It had been a long fucking day, and Ray thought that his upholstery might never recover. He looked glumly down at the front seat of the Riv after he and Kowalski got out. It was stained and damp with the same mud that was currently drying on his eight-hundred-dollar suit (something which would also never recover, thanks), and sometimes, he really hated his job.

Still, they'd caught Mahoney and his three goons that had been shaking down a jewelry store off Michigan. They'd caught him, goods in hand, no way out, and okay, yeah, there'd been the chase through the field back behind the factory. And yeah, Kowalski had had to tackle one of the goons to catch him, ending up right down in the mud with the guy. Ray caught up with them right as the guy flipped Kowalski over, slamming him down in the mud before punching him right in the face.

Ray sighed and tackled the guy off of Kowalski, landing right down in the mud himself, but getting in a good punch. The guy had probably fifty pounds on him, and shrugged him off, driving an elbow hard into his side, but by the time Ray landed on his back, his had his gun out and cocked and pointed right up at the guy's face. He read him his rights even as he felt the mud soaking through his suit coat, watching Kowalski grinning over the guy's shoulder as Ray put the cuffs on him.

They had to be back at the station to do the paperwork - Welsh had given them an hour ("That's one hour, gentlemen.") to get cleaned up, and Kowalski's place was closest to the station.

Ray's shoes squelched uncomfortably as they made their way across the sidewalk and up the flights of stairs to Kowalski's apartment. Ray was too weary to even complain about it, really. "It's my lot in life," he called wearily to Kowalski, who was ahead of him on the stairs, and leaving muddy footprints on every step. "I've accepted it, mostly."

Kowalski didn't even turn around at the top of the stairs, just called back, "What?" as he walked wetly down the hall.

Ray trailed after him. "My lot in life," he explained leaning tiredly against the wall outside Kowalski's apartment and watching as Kowalski dug awkwardly into his jeans pocket for several moments before finally managing to extract his house keys from the soaked denim. The bruise high up on Kowalski's cheekbone was darkening and looked painful. "I can't have nice things." Ray stared down morosely at the destroyed fine leather of what used to be his favorite pair of shoes. "It just gets all fucked up anyway."

"Yeah?" Kowalski was clearly only half-listening to him as he shoved the key into the lock and pushed the door open, stomping inside.

"Yeah." Ray followed Kowalski inside, and shut the door behind them. He took off his drenched suit coat, and watched as Kowalski bent awkwardly, almost falling on his ass as he struggled to pull his boots off. "I'm mostly over it."

"Right." Kowalski straightened up with a sigh, running his hand back through his wet, muddy hair to push it away from his face. He flinched as his hand brushed the bruise on his face. "I can see how you're so totally okay with it, Vecchio." He flicked his fingers down at Ray's feet. "Take the shoes off before you go any further. I don't want mud getting everywhere."

Kowalski had no problem getting mud all over Ray's car, but - "Whatever," Ray muttered, and stepped out of his shoes. He looked at them for a second, wiggling his feet in his damp socks, before sighed and nudging them over to the corner by the door. "Lost fucking cause," he muttered, but he was talking to himself because Kowalski was already making his way to the bathroom.

"I call dibs on the first shower," he called back to Ray.

Ray heard the bathroom door slam shut and sighed, rubbing his temples, then looking down at his hands. His fingernails were caked with mud. His life was hard.

He heard the shower come on, and then, "Hey." Kowalski had the door cracked open. "You get dibs on the scotch. On the counter in the kitchen. Pour me one, would you?"

The door slammed shut again, and Ray slowly made his way to the kitchen. He'd just finished his first glass by the time Kowalski came padding out to the kitchen. He was still wet from the shower, his threadbare towel wrapped tightly around his skinny waist. His hair was sticking up madly in all directions, and the bruise on his face stood out even more now that the mud was washed off his skin.

Ray silently proffered him the glass of scotch he'd poured for him, and Kowalski said, "Oh yeah," and took it thankfully. He took a slow sip, and held it in his mouth for a moment, his eyes fluttering shut, before swallowing, and then grinning at Ray. "God, I needed that. Go, the shower's all yours. Towels are in the cabinet by the sink."

