Author's website: http://www.slashcity.org/~rushlight

Disclaimer: No harm, no foul.

Author's Notes: Many thanks to Beth and AuKestrel for the beta-reading.

Story Notes: Once again, this series features a D/s relationship between Fraser and Ray (no pain involved!). If that's not your thing, then you might want to move on. :)

This story is a sequel to: A Matter of Degree

Fraser in Chains 3: Reconciliation
by, Rushlight

Fraser didn't understand why Ray insisted on treating him like he'd break at the slightest provocation. He wasn't fragile, goddamn it. All those lectures over the years about how he should "let go" and "trust his instincts", and what it had all come down to was this.

It had been a foolish idea from the start. Who in his right mind would let his partner chain him up and (as Ray would say) fuck him senseless? Except that he knew perfectly well there were people who did that, and enjoyed it. But that didn't mean it was right for him and Ray.

He must have been mad.

Just the memory of it was enough to make Fraser's face grow warm again, and he ducked his head behind the open file folder in front of him, hoping Inspector Thatcher wouldn't choose that moment to come into his office and demand an update on the paperwork for the upcoming trade delegation. It had been hard enough coming in to work this morning, hoping she wouldn't notice the fading bruises around his wrists.

He glanced down at his right wrist, staring at the dark red line of his sleeve where it rested against the back of his hand. The warmth in his cheeks deepened at the memory of what he and Ray had done Friday night, and he couldn't seem to stop the fingers of his other hand from sliding underneath the fabric to rub at the back of his wrist, feeling the lingering heat of the ligature marks there.

Lunacy.

There was no heat, aside from that being given off by his own skin. He knew that, but it didn't stop him from imagining that there was, as if the handcuffs Ray had bound him with had left a brand on his skin, marking him with the memory of Ray's presence.

Fraser closed his eyes and breathed out heavily.

There was no denying the fact that being cuffed by Ray had been the most intensely erotic experience of his life. And he wasn't even sure why, except that he seemed to have some heretofore unexplored need buried deep inside of him to ... what? To give up control? That didn't make any sense at all, because he lived for control, lived for that sense of taking charge of the world around him.

Maybe, what he had was some heretofore unexplored need to give up control to Ray.

Just the thought of it made a frisson of want move through him, and he shifted uneasily in his chair.

He wished he knew where he stood with Ray, but neither one of them had been willing to discuss these new changes in their relationship over the weekend. To be perfectly honest, he supposed Ray had wanted to discuss it, but had refrained out of respect for him. Because he had most certainly not wanted to discuss it.

Not that there was anything to discuss. If Ray didn't want to pursue this avenue of their relationship any longer, then there was nothing to pursue. And Fraser was fine with that.

He was just fine with that.

A glance at the clock showed him that it was almost five o'clock, and he closed the folder in front of him with some measure of relief. He couldn't even remember what he'd been reading. What he was supposed to have been reading.

It was irritating, that Ray could be so distracting when he wasn't even here.

Diefenbaker was lying comfortably in the patch of slanting sunlight that fell in through the room's small window, and he looked up expectantly when Fraser reached for his hat. It had been a fairly uneventful day for a change, and Fraser knew the wolf was enjoying the rare downtime. He'd begin to chafe at the lack of activity soon enough, but for now it was a pleasant change from last week's routine.

Ray would be here soon to bring them home, and Fraser wanted to be well outside the Consulate when he arrived. He didn't seem able to control his reactions whenever he was around Ray lately, and the last thing he needed was for the Inspector to start asking awkward questions. Or Turnbull. God.

He put the files away in their correct places, pushed in his chair, and left the room, locking the office door behind him. Dief followed at his heels, yawning, although his ears pricked up when he heard Turnbull humming to himself in the main foyer.

Fraser tucked his hat under his arm and squared his shoulders, determined to get out of the building as quickly as possible, before his preoccupation over the state of his relationship with Ray began to show. Personal problems did not belong in the workplace. He knew that, even if he didn't seem able to follow his own internal advice.

"You're leaving early today, sir?" Turnbull sounded surprised when he saw Fraser walk into the room. He was sitting at the front reception desk, polishing a vase with a grubby cloth.

Fraser glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 4:59.

"Uh, yes," he said, chastising himself inwardly. Usually he wouldn't think of leaving until the clock had struck five exactly; now Turnbull had to know there was something bothering him. He cleared his throat lightly. "Just for today."

