Note: The overall plot to this story was originally inspired by the song Fumbling Towards Ecstasy (Sarah MacLachlan), so I included the lyrics at the end.--silvina
Dropping his bags as soon as he was through the door, he undressed by the simple expedience of dropping his clothes directly onto the floor. He grabbed the complimentary robe from its hook, turned the radio up, and almost skipped to the bathroom in delight. Humming along absentmindedly, the sound of the shower running didn't register.
He dropped the robe onto the white faux marble countertop and pulled back the shower curtain. He was met with a burst of steam and a surprised exclamation.
"Excuse me! I'm afraid this shower is occupied!"
Even through his embarrassment, the voice sounded strangely familiar. Shocked, he dragged the shower curtain closed and grabbed his robe, not taking the time to put it on right side out. Red-faced, he made his way to the door and collapsed onto a chair.
The water was quickly turned off, and he could hear the squeak of the towel ring and the rustling sounds of someone drying off. A moment later, there was a soft knock on the bathroom door.
It wasn't like they were strangers; he'd seen Ben in the Mountie suit, now he had seen Benny in his birthday suit. "You might as well come out."
The door opened, and it was the face that went with that voice he'd know anywhere. The face was rather pink at the moment, either from embarrassment or from the warmth of the shower or both, and the dark hair was rumpled from being toweled dry. He didn't come all the way in, but stood somewhat nervously in the doorway. "Hi, Ray."
"Hi." He squeaked before clearing his throat and trying again. "Hey, Benny."
"Do you mind if I come in?"
Elegantly exhausted shoulders moved in a careless shrug. "Do I have a choice?"
"Well, I imagine a person could live for quite some time in a bathroom. There is an adequate supply of water, and--"
"Shut up, Benny."
"Understood."
"What are you doing here?"
"I was passing through on my way back to Chicago. And you?"
"I have some friends here in town."
Conversation ceased as they both felt awkward.
"Are you here with Stella?" Fraser blurted out.
"Are you here with cabana boy?"
"Who?"
"Kowalski. Stanley." He sneered.
"He prefers to be called Ray, and, no I'm not."
Ray was sorry he'd asked when Ben looked away. "Oh."
Again neither of them spoke for a while.
"Ray had some business to take care of here on the West Coast; San Francisco, I believe. He and I shared a plane from the Territories. We parted company at the airport-- he continued on south, and I remained here in Cascade."
Ray felt compared to share as well. "I hate bowling."
Ben blinked. "Ah."
Silence reigned supreme. Again.
"So, what are you doing here."
Ben looked puzzled. "I just..."
Ray smiled for the first time since the soon-to-be-infamous shower scene. "No, not here. What are you doing here? In my room?"
"I was under the impression it was my room. Perhaps I was given the wrong key by mistake?"
"Room 223?"
Ben came fully into the room and picked up the hotel key with its green number tag that lay on the bedside table. "223," he confirmed.
It took Ray a little while longer to find his key, but eventually he found it in the pocket of his now well wrinkled slacks. "223."
Together they stepped outside of the room so they could view the door clearly. "223." They intoned simultaneously.
"Oh dear."
"Let's go." Ray declared and started walking towards the elevator. He noticed that Ben wasn't following. "What's wrong, Benny?"
Ben looked at Ray then looked down at himself. "Clothes, Ray."
"Oh yeah."
Finally appropriately dressed, they headed for the lobby.
The hotel's front desk was unstaffed when they arrived.
"Now what?"
"We wait, I suppose." About five minutes passed without anyone appearing. "One would think that such a large hotel would have someone on duty at all times, particularly in the evening when people are likely to be checking in."
"Maybe that's why they screwed us over."
The beginning of his rant was interrupted by the arrival of a man in the hotel's uniform. "Can I help you?"
"Ah, yes. We have a, ah, situation."
"A situation?" The young man inquired.
"Yeah, a situation. One of you morons screwed up our reservations and put us in the same room."
"Ray..."
"You're not together?" Josh, as his name tag proclaimed him to be, inquired.
"No!" they denied.
