Lunch Break Rating: m/m content, and *definitely* NC-17. If that's not your cup of tea - shoo. :) Oh, and there's a bit of bad language, too. Warnings: I'm a sucker for RayK. 3rd season rulez! Notes: This started out as a challenge to myself after I noticed that there doesn't seem to be that much explicit stuff around in DS fiction. Hell, most of the stories seem to be - compared to other fandoms - almost chaste. Well, I usually don't like to do explicit, and I don't do PWP's, but this seemed to be 'a good cause'. Alas - I didn't watch my back, and one of my Plot Bunnies jumped me while I wasn't looking. (Bet it was Snugglebunny.) So it turned out more serious than I intended, and less explicit. Bummer. I'm just not cut to write pure smut. And finally - this is written entirely from RayK's POV, and I'm not entirely sure where to put this. Is there such a thing as an 'emotional first time story'...? Disclaimer: Not mine. Just played with them. Put 'em back unharmed, but relaxed. ;) Lunch Break by Sammy You know, one day I realized that I'd started sorting the people in my life into two categories lately - 'safe' and... well, 'un-safe'. 'Safe' is just that - people I work with, people I meet every day, my neighbors. Hey, I do okay with them, I'm not *that* much of a loner. I can relate. I talk, I date, I have lunch, and it's all fine with me, as long as I'm alone in my bed at the end of a long day. It doesn't work like that with the 'un-safe' ones. They get under my skin, no matter what I do. They stir up the muddy waters of what I am, and they drive me wild so easily, both in good and bad ways. They crack the shell and slip inside before I know what happened. There aren't many people out there that have that sort of effect on me, thank God, but those who do get me good and deep down. Take Benton Fraser, for instance. Definitely 'un-safe'. I mean, sometimes I'm pretty damn sure he could walk into the precinct and turn my life upside down with just one look... Oh. Wait. He already did that. Like, the other day. Hoooh boy. That was wild. I mean, one minute I was buried up to my ass in a case report I hadn't even written. Okay, so I pretended to discuss it with Lt. Welsh and the Assistant DA Marino, but actually I just kinda furiously flipped the pages, looking for something I'd missed in this mess. You try doing that while you have Welsh and this Marino guy give you an almost-bitch fight as background noise. Then all of a sudden Fraser was there, right across the room, and it was like all my attention snapped to him instantly. I mean, for a moment all - *all* - I could think of was that he looked downright edible in this dark blue shirt he was wearing. Don't get me wrong, I love him in serge. Red suits him, far more than should be considered legal. (Actually, I think he's the only man in the known world who could pull off this longjohn stunt without looking ridiculous.) But whenever he's wearing casual clothes, it means that he's spending his free time with me. Not just 'office hours', but his time off. And from what I've heard, he does that more with me than he used to with Vecchio. Yeah, I know it's petty. Can't help it, though - I still get a kick out of the idea. Anyway, that day he was wearing said shirt I liked so much, and his black leather jacket, and his hair was even kinda ruffled as if he'd just climbed out of bed, and with *that* image came a wave of warmth, so before I knew it I had to fight down the urge to greet my man with one huge, enormous grin. Geez. If I'd known that being with the Mountie would turn me into a pile of romantic mush, maybe I'd have thought twice about getting into his bed. But just then Fraser turned his head and smiled at me this... *this* way, and I mushed some more, and my mind shrugged and agreed that... maybe not. I kept my eyes glued to Fraser as he made his way through the squad room and greeted Welsh, who just nodded before he continued yelling at the DA without losing a breath. Then very blue eyes turned back to me, and it actually felt like my heart had skipped a beat. Breathe? Oh, yeah, I could do that. Sort of. "Hello, Ray." Had Fraser's voice always been this deep? I couldn't really remember. Truth is, back then I didn't even feel like I could *think*. I just stared at Fraser for a while, watched my lover's oh so kissable mouth move tantalizingly, and all I could think of was how it would feel on my skin. Right then, I wanted nothing more than to plunder that tempting mouth, plunge my tongue deep inside and... and I had to take a deep breath when I realized what I was doing. I can tell ya, it took a good deal of concentration to ignore that I was getting hot as hell, and pretty fast, too. Jesus, what this man does to me. There are certain times when I think that maybe it would be better if we had already moved beyond that point - that first stage in a relationship, when you are so hot for your partner that you want to jump his bones every time he turns and smiles at you in a certain way. Fraser smiles at me a lot lately. And each time I'm helpless to do anything but react. It's like I'm in some sort of bizarre football game between my brain and my body, with my mind regularly passing the ball, and my