Author's disclaimer: Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately. But they're on my shopping list when I finally make it to Canada ... No harm is intended, this is a work of fiction, don't even bother suing me because I'm so broke it's way beyond funny.

Author's notes: No spoilers, but set roughly after MotB, timewise. Also note: //thoughts// and *emphasis*

So I'm alone in my apartment after work one night, as per usual. Dinner's done, and I'm winding down, got some Billie Holiday on the stereo. I'm dancin' a little slow, lost in the music, feeling the tension drain away. Wishing I wasn't so alone. Wishin' Fraser was here with me.

Then there's this polite tap on my door and I know, I just *know* that it's him. Nobody else knocks like Fraser. I turn off the music and open the door.

"Hey, Frase. Whassup?" I ask, leaning against the door, trying to ignore his gorgeousness for the millionth time. He looks a little lost, and more than a little nervous.

"Er - hello, Ray," he begins. "I - ah ... I'm sorry to interrupt your evening like this, but ..."

He stops, flushing red, and looks at his feet. It's such a cute picture that I have to take a step back and order my hormones down. Then I take a closer look at him. It hits me like a rock between the eyes.

//He's lonely.//

It's in every line of his body. I can see it in his eyes, in his hands, even the way he hesitates on the balls of his feet, like he's ready to leave in a second. So I'm careful with him.

"Come on in," I say, stepping back to let him pass. He stands just inside the door, holding his hat, looking everywhere but at me.

"You're feelin' it too tonight, huh?" He looks at me, his frown puzzled. "The loneliness," I clarify. He pauses as it hits home, then his eyes widen.

"No - that is, not exactly ... I mean ..." he stutters quickly, then closes his eyes and takes a breath. "Yes." When he opens them again the doors inside him are wide open, letting me in. "I don't want to spend another night alone."

//Yes.// I let myself revel for one moment. I've gotten to him, gotten under his skin, made him see what he's been missing out on. Now I need to shock him the rest of the way out.

I take a step closer, then another, moving slowly so I don't startle him. He watches me, his face unsure, like he's expecting me to lay him out on the floor or something. I wait till the silence is stretched so thin it's screaming over every nerve. Then I smile at him and take the plunge I've been planning for almost a year.

"You don't have to be alone, Fraser. I'm here. I'll be with you." He starts to speak, to say what I don't know. But I talk over him. "I need you, too. I love you. I want you all over me, any way, any time you want."

I wince as the words echo off the walls. Guess I spoke 'em a little louder than I'd meant to. But at least I finally got his attention. In fact, it looks like I actually managed to shut him up for once. Good call.

But he stays like that for the longest time, not sayin' a word, just starin' at me with those blue eyes like I've grown another head. I'm waitin' for him to react somehow, and the tension's thicker than his skull must be, and I'm gettin' more and more edgy. And still he just keeps on starin'.

"Hello. Are you in there?" I wave a hand in front of his face, and he blinks. "Ground control to Fraser, you copy?"

He's back with me now, and he blushes red, ashamed of zoning out like that. But I don't mind. 'Cause while he was starin', he had this look in his eyes that I've never seen on him. Like I'd just offered him somethin' he's always wanted but never thought he'd get. Yeah, like that. So I don't mind that he hasn't answered me. The look on his face says just about everything I need to know.

Still, I can't help teasing him a bit. "You operatin' on all cylinders, Frase?" I ask wickedly, turning my grin on him. "Thought maybe you didn't hear what I just told ya." I step in close to him, close enough to feel the incredible heat of him, close enough to realise he's not standin' there stiff as a post because he's angry, or afraid. It's 'cause he's tryin' to keep control, for my sake. I can read it in his face, in the way he's holding himself so straight and still. Body language. He's trembling with the effort, and that makes me hotter than I think I've ever been. I lean in closer still, not touching him, but invading his personal space in a big way. He twitches, just once, when I put my mouth up near his ear. Then I whisper the words again.

"I love you, Ben. I love you so bad it hurts. And I want you to fuck me. Right here, right now, and your noble Mountie virtues be damned."

He's still for maybe two more seconds. Then suddenly, all at once he's grabbing me and throwing me against the wall, holding me there with the weight of his legs, and he's kissin' me like I'm the air he needs to breathe. It's wild and desperate and very, very hot. I'm already on the verge of coming in my jeans, and we've barely even started.

"Ray," he mutters, his mouth on my skin, his breath burning me. "Ray ..."

I know what he's sayin'. I know he can't tell me, that it's hard for him. But that doesn't matter, 'cause he feels it, and that's what's important. Him and me, together. It's like my dreams. Better, even. And now it's real.

Suddenly I can't get close enough. He's pushing me against the wall, covering me everywhere, but I need more. I need all of him, and I don't wanna wait any more.

"Fuck me, Ben," I breathe. "Make me yours."

He growls low in his throat and straightens up, pulling me with him as he heads for the bedroom. Once we get there he doesn't even pause, just falls straight onto the bed and brings me down on top of him. I don't get the chance to speak before he yanks my T-shirt off over my head and tosses it aside. Then his hands are on my skin and his tongue's back in my mouth and I'm not thinking about anything except his touch and his taste and oh, God yeah, right *there* ...

Somehow I manage to draw back long enough to help us both get naked. He takes a little longer than me - hell, all the stuff he wears should come with instructions - so while he's unstrapping and unbuttoning I'm rummaging in the nightstand for lube and condoms. I'd felt stupid putting them there a few months ago. Now I'm glad I did. I sneak a glance at Ben, shirtless, working on the laces of his boots. *Very* glad.

