First Base	Okay -- this is my first story, and there are a few of
things to mention: 

1. The story started out as a PWP (stop me if any of this sounds
familiar...) and just grew and 
grew.  Either epic or grossly (ewwh) overwritten may come to mind -- just
live with it, okay? Of 
course its length may have had something to do with the rather severe
academic writer's block I 
was suffering from this summer... or not. 

2. Huge debts of gratitude to my sweetie, Wendy, who egged me on,
sustained me with cups of 
tea, and provided ongoing ... ah... inspiration and computer support. This
story is dedicated to 
remembering the weekend of September 21-23 1984. Love you, girl. 

3. Also major debts of gratitude to all the wonderful people who write DS
slash, especially 
Elaine, Mitch and Tmar. Kiss kiss all. 

4. Usual disclaimer -- they aren't mine (but oh, don't I *wish* they
were!); I'm not making a 
cent off of this; no copyright infringement intended; it is not to appear
in any form without my 
name attached. 

5. Serious graphic sex warning -- NC (does this stand for No Clothes?) 17 

6. Minor sap and angst warning. 

7. Curling warning (Wendy insists.) 

Enjoy 

neon 
  First Baseby 
neon blue 

"Ray?" 

"Yeah Benny." Ray didn't even try to drag his eyes away from the
television set on which he 
was watching the White Sox. 

Ben slid his eyes sideways and studied Ray's profile. He allowed his eyes
to linger briefly before 
he too resumed watching the ball game.  They were sitting together on the
couch in the Vecchio 
living room watching television and eating pizza. The other members of
Ray's family were 
spending the weekend at a cottage on Lake Michigan whichTony had, through
means best not 
gone into in front of law enforcement officers regardless of jurisdiction,
acquired the use of.  Ben 
was not at all sorry that Ray had decided that he needed to remain in
Chicago. The chance to 
spend quiet time with Ray was always welcome, and Ben felt that what he
needed to do would 
be best accomplished with as few distractions as possible around.  And God
knew, the Vecchio 
family was nothing if not distracting. He waited, and just as he was
wondering if he was going to 
have to wait until the game broke for commercials, Ray briefly looked at
him and asked, just a 
little exasperatedly, "So ... Ray what, Benny?" 

Ben paused again, as he knew that the careful orchestration of the
conversation required 
impeccable timing.  He finally allowed himself to move a verbal pawn into
position. "Well..." 

Ray sat back as the commercials came on and muted the television.  He
looked at Ben with just 
the tiniest trace of aggravation on his face. Ben bent forward and
rummaged around in the pizza 
box, partly because he knew that that would up the tension just a little,
and partly because he felt 
that he needed to be doing something with his hands. Just as he heard Ray
draw in a breath 
which he knew from experience would presage a verbal outburst, he counter
attacked. "Would 
you like another piece of pizza Ray?" 

He let the question linger in the air, accompanied by a gently cocked
eyebrow and a look which 
was as ingenuous as possible.  Ray shook his head impatiently, "Naw, it's
too hot to eat," and, 
just as Ben knew he would, returned to the question hanging in the air.
"So... well what, Benny? 
 Cos, you know, I'm not fooled by this pizza thing.  What's on your mind,
huh?" 

All in good time Ray, Ben thought to himself, all in good time.  He looked
back at Ray, who had 
settled into an  interrogate Benny' posture: arms crossed in front of him,
eyes wary. If he were a 
horse, Ben thought, his ears would be back and his tail would be starting
to swish. Other 
thoughts of Ray with equine connotations suddenly rose unbidden in Ben's
mind and he started 
to feel quite warm.  The faintest trace of sweat broke out along his upper
lip and he licked it and 
put the soggy pizza back into the box.  "Yes, it is quite warm in here,
Ray," he said, sitting back 
carefully on the couch. 

"Jeez, Benny, I just hate it when you do that, you know?" Ray said
irritably. 

Here we go, Ben thought with inward satisfaction, and said "What Ray?" 

"Oh no you don't. You don't do that, that,   What Ray?' like you don't
know that that drives me 
crazy.  I am talking about that habit of yours of starting to ask me
something and then stopping, 
or changing the subject or launching into a damn Inuit story, or what
ever. Just come to the damn 
point Benny!" Ray glared at him. 

"Understood." Ben smiled to himself and noted that Ray had not even turned
the sound back on, 
even though the commercials were over.  He inclined his head slightly
toward the TV and Ray 
glanced over at it, and immediately fumbled with the remote. "See? See?
Look what you made 
me do now?" 

"Well Ray, it doesn't seem to matter anyway.  Nothing ever seems to happen
in this game.  I 
mean, sure, every once in a while someone throws the ball or tries to hit
it with the bat, but most 
of the time it's just boring. And the athletes themselves, well some of
them look very unfit." 
Ray looked at him sharply and then returned to watching the game, where
the White Sox were 
locked in a scoreless draw.  Ben waited, knowing that Ray would be unable
to resist the bait. 

"It's not boring when you know what to look for, Benny.  It ain't
basketball or football, but ya 
know, it ain't hockey either.  Baseball's America's game, Benny. 
Everybody plays it, and 
everybody can, ya know? At least it ain't a bunch of guys in padded pants
beating on each other 
with sticks. Strange, ain't it.  You Canadians are so damned polite, but
*your* national sport is 
just one step up from  Challenge of the Gladiators'." 

"Well, that's not exactly true Ray.  Not only are you misrepresenting the
essence of the sport of 
hockey, but it isn't Canada's national sport.  I mean, that *is* a popular
misconception, 
exacerbated in no small degree by the CBC hockey broadcast "Hockey Night
in Canada", but no, 
our official national sport is lacrosse. Of course, there are some who
argue that our national sport 
should be curling, but they are, I think, in a minority. Not that there is
anything wrong with 
having curling..." 

"Curling?  Curling? What is *curling*?  Something you do with your hair?"
Ray looked over at 
Ben. 

"Don't be silly, Ray.  It's a sport developed originally in Scotland, and
played on ice, between 
two teams of four. Each team consists of a skip, a vice, and two other
team members.  A game 
consists of eight ends and each team has eight rocks per end..." 

"Rocks?  Like what do they do with these rocks? Throw them like the bola
and try to knock out 
the other side?" 

"No, no, no, Ray.   You must be thinking of the hammer toss. These rocks
weigh about 15 kg 
and have a flattish bottom, a top with a handle and slide on the ice.  It
is manipulation of the 
handle upon releasing the rock, usually know as a draw, that allows the
player to direct the rock 
and make it curl, hence the name. Of course, once the rock is released,
the sweepers can also 
direct the rock to some small degree, and they can also affect whether or
not the rock will make 
it into the house, as close as possible to the button. Of course...." 

"Of course nothing, Fraser. I am not going to sit here listening to you
wind me up about some 
bizarre Scottish thing with rocks and sweepers and skips.  That is not a
sport. Nobody who curls 
is an athlete as far as I am concerned." 

"On the contrary, Ray.  Many curlers are fine athletes and the Briar is
one of the most watched 
sports events in Canada." 

"What is the...? No, no, I don't want to hear any more about curling." He
turned his attention 
back to the TV, which had once again gone to commercials. He pressed the
mute and stood up. 

"Understood Ray." Ben said innocently, looking up at him. 

"Ya want a drink?" Ray asked, heading into the kitchen. "I'm going to get
myself a beer." 

"No thank you, Ray."  Ben watched as Ray left the room, savouring the
opportunity to watch his 
friend's butt unobserved. Hopefully his admiration would not need to be
covert much longer. He 
was sure that Ray was as interested in him as he was in Ray, and he *was*
interested. Well, he 
was more than interested, he admitted to himself, he was in love with Ray.
The problem was 
how to convince Ray that he, Ben, was interested without Ray getting
strange on him. Reading 
the physical signs of Ray's interest in him had proven elementary to Ben's
powers of 
observation; it was ascertaining what Ray's mental state was with respect
to their potential 
romantic and (hopefully) sexual relationship that was proving to be more
difficult. 

Well, no, not really.  After all, if he cast his mind back, he was able to
clearly remember 
instances of Ray's emotional commitment to him, but what was bothering him
was Ray's 
apparent reticence to act on those physical and emotional states.  He had
never known Ray not to 
jump right in if there was something he wanted to do or say. He was
getting tired of waiting for 
Ray to make the first move.  On the other hand, his current plan was
unfolding more or less as 
designed. 

Sighing slightly, he glanced at the silent commercials. Feeding Dief the
last two pieces of pizza, 
he collected the rest of the supper debris and carried it into the
kitchen.  His timing was 
impeccable; he met Ray in the narrow corridor between the living room and
the kitchen. Ray 
attempted to sidestep when Ben, hands full with cardboard box, plates,
cutlery and glasses, 
headed toward him but he was unable to prevent the physical contact
necessitated by a 
combination of the small space, and a Mountie with more than helpfulness
on his mind. 

"Jeez, Benny.  Whyn't ya leave that stuff put?  After all, part of the
pleasure of having the house 
to ourselves this weekend is that we don't need to be neat every minute of
the day." Ray looked 
apprehensively down at his shirt, a colourful loose fitting short sleeved
silk affair worn out over 
the top of his cotton slacks. "I just hope you didn't get pizza stuff on
me.  I mean, every time I 
see you with garbage, I start thinkin' I should have invested in a dry
cleaners, ya know?" 

Ben popped his head out of the kitchen door, smiled quickly at Ray and
said, "I'll be out in a 
second Ray.  I'm just going to put this away."  Ray shook his head and
continued into the living 
room, beer in hand.  He flipped the sound back on, and settled back to
watch the game. The score 
was still a scoreless tie, but Chicago, by dint of some fairly impressive
pitching by a rookie from 
some Caribbean Island, was enjoying their first no-hitter of the season. 
On the other hand, sheer 
bad luck had kept them from scoring and twice they had loaded the bases
only to have the 
innings end with the men still on base. 

The thing was, he was having a hard time getting his mind back on the
game.  When Benny, 
balancing dinner debris, had brushed past him in the passageway, their
brief contact had left 
those areas of Ray's body tingling.  What was worse, as far as Ray was
concerned, was that that 
casual contact which, by the way, had somehow managed to neurally connect
to both his 
overheated brain and groin, was just that: casual contact.  No motive, no
intent, no promise of 
things to come.  Ray had nursed hopes that somehow this weekend he would
be able to make 
head or tail (no, don't go there) of his feelings for Benny. 

Well, no, actually, he was pretty clear on where he stood about that.  He
had done the 
psychological work on that baby -- the anger, the denial, the depression,
he'd had it all, and he 
had finally come to acceptance, and even pride, about how he felt about
Benny, about men 
generally.  He realized that even if he never got the nerve up to tell
Benny that he was gay and 
that he loved him, he had still managed to find out a lot of the answers
to puzzles about himself, 
puzzles that had been nagging him for years before the Mountie had even
come to Chicago. 
Clearly this was one of those good news /bad news things.  In his more
acerbic moments, Ray 
imagined the dialogue that accompanied his  revelation'. Well Mr. Vecchio,
the good news is 
that you are a happy, healthy, well-adjusted homosexual and that none of
the crap that happened 
with the women in your life was either your fault or theirs. The bad news
is that you will suffer 
from unrequited sexual and romantic love for your very best friend for the
rest of your born days. 
  

The problem was just that Benny was so damned virginal. Ray didn't even
know how to bring up 
the topic of sex with him without seeming crass and crude.  He knew that
if it had been anybody 
else, he would have already put the moves on them, but somehow, he just
couldn't find the 
words with Benny.  Maybe, he mused, maybe that's because this one would be
for keeps, and 
God knew, he didn't want to screw it up.  Why couldn't Benny just meet him
halfway on this? 
Or even, just give him a sign that he wasn't the next best thing to either
a monk or a eunuch. The 
sound of the kettle boiling broke his reverie, and he was once again
paying at least cursory 
attention to the game when Benny, carrying a small steaming pot of some
sort of herbal tea and a 
cup and saucer, came into the living room. 

"Aw Benny, I could've made you a cup of tea while I was out getting the
beer.  All you had to 
do was ask." Which, he added to himself, is precisely the problem here. 
Benny wouldn't bloody 
ask for anything, not even a cup of tea.  He's not a monk or a eunuch,
he's just so self sufficient 
that he doesn't need to have sex simply because it involves other people.
His mind strayed in an 
unruly fashion to thoughts of Benny and sex and solo.  He swallowed as the
already Benny-sensitized nerve endings in his groin perked up and he felt
his underwear suddenly grow a bit 
tighter. 
  
Benny sat down on the other end of the couch and carefully set the tea
paraphernalia on the end 
table next to him. Ray shifted back in his seat, trying to accommodate his
increasing... ah... 
tumescence.  Ben was peering into the tea pot and fishing around with a
teaspoon.  He removed a 
pink stained bit of gauze with a half-dozen leaves in it which Ray assumed
to be the tea bag, and 
set it carefully on the edge of the saucer. Ray watched this procedure
with a growing sense of 
frustration, both physical and mental.  A long standing coffee drinker, he
found himself irritated 
with the relentless puttering of tea drinkers, or at least, one particular
tea drinker. Though, in this 
instant at least, the puttering allowed him to regain a modicum of self
control, before being 
subjected to Benny's clear blue gaze. It would hardly do to have Mr.
Pure's acute gaze 
confronted by a raging hard-on.  A strong offense, Ray reasoned, is the
best defence. He returned 
Ben's glance with an equally bland one of his own. "So what is it you
wanted to ask me, 
Benny?" 

He didn't notice the slight upturn of Ben's lips which belied the
Mountie's pleasure at both 
Ray's physical, ah, discomfort, and question, the latter which at least
indicated that the 
conversational pawn had been seized and the verbal game had been rejoined.
"Well, Ray, I was 
just wondering if you could explain something about baseball, and perhaps
sports in general, to 
me?" 

Ray looked at him warily, clearly sensing another misdirection, but
relaxed slightly under the 
full force of Ben's frank blue-eyed gaze. Ray's own gaze softened and he
said, "Yeah, sure 
Benny. Go ahead, shoot." 

Ben looked startled. "Shoot what, Ray?" 

Ray could feel the back of his neck tighten, as it invariably did when he
had to explain some 
simple, but apparently completely alien, aspect of American culture to
Benny. "Jeez Benny, it's 
just an expression, like,  go ahead' or  begin.'" 

Ben stirred his tea again, using the opportunity to remove the tiniest
upward quirk of his lips. 
"Well Ray, you see, that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about." He
looked at Ray, who 
appeared puzzled. He expanded slightly. "Sports' expressions as a cultural
reference point, as 
idiom, as it were." 

Ray groaned quietly at Benny's question, or rather his lack of a specific
question. He hoped he 
wasn't going to have to try to sort through explaining some of the more
arcane sports' metaphors 
that peppered American speech to Benny, who, as much as he loved him,
could be a real pain in 
the ass when he was on a fact finding mission. Still, it would take his...
ah... mind off of other 
things. If truth be told, he rather enjoyed playing cultural tour guide
for Benny, though he could 
think of things he would rather give Benny a tour of. 

Ben took Ray's hesitation as a sign of further confusion, and went on to,
he thought, helpfully 
elucidate the problem. "You see Ray, I have observed that sports'
metaphors seem to form a 
significant portion of the American idiom, not unlike the way in which
naval expressions in the 
eighteenth and nineteenth century moved from the specific language on the
deck of a ship to 
more general use in everyday language.  In fact, many of these expressions
persist today, even 
though few, if any, using the expressions in common conversation
understand the original 
referent. Take, for instance, the expression  bitter end,' which as you
know is very commonly 
used in current parlance, but which ..." Ray's eyes were starting to glaze
over, an expression 
which Ben noted seemed to be a frequent response to his disquisitions. He
trailed off 
suggestively, allowing Ray the opportunity to interject. 

"Okay, Benny, okay. What do you want to know?" Ray looked back at the TV. 

"Ray, I think it would be best if I just chose some expressions that I
have had trouble with in the 
past.  I find it interesting that baseball seems to have given rise to
quite a number of these 
metaphors, disproportionately many if you ask me, and since we are
watching the game, you 
could show me exactly where they come from.  For instance," Ben paused,
looking at Ray, "For 
instance, left field, as in  out in left field'." 

Ray patiently explained the connection between the position  left field'
and the expression for 
something out of the ordinary, or unexpected. Benny, predictably, was
obtuse about the 
connection between the expression and the position and said, "Well Ray, if
it is so unexpected 
that someone would hit a ball to that part of the field, why is there a
field position called  left 
field'?  Wouldn't it make sense to just move that player somewhere else,
where there are more 
balls to catch?" 

Ray felt the swampy waters starting to close over his head but gamely
asked Benny what other 
expressions he needed help with.  Benny had a number of questions, and
Ray, after a while, 
found that he was enjoying using the expressions to illustrate some of the
finer (he thought) 
points of the game of baseball. 

Ben let Ray talk about baseball, listening as he explained ERA's and RBI's
even though they 
weren't strictly part of the exploration of sports' metaphors. He enjoyed
Ray's enthusiasm for 
the topic, and took pleasure in seeing how emotionally wrapped up Ray had
become in a game 
which, as far as he could see, still stood at a scoreless draw and which
consisted of occasional 
flurries of activity interspersed among interminable lengths of time when
nothing at all appeared 
to be going on. 

Soon, very soon, he would make his move. Careful manouvering on his part
had placed Ray, 
unguarded and unsuspecting, within reach of his trap.  The conversation
became not specifically 
limited to baseball metaphors, and Ray and Ben explored some of the
origins of phrases like 
 behind the eight ball',  on the ropes',  sidelined', and  blind sided'.
After a particularly long 
explanation of  here's mud in your eye', during which he felt compelled to
add an analogous 
Inuit story, Ben returned to the matter at hand. 
  

"Ray, there are some other baseball expressions that I've been wondering
about." He looked 
over at Ray. "Well, they're actually fairly simple expressions, which on
the surface would seem 
to be very obvious, but I wasn't familiar with the context in which they
were being used."  Ray, 
still unsuspecting, nodded absently, and concentrated on the last official
inning of the game. Ben 
paused, and when he could see  Ray starting to make  get on with it' hand
motions, he knew that 
this was it. Strangely, now that the moment was at hand, he felt, not
exactly *nervous*, but, 
perhaps just a little apprehensive. He took a deep breath "Take for
instance the expression, 
 getting to first base', as in  three months and he hasn't even got to
first base yet.' Since, as I 
understand it, the bases are at most 20 metres apart, it would seem
unlikely that they were 
referring to an actual game of baseball." 

Ray looked at Benny and instead of answering, asked, " Well, as you know
Benny, context is 
every thing with these expressions.  Where did you hear it used like
that?" 

"I overheard Detective Huey talking to another detective in the men's
washroom.  They didn't 
know I was there.  They appeared to be talking about one of the DA.'s in
connection with Ms. 
St. Laurent." 

"I'm sure they were, Benny, I'm sure they were." Ray paused briefly,
trying to figure out the 
right way to go about explaining to Benny the prevalence of sports
expressions which function 
as sexual metaphors. "It's like this, Benny.  Sometimes these sports
expressions are applied to... 
ah... dating and things like that." 

