Absence of Reason

Turnbull actually had the nerve to apologize for the mouth-watering stir-fry he served, much to Ray's disbelief and annoyance. He, of course, had to assure the Mountie delicious and was rewarded with one of Turnbull's brilliant smiles.

Throughout dinner Ray vented his emotions about anything that had annoyed him during the course of his day, from a rookie that messed up a case to bad coffee. Turnbull was sympathetic to the tiniest complaint and never once mentioned how his day had gone. Nor did Ray ask. Turnbull seemed happy that Ray was there at all, and Ray decided that was good enough.

He turned down Turnbull's offer of a tour. "What is this? The White House?"

Turnbull apologized for suggesting it and Ray immediately regretted his sarcastic words. The guilt he felt did nothing to improve his temper. He sat at the table while Turnbull washed the dishes, Turnbull's urging to make himself comfortable. He didn't want to become acquainted with any part of the apartment--except maybe the bedroom.

Ray glanced around the apartment until his eyes came to rest on a painting. More specifically, on the corner of a painting, and when the initials "RJT" caught his eye, he quickly averted his gaze. He didn't want to know whether Turnbull was a talented painter or what sort of subjects the Mountie painted--that would be too intimate.

Instead, he focused on the broad-shouldered figure at the kitchen sink. Before long, the play of muscles beneath the white t-shirt and black jeans pushed all other thoughts from his mind save one.

Did Turnbull have to wash those dishes now?

In the next moment, Ray was on his feet with his arms around Turnbull's waist and pressed along the length of Turnbull's body. "Can't you do that some other time?" he murmured, stretching slightly to bite down on a soft earlobe. He smiled when a shudder ran through the muscular form.

"If you like," Turnbull replied demurely.

"I like," Ray slid his hands under Turnbull's t-shirt and traced the well-defined abs. "I'm ready for that tour now. Let's start with the bedroom." He felt rather than heard Turnbull's sigh, and it didn't feel like a happy one. "Is that a no?" Ren turned in his arms and lowered his head slightly. Ray was more than happy to meet him halfway, thrusting his tongue into the warm mouth as soon as he got the opportunity. Ray lifted the white t-shirt higher for better access to that warm silken skin. "Bedroom," he rasped in Turnbull's ear.

Ren nodded as best he could with Ray's lips and tongue investigating the hollow of his neck and began taking stumbling steps towards the bedroom.

Ray didn't bother glancing around Turnbull's room. He was too busy helping the Mountie remove their clothes. Ray gave him the tiniest push and Turnbull willingly fell back onto the bed. Ray settled on top of him, moving his attentions from Ren's neck to the broad chest while he moved luxuriously against the big body.

Ren's hands kept moving along the length of the detective's wiry body, from the spiky blond hair were the long, gentle fingers massaged his scalp, down his back to his ass. The grip tightened as the Mountie began to thrust against the body above him.

Ray wasn't ready for things to end so quickly, though. He levered himself on his arms and slid down the length of Turnbull's body, smiling when he felt Ren draw in a long breath. The sigh was abruptly cut off with a gasp when his cockhead was covered with a warm, wet mouth.

The long-fingered hands clenched and unclenched in the sheets as Turnbull writhed with pleasure. Ray's touch became lighter and lighter until Ren was ready to scream with frustration. He tried to thrust upwards, mindlessly searching for more contact, but Ray's hands on his hips held him firm.

Then the touch stopped altogether and Ray was leaning over him with a devilish smile on his face. "What do you want?" he whispered, one hand reaching down to cup Ren's balls. "You." The blue eyes were wild. "You, Ray."

Ray hesitated a moment at the fierce longing in Ren's voice. "How do you want me?" He stroked the skin beneath Ren's balls.

Ren stared at him in desperate confusion. Then he closed his eyes and moaned as Ray's fingers moved between his butt cheeks.

"Like this?"

Ren pushed against the slick finger, making its entry easier.

"That's a definite yes." With a wicked grin, Ray pushed another finger and leaned down to kiss Ren, swallowing another moan. He was more than ready now and shifted over top of the larger man, gently pushing Ren's legs up.

Ren drew his knees to his chest, opening himself fully to the detective. Ray's precum provided all the lubrication needed for him to enter the tight passage. Ren shuddered, then wrapped his long legs around the slim hips, holding Ray deep inside him. Ray leaned forward, trapping Ren's straining cock between them as his began to move slowly inside him. He levered himself up on his arms so he could watch Ray's rapt expression.

"Ray...Ray...Ray..." The name was like a mantra as Ren thrust upwards against Ray's belly, keeping perfect time with the smaller man's movements. Then, as if sensing Ray's intense gaze, the blue eyes opened and locked with green.

Mesmerised, Ray found it impossible to look away, even though there were emotions in those silvery-blue depths he didn't want to see. He didn't want to know that Ren's feeling for him went far, far beyond a crush, and those eyes made it painfully obvious. Closing his eyes, Ray began moving faster and pumping harder.

Rather that being discomfited, Ren met him thrust for thrust, his head thrown back in complete abandon, his fingers digging into Ray's back hard enough to leave bruises. They were bruises that Ray wouldn't notice until the next day--all he was aware of was pounding the willing body beneath him to completion.

A hoarse cry signalled the end, and when he felt the warmth of Ren's release against his skin, Ray plunged recklessly towards his own.

Ray wasn't sure how long he lay sprawled on top of the Mountie. He just knew he felt too good to bother with anything so trivial as moving. The soothing fingers running through his hair had him practically purring and when he rubbed his cheek appreciatively against the broad chest it rested on, a soft sigh told him Ren was equally content.

Sweaty and sated, Ray dozed briefly, thinking how nice it would be to fall asleep in such a comfortable place. No doubt in the morning he would wake up to more great sex and--if dinner was any indication--one helluva breakfast.

Ren shifted slightly and murmured something indistinguishable. When the muscular arms wrapped around him, Ren realized this was too much...too good. So good that he'd nearly forgotten he had no intention of getting emotionally involved with a klutzy junior Mountie.

Abruptly, he pushed himself up and off the bed, carefully avoiding the other man's startled expression.

"Ray?"

Ray ignored him as he searched for his shorts.

"Ray, what's wrong? What are you doing?"

"I'm getting dressed."

"Yes, I see, but...why? Are you leaving already?"

"Yes," Ray snapped.

There were several moments of silence, then-- "Ray, you seemed...well, I was hoping..."

"Look, if I don't leave now, I'll wind up staying until tomorrow morning."

"I'd like that, Ray."

Ray gritted his teeth against the wistful entreaty and pulled on his jeans. "Yeah, well, I can't." As he was pulling on his shirt, he heard Ren leave the bed. Don't come here, he willed. Then he opened his eyes, unable to help staring at a body that would be the envy of any decathlete. Jesus, get back under the covers or we'll be at it again.

Ren stopped inches away from Ray, who thought the Mountie might start undressing him again. Ren didn't lay a hand on him, though. Instead he leaned down slightly and kissed him so sweetly that it was all Ray could do not to throw him back down on the bed to demonstrate what kisses like that would get him.

Ren drew back first, giving Ray a smile that was as tempting as his kiss.

"I gotta go," Ray insisted roughly.

"All right," Ren's smile didn't fade.

Ray gave him a gentle shove. "Go back to bed. I know my way out." Then he turned and left the room as fast as he could without actually running.