Disclaimer: Due South and its universe do not belong to me.
I'll get over it someday. Fireworks
Ray Kowalski lay on his back, arms and legs outstretched, hands
clenched tightly, as Benton Fraser's magical tongue moved across his
chest. Strong fingers reached up to play with his nipples as the wet
heat slipped into his navel, and he gave a mighty groan. Finally, the
moment he had waited for was on hand as his lover's mouth slipped even
lower, towards his throbbing erection, throbbing, pulsing, pounding,
knocking, knocking...
Ray woke with a start, gasping for breath, his hand automatically
reaching for his aching cock as he realized that the knocking was in
fact coming from his front door.
"Fuck."
He debated staying quiet until whoever it was left, but his GTO
was parked out front so anyone could tell he was home. Besides, the
only people who ever dropped by without calling first were his landlady
and Fraser, and there was no use hiding from either of them. She always
had a sixth sense about when he was in the apartment, and Fraser, well
Fraser could probably hear his heartbeat, or smell him, or something.
Not, of course, that he wanted to hide from Fraser, except maybe when
he woke up with a raging hard-on brought about by incredibly erotic and
guilty dreams about his straight and pure-as-maple-syrup best friend.
"Ray?" The muffled voice reached him from beyond the front door,
and he sighed. Fraser it was. With a stifled curse he lunged out of
bed, grabbing his ratty old bathrobe and shrugging it on, heading for
the door.
For appearance's sake, he growled out "What!" before flinging
the door open, secretly admiring the startled Mountie on the other side.
In deference to the hot July day, Fraser was in jeans and a t-shirt,
a panting wolf at his feet. He held his Stetson in his hands, and as
Ray watched, a look of consternation crossed the other man's face.
"I am sorry, Ray; I didn't mean to wake you."
"S'okay, Frase," Ray grumbled, as if having a warm Mountie show
up on his doorstep wasn't the highlight of any day. "C'mon in."
Fraser and Dief gratefully entered the apartment, the human giving
a small sigh of relief at the coolness of the air-conditioned room, the
wolf heading straight for the appliance in question and settling down
in the breeze.
Ray got his guest a glass of cold water, trying not to gawk at
Fraser's throat when the man swallowed. With an inward sigh, he excused
himself and headed for the bathroom, hoping that being out of sight of
the other man would let him get his own body under control.
After a few minutes spend splashing cold water on his face and
willing his erection to subside enough not to embarrass him, he headed
back to the living room, stopping with a slight frown at the sound of
Fraser's voice.
"... I do know what I'm doing. Besides, I am a Mountie. I can
handle any..." The soft voice trailed off again, and Ray shook his head.
Fraser was talking to the wolf again. 'Freak', the thought fondly.
He strolled into the room, mildly surprised to see Fraser gazing
into the kitchen rather than at Dief, who was curled up, asleep, on the
floor. He cleared his throat, and Fraser jumped, startled, spinning
back towards him almost guiltily.
"Ah, Ray, I was just... er..."
"Talkin' to yourself again?" Ray supplied, amused, and Fraser
smiled ruefully.
"Apparently."
"So what brings you around, anyway? Besides, the AC, I mean?"
"Well, Ray, I was wondering if I might use your television. Today
is Canada Day, and many of the festivities are televised, including the
fireworks tonight on Parliament Hill in Ottawa."
"So why don't you watch them on the tv at the Consulate?"
Fraser looked away, blushing slightly. "I suppose I could, though
with the Consulate closed today, and both the Inspector and Turnbull
back in Canada this week-end..." He glanced up again, chagrined. "You're
right, Ray. Perhaps I should return to the Consulate after all; I'm
sorry to have bothered you."
Ray watched in horror as Fraser turned away, heading for the door.
Cursing himself for the stupidity and insensitivity of his question -
of course Fraser would be feeling lonely and homesick on his own country's
birthday - he moved quickly, reaching the door a second before the Mountie
and placing himself in his friend's path.
"I'm sorry, Frase; that's not what I meant at all. C'mon, you
go find the right channel, and I'll get dressed and go get us somethin'
to munch on, and we'll do Canada Day right."
