K/V snippet for hurry_sundown from rubberbutton
K/V, 750 words, PG
He’d said it as a joke. Really, that’s all it was suppose to be-not an invitation or a suggestion or anything untoward. Just a dumb, thoughtless, shootin’-my-mouth-off-here sort of joke.
Vecchio had offered to let him chose where they got lunch before heading over to Sullivan’s Yarn and Craft Supply Emporium-money laundering scrap-bookers, who’d have thunk it?
“There’s that Mexican place on Thirty-ninth. Or I’m always up for Chinese.” Vecchio had shrugged. “Just not Tucci’s-I don’t know what they think they’re serving up, but it sure isn’t Italian. So what do you feel like?”
Ray had felt buoyant, the crisp spring day raising his spirits and putting pep in his step. It had been one of the first bright days since winter had finally loosened its chokehold on the city and, though the breeze had been still been sharp enough to warrant a light jacket, the sun had been warm on his face. Maybe it had been his weather-inspired giddiness that led him to grin, bump his shoulder into Vecchio and say,
“I’m up for anything. I’m easy-in more ways than one.” The innuendo had been practiced; it wasn’t the first time he’d used the line. He had expected Vecchio to roll his eyes or make a disparaging remark about Ray’s taste or virtue.
But Vecchio had looked over at him, and for just the briefest of instances his expression was open and speculative. Ray barely had time to register it before it was gone. Ray stumbled, missing a curb in his surprise. Vecchio caught his elbow and steadied him, his expression clearing. But it had been there, Ray knew it too well to be mistaken and now he was left to trail after Vecchio, desperately replaying every interaction they’d ever had, searching for signs that, yes, Vecchio had a thing for him.
“How about Chinese?” Vecchio had said, tone mild, “I could really go for some sesame chicken.”
---
Now Ray was left stealing glances over at Vecchio from across the bullpen-Vecchio had taken his old desk back, so Ray had one up and sort of kitty-corner, right under the draft from the vent. It was extremely annoying.
“Can I help you with something?” Vecchio called, apparently still reading over a case report.
Ray thought about playing it off, but that would just make him seem more suspicious. He made a show of carefully stacking the folders on his desk and then went to take a seat on the edge of Vecchio’s desk.
“Yes?” Vecchio prompted as Ray picked up his tape dispenser and fiddled with it.
“Oh, nothing.” Ray carefully tore off a piece of tape and wound it around a finger. He would have gotten another piece but Vecchio grabbed the dispenser from his hands in exasperation and set it out of reach. “Meanie.”
“What do you want, Stanley?”
“Don’t call me that,” Ray said without heat; the exchange was automatic for them now.
Vecchio pushed his chair away from his desk, fingers folded together. The dark green shirt he wore really brought out the color of his eyes. “Fine. What do you want, Ray?”
“You remember yesterday? When we got lunch?” Ray prompted, waiting for Vecchio to catch on.
Vecchio nodded, clearly not getting the significance. “Yeah, I remember yesterday. Senility hasn’t set in quite yet, thank you very much.”
“And before lunch, I said I was easy and you gave me a look.” There was no way Vecchio could forget. “And I just want to know is: was it a thing?”
“Are you feeling all right? All those blows to the head finally catching up with you? Because I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“You know, a thing,” Ray said, trying to will Vecchio into understanding. “A zing thing.” Ray gestured between the two of them, vainly trying to express that fleeting moment of desire.
“A zing thing?” Vecchio laughed loudly enough to make Ray nervous; this wasn’t the best location for this conversation. “You really are crazy, you know that?”
“Yes, a zing thing. Sure, it's been awhile since anyone zinged for me, but I still remember what it felt like,” Ray said defensively, feeling his neck flush. "So I might be crazy but I'm not usually wrong. Not about this. All I'm looking for is an answer-" he hadn't let him think past that to the possibilities if Vecchio said yes, "-I just want to know if I'm right."
Vecchio considered for a long moment, his eyes casting up and down Ray from boots to spiked hair, and he grinned slowly. “Maybe you are and maybe you aren't.”
It wasn't a no. And with Vecchio, anything that wasn't a no was a yes. Ray stood and wiped his sweaty palms down his jeans. “All right. Yeah. I can work with that.”
---
For:
hurry_sundown
Prompt: F/K (slash or gen) or K/V (slash or gen), with the prompt, "I'm easy - in more ways than one."
