Disclaimer: No disclaimers. Why would anyone want to come after me for this?

Author's Notes: When I first started writing in this fandom, I could never see Vecchio and Kowalski together. Thanks goes to all the other Vecchio/Kowalski stories on this archive that made me see the pairing in a new light.

Story Notes: No spoilers, since this is Post-COTW AU that doesn't really refer to anything in the episodes. Okay.maybe a very mild spoiler for 'The Duel', but you'll miss it if you blink.

Ray Kowalski heard a knock at his apartment door and took one last look in the mirror, smiling at his reflection. It'd been a long time since he'd had these threads out of his closet. Good to surprise his partner, the man who thought Ray didn't own a single stitch of decent clothing.

Ray spent a lot of time surprising his partner lately, but he also spent a lot of time being surprised. In the 5 months since Lt. Welsh had paired them up, they'd worked themselves into a well-oiled machine. They saw things differently, attacked things differently, but in a way that complemented each other.

Set 'em up and knock 'em down. As good as it had ever been.

The initial irritation...well, let's be honest and call it near-hostility...they'd both felt at their first meeting had everything to do with the situation and very little to do with the men involved. At least it had very little to do with the men that were still in Chicago. It probably had a whole lot to do with the man who'd gone back to Canada, but Ray shook that thought off like a sad dream.

He snickered when he heard a second knock at the door. And he thought he was bad at waiting.

Ray's partner stood outside the apartment door waiting. He was sure the skinny blonde was checking himself out in the mirror, waiting to answer the door to cause maximum irritation. Not only that, but Ray's partner knew that Ray wouldn't be properly dressed for the occasion. Man probably didn't own a suit other than his dress uniform.

Still, the man waiting at the door smiled at the thought and shook his head. The minute they'd started doing real police work together their partnership had clicked. Ray would zig, he'd zag, and they'd come together with some amazing arrests. What's more, they had fun doing it. Ribbing and punching and teasing like they'd been best friends all their lives. It helped take the sting out of the loss of the best friend they'd both had for years.

No one had been more surprised at the easy way they had with each other now, even when they got each other's back up, which still happened fairly often. Sometimes they both just got passionate about something. It felt good to yell and slam things every once in a while.

Ray's partner pounded on the door one more time. "Hey! You gonna let me in? We're gonna be late for our reservation."

When the door to the apartment opened, Ray Vecchio took a step back and stood speechless for a moment. Ray Kowalski leaned against the doorjamb with a smug look on his face.

"Wow." Vecchio tried to keep his face blank, but he wasn't able to. He'd never seen his partner in anything but faded jeans, t-shirts, and various and sundry jackets from leather to nylon.

"That all you got to say?" Kowalski asked the question as he motioned his partner into his apartment.

"Nice suit." Vecchio wanted to reach out and touch the fabric that looked to him like a wool/silk blend. Light gray pants and jacket, royal blue knit shirt stretched across a leanly muscled chest. The color combination brought out the other man's eyes wonderfully, made his blond hair look brighter. The fit was good enough that Vecchio was sure it had been tailored, even if it hadn't been cut to hide a shoulder rig. He wondered if it was a designer label. Most people didn't bother to tailor something off the rack from Marshall Fields.

"That's better," Kowalski acknowledged. "You weren't expecting me to be dressed, were you? Thought you'd show up and have to yell at me till I was dressed right."

Ray Vecchio wanted to lie and tell him 'no', but he knew he wouldn't be able to get away with it. The blond detective had an uncanny ability to tell when anyone was lying. All lying would accomplish is starting a fight and Ray didn't want to fight. "Well, I wasn't expecting such quality duds."

Vecchio inwardly braced for an onslaught of invective. They habitually chided each other about their fashion sense, and occasionally it crossed the line to a real argument.

Tonight, however, Kowalski smiled slyly, taking in his partner's mink-colored Armani suit and dark green, lightweight turtleneck. "Just because I don't wear them everyday doesn't mean I don't have nice clothes. Doesn't even mean I don't like to wear them sometimes. And you did say we were going to the Drake."

"Yeah, well, come on before they give our table away."

The warm spring weather made an overcoat unnecessary, so the men set out for the hotel where their dinner reservations were.

Since Vecchio had extended the invitation, he'd come to pick up Kowalski and he drove the Riv. As was his habit since Fraser had cross-dressed for that girl's school case, he unlocked the passenger door and opened it for his companion.

"Gee, Vecchio, you're a gentleman. You do that for all your dates?" Kowalski teased.

Vecchio should have known he wouldn't get through this without some lip from the blond. "Well, you know, Stanley. It's been a long time since I've been out with anyone. I'd hate to get out of practice. Now be a good date and get in the car."

Kowalski didn't object out loud to Vecchio calling him Stanley and that confused Vecchio. Normally he would have at least heard 'don't call me Stanley' from the Polish detective.

"Yes, Raymond." Okay, so he didn't exactly get away with it. Vecchio hated being called Raymond. Everyone called him Ray except his mother. To her he was Raimondo. But no one called him Raymond.