libido snatching it mid-air and running with it. One hell of a touchdown guaranteed. It's scary. It's foolish. It's reckless. And it can lead to pretty damn embarrassing situations, like this one time in the men's room... It is the best thing that happened to me in years, and I thank God on my knees that after two months of being with Fraser I still want to screw him into unconsciousness every time I see him. "Well, then - are you about ready to go?" Okay, so he caught me off-guard. *And* staring at his mouth. We've had worse. I just had to remember what he'd asked me, right? Ready to go. The case file in my lap told me I was anything but that. "Sorry, Fraser." I said and actually managed some sort of apologetic shrug. "I know I said I'd drop by later, but then this meeting came up, and now I'm trapped between the alpha male and the hyena. And I've got no idea how long this'll take..." One quick glance towards Welsh and the DA revealed that they were still busy yapping at each other, and I sighed. "... though it looks like it might be a while..." "Oh. That's too bad." The words were right, but the tone of voice wasn't - he didn't sound very sorry. I turned my head to find my Mountie still smiling at me. I blinked, and if we'd been in a cartoon, there'd have been a big 'Confusion!?' sign stapled to my forehead. Fraser didn't look particularly crushed. In fact, he looked somewhat... what...? Smug? *Him*? "Yeah, but it's not, like, we had any special plans or something..." I continued carefully. Carefully, 'cause I'm never *quite* sure what to make out of it when he looks at me like this. Doesn't happen very often, but sometimes there's this strange... sparkle in his eyes that makes me shiver all over. Okay, okay, so I *do* have a hunch about what it means. So my body learned the lesson of what will happen whenever he gets this thoughtful little frown. Shoot me. "No. No, of course not." Fraser agreed quickly, and that made me definitely scowl in suspicion. "I just thought that - since you were supposed to have the rest of the day off - it would be nice to pick you up after work, to--" He hesitated, then shrugged and fell silent, this strange smile that drove me mad still there and not looking like it would go anywhere else soon. Okay, I got the picture. I had to ask. I could do that. "To what, Fraser?" I watched Fraser's lips widen a bit more at the question, and it did strange things to my pulse. Then my Canadian leaned forward, and I sort of followed the motion until I could almost feel his lips brush my cheek. Imagination is a wonderful thing. "I believe", the low voice murmured close to my ear, and then I definitely felt his mouth move against my skin, and it nearly made me miss his words again because I concentrated so hard on the sensation, "the appropriate term would be to 'fuck the stuffing out of you'." Me, speechless? Whatever gave you that idea? I mean, it's not like I had a chance here. Before I could even think of a witty reply, he straightened up, and I felt his hand on my shoulder for a second before he spoke. And when he continued, his voice was so clear and firm that it carried not even a hint of innuendo. I gotta ask him one day how he does that. "But - since you seem otherwise engaged - this will have to wait. I'll see you later, Ray. Lieutenant." A short nod towards Welsh, who'd long since stopped turning his head at the strange pronunciation, a quick greeting gesture, and he was gone, leaving behind lil' ol' me - a partner who couldn't have formed a coherent sentence even if life and sanity depended on it. Go figure. = = = = = I kinda lost track of time for a moment, but I think it took me a while to even manage a blink. The second one went smoother, but then again, my brain was slowly coming back online again. That *had* been Fraser, right? *My* Fraser, my Mountie, talking dirty to me... suggesting... Oh. My. God. All of a sudden the words my lover had whispered into my ear came fully equipped with a meaning and - worse - a very vivid picture that made me gasp for air... and then it left me wondering how my mouth could water and be as dry as the desert at the same time. My brain decided that this would be the perfect time to shut down again. My body, obviously, had quite different intentions. Unfortunately, that was - to borrow one of Fraser's colorful phrases - the exact moment fate chose to intervene. Which meant Welsh and Marino stopped arguing. And *that* meant they turned their full attention back to me. = = = = = I burst out of the 27th mere moments later, and it didn't take long to locate Fraser... Geez. I think now I'm really starting to sound like him. Anyway - there he was, strolling down the sidewalk and looking to all the world as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. (Ah, but it would. Trust me on that.) It took just a few strides to catch up with him (which meant he'd been sure I would follow him), and when I walked at his side, I let out a slow breath. "Fraser." "Ah. Ray." he said, and I turned my head to find him watching me with an amused smile, perfectly disguised beneath a curious expression. "I was under the impression that you were otherwise... preoccupied." Well, I'll be damned. He was