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A lot of things had happened all at once near the end there; Rhoda Currant had knocked a table full of her illegal powders onto Fraser, Ray had dodged the table and tackled her around the waist, and all hell had broken loose when backup finally showed up. Rhoda's three goons were all down; when the uniforms came over to get Rhoda cuffed and out of there, Ray scrambled to his feet and ran over to Fraser, pulling the table off him.
"Fraser? Frase!" Christ, he was covered with the stuff--pink and blue and white powders, a little bit of purple--or was that just the pink and blue powders mixing?
Fraser's eyes were wide, his breathing shallow. He was looking straight up at the ceiling, propped up on one elbow, and it didn't look like he realized Ray was there at all.
Ray reached over and grabbed him by the tunic. "Fraser!" he yelled. "You in there, buddy? Talk to me."
"I'm--" Fraser managed. He licked his lips, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. "--all right," he panted, "Ray."
"I think we need to get you to an ambulance. C'mon." Ray slipped his hand under Fraser's arm, careful not to touch or inhale any of the powder, and helped Fraser to his feet.
Fraser groaned as he stood up, and as soon as he was upright, he pulled carefully away from Ray. He had a dazed look on his face, and he licked his lips again, still breathing kind of quick and funny. He was starting to go red at the collar, and the color was moving up into his cheeks.
Ray glanced down at the table. "Do we know what any of that shit was?"
After a moment, Fraser licked his lips again and looked down at the mess on the floor. "I believe," he said--still panting, Jesus, what the hell had he been exposed to?-- "some of it had stimulative properties. And... other things. If you'll excuse me--"
Fraser was starting to head--slowly, haltingly--out the door. Ray followed right on his heels, and when they got outside, put his hand on Fraser's arm again and started dragging him toward one of the ambulances.
"Ray--" Fraser jerked back. Ray whirled around and raised his eyebrows; Fraser sighed and dropped his head, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "What I want... more than anything... is a shower. Perhaps... you could--" Christ, he was still panting, still having to fight to get words out. "--take me back... to the Consulate?"
Ray frowned. "You don't think we oughta have someone take a look at you first?"
"I sincerely doubt--" Fraser grimaced, eyes closing. He licked his lips again before going on, and Ray wondered if that was such a good idea; there might've been powder stuck to his lips, maybe he was just making it worse. "--there's anything to be... done about this... except--wait for the... effects to wear off." He was starting to shiver. "Please, Ray."
"Yeah, I--okay," Ray said quietly. He reached out to touch Fraser's hand, real gentle, but Fraser gasped and pulled away, flinching. "Okay. Come on."
He took Fraser back to the Goat and opened the door for him; Fraser got in and all but collapsed on the seat. Ray closed the door, ran around to the driver's side, and got in himself. He started the car up and then looked over at Fraser; Fraser was leaning against the passenger door, still gasping.
"Fraser, if you can't breathe--"
"It isn't that," Fraser mumbled. "I'm--really quite all--I'm really quite all right, Ray," he said, growling out the words. Ray almost jumped; fuck, that wasn't a voice he'd heard coming out of Fraser's throat before, and he'd heard Fraser speaking six different languages and trying to emulate throat-singing. Throat-singing had never given Ray a hard-on, though, and this--that growly voice--it really, really had. Ray shifted in his seat, hoping it wasn't too obvious--but then again, Fraser didn't look like he was in any condition to notice anything at all. The guy was anything but fine, but he said he wasn't having any trouble breathing, and knowing Fraser, if something serious were going on, he'd be explaining exactly what respiratory problems were causing him to pass out right up until the moment he hit the ground.
"You promise me you'll tell me if I need to get you to the hospital," Ray insisted, buckling up and slipping the key into the ignition.
"Yes, Ray," Fraser growled. "Home. Please. Now."
Fuuuuck. It was going to be hard--ha, hard, hardy-ha-ha--driving home if Fraser kept talking like that. He gave Fraser a quick once-over and nodded. "Okay. Can you get your seat belt on?"
Fraser glanced up as if he'd never heard of seat belts before, which was a kick; usually Fraser was the one insisting Ray wear his. He struggled with it, trying to get the latch over to the buckle, but when Ray reached out to give him a hand, Fraser shoved himself back against the passenger door, shaking his head.
"I appreciate it," he said--and God, he was still growling. It was probably some kind of side effect of the drugs, which meant it was wrong, wrong, fucking wrong for the sound of his voice to be going straight to Ray's cock. "But please--just..." Fraser closed his eyes and dropped his head back against his headrest, panting for breath for a few seconds. "Please just be patient," he whispered.
And, okay, the growl had gone from his voice, but now he sounded breathless and winded, like he might sound after an afternoon of good dirty sex, and that image wasn't helping Ray out, either. The line of Fraser's throat as he tilted his head back, the way his mouth was still open, the way his lips were wet and shiny from how much he'd been licking them...
Jesus Christ, get a grip. Yeah, okay, okay, Ray maybe had a thing for Fraser, maybe had for a while, but it wasn't usually this bad. Of course, Fraser didn't usually look like that, either...
After a few seconds, Fraser pulled himself together enough to get the seat belt fastened, and he straightened up, licking his lips one more time and looking straight out the windshield. "Ray--"
"I'm going, I'm going," Ray said, starting the car up. Fraser let out a soft gasp, and when Ray looked over at him, his eyes were closed and his lips were parted. "Fraser--"
"I'm fine," Fraser said softly. "Please, just--just drive, Ray."
Ray clenched his teeth and nodded, and he got them out on the road. It would've been nice if the roads had been better; the bumpy pavement and the potholes were hell on the suspension, not to mention that every time they hit one, Fraser gasped. Hurting? Ray wondered, but no, no, Fraser had sworn he'd tell Ray if it was something like that.
"Sorry," Ray muttered. "The roads are--"
Fraser let out a strangled noise and let his head fall back on the headrest again, and now he was--fuck! He was moaning, he was gritting his teeth and panting hard, there was sweat beading up at his hairline. Ray's jaw dropped as he looked at Fraser, because for a second he'd wondered if Fraser was just being stoic and this really was pain, but--uh, no, Ray had seen enough horny guys on the verge of orgasm to recognize the look of it when he saw it on Fraser.
Ray jerked the wheel sideways, pulled into the first abandoned driveway he saw--industrial park, okay, nobody here, none of the parking lot lights on--and shoved the car into park. Fraser clenched both fists and moaned, and kept moaning, throat straining, eyes shut tight, hips... Jesus Christ, his hips were jerking against the seat belt, and he was--under the tunic it was hard to tell, but all the signs pointed to Fraser having one hell of an orgasm, and Ray stared at him in shock, so hard himself he could barely breathe.
It lasted a while--long enough for Ray to look around, hope no one was seeing this. But since they'd ended up in an industrial park, there was nobody nearby; the occasional car went past behind them, but nothing else. Fraser was still gasping and grunting and clenching his fists tightly, still shaking and sweating and breathing hard. In his whole life Ray had never come like that, and he was caught between being desperately jealous of Fraser and just plain desperate.
And worried; there was a little worry in there, too. This wasn't normal; it had to be because of the drug cocktail at the Currant house. But as Fraser finally started to slow down and catch his breath, Ray breathed a little easier, too. He'd been wondering if it was ever going to stop.
Fraser was flushed bright red, almost as red as his uniform, and he kept his eyes closed even after he'd started breathing normally again. He licked his lips and swallowed and whispered, hoarsely, "I'm so sorry, Ray--"
"I--" Ray's voice didn't just break, it shattered; he had to clear his throat a couple of times just to keep talking. "You don't have to be sorry. It's the drugs, right?"
"Yes, I'd have to say it is," Fraser said. He sounded a little more normal than he had until now, if also a little woozy. Not that Ray could blame him; if he'd come like Fraser just had, he'd have been out of commission for a while, unable to form words at all.
