Sibling Rivalry

 by Brenda Antrim.  A Due South story, rated
NC-17 for explicit m/m sex.  No copyright infringement 
intended.

He didn't know how he'd managed to get rid of her without 
hurting her feelings. The lace had left very little to the 
imagination, and even with the bruises and abrasions covering his torso,
she had managed to attach herself to him pretty thoroughly before he'd
rather ungracefully fallen off the side of the bed and cracked her elbow
on the cement floor ... hard.  He sighed, deeply, and stared around the
darkened room.  It had been a tense hour in the emergency room while
the doctors casted the broken arm, but 
Francesca hadn't stopped staring at him like Deif staring at a meaty
bone the whole time.  He felt an involuntary shudder rip through his
battered frame at the remembrance of those feral, hungry eyes--

"Benny?"  Ray's nasal tone was a distinct relief.  "You okay in there?"

"In here, Ray."  His throat hurt.  It felt tense, dry.  He rolled  carefully
over onto his side, watching his best friend step gingerly through the
unlocked door.

"Ya know, Benny, you really should see about locking this door.  You
got enemies, now, ya know, all the people you been adopting all over
Chicago are not going to stand in the way if some of Frankie's thugs
decide to take another crack at your tough Canadian hide-"

Later he wouldn't have any idea where the urge had come from.  Well,
he might have, but he would never be able to take it out in the 
open and look at it.  It had been building for months.  He'd been celibate
much too long, and while his control was usually iron-strong, the weeks
of distraction by Inspector Thatcher and her ... legs ... and the fact
that Ray was closer to him than anyone he knew ... well, he didn't suppose
that would really justify his actions.  After all, if it was really Meg
Thatcher that he wanted in his arms, why did he roll out of the bed in
one fluid motion, pin Ray against the wall, and stop the incessant flow
of words from his mouth with his own lips? 

Displaced sexual frustration?

Substitution of an attainable object of desire for an unattainable one?

The fact that he'd been wondering for months what the other man's tongue
tasted like and if it was as agile in a kiss as it was 
around words?

The last thought brought another shudder rippling through his 
frame.  Ray was standing stock still, held against the wall by the solid
bulk of his best friend, reeling from shock at the sensation of Fraser's
soft lips pulling at his own, his tongue sliding gently into his mouth
to play along the top of his tongue, the ridge of his teeth, the soft
flesh of his palate -- his jaw relaxed in response to the determined
assault upon his mouth and a moan escaped without his conscious volition.
At the sound, Ben's body stiffened, and he thrust himself back from Ray,
staring with wide cerulean eyes at his friend, leaning gape-jawed against
the wall.  Fraser's eyes snapped shut, an expression of pure pain contorting
his handsome features, and Ray's shock dissolved into concern.

"Benny?  You okay?"  He reached an arm around his friend's waist as the
larger man swayed, then led him in a wavery line toward the bed.  Fraser
kept his eyes down, half afraid to look at Ray.  What had he just done?
A first for him, to lose his control in such a manner.  

"Benny?"  Ray was really worried now.  Fraser's head was thrown back,
his eyes squeezed tightly shut, lips pulled into a tight, bloodless frown.
"Talk to me, man.  What the hell happened?  I mean I know about Francesca,
that was probably self protection, and completely understandable.  But,
uhm, just now? Benny?  Talk to me, buddy."

Ben finally opened his eyes, but he couldn't get a word out to 
save his life.  Ray stared down into the miserable eyes staring up mutely
at him, and read something he had never expected to see there.  Desire.
Deep seated, fiery, aching, arousing.  An unfamiliar 
excitement began to rise in him, echoed in his groin.  Lorraine was one
thing, but this ... this was Benny.

The friends' eyes clashed, dark and light, meshed, explored, 
understood.  Ray gently lowered Ben until the Mountie lay supine against
the hard surface of the mattress, the cold leather of his jacket brushing
lightly against the soft skin of Ben's bare chest, causing goosebumps
to prickle the surface, causing his nipples to pebble into tiny nubs.
Or was it the cold?  Perhaps it was the
heat.  In a rare moment of silence between the two, Ben raised a tentative
hand to push gently at the lapel of Ray's jacket.  A mute question, a
silent request in those clear blue eyes.  Ray swallowed the dry lump
that seemed to have risen unbidden in his throat, and licked his lips
with a quick, nervous flick of his tongue.  Ben's eyes followed the movement,
and his lips parted.  It was all the invitation Ray needed.