teasing me. I think that was when I decided that - since we both knew were this was heading - I could play along just fine. So I gave him a quick grin and shrugged. "Yeah, well. Told 'em I had to cut it short because something urgent... came up." "Ah." he nodded, then gave me another one of those quick sideways glances. "What was so urgent?" There was a warm chuckle in his voice that felt like something I could have touched, and I think if we hadn't been in a public street, I'd have pounced and fucked him numb right there. Where are all the dark alleys when you need one? I mean, try to imagine Fraser in a blatantly flirtatious mood. Yeah, nice one indeed. It's something very rare, and it drives me nuts every time. Sometimes we even make it to a place more private. "Lunch break." I finally said, and I wanted to grant myself some brownie points for sounding as cool as a cucumber. Me, affected by his charm? He stopped dead in his tracks, and when I turned, I found him staring at me, his eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and amusement. "It was an urgent lunch break?!" I grinned then, 'cause put that way, it *did* sound bizarre. My mood spiked up a bit more when he returned the smile, and suddenly I found myself stepping closer to him, until we were almost nose to nose. He shivered, and I knew he had felt it, too. It's weird with him and closeness, y'know. Usually, we're all over each other. It's almost natural that we're touching all the time, little pats on the back or chest, or arms touching, things like that. It almost seems like our bodies take every petty excuse to drift together. But as soon as it's not just this instinctive habit - whenever we get close to each other *deliberately* - it's totally different. Then getting into Fraser's personal space almost feels like crossing a physical barrier, and all of a sudden there's so much energy crackling between us, it sometimes makes me wonder if others can see little sparks fly between us. Now I used this as I got even closer, until we were chest to chest and my body itched with the need to wrap around his. Urgent? Oh yeah, I'd show him urgent. I raised my eyes to meet his gaze and held it, and when he looked at me all mellow-mellow, I showed him what it looked like inside of me. It was like pulling aside a veil, and behind it was all I felt for Fraser, every crazy spark of emotion I'd ever had for Big Red. And I let him see all the lust, and desire, and frustrated need that had piled up in the long months we'd used to dance around each other without giving in to what - in the end - had proven inevitable... And then I opened up some more and let him see what he was doing to me *now*, and the ache of desire was even bigger, getting impossibly hot, and big, and desperate, until it curled up in my belly and left me all heated and horny. "Yeah." I said, and my voice was just a rasp, breathed into his face. I watched his eyes get dark as he tried to fight down the sudden need that played havoc with him, but I wasn't about to give him a break. I leaned forward just a bit more, just enough to let our lips almost touch, so he would *feel* my words murmured against his mouth. "I'm starving." I could hear him swallow hard, and without having to look down, I knew he had his hands clenched into fists. Then he took a deep breath, and I moved back before we would do something stupid. So I turned and tried to get enough blood back into my brain to remember where I had parked the car. See, that's the beauty of one of us sleeping on a bench at the Canadian Consulate. You never have to waste precious time or brain capacity with stuff like 'Your place or mine?'. I could practically feel his gaze on me, burning holes into my back as he followed me slowly, and this time the smug grin was on my face. Guess whose plan had just backfired. = = = = = Can you believe we behaved even in the car? It was tough, but somehow I managed to keep my hands on the wheel and my thoughts on the topic of getting us to my apartment safely. I'm still not sure how we did the trick with the kind of heat we had smoldering between us. But as soon as we were up at my place, it was as if someone had cut us loose. I mean, I don't even remember closing the door behind us. Next thing I know is I'd grabbed him by the jacket and pressed him up against the door, and then I kissed him like a starving man. God, but his kisses are out there. If I'd known his kisses are like that, red-hot, blast-your-brains-out, I probably would have done something very bizarre within the first two hours of meeting him. He's so damn intense, it blows you away. I'd always known there is much more to him than meets the eye. There are so many fierce things raging through him sometimes. He just tries to hide them behind a neatly polished surface. But knowing there was something underneath that smooth, professional mask he'd created didn't prepare me for what I'd find once I'd started digging. And what I got out of the deal is a wildly emotional guy, and one hell of a sensual lover. Okay, so he doesn't talk much about what we're doing. Big deal. I don't care, as long as we *keep* doing it. And it certainly didn't look like we were about to stop now, with