"You gonna be okay now?"
Fraser looked down at himself and grimaced--not that Ray could blame him for that, either; coming in your pants sucked. "I..." He reached up and rubbed at his eyebrow, and God, that was such an ordinary gesture from him, but Ray could see how lost he was now, how painful this was for him. "I can't go back to the Consulate like this."
"You want me to take you back to my place?" Shit. Way to be sensitive, you fucking idiot. He hadn't meant--but he had; part of him meant exactly that. And Fraser whipped his head around; Fraser looked at him, pupils totally blown, eyes darker than Ray had ever seen them. "I mean--you can have all the privacy you need until this wears off."
Fraser stared at Ray for a while, and slowly, very, very fucking slowly, licked his lips again. Ray shivered; if Fraser kept looking at him like that, Ray was going to be the next one going off in his pants. His whole car stank of sex now, in a way it hadn't since--well, a while, Ray had to admit--and worse than that, it was Fraser's sex-stink, Fraser's sweat and Fraser's come and the slight wet-wool smell of Fraser's tunic and uniform trousers. This was exactly what it would've smelled like in the car if Ray had ever gotten up the nerve to offer Fraser a handjob or a blowjob on one of their stakeouts, and if by some miracle Fraser had said--
"Yes, please."
Ray jerked upright; he'd gotten distracted and started fucking fantasizing. That wasn't yes, please to anything but the offer of Ray's apartment and some privacy in which to wait this out. Ray took his eyes off Fraser and stared grimly at the road as he got them out of the industrial park and started taking them home.
Surely to God the rest of the ride would be easier on Fraser; surely after coming that hard, for that long, he wouldn't be up for anything for a few hours at least. It wasn't like he was sixteen or anything, and even if Fraser had always been an overachiever in almost every circumstance, Ray couldn't imagine he'd have trouble making it the rest of the way back to Ray's apartment.
He was wrong. He was really, really wrong. After about a mile of broken road and shitty pavement--and fuck, Ray would have gotten onto a better street if there'd been one, but not only was this the best they were going to do in this area, he knew full well that looking for a better side street would just waste time--Fraser started shifting in his seat.
"You okay there, buddy?" Ray asked quietly.
"I would be more okay if I weren't--well." Fraser rubbed his palm across his face. "I'm afraid I made quite a mess of myself."
Ray bit down on his lower lip; did Fraser think Ray couldn't smell it from here? Maybe not; Fraser's nose was a lot better than Ray's most of the time. Maybe he thought if Ray couldn't smell the difference between cotton-polyester and cotton-lycra, he wouldn't catch on that Fraser was pretty much stuck to himself with come over there.
"Dear God," Fraser muttered, head bent down, eyes closed tight. Ray tried not to look at him, tried to give him the privacy he deserved--tried, for the love of God, to keep his eyes on the road--but as Fraser started shifting and squirming in his seat, Ray had to tighten both hands on the steering wheel to keep from doing the same.
Fraser was starting to pant now, and he wiped his palms on his pants, digging his fingers into the fabric. "Ray, I--Christ! Ray, I can't--"
"It's okay," Ray said, forcing himself to look straight ahead. "It's okay, Fraser--do whatever you need to do, man, it's fine."
"I can't--public place, indecent... exposure, I can't--"
"Totally abandoned neighborhood, dead of night," Ray countered. "Unless you can wait twenty minutes until we're home--"
"Twenty minutes. God." Fraser took several trembling breaths and shook his head. "Ray, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I--"
"Stop being so goddamn noble and just--" Ray gritted his teeth, breathed out hard through his nose. "You're hurting over there--"
Fraser groaned and finally reached under his tunic; Ray stopped breathing altogether, listening, trying damn hard not to so much as look out of the corner of his eye. He heard the quiet rasp of a zipper and then a muffled whimper from Fraser, and a second later, a kind of groan that Ray had made a whole lot back in high school--the groan of finally getting out of pants that had been tight all night long and the knowledge that relief was just a quick jerk away.
It wasn't quick with Fraser, though. The groan only lasted a few seconds; after that, Fraser was panting, making soft pained sounds and shifting in his seat again. It was too much temptation for Ray to stand; he glanced over, licking his lips without even thinking about what he was doing, but Fraser's eyes were closed, anyway--he wasn't going to see Ray licking his lips or watching him.
Ray had figured Fraser's tunic might pretty much cover everything, and he was right about that, mostly--but he could see the motion underneath it, Fraser's hand moving up and down, slowly... and getting faster and faster as--fuck, red light! Screw it, nobody around--Ray floored the gas and ran the red. Fraser didn't even notice, he was so intent on jacking himself; he was licking his lips now, panting openmouthed with every stroke, and as Ray watched, he brought his left hand over to--Jesus, cup his cock and catch the come, because he was coming again, and it was just like the last time, loud throaty moans and whimpers and spasm after spasm that drew the whole thing out for minutes, really fucking long minutes.
They were getting closer and closer to home, thank God, thank God. One more trip around the bend for Fraser and Ray was going to have to whip it out and beat off here in the car, and it was a bad, bad idea to beat off while driving.
Fraser had all but collapsed in his seat, but both of his hands were palms-up on his lap; apparently in his post-orgasm fog, Fraser wasn't worrying about hiding the evidence from Ray. Instead, he was concerned about keeping Ray's upholstery from getting stained, or something, and maybe keeping his uniform as tidy as possible--but fuck, all Ray could think about was the way Fraser still had his hands sticky with come, and how badly he wanted to lick Fraser's hands clean.
He reached up and dragged his hand through his hair; home soon, home real fucking soon. He glanced over at Fraser one more time. "Frase?"
Fraser didn't answer; he was breathing shallowly again, his head against the headrest, his throat working as he swallowed and licked his lips and swallowed some more. Ray grunted and shifted in his seat--he was not adjusting himself no matter how uncomfortable he was, no way; he didn't trust his hands within a mile of his dick right at the moment. He kept driving.
At Ray's apartment, Ray pulled into his parking space. The light from the back side of the building was on, but all the blinds were closed, and no one else was in the parking lot. Small favors. Ray glanced over at Fraser, who was staring down at his hands in dismay.
"I got rags in the trunk," Ray said softly. "Hang tight and I'll get you one."
"That would be--greatly appreciated, Ray, thank you," Fraser murmured. He closed his eyes again and tilted his head back, and Ray booked it out of the car; he really, really did not need to be in a parked car with Fraser when Fraser looked like that.
He wiped his palms off on his jeans as he moved around to the trunk; Christ, at this point even he was sweating. And he didn't have the excuse of being drugged--this was pure, one-hundred-percent old-fashioned lust, the lust he'd been fighting off since he'd got the assignment and seen Fraser in the flesh. Having to watch Fraser get off twice just during the car ride home was taxing Ray's self-control pretty fierce; he opened the trunk, grabbed out a pair of the cleanest oil rags he had, and slammed the trunk with a lot more force than was really necessary, just to make sure Fraser knew he was coming. He went back to the passenger side, where he opened the door and offered Fraser the rags.
"Thank you," Fraser said, taking them and doing his best to clean up. His hands came mostly clean; Ray looked away as Fraser reached underneath the flaps of his tunic. After a moment, Fraser groaned and pushed himself out of the car; he stumbled as he stood, leaning back against the GTO like he could barely keep himself upright.
"You need a hand, Fraser?"
Fraser's head came up, and his eyes narrowed; he looked at Ray and, for just a second, bared his teeth. Ray took a step back, because holy fuck--Fraser had this look on his face like yes, he most definitely did want a hand, thank you kindly; he wanted a hand, or a mouth, or an ass, or whatever the hell was available, and Ray was right there.
But as soon as Ray took that step back, the look faded off Fraser's face, and he went a little pale. "I'm sorry," Fraser said. His voice was back to that low, growling sound he'd started to develop in the car, and Ray swallowed hard, trying not to let on what that voice was doing to him. Jesus. "I didn't mean to--Ray, perhaps you'd better take me to a hotel; I'm not... I'm not feeling myself at all..."