Ray was rewarded with a smile that almost melted his kneecaps.
"Thank you kindly, Ray."
Oh yeah, he'd be more than willing to put up with a day of Canadian
so-called 'entertainment' to get a smile like that out of Fraser.
Several hours later Ray was seriously upgrading his estimation
of Canadians and their culture. He and Fraser had spent an enjoyable
afternoon camped out on his couch, watching an endless parade of Canadian
celebrities and musicians perform on Parliament Hill in what seemed to
be a massive free concert, and while, to Ray's ear, a lot of the music
didn't sound any different than what came out of the States, except maybe
for the stuff that was in French, there were enough acts from Native
Canadian groups, and some kick-ass fiddle-players from the Atlantic provinces,
to keep both men's rapt attention. Of course, Fraser kept up an on-going
cultural commentary, especially during a fifteen-minute special on the
RCMP musical ride, which had been performed in Ottawa the day before,
as well as providing Ray with simultaneous translations of the French
parts of the shows.
By the time evening had rolled around both men found themselves
sprawled on the couch, gorged on pizza (with pineapple and extra Canadian
bacon), waiting for the legendary fireworks display to start. They had
gradually moved closer together over the course of the day until they
were side by side, almost touching. Ray enjoyed the comfortable closeness,
though he didn't let himself think about it too much.
It was during a set of commercials that Ray felt the change.
He was chuckling at a certain proud Canadian doing a beer commercial
when he stopped suddenly, turning his head to meet Fraser's intense gaze.
"I want to thank you, Ray," the Mountie said softly. "It was
very kind of you to spend your day off doing this with me."
Ray smiled self-consciously. "Aw, geez, Frase. You know there's
nothing else I'd rather do."
He could have sworn that beautiful face had moved even closer
to his own, though maybe that was just wishful thinking.
"Why not?"
The question caught him by surprise. "I like doin' stuff with
you, Frase. You're my best friend."
Blue eyes gazed into his, unblinking. "Is that all, Ray?"
Ray's heartbeat sped up. There was no way this conversation was
going where he thought it was. Was there? "What do you mean?"
"Am I just your best friend?"
Ray swallowed. "Right now? Yeah," he whispered, then shocked
himself by adding, "Unfortunately."
Fraser blinked, then flashed Ray that blinding smile again. "Understood,"
he said, before leaning forward suddenly and pressing his lips to Ray's.
Ray tensed as electricity seemed to shoot through his entire body,
then melted into Fraser's embrace, throwing his own arms around the other
man's shoulders and returning the kiss enthusiastically. He wasn't entirely
sure which one of them had just gone insane, but there was no way in
Hell he was going to fight it.
He trailed his fingers through Fraser's thick, dark locks and
thrilled as the Mountie moaned, deepening the kiss and thrusting his
tongue deeply into the cop's mouth. Their tongues danced together, caressing
and tasting each other, sending waves of arousal crashing through them
both.
Finally they pulled apart slightly, gasping for breath. Ray realized
that Fraser was saying something, and fought past the rushing of blood
in his ears. "... wanted to do that for so long, Ray," the Mountie was
muttering, and Ray felt happiness bloom inside him.
"God, Fraser... Ben, me too."
At the sound of his first name on Ray's lips, Fraser's eyes widened,
then narrowed as he launched himself at his partner once again. This
time Ray found himself on his back on the narrow couch, his mouth full
of agile Mountie tongue, his skin tingling from the touch of the hands
Fraser had managed to slip under his shirt, his cock hard and aching
from the thigh rubbing against it. His own hands seemed to have a mind
of their own, reaching down to tug the hem of Fraser's shirt out of his
jeans, then trailing up the large, hairless chest to toy with the man's
nipples, eliciting another low moan from that gorgeous throat.
Fraser shifted, and Ray nearly swallowed his tongue as their groins
met, and for a brief time the men moved as one, their lips sealed together,
their hands moving in unison, their hard cocks grinding against one another
through two pairs of jeans.
