Handle With Care
Author's Notes: Hats off to slidellra for providing an excellent and insightful beta. She fixed what was broken, encouraged me to porn without angst, and made what was already here much, much better.
Handle With Care
There was something wrong with the overhead fan.
It whirred noisily, squeaking in distracting half-measure, and Ray was having enough trouble concentrating to begin with. Just the sight of Fraser, spread out on the bed beside him, stroking himself slowly, made it impossible to form a coherent thought. Everything seemed tuned to the whine of the fan and the weird chant-thing Ray was doing, "Fraser Fraser Fraser," like some kind of fucked-up prayer. In fact, it all sounded like the fuzzy soundtrack of a porno movie, squeak squeak whirr whirr "Fraser Fraser Fraser".
And Fraser looked like something right out of a skin flick, his chest shiny-slick with sweat, hair damp and curling at his temples. And his cock, Christ, any porn star in the world would be proud of that dick. Fraser was hard and leaking, stroking himself slowly as he stared up at Ray with a pleading look, biting his lip.
"It's too hot to fuck, Fraser."
Fraser didn't seem to be listening. He just kept jerking himself, kept staring at Ray.
"We just did it, Fraser. Just--" Ray would have checked his watch to see how much time had past, but he wasn't wearing anything but sweat and he wasn't really capable of doing math right now anyway. "It's hot. It's really hot, Fraser."
And it was. It really, really was too damn hot for sex, but Fraser was damn persistent. And even though Ray felt drugged with the muggy heat of Chicago in July he knew enough not to argue with a good thing. Who could refuse with a dark-eyed Fraser, sleek and aroused in the shabby no-tell motel room, jacking himself slowly and trying to convince Ray that "intercourse would certainly prove a welcome distraction from the heat." Not Ray, that was for sure.
Ray just watched him, dazed and a little sweaty, feeling himself getting hard even though skin-on-skin would mean heat, warmth, fire. Like striking a match over a pile of gas-soaked rags. Too hot to move, too hot to even think, and Fraser wanted to fuck.
"Fine." Ray gave in, because who could hold out against temptation like that?
So Fraser let go of himself and balanced on his knees, wobbling a little on the bed's soft mattress, and without preamble (fuck, two months of motel rooms with Fraser and he was talking like a Mountie) bent his head and licked at Ray's cock.
Ray curled his fingers into Fraser's damp hair and groaned a little, eyes rolling back in his head at the warm touch of Fraser's mouth.
Maybe it was the ninety-degree heat, or the goddamn humidity index, or maybe it was just the slow slide of Fraser's hand moving up Ray's thigh to cup his balls, but this felt dirty, wrong, kinky even. In a really excellent way. Those big, sweaty, calloused hands on his dick and his balls made him groan again and Ray started thrusting, hoping Fraser would catch on. He was doing his best to ignore the stupid squeak squeak whirr whirr of the fan and the bedsprings and focus instead on Fraser's mouth as it finally, finally closed over the head of his cock.
Fraser used his teeth a little to give Ray that extra edge he liked, and it was just enough to make Ray lose what little control he hadn't already surrendered to the heat and to Fraser and to the little oven of a room. Fraser soothed the nip of his teeth with tender flicks of his tongue, then pulled back a little, caught Ray's eye, and bent his head to kiss the tip of Ray's cock.
Jesus. Ray blinked the sting of salt out of his eyes, flopping back down on the damp sheets to throw an arm over his face and suck in a long, gasping breath. "Jesus, you oughta come with a warning label."
"Hmmm?" Fraser mumbled, pulling off Ray's cock to adjust his grip. His breath felt like a warm breeze on Ray's overheated flesh, his "hmmm" ghosting over the saliva-wet head of Ray's cock like a second tender kiss. "And what would this label say, Ray?"