Ben nodded to himself, chewed on the inner part of his lower lip, and
looked at Ray, his brow 
slightly creased. "So what you are saying then is that what detectives
were referring to was the 
desire of the DA in question to date Ms. St Laurent?" 

"No, well, yeah. Sorta.  It's more like the utter failure of the said DA
to even get Louise to go 
out with him." Ray felt quite pleased with this summing up. He was
completely unprepared for 
Ben's next comment. 

"I suppose that the reason he is persisting in these unsuccessful attempts
is related to the fact that 
he doesn't know Ms. St. Laurent is a lesbian?" 

"Yeah ...." Ray's head snapped around when his brain registered what Benny
had said. "What? 
What? *Louise* is a *dyke*? No way!  How'd you find that out?" This
conversation had just 
taken one of those strange bounces which were not unheard of when Benny
was involved.  If you 
thought about it, Benny was the definition of "out in left field"
sometimes.  Ray dragged his 
mind back to the conversation. 

"It's quite simple Ray, if you know what to look for. And Ms. St. Laurent
clearly prefers 
 lesbian', though I am aware that many women so inclined have reclaimed
the term  dyke' as a 
political statement." Ben could feel himself starting to digress; after
all, he thought Ray knew 
about Ms. St. Laurent.  However, realizing that focus was of great
importance, he pulled himself 
back to the topic at hand. "But that's not the point here Ray.  We were
talking about what 
 getting to first base' means in a dating context." 

Ray's brain was spinning. Benny had just told him that Louise was a dyke,
no, sorry, *lesbian*, 
and that he, Benny, was what looked like a seasoned lesbian spotter.
Though come to think of it, 
Louise was one of the few women he knew who was completely immune to
Benny's charms, and 
even his own minor attempts at flirting with her had met with absolutely
no success.  Of course 
one couldn't generalize. After all, Monique, one of the uniforms, was as
dykey as they come and 
she *and* her girlfriend flirted with him outrageously. He shook his
head.  This whole 
conversation was getting too weird for words. On the other hand, he
thought, here was Mr. Pure 
talking knowledgeably about homosexual issues, so maybe there was some
hope yet. He 
wouldn't have given anyone odds on having the words  lesbian' or  dyke'
come out of Benny's 
mouth, so who knew. 

"Ray!" Ray shook his head and looked at Ben with what Ben had mentally
tagged as his  bug-eyed' look. "Ray, about the expression?" 

"Yeah, right Benny, the expression, right." He took a deep breath and
collected his scattered 
thoughts -- scattered, hell, pulverized would be a better word.  " First
of all, getting to first base 
is part of a whole series of similar expressions, like, well, getting to
second base and  so on, 
until, ah, well until..." 

"Until you get to fourth base, right?" Ben looked at Ray, waiting. 

"No, well, yes, but you see, it's called home plate, not fourth base, so
the expression there should 
be  getting home'.  But usually at that point, the expression would be,
well,  scoring'." Ray 
waited for the penny to drop. Benny continued to look at Ray, clearly
waiting for more 
information. " From  scoring a run', Benny." 

Benny appeared to be processing this information, but Ray knew better than
to assume that this 
would be the end of the questioning. He was right. "Ray, does that
mean...?  I mean, does 
 scoring' indicate...?" Benny took a deep breath, collecting himself. Ray
watched with a certain 
amount of satisfaction at Benny's discomfort. 

Ben cleared his throat, which for some reason had become remarkably dry.
"Ray, am I correct in 
assuming that  scoring' means that sexual intercourse took place?" 

"Yes Benny, that would be a correct assumption." Ray smiled to himself,
Mr. Pure was right. 
Benny was blushing just saying  sexual intercourse'. God knew what would
happen to him if he 
were to say some of the things Ray was longing to hear from his lips,
things like, "suck me" and 
"fuck me" and "let me fuck you". Ray's own discomfort increased
dramatically as well, though 
his seemed to be more localized than Benny's. 

"And does it always mean that? I mean, does scoring always mean what I
said it does and  does 
 getting to first base' always mean the same thing?" Ben noticed that Ray
seemed to be enjoying 
this part of the conversation. And though he wasn't exactly relaxed,
shifting about on the couch, 
he did look, Ben thought,  extremely kissable. 

" I think that I can help you out here, Benny. These expressions can be
quite personal, ya know. 
Like, personally I take  getting to first base' to mean having asked
someone I'm interested in 
out, that person having accepted my invitation, us going out, and then us,
that is myself and that 
person, agreeing to meet again." He watched to see what sort of an effect
this explanation was 
having on Benny.  Benny appeared to be studying the pattern on the rim of
his cup. Ray decided 
to press forward, warming to his topic, as it were. "Other guys got other
standards.  Jeez, I 
remember a guy I knew in police college, Brian was his name. Man, that guy
was so slow when 
it came to dating. Ya know, it'd take him all evening in a bar to make eye
contact. Someone like 
Brian,  first base' would be finding out the person's name.   Course it
didn't help that Brian's 
best buddy was a guy named Don.  Now his first base, well it was somewhere
between when he 
asked the person to go out to the parking lot and when they got into the
back seat of his car. Real 
sleazy." 

Ray chuckled softly remembering that Don had married a woman who had his
balls so tight in a 
vice that he never even went out for a beer after work these days. Smart
woman. Then he did 
some mental arithmetic and determined that if his personal definition of
"first base" held true, he 
and Benny had been in a holding pattern there for approximately two years.


Ben had been watching Ray through demurely lowered lashes, and he
calculated that by Ray's 
personal definition of  first base', they had been stranded there for the
past two years as well. 
And if Ray kept reminiscing about the sexual habits of ex-colleagues from
police college, he 
would get sidetracked.  Time to move the conversation forward. "If I
understand you correctly, 
Ray, each person's definition is somewhat different, and therefore, it
might be difficult, even 
confusing, to use these terms in conversation without exploring the exact
parameters of their 
specific definition." 

"Yes Benny, it might well be confusing." Ray noticed that Benny was not as
uncomfortable with 
the topic and situation as he had initially seemed to be. 

"So how do you know, without asking someone what they meant by  first
base', what they 
meant?" 

"Benny, it's just a guy sorta thing. I mean, ya just know the sorta range
of things that go on. It's 
hard to explain, that's all. I mean, a guy asks another one what happened
during a date and the 
other guy says,  well, ya know, I got to second base and then the phone
rang, ruined the mood 
completely' they're telling each other something without telling them, if
ya know what I mean?" 

Ben paused a moment, considering Ray's explanation. Perhaps that was the
sort of information 
Ray had been asking for when he had asked Ben about Francesca.  That
clearly hadn't been even 
a first base situation, he thought with relief.  "Yes, I think I do, Ray.
So then, it wouldn't really 
work for trying to negotiate a romantic or sexual encounter." Ray's
eyebrows shot up and he 
looked startled, but Ben continued.  "I mean, you couldn't just say to a
person in whom you have 
a romantic or sexual interest,  well, I'd like to get to second base with
you', could you?"  Ray 
was speechless, but shook his head slightly.  Ben plunged on. "No, I
thought not. One would 
clearly have to ascertain what the other person meant by second base
before making any sort of 
suggestion at all along those lines." 

"Ah, Benny..." Ray finally had found his vocal cords, though they seemed a
little tight. "Benny, 
these are not the sort of expressions that you use with the person you are
having sex with. They 
are used for talking about sex afterwards, with other people." 

"Oh, I see."  Benny had gotten that sort of mulish look on his face which
Ray associated with 
awkward supplemental questions that usually indicated that Benny didn't
see at all. "You mean 
that there are never instances when one person might say to the other,
knowing of course exactly 
what was meant by the term,  I'd like to get to second base with you?'" 

"No, Benny, I don't think there are." There was something going on with
this line of 
questioning.  Ray was sure of it and decided to push things a little bit,
just to see which way the 
wind was blowing, as it were. "You have to understand Benny, women hate it
when they are 
discussed in a way which they think equates them with being sexual
objects. And,  getting to 
second base', that is sexual objectification, big time." 

He watched as Benny carefully considered what he had just said.  The
crease in Benny's brow 
eased, and his face cleared a little. Ray decided that he certainly
wouldn't mind a little sexual 
objectification if Benny was the object, or the objectifier, for that
matter. He shifted his position, 
trying not to imagine exploring  second base' with Benny: lights down low,
jazz on the CD 
player, a lot less clothing, a lot more necking, kissing, groping, his
mouth on Benny's, Benny's 
hand on his (now all too aching) cock... Damn, how was he going to get up
from the couch when 
he was as hard as a rock without Benny noticing? 

"I suppose that makes a certain amount of sense if this romantic encounter
is between a woman 
and a man, but what about a romantic or sexual encounter between two men,
both of whom knew 
what the other meant by the expressions. Do you think that might prove to
be an exception to the 
rule? Would that necessarily be objectification, Ray?"  Ray's heart surged
and his already hard 
cock pressed uncomfortably into his underwear.  Even he couldn't miss the
direction Benny's 
questions were headed.  Clearly Benny had something on his mind, and all
the indications were 
that it was the same thing that Ray had on his mind. 

 When he replied, Ray's voice was a little husky, though not bad
considering the state of his 
nether regions, he thought. "Put like that, in the right circumstances,
between a couple of guys, I 
don't think that there would be a problem, Benny." 

Ray's arousal was clearly apparent to Ben, and he knew, from the way that
Ray had answered his 
last question, that his worries about Ray's reluctance were unfounded.  He
might be very much 
mistaken, but Ray seemed to be accepting about what he had been mentally
calling the  gay 
factor.'  There was still, however, the problem of how to make the first
move, and since Ben 
didn't really know what Ray considered  second base' to consist of, he was
reluctant to make 
that suggestion.  He also needed to consider exactly what *he* thought it
meant. He supposed 
that it would involve them moving closer together on the couch, cuddling,
touching, kissing 
even. He wondered what Ray's lips would taste like.  Probably a little
like beer and a lot like 
how Ray smelled, a citrusy and warm, and they would be soft and gentle,
and his mouth would 
be wet and hot, and his tongue ...  Ben's thoughts seemed to have a direct
connection to his 
groin, and the fullness there indicated the degree of his own arousal.  He
felt his face grow warm 
at this public (well, relatively) display of the depth of his feelings for
Ray.  He supposed that he 
could always come right out and tell Ray he loved him, that he had loved
him for a long time; 
but Ben's own natural reticence and his desire for Ray to make an emphatic
statement of his 
intentions combined to prevent him from making an outright declaration. 

"Ray?" His normally even voice was a bit ragged, and his breathing just a
shade uneven, but Ben 
was determined to press on.  Ray turned toward Ben, his face flushed, his
need for Ben and for 
release apparent in his eyes.  Ben's own skin temperature seemed to jump
suddenly in response 
to Ray's unspoken desire and he felt a wonderful intense sweetness
starting to blossom in his 
chest. "Ray," he said huskily, swallowing awkwardly, "What do you mean by
second base?" 

"Why do you want to know, Benny?"  Ray asked softly, looking into Benny's
lust darkened 
eyes, moving imperceptibly slowly toward Benny's oh so soft, just barely
parted lips, drinking in 
Benny's scent, just the faintest hint of sweet man-sweat, Mountie issue
soap, and line dried 
flannel. He was drowning on dry land and he didn't give a damn. 

"I think you know why, Ray."  Ben leaned toward Ray, the flush which had
started on his body 
spreading rapidly up his neck and face. He felt as though he were
floating, buoyed along by the 
swirling current of his desire, drawn to Ray's eyes, Ray's hands, Ray's
lips. 

"I think I do too, Benny." Ray closed the distance between them and, ever
so gently, brushed his 
lips against Benny's. 

*** 

The contact of lips on sweet lips was so brief, so fleeting, as to have
been almost non-existent, 
but the physical effects of the kiss were anything but non-existent. Ray
and Ben drew back 
slightly. They were both breathing hard, lips slightly parted, eyes
unfocussed as they moved 
together again. This time the kiss lasted longer, lips seeking each other
out almost of their own 
volition. Ray extended his right hand to rest lightly on the back of
Benny's neck, drawing them 
closer together, stroking the muscle and tendons, feeling the flush on
Benny's skin, the damp 
tendrils of dark hair at the base of Benny's perfect skull. Reluctantly
they broke contact, their 
lips hovering scant centimetres apart before coming together again. 

Ben's right hand rested lightly on Ray's shoulder feeling the warmth of
Ray's skin through the 
soft silk, a skin on top of skin, feeling the precise bone beneath a firm
layer of muscle. This 
tangible connection with Ray's flesh gave Ben at least some semblance of
control. He knew it 
was absurd, but it seemed to him that without this psychological brace, he
would be swept away 
by what was happening, drawn into the vortex generated by Ray's lips, by
the gentle pressure on 
the back of his neck, by the feeling of kissing and being kissed,
collapsing in upon himself until 
there was nothing left but his desire for Ray. The wonderful sweet
sensation in his chest 
threatened to engulf him completely. He felt as though all the oxygen had
been removed from 
the air and molecules of Ray had replaced it; and while his lungs might
not be able to sustain life 
on this mixture, he knew that it was all his heart had ever needed. 

Ray's other hand had found its way to the small of Ben's back and was
slipping between the 
carefully tucked flannel shirt and Ben's jeans. Ben drew back a little,
breaking contact with 
Ray's mouth. His own lips, however, possessed by a desire all their own
(well, not exactly all 
their own, he reflected), seemed determined to remain in contact with Ray
whatever the cost in 
terms of Ben's virtue or brain cells. Ray responded to Ben's movement by
withdrawing his hand 
gently.  His voice, breaking the silence of the last few minutes, (or was
it hours, Ben thought, all 
sense of time escaping him), was hoarse, his lips so close to Ben's that
Ben felt almost as much 
as heard Ray say, "It's okay Benny, I just want to feel your skin, that's
all. You always look like 
you've just been gift wrapped, ya know. And since it seems as though I'm
the designated present 
opener here, I'd better get started. You okay with that?" 

Ben nodded wordlessly, his eyes dark, his lips moving once again to
connect with Ray's. He 
experimentally slid his tongue through the part in his lips, brushing it
against Ray's lips, tasting 
him, feeling his lips in turn open slightly. Ray's mouth was hot, and wet,
and his tongue almost 
shyly met Ben's, tips touching, tasting, allowing Ben's tongue to run over
the oh so smooth 
surface of the inside of Ray's mouth. Ray groaned into Ben's mouth as Ben
swirled his tongue 
over Ray's palate. 

Ray couldn't believe what was happening to him, he had both arms around
Benny and Mr. Pure, 
that is Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police Constable, had his
surprisingly active 
tongue half way down his, Ray's, throat. He could die happy now, he
thought.  Well, no, he 
reconsidered, if there was more like this to come, and he just knew that
there was, he didn't want 
to forfeit a minute of it. 

His hand which had been resting on Benny's back, just above the waistband
of Benny's jeans, 
once again slipped down between jeans and shirt.  Ray could feel the
dampness of the flannel 
hugging the top of Benny's buttocks under his fingers as they searched for
the hem of the shirt. 
Where the hell was it, he thought, did Benny stitch it to his underwear to
repel boarders?  Ah, 
finally, his fingers touched the rolled edge of the hem and carefully he
pulled the shirt tail out of 
the pants, his hand slipping up along Benny's back between the now
untucked shirt and the still 
firmly (damn) tucked undershirt.  Sighing mentally, but still determined,
Ray untucked the 
undershirt by the simple expedient of grabbing a handful and tugging it
up.  Finally, finally, bare 
skin, Benny's bare skin, sweat slick, soft skin under his fingertips,
something real to convince 
him that he wasn't just in the middle of the most incredible wet dream. 

He skimmed his fingertips on either side of Benny's spine, going as far up
as he could, given the 
amount of clothing, and gently, very gently indeed, drawing his
fingernails down along Benny's 
back.  He was rewarded with a quiet moan, and Benny moved closer to him,
his hand finding the 
edge of Ray's shirt and sliding beneath it.  The skin on Ray's abdomen
shivered as Benny's light 
touch caressed it, his hand moving slowly around to rest on Ray's waist,
just above his belt, a 
solid warm weight, reassuringly present. 

Ray just had to get closer to Benny, a sort of full body closer, and if
anything stood in his way at 
the moment, it was Benny's right hand which had stubbornly refused to move
from his shoulder; 
but Ray had plans for that.  He took Benny's  hand in his, removing it
from his shoulder, and 
brought it to his lips.  Gently holding Benny's hand, he bent his mouth to
take the tip of Benny's 
index finger carefully between his teeth, just brushing the sensitive tip
with his tongue. He loved 
Benny's hands: strong, square, gentle, sooo damn sexy. 

Benny shifted on the couch, the distance between their torsos decreasing,
their body contact 
increasing. Lifting Benny's hand slightly, he nibbled along its outer
edge, licking the inside of 
Benny's wrist, exploring the little indentation on Ben's wrist made by the
tendons going to his 
thumb, tracing his tongue up the creamy inside of Benny's forearm,
kissing, licking, and nipping 
the sensitive skin. He watched as Benny's normally demure features became
kindled with the 
sort of desire that Ray could only have dreamed about. Who would have
guessed that Benny had 
such a sensual side to him? Certainly not Ray, even though he had
entertained hopeless fantasies 
in which Benny's desires had matched his own. 

Ben moaned as Ray's left hand traced small circles on his back, while his
fingers were slowly 
sucked into the hot wetness of Ray's mouth. He closed his eyes, and
allowed his mind to drift on 
the myriad sensations Ray's fingers and tongue were producing. The hot
mouth left his fingers 
and the cooler air on his wet skin created an interesting contrast. 
Before he could move, his 
mouth was once again covered with Ray's, and Ray's teeth pulled gently at
his lower lip, 
nibbling and gnawing, as his right hand cupped the back of Ben's neck
again.  Ben's right hand 
moved, apparently of its own accord, to rest on Ray's waist.  It seemed
the most natural thing in 
the world to draw Ray's lithe body forwards, to reach around behind Ray
and pull him close. 

Ray, apparently, had other plans. He started to lean backwards and the
pressure on Ben's neck, 
and Ben's own desire not to lose the sweet contact with Ray's mouth,
encouraged Ben to follow 
his lead. Ray slowly and gracefully sank into the deep cushions of the
couch and Ben followed 
him down, stopping to keep his full weight off  Ray. Clearly, however,
this was not what Ray 
had in mind.  The firm pressure on the small of his back and on his neck
indicated exactly how 
much of Ben Ray wanted to have contact with. Alarmed, Ben reluctantly
pulled his mouth from 
Ray's. "Ray, don't. I can't. I'll crush you." His voice felt rusty, like
he hadn't spoken in months, 
which, when he thought about it, didn't seem all that unlikely.  He had
been kissing Ray forever, 
hadn't he?  He was almost surprised to realize that his lips, tongue and
mouth had other uses 
than simply kissing Ray. Surely that sort of memory loss could not have
taken place over only a 
few minutes, could it? 

