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Jan. 15th, 2004 01:58 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
murielperun.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionI haven't been posting much here because I've been swamped, and because it always seems that by the time I get inspired, the challenge is over. Two week challenges rule! And I suppose this challenge appealed to my moody nature, being angsty by definition.
So, here's my contribution to the one-night stand challenge.
It Happened One Night
by Muriel Perun
Ray Vecchio shifted uneasily in his seat. “Will you get that greasy shit outta here?” he said petulantly.
Ray Kowalski glanced at the crumpled fast food bags on the floor. “What do you care? It ain’t your car.”
“It stinks. It was bad enough eating that crap without smelling it the rest of the night.”
“Nobody forced it down your throat. And, hey, if you don’t like it, why don’t you go throw it out? Why are you asking me?”
Vecchio grinned. “It ain’t my car. I don’t wanna presume.”
“Fuck you, Vecchio.”
“Original.” Vecchio picked up the binoculars and looked carefully around the entrance to the house they were watching, which was bathed in moonlight. “I swear he ain’t in there. I think we got a bum tip.”
Kowalski shifted in his seat. “You wanna go?”
Vecchio glanced at him sharply. “Not yet. It’s only 1:00 a.m. What’s your hurry, you got a date?”
“I wanna get home.”
“What for? You got someone waiting?”
“Maybe. I got things to do.”
Vecchio snorted. “Yeah, you got a date with your right hand.”
Kowalski lifted his chin defiantly. “So what if I do? It was whacked to watch those porno movies just before a stakeout.”
“Yeah, it was,” Vecchio said quietly.
“‘Let’s see what the guy’s product is before we go after him,’ you said,” Kowalski said mockingly. “‘It’ll help us understand what makes him tick.’ Yeah, bullshit. All it did was give me a—”
“Don’t go there, Kowalski,” Vecchio said brusquely. “Believe me, I don’t wanna know what it gave you.”
“That’s too bad, Vecchio, ‘cause I thought maybe we could do something about it.”
Vecchio looked at him and laughed. “You’re crazy. Or you’re yanking my chain. Or—” He laughed again suddenly.
“What?” Kowalski asked, irritated.
“Hey, I get it now. I get the GTO and the spiked hair and everything.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, you’re still in high school.”
Kowalski grinned. “You think you’re so goddamn smart, Vecchio, but you just told me something about you in high school. Something real interesting.”
“Oh, get stuffed, Stanley. You’re so full of shit.” Vecchio sounded seriously pissed, and Kowalski smiled. “You want to sit in the car and beat off, and when Mr. Porno comes out of his house, we’ll be sitting here holding our dicks, and he’ll feel right at home.”
“I’m right, huh?”
Vecchio was silent, looking through the binoculars again. “I say we leave,” he said, his jaw set. “No one’s gonna come out of that house tonight.”
“Truth or dare,” Kowalski said suddenly.
Vecchio’s eyes got wide. “You’re crazy.”
“Come on, Vecchio. I’m still in high school, remember? Truth or dare?”
“Neither.”
“You scared? You scared of what I might ask you?”
Vecchio leaned across the seat. “I ain’t scared of you or anything you could do. Get that in your head right now.”
“Truth or dare?” Kowalski repeated stubbornly.
“Oh, fuck. Truth.” Vecchio stared him down like a hawk. “Ask a good one ‘cause you’re only getting one chance.”
Kowalski swallowed hard. “Did you ever do it with Fraser?”
Vecchio’s mouth went slack and the color drained from his face. “Did I ever… I thought you were gonna ask… That ain’t fair!”
“I asked a question,” Kowalski said, leaning forward. “That’s how the game is played. I asked it, you answer it.”
“Yeah.” A long silence stretched out.
“Are you agreeing with me or is that your answer?”
“Yeah, I did it with Fraser, okay? So help me, Stanley, if you tell one—”
“I knew it! How many times?” In his excitement, Kowalski slid across the seat towards him.
“One question, one answer,” said Vecchio, folding his arms. “Your turn.”
“How many times?” Kowalski asked again.
“I don’t know,” Vecchio said carefully. “Did I count?” Kowalski looked down at the seat. “Okay, I get a question,” Vecchio continued. “Did you ever do it with Fraser?”
“Original,” Kowalski said to the seat. “Dare.”
“Answer it, Stanley.” Vecchio sounded threatening.
“I’m not picking truth. Give me a dare.”