Ray didn't move his arm, didn't look at Fraser. He gasped and pushed his hips up when he felt Fraser's hand curve around his ass, fingers tickling the back of his thigh as he worked his hand between Ray's body and the mattress. Any second and-
"`Do not feed'," he managed right before Fraser pushed a finger inside. Since they'd been fucking less than two hours ago there wasn't much resistance anyway. Ray could feel Fraser's finger filling him up, stroking over his prostate. Not as good Fraser's cock up his ass, but Fraser's finger was no mean shakes. And God, it felt good to thrust up into Fraser's mouth and then push down on Fraser's finger. If he could just ignore the way Fraser's damp skin and his own were chafing each other, this would be paradise. Always something, Ray figured.
"Yeah," he ground out, not sure if anything he was saying made sense or if it was just background noise to fucking, like the fan and the bedsprings. Ambience. "Yeah, `do not feed', that's good. And-"
Fraser grunted and slid an arm across Ray's hips, pinning him to the mattress. Ray held very, very still, and tried to remember to keep breathing. He could feel his balls tighten up and he was close, so fucking close. All he wanted to do was buck and scream and push up up up into Fraser's waiting mouth, but the weight of Fraser's body on his wouldn't let him move. He could feel his whole body tremble like a string lashed tight against the throat of a guitar. One pluck, one tiny bit of encouragement from Fraser, and he'd snap and go right on over the edge.
"And what?" Fraser pulled up again, his voice low and rough, and used his hand to strip Ray's cock, his strokes forceful and--fuck--demanding. His question was just a whisper of sound in the notch of Ray's hip. Ray came with a gasp, and the bone-deep ache of release made him dizzy for a second.
Or maybe it was just the heat.
"You, uh, want me to--" He didn't recognize his own voice. He sounded like he'd been drugged, his voice scratchy and deep and blissed-out. Fraser shifted beside him, sheets rustling.
"No, not tonight. Would you roll over, please?"
Ray complied bonelessly. He landed flat on his stomach and was still trying to catch his breath, trying to get his bearings after that one-two punch of an orgasm, when he felt Fraser's thumbs spreading him open. He couldn't muster much more than a satisfied, "Mmmm yeah," before he felt Fraser's cock sliding into his ass. Fraser moved slowly at first, taking his time, drawing each stroke out with a low, satisfied groan. Ray tried to push back, to meet Fraser's short, slow strokes halfway, but he really was too hot and fucked-out to do much more than wiggle up on his knees and let his belly sag against the tight band of Fraser's arms. Fraser was strong enough to hold them both up, anyway.
Much as Ray liked it fast and desperate (and he really, really did), the lazy pace Fraser set felt damn good. He relaxed into the rhythm, sighing in pleasure each time Fraser's cock brushed his prostate, and let himself drift. Fraser didn't last long, no more than a couple of minutes, and finally he felt Fraser tense behind him and push forward in one long, ragged thrust, gasping as he came.
They hovered together for a few seconds and Ray felt the warm press of Fraser's forehead on his back, right between his shoulder blades. He dropped a kiss on Ray's back and then Fraser pulled away. Ray almost whimpered because hot as it was, he didn't want Fraser anywhere out of arms' reach.
But Fraser just whispered, "Shhhh," and guided Ray to lie down on the bed. He licked Ray clean with slow, careful swipes of his tongue over Ray's cock and belly. And once Ray was clean he settled right in next to Ray, sharing a pillow, their bodies pressed so close together Ray couldn't figure out where he started and Fraser began. If they moved apart their skin would burn a little when they separated; Ray didn't want that to happen and he sure as shit wanted Fraser as close as possible. Fuck the pain when they eventually had to move.
"I think you should have a warning label too, Ray."
"Whazzat?" Ray mumbled, already drifting off to post-orgasm dreamland. He felt so mellow and relaxed that it felt like the urgency of the night had happened to somebody else. But he roused himself enough to listen to what Fraser was saying.
End Handle With Care by Nos4a2no9
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