"Benny, don't you worry about it. You can't hurt me here. All I want is to
feel you on top of me. 
All of you, on top of all of me,  cos ya know, you feel *so* good." Ray
grinned up at Benny, and 
let the hand on Benny's back drift downward to caress Benny's buttocks
through the rough 
fabric of the jeans. 

Benny, who had been somewhat gingerly lowering his weight onto Ray, gasped
as the pressure 
Ray put on his buttocks pushed his erection into contact with Ray's. Ray
moaned softly, and 
murmured into his ear, "You see how good it feels?" Then Ray drew the tip
of his tongue down 
along the side of Benny's neck until he was able to gently bite the web of
muscle just above 
Benny's collarbone. He moved the hand from the back of Benny's neck and
slid it and its 
companion under the waistband of Benny's jeans, under the elastic of his
boxers, until they 
cupped his smooth firm buttocks. 

Ray could tell that Benny was still not completely comfortable with lying
on him; he kept 
shifting his position ever so slightly, but he made no attempt to get up,
and the contact between 
their groins was so... ah... stimulating, that Ray felt sure that he was
going to embarrass himself 
in a way that he hadn't since he was in high school. Benny had slid one
leg in between Ray's 
legs and it was all Ray could do not to hump Benny's thigh like Fido the
dog. Not that he was 
sure Benny would mind; there were some pretty humpy movements coming from
Mr, Pure's 
hips, and Benny's mouth had once again claimed Ray's in a manner that left
little doubt as to his 
intentions. 

Benny's hands, freed from Ray's waist had made their way up Ray's torso,
still cupping Ray's 
sides, thumbs brushing gently over Ray's nipples. Ray groaned. Well, drop
kick me Jesus 
through the goal posts of life, he thought, I *am* dying happy. Ray dug
his nails into Benny's 
buttocks at the same time as the phone rang. 

*** 

Both Ray and Ben groaned. Ben removed his hands from Ray's chest as though
lightning had 
struck him and struggled to push himself off the couch, a procedure not
helped by the fact that 
Ray still had his hands in Ben's jeans, grasping Ben's buttocks firmly. 
The phone kept ringing, 
and Ben, somewhat wild-eyed, asked "Ray, that's the phone, aren't you
going to answer it?" 

In spite of himself, Ray had to laugh at Benny's reaction. Mind you, it
was typical of Benny's 
reaction to technology generally: completely typical for Benny to assume
that you had to make 
your self available to answer the phone regardless of what you were doing.
On the other hand, as 
the phone continued to ring, he wished he had availed himself of some of
technology's bells and 
whistles and turned the damn thing off. Of course, he hadn't predicted
that he was going to end 
up making out on the couch with the (no longer) unrequited love of his
life. 

"Don't worry Benny, the answering machine will pick up in a couple of
rings, whoever it is on 
the phone, which, if I ever find out who it is, I will hunt down and kill,
personally, that person 
will hang up and then we can get back to what we were doing. " He wiggled
his hips a little, just 
to make sure that Benny didn't forget what it was they were doing. He was
rewarded with Benny 
lying back down, albeit still gingerly. They heard the answering machine
pick up and Ray 
silently cursed the day he thought up that stupid Miranda type answering
message. It had seemed 
funny at the time, but now, with Benny lying on top of him, their
erections at the ready, a simple 
 leave the number, goodbye' would have been more than adequate. 

Instead, they listened to Rays's voice saying: 
"You have reached, 555-0637, you have the right to leave your number, if
you waive this right, 
no one will return your call; you have the right leave the time of your
call, if you do not,  don't 
blame us if we don't get back to you on time; and you have the right to
leave a message, if you 
chose not to, we will take turns making up a suitable message for you. If
you understand and 
agree to all these rights, feel free to leave number, time, and message at
the beep." 

"Raimondo?" Ray groaned, Benny groaned, and Dief, who had abandoned the
living room 
during the two humans' mating ritual, poked his head around the corner
from the hallway and 
whined, pleased to hear from that particular human. Mrs. Vecchio's long
distance voice 
continued, "Caro, are you there? I tried your cell phone first, but it
isn't answering, so I assume 
that you are out and haven't taken the phone or you are already in bed..."


No ma, just wishing I was born an orphan, Ray thought with vehemence.
Benny had struggled up 
and was sitting on the edge of the couch looking dishevelled. God, he
looks good like that, Ray 
groaned. 

Benny mouthed, "Shouldn't you answer the phone?" at Ray. Sometimes he is
such a boy scout, 
Ray thought, not without affection. He sighed, sat up, and picked up the
phone, turning the 
answering machine off. 

"Yeah, ma?" His voice was thick with lust and he hoped that she wouldn't
be able to 
differentiate between that and his normal grumpy voice. As if hoping
something like that ever 
worked. She probably had some sort of direct psychic link to all her kids,
so she knew what they 
were getting up to.  Christ she probably knew exactly when to call for
maximum frustration 
value. No, he was getting paranoid, jeez, get a grip, Vecchio, he thought.
Then he groaned when 
he realized what sort of a grip he needed at this point. 

"Caro, is that you? Are you okay?" Her voice sounded anxious. 

"Yeah, ma, fine. No problems. What's up?" He looked at his lap, and this
time at least managed 
to stifle his groan. Benny, damn his socks, was laughing at him. He
mouthed, "shut up" at him, 
and tossed one of the cushions at his head, missing. 

"Have you got a woman there, Ray?" Mrs. Vecchio's voice was sharp. 

"No, ma, no woman. Just Benny. We're watching the game." Ray explained
patiently. Benny 
sidled closer to Ray and whispered in Ray's ear, his hot breath tickling
Ray's ear, "Liar, Liar, 
Pants on Fire."  Ray covered the mouth piece and groaned again. It just so
happened that his 
pants did feel as though they were on fire, but he didn't need some
over-grown juvenile with a 
penchant for stupid sayings pointing it out, even if he did love him to
pieces. 

"Benny, you're not helping," Ray muttered through clenched teeth as Benny
slid his tongue 
around the rim of Ray's ear. 

"So, why'd ya call, Ma?" he asked, removing his hand from the mouth piece.
Benny had relented 
and was settling back on the cushions. Ray was already plotting his
revenge and he almost didn't 
hear his mother's next words. 

"Ray, your sister is on her way home. She left about an hour ago, so she
should be there 
about..." 

"What?" Ray's voice rose several octaves in the course of  the single
syllable. "Franny? coming 
home? here? tonight?" Benny fell over backwards onto the couch, covering
his face with the 
cushion Ray had tossed at him and groaning. 
  
"As I was saying, she should be there anytime, depending on the traffic,
of course. But the 
reason I called was because she left her purse here, and of course, I
didn't want her to worry 
about where it was." It all made perfect sense to Ray. There was a cruel
and arbitrary God and 
she, he was sure it was a she, had his number, big time. 

"Yeah, Ma. I'll tell her when she gets here. " Right before I kill her, he
added to himself. Still, he 
couldn't imagine what would have happened if Franny had walked in five
minutes ago, so he 
guessed he should be thankful for a warning at least. 

"You're a good boy, Raimondo. Good night Caro. And say good night to
Benton too." 

"I will ma, and you have a good night too." 

He hung up the phone and looked at Benny, who was sitting up again,
looking, well, edible, hair 
wild, shirt untucked and rucked up at the back, flushed, sexy.
Unfortunately, his *fucking* sister 
was all but on the doorstep, no doubt driving back all the way from
Holiday Acres, Illinois 
hoping to catch Benny on his way to bed so she could waylay him, and he
and Benny were in a 
state of terminal heat, and there was nothing to be done about it now. Why
couldn't someone just 
shoot him now, he thought bitterly, hanging his head. 

"Ray, I assume from your conversation that Francesca will be coming back
here tonight." Ben 
looked at Ray, thinking that he was quite possibly the most beautiful
thing he had ever seen. 

Ray glanced up."Yeah, she's due in at any moment, flying in on her
broomstick. Talk about 
lousy timing." 

"Oh dear, that soon." Ben's eyes never left Ray's face. He understood
Ray's frustration at the 
way in which their love-making (yes, love-making, his heart sang) had been
interrupted. He felt 
it himself, and yet... And yet, he was sure that what had happened tonight
wasn't going to change 
tomorrow or the next day, and perhaps, just perhaps, a bit of a delay
would give them time to 
talk about what was happening with their relationship, regardless of what
his traitorous groin 
was feeling just at this moment. He gently cupped Ray's chin in his hand
and lifted Ray's face 
up.  Then he leaned forward and kissed Ray chastely on the lips. Ray
looked at him, doubt and 
disappointment clearly fighting a battle with reason and elation in his
eyes. 

"Ray, nothing is any different than it was ten minutes ago.  I want..."
Ben took a deep breath, "I 
want to make love with you Ray, but it looks like it won't happen tonight,
will it?" Ray nodded, 
and swallowed hard. Ben continued, "The most important thing, for me at
least, is that you want 
to make love with me, as well." Ray nodded again, and Ben was relieved to
see that Ray was 
visibly less tense.  He smiled, as he leaned forward to meet Ray's lips
again. Ray's hand came up 
under Ben's shirt and trailed along his spine. Ben inadvertently shivered.
If they didn't stop, 
Francesca would walk in on them even with a warning. 

"I want that too, Benny." Ray's voice was almost back to normal. He
touched Benny's face with 
his fingers, tracing the planes of Benny's cheek.  He still couldn't
believe what had happened.  In 
someways, now that he was over his initial hormone enhanced funk, the sort
of idiocy that this 
 return of Fanny' signified only served to convince him that this hadn't
all been a dream.  Things 
this stupid never happen in dreams, he told himself mentally.  He supposed
that they could take 
off and go to Benny's place, but he also realized that they might need to
do some talking first. 
He had come dangerously close to just letting lust have its head, not that
that would have been 
necessarily a bad thing, his groin reminded him, but still, as this one
was for keeps, it might 
behoove him not to screw it up by rushing things. 

They heard a car pull into the driveway, and a car door slam, then the
trunk popped open and 
they could here the soft muttering of Francesca's stream of consciousness
monologue. They both 
stood up; Ray turned to Ben, and said, "I don't think that seeing you in
that... ah... condition, 
would do you any favours with Franny. She'd probably jump your bones right
here." Ben 
laughed, considering how close Ray himself had been to doing just that.
Ray continued, "If you 
feel like it, I have somewhere I would like to take you tomorrow. There is
someone there that I 
want you to meet. And the bonus is that we would have to be out of the
house before Franny gets 
up. I'll get us up in time, okay?" 

"Ray, I ...ah.... we..." Ben heard the trunk slam shut and the sound of
Francesca's heels on the 
concrete of the walkway beside the house. 

"Yeah, Benny. I know. We can talk about it tomorrow. We *need* to talk
about it tomorrow." 
Ray leaned forward and quickly kissed Benny's lips. "Now go to bed and
sweet dreams, Benny, 
sweet dreams." He snickered wickedly and pushed Ben in the direction of
the guest room just as 
they heard the key in the kitchen door lock. "Oh, and Benny?" Benny turned
to look back at Ray 
questioningly. Ray smiled broadly, "Welcome to second base." 

*** 

After Benny left the room, Ray took stock of both his own physical
condition and the condition 
of the couch.  Fortunately the game was still on and the commentators were
nattering softly 
about the bottom of the eleventh inning.  Ray collapsed backwards onto the
couch and put his 
feet up on the coffee table. He could hear Fanny kicking off her shoes in
the kitchen and then the 
clunk of something heavy being dumped on the kitchen table. 

"Hello?  Ray? Is anybody home?" then somewhat lower in tone, "not that
he's home even when 
he is home, so why should anything change. Oh hi Dief. Where's Benton?
That might be the 
only thing worth while about this damn road trip from hell, but then, even
I can read the writing 
on the wall there, can't I." Ray listened intently, wondering what sort of
writing was on the wall. 
He heard the fridge door open and Franny pop open a drink, diet coke most
likely, and then the 
door shut again. Dief whined and Franny said, "Oh, sorry fella.  Here's a
bit of toaster strudel for 
you, lots of icing on this piece." Dief whined again and then Ray heard
the distinct sound of a 
wolf inhaling toaster strudel and licking his chops. 

Franny continued talking, "Of course, I just met this life guard today, my
God, shoulders to die 
for, and you know, Dief, he actually noticed I was female. Such a relief, 
cos, no offence 
intended, but that Benton might as well be a priest for all the good he's
done me, and you know, 
a girl has the right to be appreciated a little, doesn't she.  The life
guard on the other hand..." 

Ray had heard more than enough of Franny's heart to heart with Dief and he
certainly didn't 
want to know what his sister had gotten up to, or was planning to get up
to with any life guard in 
Illinois.  He called from the living room, trying to sound as though he
had been asleep, "That 
you, Franny?" 

He heard the sound of Franny choking on her drink, and the swearing that
accompanied the 
coughing which followed was quite colourful. Serves her right, he thought
maliciously.  She 
appeared in the doorway of the living room, hands on her hips demanding,
"Whatsa matter with 
you? You can't say  Hi Franny, I'm in the living room' when I come in?
Instead, you scare the 
daylights out of me and make me snort diet coke up my nose.  Ma's right,
sometimes you got no 
manners, Ray. Besides, you could have come out and helped me with taking
that damn cooler 
out of the trunk. I think I broke a nail." 

Ray got up and stretched, shutting off the TV. "You think you're pissed?
What about me? 
Barging in here when you're supposed to be at the cottage. I was asleep
and I didn't hear you 
come in.  By the way, Ma called earlier, said you left your purse at the
cottage. Figured you'd 
worry about where it was." 

"Did she tell you which freezer the damn lasagne is in?" 

"What?" Another perfect example of left field, Ray thought. 

"I'm here, dear brother, on a mission from our mother.  We are having some
people over at the 
cottage for supper tomorrow, and Ma figured that it would be easiest to
just heat up some of her 
lasagne. The salads and stuff she can do at the cottage, but real cooking,
you know her, no way 
was that poky little kitchen big enough.  SO as you can guess, guess who
got nominated to drive 
home to fetch the lasagne."She sighed, "At least it isn't kissing butchers
*this* time. So I gather 
she didn't bother to tell you which freezer the lasagne was in? Oh well,
we'll just have to hunt 
for it. Come on, brother dearest, let's go sort through the freezers." 

Hope swelled in Ray's heart. Maybe Franny was going to head right back to
the cottage, now, 
tonight. "What's the rush Franny? Are you going back tonight?" He tried to
keep the hope out of 
his voice. 

"No, I just got strict instructions, take the lasagne out tonight, and put
it in the cooler. That way 
it will defrost slowly, and there will be less chance that anyone will
know that she didn't whip it 
up on the spot using a cracked cup and a dessert fork.  You know how Ma
is. If it ain't fresh 
made, its like she's going to get found out by the good housekeeping
police." Franny shrugged. 
"I'll head back tomorrow, before noon. Why, you want to come along? You'd
have to sleep on 
the couch though." 

Ray shook his head. "Naw, Benny and I are going out to a ball game early
tomorrow morning." 
Hold onto that thought Vecchio, he thought, and you'll not be involved in
a messy domestic 
murder. 

Franny rolled her eyes at him, and turned to head into the hallway. "You
men, all you can think 
about are games with balls in them." Ray had to bite his tongue to keep
from laughing out loud. 
If only Franny knew how right she was, he thought.  Regaining his somewhat
limited 
composure, he followed her into the hall way and down into the basement
where the three 
Vecchio freezers were kept. 

Yes there is a hell, he thought as he pressed his swollen erection against
the sides of three 
different freezers attempting to locate the elusive lasagne, and it is
people who are related to you. 
By the time he had extracted the three 9 X 13 pans, carefully wrapped in
foil and tied with string, 
his groin was throbbing and he personally wanted to hunt down and kill,
not necessarily in any 
particular order, his sister, his mother, whoever was coming for supper
tomorrow, and the idiot 
who had designed chest freezers.   He rather ungraciously dumped the
lasagne on the kitchen 
table once they had emerged from the basement, saying, "There, you go
Franny. I won't be 
seeing you tomorrow. Good night." 

As he went up the stairs, he heard Franny yell, "Good night, brother," and
then resume her rather 
one-sided conversation with Dief. Walking past the guest room, he heard
the shower running in 
the guest room bathroom: no doubt Benny taking care of unfinished
business.  He closed the 
door to his bedroom, and leaned his back against it, his mind turning over
the events of the last 
two hours. He caught sight of himself in the mirror across the room, and
noted  the cat that ate 
the canary' grin that was plastered across his face.  In spite of
everything, he kept coming back 
to the realization that he had just spent the better part of an hour on
the couch, making out with 
Benny, who, all prior evidence to the contrary, could make out like a
bandit. He couldn't 
remember the last time he had had so much fun with his clothes *on*, and
he had every 
expectation that they would have as much fun or more tomorrow with their
clothes *off*. Just 
the thought of Benny with his clothes off made Ray's already painfully
hard cock press a little 
more tightly against his underwear. Time for some release, Ray thought, or
a very cold shower, 
and started to unbutton his shirt. 

*** 

Meanwhile, in another part of the Vecchio household, Ben, having carefully
considered the 
situation, decided that a bracing shower would be just the thing to
enhance his chances for sleep. 
His only miscalculation was underestimating the intensity of his own
desire for release and not 
taking into account the recent awakening of a thousand nerve endings
hardwired to his personal 
pleasure. He stood under the warm throbbing of the shower which strangely
enough, seemed to 
resonate with the throbbing of the blood in his groin, in his lips, behind
his eyes. Water the 
temperature of his blood cascaded down over his body, ran in rivulets
across his chest, between 
his buttocks, down his legs.  His eyes closed, he shivered as he imagined
each rivulet  as Ray's 
tongue, Ray's fingers, exploring, seeking out Ben's hidden erogenous
zones. 

Slowly, his fingers came up to touch his face as Ray's had. Inserting his
own finger in his mouth, 
he remembered the intense pleasure as Ray had sucked and nibbled the
sensitive tips of his 
fingers. He experimentally tried sucking on two fingers, surprised at how
sexy this felt, then 
realizing that what he really wanted was Ray's tongue, Ray's fingers,
Ray's cock, filling his 
mouth, stretching his lips, scraping gently across his teeth.  His other
hand came up to his chest, 
his fingers following the course of the water down across the broad
expanse, gently brushing 
across first one and then the other nipple. He groaned around his fingers,
as the sensations from 
his nipples were palpably transmitted to and intensified in his groin. He
removed his fingers 
from his mouth, and his right hand joined his left in caressing his
nipples, dragging his nails 
around the firm little points. 

He imagined Ray's mouth, warm and wet, tongue agile and teasing on his
nipples, teeth gently 
nibbling, biting ever so carefully, his own mouth finding Ray's nipples,
licking them till they 
stood at attention. Every nerve ending in Ben's groin was on overload, his
breathing in the 
steamy shower (steamy in more than one way, he thought wryly) quickening,
his legs getting 
rubbery. Slowly he sank to his knees, the hot water continuing to punish
his back, running in 
scalding sheets over his shoulders and buttocks. 

