Neither Expose Nor Extinguish by VerushkaKowalski

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Title: Neither Expose Nor Extinguish
For: HYPERfocused
Pairing/Characters: Fraser/Kowalski, Stella Bonasera (CSI:NY) -- all you need to know about CSI:NY is that Melina Kanakaredes, who played Victoria on DS, plays Stella Bonasera on CSI:NY.
Warnings: NC-17
Vidder's/Author's/Artist's Notes:  As this was a rather last-minute pinch hit, I owe BIG HUGE THANK YOUs to my fabulous and amazing betas. I am utterly indebted to the helpful and supportive Lucifuge-5, who held my hand from beginning to end, and also to lovely china_shop and wonderful malnpudl who responded to an eleventh hour request for extra pairs of eyes. Their combined feedback vastly improved this pinch-hit from a barely-begun WIP into what it is now. It literally would not exist without their help. All remaining mistakes are mine alone.


"That breakfast buffet was the only reason to go to that opening address, and it wasn't even good," Ray muttered, looking at the schedule of speakers, seminars, and breakout sessions for the next two days of the conference. He frowned.


"'Proper Use of Investigation and Arrest Statistics,' my ass. More like, sleep-inducing use of statistics and legal mumbo-jumbo to create a total snooze-fest." He yawned and downed the dregs of his coffee, then crushed the paper cup in his hand. "Maybe you didn't hear other guys snoring, Fraser, but I did."


"As you yourself did, Ray. Perhaps the two donuts and as many cheese danishes resulted in sudden, severe hypoglycemia, and a pseudo-narcoleptic episode," Fraser replied mildly. They moved slowly towards the banquet room exit with the rest of the crowd of local, county, state, and federal law enforcement officers.


Ray pointed a threatening finger. "It was your idea to attend the opening speaker and breakfast buffet. I was only there for the snacks, and you can't call that breakfast. They feed us better at CPR class." He shook his head as they followed the crowd out into the hotel lobby. "Well, they feed us about the same, I guess. But CPD doesn't pay as much per officer for CPR classes."


"Well, Ray, there was fruit--"


"Right," Ray smiled, but it was more of a grimace. "But where was the bacon, Fraser? The eggs? The toast and hash browns? Some buffet. I knew we shoulda gotten real food." He reached for a toothpick in his inside jacket pocket, and glanced at Fraser. "I suppose you had some goose jerky."


"Moose. Wild goose is unbelievably tough, nearly inedible. And, no, I had pemmican, made from dried bison pounded into a powder with tallow and berries such as--"


"Moose, goose, whatever," Ray interrupted, grumbling. "I want eggs and bacon."


The crowd thinned as they passed the reception desk and many headed for the revolving doors to go outside and smoke. Fraser liked the gas fireplace with fake logs in the lobby, so he and Ray headed in that direction.


"Ray, I'm sure that--" Fraser stopped.


The same lithe figure. The same sharp smile. The same fine nose and cheekbones. The multitude of curls were shorter and shades lighter now... not black against blinding, blizzard white...


He tried to swallow, but his throat froze. The sudden piercing pain in his heart made Fraser's head throb blindingly. He fell to one knee, clutching his chest. His vision narrowed into a tunnel, with her at the end of it.


"Whoa, whoa, whoa -- Fraser! What's wrong?" Ray knelt at his side, concerned.


"I'm fine, Ray," he gasped through the pain. He could not take his eyes off her, though he struggled to breathe.


"You're not fine, if you..." Ray began worriedly, then trailed off.


He followed Fraser's gaze, his eyes darting from person to person until they lit on a cool, slim brunette.


"What're you -- wait--" Ray stuttered. "--that's not -- is that -- her?" Ray growled.


"Yes," Fraser croaked.


Fraser sensed Ray's agitation, his physical urge to jump across the hotel lobby and tackle the woman they both stared at. The arm that wrapped around his shoulder, however, was firm and resolute.