"Oh, sorry. It's just, you look pretty familiar with each other. I didn't mean anything by it." He smiled apologetically.
"We. Are. NOT. Dating. He was my partner. Not my 'partner!'"
"Ray..." Ben turned to the receptionist, who was now looking highly embarrassed. "Sir, could you perhaps check your computer and see if there is another room available?"
"Sure, let me just check the computer. I'm sure that . . . " His voice faded and his face flushed as he looked at the screen he'd just pulled up. "Perhaps if I got the manager. . . . "
Ms. Woodruff-Smith appeared almost instantly. She had a bright, professional smile, and she greeted them politely. "Is there a problem?"
"A problem? No..."
"Yes!" Ray interjected, only to be silenced again by a quick motion of Ben's hand.
"We seem to have been mistakenly booked into the same room. This young man was in the process of locating a second room, but he appears to have encountered some difficulty."
"Oh yes. I'm terribly sorry. You see, we're hosting a Real Estate convention and we seem to be out of rooms for the moment. We could check with other hotels in the area, but I believe they're also filled."
"Well what are we supposed to do about it? You promised us both a room!"
"Ray, perhaps it might be better if I-"
"I have been going since some ungodly hour of the morning. My flight left Miami at 6 AM. I had a 3-hour layover in Houston. The airport lost my luggage for two hours. I showed up at my friends' apartment to find a note on the door saying 'Gone to Peru, be back soon,' the taxi left, and I tried to catch another one for forty-five minutes. I ended up taking the bus. I spent another forty-five minutes on that bus. The bus broke down. I got to the station just in time to see the bus I needed leaving. I finally managed to get something to eat at WeeniesNBuns! I want a shower! I want a meal! And then I want a BED!"
The professional smile faltered for a moment. "I'm terribly sorry, sir. I'll check with the other hotels and try to find something that will be acceptable. In the meantime, perhaps I could interest you in a complimentary cup of coffee and something from our snack bar?"
Anticipating an outburst from Ray, Ben cut in smoothly. "Thank you kindly. I'm sure we'll enjoy the chance to catch up. Ray?"
Ray found himself being smoothly maneuvered by the elbow to an empty table in the lounge. They quickly segued into their normal banter, as if they hadn't been separated for seven months. In no time at all Ms. Woodruff-Smith was headed their way again.
Approaching their table, she hesitantly cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, sirs. It seems that all the hotels in the area are booked due to the Real Estate convention."
"So what are we supposed to do now?"
"Since you were both booked into the room, perhaps you could share it for the night? The bed in the room is a double but housekeeping will bring up a spare bed, of course. And because of the inconvenience you can have the room for half price and you'll receive a substantial discount on your next visit at our hotel."
"That would bemph-" Ben's words were obscured by a large hand placed across his mouth. He glared at Ray but experience with his partner made him pause.
"Let me get this straight. You screw up, and we get the room for half price?"
"And a discount on your next stay."
"What makes you think we'll be back? If I visit Jim and Blair again, I'll make sure they're in the country first! How's about you give us the room for free and you can keep your future discount."
After giving the idea a moment of thought, she agreed.
"Come on, Benny. I need a shower, and you need to order room service so I can eat something that doesn't contain the US RDA of rat parts."
"Now, that's just silly, Ray. Rat meat is just as nutritious as beef or pork. It's only a cultural taboo that--"
"Shut up, Fraser."
"Understood." Ben smiled, and Ray couldn't quite help smiling back in spite of his foul mood. With a final glare at the apologetic Ms. Woodruff-Smith, he led the way to the elevator.
"Hello? Yes, this is room 223... I'd like to order a turkey sandwich with swiss cheese on wheat bread, with a dill pickle on the side. To drink?" He paused, then decided that Ray really didn't need any more caffeine. "Water, please. And a cup of chamomile tea. Thank you kindly." He hung up the phone and wandered around the room. It was fairly large, certainly larger than he would have chosen for himself if the airport hadn't made the arrangements for his layover. Two color-coordinated abstract prints decorated the wall above the bed, and he inspected them indifferently. One was labeled "Flight" and the other "Success," and both were done in the insipid style common in hotel artwork. He turned away with a sigh and sat down in the room's one armchair. The shower was still running, so he turned on the television. He found what seemed to be a "behind the scenes" show on the Centers for Disease Control and settled in to wait for Ray.