Stanley got into the car, a smug look on his face. Ray just slammed the car door and let the walk to the driver's side take his irritation away. They were playing, after all. Just playing.

The Riviera filled with the comfortable silence that usually hung around them when they weren't talking about a case. Conversation didn't seem necessary at the moment, so they allowed each other time with his own thoughts.

Before long, the classic Buick pulled up to the valet parking station at the Drake Hotel.

"You're trusting your baby to valet parking?"

Vecchio smiled at the young man who took his keys in exchange for a claim ticket. "I know for a fact this gentleman has an appreciation for fine automobiles. Right, Rusty?"

"You bet, Detective Ray. I'll take good care of 'er while you're eating."

Ray Kowalski walked shoulder to shoulder with his partner into the Drake. "What was that about?"

"Rusty details my car once a month. I think he loves the Riv almost as much as I do. You should let him have a crack at the Goat. He does good work."

In the elevator to the restaurant, Kowalski stood slightly behind Vecchio so he could have to opportunity to study the Italian detective a little. Even though the brown Armani was tailored to hide his shoulder holster, the suit flattered the man's slim, tall form. Flecks of gray appeared here and there among the shorn brown hair on the back and sides of his head. Ray Kowalski caught himself wondering if the stubble was long enough to be soft yet as the elevator doors opened onto the lobby of the restaurant.

The pair of detectives were seated at a window with a view of Lake Michigan. Ray Vecchio rejected the wine list and ordered a bottle of a hearty Zinfandel, which the sommelier brought along with two balloon glasses.

"Springing for a bottle of wine? You really do know how to treat a date."

Vecchio chuckled at his partner as the wine steward poured their wine. "I thought it would be nice to celebrate cracking our first big case together."

"We couldn't have done it at Scarpetta's?"

For a minute, Vecchio's face went dark. Then Kowalski remembered why the Italian hadn't been back to Pat Scarpetta's place in a long time. The last visit had ended with the deaths of Louis Gardino and, a few days later, Irene Zuko.

"Shit. I'm sorry. Forget I mentioned it."

"It's okay. Water under the bridge, Stanley. I just don't like the bad memories, so I stay away."

Both detectives sipped their wine and looked out at the lights on the lake, not knowing what else to do to get past the awkward moment.

After the awkwardness passed, Ray Vecchio looked over the candlelit table at his partner. He'd never seen Kowalski so relaxed, had never seen the blond man look so attractive or at ease. The wistful look on the blond man's face made Vecchio's throat tighten a little. Jesus, he was beautiful.

What if this really was a date, he thought to himself? Come on, Vecchio, you never took Fraser to a place like this for solving a case. What's going on in that brain of yours?

Vecchio lifted his glass of wine and proposed a toast. "To a successful partnership."

"Cheers." Kowalski touched his glass lightly to his partner's, then sipped the rich wine. "You surprised? That it's successful, I mean."

Blunt as ever, but with an edge of uncertainty he might not have caught a few months ago. Green eyes sparkled at Kowalski over the intimate little table.

"Yeah. I am surprised. I thought I was going to kill you the first time we met. But the whole thing with Muldoon was top notch. And of course I read the files of the cases you worked with Benny while I was in Vegas."

"And?"

"You always fish for compliments, Stanley?" Challenge. What's he gonna do about the Stanley now?

"How was I supposed to know what you were going to say was a compliment, Raymond?" No touch of rancor in his voice. Just playfulness. This Ray Kowalski was someone Raymond Vecchio could get used to. The hard edges softened by good wine and a little humor. The flicker from the candle on the table wasn't doing horrible things to his eyes, either. Smile. Turn on the Vecchio charm. May not do anything, but never hurts to try.

The two men chatted about the case, their thoughts on the final outcome, masterfully played and won by Assistant States Attorney Stella Kowalski.

"The Stella really pulled it off."

"She had a lot of help from us. I think you impressed her with your part in this." Okay, Vecchio, time to feel him out about his ex-wife.

Kowalski shrugged. "If she is, she didn't mention it. But then, we don't talk much. The stalking bit really put her off the old Raymeister."

"She's a beautiful woman and I couldn't blame you for wanting her back."

"Thing of it is I don't want her back, not anymore. I think that pisses her off more than anything. Right after the divorce, I was still her lapdog. Until Fraser came along."

Vecchio's ears perked up at that. What did Fraser do to turn Stanley around?

"It was good to have a friend; one that I didn't have to be someone else with. He accepted me for what I am. He didn't try to change me."

"Yeah. I know what you mean. He saw things that no one else knew about me and accepted it as part of the package of me."

The two Rays locked gazes for a moment and a flash of something passed between them. The tension dissipated as the waiter brought their dinners. Conversation lapsed while the men tucked into their steaks, but resumed once they'd put away about half their dinners.

Kowalski decided that picking up where they left off would be a good idea. They'd talked about his ex and he'd gotten the vague feeling he was being questioned. Only fair that Vecchio gave up a little, too.