"Can you make it to that chair?" Ray asked, helping Fraser up.


"Yes, of course." Fraser managed not to stumble through sheer force of will.


"Acting like she belongs here," Ray muttered. "The nerve." He sat Fraser down, then turned.


"Ray... don't."


Ray whirled back. "Why not?" he demanded fiercely. "The woman who -- and since her, you -- and I can't -- and you don't --"


"She's coming," Fraser whispered, the breath sucked from his lungs. He doubled over in the chair, the needle sharp pain in his chest twisting.


"She -- what?" Ray turned back to her as she arrived.


"I'm sorry," she began. "Is your friend all--"


"He's fine," Ray snapped and stood between them.


"I was going to ask if he's -- "


"Ray, wait." The pain in Fraser's chest began to subside.


"--Royal Canadian Mounted Police," Victoria's doppelganger finished.


"You know he is," Ray barked at her.


"Ray, it's not her." Fraser straightened up in the chair as his breath came more easily.


"What? Yes, it is. She--" Ray paused, noticing her badge.


"No, Ray." He swallowed the terrible lump in his throat, as she looked quizzically from one to the other. "The voice is different. It's not her."


"Her, who?" she asked, wary.


"You sure?" Ray asked, still on guard.


"Yes, I am," Fraser told the woman. "Yes, Ray," he said, struggling to his feet. "RCMP, that is," he added to her.


"Just who did you think I was?" she asked cautiously.


"It's not important." Fraser shook his head. "A felon."


"You thought I was a felon?" she said, incredulous and slightly offended.


"Only superficially, and from a distance," Fraser assured her. "As soon as I heard your voice, when you were near, I realized you weren't her." He straightened his posture and inclined his head. "I am Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP, as you've deduced. And you are...?"


In his peripheral vision, Fraser saw Ray's shoulders sag.


After a slight hesitation, she responded. "Detective Stella Bonasera, NYPD." She extended her hand.


Fraser shook it. "This is Detective Ray Kowalski, Chicago PD," he nodded towards Ray. He dropped her hand and wiped his brow.


Detective Bonasera glanced at Ray. The corners of his lips briefly twisted up before returning to a flat, unforgiving line. He chewed the toothpick in his mouth and said nothing. A fine vertical line appeared between her brows as she looked at Ray. The rest of her expression remained suspiciously neutral.


She turned back to Fraser. His pulse quickened despite regaining his composure. Her resemblance to Victoria was unnerving.


"I saw your RCMP uniform," Detective Bonasera explained. "I came over to ask if you would be attending the Inter-agency Cooperation seminar. You know -- FBI, RCMP, DEA, Interpol, cross-jurisdictional task forces."


"Yes, we will be attending, thank you." Fraser gave her a strained smile. "Right, Ray?"


"Right," Ray muttered.


There was an uncomfortable silence.


"Well, I guess I'll see you there tomorrow, then," she said awkwardly.


"Of course," Fraser agreed. "We'll see you there."


She hesitated, glanced quickly at Ray, and then nodded to Fraser before she strode off.


There was a barely audible, "Perfect," from Ray as he turned away. "Stella," he added even more quietly, to himself, but Fraser heard it. "Figures."


Fraser sat back down, drained.


Ray sat in the chair next to him. "You all right now?" he asked.


"Yes, Ray, I'm all right now," Fraser replied.


"Good," Ray answered shortly. He wiped his hands over his face.


"For a moment, I thought I was having a heart attack." Fraser hesitated. "As with an inner ear imbalance, it would have been preferable to what it really was," he added quietly.


"Inner -- what are you talking about?" Ray asked, but he didn't look at Fraser.


"Never mind." His sigh was long and tired, but he didn't elaborate, and Ray didn't question further.


They said nothing for a few moments, Ray fidgeting with the seam of his pants leg. He restlessly shifted in his seat. "I would've called 911 for you."


"I know."


"I just didn't want her to get away," Ray added.


"I know."


