Fraser v. Ray Vecchio

"Brussel Balls"

as penned by Arkady Bogdanov
RrArkady@aol.com

Warnings: NC-17 M/M encounter, PWP (or so I am told), vegetable cruelty,
usage of at least one truly horrific metaphor/simile and creative usage of
"smart ass." Based on a true event. No, really. You guess which part.

Spoilers: "The Man Who Knew too Little"

Disclaimer: these men are not mine, they belong to Alliance and Canada and
even occasionally their wives. Do not try to sue me, unless you want a couple
of movie posters and a collection consisting of mainly tattered paperbacks,
cuz that's all I got!

***********
As sunlight faded from the windows of their apartment, Fraser peeled off the
heavy layers of red serge and breathed a sigh of immense relief. It had been
another hot day in Chicago. Even Ray said the city had been trying to set a
new heat record for July… Ray. Fraser thought longingly of his partner, who
at the moment was inbound from a working vacation in Florida.
The detective had jumped at the opportunity to attend the police convention
he missed the year prior. The beach, great weather, little responsibility; it
was too much to miss out a second time around. Without Fraser or federal
witness, Vecchio had set off in the Riv, this time assured that he would make
the conference ahead of schedule. Plenty of time for a little rest and
relaxation.
The Mountie felt warm just remembering Ray's send off. Sadly, duties at the
Consulate had kept him from taking a few of his amassed vacation days to
accompany Ray. The aide to a Canadian diplomatic envoy had gotten into legal
trouble and Thatcher couldn't afford to lose Fraser, even for two days. God
forbid Turnbull be required to take on any major responsibilities. He moved
his mind to far happier thoughts.
The welcome home would be even better.

Heat wafted up from the stove as Fraser carefully prepared brussels sprouts
with bacon, the way Ray preferred them cooked. Stuffed pork chops had already
been placed to bake in the oven and the rice would only take a few minutes
longer. All that was missing was a certain Chicago cop.
Looking down at himself the mountie began to wonder if they would even make
it through dinner. Boxer shorts and an apron tied loosely at the small of his
back seemed to indicate a more "Come hither" attitude than he had originally
intended. It was just so warm in the apartment…
"I hope I don't look too needy," Fraser murmured to himself as the phone
rang. He turned the heat down under the sprouts and crossed the room to pick
up Ray's phone. He was still getting used to having one around at home, but
Vecchio had insisted when they moved in together.
"Good evening," the mountie said.
"Constable Fraser?" a familiar female voice asked as his heart sank.
"Yes, Inspector Thatcher."
I know it's your night off, and you probably have plans," she paused,
carefully weighing what she had to say next, "but I need you at the Consulate
right away. The envoy is here, and if something isn't done soon he'll throw a
tantrum. I'm afraid if Turnbull brings out his goulash things might get ugly."
"I'll be there in 12 minutes, sir." Fraser said, hoping the growing ache in
his boxer shorts wasn't being broadcast over the phone. Thatcher's sigh of
relief only worsened things. "Even the best laid plans…" the Mountie quoted
to himself.
"Thank you, Constable," she nearly shouted, and hung up. As the receiver
clicked home the Mountie thought he could hear the sound of breaking china.
"Oh dear," he said to the now silent phone, and nearly cursed Ray for
insisting they own one. Almost painfully Fraser walked to the closet and
stared at the red serge as it hung neatly on a hanger. Duty took precedence
over Ray again, and the ache grew just below his belt. He pulled on the
uniform once more and left dinner on a plate for his lover, next to a brief
note, and departed for the Consulate.

***

"Hey, Benny!" Ray called out to an empty apartment. "I'm home…" The
detective's voice trailed off as eyes fell upon the note and neatly
saran-wrapped dinner. His heart sank below waist level. The note, almost
messy by Fraser's usually stiff Mountie standards, read,
Ray, my presence was unavoidably required at the Consulate. Please accept my
humblest apologies. I will make it up to you later - Benny
"Shit," was all Ray could say. The conference had been a truly
miserable experience. A bunch of rude northern cops, all stuck inside the
crowded confines of a two star hotel during Florida's worst summer rainstorm
in recent years. Worse than that, they were rude, horny cops. Ray hadn't
heard worse, more disgusting come-ons since a bar mitzvah he attended in
Queens at fourteen years of age. And those were the women. He shivered
involuntarily. All Vecchio wanted was to come home to sweltering, sunny
Chicago and make passionate love to Fraser the whole night through. It wasn't
too much to ask, was it?
Ray dumped all his things in the bedroom and returned to the kitchen.
Benny wouldn't appreciate the mess, but under the circumstances, he would
understand. Removing the plastic wrap from his dinner, Vecchio sighed. For a
dinner they probably never would have made it through, his lover had really
gone all out for him this time. Ray could understand the feeling that drove
Fraser, as a dull ache pervaded his system.
Frustrated, he shoved his plate into the microwave on high and went to find a
beer in their crowded refrigerator. As a Labatts surfaced (bought in honor of
the Mountie, though he still persistently refused to drink alcohol) Ray heard
a dull pop emanate from the direction of the microwave. Beer in hand he
paused the warming cycle and opened the microwave door. A bemused expression
flickered across the detective's face.
One of the brussel balls had exploded, spattering flecks of green plant life
across the microwave's formerly white interior. The ball itself now resembled
a spent firecracker, one side blown out. Ray smiled and used a fork to brush
all the green balls into a small bowl. As he heated up the rest of dinner it
occurred to Vecchio that some fairly strange things went on in that
apartment. He looked forward to telling Fraser, if the cop could get a word
in edgewise.

