(Thanks to Gurrier for beta!)

NOTE: this story contains adult content.

"Just stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Fuck, Stanley. You know what." Little fucker is just out of range, jittering around like a kid after Halloween. I throw my book at him.

"Hey." He bares his teeth, even though I didn't hit him. I leer back. He bends over and picks up the book. "What's this, Vecchio? You thinking about going back to get your high school? "

I got nothing else to throw, so I settle for flipping him off. He grins at me, still half-distracted by the book in his hand. "Wild Animals I Have Known. This some kinda personal memoir, Vecchio? Like a kiss-and-tell book or something?"

I roll my eyes. "Ha ha."

He flips some pages. "It's all animal stories, you know."

"I know." I put all the kybosh I got into my voice, but Kowalski, of course, just keeps on talking.

"So...what the fuck, Vecchio? I mean, not that I'd ever expect you to be reading any kind of book, but if you did, I'd have thought...I don't know. Spy novels or something. Or maybe Vogue?" He eyes me, looking for a response, but I'm sick of this conversation all of a sudden. I get to my feet and grab the book right out of his hand.

He lets me take it. But then he follows me into the kitchen. I open the fridge. Pull out a beer and look around for the opener. This place is a fucking sty. Benny's gonna...

"Come on, Vecchio. You can tell me. Why the hell are you reading Fraser's book?"

I smack the beer down on the counter, turn around to glare at him. He grins back. "Just leave it, Stanley," I tell him.

"Aww. Don't get embarrassed. I won't tell the guy." He's practically bouncing in place, he's so worked up about this. Fucking Kowalski. He's just like a little girl when it comes to gossip.

I curl my lip at him. "Tell him whatever you want. It's just a book. I was bored in the can, brought it along to keep busy."

"Yeah, right. Just happened to pick up a copy of Fraser's favourite book from when he was a little kid. Cause it just happened to be on your way to the john."

I lift my chin. "Yeah. That's right."

Kowalski gives me his best Clint Eastwood. Only since he's a skinny little Polack, he just looks myopic, and kind of shifty. "Give it up, Vecchio. You got a crush on the Mountie."

"Fuck you, Stanley. I ain't the faggot around here." I can feel myself getting worked up for real; force myself to take a couple of deep breaths. Benny trusted us to look after his nice new place. I figure the least we can do is not trash it.

Kowalski isn't backing down, though. He's grinning like he's teasing, but there's something else in his face, too. Something a lot more desperate. He steps in close and I catch a whiff of his aftershave, the minty bite of the gum he's chewing. "Shit, Vecchio," he says, "If it walks like a..."

And I think, real clear, just leave it, this ain't worth it, but my hands got a mind of their own, evidently. They come up and grab a double handful of Kowalski's white t-shirt and then bam, I got him shoved up hard against the opposite wall. "Shut. Your goddamn. Mouth." I shake him a little, as punctuation. On the last word, his breath kind of whuffs out of him and his head smacks the wall. He doesn't struggle, though. Just hangs there in my grip, his chest heaving under my knuckles, and grins at me.

"Tough guy," he says, "That's kind of sexy, Vecchio."

I curl my lip again. Shift my grip on his shirt. I can feel his ribs underneath my hands, sharp and breakable, even through the t-shirt and his skin. Fucker is still looking at me. Those eyes are half-lidded, like he's drowsy. I swallow hard. The eyes widen a little. "Huh," he says. And then the next thing I know, the bastard's kissing me.

Kissing me good, too. Kowalski's got these soft lips on him, and that quick tongue ain't shy at all. It slides into my mouth and meets mine and I grunt in spite of myself and get closer. Kowalski tilts his head a little, makes this soft noise in the back of his throat. And shit, yeah, I'm into this, more into this than I've been into anything for...fuck. Years. I let go of Kowalski's shirt with one hand, move it up so I can get my fingers in his hair. He moans against my lips, breathes hot on my cheek when I twist my fingers deeper and pull. "Fuck," he says, "Oh, fuck. Vecchio."

I grin and duck my head so I can lip at his neck. He whimpers. His hands slide up from my waist, pressing the silk of my shirt against my skin, then gripping it, tugging it out of my pants. I bite him a little, close my lips and suck. He gasps out loud.

"Slut," I say against his wet skin.

I hear his breathy laugh. "Faggot." He's working on getting my shirt unbuttoned and he has his leg hooked around mine, pulling me in hard so our groins are pressed together.