Not quite knowing what he was doing, or why, he reached for the shampoo on
the ledge around 
the tub. Placing some shampoo in his right hand, he started to
meticulously soap his very firm 
erection.  The first few strokes, whisper light touches of his own soap
slick hand, almost took 
him over the edge. He drew back, reluctant to end this sweet
self-administered torture.  He had 
never felt free enough to explore his body the way he was doing now. Prior
to this evening, 
Ben's sexual experience, either with a partner, and there had been very
few of those, or when the 
need grew too great, by himself, had been perfunctory at the best. Except,
he thought, maybe that 
first time, with Phil; but his grandmother had made sure that had ended
unhappily. 

He knew, from long experience, exactly how best to bring himself off in
the shortest possible 
time. Sex had become reduced to a mechanical bodily function for him,
something which had to 
be taken care of from time to time, but which should impinge in as minor a
way as possible on 
the correct functioning of the human organism.  It seemed to Ben that what
had happened tonight 
with Ray and what was currently happening in the shower, bore no
resemblance at all to what 
Ben had previously experienced as sexual release. Perhaps, just perhaps,
this was what sex was 
supposed to be, and if it was this good here alone, how would it be with
Ray? Ben could not help 
the tears that squeezed out from between his closed lids and were washed
away with the 
streaming water. He had been selling himself short for a long time. 

Shifting slightly, he parted his knees, feeling the cascade of warm water
run between his spread 
thighs, caressing the base of his cock, running over his achingly tight
balls. He eased his soapy 
fingers around his balls, heavy with need of release, to stroke the band
of muscle that ran from 
his balls back toward his anus. His other hand left off teasing his nipple
and drifted down across 
his belly to encircle his erection, the soap slick shaft taut with
arousal. Spreading his thighs as 
wide as they would go, he slid the tip of his index finger into the
opening of his anus, surprised 
at the tightness of the ring of muscle, gratified at the intense pleasure
that even such a minor 
penetration produced, awed by the thought of Ray claiming him, penetrating
him, filling him. 
His hand moved of its own accord along the shaft of his cock, his hips
thrusting in a rhythm as 
old as time.  He fought his body's drive toward completion, attempting to
achieve a permanence, 
a distillate of the pure intensity of his desire, but in the end, passing
the point of no return, he 
cried out his release, the image of Ray's face, flushed with desire, eyes
darkened with lust, a 
faun in rut, taking him over the edge. 

Ben sank back on his heels, eyes still closed, all evidence of his desire
washing away with the 
streams of water. He felt clean, rejuvenated, a feeling which had never
accompanied his 
masturbatory efforts before. He would ponder the reason for that later, he
thought. Right now, all 
he wanted to do was get into bed and go to sleep.  He mechanically
shampooed and rinsed his 
hair, the citrusy smell reminding him of Ray, and as he opened his eyes
prior to pulling himself 
to his feet, not completely sure his legs were fully functional, he caught
a glimpse of something 
at the other end of the steamy tub. Something large and covered with a
yellow oilskin slicker, 
complete with sou'wester. His head jerked back, banging hard against the
tile. He swore softly 
and scrambled to his feet in an ungainly manner. "Dad? What the hell are
you doing here?" he 
asked, chagrined, squinting through the steam. Fine, let lightning strike
him down now, he 
thought, it would be so much less painful than the conversation he knew
was about to ensue. 

"Hello, son. Your head hurt? That was a nasty bang, and I don't think it
did the tile any good 
either." Fraser Sr regarded his son with what looked to Ben remarkably
like malicious affection. 

"A little concern for my privacy might have prevented this accident, you
know. Don't you care 
at all about my feelings?" Ben snapped the water off, pulled open the
shower doors and stepped 
out, dripping, past Fraser Sr. Grabbing a towel from the rack next to the
sink, he started 
vigorously drying himself off, carefully not making eye contact with his
father's ghost. "So how 
long were you sitting there?" he finally asked. 

"Long enough, son, long enough." His father's face crinkled up in a way
which Ben knew from 
long experience meant no good. Ben groaned, his head falling forward on
his chest. It was worse 
than he thought. His father kept right on talking, clearly enjoying Ben's
humiliation. "That boy 
really has you bamboozled, doesn't he? My god, there you were, pulling on
your own pony, like 
a randy teenager." He chuckled malevolently.  Ben thought about strangling
him with Mrs. 
Vecchio's bath towel but remembered, with no small regret, that his father
was already dead. 

The ghost removed himself fastidiously from the bathtub and Ben noted that
Fraser Sr. had hip 
waders on under the oilskins. Hip waders, in July, in downtown Chicago, in
a bathtub, for 
heaven's sakes.  If his psyche was responsible for these visions, or
whatever the hell they were, 
he needed professional help.  Ben sighed deeply. 

"Aren't you a little overdressed, Dad?" he asked, somewhat muffled,
towelling his hair dry, and 
hoping to derail the older Mountie. 

"Well, it is a tad hot in here, but you have to admit that at least I kept
my dress uniform dry this 
time." He lumbered over to lean against the vanity and regarded Ben, who
was now briskly 
drying his back, speculatively. "Is that a love bite on your neck, son?"
He asked, peering at 
Ben's collar bone. "My God, it is. Don't tell me it was the cop that did
that. You know, your 
mother could really give a man a love bite. Strong teeth on that woman,
just like a horse. She 
could have stripped bark with those teeth. Sometimes I'd look like I had
the measles first night I 
was back home in the spring. But you know what they say, it's the suction
more than the teeth..." 

"Dad, shut up.  I really don't want to hear about your love life, which,
as you are a ghost, can 
only be in the past tense, even if you have intruded into mine." Ben did
not, did *not* want to 
continue down that particular conversational pathway. 

Trying to change the subject, he said, "As a matter of fact it was Ray."
Ben's father looked 
puzzled. "The... ah...love-bite. On my neck. It was Ray." 

"Oh, well then, that's okay." Fraser Sr. hitched his rubber clad butt up
onto the vanity and 
crossed his legs. 

"What do you mean,  That's okay?'" Ben asked, drying his feet. "What can 
okay' possibly 
mean in a situation where I am having a conversation with a ghost who
appeared while I was in 
the bathtub." 

Fraser Sr. sighed. "Maybe I was wrong about the cop. You and the cop."
Ben's head whipped 
around and he stared at the older mountie.  He'd never heard him admit
that he had been 
mistaken before. 

Fraser Sr. sighed again. "I was ragging you about your little activities
in the shower because I 
was sure that you hadn't done anything about your feelings for him, and
that, knowing you, you 
weren't going to either. I thought that maybe if I goaded you a little,
you would get your act 
together, you know. Maybe I was wrong." 

Ben looked at him incredulously. His brain wasn't processing all of the
information clearly, but 
he certainly thought he could see glimmers of light in even his father's
telegraphic 
conversational style. "Let me get this clear, Dad. You thought you were
going to encourage me 
to get together with Ray by dropping into my bath and humiliating me?" 

"Okay, it may not have been the best plan in the world, son. But you know,
sometimes you are 
slower to get started than a Yukon summer.  I wouldn't have given you a
hope in hell of making 
it to first base, given your track record, you know. And why were you, you
know," he asked, 
making a significant gesture with his right hand, "if you two are on a
neck-biting basis?" 

"I am going to say this once, and only once, Dad, so pay attention.  If it
was up to Ray and I, we 
would be down there on the chesterfield this instant fucking our brains
out. As it is, our families, 
you included, have managed to interfere to the point that we are spending
what I sincerely hope 
will be the last night for a very long time in separate beds. Is that
clear?" Ben was slightly taken 
aback with the vehemence with which he had made clear to his father the
exact nature of his 
relationship with Ray, but the older Fraser seemed to take it in his
stride. He even looked, Ben 
thought wonderingly, well, *pleased* by Ben's outburst. 

"Well, son, so long as you have things under control here, I'd best be
going. These hip waders 
are hell to sit in for any length of time." He leaned confidentially
toward Ben, "Upcreep, if you 
get my meaning, and worse if you have piles." He stepped back into the
bath and drew the 
shower doors closed behind him. 

"Dad?... Dad?... Are you gone?... Thank God, he's gone." Ben actually
wouldn't have minded if 
his father had chosen to be a bit more explicit, but he had the distinct
feeling that Fraser Sr. had 
just given them his blessing. Wonders never cease, he thought to himself,
turning out the light, 
and walking into the guest room and the waiting bed. 

*** 

Ray carefully hung his shirt up in the wardrobe in his room.  He slid out
of his pants, and folded 
them over the chair beside his bed.  He stood facing the mirror clad only
in white athletic socks 
and white cotton briefs. He looked, to his own disparaging eye, a bit
scrawny; he certainly 
wouldn't have given himself a second look, and yet, unbelievably, Benny
had looked at him with 
lust, with love.  He shook his head, unable to stop the grin from
spreading across his face, 
unwilling to even try. Ah yes, Raymond Vecchio, picture of a grinning
fool, which he quickly 
amended to grinning fool with erection; an erection which needed seeing
to, as it were, if he had 
any hope of getting to sleep. As he turned to walk to the bed, he caught a
glimpse of his father, 
cheesy vinyl jacket and all, leaning up against the wall next to the door.
Would it never stop, he 
thought. Next thing he knew, Maria, Tony and the kids would be doing the
macarena through the 
bedroom singing the theme-song from Laverne and Shirley. 

"What the fuck do you want? Hell isn't hot enough, so you thought Chicago
in July would toast 
you up?" Christ, was he pissed. All he wanted to do was crawl between the
sheets, jack off and 
get to sleep, but no, the malicious God clearly had other plans for him
tonight. He wouldn't 
make it to tomorrow and Benny. They would find him a gibbering idiot
crouched at the foot of 
his bed in the morning at the rate things were going. 

"Is that any way to talk to your old man?" his father asked, removing the
tooth pick from his 
mouth. 

"Look, you wanna talk etiquette, try knocking before you come into my
room, or better yet, try 
knocking before you come into my life."  Ray strode over to wardrobe,
yanked the door open 
and grabbed his bathrobe. He knew rationally that it was only a vision, or
whatever, but he hated 
to have to confront it in his jockey shorts, with a raging boner. "So, at
the risk of repeating 
myself, what do you want?  Cos, you know, it's not like I *care* about
what you want, it's just 
that I know damn well that you won't go away until you get it, even if it
is only to drive me 
crazy."  He shut the door with more force than was absolutely necessary
and sat down on the 
chair. He regarded his father's ghost, wondering what was going to come
out of his mouth. 

"You got no right to be pissed with me, so don't go acting so high and
mighty." The ghost spat a 
bit of chewed tooth pick onto the carpet. "After all, you ain't got a
faggot for a son." 

Ray's heart sank.*Shit. Shit. Shit. Triple Shit.* He knew what was coming,
and he didn't, 
*didn't* want to go there. Still, if he couldn't defend his life's choices
to the ghost of his old 
man, who would he be able to? "Okay, you want to go through this now,
fine. In a sick sort of 
way, I have been looking forward to this. Come on, cite me chapter and
verse from the Red-Neck 
Handbook On Fag Baiting, but I'm warning you, Dad, I ain't changing my
mind, not for you, or 
anyone else. I like who I am now, and I couldn't say that two years ago."
Ray struggled to keep 
his hands from clenching into fists. Not that he wouldn't have minded
knocking the shit out of 
his father, it's just that he knew it was ridiculous to try to hit a
ghost, irrespective of how truly 
offensive he might be being. He leaned back in the chair, legs crossed at
the ankle, and laced his 
fingers together behind his head, hoping, he thought, against hope, to
look as nonchalant as 
possible. 

Whatever it was, it certainly seemed to be getting on the ghost's tits. A
look of revulsion swept 
over the apparition's features and it spat out, "I can't believe you're a
fuckin' queer.  Ya know, I 
didn't raise you to be a cocksucker." 

"No Dad, that's right, you did not. If I recall correctly, you were never
that important a factor in 
how I was raised, so I guess you can rest easy, knowing that you had no
part in how I turned out. 
That should make you rest in hell easier." Ray felt himself mentally
counting to ten, before he 
felt capable of going on. "And you know, I am sooo fucking tired of this
crap about assessing 
blame.  Next thing you'll be blaming it on Ma, or Chicago water, or
fucking space aliens. But 
you just don't get it, do you?  Cos, there is nothing to blame anything
on." He watched his 
father's reaction, which, predictably, was just this side of apoplectic. 

"You mean you don't deny it?  You're proud of being a faggot?  That is
even sicker than being 
queer!" 

"Hello? Earth to bigot, where have you been for the last five minutes? I
am very proud of who I 
am, and that includes, but is not limited to, who I fuck. You know, you're
just unbelievable.  Not 
the homophobia stuff,  cos I knew that you would be Mr. Sensitivity there,
but the part about not 
having listened to a word I said. It just doesn't sink in does it? But
then, you never listened to 
anything we said, did you? You never were there to listen, were you?" 

"Hey, watch who you're calling  sensitive' there!" flared his father, as
he started forward, his 
fists clenched. 

" Right, big man, so sure of yourself, you have to beat the shit out of
anyone who is different, 
eh?  Cos you know, faggots are dangerous, aren't they? So what exactly is
it that you got to 
defend yourself from, Dad?  What are you so scared of? You mess around
when you were a kid 
and remember how good it felt? Is that it, Dad?" This was ugly, but in a
perverse sort of way, 
Ray was, well, not exactly *enjoying* it, but at least he was
feeling...exorcised might be the best 
word. 

The ghost dropped his hands, and leaned back against the wall. "It's  cos
you've been fucked 
around by that wife of yours, ain't it? Ya know, that's just one bad
experience -- lots more were 
she came from.  It ain't logical for you to assume that just  cos you
never had much luck with 
women, you're queer."  The ghost dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad
of cash. He peeled 
off a bill and held it out to Ray. " Here, here's twenty. Go down to Angel
Baby's, and tell them 
Carmine sent you.  They'll fix you up, ya know. Come on." He threw the
bill on the bed. 

"My God, you are a piece of work, aren't you? One good fuck, and that'll
straighten me out, 
right Pops?  Well, that ain't how it is, you know. When I want someone in
my bed, I want a man 
there, and it ain't  cos it didn't work out with Ange, and it ain't  cos I
wasn't able to find women 
to go out with. I love Benny and I hope he loves me, that's all that
matters." 

"Yeah, yeah, very touching, the two faggots love each other."His father's
ghost flapped his hand 
at the wrist. "That mountie, he's just out to use you, ya know.  Ya gotta
get your rocks off with 
him, get  em off, but don't let him get one over on you. He's using you,
mark my words." 

Ray looked away, disgusted.   "Well Pops, I got news for you, not everyone
thinks like you. And 
believe me, that can only be considered a very good thing." 

He wasn't sure what it was his father was driving at, but he was certain
that he would find out. 
Even though Ray knew the depths to which his father was capable of
sinking, he was still 
unprepared when the ghost said, "What I'm trying to tell you is, make him
bend over for you, but 
don't ..." 

A pure red rage swept over Ray, carrying with it any remaining
inhibitions.  All too clearly he 
was able to see what this whole song and dance was about, and he was
furious. The damn ghost 
should thank its lucky stars that it was dead already, or Ray would have
strangled it with his bare 
hands. Instead, he exacted his punishment verbally. "Don't get fucked.
Right?  Cos that's why 
you're here, isn't it? You're here to make sure that no one manages to put
his cock up my 
asshole, isn't that it? Like somehow that matters, like it's okay to fuck
a guy, but not to be 
fucked by one, right. Some ancient macho code of honour, that only you
stupid wops think 
makes sense. Well I gotta tell you, Daddy-o, you're too late. That cherry
got popped a long time 
ago, and tomorrow, when I finally get Benny into bed, I want his cock so
deep up my ass that I 
can taste it. Capiche?" 

As the rage left him, he couldn't believe what he had just said, not that
it wasn't true, but it was a 
bit crude even for Ray, even considering the way he had been provoked. On
the other hand it 
seemed to have shut his father up, at least temporarily.  And where was
he, Ray thought, looking 
around. The look of horror on his old man's face might be some minor
consolation for what he 
had just put Ray through, but he appeared to have vanished into thin air. 

"Thank God," Ray sighed aloud, "at least that's over." He shook his head,
trying to clear the fog 
that had settled on his brain during his conversation, if one could call
it that, with his father. He 
was appalled by the hatred he had seen on his father's face, by his
father's crass distinction 
between people who fuck and others who are fucked. He had seen that
distinction in others, in 
people he had come up against in his work, rapists, fag-bashers, and it
sickened him that his old 
man seemed to have been cut from the same cloth. 

*** 

The argument with his father had left him physically and emotionally
drained, not to mention 
considerably less aroused than when he had come up to bed. May as well get
some sleep, he 
thought and after a quick trip to the bathroom, he shed his robe and
underwear. Naked, he 
slipped between the covers of his bed and turned the light out.
Surprisingly, he fell asleep easily, 
but slept restlessly for the early part of the night.  His open
declaration of exactly what he hoped 
he and Benny would be doing tomorrow lodged itself in his subconscious and
shortly after 3 am 
he awakened, the flickering flames in his groin once again a raging
inferno. 

Sleep warm and groggy, he shifted against the cool cotton sheets, not sure
whether he was awake 
or dreaming, the only thing clear was the ache in his groin, and his
desire to plunge back into 
sleep.  Still fuzzy, he remembered snatches of the dream from which he had
just awoken, 
fragments displaced in dream-time, dream-sequence -- he and Benny, naked,
on the couch, his 
hand on Benny's cock, stroking, soft skin, slick with evidence of Benny's
desire, velvety 
softness of Benny's mouth on his cock, the feel of his hair under Ray's
hands, sweet desire 
burning in his groin,  now they were in Ray's bed, Benny's body covering
Ray as he lay face 
down, the warmth of Benny's skin, the feeling of fullness as Benny pushed
agonizingly slowly 
into Ray, warm and safe, now Ray filling Benny, rocking into him, their
desire synchronizing 
their movements, Ray's hands grasping Benny's buttocks, swallowing Benny's
cock, hands 
every where and nowhere, feather light touches. 

Ray groaned as he lay face down, his erection trapped between his belly
and the bed, his hips 
moving rhythmically, pressing his erection along the too smooth sheet, the
sense of loss 
accompanying the realization that he was alone in his bed fading as he
became caught up in the 
stream of that age old need for climax. He grabbed his robe from beside
the bed and jammed it 
between his belly and the bed, the rough terry cloth more stimulating than
the sheet, the bunched 
robe satisfying his need to feel something, anything under his erection.
The speed of his hips' 
thrusts increased, the rough cloth surrounding his very sensitive cock,
every fibre of the fabric 
drawing a response as it provided the necessary friction. Ray's fingers
grasped the sheet, pulling 
it up, his knuckles white.  He could think of nothing except the need for
release, and the way in 
which Benny had said,  I want to make love with you'. The phrase,
repeating it self in his mind, 
was on Ray's lips as he finally came, the tempo of his thrusts short and
sharp, his semen soaking 
into the robe. 