Stepping into the shower stall, Ray sighed gratefully as the pounding hot water hit his skin. Always the hedonist, the abundance of hot water in a decent hotel was definitely appreciated. At home he sometimes ran out of hot water after one of his sisters had taken a 'beauty shower.'
He'd grown to prefer the buzz cut for several reasons, not the least of which was to maintain his je ne sais quoi, and while it didn't really require much in the way of shampoo and conditioner, he enjoyed the act of shampooing. Rubbing firmly at his temples, he pushed away the vestiges of a headache that had been threatening since the luggage incident. He fought the urge to kiss the tile walls; he didn't love the shower that much.
"You order an extra bed?"
"Ah, yes; thank you kindly." He reached out to help with the rollaway cot, but the bellhop waved him away and pushed it past him into the room.
"That's all right, I've got it. I'll just set this up for you-- over here all right?" He rolled it up to the window, effectively blocking the armchair, and unfolded it with a creak. "There's a trick to it. I brought up the sheets, a blanket, and a pillow-- if you need more, just let me know. You want me to make it up for you?"
"No, thank you, Don."
The man looked startled, then glanced at his name tag and smiled. "All right, then. You have a good night, sir."
"Thank you kindly." He shut the door behind the whistling bellhop and turned to the task of bedmaking.
Noises outside the bathroom startled Ray to alertness. He'd been zoning on the humid warmth of the shower, but thankfully he hadn't fallen over. Not that it hadn't happened before after a long day, just that this time he'd managed to avoid doing it. Sensing that he'd avoided finishing long enough, he quickly soaped up and rinsed off. After a brisk toweling he pulled the robe onto his shoulders, belted it, and left reluctantly.
Ben was fluffing the pillow as the bathroom door swung open. He dropped the pillow into place and tucked the blanket neatly around it, glancing back over his shoulder as he did so. "Hello, Ray. Feeling better?"
"Maybe. What's that?"
"It's a bed, Ray."
"I can see that. I mean, what's it for."
"It's for sleeping in, Ray."
Laughing felt good. "I missed you, Benny."
Ben's smile, though half-hidden as he made some minute adjustment to the blanket, could have warmed the hotel for a week. "I've missed you, too."
They matched grins over the bed as the conversation paused momentarily. Feeling warm and fuzzy, Ray retreated. "So who gets The Rack?"
"I'll sleep on the cot."
"But you were here first. I'll take the cot."
"I don't mind, Ray."
"Of course not. You're a Mountie."
"I don't see what that has to do with it. I was merely referring to the fact that I am used to fairly rustic sleeping arrangements, while you seem to be accustomed to more luxurious arrangements."
"Get in the bed, Benny. First come, first served. I'll take the cot."
"No, no, I insist. You take the bed."
"Will you just take the bed already before I change my mind?"
"Oh, Ray, don't be silly. I'll be fi--" He sat down on the edge of the cot to prove his point, and the last word was cut off as it gave way beneath his weight. He jumped up quickly, and the two ends of the bed sprang together with a metallic clang.
Nervously Ray muttered, "I guess that settles that. Maybe we can get them to bring up another one?"
"Or we could share," Ben offered tentatively.
"Uh. Just give me a pillow and a blanket. I'll just stretch out on the chair over there. It'll be fine."
"Don't be ridiculous. If you're really uncomfortable with the idea of sharing the bed, I'll sleep on the floor. I'll be far more comfortable there than you will be in the chair."
"Fra-ser! I'm not going to let you sleep on the floor!"
"Ray, I've been sleeping on the ground for the last seven months. At least the floor doesn't have rocks. I'll be quite all right, I assure you."
"Don't be masochistic Fraser. I don't think the chair is that bad."
