Notes: Written for justbreathe80.
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Kowalski was naked when Ray got home.
Must be Monday.
Of course, granted, usually on Mondays Kowalski was just getting out of the shower when Ray walked through the door. It's not like he would just waltz around with nothing on for the hell of it (although Ray probably wouldn't complain if he did).
But today Ray was later than usual, and still, there was Kowalski, stretched out on the couch with one arm flung over his eyes and the other draped across his stomach, looking like the sexiest thing Ray had ever seen.
At first Ray thought he was sleeping, but then Kowalski shifted a little, let one of his legs drape off the couch, and Ray realized that he was hard, his fingers drifting lightly across the skin of his stomach, teasing himself.
Christ.
He hadn't seen Ray yet, so he stayed quiet in the doorway, letting one of his own hands reach down to rub himself through his pants. He hadn't gotten this hard this fast since he was a kid. But the sight of Kowalski there, one hand still across his eyes like he was trying to block out the world, the other moving closer and closer to his leaking cock...it turned Ray on like he couldn't believe.
Kowalski let out a small sound as he wrapped a hand around himself, his hips coming up off the couch, the hand that was covering his eyes reaching up to hold on to the back of the couch instead. His eyes were open now, staring up at the ceiling, and Ray pressed himself back against the wall of the hallway, hoping that he wouldn't notice him. His own dick was throbbing, so he reached down to unzip his pants, biting his lip to keep from crying out as he took himself in hand and stroked a few times to the same rhythm as Kowalski.
Long slow strokes, twisting his hips up off the couch, head flung back against a cushion, porn fucking personified. He reached for something tucked into the back of the couch, and Ray might have groaned when Kowalski started slicking up his fingers, but Kowalski was too far gone to notice, reaching beneath himself and letting out a gasp that Ray knew only too well. That was the sound he made when Ray pushed into him, when he held him down into the mattress and pressed himself up against his back, both of them slick with sweat and lube, and he fucked him, slow and hard at first and then faster and harder still until they were both crying out and coming�and Christ, Ray was coming now, head slamming back against the wall, a moan escaping his lips, and when he opened his eyes, still coming onto his fingers and his clothes and the floor, Kowalski was watching him, mouth open, eyes dark with desire.
He got to watch Kowalski as he came, saw the moment when his fingers twisted inside himself and his hand tightened on his dick, and he broke, gasping out Ray's name as he thrust into his fist with erratic strokes.
He sank back into the couch, breathing hard, watching Ray with one of those cocky grins on his face, so Ray just had to cross the room and kiss it off of him. "Get a good show?" Kowalski asked when they broke apart, and Ray leaned in to bite lightly at his jaw.
"You knew I was there the whole time," he said, not really asking, and Kowalski just kept on grinning.
"Happy Monday," he said against Ray's neck.