Boring disclaimer stuff: I'm only borrowing the boys from Alliance, etc. and et al. They don't belong to me, no copyright violation is intended, I'm not making any money off this, I'm using them carefully--well, sorta--and returning them undamaged. As near as I can tell. <g> The story itself is copyright by me. Permission to archive only on the Due South archive at hexwood.

Rating: NC-17 for detailed and m/m sex; i.e., this is slash. If you're under 18, disgusted by such, or if it's illegal for you in any way, then please don't read this. You've got a perfectly good 'Delete' key on your keyboard; no one is forcing you to read it. Remove temptation now, if you consider such stuff as this pornography; I'm not responsible for your moral decisions, you are. You've been warned, and I take no further personal responsibility for any irresponsibility by those who can't understand the above plain statement. (Yes, I'm trying to cover all the options here.) And I have zero money for lawyers! Especially those retained by irate parents frothing at the mouth, or any rabid government agency. I'd really prefer no jail time to appear in my autobiography.

General notes: The original Ray. This is definitely a PWP. Timewise, it doesn't fit anywhere in particular into my other DS fanfic (forthcoming), slash or otherwise. Sometime after the second season, that's all. It's just one random day during a hot summer...

Thanks muchly to Karen, Jennifer, Becca and Linda from the AOL Due South chat for beta-ing, encouragement, and keeping me sane this last year - along with the rest of gang for being there and helping with the sanity bit.. Bless you all! Naturally, any faint cheers, chocolate Mounties and/or original grouchy Chicago cops are appreciated. Oh, yeah, that constructive criticism thing--ok, that too. Flames will be disgruntledly deleted, unless they're really original. (doubtful <g>) TYK and enjoy!

Monica
MonicaPDX2@aol.com


Ignition

© 1998 Monica A. Schafer


It was hot.

The blinds were closed; the apartment was dark in a vain attempt to keep the sun and heat out, but it was still hot. No air conditioning, despite how he suffered from the heat. Just the fan, blowing hot air over hot skin. He wondered if he'd ever get acclimated to the summers here, or if one day he'd simply ignite, like kindling laid for a fire. Ignite, and burn, until the heat seared away everything...

A hand stroked the short hair gently back from his forehead, interrupting the thought. Slowly, like petting a cat. Running delicately through sweat-dampened softness, only the fingertips touching. Even without looking he could picture the long, clever fingers of his lover; the olive skin, the hands narrow next to his own broad ones. Still strong, but so soft now; so tender. He felt breath that would have been warm, if it weren't for the temperature. Against his forehead it felt cool. So did the lips that barely touched him, following behind the fingertips as they slowly traced the line of his cheek. Not light enough to tickle, just hard enough to feel good. Hard enough to ignite a different kind of flame. He kept his eyes closed.

Wetness that wasn't droplets of sweat. A tiny meander of a tongue over his cheek, then breath cooling the path it drew. He'd shaved twice that day, getting ready for this, but knew the texture the tongue would be feeling; flushed skin soft under tiny prickles of beard-stubble, barely noticeable in one direction, not at all in the other. Down along his cheek, to his chin, then a gentle kiss on his mouth, hardly there. His lips opened, but he didn't move; he waited.

Light kisses, from his chin to his throat, wandering to the side of his neck, where the tendon stretched up to the point just behind his earlobe. More kisses, soft licks, teasing and tickling. He shuddered once, turning his head to the opposite side, leaving himself open to more sensation. He could feel the mouth smile against him. Deeper kisses now, sucking and softly nibbling. A gentle nip of the earlobe, soothed by a moist, velvet tongue. The tongue running back down the tendon, almost tickling. Almost. Not quite. Making him shiver, making goosebumps rise, even though the tongue was warm.

Movement, and shifting over him, but no other touches on him yet. Bare trail of fingers across his throat, as he turned his head the other way, eyes still closed, so the sensations could be repeated on the other side of his neck. Again, along the tendon, behind the ear, a finger tenderly stroking the edge of his ear, maddeningly, over and over.

Finally the kisses moved down. Slow, still soft, occasionally sucking at his skin, varied with a tongue tasting him. Tasting the salt from the sweat. Slowly, slowly down to a nipple. A hand mirroring the movement of the mouth on the other side of his body, circling the nipple softly. As did the tongue against the other nipple; slowly around, slowing more as it circled closer to the center. Warm breath and wet tongue, delicate fingertip; opposite yet paired.

He bit his lip; the movement slowed, and he almost arched toward that maddening sensation. This soon? This early? Oh, no. It couldn't be affecting him that much, he'd never been one of those men whose nipples were that sensitive, even with being teased to death by-

Ohhhh.