I get my mouth on his neck again, lick and suck my way down to his collarbone. He keeps his head back, his neck bared. My shirt is hanging open, now. He's got his hands inside it, sliding over my bare chest, shoving the silk back off my shoulders. I thrust against him, hard, and he groans. Lets his head fall forward so he can suck on the top of my shoulder. His tongue flicks out against my skin and Jesus, oh, there's this sharp sweet something lancing straight through my dick. "Stanley," I gasp, "Get the fuck into the bedroom."

He laughs against my shoulder, licks me again. I moan, and my legs go kind of rubbery, but just as soon as I got control of my muscles again, I pull away from him. Use the hand I still got clutching his t-shirt to yank him off the wall. Get my other hand around the nape of his neck and frog-march him across the living room to Benny's bedroom. He comes along easy once I get him moving. I'm starting to figure out something important about Kowalski.

I get him right to the edge of the bed and shove him down on it. He rolls onto his back and just lies there, grinning up at me. I shake my head. "You disgust me," I tell him, and get a knee on the mattress between his spread legs. I find the button of his faded blue-jeans and give it a yank, one-handed. His eyes go dark with approval, those long fingers skating over my forearm. "This is why you let Benny walk all over you," I say, breathlessly, pulling down his fly, "You like this. You like getting pushed around, told what to do. Being somebody's bitch." I have to stop there because his jeans are open and my hand is inside them and I'm not sure I can keep my voice steady now his cock is pushing into my palm. I gasp instead, trying to push his shorts out of the way.

He lifts up off the bed and oh, Jesus, he looks like sex embodied with his jeans and underwear half off his hips, that t-shirt riding up over his chest. I groan and yank his pants the rest of the way off, get my own fly undone before I lower myself down on top of him. He kisses me hard, hands curved around my face, holding me there, thighs squeezing me. I moan into his mouth. My cock is slick with somebody's pre-come and it keeps sliding right along his--he's got my pants down somehow, I don't remember when. He gives my tongue one last suck. Lets his head drop onto the bed. I lower my mouth to that neck again.

"So Vecchio," he says, curving his fingers around the back of my skull, "You sure you're the one in charge here?"

I make an "of course" kind of noise because actually speaking would mean taking my mouth off his neck and I don't want to do that because fuck, Kowalski tastes good, and whenever I close my teeth on him like this he breathes out and does this wicked little shimmy.

But he laughs at me, his fingertips ruffling what's left of my hair. "Yeah?" he says, "Well I bet I can make you beg me."

I huff a laugh into the curve of his shoulder. "Fuck off," I tell him. My hand is up under his t-shirt, my fingers plucking at his nipple. He gasps and squirms against me. I have to suck in a quick breath to keep from coming all over him right there.

He grabs my head again, pulls me up for another long kiss. "Seriously," he says against my lips, "I bet you fifty bucks."

I kiss him again, then haul that shirt up over his head. He curls himself around me and being as we're both naked now, it feels good as sin, all that warm skin pressing up together, sweat-slick and fuck... "You're on," I say, or sort of say--I can't really talk so well anymore.

Kowalski slants me another one of those gut-twisting smiles. And then, holy mother--things go off the deep end. He's kissing me again and we're rolling over on Benny's bed, and I don't fucking care because he's got those fucking fingers wrapped around my cock, jacking me slow and easy, the pad of his thumb rubbing over my wet slit. "Uh," I say against his ear. He laughs a breath onto my cheek, his tongue flicking out to taste the line of my jaw. Wet heat, that fucking mouth on my neck, lipping my skin, biting me, making me pant and squirm and thrust my cock into his--shit--capable hand. "Beg me," he says, all hoarse-voiced and soft. His tongue just brushes my nipple.

"F-f-fuck," I gasp. My fingers seem to be in his hair so I close them, give it a yank. "No way." Kowalski laughs again. Then he closes his mouth on my nipple.

I swear to God I never meant to come up off the bed that way, gasping, groaning embarrassingly loud in the dark room. He keeps on sucking, keeps stroking my cock, squeezing just fucking hard enough. I look down at him, see those lips open and wet against my skin, the rounded muscles in his arm moving as he jacks me, making that stupid tattoo jump around. I let my head fall back on the bed again, my eyes squeezed closed. If I watch him any longer, I'm pretty sure I'll lose it right here.