Ray made his weary way to the bathroom. He stripped off his muddy clothes, leaving them piled in a heap in the corner, officially giving up any hope of saving them.

It wasn't until he was actually in the shower (hot as he could stand it), that he clued in to it. He stood there, blinking, in the spray. Sex. The shower reeked of sex.

"Kowalski, you horny bastard," Ray muttered to himself. The guy had actually jerked off in the shower. Had to have. And he knew Ray would be in there right after. Did he just not care? Was he just too turned on, ramped up, to stop himself once it started?

Ray ducked his head under the spray, sighing gratefully as the water pounded away all the mud. He reached for the soap, started washing himself off, trying best he could to ignore the smell of what Kowalski had done in here just minutes ago. Christ, the guy couldn't control himself for five minutes, could he? Just because you got hard didn't mean you had to take care of it right then. Have some self control, huh?

But nah, Ray thought as he rinsed off. Kowalski never did have any self control. He was just that type. Even if he'd tried not to - and man, Ray hoped he'd at least tried - he'd give in, take himself in hand right there under the hot spray, and jerk himself off, heedless of the fact that it was - clearly - going to be really fucking obvious to Ray what he'd been doing in here.

Ray snorted, and turned around, bending his head down and letting the water beat against the back of his neck. Kowalski was such an ass. Ray could just picture him, too turned on to stop himself, so just taking hold of his cock and panting into the steamy air, maybe - maybe - trying to keep quiet enough that Ray wouldn't hear him as he stroked himself off.

Jesus. The shower or the smell or something was getting to him, because Ray was getting hard, and just - no, uh-uh. First, he had more goddamn self-control than Kowalski, and second, no way, no way was he jerking off in another guy's shower. He was fine. He was an adult. He was just going to calmly finish rinsing off and get out of here, and - yes. Right.

He shut the spray off, and flung the shower curtain back determinedly, completely ignoring the fact that he'd gotten pretty fucking hard, really fast. Damn it.

He yanked a towel out of the closet, drying himself off quickly, and reaching for - oh hell. He stared down at the damp pile of his muddy clothes in the corner, then down at his hard-on. Oh, crap.

Deep breath. He wrapped the towel around his hips, resolutely ignoring how his cock clearly tented out the front, and opened the bathroom door slowly. He edged out, but Kowalski was nowhere in sight. Thank Christ.

Kowalski's bedroom was across the hall, and Ray steeled himself, closing his eyes for a moment, before calling out, "Kowalski, you got a pair of pants or something I could borrow?"

From the kitchen, Kowalski's rough voice called back, "I left you jeans and a shirt on the bed."

Thank god. Ray shoved the door open, hurrying over to the bed. No clue how he was going to manage to get the jeans on over his - persistent - erection (there was no reason for it! None! No sex going on! Nothing to see here.), but fuck, anything was better than just the damn towel.

He was reaching for the jeans when he heard a sound behind him, and he swung around, clutching at the towel, to see Kowalski leaning in the doorway, sipping from his glass of scotch. He'd pulled on a pair of jeans, but was shirtless, and his hair was still crazy.

"What?" Ray was going for nonchalant, but it was hard to be cool with a hard-on. He felt his face get hot, and just - damn it. He straightened up, giving Kowalski a hard stare in the doorway. "Got a problem, Kowalski?"

"No problem." Kowalski looked amused, and Ray grit his teeth, schooling his expression to somewhere between bored and pissed off. He wasn't going to let Kowalski judge him. "I was just making sure the jeans fit." He dropped his gaze to the towel.

Ray lifted his chin at him. Kowalski was such an asshole. "Right."

"Mmm." Kowalski pushed off the doorframe, taking another sip of scotch as he moved closer. "Shower okay? I leave you enough hot water?"

"Yeah," Ray said, managing through sheer force of will to keep his voice steady, because fuck, fuck, he might be an adult, but his cock was all teenager, getting harder at the sex in Kowalski's tone, the hot look in his eyes. Again, images flashed through Ray's brain, a pornographic slideshow of Kowalski jerking off in the shower, hot water sliding off of his hard cock as he stroked it frantically, panting into the steam.

