Skype Time


It wasn't any skin off Ray's nose when Vecchio went out and bought a fancy-schmancy computer. Vecchio had earned that pension with a bullet, after all, and if he wanted to spend his days downloading porn or playing that Warcrap game Frannie kept talking about, it didn't bother Ray any. Just so long as Vecchio wasn't distracted when Ray and Fraser were around, it was all fine with him.

It was a little bit weirder when Vecchio bought laptops for Ray and Fraser, but what the hell. If it made Vecchio happy, Ray wasn't going to complain. He obediently sat down with Vecchio when the shiny gray rectangle arrived, and let Vecchio show him and Fraser how to use all the software. All Ray was going to do with the thing was play solitaire, anyway. He did spend one day going to porn sites but stopped that right away when he realized that Fraser and Vecchio had started having sex without him. What's the point of downloading dirty pictures, he thought, ripping off his clothes at top speed so he could join in the suckfest on the bed, when it's like I already live in a really good porn movie? And that was the last coherent thought he had for a good long while.

It was a couple of months after the laptops arrived that Ray had to spend three days at a GOAL conference in Dayton. He complained about it, but he didn't get much sympathy. Fraser was all proud of him because it had been Fraser's idea for Ray to become diversity poster boy at the 27 to begin with, and besides, Fraser was working late that week on this consulate project. And Vecchio just grinned when Ray told him about the conference, and said "be sure to bring your laptop."

"Laptop?" Ray had asked. "What the hell do I need my laptop for?"

"So we can talk while you're at the conference," said Ray. "I showed you how to use Skype, didn't I?"

Ray shot Vecchio a look. "Hello?" he said, waving his cell phone. "Unlimited nighttime minutes, here."

"Just bring the laptop," said Vecchio, patiently, and that was the end of that.

So that night, when Ray finally got back to his room at the hotel after a day of feeling really, really uncomfortable (just because he was an out and proud queer cop didn't mean he didn't find it unsettling to be around other uncloseted queer cops), he fired up the laptop. He even had a room with Internet access; Vecchio had made sure of that. It was wireless, too, so he could lean back in bed in his boxers instead of sitting at the tiny desk. Propping the laptop up on his knees, Ray brought up the chat program and clicked on the little green handset icon. There were a couple of rings and then he heard Vecchio's voice.

"Hey, there," said Vecchio. It was absurd how happy Vecchio's voice made Ray feel -- he'd seen him only that morning, and honestly could have called him at any time. "Hang on, I'll conference in Fraser."

"Ray, hello!" said Fraser a moment later. Ray grinned, glad that Fraser and Vecchio couldn't see his sappy expression.

"Okay, a three-way phone call," he said. "I will give credit where it is due, that's a nice feature of this computer talking business."

He heard Vecchio laugh. "That's not why I made you bring your laptop, Luddite Boy," he said. "Hang on a second --" There was the sound of fiddling, and then a window popped up on Ray's screen. A window that showed Vecchio. A second later, another window appeared, this one showing Fraser. Between them, they took up the whole screen.

"What the hell?" Even Fraser looked mildly surprised.

Vecchio just laughed again. "Come on, boys, get with the twenty-first century. It's called video conferencing."

"Can you see me?" asked Ray. He didn't need to hear the answer, though. The gleam in Fraser's eyes and the leer in Vecchio's told him the answer. Where the hell was the camera on this thing, anyway?

"So do you see why I made you take the laptops?" asked Vecchio. He must have pushed his chair away from the computer because suddenly Ray could see more than just his face. Vecchio's whole upper body was visible, in the expensive desk chair he'd bought with the computer. One of Vecchio's hands dropped down into his own lap, rubbing. Ray caught his breath, and Fraser looked -- intrigued? Shocked? Probably both, knowing Fraser. Vecchio looked right at the camera. "Join me?"

God. Could he do this, Ray wondered? Did he dare?

Fraser vanished abruptly from the frame. Ray's own confusion notwithstanding, he was overcome with disappointment that Fraser had apparently chickened out. But wait, here was Fraser right back. "Had to lock the door," he said, and Vecchio nodded. Of course; Fraser had never chickened out at anything in his life, especially not something to do with sex. Sex and Vecchio and Ray. In fact, even now he was moving the laptop back on the desk. There was a weird close-up of Fraser's thumb as he reached up to adjust the camera, and then... oh, fuck.

Vecchio, sprawled back in an expensive desk chair, with one hand slipped into the waistband of his own pants and the other twisted around underneath, rubbing at his balls through the cloth. Fraser, carefully unbuttoning his uniform coat, then his shirt, then his long underwear and circling his own nipples, rubbing and pinching. This was... this was torture.

"Join us, Stanley," said Vecchio as he unzipped his pants.

Fraser gasped a little as he flicked at his nipples. "Yes, Ray, please," he said.

But Ray couldn't have moved the laptop or adjusted the camera if his life depended on it. His eyes were glued in place, staring in awe. He could move his hands, of course -- could do that on autopilot -- so he slipped his right hand down into his boxers and started rubbing himself. He knew he owed Fraser and Vecchio some kind of show, but honestly the most he could manage was to bring his left hand to his mouth and start sucking on his index finger.

Huh. Apparently that was enough, because Vecchio cursed and started shoving off his pants, and Fraser whimpered. God, that was the best sound ever.

Now one of Fraser's hands was down under the desk. The angle was bad, and Ray could barely see, but Fraser's right arm kept jerking up and down while Fraser's left hand was pinching and tugging on both nipples. Vecchio had his pants all the way off (in a crumpled pile on the floor, which was always a sign of Vecchio being really turned on) and was tugging on his own cock, pulling at the foreskin, licking his palm then quickly returning to jacking himself. And Ray, all he could do was watch the best porn movie he'd ever seen in his life. Watch the two hottest guys he knew giving it up over the Internet just for him. His hand on his own dick sped up; Fraser's arm was moving so quickly that the program apparently couldn't cope and instead just showed a blur of little pixelated blocks.

Fraser's eyes fluttered shut and then snapped open again, like he couldn't bear to miss a minute of the show. Ray didn't blame him. This was pretty silent, as phone sex went, although Ray's own moaning must be deafening the other two by now. And Vecchio -- well, Vecchio suddenly slid forward in his chair, spread his legs a little further, and slipped two fingers into his own ass. The hand on Vecchio's cock sped up to match Fraser's pixelated-blur speed, and then a splotch of white emerged from the blur, splashing on Vecchio's pristine gold shirt. Fraser's hand on his nipple clenched suddenly, and Fraser doubled over around his own hand and cried out. And Ray was keening, his arm moving so quickly that the laptop screen shook and the images of Fraser and Vecchio in ecstacy jiggled on the shifting screen.

As Ray's breathing slowed, he pulled his hand out of his boxers and wiped them on the hotel sheets. Have to leave a nice tip for housekeeping, he thought, grinning crazily. He looked at the screen again. Fraser, typically, looked spotless. His shirt and coat were off, and his skin was flushed, but not a hair was out of place to show he'd just been polishing his knob under his consulate desk. But his eyes -- his eyes were fucking glowing. And as for Vecchio, well. I have never looked that smug in my life, thought Ray. At least, not since that time with Fraser, Vecchio, and the spatula. He waited for Vecchio to say something snarky about Fraser and Ray and their technophobic ways.

But as Ray watched, the smug dropped out of Ray's smile, leaving only happy. "Love you," said Vecchio.

"Love you both," said Fraser.

Ray's heart was in his throat and he couldn't say anything. But it was okay, because he knew they could see.