Suddenly a thought made its way through the aroused haze in Ray's
mind. This was Fraser's national holiday, and he wanted to do something
for the Canadian to help him celebrate it. Granted, he had never actually
done anything of the sort before, though he was familiar with the logistics,
having had the act performed on him more than once, and he was sure that
in this case his enthusiasm would more than make up for his lack of experience.
And boy, was he feeling enthusiastic!
With a sudden burst of energy he managed to flip their positions
so that he was now laying atop the Mountie, then sat up, straddling the
other man. With quick agility he stripped of Fraser's shirt, moving his
hands down to undo his friend's jeans. Fraser's eyes grew large as he
realized what Ray was doing, the pupils widening in arousal. He moved
his hands to Ray's shirt, but was stoped by the blond man's whisper.
"No, Ben. This time, it's for you."
Fraser frowned, confused, but obeyed, and lay back, biting back
a whimper as Ray's fingers slipped into his jeans and gently grasped
his erection.
"Ray!"
"Shhh, love," answered Ray, tugging on the waistband of the jeans
and bringing both them and the boxers beneath them down past Fraser's
knees. On the television, someone was singing Canada's national anthem,
and Ray gazed in rapt wonder at the one part of Fraser that was standing
at attention, straight, proud and red. "Oh, Canada," he breathed, and
Fraser sputtered, his face flushing.
"For God's sake, Ray..." His embarrassed protest was cut off
by an abrupt yelp as Ray swooped down and engulfed that Canadian cock
in his mouth.
"Ray!" came Fraser's strangled shout as his hands moved of their
own accord to cup Ray's head, not forcing his actions at all but merely
stroking the tangled blond spikes.
Ray took as much of Fraser's penis as he could into his mouth,
wrapping his fingers around the rest of the shaft and rocking to the
movement of his friend's hips. All the times he'd ever thought - or
dreamed - about doing this, he'd never imagined it would be this good:
the feel of the hard flesh moving in and out of his mouth, the strong,
salty taste of the pre-cum leaking from the tip, the overwhelming scent
of Fraser's arousal, the moans and whimpers coming from further up the
couch... but most of all, the fact that this was *Fraser* lying half-naked
underneath him, with his cock in Ray's mouth, his hands in Ray's hair,
crying out "Loveyouray, loveyouray" over and over.
Dimly, Ray could hear the sound of explosions coming from the
television as the fireworks lit the sky over the Ottawa river. A thousand
miles away, Ray could feel their own set of fireworks starting as Fraser
tensed and shouted out Ray's name, spurting a great jet of salty-sweet
cream into his partner's mouth. Ray swallowed convulsively, relishing
Fraser's taste, and the realization of how easily he could become addicted
to it sent him over the edge, crying out, pumping his own semen into
his jeans.
The sound of the fireworks dwindled in time with his pounding
heartbeat, and he lay his head on Fraser's thigh as his friend... now
his lover... caught his breath. The Mountie's fingers resumed their
gentle stroking of his head, tugging him gently until he got the hint
and crawled up into Fraser's embrace. At once his face was cupped between
those strong hands and he was kissed thoroughly and reverently.
Finally he pulled away to gaze uncertainly into Fraser's eyes,
reassured and somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer love he found there.
"Oh, Ray," Fraser whispered, stroking his cheek affectionately.
In a moment of sheer courage - or stupidity - Ray steeled himself
and spoke the words that had been plaguing his dreams for so long. "I
love you, Ben."
That smile again. He'd kill for that smile, and he'd already
seen it three times today. "I love you, Ray," came the response he'd
always craved, and he was filled with intense joy.
Ignoring the cooling wetness in his pants he lay his head against
his lover's shoulder, feeling a thrill as Fraser wrapped his arms tightly
around him, laying his cheek on Ray's soft blond spikes.
"Happy Canada Day, Ben."
The arms around him tightened briefly. "Happy Canada Day, Ray...
and many more."
Fraser's voice sounded so wistful that Ray swore on the spot that
he'd look up each and every damned Canadian holiday and celebrate every
single one of them with Ben. Right now, though, sleepy and more content
than he'd been in a very long time, he settled for saying "Count on it,
Benton buddy, count on it."
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