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Unexpected
for lipstickcat
Author's Notes: Many thanks to Meresy for the last-minute beta! The errors that remain are all on me.
"--and then the guy just confesses! Jack was pissed."
"Wow," Ren said, all big eyes.
Ray shrugged, embarrassed by Ren's apparent sincerity. "Yeah, well. It wasn't that impressive."
"Don't sell yourself short, detective."
"I told you--it's Ray." He glanced past Ren and noticed the busboy sweeping the back of the restaurant and the lack of other patrons. He blinked, surprised. That explained why the waitress kept asking if there was anything else. "Looks like we've overstayed our welcome."
The evening had started as a thank you, mainly because Ray knew neither Benny nor Thatcher would think to say it. But Turnbull had done a good job arranging the ransom money, even if the ransom demand itself had turned out to be a misdirection. None of them had known that at the time, and the feds were too busy chasing their tails to handle it themselves. Turnbull had gotten it together, though, and not even put up a fuss about handing it off to a non-Canadian Chicago detective.
The Dragon Lady, assuming she noticed, would consider it no more than she expected, and not worthy of note. But Ray knew a little recognition could go a long way--he'd be glad to get some, anyway. So, once the train had been stopped and the paperwork postponed, Ray made a point of stopping by the consulate and thanking Turnbull in person.
Turnbull's face absolutely lit up, and some impulse made Ray to offer to take him to dinner. Surprisingly, Turnbull accepted and arranged to meet at the restaurant. More surprisingly, Ray enjoyed himself. He'd been having second thoughts since the moment the invitation had left his mouth. Without actually saying much of anything, Benny had still managed to give the impression of not liking Turnbull much. And Benny liked everyone, just about, so a guy Benny couldn't stand, well...
Well, that guy turned out to be an awful lot like Benny: militantly polite, a fount of weird trivia and able to spout off at length about bizarre topics, like the history of dairy farming in Wisconsin. But he also listened enthusiastically to Ray's stories--which honestly Benny didn't do as much anymore, since he now featured in so many. And he had a first name that outdid Benny's for odd.
Canada really had run out of first names.
After Ray had settled the bill, they paused, silent and awkward, on the sidewalk. Ray, at least, was reluctant to walk away and end the evening. "Give you a lift?"
As soon as he said it, Ray felt stupid. Just because Benny didn't have a car was no reason to assume that Ren wouldn't have driven. He was about to retract the offer, when Ren answered, "Yes, thank you."
In the Riv, the silence continued, broken only by Ren's directions, and yet the awkwardness had faded. There was an open spot in front of Ren's building, and it wasn't decorated with a yellow curb or a hydrant or "no parking" signs, nor did it turn out to actually be an entrance to an alley. Ray pulled in instead of letting Ren out from the street--which was good, because Ren didn't move for the handle right away.
"I was wondering--" Ren cleared his throat and began again. "I was wondering if you might want to come up?"
When Ray glanced over, Ren was staring straight forward at the windshield, as though there'd be a test on the car ahead. Huh.
"Yeah, sure, why not?" He switched off the engine.
Ren lead him up to a second story apartment, apologizing all the way for the 'state' it was in. Of course, once he let Ray in, the place was pretty much spotless. Neatniks were more prone to apologies than actual slobs. Ren's apartment was small, tidy, and several degrees homier than Benny's. Real furniture. Pictures on the walls. Ray had figured Benny was living well below his means--this was confirmation.
"Please, sit down. Make yourself at home." Unaccountably, Ren flushed pink as he said it, and he promptly disappeared into the kitchen.
Ray poked around the front room, the back of his mind working over that flush. Blush. He was looking at the wire rack of CDs--mostly groups he hadn't heard of, he assumed Canadian--when it hit him. Ren was interested. The blush, the invitation, the intent looks, the way he'd sometimes stuttered over his words when their eyes met over dinner.
Ray thought about that. Thought about hard planes and muscles and that half-goofy smile, about enthusiasm and desire and not having a reason not to try--no Mafioso brother, no federal secrets, no already close friendship to risk.
Ren, apparently composed, resurfaced from the kitchen. "I've put some tea on, but it needs to steep."
Ray stepped close and kissed him. He'd meant it to be brief--a soft, deliberate statement of intent--but Ren made this sound low in his throat and kissed him back. Ray held onto Ren's hips and dove into that kiss, focused on those soft lips and warm mouth. Ren's own large hands slid across his back, one up to cradle the nape of his neck, the other finally settling at his waist. He pulled Ray in tighter.
Ray had meant to go slowly. Romance and flowers, or the equivalent. But Ray had always been better at respecting boundaries than resisting temptation. He laid his hand over Ren's fly, kneading Ren's erection through the cloth, easy as falling off a bike. Ren moaned, his head falling back.
Ray lightly nipped the line of neck now exposed. "You like that?"
