Boredom's the Real Silent Killer   Graham Gregory Graham Gregory 30
156 2000-08-22T10:35:00Z 2000-08-22T21:10:00Z 4 1168 6658 Home 55 13 8176
9.2720	       Rated NC-17 for graphic m/m. Sequel to One of the Family.  
Mot beta'd. Mistakes are mine, I tell you, all mine!   Of course these
characters don't belong to me, they belong to those happy chappy's at
Alliance.   Boredom's the Real Silent Killer     "M'bored!" Stan whined
for the fourth time in as many minutes. Ray looked up from the assortment
of Riviera engine pieces covering the kitchen table to look at him in
exasperation.   "Go read a book," he suggested, turning back to the
distributor he was cleaning.   "I don't wanna read a book," Ray sighed, it
was going to be a long afternoon.   "Watch the TV then,"   "Dere's nuffin
on," Stan continued to whinge as he hobbled around the apartment
unsteadily on his one good foot.   "Go for a walk then," anything to get
him five minutes peace and quiet.   "Even if I could get down the stairs
and back up again, where the hell would I walk to?"   "Stan, I didn't have
the day off so I could entertain you," Ray sighed in annoyance, pointedly
turning back to focus his attention on the starter motor that had been
giving his baby Riv trouble earlier in the week, hence the real reason for
the day off.   "But m'bored,"   "Yeh, I got that the first hundred times
you said it. Go be bored somewhere else,"   "Fine!" Ray could hear Stan
grabbing his jacket and crutches and making for the door, "maybe I'll find
someone who gives a damn,"   "Good luck," Ray yelled after him as the door
slammed. Ray felt slightly guilty, he shouldn't have said those things
while Stan was still feeling insecure, although he had a good idea where
Stan was headed, no doubt he'd hobble seventeen blocks to the consulate to
whinge to Fraser about him. Ray thought he'd give him half an hour, and
then give Fraser a ring, just to make sure he's ok. At least that would
give him half an hour to sort his car out.   0o0o0   An hour later a happy
Ray Vecchio replaced the engine parts and grinned as it purred into life.
He'd almost forgotten about his little spat with his lover while being
engrossed in oily mechanisms. He decided now would be the perfect time to
go and visit the consulate and drag Stan back home now that he'd made his
point.   0o0o0   He pulled the Riv into it's customary place outside the
consulate, bounced inside to find Turnball surrounded by a school trip's
worth of children, Ray quickly sidestepped the hubbub and made his way to
Fraser's office.   "Hey Frase," he greeted as the Mountie looked up from
his paperwork.   "Good afternoon Ray, what brings you to the consulate?"  
"I've come to save you from a whining Stan," he explained, Fraser just
looked confused,   "Why would Stan be whining?"   "You mean he didn't give
you the in depth version of how insensitive I am?" Ray asked in shock,  
"How could he of, I haven't spoken to him all day," Ray felt the dread
build up in his stomach,   "Well if he didn't come here, where did he go?"
he asked the Mountie.   "I have no idea Ray, when was it you last saw
him?"   "An hour ago,"   "Did he say where he was going?"   "If I knew
where he was going I wouldn't be here, running around on a wild goose
chase, would I?"   "Understood,"   "I'd better go Frase,"   "Ray, you
really shouldn't worry, Stan is a grown man, and he is perfectly capable
of looking after himself,"   "Fraser, Stan has a broken foot, he got that
kicking a wall, god only knows what trouble he can get himself into on the
streets of Chicago," and with that Ray was out the door and speeding off
down the road.   0o0o0   Exhausted and bored of driving around in vain,
knowing that if Stan didn't want to be found then he probably wouldn't be.
Hoping that Fraser was right that Stan could in fact, for once, be trusted
to take care of himself without raising Ray's blood pressure any more.  