*** 

Ben woke early, the morning sun just starting to splash itself across the
foot of the bed.  It looked 
like a beautiful day, with none of the hazy humidity of the previous day,
a rain-washed day, 
scrubbed clean by the rainstorm that had happened during the night. Still
lying on his back, Ben 
stretched, his body felt rested and alive to the sensations around him. 
He would have to get up 
soon, he thought, but he was enjoying just being at the moment, revelling
in the cool morning 
air, the sunshine, the smell of fresh cut grass wafting through the
window. Revelling also in 
anticipation of what this day, this glorious day, would bring. He shivered
a little, recalling the 
events of the previous evening, the way Ray's body had felt, the hardness
of his erection as they 
had lain together on the chesterfield, the warmth of his mouth. He closed
his eyes, only briefly, 
he thought, the better to concentrate his thoughts. The next thing he
knew, Ray was knocking 
gently at the door, calling softly, "Benny, time to rise and shine, my
love," and the sun had 
worked its way up the bed, until it formed a bright grid over Ben's body.
His heart soared at 
Ray's morning greeting, *my love*. 

"Come in, Ray," he said in response, sitting up, the warm morning sun
caressing his form.  Ray 
caught sight of Benny sitting on the bed, sleep warm and lovely, dark hair
tousled,  a white sheet 
draped over his groin, the sun gilding his naked perfection, and found
himself unable to speak, 
unable to even catch his breath. "Good morning, Ray," Benny smiled at him,
the smile of angels, 
fallen and otherwise, and Ray felt his pulse race, his heart attempting to
beat its way out of his 
chest and into Benny's hands.  "Ray? Is everything alright, Ray?" Benny
leaned forward, 
alarmed at Ray's unusual silence, and started to get up. 

Ray really wanted to say  You are perfect and I can't believe that I, Ray
Vecchio, could have 
ever done anything to deserve to have this perfection,' but he didn't, he
couldn't. Instead, he 
moved toward Benny, who, having stood up, had lost the decorous covering
of the sheet, and 
took him in his arms. Benny's arms came around Ray's torso, and locked in
an embrace that 
seemed to go on forever, they pressed their lips together, their bodies
together. 

Coming up for air, Ray was finally able to speak, "It's okay Benny,
everything is perfect. 
Everything is just fine. I only needed to touch you so that I could
convince myself that this 
wasn't a dream, ya know?" 

Ben nodded and thought that the dreams were but a pale imitation of the
reality he was currently 
experiencing.  His own dreams had only hinted at the sort of joy he had
felt when Ray walked 
into the room, the way his heart had swelled, the sweetness in his chest
threatening to overwhelm 
all other feeling.  He stroked Ray's back with his hands, the silk of the
short sleeved shirt 
rippling like water under his fingertips, Ray's muscles taut under his
touch. 

Gently, Ray disengaged himself from Benny's embrace, and said softly in
his ear, "I think you 
need to get some clothes on and we need to get out of here before Franny
walks in on us." 

Benny chuckled, and added, "Particularly since you didn't bother to shut
the door behind you." 

Ray laughed, "Well, if you want proper guest-room etiquette you shouldn't
look so damn sexy!" 
He planted quick chaste kiss on Benny's pliant lips and left the room,
carefully shutting 
the door behind him. 

*** 

Half an hour later Ray and Ben were finally on the road, the Riv spinning
them away toward 
only Ray knew where.  Ben had managed to get dressed without further
interference from Ray. 
When he came down the stairs wearing a clean white T-shirt, worn blue
jeans and carrying a 
flannel shirt, Ray had wolf-whistled and shook his head. Ben, worried, had
asked if he was 
dressed appropriately, and Ray had replied that he looked great and that
he, Ray, would get a bit 
of early practice at playing the jealous lover where they were going.  Ben
had looked curiously at 
Ray, wondering where exactly Ray was planning to take them, but was soon
sidetracked by 
Ray's warm kisses.  Eating breakfast had proved to be an interesting
sensual experience.  They 
had ended up feeding each other toast and exchanging buttery kisses. It
was only when they had 
heard Franny stirring upstairs that they had been able to drag themselves
apart long enough to 
clear away their breakfast things and make their way into the car. 

Now in the car, Ben was enjoying the unparalleled joys of being able to
watch Ray to his heart's 
content.  Ray drove with a competence (regardless of minor traffic
infractions, Ben allowed) that 
took Ben's breath away. His gaze was firmly fixed on the road, and he
handled the Riv with a 
confidence born of long practice.  Ben's eyes drank in his lover, ranging
freely over his features, 
resting now on his lips, the lips that had covered his own with such
passion, moving now to his 
eyes, his neck, his perfectly formed ear, pink and shell-like. He had run
his tongue around that 
ear last night, and Ray had moved under him, his body begging for release.
Ben's own arousal 
awoke, stimulated by the memory, and he shifted in his seat. Perhaps
wearing the jeans wasn't 
the best idea. They did fit rather snugly about the crotch, and under the
circumstances, there 
would be little doubt of Ben's intentions were his thoughts to continue
along their current 
course.  Perhaps some conversation would take his...ah...mind off thoughts
that were better 
savoured in the safety of one's bedroom.  "Ray, where exactly are we
going?"  Ben knew that 
they had circled down toward the lake but as he had rarely been in this
part of Chicago, he 
couldn't even make an educated guess at where Ray was headed. 
  
Ray flashed him a quick grin, eyes sparkling with barely suppressed glee.
"We're going to 
continue your education Benny, but in a more conducive setting." 

Ben's mind scurried over the possibilities for his advancing his studies
from the night before, 
and moaned slightly, "Is this a public place, Ray?" He asked with some
trepidation. 

Ray laughed out loud, "Gawd, Benny. Get yer mind out of the gutter. *That*
education will 
come later. No, I meant, your baseball education." 

"Oh, of course, Ray. I don't know what I was thinking of." He slid his
eyes sideways at Ray, 
making sure that Ray knew that he was pulling his leg. 

"I'm sure you don't, Benny, I'm sure you don't." Ray laughed softly.  One
of the biggest 
surprises Ray had had over the last few hours was discovering a playful,
teasing Benny that he 
would have not predicted prior to last night. The existence of this Benny,
joyous, shy, and slyly 
provocative pleased him very much. It was almost as though the Benny that
had existed only in 
sepia tones (red serge to the contrary) had been replaced by a
technicolour Benny, a blossoming 
that caused Ray's spirits to soar.  He had always felt that Benny had only
been partially present 
in this world. Not that he wasn't fully here mentally, though sometimes
Ray thought, he had felt 
that he had cause to wonder; rather it was as though Benny had been
emotionally sleepwalking 
through life.  Part of it clearly had something to do with his father's
death, and certainly, and 
Ray did not want to think about this, part of it was that whole fiasco
with Victoria, but there was 
more to it than that, Ray was sure.  What ever it was, Benny, all parts of
Benny, appeared to have 
woken up with a vengeance, and Ray, for one, was thankful. 

"Ray, as I understand it, we are going to be attending a baseball game. Is
that correct?" Ben 
looked at Ray speculatively. Ray nodded, eyes fixed on the road. Ben
wasn't sure about this 
plan.  Baseball last night had been a necessary evil, as it were. Baseball
this morning, on the 
other hand, seemed to be Ray taking advantage of the situation. Still, he
certainly owed Ray for 
that pick-up hockey game he had inveigled him into with Mike Smithbauer,
and it was a lovely 
day. "I take it that this will be baseball in it's natural state: baseball
as it was meant to be 
played?" 

"Yeah, Benny. I wanted to show you why baseball is so great, and I
couldn't have thought of a 
better way of showing you than this, if I do say so myself."  Ben had to
smile. Ray looked so 
very pleased with himself, Ben felt drawn in by his enthusiasm and was
actually looking forward 
to the morning's activities.  "And, Benny, I did say that I had someone I
wanted you to meet too, 
and he will be playing this morning.  Sort of killing two birds with one
stone." 

"Can I ask who this mystery person is, Ray?" Ben asked, curious. 

"You can ask, Benny, but I ain't saying nothing, just yet. You'll see when
we get there." He 
smiled smugly.  Benny was getting ready to launch into another series of
questions, and Ray 
toyed with trying to make Benny a little bit jealous, but decided that
would be taking teasing a 
bit far. 

"Ray..." 

"No, Benny, no more questions about the mystery person. Besides, we're
almost there now 
anyway."  Ray swung the Riv off the four lane road and into a smaller
street leading out to a 
greenbelt area. They crunched into a gravel parking lot and parked next to
a slightly rusty red 
pick-up truck with a rainbow triangle sticker on the corner of the
windscreen. The lot wasn't full, 
but there were a fair number of vehicles there, and several of them seemed
to be disgorging men 
or women dressed in baseball uniforms carrying athletic bags, bats, gloves
and other 
paraphernalia. The uniforms had the names of sponsoring establishments on
the back over the 
numbers, many of which, Ben noted, seemed to be bars or restaurants,
though a couple of women 
were wearing lavender uniforms that had been apparently been sponsored by
something called 
Ten Percent Travel. 

Ray was already out of the car, and before Ben had extricated himself from
the seat belt, let 
alone opened the door, Ray had joined a small group of men, all wearing
neon pink uniforms 
with the words Lacey's Bar and Grill on the back. They were evidently very
pleased to see him. 
Perhaps, Ben thought, watching one of the men pull Ray into a full body
hug, just a little too 
pleased to see him.  This minor flare of jealousy, though no, he thought,
not jealousy, anxiety? 
concern? surprised him. He had never considered himself to be a possessive
person, yet here he 
was discomfited by seeing Ray interact with other men, men who were
clearly gay and quite 
possibly sexually interested in him. On the other hand, he allowed, Ray's
attentions had been 
nothing if not forthright and clear, and, unless he was greatly mistaken,
he had to prepare himself 
for the fact that Ray would have had other lovers in the past. He would
just have to let that little 
jealous flare die a natural death, and trust to the future. Besides,
thinking of the last two years, 
particularly that dreadful time during and immediately after Victoria's
headlong rush through his 
life, he knew that he should be glad if there had been someone there to
comfort Ray. 

Ray was engaged in an animated conversation with two of the men, while
others from the group 
drifted away, carrying their kit.  Ben stood up, and automatically turned
to release the seat so that 
Dief was able to hop out.  When he turned back, Ray was beckoning him to
come and join him 
with expansive arm gestures saying, "Benny, com'ere and meet two of my
friends, Scott and 
Stephen." 

Ben met up with the trio and while Ray effected introductions, Ben
extended his hand to Scott, a 
tall, red-haired man with very blue eyes and a scattering of old acne
scars on his cheeks. His long 
limbed form looked fit and he held himself with the sort of presence that
suggests someone who 
is comfortable in his body. He then shook hands with Stephen, who was more
compact, and had 
blond hair, which he kept tossing out of his eyes.  His face was almost
cat-like, high cheek-bones 
tapering to a pointed chin. Stephen was the man who had hugged Ray, and
Ray still had one arm 
around the small of Stephen's back as he explained to Ben that Scott and
Stephen had just told 
him that they were going to have a commitment ceremony next month.  While
Ben's mouth 
made all the right noises about congratulations, his right hand, almost of
its own volition, 
reached out and casually claimed Ray's left one. Ray turned to him and his
smile could have lit 
the Chicago skyline; it certainly lit up Ben's heart, and before they knew
it, they were kissing. 

Stephen nudged Scott, and rolling his eyes, pointedly said, "Young love."
Scott drew Stephen 
away from the pair, and said quietly, but loud enough for Ray and Ben to
hear, "Ain't it grand! 
Enjoy boys. Maybe we'll see you after the game, and maybe we won't. Wink,
wink, nudge 
nudge." 

When they broke from their kiss, Ray looked at Ben and said, "I love it
when you are jealous." 

"I'm not jealous, Ray. I just ..." Ben trailed off, not quite sure how to
phrase the next part of his 
explanation. 

"You're not jealous, but ..." Ray prompted, grinning wickedly. 

"I'm not jealous but I seem to want you all to myself at the moment. It's
like I am greedy for 
you, and I can't get enough." Ben thought that he had managed to get to
the heart of the matter, 
and he realized that he didn't mind that Ray had other friends, and that
he had had other lovers. 
This realization came as a relief to him, because he wanted to share Ray's
life completely, and 
certainly didn't want to deprive Ray of what seemed to be a congenial
social circle.  He briefly 
wondered how Ray had met these people, and how long he had known them. One
thing was 
obvious, Ray was a whole lot more comfortable with the "gay factor" than
Ben could have 
imagined. 

*** 
  
Walking across the mowed grass to a series of baseball diamonds, it was
Ray's turn to be 
jealous. As he had predicted, Benny made a very positive impression on the
other men in the 
park. Most of the time, Ray noted, it was just the old eyeball cruise, but
on one or two occasions 
there was the odd comment, mostly of the sort of arch banter that he had
very little time for. If 
one more person muttered, "My, aren't we butch!" Ray was going to pistol
whip someone. Of 
course, he had to laugh at Benny.  Didn't matter if it was men or women,
Benny just didn't get it. 
He didn't even notice it most of the time, and the first time some one had
used the butch line, 
Ray had had to stop Benny from attempting to point out that he was Benton
and not Butch. On 
the other hand, it gratified Ray that he was so clearly the envy of so
many of the men there, and, 
this  was much more important, that Benny had eyes for no one but Ray. 

They finally reached a diamond where the neon pink squad was taking
infield practice. Ray 
expertly steered Ben to a small set of bleachers made of about four ranks
of weather worn planks 
and metal piping badly in need of rust paint. Ben noticed that there was a
large variety of dogs 
on the sidelines, attached to leashes, running free, tethered to lawn
chairs.  No sign of Dief near 
the diamonds, but then Ben had noted a chip truck parked between the
wading pool and the 
baseball diamonds, and assumed, correctly, that Dief would have staked a
claim somewhere near 
the source of all junk food.  Ray selected an unoccupied section of the
front row and they sat 
down. Clearly Ray knew many of the Lacey's team, and several waved at him.
Ben noticed that 
Stephen was occupying the area between second and third base while Scott
was busily swinging 
about four bats back and forth. 

Ray had been chatting about the importance of getting the infield properly
warmed up and the 
problems associated with right-handed versus left-handed pitchers, or as
Ray called them, south-paws.  Ben decided that it was time to stop making
facilitating remarks and to redirect the 
conversation along more interesting lines. He decided that he might be
able to achieve this end 
by asking about the league, and then to expand the conversation to include
other aspects of what 
he had now rephrased as Ray's gay existence.   "Ray, it is clear from the
names of the sponsors 
that many of the teams playing have strong ties to the Chicago gay and
lesbian community, but is 
this a gay and lesbian league, or do other teams play here as well?" 

"Well, this is mostly a lesbian and gay league. Oh, there are the
occasional straight players who 
hang out with this crowd, but most of the people playing are gay.  The
league started up a few 
years ago, and now there are enough teams to make it interesting.  Mostly
it's just a beer league 
format, but now there are a couple of gay teams that are playing in the
large city league.  Lotta 
these guys, though," he nodded at the field, "don't want the hassle of
playing in a mixed 
straight/gay league -- they figure they don't need the macho shit, and who
can blame'em?" 

"And so these businesses, Lacey's Bar and Grille, Ten Percent Travel, Pita
Pan -- they sponsor 
the various teams?" 

Ray nodded. "Yeah, they put out the money for the shirts and maybe a pair
of colour co-ordinated socks and get the free advertising. Sometimes the
names they come up with just kill 
me. My personal favourite is the team Pita Pan's sponsors: the Pita
Pansies." Ray chuckled, and 
then continued his exposition on lesbian and gay baseball. "Everything
else is strictly volunteer 
run. The league more or less administers itself, and some years it works,
and others.." He 
waggled his hand, to indicate that sometimes the administration was a bit
iffy.  "On the whole, it 
seems to work. Stephen has been playing for four years now, and Scott was
one of the original 
organizers back in the early eighties. I started coming out here
occasionally, just to watch, last 
summer. The ball's not bad, and the company's great." 

Ben had so many questions. This was a whole different side of Ray and  he
needed to know more 
about it since it had become quite obvious in the last few minutes that
loving Ray was not just 
going to be staying in with Ray (and his groin, perking up at the thought
of what staying in with 
Ray might entail, reminded him just what staying in with Ray would lead
to) it was also going to 
mean going out with Ray, or was it *coming* out with Ray? Ben shook his
head a little, and 
reflected that both of those options should about cover it. Going out and
coming out.  He 
wondered why he hadn't thought through to this part of their relationship.
Probably, he thought 
wryly, because he hadn't expected any of this to work out the way it had.
Not that he would 
change an iota of the way it had turned out.  Perhaps, he mused, it was
because he had assumed 
that he and Ray would be exploring the cultural side of their life
together, and he seriously hoped 
that it would be a *lifetime* together, together as it were. 

"So how did you find out about this place?" 

"Well that's a long story, Benny. But the condensed version is that I met
some of these guys at 
Lacey's -- it's a sort of gay sports bar  -- you know, big screen TV, bar
food, cheap draft and 
they asked if I wanted to watch them play one Saturday, and the rest, as
they say, is history." 

Ray glanced up at the field, and stood up suddenly, waving as a couple of
men, also in Lacey's 
regalia, jogged up to the clump of players gathered around one of two
benches just behind a low 
chain-link fence. One of the men waved back, and Ray sat down again. After
a coin toss and 
consultation with the umpire, the two teams started play. Lacey's, having
lost the toss, were 
batting first, and while the other team was taking the field, the man who
had waved back at Ray 
came over towards them.   Ben could feel Ray's energy level increase, and
noted that his lover 
was somewhat more animated than he had been. Ah, he thought, this must be
the mystery man. 
Ray took a firmer grip on Ben's hand, and moved their locked hands to rest
on Ben's thigh.  Ben 
gently squeezed Ray's hand back, and risked a quick kiss on Ray's cheek. 

Now that he was closer, Ben could tell that the man had had extensive
facial surgery, which 
though excellent, could not disguise the fact that Ray's friend had had
very serious facial trauma 
at quite a young age, early adolescence, Ben suspected. Not that he wasn't
still an attractive man, 
just that there had clearly been some violence done to his face. Perhaps a
car accident, surely not 
burns, which would have left the underlying bone structure intact... Ben's
mind was ticking over 
busily, and Ray, evidently noticing this, gave Ben's hand a gentle shake.
Ben shot Ray a quick 
smile, and then his eyes went back to the approaching stranger. Good
stride, easy, self-confident 
walk, sturdy legs, the left one covered with a large bandage that
encompassed a good portion of 
the thigh, grey eyes, a good deal of intelligence in them, dark brown
hair, clubbed back into a 
pony tail.  He looked happy to see Ray and was smiling broadly when Ray
and Ben stood up to 
greet him. He enfolded Ray in a huge hug, and Ben was able to see just how
tall this man was: 6' 
6" at least. Ray looked dwarfed in his arms. 