Shrugging out of his jacket, not allowing himself to think about his
actions, he followed his instincts and ran his hands tenderly along his
friend's chest, trying to avoid the deeper bruises Zuko's thugs had left
on the tender flesh and hard muscle.  A soft moan broke from Ben's arched
throat as Ray ran his fingertips lightly over the tense column, sliding
them along the sharp angle of his jaw to cup his face.  
Concentrating on the slightly parted mouth, Ray angled his head a fraction
and settled his own lips against Ben's, working his jaw the tiniest bit
to ensure a perfect fit.  To his shuddering delight, Ben responded to
his kiss by slipping his tongue into Ray's mouth, a darting foray touching
lightly on the places he had begun to explore when he had pinned him
at the door.  The feather light caresses broke what little remained of
Ray's control, and he pulled his hands away from Ben's face.  Keeping
his mouth locked on his friend's, he slipped the buttons on his shirt
with near frantic haste, unsure whether the speed was due to need alone
or need coupled with the desire to act without thinking.  Not that it
mattered.  Either way, the need
was overriding everything else.

Ben shivered at the movements of his best friend's body atop his own.
Somehow, his hands had worked the belt loose from Ray's pants, and he
had managed to scoot them almost to his knees.  The sensation of Ray's
hard length thrusting against his own through the layers of Ray's silk
boxers and his own cotton thermals tore a series of strangled whimpers
from him.  A small corner of his mind commented that he sounded much
like Deifenbaker when he wanted to run and was constrained to the leash,
but that corner was soon swamped by sensation.  

The need to breathe finally broke their kiss, allowing Ray's hands to
join Ben's in tearing the rest of his clothing off and tossing them alongside
the bed.  Once they were out of the way, Ray stopped for a moment, staring
at the evidence of Fraser's desire, straining at the confines of the
faded red cotton.  A truly wicked smile lit his face, and a questioning
half smile tilted the corner of the Mountie's mouth. 

"What, Ray?" he managed to whisper.  Ray answered his question with his
actions.  Ben's head fell back as his friend hooked his thumbs in the
waistband of his pants and freed his straining cock ... with his mouth.
He couldn't hold back the gasping moan at the slick feeling of mouth
and tongue and teeth at his most sensitive spots.  Clenching his fists
in the bedroll beneath him, he found himself thrusting up almost mindlessly
into Ray's mouth.  Ray managed to peel the cotton pants the rest of the
way down, arching his back and keeping Ben's hips relatively pinned with
the other arm.  One long muscular leg was freed, the pants hanging off
the other foot, when he gave up the fight and concentrated on the groin
beneath his hands.  Both of Fraser's hands were running over his scalp,
down onto the back of his neck, an urgent rhythm that matched his increasing
thrusts.  At this point, Ben was completely lost in sensation, and Ray
knew from his actions that he was close to climaxing.  With one final
strong sucking movement, he pulled his head back and milked Ben's cock
with his fist, watched in fascination as a flush crossed the Mountie's
usually pale face, as passion contorted his normally calm countenance.
His mouth fell open as he came, harsh, short pants pulling his lips into
a feral smile, eyes tightly shut, sweat gleaming across his classical
features.  

Ray continued his caresses, drawing the last of the orgasm out, 
tearing shudders from his best friend.  When Ben finally fell back, Ray
moved up along his body, lowering his mouth to his friend's, sharing
the taste with the source.  Fraser moaned into his mouth, his tongue
pushing against Ray's, sucking and nibbling.  Ray lifted himself slightly,
nudging the other man's legs apart gently, staring into the wide dazed
eyes below his own, asking permission with his smile, his hands, his
body.  Ben managed a shaky smile back, and granted that permission with
an acquiescent parting of his thighs. Ray closed his eyes for a moment
when he felt the hard muscles of Ben's legs relaxing and falling to the
sides of his own, then he ground his erect cock hard into Ben's groin,
coating it in the sticky fluid he'd earlier coaxed from his friend. 
Ben thrust back, and he opened his eyes again, a radiant grin wreathing
his features, quickly wiped away by his own moan of need as Fraser shifted
his hips up and offered himself.

