[Vecchio is unrelenting. He shouldn't have expected anything else after last time. Within seconds, Stan's lips and tongue are given a thorough reminder of just what he'd been through only a few days earlier, wounds reopened and new bruising and bites already happening. After his and Fraser's chaste and sickly sweet kiss they'd just shared moment ago, this was like a rude awakening, like stepping over the border only to be kicked in the teeth with a welcome to America reminder, but he's just as prepared to give his own welcome. Kowalski battles back with just as much determination, leaning into and against Fraser as he wrestles over the Mountie's shoulder with tongue and teeth and a eagerness to prove himself. He can get intimate and doe eyed with his partner and still be ready for a battle in the middle of it all.
He's barely even paying attention to anything outside of their warring mouths, until a stumble and slam has him hitting against the plaster walls, the weight of the two others hitting it with him winding him as he exhales heavily into the kiss. It's enough to kill his back but doesn't seem to stop him beyond a visible flinch, although he won't deny he's just a little grateful that Fraser chooses to intervene. The moment his lips break away from Vecchio's he's gasping for air, chin nestling against Benton's shoulder just long enough for him to suck in enough oxygen to keep his brain somewhat functioning, although breathing is really damn hard when his attention is being drawn to the other two locking lips. This must be what it was like for Vecchio to see the two of them at it earlier, although possibly with a little less trembling and anxiety twisted into it. It was ridiculously tender, Canadian-ly polite and sickeningly sweet and fuck it was far too hot to exist. Stanley's surprised he doesn't just come right there when he sees the face Benton makes as he withdraws, it's pretty much a miracle he stays dry when those wild but forgiving eyes gaze directly at him, all hopeful, expectant and seeking approval. There's no way Kowalski could stop this now, not even if he'd wanted to, not after that look.
He wants so desperately to encourage Fraser. Show him he'd done a good job, and as his hand wanders down from the Mountie's shoulder he finally notices that tunic had been undone, giving him a perfect opportunity to lift both hands, hook his thumbs into each of those suspenders and flick them down Fraser's shoulders along with that red serge. He wants his partner undressed yesterday. In fact, he'd really love to tear the rest of that uniform off right this fucking second but then he's hearing the breathy voice of Vecchio break the surface and Stan's suddenly blinking away from that Mountie gaze.]
Don't I know it. [He comments in return, but then his brain catches up with his mouth and he's trying to work out what that means. He's lucky? Vecchio's right there with them. Unless. Unless Ray means after this. After they've all tangled in each other and part ways, and Vecchio goes back to retirement and Kowalski's still there with Fraser, working and meeting and fucking... oh. Yeah. Maybe he's pretty lucky. Especially if this whole ordeal doesn't scare the Mountie off forever more. And even if it does? This might almost be worth it.]
You really gonna try givin' the orders again? That's how you think this is gonna work? [Which it apparently is, because even as he speaks those biting words, Stanley's quite willingly managing to shrug off his holster and squirm out of his t-shirt, even with the restriction of the wall and the Mountie that he's sandwiched between. But he'll blame the clothing removal on the quick temperature rise and not at all because Vecchio said to do it.]
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He's barely even paying attention to anything outside of their warring mouths, until a stumble and slam has him hitting against the plaster walls, the weight of the two others hitting it with him winding him as he exhales heavily into the kiss. It's enough to kill his back but doesn't seem to stop him beyond a visible flinch, although he won't deny he's just a little grateful that Fraser chooses to intervene. The moment his lips break away from Vecchio's he's gasping for air, chin nestling against Benton's shoulder just long enough for him to suck in enough oxygen to keep his brain somewhat functioning, although breathing is really damn hard when his attention is being drawn to the other two locking lips. This must be what it was like for Vecchio to see the two of them at it earlier, although possibly with a little less trembling and anxiety twisted into it. It was ridiculously tender, Canadian-ly polite and sickeningly sweet and fuck it was far too hot to exist. Stanley's surprised he doesn't just come right there when he sees the face Benton makes as he withdraws, it's pretty much a miracle he stays dry when those wild but forgiving eyes gaze directly at him, all hopeful, expectant and seeking approval. There's no way Kowalski could stop this now, not even if he'd wanted to, not after that look.
He wants so desperately to encourage Fraser. Show him he'd done a good job, and as his hand wanders down from the Mountie's shoulder he finally notices that tunic had been undone, giving him a perfect opportunity to lift both hands, hook his thumbs into each of those suspenders and flick them down Fraser's shoulders along with that red serge. He wants his partner undressed yesterday. In fact, he'd really love to tear the rest of that uniform off right this fucking second but then he's hearing the breathy voice of Vecchio break the surface and Stan's suddenly blinking away from that Mountie gaze.]
Don't I know it. [He comments in return, but then his brain catches up with his mouth and he's trying to work out what that means. He's lucky? Vecchio's right there with them. Unless. Unless Ray means after this. After they've all tangled in each other and part ways, and Vecchio goes back to retirement and Kowalski's still there with Fraser, working and meeting and fucking... oh. Yeah. Maybe he's pretty lucky. Especially if this whole ordeal doesn't scare the Mountie off forever more. And even if it does? This might almost be worth it.]
You really gonna try givin' the orders again? That's how you think this is gonna work? [Which it apparently is, because even as he speaks those biting words, Stanley's quite willingly managing to shrug off his holster and squirm out of his t-shirt, even with the restriction of the wall and the Mountie that he's sandwiched between. But he'll blame the clothing removal on the quick temperature rise and not at all because Vecchio said to do it.]