Rating/Warning: Slash. Duh. R, but closer to PG-13, for adult situations.
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Disclaimer: Is it a bad thing that I'm already running out of creative ways to say I don't own Fraser and Ray? Oh, and I don't own Sting or his music--just the personal inspiration it gives me! The two songs mentioned are "If I Ever Lose My Faith" and "Fields of Gold."
Spoilers: none.
Summary: Something seems a little odd over dinner...
Notes: The sequel to "Unbelievable." I've decided to call the series "Victims of Love." So there you have it.
unbeta'd, mistakes are, as per usual, my own so blame me if it's bizarre and unusual.

Feedback is a lovely thing.

UNCONDITIONAL - June, 2000
by Ashinae

There aren't words.

"Benny?"

I can't even begin to explain how wonderful these past few months have been with Ray.

"Earth to Fraser!"

He has been everything to me, so much more than he was before I finally became bold enough to make a move. He is my world, the beginning, the end, *everything.*

"BENNY!"

I glance away from the window to see Ray standing in the kitchen doorway. "Yes, Ray?"

"Dinner's ready. Sheesh, where have you been?" He shakes his head and walks back into the kitchen, muttering to himself, as I follow along. Diefenbaker is already waiting patiently by the table as Ray pulls the left-overs from last night out of the oven.

We have been together for five months. Five glorious, incredible months. I never want our time together and our happiness to end.

The Vecchio house is unnaturally quiet. Everyone is out for the evening and Ray and I are alone together. We seldom get "alone time" in this house, and he's gone all out for me. He has a CD playing in the living room. The artist is someone by the questionable name of "Sting", and at the moment he is singing about not wanting to lose his faith.

As we eat, I watch Ray across the table. I want to talk to him about our relationship--it's something we seldom do, and whether or not he wants to admit it, there *are* issues. The biggest one being, his family has no idea. He doesn't want to tell them, and I can understand that. I really do. But it is beyond difficult to know that they have no idea that Ray and I are together.

Sometimes I have to wonder if he is ashamed of me. It pains me to think that he could be, but I am quite aware of the reactions that many people have to homosexuality. Ray himself has alluded more than once to the possible outrage this particular community may have to us. That doesn't stop the agony of keeping our relationship a secret from everyone we know.

This brings my thoughts back to the idea that he may just be ashamed of us. Of *me.* Not us--because we could have remained simply friends. It may have driven us mad, but I do believe things were easier. We only had to keep our feelings a secret from each other, not from the rest of the world, and our friends and colleagues and his family.

I could handle losing friendships and the respect of co-workers, and I sometimes think he might be able to as well. It is his family that worries me. I couldn't imagine *either* of us not having their love and support.

I want to talk to him about this. But every time I try to broach the subject, he becomes uncomfortable and quickly begins speaking about something else. Other times, he uses even more devious tactics and distracts me with--

What hurts the most, though, is the way he *still* flirts with everything that wears a skirt. It is painful beyond belief, even more so than it was before we were together--because back then we *weren't* together, and I thought I was just suffering from unrequited love. Now, he tells me and even *shows* me that he loves me, and yet the instant an attractive woman is in the picture, he flirts with her. But I can't say anything, because that would give us away and Ray would be angry with me. I tried to talk to him about this once, as well, and he just tried to reassure me that it means nothing and he does it to "cover" for us. And yet, any time a woman looks at *me* he becomes jealous. He still hates it when Francesca--when Francesca--when Francesca is just Francesca.

And yet, I continue to love him. I continue to give him my heart and my soul and my body, and I *do* think he appreciates it, but I wonder if I should love him so unconditionally. I wonder if I should press the issues that worry me so much. It's so *frustrating* to have all these doubts about us... but then he will smile at me, or touch me just *so,* or kiss me, or tell me he loves me, and I am lost to him and his warm embrace.

When that happens... Ray can do no wrong and I am his to do with as he pleases.

When *that* happens, and once I find myself alone in my apartment or at work, I berate myself for my stupidity in not wanting Ray to make some sort of advancement towards complete commitment.

He went out with someone last week. A woman. Someone from a case we were working on. Oddly enough, the case seems so much more unimportant now--to the point where even the details of it are fuzzy--simply because Ray *went out with her.* He said it was for purposes of the case... but in my mind, I see him sitting in the restaurant with her, looking his best in one of his impeccable Armani suits, laughing and talking and I see her reach out and touch his hand and I can't be there because I just ruin things and--

"Benny? You done with that?" His voice breaks into my thoughts.

"Oh. Yes, Ray, I am." He is standing by the table and he takes my empty plate and puts it in the sink. Then he comes back to the table and stretches his hand out to me.

"Come with me," he says with a grin.

"What about the dishes?" I ask. I can't believe I ask it when I do. Hmm, washing dishes or mindlessly following Ray wherever he chooses to lead me. It shouldn't be a difficult choice.

"To hell with the dishes, Benny," he says, understandably just a little irritated. "Just come with me."

"Yes, Ray," I agree and take his hand. He leads me into the living room and tells me to "stay put." I do as I am asked--what else can I do? And honestly, does he *expect* me to argue and refuse?--as Ray goes and dims the lights, closes the curtains, and skips the CD ahead a few songs. Grinning seductively, he returns to me as a slower song begins to play. I smile at him, and pull him into my arms, understanding instantly what he wants.

Now "Sting" is singing about golden fields of barley... I sigh softly and close my eyes, leaning slightly into him as he leans into me and we begin to--

I balk at calling it dancing. It was more just... swaying.

God, I love him.

No matter what he does, I love him.

"Benny." His voice is a soft caress against my ear and I shiver.

"Ray?"

His lips travel down the side of my face and he begins sucking on my neck. I moan softly and am instantly melting against him. How does he do this to me?

The song repeats itself and I sigh. I have been trying to pay attention to the lyrics... it's a lovely song, but with what Ray is doing to my neck and what his hands are now doing with various parts of my anatomy, even coherent thought is a difficult process.

There is a desperation in Ray's kisses tonight. Something unspoken, that I can't understand, as he pulls off my clothes, runs his hands over my body and soon takes me. He is hard and demanding tonight, rather than soft and gentle, but I don't utter a complaint. It is wildly exciting though somewhat confusing to be claimed in such a way. He leaves me panting, sweaty, and sated, a mass of flesh and bone and jumbled thoughts and emotions, sprawled on the couch and staring at the ceiling.

And shortly after, he drives Diefenbaker and I to my apartment and follows us upstairs. He locks my door and turns to me, looking for all the world like a hunter stalking his prey. We just *shouldn't* be ready for this again, and we aren't... yet.

God help me, I love him. He can do anything, and I love him. Always will.