by brooklinegirl




Summary: When Kowalski gets in a mood like this, it's usually best to just go with it. Written for the Jewelry Challenge at ds_flashfiction.

Thanks to the wonderful and patient lynnmonster for her usual kick-ass beta job and for being cruel enough to shove me into the right point of view. *smooches you*

This one's for pearl_o, who put the idea in my head. Sorry it's Vecchio and Kowalski - I couldn't help myself.

When Kowalski gets in a mood like this, it's usually best to just go with it. Not that he really leaves me with much of a choice, but honestly, by the time I've been pushed up against the wall of our bedroom, with Kowalski plastered against me and sticking his tongue in my mouth, I can't think of very much I want to argue about.

Because - I try to get a handhold on him as he twists against me - Kowalski, man, he can kiss. He kisses like it's an Olympic sport. A slutty Olympic sport. He kisses like he's hungry for it, he kisses like he can't stand not to be kissing me.

He kisses like he means it.

He's got his hands all over me, and pushes his hard-on up against my hip in a hurry-hurry-hurry kind of way. The noises he's making make me think that he's pretty fucking close to getting off right here. Which turns me on hard.

But he's pulling back some, panting, and he gives me this considering look before leaning into press his damp lips against my cheek, pushing his hands between us to fumble at the buttons on my shirt.

"Hey," I say, hastily, "Hey, I got it..." Because buttons have a tendency to get ripped off when he's in a mood like this. And I really like this shirt. But he's already nudging my hands away roughly as he gets my shirt open without incident and starts in on my pants. I take a breath as his hands brush against my cock. "Okay. Okay. Let me..." I reach for the button on his jeans.

"Shhh," he says, pushing my hands aside again, his breath hot on my cheek.

"But, hey, listen, you gotta let me..."

"You gotta shut up," he says, soft and exasperated and tender, before putting his tongue back in my mouth. His hands are still working between us, sliding open my belt, fumbling with the button, the zipper, and, dizzy with his taste and his tongue, I decide to just hold on and let him work.

He pushes my shirt back off my shoulders. "Come on," he says urgently against my lips. "Come on," and he shoves my pants and boxers down off my hips. They pile around my ankles, and I'm left breathless and reaching as Kowalski backs off entirely. He slouches on the bed, sprawling back on his elbows with his feet still on the floor, his t-shirt scootching up to reveal a line of belly. I stare, and swallow. He just watches me for a long moment, breathing hard, then he smiles this slow, dirty smile. "You gonna get over here any time soon, or should I just take care of things myself?" He runs his hand slowly over the outline of his cock, clearly visible against the worn denim of his jeans.

I swiftly kick myself the rest of the way out of my pants. "You're such a fucking tease," I manage as I crawl on top of him. Grinning, he gives me a quick kiss and shoves his way backwards up the bed. I follow him and (finally, finally) get him pinned down, pushing him against the bed, and taking his head in my hands, kissing him - so fucking perfect. Perfect position. Perfect angle. I tongue-fuck his mouth, and get him to buck up against me, but I can still feel him trying to grin even as he kisses me, and that turns me on only slightly more than it annoys me.

I get his pants undone - no wonder his hard-on was so obvious, the bastard wasn't wearing anything under those soft, shabby jeans - as he sort of shimmies out of his t-shirt. God. I'm so fucking hard, I want to fuck him through the mattress. Wipe that grin off his face and make him scream. Which is why I don't know how or when or what, precisely, happens, but suddenly, I'm on my back and staring up at the ceiling. And I'm ready to complain - because I want to fuck Kowalski like there's no tomorrow - but then he licks his way quickly and precisely down my belly with his wet, wet tongue, and sucks my cock right into his mouth. And that's - that's really - really - not something I can bring myself to criticize. Instead, I gasp, "Fuck - yes - Kowalski, you fucking - fucking -" And then, somehow, with his mouth still full of my cock, he slides his tongue up the ridge on the bottom of it, and all I can do then is dig my heels into the mattress and hang on to the sheets.

It's good - Kowalski is good, he's so, so fucking good at this, such a mouth on this guy, such a fuckable mouth. I want to see this, I want to be able to look down and watch as he moves. But his mouth slides slickly up and down my cock, and his hand rests lightly on my hip, not holding me down, just there, but that does something to me that keeps me from so much as lifting my head off mattress, even though I want to see this so. Fucking. Bad.

I open my eyes and pant at the ceiling and shove myself up into Kowalski's mouth. His hand curls tighter around my hip, and oh Christ, I'm close, I'm - so close, fuck - I'm just -

His mouth slides off my cock, and his hand's gone from my hip.