Ben took a deep breath as Ray finally got the message he couldn't quite
articulate, and reached beneath him to massage the sensitive skin running
from below his sac to his anus.  The first tentative touch of fingertips
stretching his entrance nearly made him scream, and he drew his knees
up.  Ray froze, wondering if he had misread Fraser's desire.  The bigger
man curled his left leg up and rolled away from Ray, then turned his
head to look at him over the inviting expanse of his back.  

"Benny?"  Ray needed to hear the words.

"Please."  It was all Fraser could get out through an aching chest and
a clenched jaw.  

It was enough.  Ray reached for the aloe gel near the bed that Ben had
used on his abrasions earlier.  In a pinch, anything would do, he thought
with some desperation to himself, then poured a generous amount onto
his fingers.  As he worked the gel into Ben's opening, he stroked the
long muscles of his back and shoulders with his
free hand, running along the tense bundles until they calmed under his
touch, stroking along the tight muscles of his ass, delighting in the
firm flesh and soft skin, trying very hard to avoid the painful places
from the previous night's beating.  Whenever he came across a bruise,
he dropped a light, apologetic kiss on it, as if to heal each hurt. 
The combination of lust and tenderness relaxed Fraser, and Ray was able
to work first one, then two fingers deeply into him, preparing him, raking
lightly against his prostate, causing Ben to whimper and buck against
him.  When the bucking began to take on a rhythm, he carefully placed
the head of his cock against the tight opening and gradually allowed
gravity to push him in.  Fraser froze, and he stopped in response, then
the Mountie began to push backward.  Eventually, with more self control
than he would have ever thought he had, Ray managed to sink completely
into Ben, then lay pressed up tightly against his back.  He buried his
face in the warm, sweet curve of Ben's shoulder, and the other man stayed
still as long as he could before the unaccustomed tension and fullness
broke his control.  He began to rock backward against Ray's weight, ignoring
the sharp stabs from his injured ribs and chest, unable to wait any longer.
Ray responded to the tight grip around him, the incredible heat, and
the nearly unbelievable fact that this was *Fraser*, by losing his control
in turn.  Ben held off as long as he could, but it wasn't very long.
With a wail that he muffled by burying his head in the pillow, he came
again, and the contractions of his climax pulled Ray in after him.  Ray
threw his head back as he came, screaming and not making
any effort to clamp down on the noise.  As he collapsed onto Ben's back,
he lifted one weak hand to turn his friend's face to his own.  Seeking
blindly, he attached his mouth to Ben's for one final drugging kiss,
then slowly drew himself from the depth's of Fraser's body.  The other
man gasped as he felt the pressure removed, then dropped his head back
on the pillow.  

Ray rolled off of Ben, careful once more of his injuries, and tried to
catch his breath.  Looking to the side, he saw Fraser staring at him,
an uncertain light in his eyes.  He smiled at him, reassuring and sharing
the joy of it all at the same time.  Ben smiled back at the happiness
in his friend's face, and his eyes slowly drifted shut.  Ray watched
Ben sleep the sleep of the deeply exhausted, feeling a little guilty
for doing this to him after the day and night the poor man had already
put in, when he heard a whisper from the door.  His head whipped around,
to see his sister Francesca, leaning against the frame with a combination
of lust and shock on her features.

"Well," she whispered huskily, "it's no damned wonder he was willing
to hop off the balcony to get away."  Ray stared at her, unable to think
of a single thing to say, and she grinned.  Turning back to the door,
she tossed quietly back over her shoulder, "Call me if you ever wanna
share." 

Ray grimaced at the closed door, then jolted as a precise voice murmured
in his ear, "For my sake, Ray ... please don't."  He turned to face his
friend's rueful grin, and laughed quietly.

"I never did share well with others."

**********************the end***************************************