His teeth close on my nipple and then he's moving lower, licking my belly, mouthing my hip. I hear myself moan. His hot breath is on my straining cock. And then sweet Mary mother of God, he's got his fist around the base of my cock and he's licking me, tongue flat and wide. "Oh," I say, "Oh Jesus, Kowalski..." I feel him laugh. And then he's got me, his fucking lips are on me, closing around my cock, sucking me in.

I want to grab him but my body is fucking melted or something and I can't do anything but clutch at the sheets and pant up at the ceiling. Kowalski's moving now. I can just see the top of that blond head bobbing up and down, the curve of his cheek, the clenched muscles in his shoulder where his free arm is draped over my hips, pinning me to the mattress. "Uh," I say, because it bears repeating. Kowalski doesn't stop for a second, but he hums a little. I forget how to breathe.

His rhythm shifts, and he does too. He keeps that evil mouth moving on my cock, but he's slowed down some, and he's moving his free arm down, pushing his shoulder underneath my thigh. I want to protest but I can't think, and then he's unwrapping the hand that was stroking the base of my cock and he's sliding it down, giving my balls a friendly squeeze and then moving lower, past them. And his shoulder shoves harder, lifting my thigh, and his mouth moves down, swallowing my cock and then oh, oh, yeah Kowalski, fuck--two wet fingers push their way inside me, a long, twisting stroke.

He's such a dirty little fucker. I want to tell him so but I can't. I can't even breathe. I'm fucking hyperventilating, clutching at the sheets, gasping out words that don't mean squat. Kowalski's long fingers have me spread and they're in me deep, and Christ, oh yeah, he's found the good spot with his fingertips. He rubs on it mercilessly, sucking me hard and fast, holding me right where he wants me with that arm hooked under my hip. I hear my own voice sounding like somebody else's. I can feel the edge rushing up at me like a goddamn runaway train.

And then that hellspawn motherfucker stops. Keeps stroking me with those fingers up my ass, but his head goes still, his tongue curved lazy around my twitching cock. "Nnngh," I say, which basically is my way of explaining what a dangerous game it is he's playing here.

He lifts his eyes to my face, and his mouth is still on me and fuck, he looks like something from the best porn flick you ever saw--that hair all messed up from my fingers, his chin glistening with come and spit. I groan. He quirks an eyebrow at me. "Oh Jesus fucking Christ, you goddamn asshole, please, please, Kowalski. Please don't fucking stop."

And yeah, it was worth it because he's moving again, the bastard's even sucking me deeper, and he's playing a wet fingertip around the rim of my stretched asshole, and his tongue is...Oh Christ, oh yeah... "Oh yeah, Kowalski, yeah, yeah, please, baby, don't stop..." This shit is just coming out of me now, but I don't care, I don't care, I don't. Kowalski seems to like it anyhow. His eyes fall closed. He moans around my cock, and twists his head a little on the way down and that's it, I'm coming, spurting deep in his throat.

He keeps sucking me until it starts to hurt and I wrap weak fingers around his chin and pull him off. Then he climbs up my boneless body and wraps his long limbs around me, tucks that blond head under my chin. I get an arm around him somehow. One of my eyes won't open, but I squint at him with the other one and see his shit-eating grin. "Fucker," I tell him.

"Yeah. But you love me for it."

I snort. My fingers are on the back of his head, pushing through his sweaty hair. "You wish," I say.

He just squirms in closer. "Aww. Come on, Vecchio. I thought I was your baby."

I cuff the back of his head. Still don't have much strength in my arms though, so he just laughs again. Whatever. Guy can give a blowjob like that, I figure he deserves a little time to gloat. Maybe even that fifty bucks, too. I slide my hand down his side, trailing my fingertips over his ribs. He shivers against me. Figures he'd be ticklish. I save the knowledge for later. Let my other eye fall closed.

They both fly open again a second later. "Whoa, there," I say, "I gotta...I mean, you didn't..."

Kowalski snorts, breath stirring the hair on my chest. "Calm down, there, cowboy. I already took care of it." He sounds sleepy too.

I peer down at him. His eyes are closed. His fingers are playing idly with one of my nipples. "With what fucking hand?" I say, remembering how he seemed to be able to touch me everywhere at once.

He snorts again. "With Fraser's sheets, mostly. Don't worry about it. You'll owe me."

I smile. Cocky little son of a bitch. Like it's a given there's gonna be a next time. Still, I let my head sink deeper in the pillow, pull him in tight against my side. All that shit we can work out later. Right now I just need to sleep.

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