Getting out of his care, for some reason Ray looked up at the sky, shocked
to see a pair of legs hanging over the side of the roof of the apartment
building.    Make that one leg and one plaster cast.   Ray wasn't sure how
he managed to sprint up the six flights of stairs without giving himself a
heart attack, but he eventually found himself panting at the top, flinging
the door to the roof open and sprinting over before his lover decided to
do anything stupid. Well, stupider. As he rushed up to Stan, he saw his
lover turn and smile at him.    "Stan. Don't," he panted. Stan looked up
at him in concern,   "You OK Ray? yer breathing kinda hard. Not that I
don't like it when you start panting, but under the right circumstances,
if ya get my meaning," he winked suggestively up at him.   "Don't," Ray
repeated as he tried to get his breath.   "Don't what?"   "Do it, I'm
sorry I yelled at you. You know I didn't mean it," understanding dawned in
Stan's eyes as he grinned up at him humouredly.   "Ya thought I was gonna
top myself?" he asked in disbelief, "ya know me better than that Ray, if I
was gonna do it, I'd eat my gun, not make a splattered puddle on the
sidewalk." Ray stared down at him in utter horror, "I'd have done it by
now Vecchio if I was gonna," he assured him, trying to keep a straight
face at his dismayed lover.    "You weren't going to jump?" he asked
again.   "I may be damaged, but I ain't unhinged yet," he assured, pulling
on his lover's arm to make him sit down next to him.   "You scared the
hell outta me Kowalski," he sighed, "again!"   "You'll think twice about
yelling at me now, won't you?" he asked with a chuckle. Ray reached over
and pulled Stan's head to his to kiss him demandingly, reassuring himself
that he was fine. Stan was more than enthusiastic in returning the kiss,
his hands roaming over Ray's oil stained work shirt, pulling impatiently
at the buttons.    "Someone could come up here," Ray protested
half-heartedly in a breathless voice.   "Take me too long ta get down the
stairs on those damn contraptions. Can't wait that long," he insisted
deepening the kiss, pulling them both back so they were lying on the rough
concrete. Clambering on top of Vecchio Stan started to work at the belt on
his lover's jeans, bored with the still-half-done-up shirt. Yanking Ray's
boxers and jeans down in an unceremonious tug, careful of his lover's
straining erection.    Ray bucked unconsciously into the warm hand that
encircled him and created the most delightful friction. He moaned louder
as an even warmer pair of lips replaced the hand. Kowalski deep throated
him and didn't restrain his hips as he began to buck into his mouth, Stan
reached down to fondle his balls with one hand and the other hand snaked
up to play with a hardened nipple. Before long Ray was coming in long
jets, that Kowalski swallowed greedily.    Stan clambered lazily back up
to give Ray a very wet, equally lazy kiss.   "Ummm, I like Italian," he
purred, Ray could taste himself on his lips and Kowalski licked his to
clean up some that he had missed. Ray quickly redressed himself, conscious
of people that could some out onto the roof, knowing that Stan wouldn't
mind his being clothed again he started to give his lover's ratty clothes
the same impatient treatment he'd given his earlier. But by the time he'd
got Stan's cock in his hand, Stan was too far gone to care what Ray did to
him, and came quickly over his lover's fingers. Ray brought the sticky
hand up for his partner to lick clean; after all, he did make the mess.
Ray wasn't sure what he'd done wrong when Stan stiffened in fright beneath
him, Ray didn't know that Milner had used exactly the same gesture with
Stan three weeks ago. Ray quickly lapped up the mess himself. Inordinately
pleased as Stan relaxed beneath him and hugged him impossibly tight. He
grabbed Stan around his waist and hauled him over his shoulder.   "Hey
Vecchio, is this your idea of being romantic? If so then you can count me
out," he yelped in surprise as he wriggled impossibly in his arms.   "I'd
stay still if you don't want a matching cast on the other foot," Ray
warned.   "So da whole plaster thing does turn ya on!" Stan accused
laughing, "what about my crutches?" Stan asked wondering how Vecchio could
possibly carry him and a set of crutches.   "I'll come get them later,"
Ray promised.   "What if they get stolen?"   "Who'd want to steal your
crutches?"   "I dunno, other crazed suicidal guys?" he suggested
sarcastically.   "What were you doing up there anyway?" Ray asked in
curiosity.    "I was thinking, least there's no-one up here I can annoy
with my boredom,"   "Well the Riv's fixed, so I can entertain you for the
rest of the day, can you think of something we can do?" Ray asked,   "I
can think of several something's,"   Ray sped up his pace to get back to
the apartment.   The End.