Author's Website: http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Gallery/8741/jmgarden.htm

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, Alliance does, more's the pity.

Author's Notes: It is highly recommended that you read "MELTED CANDLES #1: EMERALD ICE" first.
Blame Evil Seed Cara for nagging, um, *encouraging* me to get the second installment done quick as a plot bunny. Also Thank You Kindly to all who commented on the first story in the series. There *will* be more. ;)

Story Notes: Pairing: Benny/Ray V. (perhaps?). Frankie Zuko's in here somewhere. :)
Category: Drama.
Rating: NC-17.
Warnings: Major angst. Darkness.

From "MELTED CANDLES #1: EMERALD ICE":

Ray was to his left, eyes boring into him. Ben put his arms behind his back, his leather jacket sliding back slightly. His chest canted forward, the wet material of his shirt stretching across his nipples, and he parted his legs, standing with one knee slightly bent. "I have a clause to that deal, however."

"Shoot," Frankie said with his ever-present amusement.

"I want the rest of the deal. I want to share your bed."

I
LIFEBLOOD

I lit
A hundred candles
In the hope
That she would return.

She came back,
And my soul melted,
The wick drowning
In its own hellfire.

I plunged myself
Into darkness
And dragged down
The one I love;
A slow, terrible burn,
'Til the Light was gone.

Now my life
Is misshapen,
Like cooling wax,
And I yearn
To see the Light
Once again.

If only...

Silence stretched in the den, the rain drumming loudly on the roof. Then an Italian explosion occurred to his left.

"What?!"

Frankie's look of surprise turned to his ever-present smirk. He ran his gaze over Ben's body, the Canadian willing himself not to tremble. He had seen that look of lust on other men's faces in the last five years.

I can do this.

"So, you want to share my bed?"

"I thought I was the only one to do that, Frankie."

Ben wished that he could read Ray's voice as well as he had done in the past. There were so many emotions mixed up in it that Ben could only recognize a few: anger, perhaps protectiveness, but something else that he was uncertain about in this dark den. It bothered him, but he couldn't think about that now. He had to keep a clear head while dealing with Zuko.

"Ray, Ray, Ray." Frankie's smirk lessened as he turned to his old friend. His voice softened as he said, "I love you. That won't change."

Ben did not dare to look at Ray. He kept his provocative pose, his fingers tight around each other behind his back.

Frankie returned his attention to Ben. "Deal, Fraser."

An Italian curse echoed loudly in the room, and Ray stomped out, slamming the door behind him. Frankie kept his attention on Ben.

"You'll be my bodyguard, paired with Ray. You'll go where I go, around town and out of town. You'll have free time when the other shift comes on. You'll live here in the house. And...you'll come to my bed when I summon you."

Ben nodded. "Deal."

Frankie cocked his head. "May I ask how you knew about Ray and me?"

"I was here once before, Mr. Zuko. The undercurrents were most...interesting. I deduced something like this might be going on."

It wasn't a complete lie. On some level, he had known. He just preferred not to tell Frankie that his bodyguards were loose lips and the two bums had overhead them.

Frankie depressed a button on the intercom on his desk and the butler answered the buzz.

"Arturo, show Ben to the room next to Ray's." His teeth gleamed in the rain-darkened gloom.

"Yes, Mr. Zuko."

"Dinner at six."

Ben nodded. He turned and followed the graying butler out of the den. He picked up his duffel bag and followed the man up the grand staircase, then into the room that Frankie had specified.

He lay the duffel bag on the bed. It appeared to be a comfortable bed. It was made of dark walnut, like the dresser and bureau and rocking chair in the corner. He went over to the window and looked out at the grounds. He could see the perimeter guards patrolling the estate. The rain was making the dirty snow lessen, but it was getting colder.

He sat on the bed. He had achieved his goal. He was close to Ray. During his time in prison, he had had almost too much time to think. Yet it had been good in that he had examined his feelings. He knew that he could not live without Ray Vecchio. Ray was his lifeblood. If Ray banished him from his presence, he would still stay in Chicago and watch from afar. He could not do anything else. The Hunger grew in him.