"What the fuck -" I'm - I'd been just about to- "What the fuck," I gasp again, but then Kowalski's moving up my body and kissing me again, and driving his cock against my hip. And god - I put my hands on him, slide them all the way up his sweaty back, and then down again to his ass, grabbing him and dragging him closer, hard, harder.

He pulls away and I follow him blindly, looking for his mouth again. But he's squirmed away from me, and I roll onto my side to see him sprawling back on the bed, spread out and open and so fucking turned on that it sends a shiver through me just to watch him like this: his chest heaving as he tries to get his breath, even though he still has that shit-eating grin on his face. His hair crazy messy and damp with sweat. His cock - god, fucking beautiful, so damn hard and curved up against his body and as I look, he brings his hand down to stroke it slowly.

I swallow, my mouth going dry. "You got me right on the goddamn edge, Kowalski," I grate out.

His grin gets softer, and he shifts a little in his indecent sprawl. "Yeah, Vecchio?"

"Yeah," I manage. "Your mouth," I say, and have to stop to swallow again.

"Huh." Kowalski's eyes are dark and lidded. He licks his lips slowly - that fucking mouth, all red and swollen. "Well. Why don't you come up here, then?"

Which is - god - not an invitation to be refused. I frantically roll over on top of him, licking at those lips for a second before getting on my knees, starting to move up his body - I need to get my cock back in his mouth, stick it between those lush lips and just brace myself and let my head hang down and watch myself fucking his hot, hot mouth...

I'm straddling his chest when he looks up at me and wraps his hands around my thighs, breathing, "Christ, I could come from just watching you."

And I gasp roughly, and grab at Kowalski's shoulders, and come all over his chest, cursing.

"Fuck," Kowalski says succinctly, looking up at me and then down at the come spattering his chest and neck.

Then I'm on my back - again - and Kowalski's sprawled on top of me and is shoving my legs open wide. "Fuck," Kowalski says again, his voice tight as he looks right down into my face. "That was maybe the hottest thing I've ever seen." He kisses me hard, messy, his tongue thrusting in, before tearing himself away and lurching half-off of me. I'm just lying here, head spinning from coming so damn hard. So damn hard all over Kowalski, Jesus, all over his chest, dripping down his neck, fuck -

And then Kowalski's twisting, smoothly, and - Jesus - shoving two well-slicked fingers into me. I gasp and grapple for that handhold on the sheets again. He looks at me, his eyes so fucking hot. "Fuck, Ray, just - god," he pants. "I gotta - just -"

He's scrambling to his knees and pushing my legs up and back and then he's - Christ, Christ - shoving into me, going halfway in on the very first thrust. "Jesus," he says desperately. "You okay? I just… I gotta…"

And I gasp out, "Yeah. God. Fuck me, Kowalski."

He clenches his eyes shut tight and sinks the rest of the way in, pressing his lips together and muttering curses under his breath. I'm pinned there, limp, fucking gone, and I don't think I've ever been so turned on in my life as I am right now, watching Ray fuck me, come all over him. All over both of us. Christ, we're a mess and I'm bent practically in half and Ray's moving now, fucking me, fucking me hard and steady, drawing in his breath as a moan each time he sinks deep into me. Fucking me like he needs to, fucking me like he means it.

"Vecchio, Christ," he mutters, his eyes slitted open and staring down at me, full of heat. "Jesus. You just," and here his head tilts back and he fucks me harder, "You just lost it. Hot," he says softly, driving into me again and again, leaving me to just clutch at his shoulders and moan my agreement. "So hot, so damn..." He groans, dropping his head down heavily onto my shoulder and comes deep inside me, shuddering all over.

I press my lips to his sweaty hair. "Jesus, Ray," I say, and he moves, pulling out of me with a groan and flopping to one side.

"Yeah," he agrees, still panting. He shoves a hand up through his hair, and closes his eyes for a few seconds, just lying there breathing. I roll onto my side and watch. He looks destroyed.

"Jesus," he says again, then opens his eyes and looks down at himself, moving his hand to run his fingers through the come smeared on his chest. Still touching himself, he grins over at me. "You…"

"Shut up," I mutter, blushing what feels like three shades of red.

"Yeah, but…" Kowalski's voice is full of barely-contained amusement, and I shove at him.

"It's your fault anyway, you know," I say, still blushing hotly.

"My fault?" He grins at me widely. "My fault that you have no self-contr…"

I roll on top of him, grabbing his arms and pinning them above his head. He makes a soft sound in his throat, but he's still chuckling. "Your fault, Kowalski," I breathe. "You and that smart mouth of yours."

"You love it," he murmurs, moving his wrists. I pin him down harder and there's that soft sound again.

"You're crazy," I say roughly.

"Sure," Kowalski agrees, and I bend to kiss his smart, soft mouth till he didn't seem to have any comebacks left at all.


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