"I wanted -- justice. For you. I would've come right back for you."


"I understand, Ray."


Another uncomfortable silence settled between the two men.


Finally, Fraser turned to look at Ray. "What did you mean, 'since her'? I don't what? And you can't what?"


Ray flushed to the roots of his blond-brown spikes of hair. "Nothing," he mumbled, avoiding Fraser's gaze.


"Since her, I don't what?" Fraser insisted gently.


"Nothing. Forget it." Ray shook his head.


"Ray?"


Ray sat stock still, looking resolutely away. "Fraser. Not here. Not now."


He gestured feebly at all the sheriffs, detectives, and feds mingling in small groups in the lobby, paper and plastic cups of coffee in their hands. Here and there women were scattered among the largely masculine crowd. Detective Stella Bonasera had been one of them.


"Later, then?" Fraser asked. He felt his cheeks heat as he added, "Back in our room?"


The strangely wistful look Ray gave him was his only answer. Then Ray looked away again.


"I need some more coffee." He stood abruptly and crossed the lobby to the coffee bar without Fraser.


Somehow, from then on, in each breakout session and seminar they'd registered to take and at lunch, Ray found a third party to wedge into their 'duet.' Occasionally, he found other pairs of partners. He managed not to be alone with Fraser for virtually the entire rest of the day.


~ ~ ~


They left the dining room and parted ways with the two other cops Ray brought to dine with them, partners from Detroit with street-savvy stories similar to Ray's own. Ray then mumbled something about needing a couple drinks in the hotel bar. Fraser took it to mean Ray still wished to avoid him, and would come back to their room after he thought Fraser was asleep.


Fraser felt a sudden, inexplicable compulsion to be as cold as possible. He went back to their room alone, stripped off the serge, and frantically freed himself from his boots, his jodhpurs, and everything else. He turned the faucet in the shower all the way to cold and stepped into it.


He stood there so long, he lost track of time. Every bitterly cold memory -- there were so many -- passed through his mind while he stood there, but the ones that lingered were all about her. Not all of them were cold. But they all ached.


For so long, he had pushed all memories of Victoria down. He'd kept a tight grip on himself, controlling his conscious, waking thoughts. He'd buried them under a tombstone of fear, humiliation, doubt, and regret. The warmth and wonder of Ray Vecchio had helped keep them at bay. Then the appearance of Ray Kowalski had kindled a tiny spark, one Fraser could neither expose nor extinguish.


But seeing Stella Bonasera of the NYPD had loosened Fraser's self-control and his memories of Victoria washed over him now. Despite the frigid water and her ultimately cruel ends, memories of the heat and urgency of being inside her, their tireless lovemaking, thawed the ice that encased his sensual core.


But that was dangerous, Fraser knew. He hadn't yet reconciled his intellectual side with his animal self, and feared he never would. Hibernating, it was safe. Awakened, starvation made it primitive. Recklessly single-minded in pursuit of its desire, it left damage in its wake. Despite the bitter taste of so many memories, arousal was mournfully tempting.


He couldn't turn the faucet any farther to the cold side. He held his erection under the shower's icy water, but it didn't soften, nor did his thoughts cool.


He didn't masturbate. As cold as the water got, his teeth never chattered.


He left the shower in only a towel and put the air conditioning unit on the coldest temperature and the highest output. Still wet, he sat on the carpeted floor, his back against the cool wall.


His arousal ebbed as the air conditioner roared and the temperature dropped. The room darkened as night fell.


Fraser didn't know how long he sat there before a line of light along the floor widened into a wedge at the door. It was Ray returning.


"Fraser? Christ, it's freezing in here --"


Over the sound of the air conditioner, Fraser heard Ray slap the light switch.


The overhead light and the lamps above the beds came on. It was blinding and frigid. That was too much like Fortitude Pass after the blizzard, and Fraser's laugh was short and almost hysterical.


A few strides brought Ray to him. Fraser squinted up at his partner. The smell of bourbon wafted down.