"Whither thou goest, I will go..."

He lay down on his bed to rest before dinner.

II
INSEAM

Dinner was a silent affair except for the rain still drumming on the roof. The dining room was large and filled with the heavy, dark furniture that pervaded the house. A large, oval mirror dominated one wall of the room. Ben sat to Frankie's left while Ray was to his right and opposite Ben. The food was excellent Italian cooking, though not quite as good as Rosa Vecchio's. Ben forced the pang down of the memories of a warm, Italian household and laughter and arguing around a big dining room table.

This meal was more like his grandparents' meals: quiet and with little fanfare. The tension was thick in the room.

Frankie sipped from his wineglass. In deference to his companions' teetotaling, there was cappucino for them instead.

"Ray, I want to go over some of the accounts with you tonight."

"Sure, Frankie."

"Then, Fraser, tomorrow we'll start making the rounds and acquaint you with the South Side again."

Ben nodded his head. "Certainly, Mr. Zuko." He could feel Ray's fury on him.

After dinner Ray and Frankie departed for the den, and Ben was left to his own devices. He returned to his room, standing by the window with his arms crossed.

The next morning he was presented with a gun and holster. He checked it carefully, then placed it in the holster he put on under his leather jacket.

The black limousine was waiting for them as he, Ray, and Frankie exited the house. It was still raining. Both Ray and Frankie looked very dapper in their suits and coats. Ben felt a little out-of-place in his T-shirt, jeans, and leather jacket, but it was all he had. He slid into the front seat next to Tonio, the chauffeur, and Ray went into the back with Frankie.

Ben nodded a little stiffly to Tonio, who smiled back and started the car. A young man of about twenty-five, he had large, dark eyes and black, curly hair that nearly popped off his chauffeur's cap. His fine, elegant fingers handled the steering wheel with skill. Ben abruptly turned away, reminded of another set of fingers that could do the same.

They made many rounds that day. Frankie did not introduce his new bodyguard though of course people took note of the beautiful young man in the jeans and leather jacket accompanying him and his known bodyguard. Frankie visited the offices of business executives glad to see him, and his own legitimate offices in a high-rise downtown. They even made a quick stop at a betting parlor, then returned home for dinner.

Once again all was quiet at the table, though Ray and Frankie discussed the day's events over dessert.

Once again they retired to the den while Ben went to his room.

Ben learned that there was an exercise room in the basement and checked it out before breakfast the next day. He was pleased with the equipment. If he was going to be served such sumptuous Italian meals on a regular basis as the last two dinners, then he had to keep fit. He would walk, of course, but other exercise would be beneficial.

He met Frankie and Ray at the front door. Ray refused to look at him.

"Fraser, you need to blend in more. We'll have to stop by Armano's and get you some proper clothes."

Ben glanced down at his jeans and T-shirt. "Yes, Mr. Zuko."

"Ray, you can help him out, can't you?"

Ray looked at Ben's clothes for a second. "Yeah, sure, Frankie."

"Good." Pleased, Frankie led the way to the limousine while his bodyguards took note of the surroundings.

At Armano's, an elderly Italian gentleman immediately came over to Frankie, effusive and speaking his native language. Frankie laughed and smiled and said, "We need to fit out my new bodyguard, Armano."

"Ah, yes." Armano looked at Ben with a professional eye. "Yes, yes, I have just the thing."

"Grazie".

The establishment was quietly elegant, mirrors scattered along the walls for the patrons' viewing. Ben caught sight of himself in one and wondered if this ex-convict could become an elegant gentleman.

"Armano, maybe some dark-blue suits?" Ray asked.

"Si, Raymondo."

Ray looked at Ben with a critical eye. Ben lapped up the attention, well aware of Ray's clothes sense. Ray reached over and touched the inseam of Ben's jeans while Armano was measuring his leg. Ben clamped down on his reaction, but a slight shiver went through him just the same.

"He is perfecto measurements, eh?" Armano asked.