"I don't see why either of us has to sleep on either the chair or the floor. It isn't as though we haven't shared sleeping accommodations before, Ray. Under the circumstances, it seems to be the sensible thing to do."
Out of excuses and fighting a yawn, Ray gave up. "Fine. Just keep your hands to yourself, Boy Scout."
"I don't believe the Scouts are well known for accosting people in their sleep, Ray."
"There'll be no accosting of anybody or anything. You got me Fraser? I'll take this side and you take that side." He pulled the light blue comforter down halfway on one side and walked to his bags to take out a pair of pajamas. His stomach growled audibly as he stood up to unfold them.
"I ordered dinner," Ben mentioned. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I ordered a turkey sandwich. I seem to remember--"
"Turkey and swiss on wheat with a -"
"Dill pickle on the side." They smiled at each other.
The moment continued far longer than the similar one earlier until there was a knock at the door and a voice called out, "Room Service."
Ray grabbed his clothes and went to the bathroom to get dressed, and Ben went to the door. "Yes?"
Their waitress had brilliant pink hair and was slouching against the doorframe, looking down at the slip of paper in her hand. "Yeah, you order a--" She caught sight of Ben and suddenly stood up with evident interest. "Turkey sandwich?"
Ben nodded. "Thank you kindly." He held out his hand, but as with the cot, he was bypassed.
"No, let me get it for you." She looked up at him with a sultry expression as she pushed her cart into the room with just a bit more motion in her hips than he thought was strictly necessary. With an inward sigh and an outward smile, he followed.
The pink-haired girl was neatly arranging the napkin and silverware-- unnecessary for a sandwich, he reflected-- when he reached her. "Really, I can take it from here. You've done quite enough."
She pouted briefly, but allowed herself to be escorted to the door. "If you need anything, just call. Ask for Eleanor." With a waggle of blue-lined eyebrows, she was gone. The bathroom door opened just as the bedroom door closed, so he didn't hear Ray's entrance.
"Room service bring my sandwich?"
Ben jumped, then turned. "Ah... yes. The staff here is... most helpful."
"Thanks. I'm starving." Ray pulled the cart to the sofa chair and sat down. In 2.45 seconds he had devoured the entire sandwich. The water followed in almost one gulp. Ray eyed the pickle with a smile before it disappeared instantly. From start to the last wipe of the napkin, the meal had lasted only seconds. Ben watched with an expression somewhere between surprise and amusement.
"Would you like me to order something else?"
"Nah. I'm fine."
"All right." Ben picked up his mug of tea and sat on the bed opposite Ray. "So, ah... how did you enjoy your time in Florida?"
"It was all right. How was the tundra?"
"Delightful."
"Ah."
"Ah?"
"Ah."
"Ah." Ben watched him intently.
Ray grinned. "So, what now?"
"I'm not sure. Perhaps my old job will be available-- I understand it's not a very popular assignment."
"You really want to go back to standing guard and running errands?"
Ben grew suddenly quiet and serious. "No. But I don't think I want to go back to my life in the far North, either. I enjoyed my time there very much, but something was missing. That's why I returned when Ray did."
"He's back too?" Ray's voice held a curious tone, half question, half accusation.
"I don't think he intends to return to Chicago for some time, if at all. My understanding was that he planned to remain in San Francisco for several weeks before moving on to visit his parents in Arizona. We talked occasionally during our months together, and he doesn't seem to feel there is anything left for him in Chicago."
"Oh." Whatever he might have said was obscured by a knock at the door. Grunting, he stood up and headed toward the door, intercepting Fraser on the same course.
Ray got there first, opening the door to find a pink-haired, blue-eyebrowed young woman waiting eagerly on the other side. Her face fell in disappointment.
"Can I help you?"
"Uh... I was looking for..." She peered around him into the room and caught sight of Ben, and her face lit up again. "Hey! There you are." She pushed past Ray, who stared after her with an expression of disbelief at the people Benny seemed to know.
Eleanor came to a halt just inside Ben's personal space and looked up at him shyly. "I brought you something." She held up a dish filled with a gooey-looking dessert.
"Er... thank you kindly, but I didn't order this."