"You don't have to go to a hotel, Fraser," Ray said. "You think I'm just gonna leave you alone while you're like this?"
Fraser actually laughed, briefly. "I believe you're going to have to."
"No, I mean--I'm not gonna abandon you. What if something happened?"
Fraser sighed and nodded. He let his head drop for a moment, and after he'd rubbed at his eyebrow for a few seconds, he looked up and steeled himself. "If you wouldn't mind helping me inside--I wouldn't ask, but I'm not certain I can walk very well on my own."
"Yeah, I kinda figured that out when you had to take a breather after getting out of the car," Ray said dryly. "C'mon, buddy, let's get you upstairs."
"Stairs," Fraser said. He set his jaw, and with a determined, shuttered look on his face, pushed away from the car.
Ray came over and got under Fraser's arm, wrapping an arm around Fraser's waist. Fraser immediately leaned closer to him and rested his weight on Ray, and Ray started moving them toward the apartment building's door.
They made it about a dozen steps before Fraser was panting, throat working as he swallowed, and when Ray got them in through the front door, he had to rotate them to get them through the door sideways. Fraser responded by burying his face in Ray's neck and inhaling, once, deeply.
Ray clutched at Fraser's waist, and Fraser found some leftover reserve of strength--he slid his arm off Ray's shoulders and grabbed Ray's shirt in both hands, pushing him forward. Ray stumbled into the entryway, and Fraser pivoted with him, a half-turn and then bam, Ray was up against the wall. Fraser was--Jesus--hard and hot, and he smelled like sweat and come. He pushed up against Ray, shoving his thigh between Ray's, and so much for pretending this was just buddies--Ray was hard, too, and he couldn't help groaning.
But still--the hallway, not even up the stairs yet. Ray tried to push Fraser back, and even the slightest effort got Fraser's attention. Fraser backed off immediately, blinking several times and then zeroing in on Ray's shirt. "The powder--I've contaminated you! Ray, we need to get your clothes off--"
For all the times Ray had imagined Fraser saying exactly those words, he'd never pictured them coming out quite like that. He blinked down at his shirt; there was a light dusting of blue and pink on it, but he didn't feel any different.
"Upstairs," Fraser said. Ray wouldn't have thought it was possible for Fraser to sound more urgent than he already had, but he was grabbing at Ray's arm, trying to drag him along. Ray nodded, and they went up the stairs together, stumbling and leaning on each other.
As soon as they got inside, Fraser started ripping pieces of his uniform off--lanyard first, then the Sam Browne, and while in Ray's fantasies Fraser had always been neat about those things, in reality he was flinging pieces right and left, letting the Sam Browne drop to the ground as he moved on to his tunic and the buttons down the front of it. Ray stood there for a second in shock, just staring. Fraser blinked at him.
"Ray, your shirt--before it gets worse--"
"What? Oh--" Ray shrugged out of his holster and pulled the t-shirt off over his head. He looked at it, afterwards; part of him was tempted to get his face close and take a deep whiff. Before he could convince himself not to do it, Fraser grabbed the shirt out of his hands.
"You should shower," Fraser said.
"You should go first," Ray countered, looking Fraser up and down. Fraser had managed to get his tunic off and the suspenders off of his shoulders, and his uniform pants were, Christ, messier than Ray had figured they'd be. Ray licked his lips before he even realized he was doing it.
"You have been exposed," Fraser growled, and for a second, he had that look on his face again--the one he'd had when he was leaning against the side of the GTO, the one he'd gotten again just before he pushed Ray into the wall. But he closed his eyes and took a deep breath and grunted, and he clutched Ray's shirt in his hands. "Please. Please. Go shower off."
"Fraser--"
"I can smell you," Fraser said, eyes still closed. "I can--I can smell what you're thinking, and it isn't--I don't think I can--please, Ray."
Ray gaped at him for a second--God, he hoped Fraser couldn't smell what he was thinking all the time. But once he could move again, he headed for the bathroom, no more arguing.
When he got out of the shower, Fraser was sitting on the couch; Ray could just see the top of his head over the back of it. His tunic, uniform pants, boots and socks were all heaped on the floor near the entryway; that left his henley and his boxers, which were--which were lying across the arm of the couch. Not on Fraser.
Fraser was busy, not that Ray was surprised. And right now, the appropriate, non-sleazy thing to do would probably be to sneak past Fraser, hit the bedroom, give Fraser his privacy for the few minutes it'd take him to get off.
But Ray's cock was already tenting his towel--so much for the shriveling effect of a cold shower--and his mouth was dry, thinking of Fraser on his couch, touching himself for the third time today. Fourth, if Fraser were a typical guy and used his morning shower to take care of necessities. Ray kind of hoped not, for Fraser's sake; he'd be rubbing himself raw by the end of the day if that were the case.
He walked around the side of the couch, as quietly as he could, but for once Fraser's superhuman senses didn't pick up on him. Busy, yeah--he was busy, he had a scrap of green cloth between his legs and he was--
Fuck, fuck, fuck, that was Ray's shirt, Fraser was jerking off with Ray's shirt. Ray sucked in a breath through his teeth; he felt his cock jerk, bobbing underneath his towel.
Fraser did notice that--the sound of Ray's indrawn breath--and he whipped his head to the side, looking for Ray. But it was too late; he was already coming, groaning as he lost it all over Ray's t-shirt, and his eyes fluttered closed as the orgasm took him over. Ray was pretty sure the sound coming out of his own throat was a whimper; he was as worked up as Fraser now, as desperate to come as Fraser was, and if Ray thought he could get away with it, he'd grab Fraser's henley off the couch and do the same damn thing as Fraser had just done.
"--sorry," Fraser panted, "sorry, sorry, I couldn't stop myself, I tried, Ray--" He bit down on his lower lip and turned his face away, still panting and trying to catch his breath.
"It's not your fault," Ray murmured. He stretched an arm out but then stopped himself; every time he'd touched Fraser since this had started happening, it'd been anything but reassuring. "I don't blame you. It's all right."
"It's not all right," Fraser whispered. "It's difficult and embarrassing and I can't make it go away. And you must think I'm--"
"My friend?" Ray said quietly.
"--disgusting, I was going to say."
"Not so much."
Fraser looked over at him, and he took in a harsh breath. "The powder?"
"Uh. No," Ray admitted. Fraser looked up at him; Fraser's eyes were very, very round. "Sorry?"
Fraser's eyes kept going back and forth from Ray's face to Ray's towel, and after a few seconds--a few really fucking long seconds, from Ray's point of view--Fraser slid off the couch, putting Ray's t-shirt aside as he knelt down on the floor. He was already hard again; Ray wasn't sure he'd been anything but hard since the powder hit him in the face. Ray winced on his behalf.
"You've gotta be sore by now--"
"I've been more comfortable," Fraser admitted; his voice was shaking. "Ray--if you're... if you were interested before all this--perhaps you wouldn't mind if I--"
"Huh--nnn--" Ray had been all set to say no, to say you are not in your right mind, Fraser, and I don't fuck girls too drunk to be sure and I'm not gonna take advantage of you when you can't say no either, but Fraser's next move stopped him in his tracks. Fraser crawled forward the eighteen or so inches it took and slid his hands under Ray's towel, slipped his hands up the backs of Ray's thighs; Ray's speech garbled into something more along the lines of "hnnngh, fuck."
"I'm good at it," Fraser promised; Ray had to lean forward and grab Fraser by the hair, because Jesus Christ, he couldn't stay upright with Fraser saying things like that. "I like it, I always wanted to, may I--please, Ray--"
Ray gritted his teeth; with a death grip on what shreds were left of his self-control, he kept his fingers tight on Fraser's hair, not letting Fraser get his mouth any closer to Ray's towel or what was under it. It took what felt like a Hercular, Hercules-type effort to do it, because Fraser's hands were slowly, slowly stroking his upper thighs and then--nngh, God, he was scratching, lightly, and he was licking his lips and looking at Ray's cock where it tented the terrycloth and Ray was a good human being, he was not going to take advantage of this, he was not.
