows lifting in a silent come on, then and then he's hanging his head back and doing his best to balance the food right on the arch of his throat before lowering his hand.
Fuck, this was a little more vulnerable than he'd like to be, but he grits his teeth and waits, eyes locked on the extravagantly high ceiling. He's fine. He trusts this guy, he thinks, but there's still that distant paranoia that bubbles and churns in his chest.]
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Really? I have no idea what you mean.
[ But Ray was still playing along, hadn't flipped the nigiri in his face at the suggestion. Maybe Ray didn't play obvious so much, but Ashby could see that he was breathing a little harder, and that was deeply satisfying. All of this was starting to get through to him, starting to turn him on.
Oh, it was good. It was fucking fantastic. Ray was hot, and he was all Ashby's, and as soon as this dinner was over he was going to have him. Every inch. Probably sooner rather than later.
The moment Ray leant back, putting the morsel of food on his throat, Lew became very aware of the submission he'd asked for--the trust that was placed in him in turn. He owed Ray after this, there was no doubt. He'd flown all the way out here and let this stranger more or less have his way with him. He needed to be given something back for that.
Lew leaned in, being very careful not to unsettle that piece of sushi until he was ready, dipping his tongue into the bead of sweat that had caught in the hollow above Ray's collarbone, then licking his way upward, just the tip of his tongue rolling upward, against the grain of Ray's stubble.
He opened his mouth wide - as wide as he could around the sushi - scraped his teeth down, rolled his tongue up, and took the morsel back. He swallowed without chewing, then left little snapping bites working up Ray's throat. He peeled away slowly, but didn't tug himself out of Ray's lap, where he'd half climbed during the process of sucking his neck. ]
You taste good. Anyone ever tell you that?
[ But even if he was leant in over him, Lew was still keeping his hands entirely to himself. Actually he was more or less challenging Ray to push him away. ]
Your turn, Kowalski.
[ Not that Ashby was remotely interested in the food or the game by now. ]
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