Ren made another inarticulate sound, arching into Ray like a cat. With visible effort, he opened his eyes and focused on Ray. "Ray--"
God, it had been ages since anyone had said his name like that. Ray reclaimed his lips, kissing messily, thoroughly, thrusting with his tongue in time with the rocking of Ren's hips. Ren whined against his mouth. Ray squeezed one last time and moved his hand away. Ren made a sound of protest, but Ray needed both hands to undo Ren's belt and unfasten Ren's pants. He eased Ren's cock free and started jacking it, enjoying the full-body shudder the simple motion evoked. The way Ren's hips snapped forward with each stroke. Ray pushed the pants lower out of his way, and his eyes drifted closed as he lost himself to the feeling of Ren's heavy cock sliding in his hand, Ren's tongue now darting in his mouth. Ren's hands settled on him, comfortable weights on his shoulders, his arm a band of warmth around his waist. Wait.
Ray jerked backwards. Two hands on his shoulders and--he looked down--that was a tail. That was definitely a tail. It twitched away from him as Ren belatedly tried to move it out of sight behind himself, and without thinking he grabbed it. Ren froze, the very tip flicking almost nervously. Ray loosened his hold immediately, enough for Ren to loose himself.
"Sorry, is that- did that hurt?"
"No." But Ren's voice was odd, and his face reflected an unreadable mix of emotion.
Ray loosened his grasp even further, and the tail slipped free. Ray watched the swishing appendage for a moment before he looked back up. Ren was watching him, and Ray recognized a large amount of fear in the mix. His eyes softened, and he leaned his weight against Ren again. "It's okay," he murmured, kissing Ren's cheek. His temple. "Don't worry, it's okay."
After a moment, Ren clutched at him, tucked his face into Ray's neck, and shook. Even after he calmed, he kept his face averted. Ray tugged him away from the counter and back into the front room, pulled him down to sit tangled on the couch.
"So. A tail."
He nodded. "I'd meant to tell you. I mean, before we..."
Ray could feel the warmth of the blush and pulled back slightly. Yep, that was a red face. He smiled. "So tell me now."
Ren threw him a frustrated look. "Tail. I have one."
"Good to know," Ray said solemnly.
Ren thwacked his arm, and Ray figured they'd be alright.
"Alright, alright, so we're past telling. Show me?"
A long, tense moment went by before Ren nodded sharply.
He hesitated a moment longer. Then reluctantly, he shifted, and the tail moved back into view. It was about as long as his arm, though much thinner, and was covered in hair--fur?--that lay more-or-less flat and matched Ren's hair in color, though not in length. Ray lightly touched a spot near the tip. It twitched away, leaving behind a fleeting impression of softness. Ren made a frustrated sound, and it twitched back, brushing against Ray's knuckles.
Ray encircled the tail with his fingers. It felt firm, dense with muscle. Not as smooth as it looked, it was almost knobby, like... well, like a spine, which he supposed made sense. He slid his hand down towards the tip, and Ren's breath hitched.
Ray froze. "Sorry."
"No. No, that's fine, Ray." His voice was breathy, but he didn't sound pained, so Ray resumed the motion.
"Can you pick things up with it?"
"Hm?" Ren blinked. "Oh. Not since I was little."
There was a story there, he could feel it, but he decided not to pursue it, subsiding back into quiet.
Ray let the tail slip through his hand. He grasped it again, slightly closer to where it disappeared behind Ren, and repeated the slow slide down to the tip. Then again. He realized that he was, essentially, petting Ren. Embarrassed, he glanced at Ren's face, but... Ren didn't seem to mind. He looked relaxed, slightly unfocused, sort of--
Oh. Ray stilled again, and this time Ren's tail wriggled in his hand. He finished off the stroke, then placed his hand along the line of Ren's jaw, turning his face closer towards him. Lips a bare inch apart, he asked, "Is this okay?"
Ren's yes was a puff of air against his mouth. This time, Ray was determined to go slowly, certain that he'd missed a stop sign earlier. But all he got was yield. Ren's mouth opened to him. Ren melted back into the cushions, drawing him along until Ray lay half atop him. One of Ren's legs was caught between his own, and Ren's hands settled on his back. Green light, if ever he'd been given one.
He continued his earlier exploration of Ren's mouth, swallowing the small noises Ren made. Ren moved constantly beneath him, now pressing his leg more firmly up against Ray's erection, now arching as though he couldn't decide where he wanted, needed, contact most. Ray found himself rolling his hips against Ren, not sure when he started, but pretty certain he was going to be finished if he didn't slow down right now--but Ren growled, grabbed him, pulled him back flush against him, and that was it--too much, enough. Ray spilled over into orgasm, Ren thrusting up against him, until he, too, came with a wordless cry.
Once he'd caught his breath, Ray pushed himself up and made a face. "Canada has something against my clothes."
Ren stirred. "What?"
"Another perfectly good pair of pants, ruined."
Ren pulled him back down, arms wrapping around Ray's back and the tail winding around his leg. "There's a laundry in the basement, and I have an iron. I think we can salvage them."
"Clothing isn't supposed to require a salvage operation," he muttered, and when Renfield laughed, he smiled.
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