"Fraser, buddy, no--if you were in your right mind, then yeah, but not like this, not like this--"
Fraser strained against Ray's grip. "Please, Ray. Please. Please."
"Jesus, Fraser, don't--" Ray was beginning to be afraid Fraser might hurt himself; the grip Ray had to have on his hair to keep Fraser from diving face-first into Ray's lap was pretty intense. And if somebody had told Ray this morning that he was going to come home and wind up with a naked, kneeling, begging Fraser trying to get under Ray's towel, and Ray was going to be holding him back with everything he had, Ray would've laughed his ass off.
Not so funny now. Not so funny when Fraser couldn't say no.
"Don't do this," Ray whispered. "You don't want to do this, buddy, so get into the shower, take a nice cold one, and we'll--"
"Ray, please," Fraser murmured. "Please. I do want, I want to, I can't stop wanting to, I can't stop--needing. And maybe if I'm--if I'm, if it's you, inside me, maybe it would help." He blinked up at Ray. "Please?"
"Oh, goddamnit, Fraser..." Ray groaned and carded his fingers through Fraser's hair. "Damn it..."
Fraser grappled with Ray's towel and dragged it off his hips, moaning openly as soon as Ray's cock was free. He licked his lips--hell, Ray was licking his lips, too; he couldn't blame Fraser for that much. "Ray," Fraser gasped. "Please--please."
Tell him no, Ray thought. Be a good person and tell him no.
Fraser reached out and put a hand around the base of Ray's cock. Ray's knees nearly buckled; Fraser's hand was warm, so warm, and his grip was tight and tense and perfect. "I won't," Fraser said, but he was almost panting now. "If you--don't want--I'll stop if you don't want this," he got out. Ray's cock was throbbing in his hand, starting to leak precome; how Fraser could say if you don't want this with a straight face while looking at Ray's cock, Ray had no idea.
It took everything he had, but he put a hand on Fraser's wrist and held him still. "Do you want this?"
"Oh, God, yes," Fraser said immediately. "I--I swear, Ray--" He was nearly panting by now. "Please, Ray, please--"
Yeah, that was an argument in favor of Fraser being in his right mind. "Did you want this before?"
Fraser's eyes came up for a second, met Ray's. And then Fraser was looking away, mouth turned down at the corners. "I don't think it's very fair to ask that question right now," Fraser said quietly.
So no, then. Ray grimaced. "So you're asking me to take advantage of you while you're drugged. Real nice, Fraser. That's buddies."
Fraser growled in frustration, snapped his wrist out of Ray's grip, and grabbed Ray by the hips. He jerked Ray forward, nearly pulling Ray off-balance, and Ray yelped and stopped talking. Fraser closed his eyes and ran his tongue over his wet, glistening lips one more time.
"Ray, I am having to physically restrain myself from wrestling you to the ground and having my way with you," Fraser growled--oh, God, he was back to that low, unbelievably arousing voice he'd had all the way home. "You are, in no way, taking advantage of me." He blinked up at Ray, and tilted his head slightly to the side, eyes going a little wide. "Unless--Ray, if what you truly want is to hear more begging, then certainly I can--"
"Oh, Jesus," Ray moaned. "Open your mouth, Fraser."
And damn it--true to his incredibly fucking contrary nature, Fraser knelt there, mouth closed, tongue sliding slightly out between his lips as he frowned. "I'm only trying to ascertain--"
Ray snarled--actually fucking snarled, like he was a dog and he'd been pushed too fucking far--and grabbed Fraser by the jaw, his right hand still holding his cock but now angling it down, angling it right at Fraser's slick mouth. "Open your fucking mouth."
"Oh," Fraser gasped, which did the trick, and Ray held onto his jaw and slid his cock into Fraser's waiting, willing mouth, and Christ--he wasn't gonna last, he was going to come right now, come desperately and hard into Fraser's mouth, Fraser's mouth, as hot and needy as it was in all of Ray's fantasies.
It was more than that, though; it was so much more. Fraser sucked and swallowed and rubbed his tongue back and forth against the underside of Ray's cock, and he was moaning, still, desperate but thrilled sounds vibrating all the way down Ray's length. Fraser's fingers dug in, drawing Ray closer in rough, short thrusts, and Ray caught on to the rhythm Fraser was giving him right away. It was like dancing, it was like drowning--it was like throwing himself head-first at something he'd always wanted and never thought he could have, and instead of going splat on the pavement like he'd always expected, he was getting the blowjob of his fucking life.
He let Fraser's jaw go, got his hand out of the way so Fraser could take him as deep as he wanted, and he sank both hands into Fraser's hair again, holding on against Fraser's motion. Fraser slid one hand up and... over, God, and as Ray wondered if he could possibly get more lucky than he already was, Fraser slipped his fingers into Ray's cleft and started moving them up and down, caressing him, seeking out Ray's hole and circling his fingertips around it.
That was it; Ray had been on the edge too long, needing this for too long, and--in all unflattering honesty--had gone without sex with another human being for way too fucking long, so the feel of Fraser's fingertips even nearly inside him was all he could take. He came with a shout, gasping Fraser's name, slamming his cock into Fraser's mouth and dragging Fraser's mouth down onto his cock, again and again and again and oh shit could Fraser breathe? again and--please please yes--one last time, again.
As the last of his spasms rushed through him, he felt another vibration, heard Fraser moan--and then he felt it, a hot jet streaking across his ankle, his shin. Fraser's hands were still on his hip and his ass; Fraser wasn't even touching himself, but that had to have been--oh, God, Fraser had just come again from sucking Ray's cock; Fraser was still sucking and swallowing around Ray's cock like he'd barely gotten started.
Ray hissed softly and eased Fraser back, very gently, trying not to hear the soft protesting whimper Fraser let out. Fraser stretched his tongue out as far as it could go to lick up the last little drop of come that was hanging off the head of Ray's cock, and Ray dropped his weight onto Fraser's shoulders, holding on hard.
"Fraser--Fraser--"
"Oh, God, Ray, that was so much better..." Fraser swallowed heavily and licked his lips, swiping away the few drops of come that had spilled over them. Ray forced his eyes open so he could look down at Fraser, and--dear God, Fraser had managed to come everywhere, he'd gotten come all over Ray and all over the floor.
And he was still--still, Christ--hard.
"You're not--it's not hurting?" Ray asked roughly, still leaning down against Fraser.
"Yes," Fraser moaned, turning his head to rub his cheek against Ray's arm. "It hurts the way it hurts when--" He stopped, eyes closed, breathing heavily against the inside of Ray's wrist. "When I go home," he murmured, "alone, after a day when--after a day when I've felt lonely."
"Oh, geez, buddy, I've been there," Ray murmured back. "I've been right there with you."
"No--no, you haven't, because you come home here and I go home to the Consulate, and Ray, it isn't the same thing at all--I can't, not there, not unless..." Fraser shuddered and slid his tongue forward and licked, tongue curving and stroking and licking along Ray's bracelet, sliding back and forth against the ball chain.
Ray could only gasp. "Not... unless... what, Frase?" His knees were starting to buckle; if they didn't move soon, he was going to pass out right here, two feet away from the couch. Right now that didn't sound half-bad.
"Unless I'm dying for it," Fraser whispered. "And this is--like dying all the time." He chuckled, and then the laugh turned giddy. "Le petit mort. Over and over."
That dragged Ray back to himself in a hurry; he didn't know what the hell Fraser had said, but all that stuff about dying didn't sound good. "You are not gonna die of this, Fraser," Ray said, shaking Fraser a little. "Whatever it takes, I'll do it."