"So. What about your ex? I see her around sometimes, but you don't talk at all, do you?"

"Nah. Not since I almost went down for the Carver thing. For us, when it was over, it was over. There wasn't anything left."

"I'm sorry, man."

Ray Kowalski saw a sad light appear in the other detective's eyes. It made him sort of sorry he'd asked.

"I'm not. As much as I tried to make it work, and as much as Ma wanted it, Ange and me were just wrong. We could be civil, we cared, but there was no way I could love her like she deserved."

Their eyes met for a moment, and Kowalski thought he saw something in Vecchio's eyes; a secret he was itching to share. The reason he couldn't love Angie like she deserved.

"But that's all history, right, man?"

Just like that, the something was gone.

"Right." Kowalski let the question forming in his mind show in his eyes. What do you mean, Vecchio? What are you trying to tell me?

Vecchio picked up the bottle of zinfandel and poured his partner another glass. He poured a half a glass for himself and set the bottle down.

"Only half a glass, Vecchio? You wimping out on me? Or you just trying to get me drunk?" Romantic setting, Vecchio? Fine food and wine and candlelight? Trying to seduce me? Well, pal, I think it may be working.

"I'm driving. You aren't. You should enjoy yourself."

"You know, a girl could get used to this." Kowalski's eyes sparkled with that teasing light again as he peered over the rim of his wine glass.

"Yeah. But you're not a girl."

"That a problem?" Go ahead, Vecchio. Make something of it.

"Nope." Ray kept his face as blank as possible. Was Stanley reading his mind? Was he really being obvious? Okay, reel it in, Raimondo. If you're going to come on to your partner, the Drake is not the place to do it.

Vecchio swallowed hard and covered with, "I had a woman for a partner once and I didn't like it. She thought she had to be a bitch to make it."

"Yeah. I know the type." Vecchio knew the other Ray referred to The Stella.

"Intimately," they said in unison and laughed. Suddenly the tension dissipated and they both relaxed again.

The waiter offered dessert, but neither detective had room, so Vecchio settled up the bill and they went downstairs to collect the Riv.

Rusty tossed the keys to Detective Vecchio, who plucked them out of the air without flinching. While his partner was distracted, Kowalski pulled his wallet out and drew out a couple of bills.

"What are you doing?"

"Paying for parking, 'Detective Ray'. The least I can do since you sprang for dinner."

"C'mon, man, you don't have to do that. My treat, remember?"

"Wouldn't want you to think I'm a cheap date. Right, Rusty?"

"No sir!" Rusty took the bills from Kowalski, noticing the hefty tip that had been included. Rusty grinned as he gave the other detective a card for his detailing business. "I hear you got a sweet GTO. You should let me work on it for you. You bring it in the next time I work on the Riv and I'll give you guys a package deal."

Vecchio slapped the kid on the back and gave him a friendly shake. "Way to work the business, kid. I'll try to talk him into it for our next appointment."

Both Rays got into the car and waved to the young entrepreneur as they pulled away. Sitting on opposite sides of the Riviera's wide interior, they each wondered silently if Rusty thought they were more than cop partners. As the ride continued, both of them silently wondered what exactly that meant.

When they pulled up in front of Kowalski's apartment building after a quiet ride, Vecchio shut off the ignition. He wasn't ready to end the evening. It had been a very long time indeed that he'd felt so comfortable, so happily relaxed yet charged with a certain energy at the end of a day. Maybe the time had arrived for him to take a chance. Or maybe his dick just expected him to try and get laid after a fancy dinner.

"Stan -"

"You wanna come up for a little while, Ray? I got a good bottle of single malt. We could celebrate a little more. I think we deserve it after this one."

Ray? He called me Ray? And he still hasn't bitched about me calling him Stanley.

"Yeah. I could go for a drink."

"Good. Come on up."

Vecchio followed his blond partner up the stairs to his apartment, admiring the cut of his jacket all the way up. Unfortunately, the long line of the garment made it impossible for Vecchio to see anything really good.

"Welcome to my humble abode. Make yourself comfortable whilst I pour us some drinks." Kowalski said this while he breezed into the apartment and slid the suit coat down his arms. He hung the jacket on the back of a chair and proceeded to the kitchen.

Vecchio took a leisurely look around the place for the first time. The bicycle hanging on the wall. The string of chili lights. The terrarium for his turtle. The general clutter that made the place look lived in.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Kowalski pulled two Old Fashioned glasses out, nearly dropping them because his palms were sweaty with anticipation. He looked in the cabinet above the stove to find the scotch when something else caught his eye.

"Hey, I forgot I had this. How about armagnac instead?" he called to his partner.

Vecchio looked up guiltily from scanning the pile of mail on the table. "Brandy? You keep surprising me, Kowalski."

