[ God, there was just something about Fraser losing his temper that really had to be seen to be believed. He might not be good at showing emotions himself, but he was excellent at manipulating them, manipulating people--man he was practically a professional. If he hadn't become a Mountie he'd have been a terrifying attorney. But that, of course, would have required a formal education, of which Fraser had none.
He turned the guilt trip on both of them, although Vecchio prided himself that it didn't work on him, and never really had. He'd been comfortable at the 2-7, he'd worked there most of his life, come up the ranks there so that he could square off against the lowlife scum that had owned his area of the city ever since he was a kid. He'd been established when Fraser had been assigned to him was the point, whereas when Kowalski had shown up he'd been coming into Fraser's court, bonding by Fraser's rules. They had a closer relationship, he thought, because of it, but it also made Kowalski a whole lot easier for Fraser to mess with.
He watched as Fraser practically knocked him over with a feather, and he wasn't the slightest bit surprised when the Mountie, sensing weakness, went in for Kowalski's exposed throat. There was that killer instinct at play; beautiful and deadly.
Kowalski, of course, was busy trying to send him urgent vibes, although by this point he was confused as hell as to which vibes meant what. Half of it was begging him to talk, he thought, and half of it was swearing that if he said a word then Stanley Kowalski was going to eat his tongue. But he was for a moment too distracted by how hot Fraser's mean streak was to decide either way.
And then Fraser looked at him and...fuck. It was like being shot in the balls with adrenaline. Fraser caught it too, Ray saw that in the way his storm blue eyes widened in surprise before he hastily looked away again. He stared for a few seconds more at the back of Fraser's neck, then...then he took a step forward.
And another.
And another. Until he was leaning against the corner of the desk just behind Fraser, looking straight into Ray Kowalski's eyes, and he made a sharp gesture toward Fraser, jerking his head to the left, rolling his eyes, then meeting Kowalski's gaze again. Him. Yes, him. Watch him. Goad him. Do whatever the fuck you want, but don't let him play you. We play him.
His instincts had been wrong before. Way, way too fucking often. Being off base on this one could ruin everything. They had to play Fraser themselves. He spoke softly. ]
I'm happy. You're happy, aren't you, Ray? Maybe it got a little out of hand, but we're both men. We can handle a bit of...roughhousing.
[ He could have sworn Fraser shuddered. Was he biting his lip? He couldn't see from this angle. ]
no subject
He turned the guilt trip on both of them, although Vecchio prided himself that it didn't work on him, and never really had. He'd been comfortable at the 2-7, he'd worked there most of his life, come up the ranks there so that he could square off against the lowlife scum that had owned his area of the city ever since he was a kid. He'd been established when Fraser had been assigned to him was the point, whereas when Kowalski had shown up he'd been coming into Fraser's court, bonding by Fraser's rules. They had a closer relationship, he thought, because of it, but it also made Kowalski a whole lot easier for Fraser to mess with.
He watched as Fraser practically knocked him over with a feather, and he wasn't the slightest bit surprised when the Mountie, sensing weakness, went in for Kowalski's exposed throat. There was that killer instinct at play; beautiful and deadly.
Kowalski, of course, was busy trying to send him urgent vibes, although by this point he was confused as hell as to which vibes meant what. Half of it was begging him to talk, he thought, and half of it was swearing that if he said a word then Stanley Kowalski was going to eat his tongue. But he was for a moment too distracted by how hot Fraser's mean streak was to decide either way.
And then Fraser looked at him and...fuck. It was like being shot in the balls with adrenaline. Fraser caught it too, Ray saw that in the way his storm blue eyes widened in surprise before he hastily looked away again. He stared for a few seconds more at the back of Fraser's neck, then...then he took a step forward.
And another.
And another. Until he was leaning against the corner of the desk just behind Fraser, looking straight into Ray Kowalski's eyes, and he made a sharp gesture toward Fraser, jerking his head to the left, rolling his eyes, then meeting Kowalski's gaze again. Him. Yes, him. Watch him. Goad him. Do whatever the fuck you want, but don't let him play you. We play him.
His instincts had been wrong before. Way, way too fucking often. Being off base on this one could ruin everything. They had to play Fraser themselves. He spoke softly. ]
I'm happy. You're happy, aren't you, Ray? Maybe it got a little out of hand, but we're both men. We can handle a bit of...roughhousing.
[ He could have sworn Fraser shuddered. Was he biting his lip? He couldn't see from this angle. ]