“A dare? What kind of—” Vecchio smiled slowly. “You sure you don’t want truth? You might not like my dare.”
“Go for it.”
“Okay. I dare you to give me a blow job. Now, you wanna go back to truth?” Kowalski moved closer and suddenly Vecchio backed up against the door. “What are you doing?”
“You want your blow job or not?” He looked into Vecchio’s face, his eyes challenging, his mouth in a smug twist.
Vecchio relaxed against him. “Yeah, I want it. Now would be good.”
“You’re a pig, Vecchio.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who wanted to play this stupid game.”
Kowalski got right in his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll do it. Pull it out.”
Vecchio took Kowalski by the chin and pushed his face away. “You.”
Kowalski’s fingers brushed Vecchio’s crotch, finding the zipper and quickly releasing it. “Briefs,” he said. “I took you for a boxer kind of guy.”
“Cut the commentary on my shorts,” Vecchio said curtly. “Just do it.”
“You like to give orders, don’t you, Vecchio?” Kowalski was pumping him up now, and Vecchio’s breath came short. “But I got your life in my hands, don’t I?"
“When are you gonna get it in your mouth and stop talking?”
“Pig.” Kowalski bent to taste it.
Vecchio swore.
“How long’s it been, Vecchio?” Kowalski asked mockingly.
“Too long,” Vecchio gasped. “It’s always too long between blow jobs.”
Kowalski tasted it again, then pulled it into his mouth up to his fist and started pumping.
“Oh, Jesus, Stanley, not so fast. You’re gonna kill me.”
Kowalski slowed for a moment. He was enjoying this, enjoying the power he had over Vecchio, who was making the most voluptuous sounds as he slumped against the passenger door. His jacket was crumpled and his shirt was coming untucked. Kowalski had never seen him in such disarray. He was seeing Vecchio as Fraser had seen him, and Stella. Shit. Vecchio had taken the two people he cared about most in the world and he’d had his fun and he’d left them both. Kowalski used his teeth, and Vecchio jumped. His hands found Kowalski’s face.
“Don’t do that, Stanley,” he begged.
Kowalski moved his first down and let another inch slide into his mouth.
“Ah! God, Stanley,” Vecchio panted.
Why did Vecchio have to taste so good, so male? Why did his dick have to feel so hot against Kowalski’s tongue? Kowalski had intended to do this fast, with scorn. He had wanted to shame Vecchio, but it was turning him on, and he should have known it would. He was sucking Vecchio the way he would have sucked Fraser, the way Fraser had probably sucked Vecchio. It was too complicated, too much to think about while there was this demanding hot flesh in his mouth, sliding seductively between his tongue and his palette. Then Vecchio was pressing a linen handkerchief into his hand and crying his name pleadingly.
Vecchio broke and came, his voice catching on a wrenching cry. He lay panting as Kowalski released him.
“Jeez, Stanley, you’re good at that. Where’s the handkerchief?”
Kowalski handed it to him.
“You swallowed?” Vecchio asked stupidly. “Why?”
“I’m an idiot,” Kowalski said darkly. He sat back in his seat and stared out the windshield at the darkened house. “Fifty guys could have come out of there in the last 15 minutes and we’d never know,” he said. His hand strayed to his groin and rubbed once, hard.
“Hey, I know it wasn’t part of the deal,” Vecchio said with a new softness in his voice, “but I could do something for you. What do you say?” His hand moved down to run tentatively up Kowalski’s thigh.
“I’ll do it,” Kowalski said curtly, batting his hand away. Opening his fly, he took his erection in hand and yanked it roughly, pulling up his tee-shirt with his other hand.
“Come on, Stanley,” Vecchio coaxed. “Let me.”
“No,” Kowalski breathed as he began to jerk silently, pumping semen across his exposed belly. He lay panting, opening his eyes to find Vecchio staring at him. “Show’s over,” he said, moving to clean himself up with his tee-shirt.
“Take this.” Vecchio pressed the white linen into his hand again and Kowalski took it. When he was finished, he looked questioningly at his companion. “Keep it,” Vecchio said, holding up his hand. “A guy needs a handkerchief.”
They adjusted their clothes in silence.
Kowalski watched Vecchio straighten his shirt. You could hardly tell that anything had happened by looking at his face. He had put his clothes back together and composed his face. Who knew what was going on in his mind?
“So, is that what Fraser used to do for you?” Kowalski asked suddenly. “Blow you in your precious Riv?”