"Yes." Ray's voice was neutral but Ben's heart raced.

Armano brought out some suits for Ben to try on.

"These," Ray said, choosing three of the six.

"Come, sir, to the back," Armano asked Ben.

Ben turned around and looked at Frankie. "I can't afford any of these suits, sir."

"Oh, don't worry, Fraser. I'm feeling generous today. I'll pay for your suits. After all, I have an image to maintain." Frankie's smile was almost feral.

Ben bowed his head in acknowledgment, then followed Armano to the back.

Ben tried on each suit, modeling them for Frankie and Ray, trying hard not to look at Ray while did so.

He glanced at the mirror and was startled. Who was this strange man in the mirror? He stared. It had been a long time since he had worn anything but prison blues or jeans.

Ray's reflection was directly over his right shoulder. Their eyes met for an infinite second, then both dropped their gazes.

"Oh, yeah, that suit is you," Frankie said. He sauntered over and fingered the material of the sleeve. "This is good for Sunday best. A little roomier, though, Armano. He needs room for a shoulder holster."

"Si, Senor Zuko."

"A little less fancy for everyday. He might end up in mud or the dumpster."

Ben nearly laughed. How many times had Ray made that compliment? Suddenly he could feel Ray's breath on the back of his neck. He stayed statue-still.

"We'll be back for the final fitting when you give the word, Armano."

"I can give you one suit today, Senor Zuko. Can you wait about twenty minutes?"

"For you, Armano?" Frankie clapped the older man's shoulder. "Of course."

Armano beamed and scurried off to the back room, suit in tow.

Ben pretended to be busy checking himself out in the three-way mirror, but in actuality kept his eyes on Ray as his partner talked to Frankie. He saw Frankie's hand rest briefly on Ray's forearm, then drop away.

Armano returned with the tailored suit for Ben, and he tried it on and modeled it for the Italian. Pleased, Frankie said to Armano, "Wrap it up."

They returned to the house for lunch, then Ben took a long walk through the woods surrounding the estate. His boots crunched on hoary ground, the wind blowing through the trees. He lifted his face to the weak sun, then he bit his lip and pushed his hands deeper into his lumber jacket.

When he returned to the house, he spent the rest of the day in the gym.

The next day found Frankie at the Coldcrest Country Club, his bodyguards eating at a nearby table while Frankie held court at a table with businessmen, some of the attendees Family-oriented.

Neither Ben nor Ray spoke as they ate, their eyes keeping tabs on everyone coming or going in the dining room. Ben was grateful for the use of the gym. All this fine food would make him a Canadian version of the Pillsbury Doughboy.

He wondered at his appetite. He had eaten just enough for sustenance in prison, his depression deep and ragged. Now, however, as frustrating as it was to be close to Ray but to be shut out at the same time, his appetite was ravenous.

It's Ray. Being near him. He gives off so much energy, so much lust for life despite his situation, subdued as he is.

Ben bit into the tender roast beef, his gaze following a waiter as he went by Frankie's table. He could smell Ray's Armani cologne. He wished that he dared to look at him, but he was intimidated by that green-eyed glare.

He glanced down at his suit. At least he didn't look out of place. He fingered the matching dark-blue tie that rested against a crisp, white shirt.

He reached out for the salt and his hand brushed Ray's, which was reaching for the pepper. A tingle jolted through his arm and he felt his breathing shorten. Ray's long fingers closed around the shaker and drew away.

Ben tried to ignore the butterflies flitting through his stomach. He took another bite of meat.

He sensed Ray tense suddenly, then noticed the stranger approaching Frankie's table. Ray's hand fluttered close to his holster and Ben did the same. Frankie noticed the newcomer, smiling and hailing him with Italian gusto. Ray and Ben relaxed.

Ben chewed thoughtfully as he continued lunch.

The next morning, Ben approached Frankie before they left the house for the day.

"Mr. Zuko, I'd like to request some time to go to a shooting range. I haven't fired a gun in five years."

Frankie smirked. "Understandable. Sure. In fact, we'll go this morning. You could use the opportunity to fix your sights, eh, Ray?"

