Estrella. Okay, so the first time around, when you told me what you were thinking about for this fic, my only response was pretty much, "Nrrrgh." I'm gonna try to be slightly more coherent.
Ray's barely paying attention though, just letting the sound of Kowalski's voice wash over him as he narrows his eyes, watching Kowalski, who's still sitting on that stupid crate, drying his hair.
God. Why is the image of Kowalski all hunched over, grumpily scrubbing his hair, such a turn-on? It shouldn't be, but it is, and it's increased ten-fold by Vecchio watching him like that.
Kowalski's jeans are wet and sticking to his skinny legs, and his shirt is lying in a heap on the floor. His skin is pale and looks soft from where Ray is standing, and Ray curls his hands into fists to keep from going over there and touching him - not knowing why the fuck he even wants to.
Nrrrgh. Um. *breathes* WHY IS THAT SO HOT??? Fucking skinny-ass Kowalski, but my GOD, that wet, pale skin all exposed, and his skinny little legs, and man - again, with Vecchio watching him is so, so freaking hot - and the clenched fists? Yeah. That's - uh. Nrrrgh.
Just because he knows Kowalski: how Kowalski is, knows about the things Kowalski's done, doesn't necessarily mean Ray wants any part of that. Ray heard what everyone said when Kowalski stayed up in Canada with Fraser, and he heard them again when Kowalski came back. Ray had pretty much heard enough.
I love that right there a whole fucking lot. I mean, I love the physical nature of the rest of the fic, which I expound upon at length below, but man - this, I think, is a very big part of why I love Kowalski and Vecchio together so damn much - this knowing each other, just enough. Not a Deep True Love Understanding - more, looking at each other with narrowed eyes, and thinking, "I know your game. I know everything about your game." And what you put here - the tiny reference to Kowalski in Canada, and Kowalski coming back - speaks volumes without you ever having to put it into specific words. I love it.
Kowalski is hunched over, still drying that stupid dyed blond mop of his, and Ray closes his eyes and can see the smooth bend of Kowalski's spine - the faint lines of his ribs and the muscles in his back. Kowalski's jeans are open - just the top button popped - but that's enough that Ray can see the grey elastic of Kowalski's briefs, and he wonders if Kowalski's skin would be cold if he touched it.
Ooooh, my dear god. Just that one. Top. Button. Opened. It's - it's that, plus his spine, his ribs, the grey elastic of his briefs - it's so fucking hot, and I, for one, do not fucking blame Vecchio for what happened next one fucking bit.
And Ray is pushing him - pushing his back against the wall, filling his hands with that cold, damp skin. Kowalski isn't moving under him - he's perfectly fucking still. His lips are cold, but Ray won't stop - he just keeps going - and finally Kowalski opens his mouth and all Ray can feel is heat.
Oh god. I love Kowalski letting Vecchio push him around. I'm a HUGE BIG FAN of Kowalski getting off on being pushed around. I love that Vecchio can't stop - cannot stop - and the heat when he finally gets in and - yeah. Uh. Guh.
All he wants is to keep feeling Kowalski's cold, damp skin, pressing against him, chilling him through the thin silk of his shirt. Ray reaches up and slides his fingers into Kowalski's hair and he can feel water squeeze out and run down his fingers as he tightens his grip and tilts Kowalski's head.
See, this is what I was talking about - the physical nature of the story, where reading it makes you feel it - god, the water seeping through Vecchio's silk shirt, the water from Kowalski's hair running down his fingers, the whole damn thing, dear lord. You just - you HAVE to love Ray and Ray, the fucking slutty boys that they are. They? Are slutty boys with heart, and you capture it perfectly here.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2004-11-28 07:44 am (UTC)Ray's barely paying attention though, just letting the sound of Kowalski's voice wash over him as he narrows his eyes, watching Kowalski, who's still sitting on that stupid crate, drying his hair.
God. Why is the image of Kowalski all hunched over, grumpily scrubbing his hair, such a turn-on? It shouldn't be, but it is, and it's increased ten-fold by Vecchio watching him like that.
Kowalski's jeans are wet and sticking to his skinny legs, and his shirt is lying in a heap on the floor. His skin is pale and looks soft from where Ray is standing, and Ray curls his hands into fists to keep from going over there and touching him - not knowing why the fuck he even wants to.
Nrrrgh. Um. *breathes* WHY IS THAT SO HOT??? Fucking skinny-ass Kowalski, but my GOD, that wet, pale skin all exposed, and his skinny little legs, and man - again, with Vecchio watching him is so, so freaking hot - and the clenched fists? Yeah. That's - uh. Nrrrgh.
Just because he knows Kowalski: how Kowalski is, knows about the things Kowalski's done, doesn't necessarily mean Ray wants any part of that. Ray heard what everyone said when Kowalski stayed up in Canada with Fraser, and he heard them again when Kowalski came back. Ray had pretty much heard enough.
I love that right there a whole fucking lot. I mean, I love the physical nature of the rest of the fic, which I expound upon at length below, but man - this, I think, is a very big part of why I love Kowalski and Vecchio together so damn much - this knowing each other, just enough. Not a Deep True Love Understanding - more, looking at each other with narrowed eyes, and thinking, "I know your game. I know everything about your game." And what you put here - the tiny reference to Kowalski in Canada, and Kowalski coming back - speaks volumes without you ever having to put it into specific words. I love it.
Kowalski is hunched over, still drying that stupid dyed blond mop of his, and Ray closes his eyes and can see the smooth bend of Kowalski's spine - the faint lines of his ribs and the muscles in his back. Kowalski's jeans are open - just the top button popped - but that's enough that Ray can see the grey elastic of Kowalski's briefs, and he wonders if Kowalski's skin would be cold if he touched it.
Ooooh, my dear god. Just that one. Top. Button. Opened. It's - it's that, plus his spine, his ribs, the grey elastic of his briefs - it's so fucking hot, and I, for one, do not fucking blame Vecchio for what happened next one fucking bit.
And Ray is pushing him - pushing his back against the wall, filling his hands with that cold, damp skin. Kowalski isn't moving under him - he's perfectly fucking still. His lips are cold, but Ray won't stop - he just keeps going - and finally Kowalski opens his mouth and all Ray can feel is heat.
Oh god. I love Kowalski letting Vecchio push him around. I'm a HUGE BIG FAN of Kowalski getting off on being pushed around. I love that Vecchio can't stop - cannot stop - and the heat when he finally gets in and - yeah. Uh. Guh.
All he wants is to keep feeling Kowalski's cold, damp skin, pressing against him, chilling him through the thin silk of his shirt. Ray reaches up and slides his fingers into Kowalski's hair and he can feel water squeeze out and run down his fingers as he tightens his grip and tilts Kowalski's head.
See, this is what I was talking about - the physical nature of the story, where reading it makes you feel it - god, the water seeping through Vecchio's silk shirt, the water from Kowalski's hair running down his fingers, the whole damn thing, dear lord. You just - you HAVE to love Ray and Ray, the fucking slutty boys that they are. They? Are slutty boys with heart, and you capture it perfectly here.
*loves on you*