Refusal Challenge by pixiecatfish

[pixiecatfish.livejournal.com]

Title: The Perfect Setup
Author: pixiecatfish
Pairing: Ray/Ray
Rating: R
Word Count:825



Ray Kowalski hummed happily as he threw together a tossed salad. Vecchio would be here soon, and they would order some pizza to go with the salad, pop open a couple of ice-cold beers and watch a baseball game. After the game, they would move to the bedroom and indulge in some physical activity themselves. Yup, a perfect evening lay ahead.

In fact, he and Vecchio had worked out the perfect situation. They were what some people would crudely call “fuck buddies.” But he just thought they were smart.

They had companionship- someone to talk to, hang out with, bitch about the job with, laugh with, have fun with. And best of all, it came with extra-naked fun. And no messy strings attached.

And if Kowalski sometimes had brief, longing thoughts about strings, they could be quickly dealt with and pushed aside. He had a great thing going, one of the best things of his life, and he was not going to mess it up.

The door to the apartment opened and then slammed closed, and Vecchio stalked into the apartment. He walked into the kitchen and gave Kowalski a strange look, then glared at him.

Kowalski forced back a sigh. Great. Vecchio in mood was not what he wanted tonight. Maybe he could talk him out of it. “Something bugging you, Vecchio?”

Vecchio glared at him again. “You really are a detective.” He moved to the fridge.

“Do you want to talk about it,” Kowalski asked.

“No! I do not want to talk about it,” Vecchio snapped. He slammed the refrigerator door closed and opened the utensil drawer, looking for the bottle opener.

“Are you sure? It might make you feel better.”

Vecchio opened his beer, then threw the bottle opener in the drawer and slammed the door closed. “Fine! You really want to know what’s bothering me?”

Suddenly Ray didn’t, but he nodded.

Vecchio took a long drink of beer, then placed the bottle on the counter. “I’m in love with you, all right?”

Kowalski’s mouth dropped open, and he felt his heart fall somewhere to the vicinity of his feet. “You- what?”

“I love you. But that’s not my fault, okay? It’s yours.”

Kowalski could find no answer to that, so he just looked at Vecchio, wide-eyed.

“I mean, you like the Cubs as much as I do, you like classic cars as much as I do- sure the wrong car, but what the hell. You know when something is bugging me and when to leave me alone and when to make me talk about it. Like now.” And he glared at Ray again.

Kowalski almost laughed, but he was having enough trouble even breathing as it was.

Vecchio continued his litany. “You make me breakfast when I stay overnight, you take care of me when I have a headache. You look really great in those stupid ugly jeans and t-shirts you always wear, you’re a great dancer… How in the hell am I supposed to fight against all that?”

Kowalski picked up Ray’s beer and finished it in two swallows.

Vecchio was staring at him, and he looked angry, and lost, and like he was expecting to be kicked out of the apartment on his ass.

Kowalski smiled at him. “I love you, too.”

A look of surprise crossed Vecchio’s face, then he shook his head and turned away. “You don’t have to…”

“Have to what?” Ray laughed. “You think I’d make this up?” He crossed the room to Ray’s side, and Vecchio turned to face him again. “I love you,” Kowalski repeated.

He grinned at Vecchio. “And It’s your fault. You look so damn sexy in those ridiculously expensive suits you wear, you always smell really great, you take me to Cubs games, you’re a really good cook, you let me take charge of the remote control, you celebrate Polish holidays with me, you think that what I think and say is important-”

“It is,” Vecchio interrupted softly.

“You see,” Kowalski smiled. “You think I don’t play fair? You’re a bigger cheater than I am, Vecchio.”

Vecchio laughed, then wrapped his arms around Kowalski’s waist and buried his face in his shoulder. “Oh God, we’re really in trouble here.”

“Big trouble,” Kowalski agreed.

“I love you,” Vecchio said, and he sounded happy and scared and brave.

“Yeah,” Kowalski said, and he laughed again. “What a world, huh? I love you, too.”

“I don’t want to watch the Cubs game anymore, Stanley,” Ray whispered. And oh, God, when Vecchio said his name like that, it made him want to rip that Italian suit right off him, throw him to the floor, and fuck him right through the linoleum.

He managed a shaky smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think we ought to celebrate.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Suddenly, Kowalski’s t-shirt was tugged from his waistband, pulled over his head, and thrown across the kitchen.

“You’re a detective, you figure it out.”