Fraser blinked up at him for a second, and then all of a sudden Fraser was surging to his feet, wrapping both arms around Ray and holding him tight. Ray jerked a little, so startled he couldn't help but try to take a step back, but Fraser bent his head forward and kissed him, hot and greedy, tongue still slick and salty from Ray's come.
Ray sort of melted against him, let Fraser support him for a change, and Fraser made the most of it--he kept one arm around the small of Ray's back, but slid his other hand up into Ray's hair, gripping it tightly, tilting Ray's head back so he could lick and bite at Ray's lips and then work his way down the center of Ray's throat. Ray gasped and closed his eyes, letting Fraser, letting him do anything, everything--he shuddered in Fraser's arms and tried to keep breathing as Fraser growled softly and rubbed his hips up against Ray's, rocked forward so his cock would go sliding across Ray's thigh.
"Do you mean it?" Fraser growled, low and deep, and Ray clutched at him, groaning openly. "Whatever it takes, Ray?"
"Yes," Ray panted. "Yes, yeah--"
Fraser tugged at his hair, at his body, and they were going down to the floor, they were dropping down in a tangle of too many legs and, agh, a smear of come, more than one smear of come. Ray jerked back, flailing a little for balance, and tried to pull away.
"Fraser, I got a perfectly good bed--"
"It's too far," Fraser said, pushing Ray down on his back. "It'll take too long."
"Couch, then--"
Fraser straddled Ray's hips and grabbed Ray by the biceps, pinning him down flat. "Please, Ray."
Ray's back was going to kill him for this later, but with Fraser holding him down (holding him down, God, he was so hot for it he was holding Ray down as if Ray might be stupid enough to go somewhere), looking at him like that, growling out all his words like they were coming from some deep, secret place he kept buried inside him--oh, fuck, no, he wasn't going anywhere. His back would just have to deal.
"What do you want?" Ray asked, going loose under Fraser. Fraser's eyes narrowed, and he clutched at Ray's arms as he felt the tension ease out of Ray's body. He thrust forward, gently, his cock sliding against Ray's lower belly. "Oh--oh--yeah, yeah..."
Fraser started licking his lips, nodding, his eyes narrowing even further as he kept up the rhythm. He tightened his thighs around Ray's hips and kept thrusting, his gorgeous hot bare skin all over Ray's, and if Ray could get hard again so soon--oh, fuck, if he could, this would do it. Fraser had him pinned, he wasn't going anywhere, and Fraser was taking him and using him and this should not have been so goddamned hot, but fuck, Ray was going to go crazy here, Ray was going to spontaneously combust.
"Ray," Fraser panted, "Ray, Ray, Ray--"
"Do it," Ray moaned. "C'mon, do it, come on me, I want you to, I want you--"
Fraser's eyes went wide, all of a sudden, and he bit his lower lip and thrust down hard. His cock jerked against Ray's belly, and he was coming again, spurting slick heat against Ray's body, and he slid through the messy white streaks and just kept coming, more and more come pooling against Ray's stomach. Ray tilted his head up to see--Fraser wasn't really going for distance here, it didn't seem like, just for volume. There was come sliding down and pooling in Ray's bellybutton.
When he was finished--or as finished as he could get, at this point--Fraser let out a long, sobbing breath and just hung there, suspended above Ray, arms locked rigid. Ray squirmed underneath him. "Frase," he murmured. "Fraser. Lemme get you to bed--"
Fraser's temples were dark with sweat now, and his whole body was beginning to sag with exhaustion, but his eyes lit up when Ray said what was apparently the magic word. "Yes, Ray, bed, yes, please."
It almost amazed Ray he was able to move after that--it amazed him that either one of them could move--but he managed to gently pry Fraser's hands off his arms and help Fraser half-collapse to one side of him, at which point he could sit up, use his poor t-shirt to wipe up as much come as he could, and slowly wobble up to his feet. He helped Fraser up, too, and when he drew an arm around Fraser to help him off to the bedroom, Fraser slid his hand around Ray's back in return--which turned into Fraser putting his hand on Ray's ass and then groping him, squeezing and exploring all the way to the bedroom.
Ray hip-checked him onto the bed, where Fraser collapsed on his back and closed his eyes, groaning softly.
"You think this is going to wear off anytime soon?" Ray asked softly, taking a seat next to Fraser. He put a hand on Fraser's thigh; Fraser immediately reached down and--oh, Christ--moved Ray's hand so it was wrapped around his cock. He pressed down on Ray's hand, rocking his hips up and thrusting against it. Ray swallowed and gave Fraser's cock an obliging squeeze; Fraser gasped and started rocking up in double-time.
"Fraser--"
"No," Fraser panted, both hands cupped around Ray's now. "Judging by--the intensity of the--urges, I think I'm still--on the incline of my response and--not the decline." He squeezed Ray's hand tighter and shoved his cock against Ray's palm, against his fingers. "Please, Ray, I need--I need..."
"Okay," Ray whispered. "Okay, I got you, I got you..." He squeezed Fraser's cock and let Fraser show him what rhythm he liked, how he wanted Ray to touch him. At this point, though, it seemed like all Fraser wanted was to be touched any way Ray was willing, and he squirmed and thrust and panted as Ray groped awkwardly at him, awkward because there were too many hands here, too many motions for Ray to keep up with.
"Almost--Ray, so close, please, please, please--" Fraser's hands tightened on Ray's wrist, on his fingers, and Ray hissed out a breath as Fraser's face contorted in agonized pleasure. "Ray--"
"Don't you fucking hold out on me now," Ray growled down at him. "Come on, Fraser--come, dammit--"
With a low, sobbing gasp, Fraser did, hands falling away from Ray's at last as his cock jerked and his come slicked over Ray's fingers. Ray kept going, kept stroking him, figuring Fraser would tell him when it was too much--but as soon as the first crest passed, Fraser bit his lower lip and strained against Ray's hand, breathing hard through his nose.
He wasn't done. Christ, he wasn't done--what had he said about being on the, being uphill, things getting more intense instead of less? This must have been part of what he meant, because he rocked his hips up and pushed his cock into Ray's hand, and when Ray found his sweet spot, that little patch of skin under the head of his cock, Fraser gasped loudly and came again, no warning, no nothing, just coming over Ray's already-filthy fingers.
The second time, though, Fraser managed to collapse on the bed, whimpering slightly as Ray stroked him through one more spasm. Ray let go immediately and looked down at his hand; in a lot of his fantasies, he'd licked himself clean after giving Fraser a handjob, but there was way too much here to lick up. Hell, Ray was still covered with leftover smears of Fraser's come, and while that was pretty fucking hot, it was also starting to itch.
"You gonna be okay if I leave you here long enough to take another shower?"
"Nnn," Fraser mumbled, sounding a little distressed. He blinked his eyes open and squinted up at Ray. "May I join you?"
Ray nearly slapped himself in the forehead; probably would have if his hands hadn't been filthy. Fraser was here in the first place because he'd been dying for a shower. Fraser should have been in the shower first thing, trying to scrub some of those powders off. Instead, he'd insisted Ray take the first shower, and then... And then he was on his knees and begging, so you ended up thinking with your dick. It wasn't as if Ray had ever been under the impression that his dick was smart, but this was kind of a new level of horny-stupid. "Jesus," Ray muttered. "Come on."
Fraser followed Ray into the bathroom, and as Ray adjusted the water temperature down--at least at this rate he wouldn't be running out of hot water anytime soon--Fraser washed his hands at the sink, then bent down and washed his face, too. He was thorough about it, and Ray wondered if it would help at all--if showering off would help either of them.
He gave Fraser a hand towel when he was done, and asked, "Are you doing any better?"
Fraser patted his face dry and then glanced down the front of his body. He was hard again, already, and he gave Ray a rueful look. "Well," Fraser said, "I'm beginning to feel a bit less embarrassed about being this way, if that counts."