Fraser's hands all over me and his tongue down my throat. I got myself untangled just long enough to wriggle out of my jacket, then went back to the task at hand. Seemed like my lover agreed with me here - he grabbed my ass and yanked me closer, and I think I groaned into his mouth when I felt his hard cock press up against mine. Jesus H. Christ, so damn intense. This man is an *animal* once you unleash him. Pretending to be in control all day, but if you touch him the right way, he goes, like, berserk. Oh, *I* don't mind. I'm a sucker for Fraser going all primal. (No pun intended, of course.) After a while I figured there were way too many clothes between us, so I began to peel him out of his jacket, too. He worked with me here, and his hands were soon busy running up my sides and digging my shirt out of my jeans impatiently. See? My Mountie's a quick one, he catches up nicely. Then his hands were under my shirt and on my bare skin, and I almost lost it at the first feel of him touching me. I kissed him hard, and he went with it easily, his mouth hot on my lips, his tongue pushing inside, stealing my breath. He grabbed the hem of the shirt, and I felt him tug with a hard jerk... so hard my poor shirt lost the fight. The sound of tearing cloth was like a trigger. It made a wide-hot shiver run though me, and I groaned and tensed, and then we both stood there wide-eyed, panting, but perfectly still, our bodies close, so close, until it felt like I was getting boneless and slowly melting into him. I drew back a bit, just enough to stare at him and aim for a scolding look. Bet I failed miserably. "That's the third one you've ruined in two months." Hey, look at that. I could talk. He stared at me, blinking, then he huffed a quick "Terribly sorry." before he leaned forward again to kiss any other protests right out of my mind. Damn. The first time he'd done the shirt ripping thing, it had been an accident - and I'd almost come right in my pants. Seemed like my ever-vigilant Mountie had observed me a little too well. But I knew his weak spots, too, so I went down on my knees unceremoniously, ripped his jeans open and pushed his shirt up and out of the way until I could swallow him whole. God, I love it how his body arcs up and tenses like a bowstring when I do that. He's not a noisy lover, and he almost never talks during sex - big surprise. A couple of groans and tense moans are all I get out of him most of the time, but that's fine with me, too. Makes him seem even more intense. Like every small sound is wrung from him by force. And boy, do I love being that force. Fraser was all tense and taut when he slid his hands through my hair and down my neck, urging me on. For a moment I complied and sucked him harder, but then I drew back, to just lick him lazily and listen to him breathing hard. I think if someone had told me I'd end up doing this, say, six months ago, I'd have kicked 'em in the head. But that was before I had my eye to eye with Fraser's cock. No, I won't go into this 'beautiful', 'perfect' or 'work of art' crap you get in romance novels. Still, it *is* something else. I'm not talking measurements - those details are need-to-know only, and you definitely don't need to know. Let's just say it fits. You'll never think of going down on a guy as 'ick!' after one taste of Canada's Finest. So there I was, down on my knees in front of my very male lover, doing my best to suck rational thinking right out of him. I heard him moan, those strangled little sounds he makes when he doesn't want to let go yet, small noises deep in his throat while he presses out his breath through his nose. I love it when he's this close to losing it, and sometimes that alone is enough to get me off, too. Not this time, though. This time we both needed more. = = = = = When I raised my head, I met his eyes and found him staring at me. I mean, *right* at me, watching me suck his cock, and he was breathing so hard, you'd have thought he'd just run a mile. Geez. I'd never caught him looking before. My pants were way too tight all of a sudden, and I stood quickly, dragging myself up along his body, pushing into him, and he gasped for air. "Fraser." I murmured against his mouth, and he blinked and met my eyes, and my throat was tight with the heat I saw in there. "About what you said at the precinct..." My voice was so low I could barely hear it myself, but I knew he would understand, and I knew I had to go on, had to ask, had to take this one step further, because anything else wouldn't be enough anymore. "Were you serious?" His arm around my waist held me tight against his chest, so tight that I could feel his heart beat faster as he understood. But he didn't say anything for a while, just stared at me with those incredible eyes until I felt like drowning in the dark blue of them. Finally, he raised a hand and ran it across my cheek slowly, and then his fingers slid to the back of my neck, through my hair. "It was a figure of speech, Ray." he whispered, but I heard the catch in his voice, and the pulse in his wrist beat hard and fast against the side of my neck, and I knew the thought alone made him so hot it had to hurt. "I know." I watched him tilt his head to the side, watched