Ray paused in front of the double doors and took a deep, steadying breath. Six months since he'd last been here, and the mingled scents of the Bullpen were like incense to his nostrils. He smiled happily, all he had to do today was to report to Lt Welsh and then he'd be free to do whatever he liked. Go back to his family first, he thought, then a trip over to the Consulate to catch up with Benny... maybe they could have dinner somewhere, or he could invite him home... yeah, that would be a good idea. A big Vecchio dinner and his best friend sitting at the table beside him, what could be better?
He pushed the doors open and strolled in casually, waiting for the inevitable reaction from the inhabitants. Halfway to the desk that had been his, he stopped dead. There were two men standing there, one of them he'd never seen before, though he had a pretty good idea who it was. Det. Kowalski, the cop who'd spent the last six months pretending to be him, to help maintain his cover. The other was Benton Fraser, that broad, red serge covered back was unmistakable.
All around him, people were realising just who had come through the doors. In a moment more, he was surrounded by friends and colleagues intent on shaking his hand and patting him on the back. Normally he would have revelled in this attention, but now all he was really aware of was that flash of red on the other side of the room. Between the heads and shoulders of his well-wishers, he watched as that figure straightened and turned, seemingly in slow motion.
Like in some old movie, their eyes met across the room, and Ben's face turned as white as his lanyard. He made no move to join Ray, in fact he looked as though he were incapable of moving. Ray pushed past the people surrounding him, oblivious of their stares, and made his way to where Ben was standing.
He ignored the other man completely, reaching out to grab Ben by the upper arm and drag him stumblingly back across the room and out the double doors in a silence that was deep as death. Out in the hallway he hesitated for a moment, but there was only one place they'd ever had where they could be private in the Precinct and instinct directed him there now.
In the dim light of the closet, the two men stood scant inches apart, their breathing ragged. Ray tried in vain to make out the expression on his friend's face, but it was impossible. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling himself, but he was shaking like a leaf. Without warning, without even making a conscious decision, he lunged forward and seized Ben's mouth with his own. He didn't know whether to be shocked or relieved when the other man shuddered once in his arms and then returned the kiss with the same desperate intensity that had gripped Ray.
Long moments later, they were still locked together, their hunger in no way assuaged. Ray forced a little space between their straining bodies and began to attack the Sam Browne belt. In spite of his shaking hands, he managed to free it relatively quickly and turned his attention to the brass buttons which gleamed dully in the darkness. Then he was aware of another pair of hands, shaking as badly as his own, but trying to help.
The moment the last button was undone he pulled the tunic open, his hands sliding underneath over soft fabric. He almost snarled in his frustration and wrenched the undershirt up as far as he could. The pale skin beneath seemed to glow and Ray hesitated for a heartbeat before reaching almost hesitantly to touch the warm skin.
One of them moaned softly, Ray was never sure which of them had made the sound, and then Ben's hands were moving swiftly to peel back Ray's shirt.
They were locked together again, mouth to silken mouth, chest to heaving chest, hands to trembling skin...
This had all gotten incredibly out of hand, but Ray couldn't give a damn. All he knew was that he wanted more, much more. His hands slid back between their bodies and dropped to Ben's waist. He ignored the sharp intake of breath that was the only thing close to a protest that Ben made. With a desperate efficiency, he dealt with the buttons and shoved the cloth wide open.
Ben stumbled backwards, his arms, still tight around Ray, keeping them both together. Ray leaned into the embrace, crushing Ben back against the wall of the closet, his hands stroking, stroking, stroking, until he knew with a sudden, shocking clarity just what it was he wanted from Ben.
Speech was simply impossible. Ray fumbled again at the waistband of the jodhpurs, releasing the suspenders, then reached around behind Ben to unfasten the buttons at the back. His hands guided the trembling Mountie until Ben was facing the wall, then slid down from his waist shoving the cloth down well past Ben's hips. His own trousers were more easily dealt with and it was with a sense of relief that he leaned into the solid body before him.
It was heaven to just be there, his chest scratched by the red serge tunic. To feel the contrasting softness of warm skin against his bare belly, the firm muscle against his aching cock. He reached around to stroke Ben's chest and belly, before allowing his straying hands to touch the cock, barely glimpsed in the darkness, that filled his awareness almost to the exclusion of everything else. It leapt, trembling in his hand like a wild thing and Ray buried a moan in the nape of Ben's neck, his hips moving automatically in an age-old rhythm.
There was no mistaking the instinct that was driving Ray now, they both knew what was going to happen. Ben pushed back against him, silently acquiescing. If Ray had stopped to think about this, he would have been terrified, but there was no room for rational thought. He drew back a little and reached down between their bodies to guide himself home.
