Sun, Sea and ...   

Disclaimer: Not mine, no money, don't bother 

Rating: NC-17 (gettin' better at this, can even type it without blushin'
now!) 

Pairing/Warning: BF/RK 

Author's Notes: This was written in response to a challenge on the Serge
mailing list - the ending is because I happen to 'work' in one ... hehe,
you'll have to read the story for that to make sense. 

For Sylvie, because she asked. 

And for Kerrie, my real life Muse and Callum convert, because this is *so*
what we'd do *L* 

Many apologies to Genie, who is *still* waiting for her sequel - blame
Ray, he's not playing nicely with anyone but Fraser at the moment. Pay and
pay and pay - it's not buddies, Ray. Yeah, I watch a lot of TV. What of
it? 

Feedback: Hell, yeah. Bitch to yer hearts content to wylt@hotmail.com
  

Sun, Sea and Surf (c) Wylt, February 2000. 

   

Fraser stood, uncertainly gazing at his surroundings. The sand beneath his
feet was warm, spreading between his toes and around the sole of his foot
like a large hand caressing him. Behind him, stretching into the distance,
were trees, bright with greenery. Opposite him, the cool water of a tiny
rock pool cradled amongst huge rocks and pools of golden sand twinkled
alluringly. Not, however, as alluring as the man lying next to him. 

Ray smiled up at him in a mixture of irritation and affection, relaxed and
boneless. His blonde hair, neatly spiked into an artful dishevelled mass,
gleamed in the bright light. A layer of glistening sweat covered his lean,
long body, accentuating ropy muscles. Dark glasses hid eyes the colour of
a warm summer day's sky, light glinting off the lenses. 

"Are you sure this is alright, Ray?" 

"It's fine, Frase. Will you just relax?" The Detective shifted slightly,
the skimpy black speedos that were his only concession to clothing
concealing nothing. Swallowing nervously, still darting quick agitated
looks around their immediate vicinity, Fraser took the graceful, long
fingered hand held out to him in invitation and sank to his knees onto the
beach towel spread next to Ray's matching and suitably garishly coloured
one. 

"You're certain there's no one else here?" 

Ray sighed. "Ben," he explained patiently, for the umpteenth time. "We
have the place to ourselves, let's just enjoy it. Okay?" 

Briefly hesitating, the Mountie finally surrendered, seating himself next
to his lover. Reaching over, Ben removed Ray's sunglasses, smiling into
the other man's eyes. 

"Did you bring anything in the form of entertainment, Ray? A book, a deck
of cards ..?" The dark haired man trailed off as Ray's expression shifted
from one of happiness and relaxation to pure mischieviousness and desire. 

"Only myself, Frase." 

"Good." Murmured the Mountie in satisfaction, before rolling over to press
his lips to the seductive sweep of his lover's mouth. Delving, tasting,
rediscovering; it never failed to surprise him: the overwhelming emotion
he felt at the touch of Ray's lips, hands and body against his skin. 

Groaning, Ray slipped his hands over Ben's shoulders, before progressing
southwards to cup the tight ass offered him, pulling him close. The
cut-off denim shorts Fraser wore suddenly felt painfully tight, but the
sensation of Ray's hands, running across the bare skin of his back,
threatened to overwhelm the discomfort. Long fingers kneaded, moulded and
teased as they explored his body. 

Their kiss, an intensely passionate duel of hungry tongues and heady need,
broke under the necessity of breathing. Ben arched, moaning, as Ray's
mouth migrated along his jaw to trail down his chest. Capturing a nipple,
the blonde licked lightly around the dark sienna aureole and then
whispered his lover's name across the damp patch of skin to watch in
delight as it pebbled instantly. Turning to the other, he lavished
attention to the sensitive area as he suckled gently, flicking the tip of
his tongue across the hard nubbin. 

"Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray." Fraser's voice was breathless, each word couched as
a moan. The classically handsome face was flushed with passion and heat,
deep blue eyes glazing as Ray's mouth continued to wander. Long sweeps of
his lover's tongue explored every rise and fold of skin over sculpted
muscle, traced the ridges of his ribs whilst drifting ever downwards to
nuzzle at his cock through the thick denim of his shorts. 

The scent that was part arousal and part Fraser's unique smell weaved
through Ray's senses with each deep breath, leaving him light headed and
panting. Teasing, he ran his tongue along the skin of his lover's firm
thighs, just below the cut off line of his long shorts. Ben shuddered,
whimpering in need as Ray's hands slipped beneath the denim to cup the
bare skin of his ass. 

Taking pity, the blonde flicked open the button to his shorts and gently
pulled the zipper down to free his aching, swollen cock that gleamed in
the bright light. His own arousal leaped at the sight and he squirmed
against the beach towel. Slipping one hand into the open fly, long fingers
closed around the shaft to slide upwards with a twist of his palm.
Fraser's body heaved beneath him, involuntarily moaning in protest as Ray
removed his hand. 