Turnbull leaned forward across the desk and winked conspiratorially. "Going out tonight, eh?"

Fraser felt his cheeks grow warm. "Uh ... not exactly." He winced inwardly. "I mean, no. No, not at all."

He wasn't sure he appreciated the smirk Turnbull gave him. "I understand entirely, sir."

Oh god, he hoped not. Scraping together the last of his dignity, Fraser tightened his grip on his hat and turned toward the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, Turnbull."

"Bright and early," Turnbull agreed. He turned back to his vase, humming lightly under his breath.

Fraser stepped outside with a sense of relief so profound it was nearly crippling. He really had to find a way to get these feelings of his under control. He was just grateful that the Inspector had been occupied elsewhere when he left, or else he really might have had some explaining to do.

Dief looked up at him with an expression of vague exasperation as they descended the front stairs. Fraser ignored him, fitting his hat carefully onto his head.

He didn't understand what was wrong with him. Maybe it was the heat. It really was ungodly hot out today, and it was doing strange things to his mind. He'd never been able to understand why he was expected to wear his full uniform in the humidity of Chicago's summers. It wasn't like this was the Yukon, for god's sake.

Even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew it wasn't really his uniform he was irritated with.

He walked down the street a ways while he waited, wanting to avoid any curious gazes from inside the Consulate windows. Before he realized what he was doing, he slid his fingers under his sleeve again, brushing lightly across the bruises there. As soon as he realized what he was doing, he forced his hands back down to his sides.

This was getting ridiculous.

It was a relief when he saw the sleek black shape of the GTO pull up to the curb in front of him, and the knot of tension inside him eased slightly when he saw Ray's familiar form behind the wheel.

"Hey." The smile Ray favored him with was infectious, and Fraser found himself smiling back as he opened the door to let Dief jump in ahead of him. "You're out early today."

Once again, Fraser felt his cheeks heat, and he ducked his head as he climbed into the car. "It was a slow day," he said, wincing at the defensive note that crept into his voice.

"Uh-huh." The sound Ray made was noncommittal. He glanced at Fraser thoughtfully out of the corner of his eye as he pulled away from the curb.

Fraser carefully avoided Ray's gaze as he drove, listening to the vaguely soothing tune that filtered out of the car's speakers. Ray's thumbs tapped out an absent rhythm on the top of the steering wheel, and Fraser found himself envying the other man's seemingly limitless supply of energy. After a day of doing not much other than sitting around and brooding, Fraser felt wiped out.

Ray's silence was disturbing. Usually, Fraser took comfort in his oftentimes inane chatter at the end of the day. Perhaps Ray's day had been as unremarkable as his own, although he thought it was more likely that Ray's refusal to engage him in conversation meant simply that Ray was thinking. And he had enough respect for Ray's thought processes to feel wary of that realization. Oftentimes Ray seemed able to figure out what Fraser was thinking and feeling before he himself was fully aware of it.

Still, the strange silence reigned as they arrived home and made their way upstairs to their apartment. Ray hadn't even asked him if he wanted to go out to eat, which he usually did when they both got off from work at a reasonable hour. Fraser's nervousness increased.

The gaze Ray leveled at him as he opened the door for them was amused. He shook his head, looking as exasperated with him as Dief had earlier. "You think too much, Frase," he said accusingly, and Fraser had to admit it was true. It had always been his downfall.

"Maybe I do," he agreed reluctantly. His heart rate was beginning to increase, and he wasn't sure why.

Ray locked the door firmly behind them and then immediately slid his arms around Fraser's waist in a welcoming hug. Fraser leaned against him with a feeling of intense relief, nuzzling his face forward against the side of Ray's neck. Ray smelled good, like clean sweat and leather, and it took him a moment to figure that one out until he realized he was rubbing his cheek against the shoulder strap of Ray's leather holster.

"I love you," he said, not sure why he felt the need to say so at this very moment. Ray's arms tightened around his waist briefly before releasing him.

"I think we need to talk," Ray said.

Ah, so that was what Ray had been thinking about in the car. Fraser drew in a deep breath and then let it out slowly.

"Yes," he agreed, feeling the skin between his brows tighten.

Ray nudged his arm, looking amused. "It's not the Spanish Inquisition. Why don't you go and get changed while I start dinner."