The wet mouth surrounding one nipple, tongue flickering over the small hardness, and the finger tickling the other, scratching ever so gently. No sucking yet, the tongue simply moving, round and round or back and forth, the finger mimicking the motion on the other nipple. Still softly, tenderly, pressing down a little now, wetness sliding and feeling so good, tickling at times.

Suddenly, the mouth suckling, the thumb joining the finger, both nipples being pulled and tugged and twisted, hard and then soft. Alternating, sensation rushing from one to the other, so he squirmed just as suddenly, taken by surprise. Gasping a bit, not used to feeling so much. His breathing deepening, faster, but still mostly quiet, even when mouth and hand switched sides, fingers pinching harder on the tight, wet nub that the mouth had left. Wetness and softness and the slightest touch of teeth on the other side, then pulling and worrying at it, biting almost to the point of pain as the fingers pinched again and twisted, rolled the sensitive flesh. Then softening, tongue soothing, fingers caressing.

God, that felt good!

Had he said that out loud? No...but why were the mouth and hand leaving him now, traveling downward? He wanted them back--but he couldn't speak. He made a little protesting sound; the only answer was a slight chuckle against the skin of his midriff, tickling. A swift tongue-flick, then more wet tickling, moving down to his navel. Now what?

Kisses. Kisses and licks and little stops to suck lightly, wet tongue tickling the center, gentle nips and tugs on the edges of his navel. Those long-fingered hands running over him softly, from chest down to hips and back again, slowly, feeling the texture of his skin, sliding back and forth. Hot, where skin touched skin, new sweat springing up, but it felt good. Slick and soft and alive, until he didn't know where he left off and the other skin began. His hips shifted, involuntarily, but it didn't do any good. Another soft laugh against his skin as the body above him avoided touching him except with hands and mouth

Damn, this was...this was driving him insane. It was a good thing he'd come once already. After anticipating for so long, he hadn't been able to wait the first time. But now...He felt as if he hadn't come at all. And he hadn't even been touched below the hips yet!

Until now. Wet kisses moving down, hands gripping his hips, soft, soft skin and the softer brush of chest hair against him, settling between his thighs. Lean but strong arms holding his legs on either side, against more soft skin. Soft and hot, both of them sweaty, from heat and desire and inner heat. He was hard again, but that mouth wasn't touching him there yet. No, still kissing him, in the sensitive area where inner thigh joined his belly, just outside where the curls began. Kissing and licking again, blowing cool air, tickling him as he spread his legs wider, restlessly.

Please. I can't stand this. Are you going to touch me at all?

Nuzzling against him, all around the base of him, but still not touching his cock. He felt Ray's cheek against a thigh as Ray rubbed his face against him, breathing in his scent. Ben's turn to feel the sandpapery feel of stubble against skin; Ray had a heavier beard, and hadn't taken time to shave again. Too much in a hurry, he'd bet...He heard Ray inhale, felt him bury his face against the crease of his groin, those hands sliding firmly down his thighs. His legs being nudged further apart, light breath on him tickling the damp curls.

Ray brought his arms inside Ben's legs and flattened out more; Ben could feel him sinking down. Now what?

A hand cupping his balls tenderly, lifting as he tightened, and a wet tongue circled him. He gasped, loudly, and felt his testicles draw up even tighter, the skin of his sac crinkling. He still had his eyes closed, so couldn't see Ray wet his lips, but Ben felt him very gently open his mouth over him and suck one of his testicles into his mouth.

"Oh God, Ray!"

Sliding wet heat, tender suction and agile tongue moving, tickling, and a hand still softly massaging the other ball; gentle tugging and pressure and indescribable sensation. After endless moments, Ray let it slip out of his mouth, only to pull the other inside and drive Ben through it all over again, his hand caressing the one he'd left.

It seemed to go on forever, as Ben gasped and writhed, until he finally realized that Ray's tongue was sliding up his cock, tracing the ridge the length of the underside. Wet and hot, one hand closing over his balls and still fondling him, the other curling around the base of him while a thumb pressed just behind his balls, massaging gently, until Ray found the rhythm and pressure that made him tense all over. His tongue swirled around the tip of Ben's cock slowly, and he drew back.

Ben finally had to open his eyes, look down the length of himself to where Ray lay between his legs, his hands still moving on him as Ray looked back at him. Ray smiled, still holding his gaze, opened that generous mouth and captured the head of his cock.

Ben jerked, his hips lifting as he let out a harsh cry. Ray rose just enough and moved his elbows to rest on Fraser's legs, holding him down. His tongue was still circling Ben's cock at the tip, soft lips surrounding him, holding him gently inside his mouth, but not moving otherwise. Ben clenched his fists and tried to lie still.

