He had it again. A vague, unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't have to ask himself what it was, he knew. And he hated it. What he didn't know, was where it came from. It had suddenly emerged one day, with mind-blowing force. For years, he had been able to resist it, yet every time it returned it seemed stronger. And more difficult to ignore. In the end, he had given in to it. Not able to resist the temptation anymore, not with the worst kind of temptation staring him in the face every day. Now it was like a drug, an addiction, only he couldn't get what he really wanted. The burden got heavier with every passing day. The day had been long and wet, rain pouring from the steel grey sky without pause. When Ray stepped into his car, he felt his clothes sticking to his skin. He shivered when he caught himself rehearsing the things he would say to his mother tonight. He felt so cheap, so dirty. Angrily he drove off, ignoring every traffic regulation. For one thing he was thankful. Benny had called him at the precinct, telling him he had to work late. His relief had shamed him, but it meant one less lie to tell. And if there was one thing he hated even more than lying to his mother, it was lying to his friend. Yet, he had woven this web of deceit and he knew there was no escape possible anymore.
A few hours later, he was on his way again. Every time the same route. Park his car in front of Fraser's apartment building, get out, lock the door and walk a few blocks, then try to find a cab. No way was he gonna take his car to where he wanted to go. The risk was simply too great. He noticed the trace of disgust on the cabdriver's face as he told him his destination. Noticed it and ignored it. These things didn't really get to him any more. As long as he got where he wanted, no needed to go, nothing else mattered.
He entered the bar and walked up to his usual place at the bar. He slid onto a stool and was greeted by the bartender. "Ray." He gave a short nod back. A glass of beer was placed in front of him. Taking it, he glanced around. Seemed like a slow night, the place was practically empty. Must be the rain, he thought to himself. He turned back again when suddenly he became aware of eyes that were watching him. Peeking out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure sitting at the table at the far end of the room. He couldn't see him very clearly, but he saw enough to realise this man wasn't a regular here. In fact, he had never seen him before. His breath caught in his throat as the man got op from his chair and walked towards him. No matter how often this happened, he still wasn't used to it. Not that it had happened a lot, but he did have some experience. He scoffed at the thought, experience...
The man sat himself down on the stool next to him and ordered a coffee.
"You want another?"
"Huh?" Ray started.
"Drink."
"Oh, uh....yeah." He mentally kicked himself for being so clumsy. His gaze went to the man beside him. He was older than most of the guys who came here, dark, close cropped hair, a lined face and dark brown eyes, that were now twinkling with laughter. Yet, there was something sad in them as well. A part of him wanted to run off as fast as he could, but another was fascinated. The other part won.
"You're new here," he said casually.
"I have never been in this joint, if that's what you mean," was the quiet reply. It was delivered in a raspy, gruff voice and it sent shivers up Ray's
spine. He couldn't recall being attracted to someone so fast. Well, one, but that one was an exception to every rule. He pushed the last thought to the back of his mind, tonight he didn't want to be bothered by it.
"Thought as much," he said. He had the uneasy feeling he was being studied, and he shifted a little on his stool.
"You don't strike me as a regular, either."
"Not really. I only drift in every now and again." It came out with surprising ease. For some reason , he didn't feel like hiding. His natural defence system seemed to be temporarily disabled.
"I understand." The words hit Ray with force. He looked at the man and realised that he had just met someone who *did* understand. He felt himself relaxing. A slow smile spread across his face as he extended his hand.
"I'm Ray."
Eyebrows were raised in puzzlement above the eyes that went big for a second. Then the smile was returned and his hand was taken in a firm grip. "Al."
Silence stretched on for a couple of minutes after that, as if neither man knew what to do next. Ray took a few swigs from his beer, feeling the cold liquid burning down his system.
"Look," Al said suddenly. "I don't know what your plans were tonight, but I want to get outta here. This place is depressing."
"It is. Depressing, I mean. And I didn't have any real plans." Again so easy, Ray kept on surprising himself. The surprise turned into astonishment when he heard himself asking, "Any suggestions?"
"You're the local here, you tell me." Al shrugged. Ray didn't even bother to wonder how Al knew he was a local. "Your place?"
Ray could've been mistaken, but he thought he heard a trace of hope in those words. "Not if you want the entire family looking over your shoulder," he replied.
