Archive of Our Own

Ray curls his fingers around the edge of the table and holds his breath. It's gonna be rough--it's always rough--but he can do it. He can take it.

He can take it because Vecchio says he can take it, Armando Langoustine says he can take it, and he's come way too far to disappoint either one of them now.

Vecchio puts a hand on the back of Ray's neck, squeezes tight, and bends down to whisper in Ray's ear. "You come for any one of these motherfuckers and I will end you," he promises, and Ray nods, just to be sure Vecchio knows he gets it: not until the Bookman says. Fuck, how many times have they done this now? It's not like the first time when Ray got come all over everything; Ray knows how to be a good whore now, a hot little party favor, and he knows the party doesn't stop until the Bookman says it does.

Vecchio leaves one more heavy squeeze on the back of Ray's neck and then steps away. Out of sight, but not out of mind. Ray wants to be good for Vecchio--wants to hear Vecchio telling him he's been good, that Ray's his boy, his slut, his hole, his little pet cop who just needs to get gangbanged now and then to keep him in line...

It's a lie, of course--Langoustine is a lie, this cover is a lie--but it's not like it took Vecchio very long to figure out that some parts of it were true, too. And if it helps Armando Langoustine's reputation to have a cop he can turn into a cock-sucking, dick-hungry hole at any given time, well, Ray can lie there and tell himself that somebody's got to do it, and it might as well be him.

So many goddamned lies, but here's one of those true things: Ray groans past the pain as the first guy pushes his dick into Ray's ass, and Vecchio says, "Hurt him, he fucking loves it," and yeah, yeah--all Ray can think about is getting more. He's hot for it, he's been hot for it all goddamned week, and he and Vecchio finally got themselves a night where teaching the punk cop a lesson was the main attraction. Finally. Ray sucks in a breath as the guy starts really going for it, starts moving and thrusting and opening him up good and wide, and he looks up, looks for Vecchio somewhere in the shadows and prays to all the gods that Vecchio likes what he sees.

The guy behind him gets fast when he's close, hips hitching in kinda rough and wild, and then he's shooting his load, panting loudly behind Ray, and then that's it. He's done. Batter up.

Next guy's a little smaller, and with the lube left over from the first guy, it's a lot easier. Ray just sinks into it, moans as the second guy opens him up. "Yes," Ray hisses, and he looks up, tries to find Vecchio again. "Fuck, yeah--"

"Harder," Vecchio snaps, and the guy behind Ray starts really giving it to him, pounding in hard and rough, and fuck, fuck, he's doing it because Vecchio--because Armando said, because Armando wanted to see Ray take this. Ray pushes back, tries to get it even deeper; if Vecchio wants harder, Ray's gonna do his damnedest to make it a good show.

The second guy's gone and done in no time, though; maybe Ray squirming around like that was too much for him. His loss; Ray's got more in him than that.

The third guy flips him over, puts Ray on his back, which is wrong; now Ray can't look around to see Vecchio, can't tell if he's doing it right. But wait, wait--this guy's looking at Vecchio for Ray, eyes on Vecchio the whole time and not on Ray at all. Fuck, that's hot; the guy pushing into him doesn't give a shit about him at all, either, he just wants to please the Bookman.

Ray cries out--thinking about both of them just here to please Vecchio is way too much, way too much--but apparently Vecchio doesn't want to hear it, because he says, "Fuck, Stanley, shut up. Do I have to fucking gag you?"

Yeah, fuck, yeah, Ray wants that--Vecchio's hand on his mouth, Vecchio's dick in his mouth, something, anything--but he also doesn't want to piss Vecchio off, doesn't want Vecchio to stop this, so he swallows all the things he wants to say and just focuses on taking what guy number three has for him. Harder, harder, you heard the man, harder...

"Yeah, go ahead," Vecchio murmurs, which is good enough for guy number three; he shoots his load and catches his breath and then he's gone, and then there's guy number four.