A reprieve, then. Fraser fled the room gratefully, well aware of the fact that he was fleeing. He shed his uniform and took a quick shower before changing into clothes more suited to the heat of Chicago's summer. He was half-tempted to choose a shirt with long sleeves to hide the bruises on his wrists, but he quickly discarded the idea. He might feel prompted to hide the marks of their lovemaking from his coworkers at the Consulate, but he couldn't bring himself to hide from Ray.

Never from Ray.

He steeled himself as he went back down the hall toward the kitchen. Ray was busy setting the table, and there were a couple of large pans cooking on the stove. A quick glance inside the pans told Fraser they were having spaghetti for dinner tonight, and he breathed in the rich scents hungrily as he stirred the sauce with a nearby wooden spoon.

"Mmm, nice." Ray came up behind him and slipped his hands forward around Fraser's waist. Fraser leaned back against him, smiling as Ray nuzzled into his still-damp hair. Ray did so love to touch. "I got five minutes to shower, do you think?"

"Take six," he said graciously, ducking his head with a grin when Ray smacked him on the arm.

"Thanks." Ray's tone was wry. He kissed Fraser briefly on the side of the neck before turning and disappearing down the hall.

Fraser busied himself with fixing Dief's supper, doing his best to ignore the beseeching looks the wolf gave him as he set the bowlful of diet brand dog food on the floor. It was Dief's own fault, after all, for sneaking all those snacks at Ray's work. He wasn't inclined to feel sympathetic when Dief repeatedly ignored his admonitions to watch what he ate.

That done, Fraser washed his hands off and tested the spaghetti noodles. He was just draining the water out of the pan when he heard Ray move into the bedroom down the hall to get dressed.

He supposed it was too much to hope that Ray would be willing to let him get through dinner before beginning the aforementioned conversation, and he was right. They were just sitting down at the table to eat when Ray asked, "So, do you have some kind of a moral problem with what we've been doing?"

Fraser stared at him blankly. "What do you mean?"

Ray made a vague circular gesture in the air with one hand. "You know. The whole tie-me-up-and-fuck-me thing."

Fraser felt his face go hot at that, and his hand tightened around his fork. "No," he said stiffly. "Of course not."

Ray nodded thoughtfully. "But it's hard for you, isn't it? It goes against the grain."

Yes. Yes, that was it exactly. Fraser dropped his gaze, feeling startled. Trust Ray to figure out the problem before he was even aware of what it was.

Thankfully, Ray seemed willing to drop the subject while they finished the rest of their meal. When he did speak, it was only to make casual comments about his day at work, and all too soon, they were cleaned up and sitting together on the couch in the living room.

Fraser stared hard at the carpet between his feet, wishing Ray would just let the matter rest. He was well aware of the fact that they'd made a mistake, and it seemed superfluous to continue discussing it. It ... went against the grain, as Ray had said. And yet for Ray, he would make the effort.

"You don't want to do it anymore, do you?" Ray's voice was solemn. Fraser glanced up at him, surprised by the concern he saw in the other man's eyes.

"Do what?" he said, but he knew exactly what Ray meant. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "You mean the, ah..."

"The tie-me-up-and-fuck-me thing. Yeah."

Fraser shook his head. "I thought you said you didn't want to do that anymore."

And now the exasperation was back, times ten. "I said I didn't want to use handcuffs anymore." Ray rubbed a hand over his arm, as if he recognized how very badly Fraser needed to be touched right now. "Is that what you've been moping around about all weekend?"

"I haven't been moping around, Ray." Fraser tried to sound affronted, but he suspected he only managed to be what Ray called 'snippity'. He dropped his gaze, immediately feeling contrite.

"Don't think so much." Ray's voice was almost harsh. "You always try to think everything to death, Fraser."

Yes, Ray was always trying to tell him that. Feel, don't think. Logic versus instinct. Control versus ... wherever it was they were going with their relationship now. Fraser let his breath out heavily, feeling a stirring between his legs. He shifted uneasily.

Ray sighed. "It's your call, Frase. What do you want to do? You want to call it quits, we'll call it quits. It's up to you."

The thought filled Fraser with a feeling akin to panic, and he looked up at Ray sharply. What did he want? What did he want? It occurred to him suddenly that Ray was sitting there offering him ... everything. Everything and anything he could imagine.