Frightening, how easily Ben's body accepted his intrusion, and how right it felt to be inside him... Ray froze for a moment, almost overwhelmed by the sensations assailing him, then began a slow deep stroking. His hands moved over Ben's chest, teasing hardened nipples and moving down over the slight curve of his belly to the proudly jutting erection. He buried his face against the short hair at the back of Ben's head, not daring to make a sound, and Ben was equally silent. Only their breathing could be heard, harsh in the darkness.
Soon tremors started in Ben's body and Ray fumbled, one-handed, for his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief and passing it to Ben. He could feel the tickle of the cloth against his other hand for a moment and then Ben was shuddering violently against him, and there was no more time to think.
It was only the tightness of Ben's body still holding him, and the fact that he had that solid back to lean against that made it possible for Ray to stay upright. He dragged in deep, unsteady breaths and, with some sense returning at last, reached for the handkerchief he'd loaned to Ben. Ben's body surrendered his cock unwillingly, and he cleaned them both up with the damp cloth, wrinkling his nose at the pungent scent. If he'd dared, he would have discarded it, but he stowed it carefully in his pocket and made a mental note to get rid of it at the first opportunity.
Ben was still leaning against the wall, his breathing very unsteady. With a sudden rush of tenderness, Ray reached for him, gently turning him and wrapping his arms around the shaking body. Instinctively, the pale face turned to his and they kissed, all urgency gone now. Soon, though, Ray pulled back and began to rearrange his clothing. When he'd finished, Ben still hadn't moved. He kissed Ben again and began to pull his clothing up, hesitating long enough to run caressing fingers down the length of the pale cock, still swollen and heavy with arousal. Without intending to, he found himself on his knees, his lips and tongue replacing his fingers.
They couldn't stay there. Ray knew that, but it was with the utmost reluctance that he got to his feet again. He pressed up against Ben's body and collected another kiss, then resumed the interrupted task of dressing his lover. He gathered the now rapidly softening cock into his hand and tucked it gently inside Ben's shorts.
"Left or right?" It was no more than a whisper, and Ben's response was even softer.
"Left."
It was the first time they'd actually spoken to each other in six months. Ray gave the genitals a possessive little pat, smiling at Ben, and then turned his attention to buttoning the tunic. They checked each other as best they could in the darkness.
"You ready, Benny?"
Ben nodded rather uncertainly and Ray opened the closet door.
There was nobody in the hallway at the moment, for which Ray was profoundly grateful. He didn't dare look at Ben as they walked back to the Bullpen. It was even more nerve-wracking the second time, Ray found. Especially when, by the time they were halfway across the room, everybody seemed to be staring at them both. With a sense of foreboding, Ray forced himself to look at Ben.
His hair was unquestionably rumpled. The normally pale face was flushed, the blue eyes wide and dreamy. His lips were swollen.
Ohmigod... his lanyard was crooked!
Ray looked away hurriedly and then glanced down at himself. His pristine silk shirt was seriously wrinkled and his tie was rather askew. He sent an all encompassing glare around the office, grabbed Ben again and pulled him over to his erstwhile desk. Kowalski almost leapt out of the chair and backed away hurriedly, leaving the field free. He pushed Ben down into the visitors chair and sat himself in his old chair.
God, that felt good. He stretched and sighed, suddenly not caring at all what anybody was thinking.
"So, Benny, you doing anything for dinner tonight?"
Ben blinked. "No Ray."
"Well, you are now. I was gonna invite you over to Ma's, but maybe we should go somewhere quieter... like your apartment, maybe?"
A warm smile spread across Ben's face. "That would be lovely, Ray."
"Good." Ray grinned. "I'll pick you up at the Consulate. About five?"
Ben nodded. "I'd better go."
He didn't move. He was staring into Ray's eyes. Ray reached over and touched his hand lightly.
"I'll see you later then."
"Oh! Oh, yes. Later."
Ray watched as Ben walked back across the room, his eyes straying down from the broad shoulders to the sturdy waist and lingering rather longer than was wise on the firm butt peeking from under the red tunic. The sound of someone clearing their throat brought him out of his reverie.
Elaine's face was almost completely blank, but her eyes were dancing. "It's nice to see you two boys back together again."
Ray shrugged casually. "It's nice to be back, Elaine. I've missed this old dump. And you, of course."
He smiled at her with his best innocent look.
"We've missed you too, Ray." She stifled a giggle. "I'll have to make sure the cleaners sweep out that closet, now that it's going to be used again."
The smile froze on his face. Elaine swept around triumphantly and went over to Huey's desk to pick up some files. He glanced at his trousers and swore under his breath. Then he reached down and surreptitiously brushed the dust off his knees.