him look at me, but not meeting my eyes, more like staring at my face, with his gaze sliding down to the corner of my mouth, and he looked like he was deeply lost in thought. His thumb moved slowly, stroking my cheek, then down my neck, and he still had this strange, distant expression in his eyes. So I leaned forward and kissed him, quick and messy, and just when he was about to get distracted, I drew back and gave him a lazy grin. "I wanna try it, Benton." I watched his eyes drift shut for a moment, and I swear, I could feel his cock jump against my stomach. He looked so hot that I was close to forgetting what I'd just offered and dropping back to my knees. But then he took another deep breath and opened his eyes, and it felt like my soul was being swallowed whole by the deepest of blues. "We'll need some sort of... lubricant. Oil." "Bathroom." I nodded, and he repeated the gesture. Nothing more, just that nod. And there I was, wrapped up in my lover's arms, turned on to the point of blasting a coronary, and wondering how the hell we should get our jellied legs to work with us here. = = = = = It turned out better than I'd thought it would, 'cause once we'd talked our muscles into moving, we seemed to be having a kick start. I was in my bathroom in no time, shedding shirt and pants on the way. The rustle of clothes behind me told me that Fraser was stripping down, too, and the knowledge that he was getting naked for me made my hands shake a bit as I rummaged through the various bottles on the board above the sink, searching for something we could use. (Hey, I'm no Boy Scout. It's not like I keep stuff like massage oil sitting around for such occasions. Anybody who shows up and spontaneously offers me a massage can bring his own oil.) I sensed him come up behind me, and a heartbeat later his naked chest was snug against my back, and boy, that felt good. "That one." he murmured into my ear as he slung his left arm around my neck to pick up a lotion (the one I'd overlooked because it was sitting right in front of me). Nodding, I took the bottle from his hand to take a closer look, see if we could use it, but then got a little sidetracked because it felt really nice that he'd left his arm where it was, with his hand trailing down my chest, and I found that I'd brought my free hand up unconsciously to stroke his arm while I read the label. And then... then I made the mistake of raising my head and looking in the mirror, and there I met Fraser's gaze. One look, nothing more. And still - it completely changed the way I saw him. Or myself. Us. For the first time I realized that there was an 'us', y'know. It was as if someone had reached out to pick up the partner-buddy-friend thing I'd always seen before and then decided to rip it into shreds and throw them up into the air, until finally the pieces stopped floating around and settled down in a new and weird pattern of completeness. I looked into that mirror, and I stopped seeing Yank and Canuck, Cop and Mountie... man and man. I'd called Fraser lover before, easily, but I think I'd never quite understood what it meant until I saw us standing together like this, naked, with Fraser's arm wrapped loosely around me. It was strange, because all of a sudden I could no longer distinguish between a 'him' and a 'me', and all I could see now was an 'us'. A unit. A... couple. It shouldn't have been a scary thought. But when I opened my mouth to tell him, my body gave shit about that, and I started to shake in his arms, and my throat shut up so tight I couldn't get a word out. But Fraser was Fraser, and so he knew it, felt it. He stared at the mirror that needed cleaning, stared at our reflection and held my gaze steadily. And then he suddenly smiled at me and said "Yes". One word. Just one word, spoken against my cheek, but it made all the tension flow out of me and left me feeling all fuzzy and content inside. The tightness in my throat was gone, too, and I felt no longer choked up, because Fraser knew, and Fraser understood, and Fraser had said yes, so there was nothing left that needed to be said. It must have shown on my face 'cause he gave me that smile again, that sweet pounce-me smile, and then he raised his left hand again to brush its knuckles across my cheek briefly. "Bed, Ray." he ordered softly, but this time it really took me a while to react because now I was the one lost in watching us in the mirror. Watching him stroke my cheek. Geez. Such an innocent gesture. And I'd never seen a more intimate one. I turned my head to look at my lover, and when I met his eyes, my pulse started doing back-flips. I grinned at him then, couldn't help it, just felt my mouth go wide with it, and I pressed a quick kiss to his lips to show him how he made me feel. "Bed." I agreed. I could do bed. Definitely. = = = = = So that's where I ended up, sprawled flat on my stomach, with Fraser stretched out beside me and his hand exploring uncharted territory. It should have felt weird (the concept, I mean), but it didn't. Not really. More like in a 'yeah, this is what we've been heading for' sense. Anticipation, but no anxiety, 'cause what he did felt too damn... interesting. Maybe that's because all I really noticed at