"That's all right-- I wanted you to have it. Go ahead, on the house." She smiled up at him.
Ray watched with a smirk as Ben tried to maintain a distance from the young woman. Every time he moved back, she stepped forward.
"It's good," she insisted. "It's my favorite thing they make here."
"I'm sure it's delicious, Miss...?"
"Eleanor."
"Miss Eleanor. However, I did not order this dessert. Now, I'm sure you had the best of intentions, but my friend and I," he retreated to a position nearly behind Ray, "would like to get some sleep. So if you wouldn't mind--"
Suddenly the pink hair that had been following him took a sharp dive as the woman tripped over Ray's suitcase, sending the peach cobbler flying. It landed squarely on Ray's freshly washed and pajama'd shoulder.
Ray watched in shocked amazement as sticky, clingy, gooey, gummy peach cobbler flew threw the air and headed his way. Why he was surprised at the disaster, he wasn't sure. He'd forgotten how being around Fraser had a direct correlation to his cleaning bills.
"Shit! I am so sorry, sir!" She picked up the broken pieces of the dish and started scooping handfuls of peaches and syrup from Ray's clothing, plopping them into the largest piece. "Look, I'll go grab some cleaning stuff and come back and take care of that, OK? I am SO sorry."
"Miss, that's not ne-" Ben's words were lost as a pink-haired twister blew out the door.
The second the door closed Ray recovered enough movement to turn the deadbolt. At second thought, he also set the door chain and the kickplate.
"Ray-"
"No, Benny. I don't care if it was an accident. I don't care if it isn't the polite thing to do. The only thing I want to do right now is keep her away from me, and get this" he gestured down his shirt, "crud off of me."
"Let me help." Ben picked up the napkin from the Room Service cart and began to mop up, ignoring Ray's protests. "Perhaps you should take a step backward," he suggested, indicating Ray's still-bare feet surrounded by the fragments of broken china that Eleanor hadn't managed to pick up.
They were both wiping globs of peach from his shirtfront. Inevitably their hands collided, and Ray pressed Ben's hand flat on his chest. Ben made a small noise, and Ray looked up.
"Ray, I..." He looked up, something more than the surface confusion hiding in his eyes.
"I know." Ray ran a finger down Fraser's jaw. "You missed a spot."
A small smile flickered over Ben's face. "I believe you're right," he murmured, slowly tracing patterns on the sticky fabric.
Their voices had lowered to whispers. "Benny-"
Ben allowed his hand to drop as he stepped forward. They stood inches apart, barely touching. "Yes?"
Ray didn't answer in words. He answered in the only way he knew how, by touch. A soft kiss lasted forever and for only a second before they were touching more, moving closer. Their arms wrapped around each other, holding, stroking, caressing, and suddenly letting go when Ben's peach-covered hand came up to cup the back of Ray's head. They sprang apart, Ben staring at the remnants of goo on his hand and Ray raising his to touch his now-syrupy hair.
"Oh dear."
"Is this your version of a dirty mind?"
Ben stared, then slowly began to laugh. "I'm sorry, Ray, I just..." The words dissolved into more laughter, and after a few seconds, Ray joined in. He ran a finger through the syrup now residing on Ben's blue shirtfront and smeared it across his cheek, ending with a brush across the lower lip.
"You know what I think?"
Ben shook his head.
"I think we should share another shower. It is how we started this evening."
"Imagine how much time we could have saved had we simply remained there. Not to mention how much peach cobbler." He ran a finger through the syrup on his cheek and tasted it. "She was right, though, it is quite good."
Ray watched avidly as Ben licked the peach cobbler off his finger in an oddly sensual move. He reached in and licked Ben's lip to try the dessert for himself. "It is good."
"Maybe we should order some more."
Ray tugged and prodded Ben towards the bathroom. "If you think I'm letting that girl anywhere near you, peach cobbler or not, you're insane." He closed the door behind them and locked it. "Just in case."
Ben smiled and took hold of Ray's shirt, undoing the top button. "Your clothes are sticky."