Ray knelt. "You're shivering," he said softly. He reached out, and Fraser's heart leaped--


Ray turned off the air conditioner.


The sudden silence was deafening.


"Please turn off the lights," Fraser asked.


Ray searched his face. "Okay."


He stood and strode away, and then the lights went out again. Fraser's eyes saw bright afterimage spots in the dark. He heard Ray take off his suit jacket and hang it on the back of a chair, and then cautiously cross the room to sit beside him.


His shirt sleeve brushed repeatedly against Fraser's arm as Fraser began to shiver violently. The smell of bourbon was strong and strangely comforting.


"You want a blanket?" Ray asked Fraser, after a beat.


"No," Fraser whispered. He groped for Ray's hand and found it: warm, solid, real.


"Jesus," Ray murmured. "You're freezing." He turned to face Fraser, but the room was quite dark, and Fraser's eyes hadn't adjusted yet. He couldn't see Ray. But he could feel Ray's hand in his. He gripped it.


Fraser brought that hand to his cheek, and then hesitated. There was no resistance, but also no encouragement. Ray was as still as stone. Fraser opened his mouth and his breath hitched. Ray didn't pull back.


He took the first two fingers of Ray's left hand, those elegant, expressive hands, and put them in his mouth. Ray's other hand slowly pulled the back of Fraser's neck until their foreheads pressed together. Fraser shivered and held Ray's fingers in his mouth. The hand on the back of his neck became a wiry arm that slid down his back. It pulled him into an awkward embrace and they sank to the floor together.


The towel he'd wrapped around his waist fell away. Fraser curled against Ray's warmth, and Ray held him. He sucked on Ray's fingers. Feeling Ray's growing arousal calmed him, and slowly, Fraser stopped shivering. When he finally let Ray's fingers slide from his lips, the hand he'd freed stroked his cheek.


"What was that?" Ray whispered tenderly.


Fraser said nothing. He couldn't answer. Erasure, he thought. Ray took his hand and he trembled, not from the cold, now. When he didn't pull his hand or himself away, Ray slowly sucked Fraser's fingers into the warmth and wetness of his mouth.


Fraser became fully erect and shuddered with excitement and trepidation. Before he realized it, he was rhythmically thrusting against Ray's hip, helpless to stop. Ray withdrew Fraser's fingers from his mouth and half sat up. Fraser felt Ray pull away.


But Ray was only unbuttoning his shirt. He yanked it out of his pants and off, throwing it heedlessly aside. The swish of his T-shirt over his head quelled Fraser's momentary dismay. Ray lay down next to him and wrapped his arms around him again, pulling him close, holding him tight. The naked skin of his chest against Fraser's was warm and comforting.


It emboldened Fraser. He moved in Ray's arms until he felt breath on his face. He leaned in but Ray held him off, and they panted, and Fraser couldn't think. His only thought was, Why? He struggled against the firm grip holding him away, bewildered.


"Fraser," Ray said softly, the word a puff of air on Fraser's moistened lips.


"What?" He stopped struggling, confused.


"Let's just be clear about this." Ray's breath was whiskey-dark.


"Clear?" Fraser's thoughts cooled and settled. He doesn't want to.


"I've wanted to do this forever," Ray whispered. "But I -- I don't think you have. I get that seeing her was like a punch in the gut. I get that you need someone to make that go away. I get that we're friends, partners, you trust me. I trust you, too. But this means different things to you than to me. Because we're not doing it for the same reasons."


"We are," Fraser croaked, the news that Ray had wanted to forever  thickening his voice.


"I know you think we are, but we're not. And I'm not blaming you. Okay? And I'm not saying 'no,' either. I'm just saying, this is gonna change things for us. For me. And once we cross this line, I don't think I can go back."


"We are, Ray," Fraser said urgently, voice rising. "It is -- the same reasons. I've wanted to -- that's why I asked earlier what you meant when you said I don't, and you can't -- I don't what? And you can't what? This, Ray. It's this, isn't it? It has been. For some time."