first was Fraser's weight against me, his chest against my side, his right leg sliding over mine, between mine, as if he were trying to cover my body with his own. We're more or less the same height, but when we're in bed together, he sometimes just feels *big*. Not overpowering, just very... massive. Large frame you can hold onto, someone you can grab hard, and he won't break. It's a kick, and I think it gets to him the same way. It was a good feeling to have this broad chest pressed up against my side now, and I turned a little, leaning back into the half-embrace. He shivered and moved, too, and it was like he was trying to wrap himself around me, with his left arm coming up over his head, hand covering mine, and his body reacting happily to what we were doing. I think I gave a little grunt then because he'd started using two fingers, and that was something to get used to. So I pushed my right leg up a bit to give him more room, and he slid deeper inside, and I groaned, and then I felt a shudder run through his body. He breathed my name in a hiss, mouth almost buried into my neck, and I turned my head to look at him. It felt awkward the way I lay, but it was worth it when I saw his face, all sweaty and flushed. Like looking at the face of true desire. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, and that made me lean forward and run my tongue across the tense mouth, nipping the lips that parted hesitantly for me. I swear, I could get drunk from the taste of him sometimes. His eyes fluttered open again, and he stared at me with his eyes dark and his body thrumming with need. I couldn't help it then, I just jerked hard, pushed back on his fingers to feel his muscles tighten, feel his cock jump against my hip, to hear him gasp with the sudden rush of lust that made his control slip. Then he took a deep breath, and his fingers stilled inside me. I stared at him, waiting, burning, and he licked his lips. "Tight." he whispered finally, and I shivered at the one word, but I knew that it wasn't what he really wanted to say. "You're telling me?" He smiled at the question, and I laughed, but I was doing no better than him here, and so I fumbled to get one of my hands around to touch his cheek, asking him. "What?" He rubbed his face into the light touch and lowered his gaze to hide his eyes from me as he shook his head. "I'm... not sure." "Hey." I pressed my palm against his cheek so I could turn his face back to me. He complied and watched me as I leaned closer, and my heart was suddenly pounding because if he wasn't sure we could pull this off, he of all people... I breathed deep, and our eyes locked, and then the words came easy. "I can swallow you, I can take you." I said quietly, and he smiled at the words, and I did, too, because I felt so sappy all of a sudden. And before I knew it, my mouth went on without me. "I can take all of you." He blinked then, staring at me with this curious little frown, and his lips parted slowly. And I knew him, knew he'd ask something stupid, so I leaned forward and took his mouth rough, kissing him as hard as I could to pretend that I hadn't noticed that somewhere along the way we'd stopped talking about sex. And then... then his fingers... *twisted* inside me, and it was like he'd hit *the* spot, and I groaned into his mouth when my body came alive, twisting and jerking to get more of *that* sensation. I panted, and groaned, and cried out, and I think I even whimpered with need and begged for more. And I got more, because suddenly he was on his knees, twisting me, and his hand on mine held my arms down as he pushed hard inside me, pressing me into the sheets with his weight. I cried out, and his grip tightened, and for a second I was close to panicking, because that was *way* more than just his fingers, and because he felt so freakin' *big*, stretched out over me like that. I bucked against him, tried to fight his hands clutching my arm, holding me down and on my knees, but he only grunted, his face buried into my neck as he fought for control. Then he started moving, and from one heartbeat to the next I kinda... lost it. All I could feel was Fraser, deep up inside me, and then nothing else mattered except this. He worked me rough, and I loved it, threw myself back hard to meet his thrusts, and my poor lonely brain cell that had been left on duty told me that this was it, this was Fraser finally giving up control, and I remember that the thought felt weird because back then it seemed pretty obvious who was calling the shots here. But even that didn't matter any more as he shifted and hit me at another angle, and I think I screamed, because now I was the one going over the top, the one drowning in pure sensation. His groans mixed with mine, and the noises we were making sounded so damn obscene, and it felt good, so freakin' good... I moved with him, even as his hand lost its iron-like grip around my flesh, releasing me from the living trap I'd been in, and moved down to my cock instead, stroking me fast and furious. I groaned, and he thrust into me hard, again, and again, and again, until I cried out one more time, shaking beneath him, wanting more of him, wanting all he had to give. He shuddered, his muscles