He’d said it as a joke. Really, that’s all it was suppose to be-not an invitation or a suggestion or anything untoward. Just a dumb, thoughtless, shootin’-my-mouth-off-here sort of joke.
Vecchio had offered to let him chose where they got lunch before heading over to Sullivan’s Yarn and Craft Supply Emporium-money laundering scrap-bookers, who’d have thunk it?
“There’s that Mexican place on Thirty-ninth. Or I’m always up for Chinese.” Vecchio had shrugged. “Just not Tucci’s-I don’t know what they think they’re serving up, but it sure isn’t Italian. So what do you feel like?”
Ray had felt buoyant, the crisp spring day raising his spirits and putting pep in his step. It had been one of the first bright days since winter had finally loosened its chokehold on the city and, though the breeze had been still been sharp enough to warrant a light jacket, the sun had been warm on his face. Maybe it had been his weather-inspired giddiness that led him to grin, bump his shoulder into Vecchio and say,
“I’m up for anything. I’m easy-in more ways than one.” The innuendo had been practiced; it wasn’t the first time he’d used the line. He had expected Vecchio to roll his eyes or make a disparaging remark about Ray’s taste or virtue.
But Vecchio had looked over at him, and for just the briefest of instances his expression was open and speculative. Ray barely had time to register it before it was gone. Ray stumbled, missing a curb in his surprise. Vecchio caught his elbow and steadied him, his expression clearing. But it had been there, Ray knew it too well to be mistaken and now he was left to trail after Vecchio, desperately replaying every interaction they’d ever had, searching for signs that, yes, Vecchio had a thing for him.
“How about Chinese?” Vecchio had said, tone mild, “I could really go for some sesame chicken.”
---
Now Ray was left stealing glances over at Vecchio from across the bullpen-Vecchio had taken his old desk back, so Ray had one up and sort of kitty-corner, right under the draft from the vent. It was extremely annoying.
“Can I help you with something?” Vecchio called, apparently still reading over a case report.
Ray thought about playing it off, but that would just make him seem more suspicious. He made a show of carefully stacking the folders on his desk and then went to take a seat on the edge of Vecchio’s desk.
“Yes?” Vecchio prompted as Ray picked up his tape dispenser and fiddled with it.
“Oh, nothing.” Ray carefully tore off a piece of tape and wound it around a finger. He would have gotten another piece but Vecchio grabbed the dispenser from his hands in exasperation and set it out of reach. “Meanie.”
“What do you want, Stanley?”
“Don’t call me that,” Ray said without heat; the exchange was automatic for them now.
Vecchio pushed his chair away from his desk, fingers folded together. The dark green shirt he wore really brought out the color of his eyes. “Fine. What do you want, Ray?”
“You remember yesterday? When we got lunch?” Ray prompted, waiting for Vecchio to catch on.
Vecchio nodded, clearly not getting the significance. “Yeah, I remember yesterday. Senility hasn’t set in quite yet, thank you very much.”
“And before lunch, I said I was easy and you gave me a look.” There was no way Vecchio could forget. “And I just want to know is: was it a thing?”
“Are you feeling all right? All those blows to the head finally catching up with you? Because I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“You know, a thing,” Ray said, trying to will Vecchio into understanding. “A zing thing.” Ray gestured between the two of them, vainly trying to express that fleeting moment of desire.
“A zing thing?” Vecchio laughed loudly enough to make Ray nervous; this wasn’t the best location for this conversation. “You really are crazy, you know that?”
“Yes, a zing thing. Sure, it's been awhile since anyone zinged for me, but I still remember what it felt like,” Ray said defensively, feeling his neck flush. "So I might be crazy but I'm not usually wrong. Not about this. All I'm looking for is an answer-" he hadn't let him think past that to the possibilities if Vecchio said yes, "-I just want to know if I'm right."
Vecchio considered for a long moment, his eyes casting up and down Ray from boots to spiked hair, and he grinned slowly. “Maybe you are and maybe you aren't.”
It wasn't a no. And with Vecchio, anything that wasn't a no was a yes. Ray stood and wiped his sweaty palms down his jeans. “All right. Yeah. I can work with that.”
---
For:
hurry_sundown
Prompt: F/K (slash or gen) or K/V (slash or gen), with the prompt, "I'm easy - in more ways than one."