"Can't have that, now can we. I guess it has to go. 'Course your shirt is sticky too... here, let me help you with that." Almost every layer of clothing somehow became sticky with peach cobbler, in defiance of the laws of probability and permeability. But of course, there was no accounting for the physics of desserts, and they simply concentrated on removing the soiled articles.
Ben slid Ray's pajama bottoms down, leaving a trail of syrup on his boxers in the process. "Do you suppose," he murmured, "that they have an overnight laundry facility in this hotel?"
"Do you suppose that what's her name will be here tomorrow morning? I'm thinking breakfast in bed."
"She can't possibly work all night and all morning."
"Good. Although I think we'll be sleeping in."
"We have plenty of time. My flight doesn't leave until tomorrow.." Ben was startled by Ray suddenly pulling away. "What's wrong, Ray?"
"I completely forgot! My flight back to Chicago is at 1:00 pm."
"Oh." Ben thought a moment. "Do you suppose it would be possible for one of us to change our flight? It would be only practical for us to be able to share transportation to and from the airport."
"I had to threaten the agent to get on that flight. It was already overbooked. What about yours?"
"I have no idea. I was originally supposed to fly out this evening, and was placed on this flight when I volunteered to give up my seat to another passenger. That would indicate that there was extra room as of five o'clock today."
"Hold that thought." In an instant he had the door unlocked and a Ray-colored streak was at the phone. After getting the number from the desk clerk, he called the airlines 24 hour phone number and was able to put himself on the same flight. He was even able to arrange a seat next to Ben's. The second he hung up, he raced back to the bathroom and the shower.
"I take it you were successful?"
"Seat 7a."
"That would be the--"
"Seat next to yours," Ray finished for him.
"How--?"
"Consider it part of my je ne sais quoi."
"Have I ever told you how much I admire your je ne sais quoi?"
"Perhaps you'd care to demonstrate? I've never taken a shower with a Mountie before. Is it true you always get your man?"
"It's not our motto, but perhaps you could call it a tradition."
Ray turned the handle until the water coming out of the shower was hot. "There's something to be said for tradition."
"I've always thought so." He stepped into the shower and held out a hand for Ray, who took it and followed him into the small space.
Ray pulled the shower curtain closed behind him and gave Benny one of those sudden, blinding smiles that always did the Mountie in. "Hello, Benny," Ray said quietly.
Ben just smiled back. The two men looked into each other's faces, smiling nervously, carefully keeping their eyes from traveling downwards.
Ben reached up slowly and touched Ray's cheek lightly, brushing it with just the tips of his fingers. Ray smiled and cupped Ben's cheek in the palm of his hand, then leaned in for a gentle kiss.
They moved a couple steps backward, and suddenly they were under the hot stream of water, which only seemed to enhance the kiss. Ray pulled away and smiled at Benny, brushing the wet hair away from Ben's face.
Ray paused and frowned as he spied a scar on Benny's temple, just under the hairline. The scar looked fairly new; it was just starting to fade. "Benny, what's that?"
"Hm?" Ben blinked. "Oh, that. That is a result of an unfortunate accident in which the dogsled hit a rock, causing me to fall off the dogsled and also hit a rock."
"My God, Benny!" Ray ran a finger gently over the scar, then kissed it. "I can't leave you alone for a second, can I?"
"No," Ben grinned, then wrapped his arms around Ray's waist, pulling him close and holding him tightly against his body. The kiss this time was neither gentle nor tentative; both men feeding hungrily off each other. Ray pushed Ben up against the wall of the shower and pressed his body even closer to Ben's.
Ben broke the kiss. "Ray," he gasped, "Ray, we need to slow down."
"No we don't," Ray said, his voice as harsh and breathless as Ben's.
"Ray..."
"Later, Benny. There'll be time for nice and slow later. But right now I need you. I need you *now*, Benny. Oh, God, baby, I want you so bad."
He took Ben's mouth into another kiss, and Ben responded eagerly, all his reservations forgotten. He needed Ray, too; wanted him. And Ray's words- not to mention the way Ray was kissing him- had notched his arousal level up several notches.