"I don't know what I want," he said softly, holding Ray's gaze.

"Don't think," Ray repeated, reaching for his hand. Ray's thumb traced over the fading bruise on his wrist, and Fraser shivered lightly at the subtle reminder of the pleasures they'd shared together.

"You won't use the handcuffs anymore," he said, reminding Ray of the obvious.

One corner of Ray's mouth twitched up in a small grin. "We don't really need handcuffs, do we?" Somehow, that wasn't really a question. His voice lowered to a near-whisper. "Do we, Fraser?"

No, they didn't. Because it wasn't the handcuffs that gave him such an erotic charge -- it was Ray. Fraser closed his eyes and shivered again, feeling the heat of Ray's touch move through him, warming him from the inside out. What did he want? He didn't have the faintest idea, but maybe that wouldn't be an issue, since Ray seemed to know what he was thinking before he did half the time.

Maybe he didn't know where he wanted to go, but he knew he trusted Ray to take him there.

It was not a surprise when Ray leaned in to kiss him. Fraser kept his eyes closed, opening to the kiss readily, and he moaned softly around the hot slide of the tongue that moved in against his own. Ray was a talented kisser, and the hands that moved up over Fraser's arms seemed to be sparking pure fire against the surface of his skin, coiling a low, pulsing thrum of want tight in the depths of his belly.

Ray's hands reached Fraser's shoulders and massaged lightly through the fabric of his T-shirt, easing his tension away. He nuzzled down underneath Fraser's chin to nip playfully at the edge of his jaw, and Fraser relaxed even more, feeling the nervousness drain out of him as if it had been siphoned away.

"On your knees, Fraser," Ray whispered.

Fraser shuddered, feeling a jolt of sheer lust move through him. Yes, this was what he wanted. Without thinking, he obeyed the subtle urging of Ray's hands on his shoulders and slid down to his knees on the floor.

"That's it." Ray's voice was encouraging. Fraser shivered again, feeling achingly open at that moment, achingly vulnerable. He bowed his head slightly, feeling Ray's hands slide up the sides of his neck to tangle in his hair, fingers massaging heavily at his scalp. It felt good, and he allowed himself to relax into it, humming slightly under his breath.

"God, you look sexy," Ray murmured, and Fraser smiled. He knew Ray found him attractive, and the thought was comforting, for Ray's sake. Fraser was glad that he could be that for Ray; he wanted to be everything for Ray. Everything that Ray could possibly want or imagine.

"Ray, please," he whispered, sliding a hand up Ray's jeans-clad thigh. Strange how he found it so easy to plead when Ray took command of him this way. Ray's knees spread reflexively, and Fraser moved forward between them, letting his breath out in a hard sigh. He knew what he wanted now, and he hoped desperately that Ray would be willing to give it to him. The hard line of Ray's arousal was outlined clearly through the fabric of his jeans, and Fraser moistened his lips hungrily, wanting to taste it.

Oh, how he wanted. He wanted, but he would not take. Ray had set the tone for this encounter, and he would wait to follow Ray's lead.

Ray's hand stroked up over the side of his neck, cupping under his chin. He tipped Fraser's face up to look at him, and Fraser met his gaze hesitantly, feeling unsure.

"What do you want, Frase?" Ray asked again. Fraser pressed his lips together hard, fighting back a shiver. Ray was going to make him ask for it. It seemed odd that even that would have its own kind of erotic thrill. Perhaps it was the realization that he could have anything he wanted -- anything at all -- if he could only put it into words.

"I want to..." He trailed off, feeling his face heat. Ray's fingers tightened around the underside of his jaw, refusing to let him turn away. The expression on Ray's face was unyielding, although his eyes were kind. "I want to ... to taste you, Ray."

There. The words were out. He relaxed with a small sigh, feeling a small measure of triumph, and Ray rewarded him with the touch of his hands, gifting him with the smooth slide of fingers into his hair, drawing yet another reluctant shiver out of him.

"Yeah," Ray said, and there was an underlying huskiness to his voice that made Fraser's nerves sing. "Yeah, you do that, Fraser."

It was permission and command both. Ray's fingers tightened in Fraser's hair as he slid his hips forward to the edge of the couch, splaying his thighs in open invitation. Fraser's hands were already moving at the waist of Ray's jeans, freeing his erection with fingers that were clumsy with anticipation.