He's beautiful. So absolutely drop-dead betray-your-mother-in-a-split-second gorgeous that for a second I just get stuck looking at him. All that pale skin, those smoothly shifting muscles. All that strength and gentleness combined in a dark-haired, blue-eyed package that should be illegal.

All *mine*.

I reach out, put a finger to the skin of his back, and he trembles in response. Just from that light touch. It blows my mind. I move closer to him and wrap my arms around him, leaning into his warmth and pressing a kiss to his neck. He shudders and drags off his last boot roughly, stripping off socks, pants and underwear in record time. Then he turns around and looks at me, and right there I know I'm in a world of trouble. He's riled up, on the edge, and it'll only take a fingertip to push him over.

I grin suggestively. "Are you warmed up yet?" I ask. "Or do ya wanna play around a little more-"

He cuts off my words with a kiss so hungry I feel like he's trying to eat me alive. Maybe he is, in a way. I get the feeling nobody's ever really loved Ben the way he deserves. I figure it's up to me to change that. I can't think of anything I'd rather do.

"Love you, Ben," I tell him again. He's gotta get used to hearin' it. "Love you so much ..."

That does it. He's gone. He pushes me down onto my back and pretty much attacks me, licking and sucking and hell, even biting, any part of me he can. His hands are everywhere, on my chest, my hips, in my hair - then he brushes against my cock and everything narrows down to that single sensation. I'm arching off the bed, begging for more, and he's slipping down my body, licking a path from my mouth to my cock, raising gooseflesh along the way. Then he's got me in his mouth and he's sucking hard and strong and it's like nothing, but *nothing* has ever felt this good. Not even with Stella.

"Ben ..." I moan, fisting my hands in his hair, trying to drive myself deeper into his mouth even though he's already taken all of me. He just sucks harder, using his teeth to rake over the length of my cock, drawing back until just the tip is inside his mouth, his tongue swirling over the head, his clever fingers cupping my balls, rubbing in that spot behind them, *there*, oh yeah, his mouth claiming my cock again as his hands move back further, finding the opening between my ass cheeks and stroking it softly as he sucks me and it's more than I can stand ...

I'm coming in a blinding rush, harder than I can ever remember, and he's taking it, swallowing every last drop until I'm done, collapsed into a heap on the bed.

"Are you all right, Ray?" he asks, polite as you please, like I've just stubbed my toe or somethin'. I can't answer. I can't even remember my own name, much less try to tell him how goddamn *amazing* I feel. Because of him. So I just reach up a shaky arm and pull him down for another kiss, tryin' to tell him in a different way.

A few minutes later I've got my breath back and I'm seein' that Ben's still hard as a rock. He's gotta be hurtin', but he's not sayin' a word. He's makin' sure *I'm* happy, like he always does for the people he cares about. That breaks my heart and makes me feel ten feet tall at the same time. 'Cause I know he cares about me enough to ignore what he wants - what he *needs*, even - to be certain I'm satisfied.

But I'm not satisfied. I'm not even close. I feel an ache inside me, and he's the only one who can fix it. He's the only one I *want* to fix it.

"Benny." He looks at me, his eyes burning, so focused on me the apartment could be on fire and he'd never notice. "I want you inside me."

He gets even more intense, if that's possible, and does the still thing again. "Are you sure?" he says quietly. Givin' me another chance to back out. Even though I know he needs this more than anythin' he's ever needed before. Even though I still want him so bad I'm dyin' inside.

I twist on the bed and pick up the lube and condom. "Yeah. I'm sure." I lay a hand on his cheek. "I hurt, Ben. I need you to make the ache go away."

He draws in a quick, shuddering breath, his eyes flaring deep blue, almost glowing. Then he's putting the condom and lube on, coating his fingers as well and reaching down between my legs again. I try to reach for him, to bring him down on me, but he warns me off.

"Don't. Don't touch me right now." He's almost growling, and it thrills me. "If you touch me now I'm going to lose it, and I don't want to hurt you."

Those words make me melt. He's probing with his slick fingers, easing inside me, stretching and rubbing and it feels so good I don't ever want it to stop. I'm thrusting against his hand, trying to take more, but he holds back until I'm goin' crazy with need.

"Ben - damn it, I need you *now*," I moan, hauling him down on me. I grab his head and kiss him wildly, stroking his cock, trying to break that goddamn iron control that holds him in - and then he's out of it, shoving a pillow under my hips, pulling my legs apart and plunging in hard, till he's in all the way and we're groaning together in mingled pleasure-pain and I'm feeling so full of him we're almost the same person. Then he starts to move, slow and deep, hitting *that* spot with every stroke, and before I know it I'm writhing under him, my cock hard again, drawing my legs up to hold him deep inside as he thrusts and thrusts and thrusts till I can't stand it anymore. I throw my head back, rake my short nails over his shoulders and scream ...

When the world starts spinning again I realise he's still inside me, collapsed on top of me like he's dead or somethin'. I wrap my arms around him and lick the sweat from his shoulder. Our hearts are racing like crazy, but I feel - boneless. Lazy. Completely happy for the first time in years.

Eventually we recover enough to separate and clean up. Then we climb back into bed and cuddle, my head on Ben's chest, arms and legs tangled together. It feels good. It feels *right*.

"So, Benny," I say lazily, stifling a yawn. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

He chuckles softly, deep in his chest, and pulls me closer. "You know, Ray," he replies, "I don't have the faintest idea."

THE END