He clutched Ray too tightly, and tried to loosen his fingers.


"Yeah, on my side," Ray admitted. "But I don't know about y--"


"Yes," Fraser interrupted. "Yes, my side, too. It has been. Ray, it has. I have wanted this."


"Okay, okay," Ray's acquiescence was both amused and rueful. "Just giving you fair warning. You see me outside your window, you find me following you like a puppy, don't say I didn't warn you."


Fraser paused. "You're humouring me, aren't you."


"'Course. I'm not stupid enough to let this opportunity slip by. I'll take what I can get."


Fraser heard the self-deprecation in Ray's voice, felt Ray's breath on his lips and cheek, and faltered, frustrated.


"That's not what this is, Ray," he insisted.


"I'm not saying 'no,' Fraser," Ray murmured.


The desire in his voice gave Fraser goosebumps. The grip holding Fraser off eased, and he sank down on Ray.


"Oh, Ray," he breathed, undone and yearning.


He inhaled Ray's breath, felt Ray beneath him, hot in his arms. He pressed his mouth deliberately against Ray's, and slipped a thigh between his legs, feeling Ray's erection under his own hip.


The kiss, clumsy and inexpert as Fraser began it, quickly became fierce and passionate. In moments, Ray pulled Fraser tightly down on him, thrusting aggressively up against him, kissing Fraser, tasting him.


Fraser's few sexual experiences and memories converged into a maelstrom of wordless need as he responded. Physically, theoretically, he had control, being on top. But Ray drove the action. In their moving and rubbing against each other, they soon rolled over on the floor and Ray gained the upper hand.


"Christ, Fraser," Ray panted, when they could tear their mouths apart. "The carpet's giving me rug burns. Let's get on the bed."


"All right," Fraser agreed, but before he even finished replying, Ray had a strong hand on his upper arm. As he urged Fraser up from the floor and onto the nearest bed, he quickly toed off his shoes.


They'd gotten a room with two queen beds, courtesy of the CPD and early registration. Ray had not turned down the bed linens. There was an ocean of slippery nylon comforter beneath them. Fraser had never been in such a large bed before. Ray fell upon him.


They kissed roughly, teeth knocking as they rocked against one another, pressing their erections against each others hips, legs entwined. Fraser's mouth slid off Ray's to his neck. His lips on Ray's shoulder became a bite as he thrust against him, eyes shut tight, mind unfocused and simply wanting. One of his hands slid down to grasp Ray's hip. It insinuated itself between them, cupping Ray's hardness, stroking him. Ray groaned but slid a hand down to catch Fraser's wrist and stop him.


"Fraser--"


"Ray--" he gasped into Ray's shoulder.


"Another time--" Ray panted.


"Wha..?"


"It's too much..." Ray groaned, and yanked both their hands out from between them. He rolled completely over on Fraser and pinned down Fraser's wrist. Then he humped Fraser's hip wildly until he came in his pants, his mouth rough on Fraser's neck. He released Fraser and rolled onto his back, panting. In a few seconds, however, he dragged Fraser back on top of him. He cupped Fraser's buttocks, urging Fraser's thrusts against him. Fraser felt the wet spot as he rubbed his own erection against the warm folds of Ray's pants.


"I'm not wearing pants--" he fretted.


"Come on me," Ray whispered. "I want you to."


Fraser moved more frantically against Ray, but it wasn't enough. He instinctively pulled back and flipped the unresisting Ray onto his stomach beneath him.


"Yeah," Ray breathed. "Yes."


Fraser settled back down on Ray, his erection in the clothed cleft of Ray's buttocks. He slid his arms around Ray, gripping him tightly around the waist and chest for leverage. Ray grasped handfuls of nylon comforter on either side of their heads.