Ray was hard, beautifully hard and waiting for him, and Fraser wet his lips eagerly, glancing up into Ray's face. Ray's head was resting against the back of the couch now, and his eyes were half-lidded with an air of lazy expectation. His hands traced small circles on the backs of Fraser's shoulders.

That look did things to Fraser. He lowered his head with a small sigh and pressed his tongue against the tip of Ray's erection, savoring the low sound Ray made in response. Ray tasted slightly bitter, slightly salty, and slightly something Fraser couldn't put a name to. He closed his eyes with a low hum of pleasure and moved in to taste some more, licking delicately at the sensitive head, drinking up the moisture that had gathered there.

"Fraser...." Ray's tone was warning, and his fingers moved up to tighten in the hair at the back of Fraser's head. Yes, that was exactly what he wanted, and Fraser closed his eyes tightly, feeling as if something inside of him had just broken free and sprouted wings to fly.

He engulfed Ray's erection entirely in his mouth, taking in as much of it as he could. Ray's hips lifted off the couch to meet him, and Fraser let him, feeling the hard thickness fill his mouth, filling him, making him feel somehow complete. One of Ray's hands moved down his arm to loop slender fingers around his wrist, holding him, careful not to upset his bruises. The possessiveness of the gesture made Fraser feel wild inside, and he threw himself utterly into the task before him, his mind consumed with nothing but the glorious and coveted goal of making Ray come.

Ray's fingers tightened around him, holding tight to his wrist and his hair, holding him right where he wanted him to be. The feel of it was electrical, exhilarating, and Fraser hummed low in his throat to show his appreciation. Ray tasted so good, felt so good, and his own unsatisfied arousal was like a distant ache in the back of his mind, encouraging him to give Ray more of what they both wanted.

Ray's entire body tensed, giving Fraser ample warning before his hips suddenly snapped up with a harsh shout, impaling Fraser on the rigid, pulsing length of his cock as he came. Fraser swallowed eagerly, feeling absurdly grateful, and he blinked back hot tears as he soothed Ray down from the edge, stroking lightly at the inside of his thigh with one hand.

After a few moments, he pulled away from Ray's softening cock and rested his cheek against Ray's stomach, breathing in the scent of him. Ray lay still underneath him, breathing heavily, one hand stroking absently at his hair.

Fraser waited patiently, feeling perfectly content to kneel there in between Ray's thighs. There was something so very right about this moment that he never wanted it to end. Finally, Ray's hand moved down to cup the back of his neck, and Fraser looked up at him, wondering what Ray would see in his eyes. Ray's eyes were soft and sated, and there was a lingering smile on his lips that sent a little frisson of pleasure skittering down Fraser's spine.

"Thanks," Ray said, and his smile took on a wry edge. He dropped his gaze to Fraser's mouth and trailed his fingers across his lips in a gentle caress.

Fraser smiled and nuzzled forward into Ray's hand, kissing his fingers lightly. "My pleasure," he replied, meaning the words with every fiber of his being.

Ray chuckled softly. "Up," he said, and while the note of command was gone from his voice, Fraser obeyed him immediately, lifting his head and sitting back onto his heels. Ray's eyes held his for a long moment before he leaned forward to kiss him.

"You're incredible," Ray whispered, running his fingers through the back of Fraser's hair. Fraser loved that Ray felt so free to touch him, and he nuzzled up against Ray's face, wanting more. The ache between his legs was beginning to grow more urgent -- watching Ray come had been a wonderful thrill, but it had left him wanting in more ways than one.

Ray seemed to sense his discomfort, because he slid a hand down to Fraser's groin and cupped him hard through his jeans. Fraser grunted softly and rocked forward into the touch, burying his face against the side of Ray's neck.

Ray's lips pressed a fleeting kiss behind his jaw. "Something I can do for you, Frase?" he whispered, tonguing lightly at his ear.

Fraser shuddered, feeling a familiar heat crawl through him. Amazing, that Ray could do this to him, every time.

"Yes," he answered, breathing out a soft sigh.

Ray's teeth nipped gently at the lobe of his ear, startling him with the bright sting of almost-pain. Immediately, Ray's tongue was there to soothe him, and Fraser melted into the touch, feeling his arousal heighten so intensely it was nearly painful. Coherent thought was rapidly becoming a problem, and he steadied himself with his hands resting lightly against Ray's knees.

