[ A single moment had never been as depraved and as gorgeous as this at the exact same time. The muscles of Fraser's jaw and throat tensed and worked under his mouth as he abandoned himself unto the kiss, and when he moaned against Kowalski's mouth, all Vecchio could think was 'Enjoy that, it's going to be the first of many'. Stanley groaned back, and Vecchio couldn't blame him, biting down on his own noises, because he could feel Fraser rocking minutely forward almost instinctively between them, and that just had to be driving Kowalski mad.
They were going to do this. They were going to do this, and they had to do it here, because there was just no way that they could adjourn this, move it out of the room, take it out of the police station. Maybe Ray ought to have thought about that before it started, but it had been so spur of the moment following up on Fraser's anxious little lip-lick, that he hadn't had time to think about where it would inevitably lead. All the way. It had to go all the way. He couldn't fathom not, when it seemed like years were culminating in this single burst of activity. They'd be quiet, and yes, the room would smell of bodily fluids and sweat by the time they were done, but when had it ever not?
As Stanley nudged in toward him, Ray let their tongues touch, sliding hot against each other on Fraser's skin - the Mountie shuddered - and then Stanley was kissing him, a painfully eager kiss that screamed of wanting. Okay--okay, he got the message. Right hand tightening in the scrub of hair at the back of Kowalski's neck, he pulsed upward into the kiss with passionate hunger, broke open the wound on Ray's lips that had only just been healing and lashed his tongue into the other man's mouth, kissing like it was a battle. His fingernails dug deeper into scalp, and his other hand--his other hand slid around Fraser and imposed itself between him and Stanley, squeezing Fraser roughly through his breeches.
But all of that was a front for his real intention. His hips slammed forward, and he stepped into the space he made, sending the three of them stumbling toward the wall until they collided almost painfully with the plaster. Only his hand on Ray's neck kept the impact from his head, but there'd be bruises on his knuckles to show for it sure enough. The hand he'd put on Fraser tugged free, but he used it to work open the buttons of his tunic absently, still absorbed in the kiss, fighting and biting and battling Stanley's mouth as though he'd made kissing a national sport. He wanted to kiss him breathless, kiss him until his head span with dizziness, kiss him until-- ]
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They were going to do this. They were going to do this, and they had to do it here, because there was just no way that they could adjourn this, move it out of the room, take it out of the police station. Maybe Ray ought to have thought about that before it started, but it had been so spur of the moment following up on Fraser's anxious little lip-lick, that he hadn't had time to think about where it would inevitably lead. All the way. It had to go all the way. He couldn't fathom not, when it seemed like years were culminating in this single burst of activity. They'd be quiet, and yes, the room would smell of bodily fluids and sweat by the time they were done, but when had it ever not?
As Stanley nudged in toward him, Ray let their tongues touch, sliding hot against each other on Fraser's skin - the Mountie shuddered - and then Stanley was kissing him, a painfully eager kiss that screamed of wanting. Okay--okay, he got the message. Right hand tightening in the scrub of hair at the back of Kowalski's neck, he pulsed upward into the kiss with passionate hunger, broke open the wound on Ray's lips that had only just been healing and lashed his tongue into the other man's mouth, kissing like it was a battle. His fingernails dug deeper into scalp, and his other hand--his other hand slid around Fraser and imposed itself between him and Stanley, squeezing Fraser roughly through his breeches.
But all of that was a front for his real intention. His hips slammed forward, and he stepped into the space he made, sending the three of them stumbling toward the wall until they collided almost painfully with the plaster. Only his hand on Ray's neck kept the impact from his head, but there'd be bruises on his knuckles to show for it sure enough. The hand he'd put on Fraser tugged free, but he used it to work open the buttons of his tunic absently, still absorbed in the kiss, fighting and biting and battling Stanley's mouth as though he'd made kissing a national sport. He wanted to kiss him breathless, kiss him until his head span with dizziness, kiss him until-- ]