Vecchio turned to him in surprise. “No.” His voice was so gentle that Kowalski looked at him harder in the moonlight that washed across his face, saw the confusion and hurt. “No, we never did that. Listen, Stanley, whatever Fraser and I had, it’s over. If you’ve still got a thing with him, you don’t have to be threatened by me.” Vecchio smiled ruefully and hung his head. “I left him, and he made his decision when he went off with you. I don’t like it, but I’m not gonna—”
“That’s just it.” Kowalski’s voice was hoarse, strained.
“What’s just what?”
“All those nights in the tent, in the freezing cold, and we never— I didn’t— I turned him down.”
“Oh, man. Stanley.” Vecchio shook his head. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You’re glad. Don’t try to hide it.”
“I don’t know what I am,” Vecchio said moodily. “Don’t put words in my mouth. And don’t fucking blame me if you were too dumb to—”
“I’ll drive you back to your car.” The GTO started noisily.
“Hey, I didn’t mean that. You wanna get a drink? I’ll buy.”
“I had a drink,” Kowalski said meanly.
“Fuck,” Vecchio said, stung. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“I’ll take you back to your car, Vecchio, and you’re gonna get out of my car and you’re not gonna say another word to me on the way, you got it?”
“Yeah,” Vecchio said deliberately, “I got it.”
They rode in silence the rest of the way.
So, here's my contribution to the one-night stand challenge.
It Happened One Night
by Muriel Perun
Ray Vecchio shifted uneasily in his seat. “Will you get that greasy shit outta here?” he said petulantly.
Ray Kowalski glanced at the crumpled fast food bags on the floor. “What do you care? It ain’t your car.”
“It stinks. It was bad enough eating that crap without smelling it the rest of the night.”
“Nobody forced it down your throat. And, hey, if you don’t like it, why don’t you go throw it out? Why are you asking me?”
Vecchio grinned. “It ain’t my car. I don’t wanna presume.”
“Fuck you, Vecchio.”
“Original.” Vecchio picked up the binoculars and looked carefully around the entrance to the house they were watching, which was bathed in moonlight. “I swear he ain’t in there. I think we got a bum tip.”
Kowalski shifted in his seat. “You wanna go?”
Vecchio glanced at him sharply. “Not yet. It’s only 1:00 a.m. What’s your hurry, you got a date?”
“I wanna get home.”
“What for? You got someone waiting?”
“Maybe. I got things to do.”
Vecchio snorted. “Yeah, you got a date with your right hand.”
Kowalski lifted his chin defiantly. “So what if I do? It was whacked to watch those porno movies just before a stakeout.”
“Yeah, it was,” Vecchio said quietly.
“‘Let’s see what the guy’s product is before we go after him,’ you said,” Kowalski said mockingly. “‘It’ll help us understand what makes him tick.’ Yeah, bullshit. All it did was give me a—”
“Don’t go there, Kowalski,” Vecchio said brusquely. “Believe me, I don’t wanna know what it gave you.”
“That’s too bad, Vecchio, ‘cause I thought maybe we could do something about it.”
Vecchio looked at him and laughed. “You’re crazy. Or you’re yanking my chain. Or—” He laughed again suddenly.
“What?” Kowalski asked, irritated.
“Hey, I get it now. I get the GTO and the spiked hair and everything.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, you’re still in high school.”
Kowalski grinned. “You think you’re so goddamn smart, Vecchio, but you just told me something about you in high school. Something real interesting.”
“Oh, get stuffed, Stanley. You’re so full of shit.” Vecchio sounded seriously pissed, and Kowalski smiled. “You want to sit in the car and beat off, and when Mr. Porno comes out of his house, we’ll be sitting here holding our dicks, and he’ll feel right at home.”
“I’m right, huh?”
Vecchio was silent, looking through the binoculars again. “I say we leave,” he said, his jaw set. “No one’s gonna come out of that house tonight.”
“Truth or dare,” Kowalski said suddenly.
Vecchio’s eyes got wide. “You’re crazy.”
“Come on, Vecchio. I’m still in high school, remember? Truth or dare?”
“Neither.”
“You scared? You scared of what I might ask you?”
Vecchio leaned across the seat. “I ain’t scared of you or anything you could do. Get that in your head right now.”
“Truth or dare?” Kowalski repeated stubbornly.
“Oh, fuck. Truth.” Vecchio stared him down like a hawk. “Ask a good one ‘cause you’re only getting one chance.”
Kowalski swallowed hard. “Did you ever do it with Fraser?”