"Ah no! Better not," Al grinned. Again no further explanation was needed. No questions, no inquiries, just simple acceptance. He jumped off the stool and grabbed Ray by the arm. "Come on."
Once outside, Al stopped and looked around. "You got a car?"
"Not here."
"We'll use mine then." Ray was dragged to a nearby car.
"Rental," Al said shortly, noticing Ray's grin when he looked at the car. "Not exactly my style." Ray's grin got broader, hearing the barely hidden disgust.
"What is your style?" he inquired, when he had seated himself in the passenger seat. He received a mischievous look and felt his cheeks heat up. "Eh...that's not what I meant!" he snapped, completely embarrassed.
Al chuckled. "I know. But my mind has taken a permanent residence in the sewer."
Despite his awkwardness Ray had to laugh. It almost sounded like something he could've said himself. "I was talking about cars, mister," he said in a stern voice.
"Yes, sir!" Al saluted. They looked at each other and burst out in laughter. "But to answer your question," Al said, when he could capture hisbreath again. "I like sports-cars. The faster the better."
"You own one?"
"Two, actually. A Chevrolet Corvette '57 that I never use, and a prototype."
"Cool," Ray replied. "I like classic cars. Have a Buick Riviera '71, myself."
"You drive a classic like that in this city?? You're nuts!"
"Probably. But I can't afford another car. Besides, I bought that car to drive it." He paused for a second. "A prototype? What kind?"
"Red, sleek and fast. A friend designed it for me. He loves playing with those things. Only designing and building, though. Where it comes to driving he has no taste at all. Owns a Jeep!"
"Yeg!" Ray shivered. "That's no car!"
"That's what I keep telling him!"
"And he doesn't listen?" Ray's thoughts involuntarily went to Fraser. Stubborn as hell were the words that flashed through his brain.
"Sam? Not in my lifetime!" Despite the gruffness of the comment, Ray could hear the affection behind it. Yet again something very familiar. Benny could drive him up the wall sometimes, but he couldn't stay away from him.
The rest of the ride was bridged in silence, a comfortable silence. It wasn't until Ray realised that they were now in the suburbs, he spoke up again.
"Where are we going?"
"I'm staying at a friends place. He's out of town. " Moments later Al pulled up the car in front of a modest house. He cut the engine and looked over at Ray. "You wanna come in?"
Temptation and common sense fought a war inside the younger man. One look in those dark, brooding eyes and he knew temptation had won. Again. "Yes."
Ray found himself back in the living room of the house. How he got there was a mystery to him. A flash of panic coursed through him and he almost bolted. Then he felt a hand running over his back, gentle and soothing. The panic evaporated immediately and he leaned back into the caress. His hand was taken and he let himself be led to the bedroom. The only sound he could utter was a whispered "No," as Al wanted to switch on the light.
His shirt was tugged out of his pants, hands sliding underneath it, teasing, tormenting. He groaned loudly as a nipple was pinched, throwing his head back. His clothes were slowly removed, dropping soundlessly to the floor. The cold air of the air-conditioning that hit his overheated flesh send goosebumps all over his body. It also cleared his mind a little. He realised that Al was still fully clothed. His hands began to undo the other man of his garments. He heard Al chuckle low at his impatience, but ignored it completely. Then he was pushed towards the bed and onto it, a warm body covering his a second later.
It was different than he had ever experienced. Fingers that were trailing over his body, setting every nerve ending on fire. He felt himself drift away on the sensations, the only thing he could do was return the caresses, as gently and soft as they were given. The pleasure built, wave after wave shooting through his system. A scream was building up in his throat, he tried to postpone the inevitable, only to discover he couldn't. He let it out, feeling his body convulse in the most powerful orgasm he ever had. It seemed to go on forever; he wanted it to go on forever. Then his muscles relaxed and he fell back on the bed, letting the softness welcome him.
He became aware of his surroundings again, finding himself sprawled on the bed, arms flung out. A smile touched his lips, for the first time since this madness started, he felt good about it. This was what he had been hoping to find, all along.
He opened his eyes, squinting against the light. He blinked, letting his eyes grow accustomed to it. Then he met a pair of other eyes, looking down at him.
"Back in the land of the living?"
"Yeah." It came out breathless. A soft chuckle followed and he turned towards the other man, reaching out with one arm to pull him closer. Every muscle responded sluggishly, his limbs seemed to weigh a ton each, but he felt wonderful. Better than he had in ages. With a deep-contented sigh he moulded himself around the smaller man. His back was stroked with long, lazy strokes. At one point the hands suddenly stopped.