Releasing Ray, the man turned to Ben and took Ben's extended hand in his,
saying "You must be 
Benton Fraser. I have heard so much about you from Ray." Ray was about to
jump in and 
complete the introduction when the stranger said, "And I'm Marco Metrone."


"Ah, Ray's friend from junior high. Pleased to meet you, Marco." Ben shook
Marco's hand and 
looked at Ray, who was smiling broadly. Ben was intrigued.  He could make
some guesses as to 
why Ray wanted him to meet Marco, but wasn't exactly sure what was up.  He
had felt for the 
longest time that Ray's interaction with Zuko had marked an important
turning point in their 
relationship, and, unless he missed his guess completely, this had to be
part of the same 
constellation of events. They all sat back down on the bench, and Ray slid
his arm around Ben, 
tucking his fingers into the back of Ben's jeans.  Ben liked the feeling
of this minor possession, 
and rested his hand on Ray's thigh. 

"Aren't you playing today Marco?" Ray asked. 

"Yeah, it's just that I'm well down in the rotation and I thought that I
would come over to say 
 Hi' before I had to go and do my fielderly duty.  Not that I would mind
skipping today." He 
gestured at his thigh. "I took a hell of a spill yesterday on the bike and
have a serious case of 
road-rash.  Though that didn't stop my sweetie from bouncing me out of bed
this morning to 
come and play soft-ball. He didn't want to take the chance that we would
have had to forfeit the 
game if we didn't show." He glanced over at the bench, where the stocky
black man he had 
arrived with sat happily joking with the rest of the Lacey's players. 

"So you don't really care for baseball, Marco?" Ben asked, carefully
concealing his own ... 
distain, perhaps, for the game, just in case Marco proved to be an
aficionado. 

"Hell, no." Marco said with feeling. "It's sort of like fishing.  Nothing
ever happens, and of 
course, I understand that that's not the point of the game anyway; but it
still seems to me that 
there are better ways of wasting time." 

Ray seemed to be taking Marco's criticism of baseball in his stride, but
added, chuckling, "I'll 
grant you that there are better ways of wasting time indoors, but
outdoors, on a fine morning, I 
don't think you can beat it." 

"Yeah, well that might be Ray, but I notice you're not playing." Marco
laughed. "You play, 
Ben?" he asked. 

"No, I'm afraid not." Ben responded, pleased to have found someone who
agreed with him about 
baseball. "I play hockey, and I curl." He couldn't help himself from
sliding in a little joke on 
Ray. 

Marco nodded. "I haven't curled in years." 

Ray's head whipped around at Marco, clearly suspecting some sort of
curling conspiracy, 
"What? You? Curl?" 

Marco nodded and continued, "I did my undergrad at the University of
Wisconsin. The biology 
department used to run an intermural thing in the winter, sometimes we'd
do a little tournament 
with the aggies. It was mostly just hacking around, you know. Of course,
it was really the apres 
curl that they were interested in, that lot." 

He laughed, clearly retaining fond memories of curling and Ben was
pleased. Perhaps if Ray 
could be convinced....No, better not push things, yet. Still, there must
be a curling league in a 
city the size of Chicago and perhaps Marco could be convinced to bring
pressure to bear on his 
partner as well. Marco's question intruded on Ben's plans to make Ray
learn to curl. "So where 
did you curl, Ben?" 

"Mostly with the RCMP, when I was in Regina for training, and then all
over the place. I found 
it an invaluable way of becoming part of the community, especially in
smaller towns and 
villages." 

"It's  cos there isn't anything else to do up there." Ray was bent on
getting a bit of his own back, 
and Ben could tell that this was pay-back for the curling digression.
Still, he couldn't let Ray's 
aspersions go unchallenged. 

"Well, Ray, you know that's not exactly true. And besides, the arena,
usually housing the town's 
curling club and a hockey rink, is the heart and soul of many of these
communities. In a lot of 
ways these structures, and by that I mean both the physical building and
the social structure that 
is generated by these interactions, these structures are equivalent to say
the town pump in earlier 
times. A similar, but not identical, structure would be the feed store or
Co-op which has long ..." 
Ray threw his hands in the air 

"Benny, I give up. I will never make fun of curling or the north again.
Just don't get started on 
the social structure of feed-stores. Okay?" 

"Understood, Ray." Ben was having a hard time keeping from laughing.  He
noticed that Marco 
was looking somewhat puzzled by their interaction. 

Ray evidently noticed this as well, and attempted to reassure him by
explaining, "It's okay. He 
always talks like that. It's a Canadian thing, ya know?" He continued,
directing his remarks to 
Marco, but sliding his arm back around Ben. "But I've gotten wise to him,
ya know. I think he 
does it sometimes just to get me going." 

"That's just silly, Ray." 

Marco joined in with their laughter, and cast a glance at the field.  Ben
decided that it might be 
prudent to bring the conversation back to baseball and Marco, and asked
Marco what position he 
played. Ray started to giggle, and both Ben and Marco looked at him
curiously. 

"Left field." Marco replied. "What are you laughing at Ray?" 

"Nothing." Ray said, having recovered somewhat. 

"Don't you find it boring out in left field, with no balls to catch?" Ben
asked ingenuously. 

Ray's self control seemed to be slipping again, but Marco answered the
question frankly. "Yeah, 
a bit. But if you know about me and Zuko, you understand that I really
don't need anything 
round and hard coming near enough me to do any damage.  And I certainly
don't want anything 
happening to my hands." 

"Marco's a surgeon." Ray explained. 

Ben nodded. "So why do you play at all?" 

"I like the social aspect of it. It's the only team sport I do play. Took
me 15 years even to 
consider playing left field in a queer beer league. I like my sports to be
strictly me against the 
clock.  Triathlon, some bike racing." He paused, lost in thought, and then
continued, "Ironic isn't 
it.  If Frankie Zuko had known what I was going to end up doing for a
career, he would have 
fucked up my hands instead of my face.   Cept guys like Zuko never figure
out that anyone 
besides themselves have lives and potential." 

"Zuko never gave much thought to anyone but himself. Still doesn't." Ray
remarked. 

"But the toad beneath the harrow knows where every point goes." Ben
thought that the 
connection was obvious, but both Marco and Ray looked at him as though he
had come from, 
well, left field. 

"This doesn't have anything to do with ancient Eskimo proverbs, does it
Grasshopper." 

Sometimes Ray could be quite obtuse. Ben sighed and attempted to explain.
"It's just another 
way of saying that in any established power relationship, the individual
with power, the 
oppressor as it were, has the luxury, if you want to call it that, of 
knowing little or nothing of the 
lives of those he, or I suppose, she, oppresses. The oppressed, in order
to survive, must know and 
understand everything about the oppressor because, in many cases,  his or
her life depends on it. 
Hence the toad and harrow analogy." He hoped that would clear up any
confusion. 

Marco nodded and then asked, "You study philosophy?" 

"I've read some, but no, I didn't need a book to work that out.  It comes
from having lived 
amongst a people for whom the whims of a government, and specifically
individuals within that 
government, have meant literally life and death." 

"You're not talking about the Canadian Government, are you." Ray looked
surprised. 

"Well, yes, I am, Ray. Our past record is not completely unblemished, you
know. Especially 
when it comes to the native peoples, Canada's practical responses have
been substantially at 
odds with our stated humanitarian principles. Just look at the residential
schools issue, to say 
nothing of lack of opportunities for native self-government, or even the
way that the recent 
Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples has been buried by our
government."  There was a 
pause, while the three considered the residential schools and other
issues. 

Or at least, Ben assumed the other two were considering it. This was an
area in which he had 
gone to some lengths to try to exorcise his conscience, and he had finally
achieved an uneasy 
truce. Certainly while he had been living in the territories he had felt
that he was able to do much 
to put right some of the wrongs his government had historically colluded
in; in Chicago, on the 
other hand, it was somewhat more difficult to have the sort of hands-on
restitution that he had 
been used to. Part of his bargain with his soul had been modified, so that
he would attempt to, 
when ever possible, enhance an understanding of Canada's north and the
people who 
traditionally inhabited it, through stories and anecdotes. He wasn't
completely sure how well it 
was working so far, but he felt that, in addition to sending weekly
letters to the Prime Minister 
urging a more responsible attitude toward native peoples, by acting as a
one man Inuit 
information bureau he was doing as much as possible, under the
circumstances. 

*** 

A shout from the Lacey bench broke the spell that seemed to hold the three
men silent for a 
moment. Marco stood to go, and Ray couldn't help himself from saying,
albeit in a more than 
slightly teasing manner, "See Benny, you get all heavy at a baseball game,
everyone leaves, and 
we get left alone." 

Marco laughed and, leering just a little, said, "I think that you two
*need* to be alone for a 
while."He continued, "On the other hand, when you feel like you wouldn't
mind some company, 
I'm issuing a supper invitation.  I think that Ben and Cecil will have
lots to talk about. See you 
later, duty calls." 

"Ray, you don't think that my..." Benny asked somewhat apprehensively. 

Ray laughed when he heard the slightly plaintive tone in Benny's voice and
shook his head. 
"Naw, Benny. Don't worry about it. I was just raggin' ya. The inning's
over and Marco's gotta 
go man left field." He hugged Benny close, and kissed firmly him on the
lips. Benny returned the 
kiss with full attention to detail; more precisely, the detail that
involved as close a contact with 
Ray as was possible. They broke the kiss after some cat-calls from further
up in the bleachers, 
and someone calling out, "Call the fire department, I think they're going
to ignite." and someone 
else replying, "Well, seeing as you *are* a fireman, Phil, you should be
able to handle it." 

The assembled men laughed, and Phil was starting to say something about
exactly what it was he 
wanted to handle when Ray turned to him and said, "Whatsa matter Phil,
this been a dry 
summer?" 

Benny had turned a bright scarlet, a look Ray thought was particularly
sexy, but stalwartly was 
trying to point out that the summer, though hot, had had, to this point at
least, more than average 
rainfall.  Ray derailed this climatic disquisition by the simple expedient
of covering Benny's lips 
with his own again.  Interrupted in full flight, as it were, Benny's lips
were parted, and Ray, 
unable to resist, slid his tongue into Benny's warm mouth. Benny groaned,
and deepened the 
kiss, pushing his tongue forward to meet and mate with Ray's. The guys on
the bleachers 
stomped their feet and someone wolf-whistled. Ray reached around behind
Benny's back and 
silently gave their attentive audience the finger. This only encouraged
more cat-calls and finally, 
breaking their lip-lock, Ray said, "Whyn't you pervs watch some baseball."


Ray didn't give a damn who watched them kiss, or that the guys watching
were ribbing them in a 
good-natured if somewhat crude way; he was worried, however, that it would
make Benny 
embarrassed and worse, might make him feel that Ray was somehow putting
him on display. 
And Ray certainly didn't want Benny to think that. Part of the reason he
had brought them to the 
game was that he thought that if they were in a public place, they might
be able to keep their 
hands off each other. It didn't seem to be working that well at the
moment. At least it was a gay 
environment. He could just imagine going shopping with Benny if they
didn't get this under 
control: Benny bending over the meat counter to check the best before
stamps, and Ray unable to 
resist, humping him right there in front of the alarmed Petit's Farm
Market customers.  Not that 
those sorts of thoughts helped the current problem any, he allowed, his
erection starting to feel a 
little uncomfortable. 

Of course, Benny hadn't pulled away from Ray's lips, and Ray could see
that Benny's blush was 
starting to fade, and a faint beading of sweat had broken out along his
upper lip. Ray could 
hardly think for wanting to lick that sweat off Benny's upper lip, run his
tongue just there, 
following the little indentations, then sweeping along the perfect bow of
those perfect lips. Oh 
Christ, Ray moaned softly to himself, this was the stupidest idea.  Why
hadn't he just driven 
straight (ahem) to the nearest cheap motel and checked them in this
morning. Right now, thanks 
to that film of sweat along Benny's upper lip, he wouldn't even be able to
stand up without 
humiliating himself. And, unless he missed his guess, given the vigour
with which Benny had 
returned his kisses, he was going to be in exactly the same position as
Ray. 

In spite of his blush, Ben was more amused than angered by the predicament
he and Ray found 
themselves in. He realized that Ray would get upset if the teasing went on
too long, and being an 
expert Ray teaser, in his own way, he also knew that Ray was getting close
to the point when he 
could reliably be counted on to explode into, at the very least, sarcasm
and bad language.  Ben 
would have to act quickly to defuse the situation.  He turned his best
bland Mountie countenance 
upon the assembled hecklers and smiled. "Gentlemen," he began, somewhat
formally for a 
baseball game, he realized, but then, a certain formality had almost
always worked in past when 
he had needed to control a situation. Ray, who had other ideas about
formality and baseball, 
hissed in his ear, "What the hell are you doing, Benny?" 

Ben just smiled and continued "Gentlemen. Thank you for your warm
reception. But as you can 
see, while my companion and I were otherwise engaged, I am afraid that we
lost track of the 
game. I was wondering if any of you could tell us the score." Several
scores were called out, 
some differing quite widely, five runs in one case and a general
discussion ensued. Given that 
several supporters for the Lacey's team were seated right next to the Pita
Pan crowd which had 
been bantering with Ray and Ben, that discussion was proving to be quite
lively. The focus off 
their actions, Ben allowed himself a little sigh of relief. He felt Ray
start to relax, and reached 
over to stroke Ray's hand as it lay on his thigh. 

Ray brought his lips close to Ben's ear and whispered raggedly, "Gawd,
Benny. All you have to 
do is touch me and I get hard." 

Ben's own groin responded to the need in Ray's voice and he turned
slightly to face Ray. Being 
careful not to let his lips get within the magnetic field that Ray's
seemed to emit, he nodded and 
said, "If it's any consolation Ray, you appear to have the same effect on
me." He carefully 
brushed his fingertips along Ray's temple. 

"They didn't mean any harm, Benny." Ray said somewhat anxiously. 

Ben nodded again. "I know, Ray. But if I may make a suggestion, we might
want to consider 
moving during the next flurry of activity." Even he, or perhaps,
especially he, could not have 
mistaken the good-natured intent behind the ribald joking; yet this did
not mean that he had any 
desire for a quick repeat of their previous encounter. 

"Good thinking, Bat-boy." Ray grinned at him. 

"Ray, is that another baseball expression?" Ben asked. Ray just groaned,
shaking his head, 
refusing to get conned into another cultural difference conversation. 

*** 

Fortunately, they were able to sneak off almost immediately. The Pansies
scored two runs off a 
double to right field, and while everyone's attention was focussed on the
field, Ray stood up 
quickly, grabbed Ben's hand and whisked them off along the edge of the
diamond. The park had 
many shady quiet places, in addition to the playing fields and play areas,
and Ray led them to a 
fairly private pathway adjacent to a small ornamental lake. 

"Well Benny," he said, changing the subject, "What did you think of
Marco?" 

"He seems like a very intelligent man, Ray. When did you get back in touch
with him? Because, 
as I recall, at the time of the thing with Zuko, you didn't know what had
become of him."  Ben 
instinctively suspected that this was the conversation Ray had brought him
out here to have; a 
conversation that he was in full agreement needed to happen. 

"Well, you remember when all that stuff went down with Zuko, how I finally
got wise and stood 
up to the bastard?" Ben nodded. He could have hardly forgotten it; he had
worried for months 
afterward for Ray's safety. "I got to thinkin' about my own responses to
Zuko, and how I had 
felt when he did that to Marco, and seeing what he did to you, what he was
going to do to 
Paducci -- I just snapped, ya know? I knew I couldn't live with myself if
I stood by again. I knew 
that night in the cafeteria that I loved you, but I couldn't seem to put
the pieces together. I didn't 
want to face it." 

He looked at Ben, his eyes moist.  Ben murmured facilitating noises, and
squeezed  Ray's hand. 
He knew that this must have been an extraordinarily difficult time for
Ray. 

"I started to wonder about how I felt toward Marco, and why I had
abandoned him,  cos, I knew 
that part of it was just that I was scared to stand up to Zuko, but there
was something else there 
too, and I needed to get to the bottom of it.  It was hard, but I finally
realized that part of the 
reason I had been scared to stand up to Zuko was that I was worried that
he would think I was a 
fairy, ya know, sticking up for Marco, and then, I realized that yeah, I
had been attracted to 
Marco  -- he was funny, smart, just a nice guy, but I had just buried that
stuff. I mean, if you had 
had my dad..." he shook his head, remembering the scene last night. 

"Well, you can imagine. Plus the neighbourhood -- Catholic, mostly Italian
and Polish, -- they 
don't got time for  alternative lifestyles', which by the way, they called
queer, neither did the 
cops, at least when I joined up.  So I did a lot of denying, got married,
got divorced, let Ange 
think it was her fault.  Yeah, I was running so hard away from myself, I
couldn't see which way 
was up. Not a pretty picture, huh?" Ray swallowed hard. 

Ben wondered why it hadn't been like that for him, why he hadn't had
self-doubt that seared into 
his soul in the way that Ray was describing. Not that he hadn't
self-doubts, but maybe the 
difference had been that he had very early on in life had to be
self-reliant, and in being self-reliant, perhaps he had learned to trust
his own instincts about himself. Ray, because his sense of 
community had been such a fundamental aspect of how his existence was
defined, must 
necessarily have been placed in a situation where he would doubt himself
in the way that he had 
indicated. While Ben had often felt in awe of the community and family
ties that Ray had, he 
now reflected that those ties did not come without a cost. 

Ben looked tenderly at his lover and said, "I think that a world of
bullies, bigotry and 
homophobia is not a pretty picture, Ray. It might well have been suicidal
for you to have tried to 
deal with those issues at 14 or 15." 

"Yeah, well, be that as it may Benny, it still don't look so hot from
where I'm standin' right now. 
Any how, while I'm workin' through this stuff -- comin' out to myself
first and realizing that I'm 
attracted to you, that maybe I even *love* you, I also know I just gotta
find out what happened 
to Marco.  Kinda to put things right, or ask for his forgiveness.  I mean,
I knew that the guy 
ought to have told me to take a hike. After all, I stood there while Zuko
turned his face to mush, 
but still, it was like something I needed to do before I was free to go on
with the rest of my life. 
I dunno if this makes any sense, ya know. Probably at some psychological
level.  So, I track 
Marco down. Elaine helped a bit, found out he had an Illinois driver's
license and I got his 
address and phone number. I was so scared, dialling the phone. It was like
I was 14 again. So 
like he answers, and I introduce myself, and instead of slamming the phone
down in my ear, 
which personally, I wouldn't have blamed him for, he asks about what I'm
doing and stuff like 
that.  Then he asks me if I wanted to meet him for coffee and I say yes. 
Well, we just seemed to 
click again  -- as friends only  cos he was already living with Cecil, and
well, even if I knew I 
couldn't have you, I was still hoping." 

Ray grinned at Ben, who couldn't resist, and pointedly said, "And now that
you have me, what 
are you going to do with me?" 

"Shut up Benny, you're supposed to be helping here. Anyhow, after about
the third or fourth 
time we go out for a beer or coffee together, he asks me back to his
place.  And well, I guess I 
really didn't need the king-size bed to tell me that he and Cecil were
lovers, but it sure made it a 
little easier for me to come out to him.  So we finally put our cards on
the table, and we end up 
talking about what happened between me and him and Zuko. It really helped
me to see how he 
felt, and that he, well, that he had forgiven me a long time ago for what
had happened." 