Vecchio’s mouth went slack and the color drained from his face. “Did I ever… I thought you were gonna ask… That ain’t fair!”
“I asked a question,” Kowalski said, leaning forward. “That’s how the game is played. I asked it, you answer it.”
“Yeah.” A long silence stretched out.
“Are you agreeing with me or is that your answer?”
“Yeah, I did it with Fraser, okay? So help me, Stanley, if you tell one—”
“I knew it! How many times?” In his excitement, Kowalski slid across the seat towards him.
“One question, one answer,” said Vecchio, folding his arms. “Your turn.”
“How many times?” Kowalski asked again.
“I don’t know,” Vecchio said carefully. “Did I count?” Kowalski looked down at the seat. “Okay, I get a question,” Vecchio continued. “Did you ever do it with Fraser?”
“Original,” Kowalski said to the seat. “Dare.”
“Answer it, Stanley.” Vecchio sounded threatening.
“I’m not picking truth. Give me a dare.”
“A dare? What kind of—” Vecchio smiled slowly. “You sure you don’t want truth? You might not like my dare.”
“Go for it.”
“Okay. I dare you to give me a blow job. Now, you wanna go back to truth?” Kowalski moved closer and suddenly Vecchio backed up against the door. “What are you doing?”
“You want your blow job or not?” He looked into Vecchio’s face, his eyes challenging, his mouth in a smug twist.
Vecchio relaxed against him. “Yeah, I want it. Now would be good.”
“You’re a pig, Vecchio.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who wanted to play this stupid game.”
Kowalski got right in his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll do it. Pull it out.”
Vecchio took Kowalski by the chin and pushed his face away. “You.”
Kowalski’s fingers brushed Vecchio’s crotch, finding the zipper and quickly releasing it. “Briefs,” he said. “I took you for a boxer kind of guy.”
“Cut the commentary on my shorts,” Vecchio said curtly. “Just do it.”
“You like to give orders, don’t you, Vecchio?” Kowalski was pumping him up now, and Vecchio’s breath came short. “But I got your life in my hands, don’t I?"
“When are you gonna get it in your mouth and stop talking?”
“Pig.” Kowalski bent to taste it.
Vecchio swore.
“How long’s it been, Vecchio?” Kowalski asked mockingly.
“Too long,” Vecchio gasped. “It’s always too long between blow jobs.”
Kowalski tasted it again, then pulled it into his mouth up to his fist and started pumping.
“Oh, Jesus, Stanley, not so fast. You’re gonna kill me.”
Kowalski slowed for a moment. He was enjoying this, enjoying the power he had over Vecchio, who was making the most voluptuous sounds as he slumped against the passenger door. His jacket was crumpled and his shirt was coming untucked. Kowalski had never seen him in such disarray. He was seeing Vecchio as Fraser had seen him, and Stella. Shit. Vecchio had taken the two people he cared about most in the world and he’d had his fun and he’d left them both. Kowalski used his teeth, and Vecchio jumped. His hands found Kowalski’s face.
“Don’t do that, Stanley,” he begged.
Kowalski moved his first down and let another inch slide into his mouth.
“Ah! God, Stanley,” Vecchio panted.
Why did Vecchio have to taste so good, so male? Why did his dick have to feel so hot against Kowalski’s tongue? Kowalski had intended to do this fast, with scorn. He had wanted to shame Vecchio, but it was turning him on, and he should have known it would. He was sucking Vecchio the way he would have sucked Fraser, the way Fraser had probably sucked Vecchio. It was too complicated, too much to think about while there was this demanding hot flesh in his mouth, sliding seductively between his tongue and his palette. Then Vecchio was pressing a linen handkerchief into his hand and crying his name pleadingly.
Vecchio broke and came, his voice catching on a wrenching cry. He lay panting as Kowalski released him.
“Jeez, Stanley, you’re good at that. Where’s the handkerchief?”
Kowalski handed it to him.
“You swallowed?” Vecchio asked stupidly. “Why?”
“I’m an idiot,” Kowalski said darkly. He sat back in his seat and stared out the windshield at the darkened house. “Fifty guys could have come out of there in the last 15 minutes and we’d never know,” he said. His hand strayed to his groin and rubbed once, hard.
“Hey, I know it wasn’t part of the deal,” Vecchio said with a new softness in his voice, “but I could do something for you. What do you say?” His hand moved down to run tentatively up Kowalski’s thigh.
