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Author's Notes: This is my response to the livejournal ds_flashfiction Telephone Challenge, which was: "Write a scene featuring or in some significant way turning upon a telephone. Think conversations, dials and buttons, phone sex, cell phones, phone booths, crank calls, phone sex, wrong numbers, phone threats, heavy breathing, phone sex, the game of telephone, the implications of long-distance, 702 (the area code of Vegas), Fraser on top of a pole, phone sex, and did I mention the phone sex?"

Story Notes:

Fraser leaned against the table in Ray's kitchen, watching Ray make tea. The late afternoon sun slanted across the room, infusing the scene with a golden glow. Ray himself seemed illuminated, shining, and once again Fraser was overcome with a fierce futile longing, so intense it stole his breath.

Why, he thought with a quiet despair, why was it always up to him? There stood Ray, all beautiful and golden, his for the taking, and yet he didn't dare make a move. Every time, every single time he reached for what he wanted, he was slapped down and denied. His mother, his father's approval, his career, Victoria - his past was nothing but a string of empty failures, each more degrading than the last.

Fraser closed his eyes. A sign, he thought. I just need one small sign that Ray would welcome my attentions. I really could not bear it if I failed with Ray as well. His eyes snapped open at the feel of Ray's hand on his shoulder.

Ray was staring at him intently, eyes narrowed, a furrow between his brows. Suddenly, amazingly, miraculously, Ray made a noise deep in his throat and leapt at Fraser, knocking him back onto the table. Oh, thank God, Fraser thought, and desperately wrapped his arms around Ray, pulling him in for a deep, heated, soul-baring kiss.

Ray writhed against him, and the feel of Ray, the friction, notched Fraser's excitement even higher. Suddenly, Ray moaned and just melted into Fraser, tongue dueling, hands sliding, caressing, kneading. Fraser wrapped his legs around Ray's waist and arched upward, wringing groans from both their throats. Fraser kept thrusting against Ray, over and over, and even when they rolled off the table he never stopped moving.

Later, as Ray was wiping come off of the cabinet doors, he turned to Fraser with a quizzical look. "Why today, Frase? I mean, you had a thing, yeah, I knew you had a thing, I been waiting and waiting, but I didn't think you were ever going to do it."

Frase pushed himself up on his elbows, wishing irritably that his traitorous body would stop twitching. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Ray. You were the one who made the first move, jumping into my arms that way. It was the sign I'd been waiting for."

Ray blushed and bit his lip. "Oh, that. Oh, well, um. You remember, we went to the movies this afternoon?" He reached over and grabbed his cell phone from where it had slid under the refrigerator. "Had this fucker set on vibrate; scares the shit out of me every single time." He raised his eyebrows and grinned at Fraser.

Fraser snorted and dropped his head back onto the floor. " 'And yea, His ways are mysterious and passeth beyond all understanding.' " He looked up in alarm as Ray began swearing furiously.

Ray dropped to his knees beside Fraser and shoved the cell phone at his face. "It was Welsh! And I didn't call back, and it's been two fucking hours!" Ray widened his eyes and put his hand on Fraser's naked chest. "You'll call him back for me, right buddy?"

Fraser put his hand over Ray's and slowly shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Ray. After all, it was not for me for whom the bell did not toll."

Ray looked at Fraser for a long, long, moment. Finally, he said, "You do realize, Fraser, that if I didn't already love you I'd be obligated to hate you right now."

His heart full to bursting, Fraser leaned up and kissed Ray on the tip of his nose. "Understood," he said, grinning wildly. "Understood."

End It's For You by Doll: space___monkey___@hotmail.com

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