***

The apartment was perfectly dark as Fraser entered it. The conflict
was resolved, and they diplomatic envoy temporarily appeased. It had been
like talking a hyena away from its dinner, but with Thatcher's help and
Turnbull sent home, they had succeeded. For a moment he worried that Ray
might not have made it home just yet. His dinner would be spoiled by now…
A single match lit in the doorway to their bedroom, illuminating the
hand that held it, and a single white candle. The perspiring Mountie breathed
an outward sigh of relief as his eyes adjusted to the weak light. The Italian
hand lit its candle just before the match winked out. Fraser could see the
outline of his lover now, warm and inviting.
"Welcome home, Benny," Vecchio smiled.
"But it is I who should welcome you home, Ray," Fraser corrected.
They stood frozen for a moment, staring longingly at each other. In a
heartbeat the Mountie strode across the room and enveloped his partner in
strong arms and red serge. The pair backed into the bedroom together, and Ray
detached an arm to leave their candle on the windowsill.
"I missed you," whispered Vecchio, kissing his lover hard and fast.
"And I you, Ray," Fraser responded, a sizable lump growing in his
trousers.
"You really ought to be more careful about what you leave me for
dinner, though," the detective grinned. "Those brussel balls were
combustible."
"The proper name would be 'brussels sprouts,'" Fraser corrected as
his partner launched a futile attempt at prying the buttons holding the
mountie's coat on. "A vegetable so closely related to cabbage would hardly be
combus-" he suddenly found himself cut off as Ray's tongue slipped into his
mouth. Fraser smiled as much as one could with his mouth full; the cop's
hands had grown more desperate. Even after all their time together Vecchio
still had trouble getting past the red RCMP tunic.
"Allow me to be of service," Benny said, pulling back for a moment.
"Polite as always," Ray mumbled and sank to his knees. The boots and
trousers he could handle, as Fraser hurriedly removed his tunic. Still, since
the two had started their relationship the jacket had needed mending on
several occasions. The buttons just couldn't seem to stay on…
In less than a minute the Canadian stood as naked as the day he was
born, smiling the odd 'happy mountie' grin unabashedly. His erection stood
out firmly like a flagpole in still air. That could wait another moment or
two.
"Now Ray, this doesn't seem quite right. Allow me to reciprocate?"
"Anything you like, Benny," he replied.
Fraser deftly swept the smaller man off his feet and carried him into
the bedroom. Lying Ray on the bed, he softly knelt on the soft mattress and
began slowly unbuttoning his partner's shirt, placing a gentle kiss on each
new furry spot as it appeared before sliding his tongue down to the next.
Reaching his waist, the Mountie slid one hand down to his cop's growing bulge
and rubbed it slowly.
"Shit Benny, its just Armani!" Vecchio fairly yelled. "I'll get over
it!"
"If you say so, Ray," Fraser said, and taking the pants by their
waistband he yanked them viciously off his partner's narrow waist. With the
sound of rending fabric Ray's erection sprung free and clear. The ruined
pants now bunched firmly at Vecchio's ankles, Fraser ran his tongue up and
down his partner's beautiful shaft. The salty taste of sweat mixed in with a
dash of precum was nearly enough to send the Mountie over the edge himself.
Ray moaned as his body stiffened, and reached down to take his partner's
hand. Fraser had taken him fully in the mouth, and sucked hard, playing his
tongue across each of the cop's sensitive balls. His back arched and finally
Vecchio could not take it any longer. They exploded together, riding a sea of
euphoria both felt so well. The pair lay panting side by side for a few
minutes, taking delight in the feeling. Finally, Ray spoke.
"My turn," he murmured, and climbed out of bed for a moment, shaking out of
his pant legs. On the nearby windowsill lay a half-spent bottle of lube and
the candle. With the dimness of the room Vecchio considered for a moment
lighting the candles and bringing them to the bed. Fraser had always enjoyed
the sensation that hot wax brought to their encounters. But it seemed as
though it had been years since Ray had been inside the Mountie, and he needed
that feeling again. The American picked up his lube and crossed back to the
bed.
"Turn over, Benny," he ordered. Fraser complied immediately with a smile.
"Yes, Ray."
"Hush," the cop said, and gazed longingly at his partner's taut bottom. "Damn
mounties, you even manage to have a smart ass."
"We try, Ray," Fraser laughed.
"I said hush!" the cop said again, more forcefully. With his middle finger
Vecchio began to stroke his partner's perineum. The Mountie was at a loss for
words, sighing contentedly as his erection grew to a head. Ray felt himself
stiffen as he paused to squirt lubricant into his hands. Fraser whimpered
softly and wrapped his arms around a pillow.
"I'm coming Benny, don't worry." Vecchio carefully inserted a finger into his
lover, smiling as he watched the Mountie respond with a happy shudder. The
second and third finger came easily, almost as if his entire body was
welcoming Ray. Almost there. Using his other hand Vecchio coated his shaft in
lube and withdrew the fingers to guide it home.
Fraser gasped loudly as Ray entered him, establishing a fast-paced rhythm.
They fairly bounced atop the bed, the Mountie clutching valiantly at the
pillow he had buried his head in to keep from whooping with pleasure. In
unison the two came, like the Brussels sprouts of earlier that evening.
Fraser could feel Vecchio's essence comfortably inside him even as the cop
withdrew.
The Mountie turned over and with both arms pulled Ray up beside him to hold
the man in his arms. In the warmth of their bodies both were content.
"Ray," Fraser said.
"Yes, Benny?"
"Welcome home."
"Thanks, Benny."

El fin.