It was impossible. Ben managed not to thrust, but couldn't stop himself from twitching and shuddering and gasping occasionally. His breathing quickened; he fought not to grab Ray's head and push down as the heat built relentlessly. Ray's head was moving up and down slowly, his tongue circling or flicking back and forth to tickle, as he searched out the most sensitive spots. Hot, so hot, so wet, and sliding deeper and deeper, as he slowed even more. Sucking Ben in from the very tip, down, down so slowly, until he could take no more; then his tongue sliding up and down and tickling as he released the suction and moved back up. Up, letting him slowly out of his mouth, until he only held the head, so his tongue could swirl around again, or slide up and down over the slit, or the sensitive spot just beneath the flared tip.

Fraser was moaning now, his hips twisting under Ray, as he tried not to move. He moved one hand to rest on Ray's head, clenching a little against the soft plush of short-cropped hair; not trying to control the movement, just feeling Ray move to pleasure him. Speeding up, now, as he stopped sucking and just slid his mouth up and down over him. Faster and faster, then slowing down again and changing tactics. Slow, slow, tongue moving again, sucking again, then releasing the suction; one minute concentrating on the head, the next taking him as deep as he could again. Alternating and tormenting, until he didn't know when to thrust or hold back, so all Ben could do was squirm under his lover. Ray's hands and clever fingers still massaging and tickling, rolling and stroking his balls, still rubbing beneath them or ringing the base of his shaft and pumping.

Ray kept moving, keeping him at a peak but never allowing him to fall over the edge. He almost came once or twice, but he gasped a warning. It surprised him, the first time, when Ray's mouth released him and he fastened his thumb and forefinger around Ben's cock just under the flare of the head, to squeeze carefully but tightly. So tightly that it almost hurt, so tight that nothing could have escaped him if he wanted it to. Ray held him so for several seconds, as Ben felt himself pulse once or twice. Nothing came out, the pressure of Ray's fingers closed him; and he continued to hold Ben until he relaxed very slightly, quivering. Then Ray slowly released him.

He'd heard of it, but no one had ever done it to him. Ray concentrated on less sensitive methods for another minute or two; Ben felt himself lose some of his erection, just a little. Then Ray's mouth came back down on him and he began building him higher again. Higher and hotter, both of them covered in sweat, until Fraser almost came again and Ray repeated it, squeezing until he backed off once more. Ben didn't stop groaning this time. Ray was driving him crazy, and he wanted to come, anywhere, as long as it was inside his love. His hands were clenched in the sweat-damp sheet under him, he felt like he was burning up, and all he could feel, all that existed, was Ray's mouth and hands on him, slowly driving him insane.

Higher and higher, fingers sliding up his cock as that mouth slid down, hot and wet and tight as he suckled; then one wet finger was rubbing delicately between his cheeks, teasing, and almost before Ben realized it was sliding in, very carefully. Slow, slow, while Ray's mouth moved on him, his other hand cupping his balls. Slower yet, as he withdrew, then back in again; back and forth, slightly painful until Ben relaxed, feeling the sensation turn into pleasure as Ray moved inside him. Feeling it grow as he added another finger, so Ben didn't know which way to move, so he couldn't thrust up or push back, but only writhe, caught between mouth and hands.

Ray sped up gradually, the pleasure building higher; Ben's voice growing louder, only now realizing that the moans and whispered exclamations were coming from him. Higher, with nothing existing but the feel of Ray around him and inside him, as his balls tightened and he began to tremble. Fingers suddenly pushing deep, deep inside, feeling for the bulge of his prostate, massaging it as Ray took as much of him as he could in his mouth.

Ben groaned, bucked, pierced and held by conflicting pleasures, feeling himself convulse. Pulse after pulse of ecstasy driving through him, the fire inside leaping free, consuming him. Burning as Ray's fingers still moved, as his hand slid up and down, his mouth moved over the head of him and his tongue caressed him as he came. Coming harder, so hard Ben shook all over; shook until with one last thrust he groaned again and collapsed, chest heaving, heart pounding.

Hardly aware, he lay panting as Ray's mouth lifted from him. The fingers were pulled out of him slowly, careful, with him involuntarily still gripping them tight. A kiss planted on the tip of him, soft and gentle.

Ray moved back up, moist skin sliding over his, sweat combining, kissed him as they lay together, breathing slowing, feeling the air from the fan moving over them. He managed to get an arm under Ray's head, pulling him close despite the way it would make them even more sweaty.

That was okay. Was to be expected. Especially after this, in this kind of weather.

It was hot...


The End


Return to Due South Fiction Archive