[There's a long dragged out moment where Ray considers regretting his words, staring at Fraser over Vecchio's shoulder as the Mountie slowly appears to lose all ability to think, let alone properly stand. It's that look that concerns Stan, that look that almost says I'm ready to bolt, but might as just likely be I have no idea how to process this new information. Fraser didn't even seem to be looking at him any more, eyes glazed as they are, oddly vacant compared to the usual alertness. Perhaps that truth was too far. The anonymous element of sex in an interrogation room with a guy called 'Ben' and some Italian might have been more appropriate.
But as quick as it had started, Fraser clicks back into reality and seems more than willing to continue. That reassuring drag of teeth was enough to get Stanley purring out a soft hum of agreement, and another as he witnesses the bite at Ray's ear. Good Mountie. Benton always was a quick learner. That purr turns more into a moan by the time he's hearing the ragged gold voice smooth out between them, and oh God he wants to hear more of that and see more of this.
He tilts forward enough to press a kiss to the corner of Fraser's lips and then withdraws just far enough to keep Vecchio in sight as the detective speaks. Lube. Right, that should be a thing that happens, even if there really should be some questioning as to why there's lube in his pocket to begin with. Fraser's supposed to be the one ready for anything, but that's an argument to save for another day.
With a final soft nod to Fraser, Stanley drops again, quick on his descent this time to get right to the issue, both hands withdrawing long enough for him to sort this holster and pants issue out. He knows how ankle holsters work considering how often he tends to wear his own, so his fingers work deftly at the fastenings. The struggle comes in trying to wrestle the pants fabric and holster away from one another but he does surprisingly well with it all, holster dumped aside (careful of the firearm inside) and the pants aided the rest of the way down for Vecchio to step out of. That sorted gives Kowalski free reign to fumble for the lube, retrieving it quickly and only giving it the briefest of glances before he's tearing it open and squirting a liberal amount on his fingers.]
Learn some fuckin' patience, Vecchio.
[While he's down there he gets himself comfortable, down on one knee and raising his other hand to reach around and grip at Fraser's hip for support. The fingers of his other hand trace a slick path up the inside of Vecchio's thighs, between them and then carefully creeping back. A single digit circles, smearing lubricant in it's wake before pushing up and in, wriggling itself deeper with a few twists and curls on it's way. When Stanley isn't snapping back retorts, he's mouthing against the sensitive skin at the top crease of thigh near to Benton's hands, nipping every now and then for effect and all too hopeful of bruising.]
We're both guilty, Ben, buddy. Both got Mounties on the mind. You're a real asshole for that.
no subject
But as quick as it had started, Fraser clicks back into reality and seems more than willing to continue. That reassuring drag of teeth was enough to get Stanley purring out a soft hum of agreement, and another as he witnesses the bite at Ray's ear. Good Mountie. Benton always was a quick learner. That purr turns more into a moan by the time he's hearing the ragged gold voice smooth out between them, and oh God he wants to hear more of that and see more of this.
He tilts forward enough to press a kiss to the corner of Fraser's lips and then withdraws just far enough to keep Vecchio in sight as the detective speaks. Lube. Right, that should be a thing that happens, even if there really should be some questioning as to why there's lube in his pocket to begin with. Fraser's supposed to be the one ready for anything, but that's an argument to save for another day.
With a final soft nod to Fraser, Stanley drops again, quick on his descent this time to get right to the issue, both hands withdrawing long enough for him to sort this holster and pants issue out. He knows how ankle holsters work considering how often he tends to wear his own, so his fingers work deftly at the fastenings. The struggle comes in trying to wrestle the pants fabric and holster away from one another but he does surprisingly well with it all, holster dumped aside (careful of the firearm inside) and the pants aided the rest of the way down for Vecchio to step out of. That sorted gives Kowalski free reign to fumble for the lube, retrieving it quickly and only giving it the briefest of glances before he's tearing it open and squirting a liberal amount on his fingers.]
Learn some fuckin' patience, Vecchio.
[While he's down there he gets himself comfortable, down on one knee and raising his other hand to reach around and grip at Fraser's hip for support. The fingers of his other hand trace a slick path up the inside of Vecchio's thighs, between them and then carefully creeping back. A single digit circles, smearing lubricant in it's wake before pushing up and in, wriggling itself deeper with a few twists and curls on it's way. When Stanley isn't snapping back retorts, he's mouthing against the sensitive skin at the top crease of thigh near to Benton's hands, nipping every now and then for effect and all too hopeful of bruising.]
We're both guilty, Ben, buddy. Both got Mounties on the mind. You're a real asshole for that.