"He's a very special person, Ray. I'm so glad that you had that support
there when you needed 
it." Ben was quickly thinking this through in terms of time frame.  It
must have been about the 
same time as his entanglement with Victoria. He knew that Ray had been
hurting then, but he 
hadn't been able to draw himself free from his own unfinished business. 

In retrospect, he realized that he had already fallen in love with Ray, a
fact that perhaps only his 
subconscious had been aware of. Nevertheless, he had felt the need to
effect some sort of 
completion between himself and Victoria, a closing of that chapter of his
life, a closing that he 
now realized was necessary for him to be able to get on with loving Ray.
His only mistake had 
been believing that he was able to control the situation. He sighed
inwardly. Perhaps that was the 
price of his being so self-reliant -- he had no reason to doubt his
instincts and so he was 
completely unprepared when everything went so wrong.  Sometimes a little
self-doubt was 
clearly indicated. On the other hand, maybe he too had been running away. 

"Yeah, Marco's been there for me for the last two years.  It helped that
he knew his way around 
the gay scene. He showed me the ropes, kept me from making an ass of
myself. But ya know, the 
most important thing was that I had someone I could talk to about you. 
You remember when I 
almost lost it with Frannie. Gawd, I was this close to kicking first her,
then you, and then her 
again.  You and your misplaced sense of honour, and her teasing the hell
out of me. It took me a 
long time to forgive either of you." He looked at Ben, speculatively.  "I
don't suppose...?" 

"You have my word, Ray, that it was not even a first base situation." Ben
responded. 

"Well, that's a relief." Ray laughed. The path they had been following
came to a small bridge 
which crossed a creek leading into the lake.  Instead of continuing along
the path, Ray steered 
them toward a copse of willows skirting the creek some distance from the
edge of the lake.  Here 
the willows bent low over the water, and the creek swelled into a little
pond, a rope dangling 
from one of the overhanging branches indicated the swimming hole potential
of the site. Ray and 
Ben sat side by side on the almost horizontal trunk of one of the trees,
the smoothness of the 
normally rough bark bearing silent testimony that they were not the first
to rest here. 

"But something she said about me being afraid of my dreams, or afraid to
dream, really struck 
home, and I started to put stuff together then. I realized that I didn't
really care, well, within 
reason, who Frannie was seeing, but it hit me like a ton of bricks that I
cared about who you 
were seeing.  It was after that that I figured out what had happened with
Marco and Zuko. 
Unfortunately, before I had worked up my nerve to tell you, well at least
to tell you I was gay, I 
mean, I'm not sure I would've had the nerve to tell you the other..." Ray
hesitated a little. 

Ben found it hard to resist teasing Ray just a little. "What other would
that be, Ray?" 

"That I loved ..." The penny dropped, and Ray grinned at Ben, who was
smiling his seraphic 
smile. "I told you, I'm on to you Benny.  You are not nearly as innocent
as you would like me to 
believe." 

"Well Ray, I know it's cheating, but I have my reasons: I just can't hear
you say  I love you' 
often enough. Besides, all's fair in love and war, or so they say." 

"Yeah, well, I guess that sums up the whole Victoria incident, doesn't
it." Ray's voice dropped, 
and Ben flinched at Ray's mention of Victoria.  On the other hand, Ray
deserved to know as 
much as Benny himself knew about that epidsode. 

Ray continued, "After all that happened, I mean, you, Victoria, you
leaving, me shooting you, I 
couldn't tell you. I didn't know how. I thought I had screwed everything
up, our friendship, 
particularly.  I didn't know nothin' about nothin' for a while there. It
was only when we were 
talking about your dad's cabin and  you said you had two axes, that I felt
there might be any 
hope of us being still friends." Ray stared out unseeingly at the pool of
water. 

"Ray... I ... I'm so sorry for what happened then." Ben knew that he would
have to try to explain 
what had happened, and gently took Ray's face in his hand and turned it so
that Ray was looking 
at him. "I need to try to explain it to you, but I'm not sure how to do
it." 

Ray reached out to run his finger over the back of the hand that was still
cupping his face. 
Taking Benny's hand in his, he said softly, "You don't need to explain
anything, Benny. All we 
need to worry about is what we have now." 

"No, Ray. I need to be honest with you about this, and, I guess, I need to
be honest with myself 
about it as well.  I think that part of what happened with Victoria was
that I too needed to 
achieve closure of one facet of my life before I began another one. You
see Ray, I think I must 
have already been falling in love with you when Victoria turned up in my
life again.  I suspect 
that I ended up transferring a lot of the feelings I was feeling for you
to her.   I mean, when she 
arrived in Chicago, I just assumed that the...ah...erotic feelings I was
having were caused by her 
arrival.  I convinced myself that I was in love with her, I mean it felt
like being in love, and I 
guess it was. Only it wasn't her I was in love with, it was you." 

"Oh, Christ, Benny, no." Ray could hardly look at Benny, his heart was
breaking all over again. 
"She used our relationship to do her dirty work for her, and I let her.
Finally, when I realized that 
I hadn't been in love with her at all, and that by misreading the
situation so badly I had placed 
you in such a vulnerable position, I just wanted to run away.  I felt ...
dirty, and ashamed of what 
I had done. Worse of all, I felt like you would never be able to love me
after what I had done, 
and that I didn't deserve to have your love.  I didn't need to forgive you
for shooting me.  At the 
time, it seemed like almost like a ritual cleansing. Either I was to
perish by your hand, or if I 
survived, I would be clean again, the Gods would have been appeased, and
we would be able to 
go on from there. You see, in the end, the shooting gave me hope, Ray. Of
course at first, all I 
wanted to do was die, and I was angry at you for not having shot
straighter, or for not letting me 
die on the platform." 

Ray leaned forward and covered Benny's lips with his own, his kiss the
only response he knew 
how to make to Benny's confession. 

When they separated, Ben said, "I love you, Ray.  I always have." 

"I love you too, Benny." 

*** 

Once again the distance between their lips closed. Before the kiss had a
chance to deepen, Ray 
pulled away. Ben looked at Ray's face, searching for the doubt he felt
might have accompanied 
his confession, but he found only Ray's eyes glowing greenly with love,
and, well, lust; Ray's 
lips moist from their kiss, parted ever so slightly; Ray's breath coming
in ragged gasps. 

Ben's concern at Ray's withdrawal must have been obvious, because Ray
rushed to reassure 
him, his voice husky, but steady. "Don't worry, Benny, I'm not going away.
Not ever, if I have 
anything to do with it. It's just that I don't think we should continue
kissing like that unless we 
are prepared to make love in those bushes over there. And you know, I
think I'm a little old for 
the fumbling around in the fresh air, not that it doesn't have its
attractions right now." And one 
of the chief attractions was the thought of finally, *finally*, getting
into Benny's pants. 

The little preview he had of Benny's not inconsiderable charms this
morning did nothing to 
dissuade him from the desirability of bending over a park bench and having
Benny fuck him 
right there in front of the ducks and the jesus freaks. His groin filled
with heat, his erection 
rubbing almost painfully against the cloth of his jockey shorts. If they
didn't actually fuck soon, 
he was going to embarrass himself and come in his pants, whimpering at
Benny's feet in a public 
place. 

Ben relaxed a bit, smiling at the thought of making love with Ray in a
public park at high noon 
on a summer Saturday.  It might prove interesting he thought, though in
his experience, al fresco 
love-making had some drawbacks. On the other hand, anything that would let
him run his hands 
all over, and he meant all over, Ray's body couldn't be all bad, and
besides, this little glade must 
be all but invisible from the main pathway. 

He envisioned Ray, in heavenly deshabille, sprawled on the grass, trousers
around his ankles, 
and himself running his tongue up the length of Ray's cock, savouring the
taste of Ray's pre-cum, swirling his tongue over the head of Ray's cock,
all the while watching Ray's reactions to 
his actions. Fraser's corollary to Newton's third law of motion. In true
love, for every action, 
there is an equally intense reaction. Only, the reaction at the moment was
an intensification of 
his arousal in a way that was rapidly becoming uncomfortable, his jeans
offering scant 
concealment for the burgeoning erection his momentary erotic lapse had
inspired. 

Ray's hot breath tickled Ben's neck, and in a hoarse whisper, Ray chanted,
"I know what you're 
thinking" in Ben's ear, while at the same time running the knuckle of his
index finger over the 
bulge in Ben's trousers. Ben gasped, unprepared for the intensity with
which Ray's rough caress 
transmitted itself to Ben's groin.  He moaned into Ray's neck, licking the
sweat trickling down 
behind Ray's perfect ear, biting the muscle running obliquely down Ray's
throat. 
  
Ray let his head roll backward, exposing his neck to Benny's eager kisses,
moaning softly as 
Benny licked and nipped his way down to the collar of Ray's shirt. Benny's
hands came forward, 
and started to unbutton Ray's shirt, his mouth still busily occupied with
exploring Ray's neck. 
Ray's own hands slid around Benny's waist, and pulled the white T-shirt
free from Benny's 
jeans.  Benny's skin was damp, sweat pooling along his spine and Ray drew
his fingers through 
it, lost in the feeling of Benny's skin, his fingers gliding along the
firm columns of muscle on 
either side of Benny's spine, massaging with his fingertips, carefully
drawing small circles with 
his nails. His pulse, thrumming to the beat of Benny's name over and over
again, threatened to 
overwhelm all thoughts except those of sensual abandon. Ray brought his
head forward, burying 
his nose in Benny's hair, kissing it, nuzzling the dark damp curls. The
soap smell mixed with 
Benny's own scent was intoxicating, and Ray filled his nostrils with it. 

Please, please let nothing stop them now, he prayed silently. As a police
officer, he knew 
rationally, (though what rationality had to do with this particular
situation, he was hard pressed 
to say), that making out in a public place, especially in broad daylight
was a criminal offence. 
Coupled with the fact that both of the participants are law enforcement
officers, he figured that 
whichever uniform bagged them would have a career on Geraldo or Jerry
Springer telling his or 
her story. Of course, rationality had nothing to do with this situation
and besides, he had a pretty 
good idea that no one would be by at this time of the day. It was too
early for the after lunch 
crowd, and it was too far from the parking lot for it to be attractive to
picnickers. Ray squirmed 
under Benny's mouth's ministrations, his breathing coming in ragged
bursts. 

It took all of his very scattered concentration to form the words, and
getting them to come out of 
his mouth in the order he had intended proved to be an even more difficult
task.  Still, he had to 
ask, to be sure. "Benny, if you don't want to make love now, we have to
stop. Otherwise, I am 
going to have no control over my actions." 
  

Ben had succeeded in getting Ray's shirt unbuttoned, and was running his
hands over Ray's 
chest, fingers skimming over Ray's sensitive abdomen, moving upward. 
Ben's hands pushed the 
shirt front back over Ray's shoulders, exposing his delicate collar bones,
his flat brown nipples, 
the soft olive skin of his belly. Ray's statement made his pulse race, he
wanted to make love 
now, right here, on this tree, on the grass. He drank in Ray's beauty, and
let his lips drift down 
until he could feel Ray's right nipple under them. He gently licked at the
tiny nub, sucking it in 
ever so slightly. Ray moaned, and Ben could feel Ray's nails scrape along
his spine. The nub 
grew firm beneath his lips, and just seemed to be crying out for a little
nibbling. Gently, ever so 
gently, Ben's teeth teased Ray's nipple, and were rewarded with the nub
increasing in size. 

Ben's senses were overwhelmed, the scent of Ray's arousal, the softness of
Ray's skin, the taste 
of the sweat slick nipple, rosy and hard beneath his lips. He finally
dragged his mouth from 
Ray's chest, and looking up at the man that he loved, whispered, "Oh yes,
let's make love now, 
Ray." the raw need eloquent in Ben's lust thickened voice. 

Ray felt himself lose all sense of bodily coherence at Benny's words; it
was as though his nerves 
had become cross-wired, and even the slightest touch on an otherwise
innocuous portion of skin 
blazed a trail to his groin. Of course, Benny's attentions to his nipples
hardly fell into the 
category of innocuous, and the signals his nervous system was receiving
ranked up there with 
major electrical surges.  He felt that his hands must be sort of
helplessly pawing at Benny's back, 
his neural network unable to cope with the notion of voluntary motion. 
Benny had shifted his 
oral attention to Ray's left nipple, while continuing the delightful
torture of the right nipple with 
his finger nails. 

Ray thought that he was going to come just from looking down and seeing
Benny's perfect lips 
around his nipple, pink tongue darting out to circle the erectile tissue,
licking it into life. He 
abandoned Benny's back, and used his hands to cradle Benny's head to his
chest.  He could feel 
Benny's right hand fumbled with the button at the top of Ray's pants. The
tension almost 
unbearable, Ray slid his hand down to help undo the clasp. Their fingers,
brushing accidently at 
the waistband of Ray's pants, lit off another surge of heat to Ray's
groin, a heat that spread 
upwards to his belly, and down the insides of his thighs.  His skin was
tingling with need, his 
cock straining to be released.  Slowly, ever so slowly, Benny slid the
zipper down, pressing 
firmly on Ray's swollen groin. Ray buried his face in the top of Benny's
curly head and moaned 
incoherently as Benny spread the cloth out of the way, revealing Ray's
erection, the damp spot 
on his jockey shorts indication the extent of Ray's desire. 

Sliding down to kneel between Ray's spread thighs Ben kept hold of Ray's
nipples with his 
fingers, gently rolling them between his finger tips, feeling their
responsiveness in his own groin. 
He brought his face level with Ray's cotton covered crotch, and then
leaned in, resting his cheek 
on the bulge made by Ray's cock.  Breathing in the scent of Ray's crotch,
warm, sweat slick and 
perfumed by the tang of Ray's pre-cum seemed to fuse this primitive sense
with an even more 
primative urge.  Ben wanted to devour Ray's groin, taste every inch of
that sweetness, lick clean 
every nook and cranny.  He moved his mouth closer to Ray's cock, and
exhaled through the 
knitted cotton, his hot breath infiltrating the fabric, reaching the
sensitive skin, causing Ray's 
cock to move involuntarily. 

Ray couldn't believe that Benny was kneeling between his thighs, his mouth
only millimetres 
from Ray's cock. Benny looked like a fallen angel, the sensual pleasure
writ large on his 
countenance warring with his austere beauty. Ray's moans became more
urgent, and he slid his 
thumbs under the waist band of his underwear, and in a single move,
shucked both underwear 
and trousers down his thighs as far as they would go. At the same time he
slid his butt off the 
tree and let his rubbery legs touch the ground, so that he was half
standing, half leaning against 
the tree.   Benny adjusted his position, so that his breath continued to
torment Ray's cock, and 
Ray moaned, "Benny. Gawd. Please...please, Benny, touch me." 

Ben brought one hand down and stroked Ray's cock, allowing his index
finger to dawdle over 
the sensitive tip, slipping easily over the pre-cum slicked surface. The
other hand meanwhile 
continued the delicious torment of Ray's nipples, plucking and teasing.
Ray grasped Ben's hair 
in his right hand, running his fingers through the dark curls and brought
his left hand to his own 
nipple, his actions mimicking Ben's. 

The sight of Ray pleasuring himself, playing with his nipple, tweaking up
the hardened point, 
left Ben weak with desire. Groaning, Ben shifted his grip on Ray's cock
downward to grasp 
Ray's full balls while his tongue experimentally ran along the full length
of Ray's erection. 
Ray's hips moved involuntarily forward, and the head of Ray's cock butted
up against Ben's 
lips.  Opening his lips, Ben carefully admitted the head of Ray's cock.
The taste of Ray's pre-cum awakened Ben's tastebuds, and he knew that he
had to have all that Ray had to offer, he had 
to taste and swallow all of Ray's desire. 

Ray watched as Benny took his cock into his mouth, past disbelief, past
caring about anything 
except the intimate contact between him and the man kneeling in front of
him.  The sight of his 
cock sliding into Benny's mouth was almost more than Ray could bear. He
could feel his balls 
start to tighten, the familiar ache that precedes release enveloping them,
Benny's mouth 
enveloping his cock. The only sound he could form with his lips was
Benny's name, and saying 
it over and over, like a mantra, Ray started to move against Benny's
mouth. 

Watchful of catching the delicate skin against his teeth, Ben worked as
much of Ray's erection 
into his mouth as he was able, silently cursing that he had never been
particularly adept at deep-throating, revelling in the taste and smell of
Ray.  Ray was starting to thrust in earnest with his 
hips, each movement driving his cock a little deeper down Ben's throat. 
Ben slid his hand past 
Ray's balls, to the expanse of perineum extending back toward Ray's anus. 
Making sure he was 
not being too rough, Ben ran his nails experimentally over the area,
pushing firmly, yet gently 
against the tender flesh, making Ray writhe even as he continued to thrust
with his hips. 
Drawing his mouth up along the length of Ray's cock, Ben once again
swirled his tongue over 
the head, seeking out the tiny slit, licking the vestigial ridge of
foreskin, compressing the head 
ever so slightly between his tongue and palate. Ray's hand entangled
itself in Ben's hair, and 
using it as a lever, Ray was able to force his cock deeper into Ben's
eager mouth. 

Quickly establishing a rhythm, Ben sucked Ray's cock in time with the
thrusts while his hand 
fondled Ray's balls, feeling the tension build as they drew closer to
Ray's body, and skimmed 
behind them to tease Ray's perineum and anus.  Just as the rhythm seemed
to flow naturally 
from Ray to Ben, Ray's hips began to drive his cock into Ben's mouth
erratically. Ray's hand 
gripped Ben's head, almost, but not quite, painfully. Ben, glancing up at
Ray saw only his lust 
darkened, half closed eyes, and parted lips, before Ray cried out and came
in Ben's mouth, his 
semen filling the back of Ben's throat, Ben's name on his lips. 

Ray's climax almost pushed Ben over the edge himself.  He could not
remember when he had 
been so aroused. Even his ministrations in the shower last night hadn't
hinted at the intensity of 
lovemaking with Ray.  Reluctantly he released Ray's now spent cock from
his mouth; however, 
he was unable to resist a final lick of the exquisite shaft, and as his
tongue reached the tip, the 
hand in his hair pulled him away from his prize. He groaned in
disappointment, and looked up 
into Ray's face, shiny with sweat, his features relaxed in post-coital
languor. 

"It's too intense, Benny. After that blow job, anything is way too
intense.  Gawd, I can't believe 
you did that;  I can't believe I let you suck my cock in broad daylight in
a public park. I can't 
believe that I'm still conscious." Ray shook his head, clearly attempting
to regain some level of 
normal cognition, his hand idly tracing the slant of Ben's eyebrow,
sweeping the disarray of dark 
curls from Ben's forehead. 