Kowalski moved closer, and Ray forced himself not to take a step back. Only way to deal with jerks like Kowalski was to show them down, let them know who's boss. Ray had to handle this before it got out of control.

"You sure?" Kowalski's voice was sexy-smooth, and Ray's cock was throbbing under the towel, and Jesus Christ, sure about what? Ray wasn't sure about anything at all.

"I’m - yeah," he managed, his voice coming out hoarse, and for a second - just for a second - he got distracted by the curve of Kowalski's smile. And Kowalski, damn him, took advantage of that instant, tucking his fingers into the towel right where Ray had it tucked in. He tilted his head at Ray, and Ray felt like he was going to fucking die right here, have an aneurysm. His face was so hot, his cock so hard, his heart pounding so fiercely.

Jesus. He should have just gone with it, jerked off in the shower. Then he wouldn't be having this problem now. Maybe Kowalski had the right idea.

Kowalski edged closer still, and now he was pressed up against Ray. Maybe not - jerking off in the shower hadn't seem to have taken the edge off of him, because he was hard against Ray's hip.

"Back off, Kowalski," Ray said, but his voice wasn't selling it - he didn't buy it himself.

Kowalski was breathing a little fast, and Ray couldn't stop looking at the bruise on his face, turned dark purple now, showing stark against his skin. "Okay, Vecchio," he said, but he tugged just a little on the towel, and the knot slid open. Ray groaned. Oh fuck. He was so screwed.

Kowalski grinned, and pressed his mouth against Ray's at the same time as he circled his hand around Ray's cock.

So screwed.

Ray's hips jerked forward into the circle of Kowalski's fingers, all on their own, and Kowalski's mouth curved into a smile against his for just a second before pressing his tongue into Ray's mouth. He moved his hand on Ray's cock, and Ray moaned helplessly, before - oh, to hell with it - giving in and grabbing hold of Kowalski's hips, all rough denim against soft skin. "You're an asshole, Kowalski," he muttered as soon as Kowalski let him up for air.

"You love it, Vecchio," Kowalski responded, licking his neck and moving his hand in a wicked twist around Ray's cock.

"Oh, fuck you." Ray slid his fingers into the loose waistband of Kowalski's jeans. Kowalski's skin was soft, and hot under Vecchio's fingers. He felt Kowalski laugh a little as he said, "Okay, sure," and pushed him onto the bed.

So screwed. But - better than jerking off alone, that was for damn sure. Kowalski sprawled half on top of him on the bed, kissing him enthusiastically as he moved his hand on Ray's cock in the same rhythm as his tongue in his mouth. Ray, for his part, just sort of held on and kissed him back. He had no choice - Kowalski was going after this hot and heavy and all Ray could do was hang on, because Christ, Kowalski was getting him there fast, fast. He was moaning into Kowalski's mouth, and trying to shove his hips up as much as he could.

Kowalski pulled his mouth away, leaning back a little. He kept pumping Ray's cock, looking down now, apparently wanting to watch as - oh Christ, oh Christ - Ray got closer, panting up at the ceiling as his balls pulled up tight. And with a final, twisting stroke of Kowalski's talented hand, Ray was coming all over himself, biting his lip hard and moaning his way through it.

"Jesus, that was hot." Kowalski sounded pleased with himself. He ran his fingers through the come on Ray's stomach, then looked at Ray's face. "You made a mess, huh?"

"Yeah, well." Ray was trying to catch his breath. "Whose fault is that?"

Kowalski shrugged easily. "Mine." He raised his eyebrows, and grinned wider, nudging his cock - hard again - up against Ray's hip. "I think you might need another shower."

Ray stared disbelievingly at Kowalski. "I think that's what got us into this mess."

"Huh." Kowalski rolled easily off the bed, and slid his jeans off. "You think?" He shot Ray a wicked grin and headed out of the room, bare-ass naked. A few seconds later, Ray heard the shower turn on, and he groaned again, then ran his own fingers over his stomach, and followed.

~end~

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