He Never Knew He Had
Notes: Expanded from A Dangerous Man With a Gun in His Hand for JB80's LJversary.
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The first time Ray Vecchio held a gun, he was thirteen years old in Frankie Zuko's basement.
Frankie stood behind him, telling him about the gun, showing it off as if it was his own instead of his father's, but Ray didn't hear a word he said. He watched his fingers glide across the cool metal, tipped it to see vague reflections cast against it, the way the dim light caught at its smooth edges. He held it as if it were glass, as if it were art.
It's not loaded, Frankie said, and the scorn in his voice made Ray hold it more naturally, more like a man.
That night they made out on Frankie's couch, both of them frantic and awkward and still tasting like the faintest hint of stolen liquor, and when Ray slipped a hand into Frankie's back pocket to pull him closer, he could feel the sharp catch of the key to the gun cabinet against his skin.
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When Ray got back to Chicago, Elaine was a cop.
It was another four and a half weeks before he saw her in action, because they had their own partners, their own cases, but then all of a sudden they were working a case together and he was standing in an alley, watching her pull a gun on a man.
That night, he went to bed determined not to get turned on by the thought of Elaine as a cop, cool and gorgeous and in control as she snapped handcuffs on a suspect. By the time he gave up on that, he was already hard, and his breathing was a little shaky, and when he finally clasped his hand around his cock, he let out a tiny gasp into the quiet of his room.
He imagined sliding blue fabric away from smooth skin, leaning in to lick the curve of a breast, a collarbone, feeling her rocking against him, as breathless and desperate as he was. She'd still have her pants and holster on as she leaned in to take him into her mouth, and her eyes would stay open, watching him.
He could imagine that she would be a woman who liked sucking cock, even now that she was a cop. Especially now. It was just a different kind of power, a different way of owning a man, kneeling between his legs and sucking him, making him powerless, as powerless as if she was holding a gun to his head...
He cried out when he came, curling in on himself, clutching at the blankets with his free hand, feeling himself imploding in a way he hadn't felt in quite a long time. It took a while for his breath to come back, and he lay there against the pillows, wondering why being a cop was never as sexy as imagining sex with one.
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"Long day?" Kowalski asked when he walked in the door, and Ray didn't even dignify that with a response.
"Mmm," he said appreciatively as Fraser appeared behind him to peel off Ray's coat. Long day didn't even begin to cover it, and with the two of them having spent the last few days up in Canada, long week was a lot closer to the truth. "How was the great white whatever?" he asked, and Kowalski made a face behind Fraser's back that pretty much summed up his entire opinion of the trip.
"It was wonderful, Ray," Fraser said, and Kowalski shook his head to show that Fraser had a miserable time too. "But we missed you."
"Yeah, missed you too," Ray said, and didn't even protest when Fraser steered him over towards Kowalski but didn't let him sit.
"You know, we were talking," Fraser began, and Ray groaned.
"Never a good sign, knowing the two of you."
"Remember that time at work, when you..." Fraser made a completely indecipherable signal with his hand.
"When I what?"
"You know, Ray, when you..." he gestured vaguely in the direction of his pants, and Ray looked helplessly over his shoulder at Kowalski to translate.
"When you blew him in the supply closet," he explained, while Fraser turned an interesting shade of red.
"Oh. That. Yeah?"
"And you remember that time a few months ago when you made me pull over into that alley and fucked me up against my car?" Kowalski asked.
Ray grinned. "Oh yeah, I remember that."
"Well, we think we know why," Fraser said.
"Why what?"
"Why you did it."
"You mean, having two guys who I desperately want to fuck on a daily basis isn't a good enough reason?"
"It's a pretty good reason," Kowalski conceded, standing up from the couch and wrapping his arms around Ray's chest from behind. "But we don't think it's the reason."
And then Ray felt Kowalski's holster pressing into his hip. "Oh," he breathed against Fraser's lips as Fraser leaned in to kiss him, and he could feel them curve into a smile.
"You like this, don't you, Ray?" Fraser asked, and Ray closed his eyes, let his head fall back against Kowalski's shoulder.
"Yeah," he agreed, "yeah," and he felt Kowalski's lips and teeth close around his earlobe. Fraser was working his way down Ray's chest, unbuttoning his shirt, his mouth finding skin under each undone button, slowly making Ray melt back against Kowalski. Once he was shirtless, they moved him to the couch, and he sprawled back into the cushions, watching Fraser taking off his own shirt, until Kowalski came over and straddled Ray's lap, kissing him slowly, deeply.
He pulled back a little, his lips swollen, making him look a little bit like a debauched teenager, and he pulled his gun out. "It is this, isn't it?" he asked. "Fraser thought�and I thought he was nuts. But you�" he paused, and Ray's fingers traced nervous designs across Kowalski's jeans. Kowalski caught his other hand, turned it over, lifted it up to lick his fingers, his palm, then brought it back down again. He reached across, dragged the barrel of the gun over the skin of Ray's wrist, and Ray shivered.
"Ray," Fraser said, and they both turned to look at him, perched against the arm of the couch, shirtless and somehow looking even more debauched than Kowalski, even though they had barely touched him. Ray reached out to run a hand down Fraser's chest while Kowalski strapped his gun away, and then they were both pulling at Fraser, tugging him down onto the couch with them. He knelt beside Ray, kissing him thoroughly while Kowalski slid down onto the floor, pulling Ray's pants and boxers away with him.
Ray groaned into Fraser's mouth when Kowalski sucked him in, and tightened his legs around Kowalski's sides, feeling the press of the gun on the inside of his leg. One of his hands found Fraser's zipper, slipped his hand inside to stroke him, tight and fast, to the same rhythm Kowalski was moving. Fraser thrust into his hand, his lips finding Ray's throat, his ear, his shoulder, any skin they could reach. Ray could feel Fraser pressing into his hand, but he kept his eyes on Kowalski, on that blond head moving steadily between his legs.
He could feel Kowalski's arm moving against him, rubbing himself through his pants, and that got him hotter than anything, knowing that blowing him turned Kowalski on that fucking much, that he just couldn't get enough of sucking Ray's cock. They moved in a steady rhythm, Ray's hand on Fraser, Kowalski's mouth on Ray, Kowalski's hand on himself, all of them gasping and panting at alternate moments, Kowalski humming around Ray's cock when Ray's other hand found his hair, held on to him tight enough to hurt.
Fraser came first, biting Ray's shoulder and spilling across Ray's hand, his own pants. He sagged down into the sofa cushions, resting his forehead against Ray's neck, kissing it lightly as he draped his other hand across the back of Kowalski's head, holding him there against Ray's cock.
That seemed to set Kowalski off, the feeling of Fraser setting the pace of his sucking, and he moaned around Ray's dick, his hand moving faster against Ray's leg, and then slowing, stopping. Ray thrust up into his mouth, feeling himself breaking a little more with each twist of Kowalski's head, each curl of his tongue, until he was letting out a wordless cry, clutching at Fraser's leg next to him at one hand while the other helplessly curled and uncurled in Kowalski's hair. Kowalski licked him clean, taking his time, and then he climbed up onto the couch to pillow his head on Ray's leg.
"Hmm," Ray said contentedly, and he felt Fraser chuckle beside him.
"We thought you'd like that," he said, his voice slow and sleepy, and Ray let a hand drift down Kowalski's side, feeling the soft leather of his holster.
"Yeah," he agreed, and fell asleep with a smile on his face.