Kowalski snickered as he pulled snifters out of the cabinet and pulled the cork on the brandy. "I keep telling you, just because most of the time it's beer and pizza and jeans and leather jackets doesn't mean I don't have an appreciation for the finer things in life." Like fine Italians in Armani suits. He shivered at the thought.

He couldn't remember when he'd started noticing the drape of Vecchio's suits, or which ones complemented his coloring best, or how great his neck looked when he wore turtlenecks. All of a sudden Ray had just started thinking to himself how handsome his partner was, how much fun they had antagonizing each other, how hot he might look wearing nothing but a smile.

Kowalski shook that thought off and grinned to himself. If dinner was any indication of Vecchio's state of mind, he might just get to find out about that last one.

Out by the table, Ray Vecchio couldn't deny his curiosity any longer. With practiced non-chalance, he flipped over the collar of Kowalski's suit jacket and noticed the label inside read Prada. Not quite his own taste, but classy nonetheless. Vecchio had to admit, there were times when Stanley looked like he stepped off the cover of 'Details'. He did have style, even if most of the time it wasn't Ray's idea of style.

"Label queen."

The soft voice next to his ear startled Vecchio. A snifter of brandy was being offered to him and the offerer grinned invitingly.

"What did you call me?" Kowalski's usual dig with regard to his affinity for designer labels was 'style pig'.

"Label queen. If the Armani fits." The words felt hot against his ear.

Goose flesh raised on his neck. "Do you know what you're doing here, Stanley?" Please say yes, please say yes.

"Oh yeah. At least that's what I've been told. Question is, do you know what you're doing here? Do you know what you were doing at dinner?"

Vecchio stepped away from the enticing man next to him, sipping his brandy to try and clear his head. "I wasn't sure what I was doing at first. In fact, I'm not sure what I'm doing here right now."

"Whoa. The great Ray Vecchio admitting he's unsure of himself. I feel honored."

Just a touch of snide in the comments that came from his partner. Vecchio raised his head to look directly at his partner. "You should. I don't admit that to many people."

Ray Kowalski looked into the eyes of the man across the room and saw a vulnerability he'd never seen before. He swirled his brandy in its snifter and studied the Italian for a moment. A slow, easy smile spread on his face and he tossed back his drink.

"I wasn't sure until I asked you up here. When I heard myself call you Ray, I knew I was going to do this."

"Do what?"

"This." Kowalski took the snifter from Vecchio's hand and set it on the coffee table. Then he took the Italian's face in his hands and placed a soft kiss on the generous mouth.

Vecchio immediately captured the full lower lip and sucked, then flicked his tongue out to explore the hot mouth being offered to him. Only a moan from that mouth brought him back to himself. What are you doing? He's your partner, he's your partner, he's your partner.

Hands firmly on Kowalski's shoulders, Vecchio broke the kiss. Breathing heavily, Ray whispered against his partner's mouth. "What are we doing?" He struggled for control, closing his eyes and swallowing hard.

"I think it's called kissing, Ray." Kowalski sounded amused.

"Stanley, don't be a smart ass. I mean what are we doing? For Christ's sake, we're partners. We're not supposed be fucking around with each other. It's against the rules." He pushed Kowalski away roughly, creating some much needed safety space between them.

"Never thought you were much for rules. Besides, we haven't fucked yet." The emphasis Kowalski placed on the word yet made Vecchio think that he wasn't safe, not at all. How could he not be attracted to this man, this bundle of energy wrapped in a slim, fair package?

"You know what I mean."

Kowalski snickered and ran a hand through his spiky blond hair. "Yeah, I do know what you mean. But Jesus, Ray, you were the one who sprung for the fancy, romantic dinner. If you didn't want this, you shouldn't have been sending such loud signals."

"Fuck. I don't believe this. God damn fucking Benton Fraser."

"Where the hell did that come from? What does he have to do with this?" Oh, fuck me running, he only wants me because I make him think of Fraser. Shit, I knew this was too good to be true.

"He's been playing matchmaker and I ignored the little voice in my head that kept telling me it was a bad idea."

"Fraser? Playing matchmaker?" Stan hoped that the surprise masked the relief in his voice. The absurdity of the thought hit him and bubbled out in a laugh.

Vecchio saw that deadly flash of smile and heard a throaty chuckle. He heard the ridiculousness in the question and had to answer with his own smile.

"Yeah. Ironic, huh? I kept saying 'he's my partner' and he'd say 'Ray, emotions like attraction and love are not to be taken lightly. I have reason to believe Ray might not be averse to your advances. Whatever else in your life might be affected, it's negligible if you find a person you can truly love.'"

"Yeah. That sounds like Fraser alright."

"Pretty funny, huh?"

"I've heard of weirder things." Kowalski's eyes focused intently on Vecchio. "Why did he feel like he had to play yenta in the first place?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you? Jesus." Ray picked up his drink and downed it one swallow, summoning courage. He stared into his empty glass when he spoke. "Because I told him I thought you were attractive, alright?"

"I asked him that once. If he thought I was attractive. He told me he wasn't qualified to judge." Come on, Vecchio, take the hint. Because I want you but you're gonna have to make the first move this time.