"Sure, Frankie," Ray answered flippantly.

Ben's heart raced.

The shooting range was on the outskirts of the city, cleaner and better-maintained than the one used by the Chicago PD. Ben was grateful that no police officers were here. Soon enough they'd know who Zuko's new bodyguard was, and he had no desire to go through a confrontation with them right now.

Ben carefully checked out his gun, then shucked out of his suit jacket, Tonio offering to take it, and he sighted the target. Ray was suddenly right beside him, shirtsleeves rolled up and his strong forearms steady as a rock as he aimed. They both wore protection for their ears and Ray squeezed off the first round.

The crack! of the gunshots were sharp and piercing. Ben felt his groin tingle. He could smell Ray's Armani cologne and his natural scent as he prepared to fire.

He was almost clincially precise as he aimed at the round bullseye target and fired.

Bang, bang, bang!

Dead center.

Ray was just as good, each getting off their shots as one would shoot, then the other, Ben's heart rate increasing as he fell into a weird sort of sync with Ray.

Ray, Ben, Ray, Ben.

Ray, Ben, Ray, Ben.

They began to overlap, blending into perfect harmony as they blasted away at the targets as one. They re-loaded, mirroring each other, then spread their legs apart slightly and continued to fire in shooting stance.

Bang!

Ben smelled that heady cologne.

Bang!

Ben could feel the heat radiating off Ray's body.

Bang!

Ben brushed against silk and Aramni and could not quite suppress a shiver.

Bang!

The shells fell, spent, to the pavement.

Ray brought his gun up. Ben removed his headgear and heard him say, "I've shot my load, Fraser. What about you?"

Ben swallowed. "Yes, Ray."

The air throbbed between them.

"Excellent, excellent," Frankie approved, coming up to stand behind Ray. Very close. "I'm in good hands, eh?"

"The best, Frankie." Ray's voice was neutral but Benny detected a rawness: was it hurt, anger, humiliation? Directed at Frankie or himself? He didn't know and his heart ached.

Before, he could have read Ray with certainty.

Before.

The air fairly crackled as the two bodyguards followed their boss back to the limousine, Tonio handing them their jackets.

III
COBALT-BLUE

Ben paced his room. A work-out in the gym after dinner had not worked off the energy he felt building up in his body. He needed...

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting his sensory memory remember the scent of Ray. His groin twitched.

I need...

A sharp knock on the door interrupted his reverie. He quickly went over and opened it. He took a step back.

"Mr. Zuko?"

Frankie smiled. "My room. Eight o'clock. Robe only."

Ben nodded. His heart raced. With a shaking hand, he closed the door.

I can do this.

He went to the window and crossed his arms, gazing at the moonlight that streamed across the grounds, highlighting the dirty snow. It almost looked beautiful.

That's me. Soiled snow.

As he watched a squirrel dart across the lawn, the whispers started, reaching out from the darkest corners of the room...or his mind.

He stayed dressed until 7:55, then undressed and put on a cobalt-blue robe that he had purchased after getting the job. He had suspected that he would have frequent use of it.

When the grandfather clock in the hall started to chime, he left the room.

Two chimes.

He walked down the hall.

Four chimes.

He stood in front of the bedroom door.

Six chimes.

He pushed open the door.

Eight chimes.

Ray was there. In bed. With Frank Zuko.

Ben felt dizzy. Frankie saw him and waved him to come in. He forced his body to move.

He could feel Ray's glare on him.

"Welcome, Fraser."

Frankie's voice was highly amused. His dark eyes glittered as he raked the robed form with his gaze.

I can do this.

He couldn't say, I am a Mountie. That was Before. And would never be again.

He stood at the foot of the bed, waiting for his orders.

"Off with the robe, Fraser."

Whore.

That was the word that hung in the air. He removed the robe with a smoothness that surprised him. His nerves were screaming.

"Come on up and join the party."

He knelt on the big, blue-sheeted bed. The headboard was massive, dark walnut and intricately carved. Perhaps he would be able to make out the carvings when he lay flat on his back. Another board loomed up at the foot of the bed.