“I’ll do it,” Kowalski said curtly, batting his hand away. Opening his fly, he took his erection in hand and yanked it roughly, pulling up his tee-shirt with his other hand.
“Come on, Stanley,” Vecchio coaxed. “Let me.”
“No,” Kowalski breathed as he began to jerk silently, pumping semen across his exposed belly. He lay panting, opening his eyes to find Vecchio staring at him. “Show’s over,” he said, moving to clean himself up with his tee-shirt.
“Take this.” Vecchio pressed the white linen into his hand again and Kowalski took it. When he was finished, he looked questioningly at his companion. “Keep it,” Vecchio said, holding up his hand. “A guy needs a handkerchief.”
They adjusted their clothes in silence.
Kowalski watched Vecchio straighten his shirt. You could hardly tell that anything had happened by looking at his face. He had put his clothes back together and composed his face. Who knew what was going on in his mind?
“So, is that what Fraser used to do for you?” Kowalski asked suddenly. “Blow you in your precious Riv?”
Vecchio turned to him in surprise. “No.” His voice was so gentle that Kowalski looked at him harder in the moonlight that washed across his face, saw the confusion and hurt. “No, we never did that. Listen, Stanley, whatever Fraser and I had, it’s over. If you’ve still got a thing with him, you don’t have to be threatened by me.” Vecchio smiled ruefully and hung his head. “I left him, and he made his decision when he went off with you. I don’t like it, but I’m not gonna—”
“That’s just it.” Kowalski’s voice was hoarse, strained.
“What’s just what?”
“All those nights in the tent, in the freezing cold, and we never— I didn’t— I turned him down.”
“Oh, man. Stanley.” Vecchio shook his head. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You’re glad. Don’t try to hide it.”
“I don’t know what I am,” Vecchio said moodily. “Don’t put words in my mouth. And don’t fucking blame me if you were too dumb to—”
“I’ll drive you back to your car.” The GTO started noisily.
“Hey, I didn’t mean that. You wanna get a drink? I’ll buy.”
“I had a drink,” Kowalski said meanly.
“Fuck,” Vecchio said, stung. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“I’ll take you back to your car, Vecchio, and you’re gonna get out of my car and you’re not gonna say another word to me on the way, you got it?”
“Yeah,” Vecchio said deliberately, “I got it.”
They rode in silence the rest of the way.
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Date: 2004-01-15 10:23 pm (UTC)::dissolves into a puddle of squidge::
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Date: 2004-01-15 10:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 11:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 11:48 pm (UTC)Well, yeah, I'd say we are!
Wow! I really liked this.
And I liked yours. I adore stories written from Vecchio's POV. Strange, but your story is also a lot like a Fraser/Vecchio story I wrote for a zine called "Hawk and Handsaw" that's coming out at Escapade. Actually, it was the first bit of DS fic I ever wrote, and I've been saving it up for this zine.
I'm going to go friend you in hopes of seeing the rest of this lovely thing!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-16 12:59 am (UTC)Eee! The pressure. ;)
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Date: 2004-01-16 01:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-16 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-16 03:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-16 05:20 pm (UTC)Thank you! I think I'm finally getting his voice in my head. It took a while. I may be writing more Kowalski soon.
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Date: 2004-01-16 05:41 am (UTC)Great job!
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Date: 2004-01-16 05:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-16 05:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-16 05:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-17 07:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-17 11:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-17 07:05 pm (UTC)There needs to be more Ray/Ray in the world, for sure. There are some really good ones out there, like Fuzzicat's "Warmth of Spring" and "Heat of Summer," plus lots of Ray/Ray that has been posted here. Someone should make a list one of these days.
My second Ray/Ray story
Date: 2004-01-17 12:02 pm (UTC)Very nice? Very believable.
~ Stormheller
Re: My second Ray/Ray story
Date: 2004-01-17 07:07 pm (UTC)It just occurred to me that last year at Escapade I promised to send you some Giles/Spike, and I forgot all about it. I'd better do it before the next Escapade rolls around (next month). Seriously, are you still interested?
Giles/Spike
Date: 2004-01-17 09:59 pm (UTC)Thanks,
~ S.
(Oh, and I noticed I put a question mark after "Very nice" in my previous comment. That should have been an exclamation mark. I'm really very sure you're story was very nice. Honest.)
Re: Giles/Spike
Date: 2004-01-18 06:26 pm (UTC)I'm working on a couple of zines, too. See you at Escapade!