Vecchio's head snapped up and he turned to face his partner. The energy in the room felt charged with something he couldn't ignore. Oh, God, he wants me, wants this. When life presented you with an opportunity, you just had to take it. He knew that he not only wanted to take this chance, he needed to.

Ray halved the distance between himself and Kowalski, standing close, but not touching. "Think I'm qualified?"

Kowalski reached up with one hand and caressed the scrub-cut hair on Vecchio's head. "Yeah, I do."

Vecchio took a step forward and let the hand slide around to the back of his head. Kowalski rubbed his slightly stubbled cheek against Vecchio's. "Love, huh?"

Ray tried to fight the blush that crept up his neck and face as he answered, "Deep like. At least very deep like."

"It's a start." That thousand watt smile was back on Kowalski's face

Vecchio let a devastating smile of his own bloom. He tilted his head and feinted towards Kowalski's mouth. When Kowalski tried for his mouth, Vecchio pulled away, ducking the hungry lips.

The grip on the back of Ray's head tightened and Kowalski took possession of the wide mouth, tongue parting the smug Italian's lips. Vecchio pushed into the kiss, relishing the hardness of teeth cushioned by flesh, tasting brandy and Stanley.

Ray pulled back from the kiss for a moment to lick the taste of Stanley from his own lips. "This is bad idea, you know." Vecchio panted against Kowalski's mouth.

Kowalski growled with frustration and broke their clinch, bitter laughter helping him get his breath back. "Yeah, Ray, I know. But we can't go backwards. I know I won't be able to see you every day without remembering what you taste like after a glass of brandy."

Vecchio moved the three steps it took to close the distance between them again. One hand rested against Stanley's cheek. The look in his eyes was tender and hot at the same time. "I didn't say I wanted to stop."

Vecchio's hands went to work pulling the tails of the other man's shirt out of the waist of his pants, needing the feel of skin. Not that the skin-tight knit left much to the imagination, but there was nothing like the warmth and smoothness of the real thing.

Kowalski shivered as the nimble fingers slid underneath the tight knit of his shirt. Lips tugged at his, a hot mouth opened against his and a tongue reached out to enter his mouth. Warm hands lay against his ribs, gripping lightly. Oh yeah. This is good, this is greatness.

Stan protested with a whimper as the mobile mouth moved away from his. He shivered again at the intrusion of air on his exposed torso, the ghosting of fingertips across his stomach, then down his shoulders and arms as Vecchio dropped to his knees.

"I've always loved your hands," Stanley blurted out. He started at the huff of breath above his waist. He couldn't tell if Vecchio was flattered or thought he was stupid.

Kowalski looked down just in time to see Vecchio's tongue steal out to lick a path around his belly button, then suck at the flat plane of his stomach hard enough to leave a bruise. Those big, graceful hands splayed on his back, seemingly trapped there by the stretchy fabric of Stan's shirt.

Like a big cat, Ray rubbed his cheek against the front of Stan's pants, feeling the twitch of aroused cock behind the soft fabric. Ray smiled when he felt Stan's hand jerk above his head, like he wasn't sure where to put it. Oh yeah, he wanted this.

The uncertain hand finally settled in the finely shaped skull, thumb caressing lightly as Stanley got control of himself.

"Jesus, Ray. Get me outta this suit before I do something my cleaning bill will regret."

A snuffle of laughter puffed against Kowalski's stomach before Vecchio stood up. "Yeah. Prada wasn't meant to take come stains anymore than Armani is. Time to get naked. Any objections?"

"None from the home team. Visitors?"

"No objections here."

"Bed."

"Now."

Despite the need to get naked and horizontal, they both leaned in for a searingly hot kiss, one more taste before they made a run for the border.

The lone straight-backed chair in Kowalski's bedroom served as a valet for the expensive suits being removed as carefully as two hopelessly aroused men could manage. As soon as they were down to their underwear, they both stopped and looked.

"C'mere," Vecchio called softly to the blonde who wore nothing but a pair of grey boxer-briefs and a smile.

Ray nuzzled the soft hair above Stanley's ears and then licked an earlobe. "Not bad for a skinny-assed Polack."

"Yeah? Thanks." Stan dipped his head a little to nudge the patch of hair at the center of Vecchio's chest, inhaling deeply. "Not bad for a skinny-assed Italian."

"Hey! My ass is not skinny. The rest of me, yeah, but not my ass."

Stan cupped his hand over the erection trying to push its way past the waistband of Ray's green silk boxers. Ray grunted softly at the contact. "That ain't skinny, either. You gonna fuck me with it, or is it just for looks?"

Alrighty then. The question of what they were going to do had been answered. Vecchio could think of little else he wanted more than to bury himself in that skinny, beautiful ass.

Ray attacked Stan's mouth, memorizing every minute detail with his tongue, thinking dimly of Fraser as he tasted teeth and palette and tongue.

