Notes: Written for JB80.
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Ray hates everything about Kowalski. The way he walks around the station like he knows that everyone's eyes are following him, the way he laughs when he's had one too many beers, locking eyes with Ray and giving him that fuck me smile. The way he always smells like cheap cologne and hair gel, and how he has to touch everything, everyone, worse than the freaking Mountie, even.
He can't stand the way Kowalski dresses, like he's never heard of class, and the way he talks way too loud in the mornings to compensate for the fact that he's on his first coffee of the day and really isn't functioning yet. He hates that goddamn car, too, and the way Kowalski treats it like it's actually worth something. Guy dumps a Riv in the lake, and goes around in that thing? It's a travesty.
But late at night, when Kowalski's got those long fingers wrapped around Ray's hips, pressing him back into the door of that car, Ray knows that he really doesn't hate any of that at all. He just hates that he can't have Kowalski's lips on his cock every second of the day.