For some reason, that made Ray flush; he looked away from Fraser and stuck his hand under the shower spray, testing the temperature again. "I wasn't going to--this isn't how I would've told you," he mumbled, pulling the curtain back and stepping into the shower. He hissed as the cold water hit him, grabbing for the soap and starting to scrub himself down.
The water heated up abruptly, and Ray glanced around; Fraser had jerked the knob to the left and was stepping into the shower, too. Ray turned to the side, making room, and Fraser groaned as the water started running down his body, actually starting to get him clean. Ray held up the soap, and Fraser took it, lathering up his hands.
"I'm very sorry to have put you in this position," Fraser said quietly, once the worst of the mess was gone. He was still rock-hard, and his nipples were tight little nubs despite the warm water; Ray had to focus real hard on his own body to make sure he didn't reach out and touch anything. "It's getting easier to think again, but I can't say I'm feeling any less urgent. You said earlier you were worried about taking advantage of me--I feel the same way about you, Ray."
"I just don't want you to hate me when this is all over," Ray said. He took the soap back, cleaning up a little more, and Fraser shook his head, looking Ray up and down.
"I couldn't--"
Fraser's little pause made Ray stop mid-lather. Fraser was licking water off his lips, staring at Ray. Ray took a deep breath; he wasn't hard again yet, but damn.
"You couldn't...?"
"I could never hate you." Fraser licked his lips again and started to reach out, but stopped himself. "I'm sorry. If you'd--when you're finished, I'll take care of this myself. You don't have to help me any more, if you don't want to."
Help you, Ray thought, looking down at Fraser's cock. He was ready again, if "again" was really the right word. Had he ever stopped being ready?
"Fraser--"
"I don't want you to do anything you can't live with, either," Fraser said firmly. He closed his eyes. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd hurry, please, if you don't want to--if you can't bring yourself to--"
"I want to," Ray interrupted. "I just, I wanted to before, and--"
Fraser's head snapped up, and he stared hard at Ray. Ray was starting to get used to that look, and as much as he hated himself for this, was starting to think he'd miss it when all this was over. When Fraser was looking at him like that, it was easy to think it wasn't because of the drugs at all--that Fraser wanted him.
"Fraser--"
"Ben," Fraser said, and before Ray could process that--he's not calling me Ben, right? he wants me to call him Ben?--Fraser had his hands on Ray, and he was dragging Ray up against him, kissing Ray. It was awkward and sloppy and needy, and Ray groaned and gave up trying to think of himself as a good person; after all this, after what was going on with Fraser, Ray was going to have to accept that he was the kind of person who'd take anything he could get, and hope the fallout afterwards wasn't enough to kill their friendship forever.
He clutched at Fraser and managed to wrench his mouth away. "Anything," Ray gasped. "Anything, Ben, anything you want."
Fraser looked stunned for a moment, and then nodded. He looked around, still seeming a little frantic around the edges, but whatever he was looking for wasn't there. "You don't have--well, in the shower, of course you don't have any..."
"Don't have what?"
"Condoms," Fraser said, and maybe it was the heat and steam from the shower, but maybe Fraser was blushing as he said it. "If you--don't mind. If I could--you don't have to, you could... me, you could do it to me, it might even be better--"
Ray sort of goggled at Fraser. Better? It'd take his fucking head off. He wasn't sure whether to be grateful or sorry he couldn't get hard again yet, although Fraser suggesting that Ray fuck him up the ass was getting his cock very, very interested in the whole shebang. Unfortunately, it was mostly academic; Ray glanced down at his cock, Fraser did the same, and Fraser coughed lightly. "Or me," he said. "If... if you wanted..."
It was more than Ray could resist. He reached out, grabbed Fraser by the back of the neck, and pulled him close, kissing him, moaning against his lips. "I want," Ray gasped. "I want. Come on."
Fraser moaned, too, and then his hand shot out toward the faucet, shutting it off. Ray was still a little soapy, but Fraser was stepping out of the shower, not even bothering to dry off. Ray shrugged; a little soap and water weren't going to get his sheets any more dirty than they already were, plus--
--plus, holy fuck, this was actually going to happen. Ray swallowed, eyes suddenly wide, and he pinched himself, trying to make sure this wasn't just the latest in a long line of sex dreams about Fraser. The pinch didn't tell him much; it hurt, okay, but maybe that wasn't the kind of thing that could really wake you up in a dream. And for Christ's sake, did he want to wake up from this?
Hell, no. Fuck waking up. He shook his head and followed Fraser back into the bedroom, where Fraser was rummaging through Ray's drawers. Fraser dug out a strip of condoms and Ray's half-empty tube of K-Y, and looked over at Ray. "You're sure?"
"Yeah," Ray said softly, and in spite of the way the air was cool against his wet skin, he was getting all heated up, feeling warmer by the second. "How do you like to--how do you want me to--"
Fraser tore one of the condoms off the strip and ripped open the packet; Ray stopped mid-sentence, stood stock-still, and stared as Fraser rolled the latex onto his cock. This was really happening; this was really going to happen. No dream, no joke, no lie; he wasn't kidding himself. Fraser was ready and willing, and even if it wasn't the way Ray would've picked to get things started between them, there was no way in hell Ray was going to leave Fraser on his own like this.
Since Fraser didn't seem to be thinking far enough ahead to have preferences about positioning, Ray climbed into bed and rolled onto his back. Fraser followed, lube in hand. Ray drew his knees up, and Fraser reached out, resting a hand on Ray's thigh. He went still for a moment, lips parted, looking down at Ray.
"Ray, this means--" Fraser went silent for a moment, then shook his head and went on. "I can't--you don't know what this means, and I'm sorry about why, but--"
Ray's face twisted. "Don't be sorry," he said. "Please don't--just don't apologize anymore, okay?" Fraser winced, and Ray shook his head. "Just--if you feel like you're gonna apologize or explode, bite me or something."
"Ray!" Fraser looked shocked. "I wouldn't--" He paused. "Do you like that...?"
Ray could feel himself going red, right to the roots of his hair. "Yeah," he muttered. "But I'm--you kinda got me hanging here, buddy, maybe you could--"
"Oh! Yes, I'm--" Fraser paused, closing his mouth suddenly--on an apology, Ray figured. He bent his head down low, licked a spot on Ray's inner thigh, and bit down gently. Ray moaned out loud, reaching out for Fraser's shoulders. Fraser stayed where he was, face pressed to Ray's thigh, breathing hard. "Ray--"
"Come on," Ray said, voice hoarse, but now Fraser was really panting, curled in on himself, looking like he was caught halfway between agony and totally fucking losing it, shooting without even getting near Ray's ass. And for all that Fraser had been getting hard-on after hard-on like it was Free Boner Night at Ray's place, Ray wasn't about to miss his chance. He sat up and tugged the lube out of Fraser's hand, and since Fraser wasn't protesting that, he opened the tube and squeezed out a generous stripe onto three fingers.
Fraser looked up to watch Ray, wide-eyed now, and his mouth had fallen open in a way that was both flattering and almost silly--after everything that had happened today, could this really be much of a surprise? Ray slid his fingers between his legs, and then in--no waiting, no hesitating, just three long, thick fingers working into his ass. He glanced up at Fraser again; Fraser was still staring down at him, but now he had that look on his face again--the one he'd had outside, against the GTO, when he'd looked at Ray like Ray might end up being dinner.
That was as much tease as even Ray could stand; he slid his fingers out and tossed the lube aside, wiping his hands clean on the sheet. "Okay," he said, softly, kind of growling the way Fraser had been--but at least he had a voice. Fraser's mouth worked for a second, but nothing came out, and then he grabbed Ray by both wrists and pinned him down on the bed, crushing his mouth to Ray's.