Thrusting and rocking into the warm, covered cleft of Ray's buttocks, Fraser finally let go. He shuddered and gasped over Ray's shoulder. The tight, hot spurts shut out all thoughts of everyone and everything else except Ray beneath him, murmuring encouragement:


"Yeah, Fraser. Come for me. Come on me. Give it to me. Good. Want it. Yeah. Come. "


When he stopped shaking, Fraser relaxed on Ray. Small aftershocks made his whole body twitch. His cheek and ear were pressed just above Ray's shoulder blade, and he heard the soothing rhythm of Ray's heartbeat. When he realized he was a dead weight on Ray, he slid off. Ray's right hand reached out and groped for him sleepily. He threw a possessive leg over Ray and pulled him into his arms. Wrapped around him, Fraser's breathing slowly synchronized with Ray's, and they drifted into slumber.


~ ~ ~


At about four AM, Fraser woke to the sound of Ray in the bathroom. He felt a chill and sat up only long enough to get fully under the covers of the large bed. He saw Ray's silhouette in the light at the bathroom doorway. When the light clicked off, he murmured,


"Come here."


Ray came and lay down beside him. Fraser threw an arm and a leg over him, but found clothing in his way.


"Take off your pants," he demanded sleepily. "I want to feel your skin against mine."


"Oh." Fraser gave him room, and Ray quickly removed his pants and dropped them over the side of the bed.


"Good," Fraser murmured, pulling Ray back to him, throwing an arm and a leg over him again. He pressed his nose into the hair at the back of Ray's head and inhaled deeply. The scents of skin and Ray's day old hair gel mingled into a comforting melange of home.


Ray turned in his grasp until he lay on his side, spooned by Fraser. Then they both dozed off again.


~ ~ ~


Fraser woke to the warm, slow movement of Ray in his arms. He blinked in the dim room, and turned his head. Cracks of light were visible around the light-blocking drapes. He looked back at the bedside table. The alarm clock-radio said it was 6:15AM. They'd overslept seventy-five minutes. Had they not set the alarm? Had they set it and slept through it? The former, he guiltily concluded.


Ray moved again and burrowed closer to Fraser's warmth.


Fraser stiffened; something about this felt uncomfortable, but familiar.


Ray turned again in his arms until he was lying on his back, with Fraser's arm across his chest, and his leg across his thighs. Fraser's mouth was by Ray's ear. He realized that both he and Ray were aroused again.


Ray yawned luxuriously and stretched beneath Fraser, opening his eyes. He turned to look at the bedside table before he looked at Fraser. Fraser held his breath, uncertain. But Ray broke into a sheepish smile.


"Slept in a little, huh," he murmured.


"Seventy five minutes," Fraser replied cautiously.


"Says you," Ray replied, yawning again. "It's only fifteen minutes for me."


"I have to get up early for Diefenbaker," Fraser quietly justified his five AM inner alarm clock.


" 'Cept he's back at the Consulate in Chicago with Turnbull and the Ice Queen."


"You're saying...?"


"I'm saying the crappy breakfast buffet, with another boring-ass speech by some super-duper paper-pushing law-enforcement big-wig, is in two hours and fifteen minutes. And the actual first seminars don't begin for, like, three hours."


Fraser blinked.


"Meaning, we got time." Ray slid a warm hand down Fraser's chest. "Why so stiff? Pull a muscle?" The libidinous tone he used made Fraser suddenly picture him as a pirate.


"You don't want the continental breakfast?" he prevaricated.


"Do you?"


"Well..." he hesitated.


"Fraser, we can order better breakfast than they're going to give us. We can order better coffee."


"True," Fraser smiled.


"Sorry for the morning breath," Ray said, and then kissed him hard. He rubbed his rough morning stubble against Fraser's.


"It's nothing."


"So whaddaya say, fool around and then order room service? Or order room service, then fool around? Either way, I want eggs. And, pretty soon, to use the can."


"I..." Fraser blushed. "Ray..." He tightened his grasp on his warm, expressive partner.