"What is it?" Ray asked , drawing back a little. Al smiled, a small smile.
"Nasty scar," he answered, touching Ray's shoulder.
"Bullet wound," Ray said shortly, not wanting to talk about it.
"Thought as much. You got in the way?"
"No, well, yes I did." Al looked at him, sensing the discomfort in the younger man. This was obviously a very bad memory to him. Not that getting shot is pleasant, but he had a distinct feeling there was more to it.
"Oh God," Ray muttered softly. Only now, he had taken a good look at the man lying next to him. Numerous scars covered his chest, shoulders and upper arms.
Al sighed deeply and closed his eyes briefly. How many times had he heard this reaction before? Too many.
"Seems you get into everybody's way," Ray grinned, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Tonight he didn't want to think about those dark days, tonight he wanted to forget that.
Al's eyes snapped open in surprise, then he grinned. A feeling of relief washed over him and he pulled his bedmate close again. "I like you, ki.. Ray." he whispered in his ear. Ray shivered, getting aroused again. He pressed himself closer, wanting to touch every inch of skin. He rolled the smaller man over, pressing him into the mattress. Then he started to nuzzle his way down, his hands stroking , petting. A low, shuddering moan was his reward. He glanced up for a second and saw the desire burn in the dark eyes. Feeling bolder he went on, further down. A teasing lick on the hardening cock had the desired effect.
"Yes!" It was a gasp, a plea.
Ray hesitated for a moment. He had never done this before and he wasn't sure if he should do it at all. Then he threw all caution to the wind and engulfed the shaft with one swallow. He willed his gagging reflex down and began to suck. The blood was ringing in his ears, but he could still hear the groans of encouragement. Hips began to buck wilder and wilder, and Ray had to brace himself. Then Al let out an inarticulate cry and came into Ray's mouth. Ray swallowed with a satisfied grin. It was a salty, earthy taste and he realised he really liked it. He rested his head on Al's stomach, waiting for him to recover.
"Oh God, you're good." Al's voice was a hoarse whisper.
"Thank you," Ray replied. He was stunned for a split second when he realised he had almost added another word. He shook his head slightly, wanting to shake out every thought of that infuriating human being.
"Come here, you."
Ray obeyed gladly, sliding upwards into the waiting arms again. His erection pressed hotly against Al's leg.
"My turn," With those words he was flipped over on his back. Soon he was trashing all over the bed in sheer ecstasy. One thing was sure, this man was
no newcomer to this game. Stars exploded before his eyes, he cried out until his throat was hoarse. Then the big explosion, lightning flashes and thunderbolts all at once. Then silence, heavenly silence.
He must have drifted off, because when he opened his eyes he found himself alone. His eyes darted across the room, panic seizing him again. He heard a soft gasp from the doorway. To his relief Al was standing there, clad in a robe.
"Hi," he smiled.
"Hi, yourself," Al smiled. "You were completely out of it. I thought I'd let you sleep for a while."
"Thanks. You wore me out." Ray confessed without shame or embarrassment.
"Should I take that as a compliment?" Al asked, a teasing note in his voice.
"You bet!"
"Well, thank you." Al took the comment with an exaggerated bow. It had Ray laughing. He really liked this guy. "Hey, I've made some coffee, you want some?"
Ray pushed himself up and nodded. "Great!" He watched as Al turned and walked away. He felt sore all over, but it was a pleasant ache. He got off the bed and dressed himself quickly. He was almost sorry to leave, but he knew it couldn't be any other way. At least he had a night to remember.
When he got down, the smell of coffee wafted towards him. It made his stomach rumble and he wished he had taken the time to eat a proper meal. The kitchen was small, yet cosy. He sat himself down at the table and took the mug that was sitting there. The liquid was hot and tasted very good.
Al sat himself opposite him, holding a mug between his hands. For a moment they just looked at each other, smiling.
"I...eh...I had a real good time," Ray said finally. "I never knew it could be like this."
Al's smile got deeper, understanding. "You haven't done this much, have you?"
"No, and never like this. Quick lays in dirty motel rooms and..."
Al raised his hand to stop him. "I know what it's like, Ray. You don't have to explain. I've been there. Nowadays, when I get the chance, I prefer it like this. And not with any guy."