rippling, and I thought that this was it, but it wasn't, not really, not yet, and then I heard him gasp for air, and groan, and he cried out my name, like a long, long moan, and *this* was it, and I was coming, hard and fast, just from the sound of his voice, from the feel of his lips moving between my shoulder blades, from his teeth digging into the muscle there. And from the knowledge that he was there, too. Right along with me, every step of the way. = = = = = I'm not really sure how long it took us to come back to our senses after that. The first somewhat coherent thought I remember came... *much* later. And I have to admit, I didn't care pretty much for thought back then because the first thing I noticed was Fraser's big, warm body curled up against my side, with his face pressed into my neck and his arm wrapped around my chest. Which left me on my own for a while, to ponder the mysteries of the universe. Like, 'Why haven't we done this from day one?' or 'Why does my universe revolve around a Mountie lately?' I grinned and turned my head to look at him. Now that he was asleep, the smug little grin I'd seen earlier was back, and it still seemed out of place on *his* face, but then I shifted a bit to get comfy and grimaced when I realized that I'd be *sore* tomorrow. And that he'd have every reason to look smug about that. Fraser didn't as much as stir when I moved, and once again it surprised me that for a guy like him he has pretty weird sleeping habits. I mean, he's the one with the super-sensitive hearing and all kinds of other sensual gimmicks, and with those and his training, you'd probably expect a guy who wakes at the slightest stir of air. Yeah, me, too. Amazed the hell out of me when I found out that when he's gone, he's done with the world. You could fire a cannon right beside his bed, or get Tom Jones to sing at full blast for three hours, and I doubt he'd do more than scratch his ear. But hey, this is always a great chance to do some Fraser-watching, and I love those rare opportunities to take a peek at him when he's this relaxed. I craned my neck to get a better look at his face, but he grumbled a bit and tightened his hold on me, refusing to give me more than an inch. So I finally gave up and settled for running a hand through his hair, and as I ruffled it a bit more, I couldn't help thinking that I'd bet my turtle it would stand up straight and impeccable again as soon as Fraser was awake. The idea made me snicker, and that resulted in Fraser drifting another notch closer to me. One Mountie, out cold and extra-snuggly, coming right up. God, but that felt good. Who would have thought I could have just as much fun like this as I have during the activity that brings us to this point regularly? But then again, it had never really been about the sex between us. Okay, so we had done a lot of panting and sweating lately, and there weren't many opportunities we'd missed for getting naked with each other since we'd started this thing. But that wasn't what kept us going, what *had* kept us going in the beginning. Right from the start, it had been about so much more. Like, friendship. Partnership. Trust, and love. Love. I gave the concept a little time to sink in, and then I just lay there and waited for the panic that usually came along with the thought. It didn't, and that was the thing that finally scared the hell out of me. Jesus Christ, I was in love with Fraser. No... no, make that something else - we were in love with each other. And the weird thing is, it was okay. It was simple, and it was so easy with him because we *had* more between us that just raging hormones, and once this frantic urgency wore off, there would *still* be enough left to get us through a lot of... years. My God, years. I was already thinking *years* with him. I closed my eyes and tried to take deep breaths and stay calm, but my heart was thudding in my throat all of a sudden. He stirred against my side, and for a moment I wanted nothing more than wake him up, and tell him I'd figured out this 'l'-thing, and then maybe fuck him senseless again, just to see how this worked from a fresh perspective. But I sighed and told myself that he needed the sleep, and it was all right, because we'd have lots of long nights in front of us, and neither of us would spend them without the other. I think this was the moment when I found that I had to add another category for the people in my life. Now I have three of them. 'Safe', 'un-safe', and... well, 'Fraser'. 'Safe' and 'un-safe' at the same time. 'Un-safe', because now he doesn't just get under my skin, but is there all the time... and 'safe', because I know he'll never... does it sound as corny as I think it does when I say 'touch my heart in a bad way'? But that's what it is. I trust him with my heart. That's what makes him one of the 'safe' people, too. Only with him, I won't be alone in my bed at the end of the day. I laughed and ran a hand through his hair and down his back, and he made a content sound and tightened his hold on me. As if he'd sensed the turn my thoughts had taken in the last few minutes. Well. Being Fraser, he probably had. - the end - by Sammy Read my other stuff at Little Sammy's House Of Fun