By Mikla

Rated NC17. m/m warnings. Slight kink warnings too. If ya don't like your Ben 'bad in bed' then I suggest ya skip.

These characters are property of Alliance, not me, 'cept I still like to play with them.

Lucky or Not.

Ray walked into a crowded squad room in desperate search of caffeine-based substances. Ray realised he was no less a junkie than the crack addict he'd arrested that afternoon. An addict. A different sort of addict. But an addict none the less. Ray sighed and slumped into his chair, well Vecchio's chair, but it was as close to 'his' as he was ever going to get. He waited as he always did, for Fraser to arrive. How sad and desperate had he become to rely on his Mountie partner for entertainment, and not just in the workplace. He looked up at the clock and counted down the hours before they could share some 'real' entertainment. Ok, so they shouldn't be drawing attention to their relationship, because of the assignment thingy, working or otherwise, but it seemed that they couldn't help themselves. Ray yawned with enthusiasm before running a hand through his already unruly blonde spikes.

"Hey Frase," Ray greeted at the flash of red he knew was his partner.

"Good evening Ray," the Mountie politely returned, Ray wondered why he never sounded that polite when just the two of them were together. He was secretly pleased that Fraser didn't feel like he needed to hide behind his polite faade. He'd *really* liked the way Fraser used to really let go when they were alone, he was like nothing he'd ever seen before in his usually reserved partner.

"How'd ya day go?" Ray asked, just out of formality, wouldn't do to look even more impolite against the most polite guy in the known universe.

"Wonderful Ray, yours?" could the Mountie get any more annoying? Of course his day was crappy, people weren't supposed to *enjoy* their jobs, didn't Fraser understand that? Apparently standing like a mannequin for half the day was Fraser's idea of a grand old time. Of course, with Fraser, anything was possible. And Ray had witnessed, first hand, what some of those things were. He was extremely grateful to whatever god created Mountie's with a passion for Chicago flatfoots with experimental hair.

"Greatness Frase, just greatness,"

"I'm glad Ray," and the freaky thing was Ray believed him. That the guy who'd handcuffed him to his own bed and spanked him until his ass glowed a deep red was actually genuinely pleased that he'd had a good day at work. Freaky.

"I've jus' gotta finish dis report, den I'll be right wiv ya," Ray smiled at him as he bent down to sign another guy's name against a report he had no idea about. Nevermind.

"That's good Ray," there was something in his tone that suggested that Ray better not keep his Mountie highness too long after all, otherwise Ray may find that he wouldn't be able to physically sit down for a week. That's what happened last time Fraser was in one of his 'moods'. God, how fucked up was his life when he was actually *looking* forward to being sexually abused by his unofficial partner. Not that his own self-degradation ever stopped him, not only was he fucked up but apparently he was also easy as a five dollar a night hooker. Oh yeah, slut-Ray strikes again.

"Ok, Frase, lets go," he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair, not even daring to look at the guy in red, knowing the look of dominance and a strange mixture of Ray couldn't decide whether it was desire or disgust. Once again Ray though how desperate he'd gotten, he'd never even dug men before Fraser. But Fraser had brought it up, when he was low, real low. Ray could still remember the night; it was after the whole Beth Botrelle case, after he'd sobbed like a girl in front of Fraser. Fraser had said, why don't I keep you company tonight? Ray was flattered that someone would care enough to make sure he didn't top himself during the night, then when by the time Fraser had suggested he'd stay with him, as in *with* him, in his bed, Ray had already ingested half a good bottle of scotch, at the time it seemed normal. In the morning however, things weren't so normal, when Ray woke up with another guy's dick rubbing against his thigh. It may have been his hangover, or his depressed state but he didn't stop it, in fact slut-Ray joined right in. Could have been his own early morning hard on, or Ray could just be lying to himself, telling himself that it was all Fraser's fault. Perhaps that's what he needed to believe to keep some semblance of sanity.

The journey in the car was spent in silence, as was the norm in these situations. Fraser got decidedly untalkative when he was like this. Ray wondered what he could have possibly done to deserve his 'punishment' this time. At first he'd needed the pain, some stupid pathetic at retribution for what he'd put Beth through. He didn't know, he wasn't a psychologist, and if he were he'd probably be able to make a fortune out of himself and Fraser and their whole screwy get-up.