Stan reached into Ray's boxers, palming the hot erection with one hand as he slid the boxers down with the other. Ray's hands found themselves similarly occupied with his partner's underwear, a slightly more difficult task given the snug fit of the briefs.

Ray relished the feel of the hard, hot flesh as he curled his fingers around it and pumped a couple of strokes. For a moment, Stanley's focus on Ray's cock faltered as he pushed his hips into his partner's touch.

Stan ran a thumb over the tip of Ray's cock, feeling slickness that made his mouth water. Releasing his grip on Ray, he brought his hand to his mouth and sucked the bitter-salty fluid from his thumb.

The pair started to shuffle towards the bed, the underwear around their ankles nearly toppling them over. Once the shorts were kicked out of the way, they went back to the game of exploring each other, finding the places that made the best sounds happen.

Stan mouthed his way down Ray's chin to his neck, tracing his tongue over Vecchio's main artery, feeling the moan it invoked.

Ray circled his thumbs over Stan's nipples, loving the gasp he got as a reward.

As they had worked so well in tandem on the case, so they worked together in this. They left not a single inch of skin untouched, unlicked or unsucked.

Stan didn't remember them making it to the bed. Somehow he'd gotten on his back with Vecchio licking his dick like a lollipop until he had to make it stop or he was going to come all over Vecchio's face. Not only would it be embarrassing because it was way too soon for that, it was rude. It only takes an extra moment to be polite.

Stan scrambled around to lay even with Ray again, hands framing his partner's face. He stared into those beautiful hazel eyes until they focused on him and said determinedly, "Fuck me. Now."

Ray kissed him quickly as his affirmative. "Lube."

Stanley flew to his dresser and wrenched open the top drawer. Tossed what he'd found there at Ray. Astroglide. Nice. Ray's favorite.

"Condoms?"

Fuck. The disappointment that flashed on Kowalski's face told Ray the answer to that question.

Ray's brain started going a mile a minute. What could they do? Hand jobs in the shower? Fuck that. No connection, no real intimacy. Ray didn't want an anonymous-feeling roll in the hay. He'd had enough of those. This felt too important for that.

"You clean?"

Ray let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Yeah. You?"

"Yeah." They both got tested regularly as part of their annual physicals. Ray knew he'd been extremely careful with his very few assignations and it sounded like Stanley's years had been dry since Stella.

If they were going to take this risk, it was going to be for keeps. This wasn't just going to be a fuck. Ray didn't go without if it was casual. Something inside told him this was going to be worth it. But would Stanley be okay with that?

Ray got off the bed and went over to Stan, kissing him lightly on the mouth.

"Stanley-"

"I know."

The look in Stanley's eyes said it all. He understood. For a second, Ray wondered just how much experience Stanley had playing for the home team. Right now, though, all that mattered was that they were going to connect, really connect.

They fell on the bed, kissing and groping, moaning and sighing. After a few minutes, Ray groped one hand over the bed until he found the lube again. Then he tried to push Stanley over onto his stomach. Stan resisted and protested the action.

"Back to front."

"Face to face."

"Back to front. It's easier."

"Face to face. It's hotter."

No argument there. Just thinking about Stanley's face during an orgasm made need flare hot in Ray.

"You are the pushiest bottom I've ever known."

Stanley just grinned and lifted his knees up, making his desire patently clear.

"You love it and you know it."

Ray didn't reply, he just circled a slick finger around Stanley's opening for a few seconds before breaching the ring of muscle.

Stan gasped at the intrusion, feeling the cool slick start to warm as the beautiful finger attached to that beautiful hand started to relax and stretch him. As he added another finger, Ray languidly stroked Stan's erection, knowing it would take his mind off any residual discomfort, but Stan's hand on his wrist stopped him.

"Don't need it. You feel good." Stan laced his fingers with Ray's and arched into the fingers inside him, keeping Ray's rhythm. Something in Stan's voice made Ray look up at his face.

For a moment their eyes met. Ray's breath caught when he saw the naked emotion on Stan's face. Need, want, other things he was afraid to name just yet.

"Stanley." Ray couldn't control the tremor in his voice.

Stan squeezed Ray's hand. "Ray, just do it. Please." With his last word, Stan poured out all the longing, the need he couldn't hold in any longer.

Ray couldn't argue with that plea. He shifted into position, never letting go of Stan's hand. He stroked himself briefly with his lube-coated hand, then started to ease his way in.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Ray groaned as he slid into Stan. He'd forgotten. Forgotten how good the connection felt. It had been so long since he'd taken anyone like this, face to face; longer still since he'd trusted anyone enough to do it without a sheath of latex separating him from his lover.

Trust. Yes, trust. Burgeoning friendship. Definite attraction.

Ray's eyes shuttered closed as he leaned forward, latching his mouth on Stan's neck, which had stretched in an arch. God, this couldn't be happening. This ache of tenderness Ray hadn't felt in so long he hadn't recalled the bitter sweetness of it.

