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Even after three years, Ray still sometimes felt like it should feel weird to be making out with Ray Kowalski. It shouldn't feel like the one thing in the world he was created to do.
Kowalski wasn't particularly handsome – neither of them was, he had to admit, to himself at least, if not the world – and he had that bony kind of body shape that, if splayed over a magazine in a sexy pose, would mainly have made Vecchio choke on his drink and then laugh his ass off. But, turned out, sex had nothing to do with how good a person would look in a magazine.
It had been Fraser's beauty that had made Ray betray himself at last, to his own happy ending. Would that have happened if it had been Kowalski who cornered him in his kitchen in Florida, pressed him against the fridge and kissed him until his knees went weak?
Maybe. Because, after all the talking and the soul-searching and the angry manly wood-chopping with his balls freezing off in some god-forsaken stretch of Canada, after the visitations from the ghost of his goddamn dad, all the nightmares, and the insecurity, when Kowalski had locked the two of them in Fraser's cabin's attic, half-lit with gas lamp light and so cold there was frost on the floor, and had touched Vecchio's cheek with just two tips of his left hand's fingers... it had floored Ray almost as quickly as Fraser's intrepid tongue, that afternoon in sweaty Florida.
That was three years ago. This was now.
There was nothing special about this Sunday, except maybe the fact that no-one had yet called to order Vecchio back to work at the station, and it was already 8am. Fraser had the day off, meaning he was fully planning on going out to start football clubs and save lives, like he always did when his job didn't provide enough heroic opportunities. Both Rays had wandered back into the warm bedsheets after a quick wee and a gurgle of mouthwash, and were now locked in a tangle between the sheets, kissing lazily, tongues gently sliding in and out of each other's mouths. Kowalski's limbs fitted against Vecchio's nooks and crannies, and his stubble scratched his neck. Ray luxuriated in that simple sensation.
The sound of running water slowly died out, but Fraser's soft singing continued, his pleasing tenor working its way through "Que Sera, Sera".
Ray rolled Kowalski on top of him, digging his fingers into Kowalski's slightly overgrown hair, threading it, a touch of demand in his movements. It was beginning to get increasingly obvious that this wasn't just cuddling anymore. Still, there was no hurry. No hurry at all.
Ray slid his hand up under the tank top Kowalski had slept in, their boxered hips tucked close together. Bones and tight, thin musculature. Soft hairs down the center of Kowalski's back.
Fraser showed up on the doorway of the bedroom, hair still wet, his shoulders gleaming with moisture, a towel wrapped around his hips despite the fact they'd all seen his family jewels before, up close and personal. Ray gave him a slow, dwelling look over Kowalski's shoulder, before turning his attention back to Kowalski's jawline, his unique, bumpy length of neck.
Kowalski was rubbing against Ray's hips now, a slow but rhythmic movement, and Ray was beginning to feel the flush of desire intensify. He held his hand out to Fraser.
A few seconds, and it was grasped.
The mattress jumped as Fraser's weight tested its springs. "Hey, Frase," Kowalski said without turning around, grinning happily with his eyes half-closed, as Fraser's mouth closed on his shoulder, then on his neck, his ear. Fraser's big hand slid down Kowalski's sides, his other one knotting its fingers with Ray's.
Ray reached across to tuck Fraser's towel off. He did not object.
"This is nice." Ray Kowalski was grinning from ear to ear, his hips bucking shallowly, thrusting his cock against Ray's, and his ass against Fraser's hips. That feeling of unreality fluttered at the edges of Ray's consciousness again, as if he was watching an old, longed-for fantasy come life, the two men above him, flushed and gorgeous and moving sweetly together in a slow build-up to sex.
All his life he'd imagined this, and all his life there had been the screeching of a mental alarm over the peace and beauty of it. Until three years ago.
Kowalski sat up, rested on his knees, and pulled off the tank top. Fraser's hands travelled up his chest, brushed at his nipples. Ray reached for Kowalski's boxers and started tugging them down. They were patterned cotton ones with at least three leose threads that Ray could see. Some people were just hopeless like that.
He felt Fraser fumbling at his side, and lifted his hips to let him pull off his own, immaculate silk boxers. Kowalski was grinding his cock on Vecchio's almost before they were at his knees. "Let's do the double sausage hot dog," Kowalski said. "Frase?"
Holy cow. Even a horrible analogy couldn't ruin the thought Kowalski had just conjured in Ray Vecchio's mind.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive." Kowalski face was beaming, sleepiness transformed into a kind of a euphoria; he was drunk on pleasure, and Vecchio's half-mast had long ago become a willing hardness.
"Benny." Ray swallowed. "Get the lube. The big one."
"We've discussed before the risks involved in an unpredictable dilation of--"
"Shut up and get the stuff, Fraser. And the rubbers. Top drawer."
Kowalski grabbed Ray's head between his hands and kissed him, hungry now, tongue lashing against his, all the while moving above him. Ray grabbed his buttocks, slipping his fingers between them, brushing along the cleft. Ray Kowalski was a slut for buttfucking, loving it perhaps the best out of all three of them, and Ray had never been slow to indulge. There was something in the way Kowalski clutched his cock between his buttcheeks, accepted him inside. Holy fuck. The thought of him and Fraser--
It wasn't as if they hadn't shoved some pretty damn big objects in there before--
"Here we go," Fraser said as his weight unbalanced the mattress once more.