"Please." 

The Detective leaned up, capturing the other man's lips as he dragged the
denim shorts down strong legs where they were kicked impatiently off to
land at the edge of the rock pool. Heat rose to twine about them, hips
thrusting to rub twin mounds of hardness together as their passion grew. 

Ray sat up to strip off his speedos, negligently throwing them over his
shoulder, before returning to his lover's embrace. Rolling them over, he
spread his legs to make room for Fraser, wrapping himself around the
broader, bigger body above him. Bubbles of sweat covered their bodies from
the heat of their environment and their passion, mixing with the precum
weeping from their aching erections. Slipping and sliding across Ray's
stomach, Ben thrust against the hard body beneath him. Throwing his head
back at the building sensations, he caught his lower lip between his teeth
in an effort to keep a modicum of control. 

Ray's hand pressed against the back of his neck pulled his mouth into
reach, teasing his lower lip from the tight grasp of his teeth. The blonde
licked gently across the swollen skin, soothing the feel of his own bite
before latching onto his mouth, suckling. Ravenous hands skimmed
restlessly over undulating bodies as their passion reached fever pitch,
each frantically struggling to achieve fulfilment whilst striving to make
the moment last forever. Gasping, hips clashing hard enough to bruise,
they shuddered, straining, yearning. With a sharp cry, Ray's back arched
improbably high, freezing as his climax swept through his body,
overwhelming his senses to leave him twitching and panting as waves of
ecstasy rolled through him.  

Fraser moaned, eyes closing, at almost the same moment and what little
space there was between their bodies was filled with spurting jets of warm
semen covering glistening skin. Sinking down with a sigh of contentment,
he placed a tender kiss to Ray's hairline, the tip of his perfect nose
before finally meeting his lover's trembling lips. 

Happy, satiated and incredibly warm, Fraser curled himself around Ray's
body, cradling him against his chest. The blonde sleepily pulled the hand
resting possessively over his hip to place a soft kiss against the
sensitive skin of his wrist. 

"Love you." He murmured, eyes closing against his will, even in the
brilliant light. 

"And I, you." Pressing his nose to the back of the other man's neck,
Fraser drifted into sleep with the scent of Ray all around him.  

***  

A young woman, hair the colour of the sand glistening below her, fanned
her red face, frantically trying to cool down. Next to her, a soft
embarrassed cough reminded her she was not alone and she turned to grin
ruefully at the dark haired woman with her. 

"Wow." 

"Hell, yeah."  

"Wow." 

Squirrel had collapsed back against the alcove wall of the large window
overlooking the studio as soon as things had started heating up between
the two lovers, melting into the concrete. Neither of them had had the
willpower to tear their envious gaze from the intimate demonstration of
love before their eyes. 

Kerrie pushed a strand of blonde hair from her eyes, looking up to meet a
distinctly mischievous brown gaze. 

"Remind me to find out who lent them the studio and give 'em a big kiss,
will ya?" 

They turned to peer through the myriad of lights hanging from the rails
along the ceiling, ignoring the cameras pushed to one end of the studio
with the ease of people long accustomed to working with the damned heavy
things. 

The set, a tropical oasis, spread across the huge room to meet a backdrop
of trees and blue, blue sky sprawled beneath them. The two men, sound
asleep now, were curled near the centre of the room. 

Squirrel turned, suddenly, to stare in apprehension at her friend. 

"You *did* remember to turn off the cameras, right?" 

A soft giggle struggled free of tightly compressed lips, a smile bubbling
up despite Kerrie's best attempts to stop it. 

"I'm afraid I wasn't really sure how to, they're all on Iso." 

Squirrel stared at her, guilt warring with amusement. Kerrie's lips
twitched, setting the pair off into another fit of hysterical giggling. 

"Oh well," Squirrel shrugged philosophically. "I need the editing
practice." 

Below them, the Cop sighed in his sleep, a faint smile crossing his lips
as the Mountie's embrace tightened unconsciously to hold him near. 

finis 

   

Note:	Iso means (in the UK anyway) that each camera used on a particular
shoot has its own recorder as well as transmitting to a mixing desk where
a Director will call shots, such as cut to camera 3, cut to Camera 5, etc.
What it means is, if you have 4 cameras filming, you get 5 tapes of the
shoot; one from each camera and one that's a mixture of all four together.
This can then be edited into a watchable programme ... hehe. Of course I
wouldn't *actually* record people having sex in a studio, ogle for a while
maybe, but not record - anyway, I'm told it's against Health & Safety
rules for people to be shagging in a studio *L*