Ray sighed against his ear. "Go into the bedroom," he instructed, still in that same quiet voice, interspersed with lots of distracting movements from his tongue. "Take your clothes off, and get on the bed. I'll be right behind you."

It didn't make sense, that he should be so aroused by this. Fraser hesitated, concentrating on the rapid pounding of his heart inside his chest. Ray waited patiently, giving him the time he needed to work it out, and that right there was what decided him. Handcuffs or no handcuffs, the same rules applied -- all he had to do was say no, and Ray would stop. The more control he gave up to Ray, the more control he had over what they did together. It was a curious paradox.

But he was thinking again, and he knew Ray wouldn't want that. So he deliberately blanked his mind as he rose unsteadily to his feet, feeling as if his skin were two sizes too small for his body. There was a hot flush on his face, and he knew Ray would be able to see it. Still, he felt strangely un-embarrassed by that fact as Ray followed him into the bedroom.

Outside the window, night was rapidly falling. Fraser barely gave a glance to the spectacular sunset that colored the sky as he stripped out of his clothing, leaving it in a pile on one corner of the floor. He moved mechanically, keeping his gaze lowered, but still, the feel of Ray's gaze on him was like a physical caress.

He kept his eyes down as he crawled onto the bed. The sheets felt cool under his bare skin, and he closed his eyes, breathing out heavily as he settled on his side. He could still feel Ray's gaze on him, and he was sure the flush he felt had to color him straight down to his toes.

"Relax." Ray's voice was soft. A hand smoothed across Fraser's brow, soothing him, and Fraser sighed, relaxing into the touch. He still felt uncomfortably exposed, but there was a freedom in the feeling that he reveled in. His erection throbbed with an urgency that was rapidly becoming difficult to ignore.

Once again, Ray seemed to sense his need without him having to say a word. Fraser couldn't quite contain the small whimper that escaped him when Ray's hand slid over his stomach, urging him gently onto his back. Fraser followed the directions wordlessly, breathing hard. It felt as if there weren't enough oxygen in the room suddenly, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight, not sure if what he was feeling was terror, or excitement, or both.

"Relax," Ray said again, leaning down to tongue at the inner curve of his ear. His hand settled over Fraser's eyes, stroking lightly. "Keep your eyes closed."

Fraser obeyed, feeling even more exposed when Ray took hold of his wrists and pulled them up over his head. He arched his head back sightlessly when he felt the hard wood of the headboard under his hands, and Ray's fingers smoothed over his, urging his hands to close. He held onto the lower slat of the headboard tightly, remembering the night when Ray had cuffed him to it.

It was a different experience, lying on his back. He felt like he couldn't hide this way, and he had to remind himself again that he didn't want to hide from Ray. Ray's lips brushed across his chest, making him jump, and Ray laughed softly as he trailed a kiss down to his lower rib, lapping lightly at the skin there.

"You taste good," Ray told him, and Fraser moaned, barely aware of the sound as it left his lips. His hips moved against the mattress, silently pleading, but Ray ignored him, settling a hand loosely over his waist as he bent to dip his tongue into his navel.

"Ray!" Fraser bucked his hips up sharply, stunned by the unexpectedness of the touch, and he immediately settled again, embarrassed by his reaction. But Ray only kissed him soothingly and smoothed a hand down his side, nuzzling at the hollow in front of his hip.

"Shh." Brief touch of tongue, there and then gone, damp heat cooling against his skin. "Keep your eyes closed. And don't let go of the headboard."

His voice was stern, and Fraser fought through the sensual fog that was rapidly filling his brain, trying to understand what was happening to him. No, don't think. Just feel. Again, Ray's tongue touched him, on the other hip this time, and he arched up into the touch, moving with the rhythms Ray was setting for them.

"That's it." Ray's voice was approving now, and Fraser felt a slow flush of pride move through him. His fingers tightened around the headboard, clinging as hard as he could, his hands held there with nothing more tangible than Ray's will.

And yes, finally.... Ray's tongue caressed the head of his cock, drawing another whimper out of him. God, he was going to go insane if Ray didn't-- There. Ray's mouth closed over him, surrounding him in wet heat, and Fraser threw his head back hard against the pillow with a low cry as Ray's hands settled down over his hips, holding him down against the mattress.