Condoms were passed around. Ray slipped one on Kowalski's tightly circumcised dick, giving the head a loving rub while he was at it, a pull, then another, just to see him moan, while someone – Fraser, he assumed – rolled a rubber over his own cock.
Fraser's head disappeared somewhere behind Kowalski, and Ray could hear the jar popping open even as Kowalski leaned down for another eager kiss, wet and sloppy and excited. It was only by Kowalski's soft grunt and the hitch in his breathing that Ray could tell he'd been penetrated.
Fraser was really, really good at this. Well, he was good at almost everything. Slipping his fingers in another man's ass, teasing it open with just the right amount of firmness and tendency, was probably not something he picked up in Mountie school, though. Then again, who knew what went on in a Mountie school? Maybe there was an course on ass-play between wildlife tracking and advanced cleanliness.
Kowalski's face had begun to twist from bliss to need, and he thrust his ass back towards Fraser's hand. Vecchio lifted his skinny lover's buttocks up and apart, participating in the flow of his hips, the undulation of his body. Rational thought had fled. All he could think of now was that there was a desperate little manslut above him and he wanted to fuck him so hard. With Fraser. Oh god.
"Fraser!" Vecchio cried out, the frustration of the first syllable slipping into threat in the second. "Come on!"
"Move your knees," Fraser instructed gently, his hands coming up to Kowalski's hips to guide him forward. Ray could see glistening moisture on his fingers, and then those fingers grabbed his cock, and set it against the pliant opening of Kowalski's ass.
Kowalski slid his hips over Vecchio, an easy tight fit, and so hot. Vecchio bit his lip even as his head sank deeper into the pillow, his hips thrust up into that sweet, eager, well-lubed tightness, up and up again, up into bliss.
"Come on, Frase," Kowalski panted. "You too. Please."
Fraser crouched over Kowalski, powerful and large and panther-like, his sweet boyish face scrunched up in concentration, pink lips parted. Ray reached a hand up and slipped his thumb between those lips, which closed over the digit, teeth scraping the skin, tongue soft against it.
Fraser's cock was nuzzling the point where Vecchio and Kowalski were joined. Nuzzling, searching, and then pushing.
This time Ray did cry out, a choked cry, while Kowalski grunted loudly enough to startle the sparrow who'd been perching outside the window. Ray saw it fly off from the corner of his eye, jostling the branches until the whispered against the window pane.
Fraser was pushing his cock into Kowalski, his eyes closed in a concentrated frown, as Ray thrust his thumb in and out of Fraser's mouth. A pop, and shiver ran through Kowalski's frame. He was in.
Kowalski half-sank on Ray, groaning and thrusting his ass back against the double penetration. Ray bucked his hips up. It was beyond what he'd expected. Tight as it could be, of course, but by all things holy, the way Fraser's cock was rubbing against his, the two movements in the tightly packed space were something beyond what Ray could have anticipated.
"Holy fuck," he managed, panting in time with Kowalski, as they both pushed his hips down on him and Fraser, who was thrusting up with an annoyingly steady and patient pace.
"Oh god," Kowalski begged, "come in me. Please. Ngh. Ray. Frase. Fuck."
That was it. Stamina games or not, fuck it, enough was enough. Ray could feel the orgasm surging only seconds before it up and galloped all over him, and he gushed his seed into its little rubber receptacle inside Kowalski's stretched-out ass.
As the world came back into focus, Ray could see Kowalski still bobbing up and down on Fraser's cock, looking blissed out of his head, while Fraser's face had taken on that special shade of red that few people had ever had the opportunity to witness. Kowalski's cock was mostly soft, his rubber already filled with cum. His shoulders were red where Fraser's fingers dug into his flesh, and Vecchio's eye caught the sweet undulation of Fraser's last thrust, his divine hips bucking forward to slap tight against Kowalski's buttocks, and stay there, retreating only an inch for a last thrust.
Fraser never cried out when he came. Instead, his breathing seemed to stop, and he seemed to hang weightless for a moment, completely lost, beyond his own control.
The part Ray loved best was when he opened his eyes, the look in them so open and vulnerable it wrung his heart.
*
"I love you two," Kowalski said for the third time, looking from behind his cup of coffee at both of them, one after the other. "I really do." He shifted in his seat, but it seemed to delight him more than pain him.
"Yeah, we know, Ray," Ray said, pouring himself a second cup. It was the good blend. "Pass me the sweetener, Benny?"
Benny did, a thoughtful look on his face. "Ray?" he asked after a moment.
"Yes?" said the Rays together, then gestured to each other, 'whichever'.
"What we did this morning."
"Yeah, hey, you don't have to worry about the dilation thing," Ray Kowalski said. "I feel totally fine."
"I can see that," said Fraser awkwardly. "It's just that – I did promise to go to the Catholic community bake sale, but perhaps later today--"
"You wanna go again?" Kowalski grinned happily.
"...If you two wouldn't mind... doing that to me?"
The Rays exchanged a glance, eyes wide. It was like telepathy.
"Screw the bake sale," said Kowalski, and stood up, the chair clattering behind him.
Ray grinned. This was the life.