Ray took the compliment in silence, feeling flattered. "You never met someone special?"
"Special?"
"Yeah, you know, special, someone right for you."
A wistful look crossed Al's features. "I wish I had."
"Me too."
They drank their coffee in silence. When Ray had finished it he rose from his chair. "I've gotta go now."
Al nodded and got to his feet.
Ray walked to the living room, Al following him. Then he turned, and handed him a small card. "My phone-number. Maybe when you get into town again..." He took a deep breath and continued, "It's my private number, a cell-phone."
Al took the card and looked at it. "Are you sure about this? You hardly know me."
"I know you well enough to trust you." Ray amazed himself by doing this. Yet, he felt he could do it. He did trust this man. He hesitated for another moment, then turned back and stalked out.
As he walked swiftly through the empty streets, his mind was still with the man he left behind. He knew Al lied to him. There was someone special in his life. Why else had he moaned that name during their lovemaking? Not his name. Sam.
Al stared after the retreating figure. He knew Ray had lied to him. There was someone special in his life. Why else had he yelled out that name? Not his name. Benny.
He had it again. A vague, unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't have to ask himself what it was, he knew. And he hated it. Hated it because he knew precisely where it came from, knew precisely who and what was to blame for this feeling. Knew it and hated it. Hated it especially since he was here, so far from what... whom he wanted.
*Damn!* He hit the wheel of his rental car hard. Why did he have to be stuck here in Chicago when he should be back home, where he was needed? One of these days Weitzman would push his little games a little too far and he would snap, just like that. He couldn't though. He'd promised the kid to keep his cool, one more promise that he intended to keep no matter what.
He let his mind drift, calming on the thought that he'd be on a plane back tomorrow. Only a few more hours and he'd be back where he belonged, where he mattered to someone. Where he could look into sparkling green eyes and know that there was some one in the world who cared for him, who thought he was special. The knowledge made him feel all warm inside. Yeah, that was it. Someone who thought he was special.
That vague, unsettling feeling slammed into him with full force now. Damn inconvenient time, he thought, but at least the place wasn't. Far from home, in a city where no one knew him, there'd be no worries about running into someone he knew, someone who might recognise him and jeopardise his career or the project.
He knew exactly what he was looking for too. No matter which city, or
which country for that matter, places like this looked the same the world over. He would have recognised this one blindfolded. Before he'd really made up his mind even, he'd parked the car, stepped out and locked the door behind him. Rental car or not, this was Chicago and he wanted to find his car still parked here when he returned.
The place had a nice feel about it, but it wasn't very crowded. A few people at the bar, a few at scattered tables with their heads close together in a whispered conversation, but that was it. Slow night apparently. He didn't mind, actually he preferred it that way. With any luck nobody would walk through that door who he would find remotely interesting, taking away the danger of what he was about to do. With any luck, someone interesting actually might.
Nursing his third cup of coffee half an hour later he was about to give up. Maybe he'd picked the wrong joint tonight, but the patrons of this establishment weren't exactly his cup of tea. Ten minutes ago a young man had sat down at his table, asking if he wanted to buy him a drink. He hadn't exactly told the young man to take a hike, but his body language had said it all. This wasn't what he'd had in mind. A quick romp in the sack, no names, no questions asked. He may have fallen low, but not that low yet.
The door swung open, letting a soft evening breeze in and a tall, very thin young man. There was something about the elegance, the grace of his walk that immediately caught his eye. Tall, a gorgeous brown coat slung across his shoulders, he appeared somewhere in his thirties, maybe around Sam's age. He was definitely as tall as Sam, maybe even a tiny bit taller. For the rest he couldn't be further removed from Sam if he tried. Skinny, a sharp beaky profile that you couldn't call handsome no matter how hard you tried, and hair that was so badly thinning that he'd settled for a very short-shaven peach fuzz. It suited him, he had to admit.
The object of his scrutiny had opted for a stool at the bar instead of a table and ordered a beer. Something about the shoulders, the way they seemed to slump, as if he was about to up and run away at any second, peeked his attention even further. This guy didn't want to be here any more than he did, he realised with a fascinated shock. The close-cropped head was turned in his direction, ever so slightly, obviously sensing the other man's observation. His head turned towards him like this, he noticed another similarity with Sam, one that made him smile affectionately. He'd never tease Sam about his nose again.