Ray let Fraser hold him in place. Then he turned and pushed his buttocks back against Fraser's erection distractingly. "You're kinda 'take charge'-ish when you wanna be. Actually, whenever I'm not. Shouldn't be surprised, I guess."


Fraser felt his heart throb and a strange sensation of warmth and expansion in his chest.


"I..." he began, and fell silent.


Ray slipped a hand up and gently grasped Fraser's forearm. He said nothing, and didn't move.


"I..." Fraser started again. "Ray, I -- this isn't what you thought last night. Yes, seeing Victoria -- I thought -- was a, a shock for me. It was extremely painful," he admitted.


"But," he added stubbornly, "I did ask you what you meant when you said, Since her, you don't, and I can't -- I did ask you that, Ray. I asked because I truly wanted to know. I've -- perhaps you've noticed, in the time we've been partners, that I don't -- 'stick my neck out' as you do. Romantically, I mean.


"But I -- I don't know how to do it," he admitted. "I don't even know how to do this, now. I want to stay in bed, but it seems wrong to stay in bed, naked, s-s-sensual, when we should be getting ready, to go to the breakfast address."


Ray snorted. "That's optional."


"Is it?"


"Fraser, you may be a morning person. But a lotta cops work the night shift their whole lives until they became detectives, and the day shift is a big adjustment. Those guys consider the breakfast address optional. Sure, you gotta be at the seminars and breakout sessions your department paid for... but the continental breakfast, tasty as all the donuts and danishes are, not really."


Fraser hesitated. "So it's okay to miss the breakfast address?"


"Absolutely. The first real seminar is at nine or nine thirty, I gotta check. And now we've been babbling for fifteen minutes so we only have two hours left to fool around. And if you'd really rather go to the breakfast address, this is gonna be your first lesson in Hedonism According to Ray, starting with Ray Ties Fraser To The Bed, Blows Him, and Won't Let Him Come For A Really Long Time."


Fraser smiled and nuzzled the back of Ray's neck. "Don't you have to use the facilities?"


"If I do, my morning wood will go down."


"I can remedy that."


Ray laughed. "Fraser, you dog."


Fraser felt his face heat.


Ray turned to face him. "I like it, it's a whole new side of you, but I bet it was there all along. I bet you know a lot more than you're letting on. You learn a lot from books, right?" Ray nuzzled him and tucked his face into Fraser's neck. He slipped his hands down between them to cup and stroke Fraser's erection. "And I learn by doing. So we're pretty well set."


"Ray--" Fraser grabbed Ray's wrists and held them for a moment. "This isn't just a reaction to seeing -- her. It's real. Like you, I've wanted to, forever, too."  


Ray drew his face out from the nook between Fraser's neck and shoulder, and looked at him soberly.

 

"I get it. I didn't really believe it last night, though."

 

"I know."

 

"I believe you now," Ray added, his eyes searching Fraser's in the lightening room. He still held Fraser's cock loosely, but didn't move his hands, obeying Fraser's grasp. "Besides, if you ever did pursue anyone, it wouldn't be as crass as me. Didn't expect it to be invisible, though. Well, maybe not invisible. That buddy-breathing thing -- that was pretty obvious."

 

Fraser's cheeks warmed again. "You're not crass, Ray. You're courageous."

 

"I don't know about that. But you can't get in the game if you don't get off the bench."

 

"Very true," Fraser replied, releasing Ray's wrists.


Ray slowly stroked him and they looked at each other. Fraser felt much more than naked: intimately exposed, terribly aroused.


"Damn, you're rock hard," Ray murmured. He held Fraser's erection tightly at the base with one hand, and pulled slowly with the other, from base to tip. Then he did it again. And again.


"It's been--" Fraser gasped -- "a v-very, very long time."


"It was just last night," Ray teased quietly. He tightened his hand and increased his speed. Fraser's excitement grew with Ray's caresses.


"Before then," Fraser groaned.


"You must wanna play a lot, since you been benched so long."