Stan broke the connection of their hands. They didn't need that anymore. They were connected now in a deeper, more intimate way. He reached up, caressing Ray's face, rubbing the baldpate that seemed to fascinate him. Palms slid over Ray's back until fingers dug into his ass cheeks and started urging him into action.

Ray's concentration hit an all-time new level as he started thrusting with new purpose, braced on his left hand while his right took up the same rhythm on Stan's cock.

Stan put a hand over Ray's, trying to slow the relentless pace, trying to make it last, trying to regain some control of the onslaught on his senses.

"Who's the top?"

Stanley mumbled something into Ray's mouth as they kissed.

Ray pounded into Stan, hitching his hips to angle into Stan's prostate with each thrust. "I didn't hear you. Who's. The. Top?" Ray accented each of his words with a roll of his hips, not relenting until --

"Ray --!" It was all the words Stan could form as his body finally gave up the fight and he came harder than he'd ever come in his life. Muscles clamped down on Ray's cock and Ray let out a wordless groan as he let himself go.

Neither of them had the energy to move much. They kissed and stroked each other lazily for a few moments as they drifted down from their highs. Stan grabbed a handful of tissues from the box by the bed and carelessly wiped the mess off his stomach. Then they simply rolled over, Ray curled around Stan, and they slept.

Ray Kowalski woke as he always did, slowly and crankily, nearly face down in the pillow. He inhaled and exhaled several times, taking a mental inventory of himself before he thought about opening his eyes.

No alarm. Must be Saturday. Not hungover. Good. Mouth tastes like shit, but there you go. Bladder full. Gonna have to get up and piss in a minute or ten. Or fifteen. Ankle hooked over something hard and bony. Feels like another ankle. Holy Shit! Vecchio!

Kowalski lifted his head with a jerk and saw his partner grinning at him. His face immediately fell back onto the pillow.

"Morning, Beautiful."

"Mmph."

"You want coffee?"

"Mmmhmmph."

"Stanley?" Vecchio reached a hand out to caress his partner's tousled head. Stan just grunted.

A knot started to form in Ray's gut. Maybe Stanley was having second thoughts. Maybe this was the wrong thing to do and he should have listened to himself and his misgivings last night. Maybe he shouldn't have let his dick and Benton Fraser do his thinking for him. Well, then. Time to cut your losses and figure out how the hell to work with him after this.

Ray gently started to ease away from the other body in bed and slip out from under the covers. Before he got very far, Kowalski's hand clamped around his wrist.

"Ray, wait." Shit. I'm a shit. There was no mistaking the uncertainty in the Italian's voice when he'd said Stan's name.

Kowalski rolled over, managing to pull Ray on top of him, tangling them both in the sheet and bedspread that covered them. "I'm hosting this little breakfast date. I'll make the coffee."

Stanley Raymond Kowalski gazed up at his partner and stroked the short, fuzzy hair on the darker man's head. "I'm sorry. I'm not a good morning person. So let's try this again. I think you said 'Morning, Beautiful.' To which I reply 'Morning, Handsome. Come here often?'"

Ray felt the roll of Stanley's hips underneath him and watched an incredibly seductive smile creep onto the blond's face. The knot of fear and doubt melted in the heat of that smile. Morning breath and all, Ray Vecchio moved in to give his lover a good morning kiss, short, soft and closed mouthed, but full of tenderness.

"Only once so far, but I'm hoping for more."

If possible, Stanley's smile got wider and brighter. "Good. I was hoping the same thing." He reached up and kissed his lover once more. "Now, at the risk of sounding rude, you need to let me up so I can get out of bed. If my bladder screams much louder, I'm gonna wet the bed."

This time when Vecchio eased away from his lover, he did it with good nature and relief. It was okay.

While the host padded to the bathroom and took a leak, the guest pulled on his trousers and headed for the kitchen to find coffee supplies. A coffee pot lurked in the corner by the stove next to a container with a hinged lid. Bingo! Coffee. As he reached for filters, he felt moist lips touch his shoulder blade and warm hands snake around his waist to rest on his stomach. Mmmmm, Stanley.

"I said I'd make coffee. You tryin' to make me look bad?"

Vecchio settled back against the warm chest and covered the hands on his belly with his own, stroking them absently. "Hey, Ray?"

Kowalski rested his chin on Vecchio's shoulder. "What happened to Stanley?"

"I was just going to ask you about it. Do you really mind it so much if I call you Stanley?"

Vecchio felt a huff of breath when Kowalski let out a short laugh.

"You know something? It's weird, but I don't mind. Everyone else, except my mum, calls me that and I get pissed. I guess if it comes from people I love, it doesn't sound so stupid. Besides, hearing it come out of your mouth when you're all hot and bothered sounds so fucking sexy." Stanley brushed his lips against his lover's shoulder again.

"Hey, Stanley?"

"Yeah?"

"You really love me?" Great, Ray. Sound like a needy teenager just hitting puberty.

Stanley squeezed Ray around the middle. "Yeah, I think I do."