God, Ray looked good like that, blond head bent over his thighs, mouth stretched wide around the fullness of his cock. Fraser stroked his hips up slowly, wanting more of it, and he started when Ray looked up to meet his gaze. Almost immediately, Ray pulled off of him, leaving him reeling with the suddenness of it. What the hell...?

Oh. Fraser's face went hot again as he remembered that he was supposed to keep his eyes closed. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Ray was already moving, sliding sinuously off the bed and moving toward the door. For one frantic moment, Fraser thought he was leaving, but then he came back with the belt of his bathrobe dangling from one hand.

The blindfold. Fraser bit down hard on his lower lip, feeling his heartbeat quicken. Yes, it would be easier this way. He met Ray's gaze evenly, seeing the affectionate exasperation in his gaze as he bent down to ruffle a hand through his hair.

"You don't follow directions so good," Ray said, stroking a thumb over his eyebrow. He sounded amused. "Do you?"

"I'm sorry, Ray." Fraser closed his eyes as Ray settled the blindfold over them, lifting his head off the pillow so Ray could tie the soft cloth at the back of his head.

"I know you are." Ray kissed him lightly on the lips, and Fraser leaned up to follow him as much as he could as he pulled away. "Just make sure you don't let go of that headboard, because I am not using the handcuffs again."

Fraser shivered, feeling a guilty thrill at the unstated threat behind the words. He tightened his grip on the headboard, panting hard through the conflicted emotions that tumbled through his mind. He wasn't sure why Ray wanted his eyes closed, except that he felt even less in control this way. And that was what it was all about, wasn't it? Giving up control to Ray -- not just physically, but emotionally, mentally, offering up everything he thought and felt to Ray, subject to his will alone.

The thought was enough to make him moan even before he felt Ray's mouth on him again. Without being able to see, the sensation was even more intense, and his hips bucked up once before Ray's hands caught him, easing him gently back down to the mattress. Oh, god. He turned his head to the side, rubbing his face against his raised arm, feeling the tension in it, biting down hard on his lower lip to keep from screaming his joy aloud as that hot, slick tongue moved over him.

It couldn't last long. Not like this. The pleasure he felt was almost unbearable, but bear it he did, and he lifted one leg over Ray's shoulders to hold him closer, feeling the coarse rasp of Ray's shirt sliding underneath his calf. It seemed almost obscenely decadent that he was lying naked in bed getting a blow job while Ray was almost fully dressed, and he tossed his head back, riding the rising wave of it, crying out hoarsely as Ray's talented mouth finally, finally drove him over the edge.

He shuddered through his orgasm with a low groan, feeling grateful for the blindfold over his eyes as he lay panting up at the ceiling. It seemed he couldn't breathe for a moment, but that was okay, as long as Ray was here to hold on to him just ... like ... that. Perfection. He floated in a haze of sated bliss as he bent his head in against Ray's chest, his fingers aching where they still held on tightly to the slat of the headboard over his head.

Ray's fingers at his wrist were soothing, coaxing his hands to unclench and move back down toward his chest. Fraser clung to him as he removed the blindfold, not quite ready to let go yet, and Ray held onto him tightly, giving him the time he needed to recover.

"You okay?" Ray murmured, kissing him lightly on the ear. It was becoming his usual question after these kinds of encounters, and Fraser wondered what it was Ray saw in his eyes that made him feel he had to ask.

"Yes." He smiled as he met Ray's gaze, wishing he had the words to tell him how grateful he was. Maybe that, too, would come in time.

Ray's expression softened, and he stroked his fingers over the hair at the side of his face. "You really are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Impossible, to hear such a comment and not feel his face heat up in response to it, but Ray had to be used to that by now. Fraser secretly suspected that Ray only said those kinds of things so he could watch him blush.

Fraser leaned up to kiss him, feeling contented in a way that he couldn't remember feeling in quite some time. Maybe this new dimension in their relationship was going to work out after all. Who could have guessed that a casual decision to exchange sexual fantasies would change his perception of their relationship so utterly? It was exciting, even if he still didn't have the slightest idea where they were headed.

But he was beginning to suspect it would be a hell of a ride.

The End
2/12/02

End Reconciliation by Rushlight: n_sanity75@hotmail.com

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