Ray's strokes were swifter, and now he didn't just pull. He moved one hand loosely up and down, masturbating Fraser, and cupped his balls with the other. It drew Fraser into an addictive rhythm; he thrust into Ray's snug grip.


This state of sexual arousal wasn't unfamiliar, a far away, detached part of Fraser's mind reflected. He masturbated daily, having long ago read that regular sexual function correlated with a lower risk of male reproductive disorders and cancers. But that was perfunctory, rarely indulgent.


This, the touch of another, urging him on, was deliriously rare. The intense thrill of someone else's -- someone else's! -- hands on him, skin to skin, freed his senses. His pleasure spiked, aching, then recoiled into a tense, but endurable, ecstasy. Snaked around the core of him, laying in wait, it felt unpredictable and precarious, as if it might suddenly flare, and his control would slip -- or as if he could go on like this for hours. The thin line between the two narrowed with every move of Ray's hands, and drew Fraser's focus down to a smaller and smaller point: Ray's ardent touch, and his own fervent response.


"I should like to p-play as often as p-possible," Fraser stammered. "But only on one t-team."


Ray leaned close and paused.


"Mine," he breathed, and then devoured Fraser's mouth.


Then he slid down in bed. Fraser clutched his shoulders, unsure what to expect. By the time it dawned on him, in a delayed reaction, what Ray meant to do, the tip of his erection was sucked into the hot velvet of Ray's mouth. Hot velvet became tight, wet suction, became sweet friction. The burst of sensation and the stunning thought Ray's mouth pushed Fraser over the edge.


His senses spilled from lucidity into wordless bliss, beyond control. He bucked helplessly, rapture jerking out of him into Ray's yielding mouth; he soared, untethered, a split second, a timeless moment. The distant, staccato rhythm of his ejaculation was a cold, clear stream joyfully crashing over a rocky precipice. Then he fell back into himself, snapped back from the end of a hedonistic leash.


Sweat trickled from his hairline; his chest heaved. Colourful sparks behind his eyelids swelled, fragments of his soul radiating towards Ray. His mouth was dry from panting, the head of his penis hypersensitive from Ray's convulsive swallows. Tight in the flesh of Ray's shoulders, his fingers' feral grasp drew the reality of Ray into Fraser's private, protected world.


Dazed, he felt movement. Skin slid against his thighs, his stomach, his chest. Ray's luscious mouth, and the faint, slightly bitter, aftertaste of himself in it, made him tremble anew. He felt equal parts apprehensive, exultant, conquered, and moved. Fraser savoured morning-sex-semen-Ray and inhaled their mingled scent -- especially Ray's new, intimate, animal scent -- the better to fix this moment forever in him, as only taste and scent could.

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8 Comments

malnpudl said:

That was some gloriously angsty-sweet hotness. Mmmmmmmm.

hyperfocused said:

Dear Writer,

I am sorry to find this so late, but not at all sorry to find such a warm, fiercely loving, edge of my seat story. I was really hoping for a cool walk on or crossover story, and using Stella (!) Bonasera was brilliant and unexpected.

Thank you (kindly) so much!

Lucifuge5 said:

Very, very original and funny and sexy. :)

omens Author Profile Page said:

The bickering and the half-sentences and Fraser remaking his Victoria story!! \o/ "I wanted -- justice. For you. I would've come right back for you." *wibble*

also: super hot and solid Fraser pov! :D

bluebrocade said:

Awesome. Love the crossover.

V, this was a very well done story. I love that it takes seeing Victoria (or a reasonable facsimile of her) to get Fraser to open up to Ray. But once he does...

Yeah, this was a good one. Thanks!

azamiko Author Profile Page said:

^^ Sweet. Kinda wish we could see them meet Stella again...

Johnny Cole said:

Exceptionally enlightening cheers, I do believe your readers would definitely want even more well written articles such as this carry on the excellent work.

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This page contains a single entry by agent202 published on December 23, 2009 2:06 PM.

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