There was no need to keep this game up, he realised. His interest was peeked. Might as well make the most of it. As he got up from his chair and walked closer, he noticed the other man tensing up, a slight straightening of thin shoulders under a heavy coat. More than ever Al got the impression that he just wanted to get the hell out of there, but just like Al he knew that he couldn't. With as much nonchalance as he could muster, he slid down on the stool next to him and ordered another coffee.
"You want another?" he asked casually.
A startled head shot in his direction, huge eyes staring at Al. Those eyes. They were mesmerising. And *exactly* the same colour as Sam's!
"Huh?"
"Drink" Al clarified, an amused smile forming on his lips. This kid didn't look nervous, he looked flat out terrified. He could sympathise with that feeling, knew what it felt like, had experienced it countless times himself.
"Oh, uh... yeah."
Al saw the inner battle the kid was waging. The clear green eyes were studying him, while he fought between the terror of staying and the terror of going and maybe never knowing what might have been. The smile that slowly spread across the younger man's face told Al which part had won the battle, a curving of the generous mouth that so lit up his face that it almost looked handsome.
"You're new here," he said, trying to sound casual, but still unable to hide the slight tremor in his voice. The battle wasn't completely won yet, Al realised.
"I have never been in this joint, if that's what you mean," he replied quickly. He knew there was no danger of being recognised here, but still his reputation sometimes tended to precede him. This wouldn't be the first time that someone recognised him from TV or a magazine.
"Thought as much," the other man said as he reached for his beer and took a nervous sip.
Something in his words rang a bell inside Al's head. The kid was too jumpy for someone who was accustomed to hanging around in this kind of joints. It wouldn't surprise him one bit that he didn't come to places like these any more than he did. Maybe once in a while, when the need became too much, when the thought of *him* sent every fibre in his body into a roaring fire. When he saw the kid shift uncomfortably in his seat, Al realised with
a shock that he'd been staring at him. The knowledge unnerved him. He couldn't remember ever falling for some one so quickly, except maybe *him* but then *he* was the exception to every rule. Before he knew what had hit him, the two of them were on the pavement outside, Al leading the younger man who had introduced himself as Ray to his rented car.
They were talking while driving, about classic cars or something? Buick Riviera?, Al thought amused. At least the kid had good taste in more than just clothes. [And men, eh, Lise?! They both do, Agnes!] Too bad he wasn't more into tight jeans like... No, he would stop thinking about Sam for a change.
"Sam? Not in my lifetime!" he heard himself say. Damn! Couldn't he stop thinking about him for just one night at least?
"Yeah!", a voice spoke softly next to him, "The times I've told Benny to move out of that flee-trap, but does he listen?"
A gigantic lightbulb flashed inside Al's head. *So your Sam is Benny, huh kid?* Al thought sombrely. *Then why the hell are you sitting here with me instead of him? At least I'm far away from home. I have an excuse.* His shoulders sagged in defeat. No, he didn't. He'd known Sam for more than ten years now, worked with him, fought with him, shared his hopes and dreams with him, and loved him with all his heart. In all of those ten years, he'd never worked up the courage to tell him that the thought of him drove him crazy. He glanced briefly at the profile of the man next to him. *That your story too, kid?* he thought with a sudden burst of understanding and sympathy. *Terrified of being laughed at, or worse even, being rejected? Rather live with this ache and need than lose *his* love and respect forever? 'Cause that would be *unbearable*, wouldn't it? Anything is better than *that*. Even *this*.*
The car stopped in front of the house of an old pilot-buddy and his family, who had generously offered Al a place to stay while they were out of town for a couple of weeks. He opened the door and stepped aside to let Ray enter, noticing the nervous edginess in the younger man. He wondered briefly if he'd made the right decision and just as his eyes met the round, green, mesmerising depths of the other man, he recognised the same reluctance. They could still turn back. It was not too late yet. A soft, hesitant smile, answered by an equally soft, hesitant smile.
"Let me take your coat," Al finally managed to say, pleased when Ray smiled briefly and shrugged out of his heavy coat, handing it to Al almost shyly. Hanging Ray's coat and his own away, gave Al a moment to collect himself and by the time he returned to find the tall, young man standing awkwardly in the middle of the large living-room, he'd made up his mind. And he was *not* going to regret it or feel guilty.
