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.