Ray squirmed underneath Fraser, trying to get his legs up; Fraser groaned against Ray's lips and rocked his hips down, rubbing his cock against Ray's. He kissed Ray again, and it was like he couldn't stop; his tongue was thrusting into Ray's mouth in a rhythm with his hips, and Ray knew from earlier, from the way Fraser had given himself up to that rhythm earlier, that this was going to end up going somewhere fast if Ray didn't do something to stop it.
He yanked a hand free and grabbed Fraser by the hair, dragging Fraser's head back. "You missed," he said. "C'mon."
Fraser's eyebrows drew together in confusion for a moment, but then he licked his lips and nodded, reaching between them to steady his cock with a hand that was not all that steady on its own.
But then he was there, and Ray dropped his head back on the pillow, gasping for breath as Fraser started working his way in.
It'd been a while. It'd been way too long, and the last time was a one-night stand with a guy he met while he was out dancing. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to have someone he knew this well inside him, somebody who was totally fucking focused on every last detail, somebody who was there.
Fraser opened him up, and Ray took him, and took him, and kept on taking him until he was sweating and panting and damn near writhing under Fraser's body. They were face-to-face, so as soon as he could get his eyes open, he looked up, needing to see Fraser--and Fraser was looking at him with the same feelings written all over him, that same need to make sure Ray was right there with him. Making sure they were in this together.
Dreaming, God, this had to be a dream, but Ray didn't care anymore. "Yeah," Ray breathed. "Come on, Ben. Go."
Fraser caught Ray's wrist again, and with both of Ray's wrists pinned down to the bed, Fraser took a deep breath and started to move.
And, oh, God, the man could move; now Ray was getting hard, now Ray's cock was back in the game. His hands might still have been pinned down, but he squirmed and arched underneath Fraser, and he saw the moment when Fraser looked down and noticed how hard Ray was getting; he saw the hungry look pass over Fraser's face, the desire for everything, all at once. Ray tried to twist his wrists in Fraser's grasp, but Fraser just held on tighter, drove in deeper. Ray groaned. Good, so good, so much better than he'd imagined, and Fraser was going harder and harder, pounding Ray against the mattress, damn near pounding Ray through the mattress and into the goddamned floor. Ray wouldn't have cared if Fraser had broken the bed; he just closed his eyes and groaned and went along for the ride, letting Fraser take him, take everything from him.
Fraser gasped, and then his mouth was coming down on Ray's, his tongue plunging into Ray's mouth. Ray kissed him back, swallowed up Fraser's groans, and when Fraser hitched forward, hips slamming against Ray's, Ray bit down on Fraser's lower lip. Fraser cried out, muffled by Ray's mouth, and drove forward one more time, and then he was coming, clutching at Ray and moaning out garbled words and gasping desperately for breath.
His hands went limp on Ray's wrists, and Ray tugged his hands free so he could get his arms around Fraser. "Yeah," Ray whispered. "God, yeah--are you all right?"
Fraser nodded against Ray's shoulder, and Ray could feel Fraser's cock going soft... God, finally. Fraser whimpered softly as he rolled away from Ray, and after stripping off the condom, he glanced around for anywhere to put it. Ray pulled a hand towel out from under the bed and offered that to Fraser; it wasn't the cleanest hand towel ever, but compared to the two of them and what they'd been through tonight, it didn't seem all that bad, either. Fraser nodded, swabbed himself off, and wrapped the condom in the towel for later disposal.
"Better?" Ray asked.
"Yes. I think it's finally wearing off." Fraser sighed and tilted his head back, stretching his neck and rolling his shoulders. "Ray, I am so, so sorry--"
Ray pressed his lips together and nodded. "It's okay. You want, we can pretend it never happened."
Fraser's head whipped around; he was frowning hard, and Ray looked away. "Would that--would you really want to--would that be easier for you...?"
Ray didn't say anything, couldn't say anything. Fraser crawled closer, reached across the bed to put a hand on Ray's shoulder. "Ray...?"
This is your shot, Ray thought. Just say it. Tell him no, it wouldn't make things easier; just say it, say it--
In the end, he didn't have to say a word. Fraser lay down next to him, cupped Ray's face in his hand, and kissed him, slow and tentative and asking, demanding nothing, for the first time. When he pulled away, Ray stared at him, unable to think of anything at all to say.
"I've been very selfish tonight," Fraser said quietly. "I began to realize that when--on your couch, with your shirt..." He let Ray go long enough to rub at his eyebrow, and then sighed and went on. "Somewhere along the way, it did occur to me that if I'd gone home alone, or with someone I hadn't wanted to--I did wonder if my normal reaction to you was amplifying this a bit."
Ray's throat was so tight he couldn't speak for a few seconds, and what he did get out wasn't so much a sentence as a few isolated, dumbfounded words. "You--me? Normal--?"
Fraser nodded and looked down at Ray's chest, reaching out and running his hand over Ray's pec, fingertips sweeping down Ray's stomach. "I thought I was never going to have this," Fraser whispered, and Ray reached out, grabbed Fraser's hand, and rolled over on him, pinning him flat. Fraser looked up at him, eyes wide, and this time, it was Ray kissing him--Fraser giving up everything, every secret, every lie, everything. Letting Ray know through his kiss and his body and the soft, desperate moans against Ray's lips that they were in this together--Ray wanted Fraser more than anything he'd ever known, and Fraser wanted him right back.
"Ben," Ray whispered. "Ben, Jesus, why didn't you just say--"
"Would you have believed me?" Fraser asked, eyebrows raised. "When I was under the influence, and likely willing to do anything in order to get some--relief?" He shook his head. "I think--in so far as I was thinking at all--I think I was afraid it might be overly manipulative of me. Or you might feel obligated to reciprocate, or..."
"You could have told me before all this. It would've saved us both some grief."
Fraser set his jaw for a moment, but he ended up looking away, like he couldn't quite stay stubborn and stony--not after everything they'd been through tonight. "It seemed like a great deal of risk for a very small likelihood of reward," Fraser said quietly.
"You thought I didn't want you," Ray translated, and he shook his head. "If I'd known about this a month ago--" Or, hell, a week ago, a couple of days ago. "If I'd known--"
"You know now," Fraser murmured. He bit down on his lower lip and closed his eyes for a moment; his eyelashes against his cheek were somehow one of the sexiest things Ray had ever seen. He opened his eyes again before Ray could do something stupid, like kiss them. "Ray--" Fraser shifted underneath him, his thigh rubbing gently against Ray's cock. "Would you... please..."
Ray drew back a little, frowning. "The stuff still hasn't worn off?"
"I... frankly, I think it has," Fraser admitted. "Or the worst of it has. I could stop now. I could go, if you wanted me to."
"Does it feel like I want you to go?" Ray pressed his hips down; oh, yeah, still hard, still wanting Fraser like nobody's business. "I just want you to be able to live with this tomorrow."
Fraser nodded and relaxed under Ray's hands, under his body. "Yes," he murmured. "I understand. But I think tomorrow would be easier for me if I knew that--at least once--it wasn't because I was drugged. That just once, it was by choice." Fraser looked up at Ray, and Ray took a breath and held it. He'd spent all night watching Fraser needing things; this was a different kind of need, but it was still Fraser, looking at Ray, desperate for something. "And it would be easier if I woke up here tomorrow, unless you'd rather I left."
Ray cupped Fraser's cheeks in his hands and looked him straight in the eye. "You can stay as long as you want," Ray said, and he kissed Fraser again.
Fraser wrapped both his arms around Ray's shoulders; Ray could feel him moaning against Ray's mouth. Fraser wasn't hard now--maybe half-hard, but nothing more than that--and it was, oddly enough, kind of a turn-on in itself. Fraser wasn't here because of the powder, not this time. Wasn't clinging to Ray because he had drugs in his system that were making him cling to the first available body. It was all about Ray, Fraser wanted to be here because of Ray, wanted at least one time to happen because they both wanted it and not because he was going to die if he didn't get it.