Frankie was looking at him with pure lust. He was afraid to see what expression was on Ray's face.

Frankie held out his arms as he lounged on the bed. "How about a kiss, baby?"

Ben crawled up the bed, leaning over Frankie. His body was slender, though not as slender as Ray's. Same olive tone. Very different eyes. He slowly lowered his body onto the Italian's, the man's chest hair tickling his own smooth chest. Their cocks touched. He pressed his mouth to Frankie's.

I can do this.

He smelled clean, not like...he savagely squashed down the memories.

His mouth tasted faintly of toothpaste. That was novel. He felt strong arms encircle his back.

He heard a hiss to his right, and then the bed moved. The door opened and slammed. Ben's muscles tightened.

For a long, agonizing moment, he was pressed close to the Italian body he didn't want, and then a voice said, "Go after him."

Surprised, Ben rose, seeing the half-amused expression on Frankie's face. He bowed his head for a brief moment in acknowledgment of this gift, then got off the bed and left the room, leaving his robe behind.

Ben saw Ray leaning against the wall at the end of the hall, his arms crossed. He was wearing his verdant robe, stark in the moonlight by the window. Ray was staring down at his bare feet.

Ben approached cautiously, his eyes focused on Ray.

"Why are you doing this?"

Ray's voice was quiet and haunted.

Because I love you.

"I'm responsible for putting you in hell, Ray. It's only right that I share that."

And that's partially true.

Ray laughed. Ben's heart ached at its bitter quality, so like the tone he'd heard when he'd first known Ray.

"So you think I'm in hell?"

"What else would you call being forced into the bed of a man you don't love?"

Green eyes glittered in the darkness. "What makes you think it's like that?"

An iciness developed in the pit of Ben's stomach.

"It's not, then?" Could jealousy be what he'd heard in Ray's voice before when he was unable to identify the emotion?

Oh, no, no, no. Please no.

Ray rested the back of his head against the wall, staring up at the moonlit patterns on the ceiling.

"At first it was like that. I loathed his very touch. I was nothing but Frankie's whore, selling myself to keep my family off the streets and me out of prison." Ben winced. "But you know what, Fraser? Back when we were teenagers, I loved him. He was my first love. Guess we can pick 'em, huh?" Ben flinched. "After what he did to Marco on the basketball court, pummeling his face to mush over that stupid pick-up game, I left him. Walked away. I was thinking of joining him in the Organization, you know? Be his right-hand man. Guess it was fate, Kismet, whatever, that I ended up that way after all." Ray shrugged. "I started up with Irene because she was safe, a female version of her brother without the darkness. 'He had a darkness inside him'." He laughed mirthlessly and Ben's heart twisted. "But a tiny part of me still loved him. You understand. Same with her." Ray did not see the pain that crossed Ben's face. "And that's why I hated him so much. Hated what could have been. Hated what he could have been. Because he's not all arrogance and violence and pettiness. What do they say? Love turned to hate is the worst hatred of all?" Ray lowered his head, rubbing his arms. "He's treated me right. He's never betrayed me." Ben looked as if he'd been punched in the solar plexus. "And in his own twisted way, he loves me." His voice grew softer. "Besides, five years is a long time; a long time to fight every day."

Ray moved away from the wall and started to walk down the hall. He stopped at Ben's quiet voice, so soft that it could barely be heard. He heard it.

"I will always be here, Ray. 'Whither thou goest, I will go.'"

For a long moment, Ray stood with his back to Ben, his arms crossed and his body still. Then he said, "Don't come back to the bedroom tonight," and walked away without looking back.

Ben obeyed him, returning to his room and curling up on the bed, naked and cold. The moonlight limned his body with silver, and his heart bled slowly. If Ray banished him, he would stay in this city and somehow be near him. He would as soon try to breathe without air as to live without Ray Vecchio. As he closed his eyes, his lashes were sooty on his marble-white cheeks.

Down the hall, Frankie Zuko laughed.