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crack_van2009-09-10 09:53 pm
inathunderstorm.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2009-09-10 09:53 pm
Litte Things by Ningengirai, Rated R
Fandom: DUE SOUTH
Pairing: Ray Kowalski/Ray Vecchio
Length: 6,314
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ningengirai
Author Website: http://community.livejournal.com/ninberries
Why this must be read: I think my favorite thing about this fic--BESIDES, I MUST POINT OUT, HOW ABSOLUTELY AMAZINGLY HOT IT IS--are the characters, because they are so spot-on and just... ::FLAILS:: Boys! Vecchio is the pursuer, here, with the hots for Kowalski (who's surprised by his attraction to Vecchio--which is a cool angle that isn't done that often in fic and should be, because YUM and YAY) and I just love both boys so much here. ::draws hearts everywhere:: I love Kowalski's sharp intelligence and quirkiness, as well as Vecchio's sarcasm and determination.
I also really liked the realism in this fic; evident in the details about the case they're working, the descriptions of the city and what it means to Vecchio, as well as the effect of being a cop on both characters. Throw in some subtle and well-placed humor, and--let me just say it again--HOTNESS--and this is a great fic, definitely one of my favorites.
Enjoy! :)
Kowalski steps out of the elevator bearing a six-pack of beer and a large pizza box. He looks grey in the light of the corridor, the lines on his face more pronounced than ever, and he's sort of hunched into the safety of his leather jacket. "Hey."
"Hey." Ray steps aside and lets him in without another word. He can't even bring himself to feel thankful for the company Kowalski's offering; visions of Emma Anderson's tear-stained face are swimming up every time he blinks, and he just goes back to the couch after closing the door.
Kowalski disappears into Ray's kitchen and returns a few minutes later with two plates, a bundle of paper napkins, and two open bottles. Ray clicks on the TV, surfs channels until he finds a nature program running a documentary on the volatile nature of volcanoes. Just background noise, something to stare at, to listen to. He accepts the large slice of pizza on a plate Kowalski hands him, opens a napkin over his lap, and chugs down half the bottle without drawing breath.
They sit side by side, eating pizza, drinking beer, Kowalski's arm warm against his side, their thighs and knees touching. Ray manages two slices before his stomach rebels, and puts his plate down on the coffee table, wipes his fingers on the napkin. He drinks the last of his beer and turns on the couch so he's facing Kowalski. "Why are you here?"
Kowalski doesn't answer right away. He puts his plate next to Ray's and sits with his elbows on his knees, head hanging forward, and Ray only now notices that his spiky hair isn't so spiky at the moment, but kind of flattened except for a few random places toward the back of his head. His wrists look fragile poking out of the longsleeve he's wearing, and so does the back of his neck, the hair there baby-soft and fine. The line of his shoulders and the long, curved slope of his back look tense. "You have to ask?"
"After three days of watching you be the amazing invisible man? Yeah, I gotta ask." Ray waves at the pizza and the beer. "It's not that I'm not grateful for the booze and the food, but you could've talked to me at the station."
"With Emma Anderson in the next room and the press all but trampling all over us?" Kowalski huffs out a humorless bark of laughter. "I'm not stupid, Vecchio. When you walked out of the station, you looked ready to rip off heads."
"So what is this? Your idea of comfort?" Ray regrets the words as soon as they are out of his mouth; it's true, he was ready to rip off a few heads and still is. "Hey, wait." Kowalski's already up off the couch, looking stung. Reaching for him with both hands, Ray tugs him back down on. "I'm sorry. It's just—this fucking case. The fucking reporters all over it like vultures."
"I thought you could use the company," Kowalski says quietly, staring at the coffee table. "I know I need it."
Ray knows all about human tragedy and how it brings people closer together, makes them look for comfort in the most unlikely places. God, he's jaded. "That all?"
"No," Kowalski says, even more quietly, and leans over and puts his lips against Ray's.
Little Things
Pairing: Ray Kowalski/Ray Vecchio
Length: 6,314
Author on LJ:
ningengirai Author Website: http://community.livejournal.com/ninberries
Why this must be read: I think my favorite thing about this fic--BESIDES, I MUST POINT OUT, HOW ABSOLUTELY AMAZINGLY HOT IT IS--are the characters, because they are so spot-on and just... ::FLAILS:: Boys! Vecchio is the pursuer, here, with the hots for Kowalski (who's surprised by his attraction to Vecchio--which is a cool angle that isn't done that often in fic and should be, because YUM and YAY) and I just love both boys so much here. ::draws hearts everywhere:: I love Kowalski's sharp intelligence and quirkiness, as well as Vecchio's sarcasm and determination.
I also really liked the realism in this fic; evident in the details about the case they're working, the descriptions of the city and what it means to Vecchio, as well as the effect of being a cop on both characters. Throw in some subtle and well-placed humor, and--let me just say it again--HOTNESS--and this is a great fic, definitely one of my favorites.
Enjoy! :)
Kowalski steps out of the elevator bearing a six-pack of beer and a large pizza box. He looks grey in the light of the corridor, the lines on his face more pronounced than ever, and he's sort of hunched into the safety of his leather jacket. "Hey."
"Hey." Ray steps aside and lets him in without another word. He can't even bring himself to feel thankful for the company Kowalski's offering; visions of Emma Anderson's tear-stained face are swimming up every time he blinks, and he just goes back to the couch after closing the door.
Kowalski disappears into Ray's kitchen and returns a few minutes later with two plates, a bundle of paper napkins, and two open bottles. Ray clicks on the TV, surfs channels until he finds a nature program running a documentary on the volatile nature of volcanoes. Just background noise, something to stare at, to listen to. He accepts the large slice of pizza on a plate Kowalski hands him, opens a napkin over his lap, and chugs down half the bottle without drawing breath.
They sit side by side, eating pizza, drinking beer, Kowalski's arm warm against his side, their thighs and knees touching. Ray manages two slices before his stomach rebels, and puts his plate down on the coffee table, wipes his fingers on the napkin. He drinks the last of his beer and turns on the couch so he's facing Kowalski. "Why are you here?"
Kowalski doesn't answer right away. He puts his plate next to Ray's and sits with his elbows on his knees, head hanging forward, and Ray only now notices that his spiky hair isn't so spiky at the moment, but kind of flattened except for a few random places toward the back of his head. His wrists look fragile poking out of the longsleeve he's wearing, and so does the back of his neck, the hair there baby-soft and fine. The line of his shoulders and the long, curved slope of his back look tense. "You have to ask?"
"After three days of watching you be the amazing invisible man? Yeah, I gotta ask." Ray waves at the pizza and the beer. "It's not that I'm not grateful for the booze and the food, but you could've talked to me at the station."
"With Emma Anderson in the next room and the press all but trampling all over us?" Kowalski huffs out a humorless bark of laughter. "I'm not stupid, Vecchio. When you walked out of the station, you looked ready to rip off heads."
"So what is this? Your idea of comfort?" Ray regrets the words as soon as they are out of his mouth; it's true, he was ready to rip off a few heads and still is. "Hey, wait." Kowalski's already up off the couch, looking stung. Reaching for him with both hands, Ray tugs him back down on. "I'm sorry. It's just—this fucking case. The fucking reporters all over it like vultures."
"I thought you could use the company," Kowalski says quietly, staring at the coffee table. "I know I need it."
Ray knows all about human tragedy and how it brings people closer together, makes them look for comfort in the most unlikely places. God, he's jaded. "That all?"
"No," Kowalski says, even more quietly, and leans over and puts his lips against Ray's.
Little Things
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