"Take off your clothes," Fraser ordered the moment the apartment door was closed behind them. This was normal, well normal for two screw-ups anyway. He silently stripped, he had learnt not to deny Fraser anything, and it was far easier in the long run. His clothes were quickly strewn aside, while Fraser watched in disinterest. That's what got to Ray the most, the lack of emotion, the way Ray couldn't tell what he was thinking. He didn't even believe that Fraser found him attractive anymore. He was just some fuck-toy for the Canadian, a plaything that didn't need to be wined or dined to get into bed. Ray watched as Fraser moved to pick up his discarded handcuffs from the floor. //great, I'll have to wear long sleeve tops all week//

"Bedroom Ray," what was strange was that Fraser could almost disguise his orders as requests. Freak. Ray turned and silently led the way to his bed, he stopped at the foot, felt the familiar push of Fraser's boot on his ass and tumbled facedown onto the bed boneless. Before he knew it he felt the cool metal of his cuffs against his wrists, boy could the Mountie move like he had the devil in his jodhpurs when he wanted. He pulled experimentally at the cuffs, which were, as usual, securely attached to the headboard. Ray sighed, how fucked up was this? He'd feel right at home on the Jerry Springer show.

Ray hiked up his ass, patiently waiting for the painful penetration that was inevitable, yet necessary for the 'getting rid' of the pod guy that had inhabited his partner's body. He just wanted the Mountie to hurry up and fuck him, get the fuck out of here and let him have a little snooze before the morning, when it was likely he'd call again, sometimes with the premise to release him from the cuffs, other times he didn't even try to disguise the fact that he wanted another early morning session before work. Ray didn't understand himself, he never insisted the Mountie un-cuff him, usually he was so relived that the sated Mountie was leaving that he didn't care. He'd care later in the night, when he woke up dying for a piss. He'd never forget the look of disgust on Fraser's face one morning when he'd failed to release him in time. Fraser hadn't hesitated to turn his disgust into another punishment. He'd treated him like an animal, worse than what he treated Dief when he'd ruined the carpet in the hall in the consulate. Hell, he meant less than the wolf. That was just an added slap in the face.

Ray was understandably shocked, expecting to be jammed full of prime, uncut cock and instead he felt the crack of leather leaving a stinging path over his ass checks. Ray whipped his head round in surprise, craning to see what the crazed Canadian was playing at. Sure Ray could do the whole submissive thing, that was easy, you just lie there and take it, Fraser sure seemed to enjoy it, but he wasn't so big on the whole pain thing. What the hell was sexy about pain? Ray sure didn't know.

"Fraser," he wailed as it bit into him again. The Mountie remained stoically silent, much to Ray's annoyance. Ray watched as Fraser brought his sam browne over his head again ominously. Ray closed his eyes and clenched his teeth but couldn't help the yelp that escaped as the leather connected to his sensitised skin.

Ray wasn't sure how long Fraser continued, he'd lost count a long time ago. What he did know however, was that he was going to have great difficulty even getting pants on the next day, not to mention sitting down. Ouch. Ray sighed n relief as Fraser had stopped, only to be taken by surprise, having his hips lifted on one of Fraser's strong forearms, pulled right back onto his cock, Fraser's skin felt strangely cool against his probably glowing ass. It didn't hurt too much at first, but then as Fraser neared orgasm, his thrust became even more brutal and demanding, pushing Ray up the bed until his face was pushed up against his headboard. Fraser collapsed on to of him in a sweaty heap; Ray could feel the itchy wool blend of his uniform against his back. Great he wasn't even worth getting naked for. Fraser pulled out, none too gently, causing Ray to groan in pain.

"I'll see you in the morning, Ray," Fraser promised as Ray heard him zipping up his pants. All Ray could do was grunt unintelligibly.

Ray pulled again at his cuffs, alone in the dark at last. He shifted in his own sticky mess on the mattress; apparently somewhere between the pain and mistreatment his body had thoroughly enjoyed itself. It was a shame that his brain was so preoccupied with the pain part. He'd missed it. It was going to be a long time before sleep claimed him. He couldn't find a comfortable position, between his stinging ass and sore wrists, he tossed and turned while he both dreaded and craved the next time.