Ray loses count around then; face-up, then face-down, then face-up again, kneeling at the floor for the guys who want to use his mouth, listening to Vecchio and his orders. Vecchio gets hands-on with the last guy of the night, the guy with the big thick cock who wants Ray to suck it all the way down; he grips Ray by the hair and shoves him onto the guy's cock, holds on while Ray chokes and Ray's eyes water and all Ray can do is grab the guy by the thighs and try to pull him forward, because if Vecchio wants this guy's cock buried in Ray's throat, then Ray's going to give it to him. Ray wants to give Vecchio everything--his body, his cock, his come, so what's a little breath between buddies? He doesn't give a fuck about the air; he needs Vecchio more than he needs to breathe.

The guy comes, and tears well up in Ray's eyes; as soon as he's done, he pulls back, and Ray coughs his goddamned lungs out; he bends over, rubbing at his throat, finally falling down to the floor, weight on his knees and one of his hands as he sucks in breath after choked, coughing breath. Vecchio comes around in front of him; Ray can see his shoes and the hems of his designer pants and that's it.

"You did good," Vecchio says, and Ray feels like a fucking champion. "Come on. My turn, Kowalski."

Ray scrambles to his feet and follows Vecchio into the bedroom. Hell yeah, hell yeah--his legs may be shaky and wobbly, his ass may be thoroughly used, but if it's Vecchio's turn, he'll make it. He'd walk a fucking mile for it.

"You're a wreck," Vecchio murmurs. He pushes Ray down on the bed, and Ray sprawls with his legs spread as Vecchio starts taking off his clothes. Everything gets hung up neatly or put away, folded, and only when he's done with it all does he come to bed.

He grabs a condom out of the nightstand before he climbs up, and he crawls between Ray's legs, one hand on Ray's knee, the other slipping down to his ass. Ray has to suck in a breath--after all those guys, he's sore--but then that's what Vecchio's after. He pushes three fingers into Ray's ass and twists them, making Ray's eyes roll back in his head.

"Still not fucked out yet, huh?" Vecchio smirks at him. "Still got something left for me?"

"Yeah," Ray pants. "Yeah--any time now, c'mon, c'mon--"

Vecchio's fingers push in, push up; he rubs over Ray's prostate hard enough to make Ray gasp. "C'mon yourself," Vecchio growls. "Beg for it. Beg, Stanley."

"Please," Ray forces out, "please, please, just--in me, damn it, fuck me, please, please fuck me--"

"Yeah?"

"Please, Armando--"

Vecchio's eyes narrow, and he slides his hand back; it leaves Ray feeling empty, used and empty, and he swallows, eyes stinging, chest tight. But Vecchio's not going anywhere, or, more to the point, he's going right where Ray wants him to go--he grabs Ray's wrists and pins him down, and once Ray's pinned, once Vecchio's sure Ray isn't going anywhere, he takes one hand back, lines up his cock, and starts slowly--oh God, why's he gotta do it slow--pushing in.

By the time he's all the way inside Ray, Ray's shuddering underneath him, shaking, and Vecchio gets his hands on Ray's wrists again. "Again," Vecchio growls down at him.

And Ray knows what he wants to hear, knows that growl inside and out by now. "Armando--"

"Mine," Vecchio whispers. "I fucking own you and you know it, you want it, you fucking get off on it--"

"--yes, yes, fuck--" Ray closes his eyes and grits his teeth; with Vecchio inside him, with Vecchio growling at him and telling him to beg Armando for it, how the hell's he going to hold back?

"--you're my little slut, and don't you ever forget it--"

"--fuck yeah, fuck yeah, your slut, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon--"

"Do it." Vecchio bends his head down and bites Ray's shoulder, and Ray thrashes underneath him--permission, finally permission, and Vecchio's teeth and oh God oh God oh God oh God...

He swears he goes blind for a few minutes, just a few minutes while he comes and Vecchio drives deep inside him and comes, too, and then Vecchio collapses on top of him, both of them sucking in air desperately.

"Mine," Vecchio mumbles, later, when they've got the breath to speak again. He runs his hand through Ray's hair and then grabs hold of it, holding on tight. "Mine, Kowalski."

"Yeah," Ray whispers. "Yours."

-end-