Unnoticed by the man looking around the room, Al stood in the doorway for a moment and drank in the sight. He was thin, but the loose fitting suit he wore under his coat hid a lot. It was almost as if the kid was trying to make himself invisible to the world. Probably extremely self-conscious about his looks, Al guessed, and probably this Benny of his was Mr. Universe himself. He needn't be shy though, Al thought amused. He had a very nice, elegant body and that pert butt of his was almost as cute as Sam's. Not quite, but almost. Sam's was fuller, rounder...
Almost unconsciously he found himself walking closer and before he knew what he was planning to do, he found his hand on the warm, firm, slender back. It wasn't even a caress, just a warm touch of a hand, but he could feel the reaction in the younger man's body, could feel it in his own, as he circled the elegant figure to stand in front of him, his hand never leaving it's place. They were facing each other now; bewildered green eyes meeting sensual dark ones, Al's arm loosely around the narrow waist the only physical presence between them.
"I...", Ray started, but Al cut him off.
"Sshh," he whispered. "Let me."
Hands disappeared under expensive material, caressed slender shoulders, slid the jacket off them and onto the ground in one smooth movement. The most elegant neck he'd ever seen presented itself before his eyes now and wondering how it might taste, he nuzzled it briefly, listening with amused satisfaction to the soft murmur of appreciation it elicited. The head against his tilted slightly, and next he was aware of the sensation of lips against his temple, down his cheek, on his lips. Pleasure shot through him like electricity as that full, generous mouth opened beneath his, allowing access into that wondrous haven. He had to reach up to kiss him, he noticed distractedly. He'd have to reach up to kiss Sam too! The thought sobered him and he broke the kiss rapidly, chiding himself for letting Sam sneak into his thoughts while he was here with Ray. *Go away, Sam. Go away*, he
told the image inside his head, as he stared gasping into eyes the exact same shade of green as Sam's. There was only one way to get the image to go away. He grabbed Ray's hand boldly and led him out of the room.
The tall, handsome man and the shorter, older man looked like the mismatch of the century, walking together like that through the large building, but that only went to show that sometimes appearances could be deceiving. Because in truth, these two had found everything they would ever need in each other.
Al sighed happily as he lead his lover from one display to another, marvelling at the warmth and affection in the younger man's presence. The hell called Leaping which had taken five years was finally truly behind them. Sam was finally back home, where he belonged, with the people he loved and who loved him. During their five-year-hell, Al had made a vow to himself that, if Sam ever made his way home alive, he would reveal the truth, tell him how he felt about him. There was one thing he hadn't counted on.
The bond between them, which he never would have believed could get any stronger, had gained a whole new meaning while Leaping, when they couldn't even so much as touch, and eyes and words were all they had between them. When Sam finally had returned, Al hadn't even needed to tell him anything. It was like some sort of telepathic connection had formed between them, every single thought Sam thought his and vice versa. And the most startling revelation of all was that Sam had felt the same about him, had *always* felt the same, but just like Al had been too scared of rejection to do anything about it.
The only thing that now sometimes put a damper on their happiness was the realisation of all the time they'd wasted, time that could have been spent loving each other. At those times they just clung to each other, and made up for all the time they'd lost.
"Hey Bingo!" a voice called out to him, and looking up, Al found himself staring at Sam, leaning against a beautiful black Corvette, a grin on his lips which was about to split his face. "Isn't this your car, Ensign Calavicci?"
Al grinned back amused, closing the distance between them and lingering a gentle caress across the smooth surface of the car, a caress that ended on his lover's hip. He'd been forced to give up his own baby some time ago, but he had never regretted it. He never regretted anything he did for Sam.
"Sure looks a lot like her!" he mumbled softly.
"Her!" Sam exclaimed with mock annoyance. "You sailors are all alike!" Before Al could dignify that with an answer, Sam grabbed his hand and dragged him along to the next display. Al shook his head at so much boyish enthusiasm. Not that he wasn't enjoying the carshow Sam had brought them to, but ever since Sam had returned from Leaping he seemed to be filled with more energy than Al knew what to do with... which wasn't always a bad thing, he thought with a lecherous smile.
"Wow, look at this beauty!" Sam offered in awed admiration, but all Al could do was stare in shocked surprise. The car *was* a beauty, a Buick Riviera, as sleek and elegant as *he* was, as green and mesmerising as those eyes. He hadn't thought about *him* in years...