Ray squeezed back. "Good. I think I love you, too."

"A little early to tell if it'll last, but we got a good start."

"I think so, too."

Stan nudged Ray out of the way and made good on his promise of coffee. When the pot was plugged in and starting to brew, Stan went over to the sink where Ray leaned and took up a place next to him, their shoulders and upper arms touching. They both stared at the brown liquid dripping into the coffee pot as if they were meditating, arms and ankles crossed.

"What about Fraser?" Ray knew they'd have to talk about it eventually. Might as well get it over with, though it would probably be hard on both of them before their first cup of coffee.

Then again, maybe not, since Stanley answered right away.

"This isn't about him. Yeah, he made us both better people for knowing him. He brought out the best in us as cops and as people. But he wasn't for either of us. He was here to prep us for each other, I think."

"You a philosopher, Stanley?"

"Sometimes. I'm full of surprises, Raymond."

Stan turned to his partner, pulling Ray close and kissing him softly.

"I think you may be right. You remember what he said in that damn hotel room?"

"'I knew you two would hit it off.' You think he was trying back then?"

"You never know. I used to think he was innocent as the driven snow. Then I found he was more like snow that had been driven on. He's more devious than anyone ever gives him credit for."

Ray kissed the top of Stanley's head and tried to smooth the hair down. "You loved him, didn't you?" It wasn't really a question.

"Yeah. I still do. As a friend. He's a good man."

"As a friend. Yeah, me too. Life wouldn't be the same without him, but I know I can live without him. There was a time I didn't think I could."

"I know the feeling. It's why I stayed up in Canada for so long. But being up there with Ben, it made me realize that I'd be alone if I stayed. He needed me, needed us when he was here. Up there he doesn't need anyone. We need each other."

"Yeah."

"Besides, if I stayed with him, I'd never get laid."

"Straight as an arrow, huh? I was never brave enough to ask. I just assumed."

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask. I kissed him. He was very sweet about it, but he said no."

"That's why he said he didn't think you'd be averse!"

"Yup."

The coffee stopped dripping and both men were grateful to have cups of steaming brew to sip. They took it to Stan's couch and sat side by side holding hands, enjoying each other's warmth.

"He'd be proud of us, you know."

"You mean this?" Ray held up their twined hands.

"Well, yeah. This. But the case was what I was thinking about. We worked really well together, playing off each other's strengths, give and take."

"We are pretty amazing together, aren't we?"

"You're not talking about police work right now, are you, Vecchio?"

"Nope. But that works, too." Vecchio rubbed one of his feet on Stanley's nearest ankle, then turned his head to kiss a bare shoulder. "God, I'm so glad."

"What?"

"That all the fucking posturing is over. We don't have to dance around each other wondering what we're thinking. I was getting so goddamn tired of it."

Kowalski took a mouthful of coffee and swallowed, the question in his mind finally getting the courage to make itself known.

"So how long has it been for you?"

"What? Since I had sex? I don't even want to think about it."

"No, not that. I mean since you knew you were gay."

"Since forever, man. I tried playing straight. Thought that if I could find a nice girl to marry and get her pregnant I could forget about what I really wanted. But when Ange and I got divorced, I knew better than to try again. It hurt too damn much hurting her like that.

"What about you? Or are you one of those pussies who claims to be bisexual because he liked fucking women or is afraid to commit to loving a man?" Ray kept his tone light, but the question was important to him. He'd been burned before by a man who ran from his homosexual leanings because he was afraid. That had hurt like hell.

"I guess I wondered a long time. I'd had a boyfriend for a while when I was young. Stell and I were off and on for years before we got married. During a couple of the off times, I played around with guys. But I loved Stella so much and thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. So no, I'm not a pussy, but yes I'm bisexual. I lived my life as a straight man for a long time and it was me then. It just so happens that the me I am now is ready to commit to loving a man."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Dope." Stanley nudged Ray with his elbow.

"Bitch." Ray nudged back, snickering.

"Am, too." Stanley leaned over and bit an ear playfully.

They had a good hearty laugh at that. It felt good to tease knowing what they knew now. Ray and Stan exchanged a soft, tender kiss and settled back to finish their coffee. Stan shifted down to pillow his head on Ray's shoulder and prop his feet on the coffee table, returning his hand to clasp his lover's.

"Do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Don't call me Stanley at work. The minute you do and I don't jump down your throat about it, the secret's gonna be out and they'll split us up."

Ray Vecchio squeezed his partner's hand. "Let 'em try." He brought the hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckles. Stan couldn't miss the love in Ray's eyes and he knew his eyes told the same story.

"You are a label queen, you know."

"You're a hedonist and a closet gourmet. I think that makes us even."

"So, who's gonna call Fraser?"

Gales of laughter drifted into muted sighs that turned into throaty moans as they put off the answer to that question for at least another half hour. They had more important things to do than update Benton Fraser on their good forture. What a surprise.

End Life Goes On by JennyB.: buehler67@yahoo.com

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