So Benny surrendered to the moment completely, running his hands down Ray's back to hold his buttocks. That was probably not the best move he could have made as far as steadying himself or calming himself down.
He ran his hands over Ray's ass again and again, stroking, squeezing and fondling it; thoroughly enjoying the firm, muscled flesh under his hands.
His hands on Ray's buttocks had the added benefit of pressing Ray's hips into his, and their cocks were rubbing together delightfully.
Between the steam and heat from the shower, oxygen deprivation from the kiss, and the overload of emotion and sensations, Ben was becoming decidedly light-headed. He broke the kiss and leaned his head back against the shower wall, hoping he wouldn't ruin the encounter by doing something as horribly embarrassing as passing out.
Ray buried his head against Ben's shoulder and continued grinding his hips into Ben's, thrusting against him. Ben could tell that Ray was speaking, but he could only make out the occasional word, like "Benny" and "Caro".
"Ray," Ben began whispering over and over, "Ray." His cries got steadily louder as his passion and intensity increased, and finally he screamed out his lover's name, the beautiful sound echoing back at them off the bathroom tiles. Ben came, and then clung onto Ray for dear life as he legs threatened to give out beneath him.
With a final cry, Ray came, his seed spilling over Ben making the water of the shower seem icy in comparison. Ray slumped limply against Benny, and Ben tightened his arms protectively around him, then eased them both to the floor of the shower as his strength finally gave out.
The two men sat there for a long time, Ray lying against Benny and Ben lying against the wall of the shower. After a few minutes, Ben pulled away enough to place a kiss against Ray's lips. "Come on, love, we need to move."
"Why?" Ray asked.
Ben smiled and stood up slowly, pulling Ray up with him. The two men quickly rinsed off in the rapidly-cooling water, and Ray seemed to revive a little bit. Ben turned the water off and pulled the curtain back, then stepped out of the shower.
Grabbing the last dry towel from the rack, he turned back to Ray and thoroughly dried his lover, starting with his head and working his way slowly down his body. Ray smiled under the loving attention, and stepped out of the the shower to stand next to Benny on the bath mat.
"Where's another towel?" Ray asked, looking around.
"We used them all," Ben told him.
"I guess we'll just have to share," Ray grinned. Taking the damp towel from Ben's hands, Ray dried him off as much as he could. "Benny, you're still damp."
"That's all right, Ray."
"I don't know. We'd better get you into bed right away. I wouldn't want you to get a chill and catch a cold."
"Ray, it's all right, I never-"
Ben's words were cut off as Ray gave him a kiss. "It never hurts to be careful, Benny." Ray's face was serious, but his eyes were sparkling.
"Understood," Ben nodded. He tried to be serious as well, but couldn't keep the smile off his face.
Ray led Benny into the bedroom and over to the bed, fussing over him as he got him settled into bed and tucked the covers around him. Ray then slipped into bed next to Benny and moved next to him, all his earlier admonitions about personal space completely forgotten.
Ben pulled Ray closer, until Ray's head was lying against his chest;
and Ray smiled happily. He lay quietly, relaxing as the strong,
steady heartbeat beneath his ear lulled him towards sleep. "Hey,
Benny?"
"Hmmmm?" Ben sounded more than half-asleep himself.
"Welcome home."
Sarah McLachlan, "Fumbling Towards Ecstasy"
All the fear has left me now. I'm not frightened anymore.
It's
my heart that pounds beneath my flesh. It's my mouth that pushes
out this breath.
And if I shed a tear I won't cage it. I won't fear love.
And if I feel a rage I won't deny it. I won't fear love.
Companion to our demons, they will dance and we will play.
With chairs, candles, and cloth making darkness in the day.
It will be easy to look in or out, upstream or down without a thought.
And if I shed a tear I won't cage it. I won't fear love.
And if I feel a rage I won't deny it. I won't fear love.
Peace in the struggle. To find peace and comfort, on the way to comfort.
And if I shed a tear I won't cage it. I won't fear love.
And if I feel a rage I won't deny it. I won't fear love.
I won't fear love. I won't fear love . . .