The tall, handsome man and the slightly taller, skinnier man looked like the mismatch of the century, walking together like that through the large building, but that only went to show that sometimes appearances could be deceiving. Because in truth, these two had found everything they would ever need in each other.
Ray sighed happily as he lead his lover from one display to another, marvelling in the warmth and affection of the other man's presence. Strange, but the most devastating experience in both their lives had brought them together in a way that had seemed quite impossible before. An assignment, dangerous and top secret, national security, had sent Ray deep undercover, away from Chicago and the man who owned his heart and soul. It was the chance of a lifetime career-wise, and reasoning that absence made the heart grow fonder, Ray had accepted the challenge, but only when Benny himself had insisted that it would be totally crazy not to.
He'd hoped that Benny would miss him as much as he would miss Benny, and maybe come to realise that there was so much more than just friendship between them. When reports from Frannie (who'd found herself a job at the precinct, which was one good reason not to return in a hurry) reached him about a new man in Fraser's life, someone who of all things worked at the precinct, and how close he and Fraser were becoming, Ray had finally come to terms with the truth. That to Fraser he'd never been more than a good friend, a friend who could be replaced just like *that*. He'd been foolish to think otherwise, and with a heart broken into a zillion pieces, he
finally accepted that he'd lost Benny, that was if you could lose something you'd never had.
And then he'd returned six months later, heartbroken, but resigned; happy to see Benny again, but *never* again expecting anything more. Fraser was out with Kowalski, Elaine had informed him, a sad look on her sweet face. He'd chatted with her a while then, caught up with Huey and Dewey (Welsh'd had to be kidding when he paired those two!), when the door had opened and Fraser had walked in, laughing at something Kowalski'd said, and looking more gorgeous and happier than any man had a right to be. Ray'd been sure he was over Benny and yet he'd felt his heart breaking all over again.
He'd tried to get away in time, but it was too late, Fraser had seen him. The smile had frozen on that lovely face, the colour suddenly sickly white against the red uniform, but (and Ray would never forget this no matter how long he lived) those bright, blue eyes had lit up like a christmas tree. Ray'd felt something soft and furry against his leg, but he couldn't be bothered with Dief saying hello, captured by the overwhelming emotions flooding those blue eyes. Was that guy staring from one to the other like they'd gained an extra head Kowalski? And did anyone care? [authors' note : NOT US!!]
"You're back!" a soft voice had finally murmured and all Ray had been able to do was nod.
What happened next was still a blur in Ray's mind. He'd felt a hand close around his arm in an iron grip and the next moment he'd been dragged through the door, down the corridor, shoved into a closet, the door slamming shut behind them. Before he could recover, Benny had grabbed him and slammed him against the wall, hands tearing, grabbing, caressing, pulling at him, a hot urgent body pressing him hard against the wall. Ray'd been too stunned to do anything but hold on tight for dear life and hang on for the ride. Benny had kissed him urgently, hungrily, needy, the wantonness and need of his desire almost too much for them both. He'd finally let go of Ray's mouth to start kissing every inch on his face, murmuring "Missed you. Love you." over and over, one blurring into another until it sounded like "Muv you".
They'd climaxed there and then, too overcome by the need and frenzy of it all, too caught up in each other and the sudden realisations to notice or care where they were. They'd stayed in that closet for the longest time, simply basking in the other's presence, just being together and feeling whole again after an eternity of emptiness. Elaine had told him later that when Welsh needed a roll of toilet paper right then, he'd sent Elaine out for some rather than disturb the two in the closet. It was the sweetest, and the most embarrassing thing Ray had ever heard.
As for Kowalski, in the end he'd become a good friend of them both and now that he and Frannie were happily married [authors' note : punishment enough for coming between Benny and Ray if you ask us!], Ray couldn't comprehend how he'd ever felt jealous or threatened by the guy.
"Hey, Curly!" a voice called out, and Ray sighed at the stupid nickname Benny had found for him. It was a private joke, since Ray hardly had any hair left at all, let alone any curls. When he looked up, his jaw dropped at the sight. He couldn't decide which was more spectacular. The green, streamlined car, or the grinning-his-ass-off vision in jeans and leather leaning against it. "It's the Riv!" Benny added quite unnecessarily.
"Geez, Benny!", Ray groaned, as he came closer. "Are you gonna make me blow this one up too, like you did with the other *three*?"