Ray pressed kisses to Fraser's face; kissed his cheeks, his nose, his chin. He leaned up and kissed Fraser's fucking eyelashes, because Fraser was here and Fraser wanted him and Ray could. He moved down to Fraser's throat, leaving hot, wet, openmouthed kisses; he was tempted to leave Fraser one hell of a hickey, but that seemed like the kind of thing maybe Fraser would associate with the rest of the evening, and not this, so Ray just kept going down, kissing Fraser's chest, nuzzling lightly over his otter scar (only Fraser, man), and leaving small, gentle kisses across his stomach.
"Ray," Fraser whispered. "Ray, please, I--"
"Anything," Ray murmured up at him. "Anything you want, Ben."
"I--I'm not sure if I can again, but--" He took a short, sharp breath as Ray's chin brushed the top of his pubes. "Would you... a little lower... if you don't mind...?"
Ray laughed. "I've spent some quality time with my right hand thinking about how much I wouldn't mind," Ray said, and then he was moving down, licking Fraser's cock, tasting sex and need, some of his own sweat, the leftover traces of Fraser's come from earlier. Fraser groaned, both hands coming down to bury themselves in Ray's hair, and in spite of the fact that Fraser really wasn't getting any harder--half-mast seemed to be his limit right now--he rocked his hips up, drawing Ray's mouth down on him over and over.
Like this, it was easy enough to take Fraser's whole cock in his mouth; Ray licked him roughly, sucked him hard, let Fraser push into his mouth all he wanted. His own cock was aching, needing more than this, but he'd come once already tonight; he could hold out as long as Fraser needed him to.
When Fraser let him go, Ray carefully licked his way back and let Fraser's cock slip gently out of his mouth. "You still want me to--?"
"Oh, God, yes. Please, Ray." Fraser licked his lips and looked down at Ray, bright-eyed. "Please."
Ray nodded and turned back to the nightstand for a condom and some lube; he rolled the condom on, easy, and then he turned back to Fraser, lube in hand, kind of marveling at the whole thing--this was happening. How the hell was this really happening to him?
"Ray...?"
"I'm here, I'm right here." Ray knelt down between Fraser's legs and slicked up his fingers. "You think you're going to be sore?"
"I have no idea," Fraser admitted, but he bent his legs at the knees and spread them, tilting his hips a little to offer himself up to Ray. Ray sucked in a breath, and Fraser bit down on his lower lip for a moment. "It's been a long time since it was anything but my own fingers, you understand, but then tonight I've achieved orgasm so much that most of my muscles are quite relaxed..."
"Ha. I meant sore because of all the orgasms," Ray said, reaching down, trying not to think about the mental image that inspired: Fraser, fingers in his own ass, jerking off. Jesus.
Fraser jumped a little when Ray's fingers made contact, but Ray wasn't going in yet, wasn't trying to penetrate Fraser's body just yet; he was just rubbing around Fraser's hole, trying to help get him relaxed.
"It would certainly be a novel and intriguing reason for soreness," Fraser said. He was starting to sound breathless, and he squirmed down against Ray's fingers. "Oh--Ray, yes, please..."
Ray slid two fingers forward, and God, Fraser just opened up for him, took them like two of Ray's fingers was nothing, like he'd been wanting it all night. His head dropped back on the pillow, and he rocked against Ray's hand, gasping and clutching at the bed. "Ray--"
More warmup, more warmup, Ray was a nice guy, Ray wasn't just going to dive in and take without at least giving Fraser a little more lube. He drew his fingers back--tried not to listen to how much that made Fraser whimper--and slicked up again, this time moving in with three. Fraser moaned, breathing hard again. His cock was still half-hard against his thigh, but if Ray had ever fucked someone so desperately into it, so eager to be fucked, he couldn't think of when.
He eased his fingers out of Fraser and lay down between Fraser's legs, looking down at Fraser's flushed chest and neck, watching as his chest rose and fell with his breaths. "God, how is this even real," Ray whispered, leaning down and putting a kiss on Fraser's chest.
"I've been wondering that myself," Fraser admitted. He reached up and grabbed Ray by the arms. "Please, Ray, please, now, please--"
Ray nodded and got a hand between them, and for all that he was so turned on he could easily imagine vibrating himself right out of his own body, he was steady enough for this. He pressed the head of his cock against Fraser's hole, and Fraser gasped, and groaned, and clutched at him, and then he was moving in, he was moving in nice and deep, Fraser was grabbing at him and drawing him in and holding him tight, so tight, arms around his back, legs tangling up with Ray's. "God," Fraser panted. Ray couldn't help but agree with him.
Somehow, he found Fraser's mouth with his, and he kissed Fraser hard, tongue moving into Fraser's mouth while his cock moved into Fraser's body. He was hot, so hot, burning, needed this like he hadn't realized was possible, and Fraser was under him giving as good as he got. He rocked up with each of Ray's thrusts, he pushed up when Ray pushed in, and he dragged his mouth away from Ray's long enough to whisper out more pleas, more urgent little words, a lot of yes and Ray and want you.
"Ray--yes, please, please--" Fraser got a handful of Ray's hair, mashed his mouth against Ray's for a second, and then growled out, "Fuck me," and Ray ended up banging his lip against Fraser's teeth as he totally fucking lost it, clutching at Fraser's arms and thrusting into Fraser's body, giving up all pretense that he could be good at this, be sweet at this--all he had left was the raw animal need to fuck, to own, to drive his cock into Fraser until the whole goddamned world knew Fraser was his, his, goddamnit--
"Mine," Ray snarled into Fraser's neck, and Fraser let out a choked sound, nodding hard against Ray's shoulder. "Mine, fuck yeah, mine--"
"Yes, yes, yes, please--"
Ray drove in one more time and came, shouting, probably leaving Fraser half-deaf on that side but way, way past the point of being able to care. He kept going, kept pounding in, up until the point where all he wanted was to bury himself in Fraser and collapse. He hugged Fraser hard, hoping dimly in the back of his mind that Fraser could still breathe.
Judging from the soft huffs of warm air he felt against his shoulder, he was guessing Fraser could. Good. Then neither one of them would have to move. Ever. That'd be good. That would be greatness.
"Ray?"
Ray made a noise, which was the best he could do under the circumstances. Fraser was just going to have to learn to speak Fucked-Out Chicago Grunting Noises. Fraser was smart enough; he'd pick it up fast.
"Ray..."
Another grunt. Fraser laughed softly and tried to roll Ray over, and Ray whimpered out a protest but let Fraser move him anyway. He collapsed on his stomach, eyes closed, still sticky, still sheathed in a condom that was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, but he wasn't going anywhere. He was pretty sure his legs didn't work anymore.
"I'll get you a washcloth," Fraser promised, and with a few grunting noises of his own, Fraser slipped out of bed.
Somewhere in Ray's mind, he picked up on it when Fraser came back; he felt it when Fraser stripped the condom off him and rubbed him down. He had a vague sense of Fraser moving around the bedroom, picking things up--the hand towel he'd used earlier, the washcloth he was holding now--and then he heard the toilet flushing, the faucet running, Fraser padding back to the bedroom.
Fraser slipped into bed with him, and Ray dragged up enough energy to wrap an arm around Fraser's waist and put his head on Fraser's shoulder. He threw a leg over Fraser's legs, too, and then paused for a second and groped behind himself for the edge of the blanket. There. He wrangled the sheet over them and then went right back to hugging Fraser; there was probably more of his body on Fraser's now than on the actual bed.
Fraser's chest was moving a little; was he laughing? Ray made an inquisitive noise.
"I was going to ask if it was still all right for me to spend the night here," Fraser murmured, "but I think you've answered my question."
Ray mumbled out something faintly yes-like, and Fraser got an arm around him, got both arms around him.
"Thank you," Fraser whispered. "For everything."
Ray nodded. "Welcome," he managed to say. "Anytime."
-end-