"The second one wasn't *my* fault," Fraser pouted, as the grin vanished from his face.
Quite unselfconsciously, he trailed a tender hand across Benny's face, the sparkle in his eyes saying more than any words could. "You know I'd blow up anything for you!" he said ever so softly.
The grin returned, blue eyes transmitting the same message back, but before Ray could get anything else said, Benny grabbed his hand and dragged him along the narrow corridor. He was mumbling something, but Ray wasn't quite sure he'd heard right. It sounded an awful lot like "Whoever owns this car, I'm gonna buy it off him!"
"But you can't afford it!" Ray protested weakly.
"You couldn't afford to bail me out of prison either!" Fraser shot back as an argument. "Besides, see it as a wedding present!"
Ray stopped in his tracks, forcing the man holding his hand to a dead stop as well. "Benny?" he whispered, almost afraid to ask. The head turned slowly towards him, blue eyes sparkling like diamonds, the most loving smile Ray had ever seen on that sensual mouth. "Are you serious?"
A slow nod of the head, a gentle step towards him, then there was no more distance between them. "If you'll have me!"
"If I'll...?" Ray repeated mesmerised. "Are you *nuts*?"
Another nod of the head, a dazzling grin now. "About you!"
He didn't care who saw them. Ray just threw his arms around Benny's neck and pressed his lips against his, his heart bursting with all the love he felt for this man. His soul was souring as he walked next to Benny, not really caring whether they found whoever owned the Riv or not. Nothing and no one could take this moment away from him.
A sight caught him from the corner of his eye. Wasn't that a '57 Corvette? Didn't he know someone who owned a '57 Corvette? The car was a beauty, as compact and classy as *he* was, as black and mysterious as those eyes. He hadn't thought about *him* in years...
Al was still staring at the green Buick Riviera, not even noticing when a short, fat man joined the two of them.
"Ah, Doctor Beckett, there you are!" he said, his voice loud and booming. "I've been looking all over the exhibition for you! It's settled!"
"Perfect!" he heard Sam reply, which made him look up at his lover inquiringly.
"What is?" he asked suspiciously, when he saw the broad, pleased grin on his lover's face.
"The black Corvette," the short man replied. "Doctor Beckett just purchased it."
Al's eyes snapped up at Sam. "Tell me you're kidding, please!"
"Nope!" was the smug reply. "Bingo isn't complete without his Corvette. The one he never should have sold just to get my ass outta the fire!"
"Oh Sam!" Al muttered, touched by the generous offer despite everything. Of course, since the roaring success of Project Quantum Leap, and more offers to replicate Ziggy than they could possibly fulfil (not that they ever would), financial matters were the least of their worries. If he had his way, he'd just throw caution to the wind and give into his feelings right here and now, but it wasn't up to him, and Sam's name was too famous to risk his reputation. His eyes snapped open in surprise when Sam actually leaned down and kissed him gently, but fully on the lips.
"I love you, Bingo," he whispered, his voice raspy with emotion. "Don't ever forget that."
How could he ever? Not with this wondrous man here to keep reminding him. "Love you too," he whispered softly and overcome with emotion. Yet there was something else nagging at the back of his mind as his eyes focused again on the car in front of him.
Ray turned away from the black 1957 Corvette he had been staring at, and stared at the sight in front of him.
Al turned away from the green 1971 Riviera he had been staring at, and stared at the sight in front of him.
This couldn't be coincidence.
This couldn't be coincidence.
The man he'd just been thinking about was standing a few yards away, staring back at him, a tall, handsome stranger in jeans and leather watching him intently.
The man he'd just been thinking about was standing a few yards away, staring back at him, a tall, handsome stranger in jeans and leather watching him intently.
"Ray?"
"Al?"
"Sorry, sweetheart, I thought I saw someone I used to know... I was mistaken."
Two figures turned towards their respective partners at the same time, trying to calm down their racing hearts and trying very hard to convince themselves that it was just coincidence.
Ray Vecchio grinned at Ben Fraser, took his hand and walked off blissfully.
Al Calavicci grinned at Sam Beckett, took his hand and walked off blissfully.
At exactly the same time, two heads turned around, green sparkling eyes meeting dark sparkling eyes, and the message read there was exactly the same.
And now back to our regular Benny/Ray program! ;-) Lisa and Agnes