Ben, manfully resisting a further assault on Ray's cock, captured Ray's
hand and once Ray 
figured out what was going on, he provided assistance to help Ben stand
up.  Ben's erection was 
pressing very insistently into the cloth of his jeans and once in a
standing position, he moved his 
body against Ray's, his mouth finding Ray's. Sliding his tongue between
Ray's lips, Ben probed 
Ray's mouth deeply, exploring the moist cavity again, allowing Ray to
taste himself on Ben's 
tongue. Ray's own tongue pressed back with equal vigour, penetrating Ben's
lips, seeking 
complete access to Ben's oral cavity. Ben rubbed his aching groin against
Ray's thigh, almost 
begging for release then and there, wanting Ray to take him in his hands
and stroke him until he 
came. 

Ray, however, clearly had other ideas.  He gently disengaged Benny's lips
from his own. The 
taste of his own come on Benny's tongue had been so arousing that he could
feel himself starting 
to get hard again. However, given the size of the erection that was poking
into his thigh, he 
needed to bring Benny off before he exploded, even if it did cause a total
Vecchio meltdown. 

Pressing Benny back just slightly, he slipped the flat of his hand between
their chests.  Skilfully, 
he found Benny's right nipple and ran the tips of his nails over it.
Benny's moan was cut off as 
he bit softly into the side of Ray's neck, his pelvis arching forward
against Ray's still naked 
groin.  The contact which would have been too intense only scant moments
ago, was now 
pleasantly stimulating, and Ray ground his groin into Benny's erection.
Benny's head flew back 
when Ray bent his head and took the erect nipple, clearly visible through
the damp cotton T-shirt, in his mouth. 

Ray's assault on Ben's nipples left him wordlessly gasping for air which
seemed remarkably low 
in oxygen. Probably it doesn't matter, Ben thought, brain damage already
was at a maximum. 
Any remaining brain cells died a natural death when Ray had sucked at his
nipples, the wet 
cotton acting as a super-conductor for the devastating sensations Ray was
producing with his 
teeth and tongue.  Blowing gently over the wet fabric, Ray's lips curved
into a wide grin at the 
sight of Benny shivering uncontrollably. 

Still continuing his attention to Benny's chest, Ray slid his hand between
their groins and 
finding the bulge of Benny's erection, he squeezed it roughly through
Benny's jeans.  Benny 
moaned at Ray's touch, and rubbed his still enclosed cock needily against
Ray's hand. Ray could 
feel rather than hear Ben's pleas for release, the soft moans which Benny
whimpered into his ear, 
his voice hoarse, his breath ragged, as he fucked himself against Ray's
hand. 

Ray reluctantly removed his mouth from Benny's chest and his hand from
Benny's groin, and 
placing his hands on Benny's shoulders, gently turned him so that his back
was to Ray. Drawing 
Benny back against him, Ray resumed teasing Benny's nipples through the
wet cloth. Ben's head 
slumped back against Ray's shoulder, exposing his neck to Ray's delicate
nips. His full weight 
came to rest against Ray, his ass pressing into Ray's groin, the presence
of Ray's incipient 
erection registering at some neural level, the cheeks of his ass shifting
ever so slightly back and 
forth to ensure maximum contact. Ray's right hand slid agonizingly slowly
down Ben's chest, 
over his stomach, and came to rest teasingly on the waistband of Ben's
jeans. 

Ben's mouth, apparently of its own volition, since Ben didn't remember
deciding to speak, 
formed the words,  please', and  yes' and  Ray', as Ray started to undo
the buttons of Ben's 
jeans. And as he heard Ray's answering chuckle, "Oh yes, Benny. Don't
worry, we'll make you 
come, you're are going to come so hard" he plunged his hips toward Ray's
hand. 

Ben couldn't believe the way in which Ray's words turned him on.  He could
probably climax 
just from Ray whispering lewd suggestions to him. In the meantime however,
Ray clearly had 
another method on his mind. He continued with his slow teasing.  Each
button was a savage 
torment for Ben, Ray's fingers lingering ever so slightly over his
erection between unbuttonings, 
his other hand still actively manipulating Ben's nipples.  Ben supposed he
must have hands 
somewhere, but he couldn't remember what he had done with them last, or
even reliably where 
they were now. Ben's body's every fibre was bound up by the mesmerizing
exposure implied by 
Ray's seductive unfastening of his buttons. 

Finally, Ray removed his hand from the front of Ben's jeans and Ben
assumed that his fly was 
now undone, however, since he had lost count of the procedure somewhere
between buttons 3 
and 4, he couldn't be sure.  Well, he couldn't be sure of anything at the
moment, except that he 
felt sooo good plastered against Ray's groin, and that his own groin was
throbbing for release. 
Ray moved his hands down to grip Ben's waistband, and in a single rapid
movement, skinned 
both the jeans and the boxer shorts beneath them over Ben's hips, and half
way down his thighs. 

Moving one hand back up to Benny's chest, this time under the T-shirt, Ray
rolled the sensitive 
erect nub between his fingers, at the same time pressing Benny's whole
body back against his 
own. Not that Benny needed much encouragement, since he was sliding his
ass oh, so invitingly 
over Ray's cock. 

Concentrating on the matter at hand, as it were, Ray ran his other hand
down Benny's belly until 
he touched Benny's erection.  "Oh, you like that do you, Benny?" Ray
asked, his voice low and 
sultry, his breath teasing Benny's ear.  He was rewarded with Benny's
semi-vocal response, and 
an increase in the intensity with which Benny was starting to thrust into
Ray's hand. 

Ben pushed back against Ray's erection, the sweat slick cock sliding up
between the cheeks of 
his ass in a most enticing manner, and then he rocked forward against
Ray's hand, thrusting 
toward the promise of relief. Ray's hand expertly slid over the surface of
Ben's cock, his thumb 
circling the head, teasingly drawing the foreskin back, exposing the
sensitive skin to his feather 
light touches. Ray's groin matched Ben's thrusts, so his ass was in
constant contact with the 
exquisite teasing of Ray's cock, while his cock fucked itself into Ray's
come-wet hand. Ben's 
balls tightened in their sac, and Ben could feel the trembling that
usually preceded his release. So 
close, so close, and he wanted it to last forever, balancing on the knife
edge of pleasure, staving 
off release, savouring the intensity of his desire. 

Ray's tongue ran down the length of Ben's neck, and returned to its post
beside Ben's ear, and 
Ray's hot mouth, millimetres from Ben's ear, asked, in a hoarse whisper,
"Oh Benny, can you 
feel how much I want to fuck you?  How hot you make me? Feel my cock
against your ass, 
doesn't that feel good?"  All rational thought fled from Ben's lust fogged
brain, and 
accompanied by a guttural cry of pure need, he plunged his cock forward
into Ray's hand, his 
climax complete. 

Slowly his surroundings reformed around him and Ben became aware of his
hands, which were 
still grasping the cloth of  Ray's trousers tightly, a vain attempt to
achieve an anchor in the 
recent wrenching chaos.  Ray's breath was coming in uneven gasps filled
his ear, and Ray's 
groin continued to push against Ben's ass, the hardness of Ray's cock
slippery with sweat and 
pre-cum sliding along the cleft of Ben's buttocks. 

Almost as though he were thinking in slow motion, or perhaps, more like he
could watch the 
thoughts take form in his mind -- a sort of out of body experience -- Ben
realized what was going 
on, and was very pleased with himself for being able to elicit that sort
of a response from Ray so 
soon after his first orgasm.  Rousing himself from his post orgasmic
torpor, he pressed his ass 
against Ray's groin, pinning Ray between himself and the tree trunk. 

The increased pressure from Benny's perfect ass drove Ray closer to the
edge of release. 
Bringing Benny off so completely, whispering forbidden wishes into his ear
and feeling his 
responses had aroused Ray in a way that was quite unlike his previous
sexual experiences. 
Rather than a having a discrete (ahem) beginning and end, love making with
Benny seemed to 
have the potential to loop pleasure back around itself like an erotic
mobius strip, and Ray seemed 
firmly caught in the loop. Now, with Benny pressing against him, nibbling
at his ear, biting his 
neck, murmuring encouragement through lust parched lips, placing his hands
on Ray's hips and 
pulling them closer together, Ray could feel the orgasm building in his
balls, spreading outward 
like the opening of a particularly vibrant exotic flower, until his semen
flowed between his belly 
and the precious curve of Benny's ass cheeks. 

Ray's climax seemed the match that finally ignited the last tatters of
Ben's self control, and 
before he knew what he was doing, or even how he managed to get there, he
was on his knees 
between Ray's thighs, licking Ray's belly clean, lapping up the evidence
of Ray's desire for him. 
He felt, well he wasn't sure how to express what it was that he felt. 
Released, yes, certainly, but 
also, perhaps, sexy, attractive, desirable. Still, there was more than
that as well. His mind 
worried at this problem while his tongue traced the trail of hair down
Ray's belly, removing any 
stray drops of semen. 

Ray drew him up gently to a standing position, and pushed his tongue into
Ben's mouth.  The 
aggressive heat of Ray's tongue made Ben's cock stir again, and he pressed
forward, against 
Ray, wanting their bodies to become one, to fuse muscle and bone,  and
their skins to grow 
together: a patchwork of their love. 

Ben whimpered as Ray turned him around again and gripping his hips, Ray
quickly knelt behind 
him.  Ben wasn't sure what to expect, but as Ray started licking his own
semen from Ben's 
buttocks, sliding his tongue between the cheeks of Ben's ass, the gentle
roughness of his tongue 
drove all thoughts from Ben's brain, and he gave himself up with abandon
to the sensual 
debasement Ray's tongue was effecting. Somewhere in the dimmer recesses of
his mind, clearly 
an area that could function without oxygen or blood, Ben realized that
that was the very word he 
had been looking for. He felt debased by what he and Ray were doing, but
it was not a negative 
debasement, a degradation or humiliation; rather, he allowed, it was the
sort of fundamental 
shift, a de-basing, a sweeping away of all the barriers he had been
erecting over the course of 
thirty-some odd years, a realization of his erotic potential, a
reformation of his very core of 
being. 

He desperately wanted Ray's tongue to continue its passage downward, he
wanted to open up all 
parts of himself to Ray's tongue, fingers, cock, to be filled, and licked
and probed, to be made 
Ray's, and Ray's alone.  The intensity of his feelings shocked him, and he
understood that he 
would do whatever it was that Ray wanted, he was powerless to refuse Ray
his body, and his 
soul, and more importantly, he had wilfully and perversely abdicated any
such power, and would 
joyously do so again. 

Ray's hand started to move towards Ben's partially erect cock, while his
mouth continued to 
tease Ben's ass. In the small part of his brain that remained functional,
Ben knew that they 
couldn't continue what they were doing, where they were doing it. He
pulled away, turned, and 
roughly pulled Ray to his feet. His voice ragged and harsh from passion,
he begged, "No Ray, no 
more. Not now." 

Ray's face registered surprise at Benny's abrupt apparent change of heart.
Silently he cursed 
himself for pushing Benny too far, too fast; for scaring Benny. Initially,
in spite of Benny's 
eagerness, he had allowed Benny to set the pace, not wanting to take their
love making any 
where Benny hadn't wanted to go.  He had thought that Benny's responses
had indicated that he 
was okay with what they had been doing, but maybe he should have waited,
before complicating 
things.  Certainly something had set Benny off.  He had pulled away from
Ray almost violently, 
and Ray had never heard those tones in his voice.  Uncertain of his
reception, he started to speak, 
to apologize, to make amends, "Benny, I'm ..." But Benny's mouth closed
over his, his tongue 
pushing past Ray's lips, the tip running over Ray's palate, mapping the
tiny ridges there, before 
entangling itself with Ray's own tongue. 

When their mouths finally separated, and Ray looked at Benny's flushed
face, eyes dark with 
lust, fixed almost unseeingly on Ray's own face, the dark curls in damp
disarray, he decided that 
whatever it was that had prompted Benny's interruption of their
lovemaking, it wasn't likely that 
Benny was regretting what they had just finished or rather, not finished,
doing. His arms around 
Benny, Ray bent forward until his forehead just touched Benny's, and said
softly, "Benny, you 
are so beautiful, and I love you so much. I just can's seem to stop when
I'm touching you." 

Ben could feel fragmented parts of his brain start to reform, thoughts
coalescing once again in an 
almost rational way. He had correctly interpreted Ray's stricken look just
after he pulled away 
from him, but at that moment, the only true way of removing Ray's self
doubt had been through 
their physical contact. Now, finally, he felt he might be able to put his
thoughts together in some 
sort of verbal communication that would make sense to someone besides
himself.  He smiled 
shyly at Ray, looking down at their entwined bodies, still butt naked,
with their pants around 
their knees.  Oh dear, if only the consulate staff could see him now, he
thought wryly, they 
would be in for the shock of their tiny lives. He shook his head,
attempting to clear the incidental 
random thoughts cluttering up his still fragile thought processes. 

He brought his hands up to stroke Ray's face, his fingers tracing the
lines of Ray's cheek bones, 
rubbing gently across Ray's lips.  Touching Ray, that casual physical
intimacy of close contact, 
seemed to allow him to finally speak. His voice still unsteady, he managed
to say, " I know Ray. 
I can't stop either, and I feel overwhelmed by how profound my reactions
to you are." Ray 
started when Ben said  overwhelmed' and Ben rushed to reassure him. "It's
okay, Ray. It's a 
good type of overwhelmed, one which I am planning on getting to know a lot
better very soon." 
He slid his eyes sideways at Ray, letting him know exactly how he planned
to be overwhelmed. 

"Benny, I think it is time we went somewhere at little more comfortable,
ya know?  Not that I 
have any complaints, but there are some things even I don't want to think
about doing right here. 
Besides, we've been lucky so far, not to have had any interruptions."  
Ray said as he pulled his 
pants up, and carefully closing zipper. 

"Agreed, Ray." Ben was having more difficulty in achieving a quick return
to decency.  His cock 
was still quite erect, and each button on his jeans was a painful, if
arousing experience. 

Ray flashed him a lewd grin and bringing his lips to Ben's ear, whispered,
"It's a good job we 
cleaned each other off so well, isn't it. It would have been kinda messy
otherwise." Ben groaned 
at the jolt Ray's words caused to go through his already overloaded
nervous system. 

*** 

Arriving back at the parking lot, Ben cast about, looking for Dief. 
Likely still working the chip 
truck, he thought to himself, and releasing Ray's hand, he headed off in
that direction. He left 
Ray opening all of the doors to the Riv and rolling the windows down as
far as they would go. It 
was hot, Ben thought, but somehow, he hadn't noticed the climatic heat
earlier. Clearly it paled 
beside the heat he and Ray had generated during their lovemaking. 

He still was feeling, well, not exactly fragile, but, rather, hyper aware,
as thought all nerve-endings had suddenly doubled their capacity to
transmit information to his brain. He was so 
wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't recognize Marco until he touched
him on the shoulder. 
Ben started, and then, realizing who it was, smiled up at him in greeting.


"Sorry, Marco. I didn't see you come up.  I guess I was a little
preoccupied.  I...I...I'm looking 
for my wolf, you see." He cursed the red flush that crept up his cheeks. 

Marco grinned a conspiratorial "I've heard that line before," grin at him.
He could certainly see 
why Ray had fallen like a ton of bricks for this guy. "Yeah, Ben, I can
see you got a lot on your 
mind." He nodded almost imperceptibly at the bulge in the front of Ben's
pants. Ben's blush 
deepened. "You been doing some praying, too?" Marco continued, nodding at
the grass stains on 
Ben's knees. 

Ben was sure that spontaneous combustion took place at a lower temperature
than that currently 
engulfing his entire face. And, now that he reflected on it, a small dose
of spontaneous 
combustion might not be the worst thing to happen to him right now. And
where was that damn 
wolf? 

Marco grinned at him again. "Hey, Ben, I'm happy for you two. I told you,
you guys needed to 
spend some time alone. And," he paused to look significantly at Ben's
groin, "you obviously 
need to keep right on doing that." He gave Ben's shoulder an affectionate
squeeze saying, "Give 
Ray my love, and catch you both later, Ben." 

He paused after he turned to go. "The wolf?" Ben nodded, mutely. "He's
over by that garbage 
can." 

Finding his voice, Ben managed to squeak out, "Thank you kindly." 
Inwardly he groaned. They 
might as well have made out right on the bleachers, in full view of an
admiring audience.  He 
just hoped that Ray would take it in his stride. He sighed and collected
Dief from the 
overflowing garbage can. 

Ray had the engine running and the fan going on high when Ben with Dief in
tow climbed into 
the car. He looked up from twiddling with the radio, and catching sight of
Ben's face, asked 
what was wrong. 

"Nothing really, Ray. Except..." 

"Except what, Benny?" Ray looked concerned. 

"It really is nothing, Ray.  I just ran into Marco in the park, that's
all.  He sends his love by the 
way, and says that he's very happy for us." 

"Ah." Ray said, the penny dropping. "So he guessed?" 

Ben nodded. "Well, Ray, given the condition of my pants, he could probably
have made a very 
accurate guess as to exactly what took place." 

Ray started to laugh, mostly in response to the indignant tone in Benny's
voice, and, after a 
second, Ben joined in, all the tension he was feeling evaporating in their
loving laughter. 
  
*** 

Ray backed the Riv around and headed out of the parking lot in a
purposeful manner.  He 
glanced sideways at Benny, who was fussing with his seatbelt, attempting
to arrange the lap belt 
so that it didn't cause any more pressure on his groin than necessary, Ray
supposed.  He still was 
marvelling that this perfect being had made love with him with such
abandon. 

While Benny fiddled, Ray let his mind slide over the events of the morning
so far. It was obvious 
to him that Benny had had male lovers before, and that knowledge pleased
Ray. He would have 
hated to think that Victoria was the sum total of Benny's sexual
experience, excepting, of course, 
for Benny's right hand, and of the two, he could guarantee that the right
hand was likely to have 
been more fulfilling. He wondered if Benny would talk about his previous
sexual experiences, or 
whether he would express some sort of noble principle about not kissing
and telling.  Still, he 
thought, it couldn't hurt to try. Benny finally straightened up in his
seat and looked over at Ray. 

"Ray, we..." 

"Benny, I..." 

Having both started to speak at the same time, they both stopped, hoping
that the other would 
continue. Into the awkward little silence that followed, Ben said, "Please
continue with what you 
were saying, Ray." 

"Naw, Benny. You go first.  What I was gonna say can wait." 

"You're sure, Ray?" Ben asked diffidently. Ray nodded. 
  

Now that he had had time to think about what he was going to say, Ben
could feel his face 
starting to flush again.  Funny how he had no problem actually doing the
things that otherwise, 
mere mention of, brought a rosy glow to his cheeks. Probably some strange
psychological quirk 
best left undisturbed, he thought. 

Ray glanced over at him expectantly.  Ben, flushing a little more deeply,
said, "Well Ray, I was 
just going to ask if we needed to... ah... well.... It's just that I
wondered if you had... That we 
might need to make a stop. On the way back to your place." Ray looked a
bit puzzled, he 
thought. He sighed. "That we might need to stop by a drugstore, on the way
back to your place. 
Or not, if you don't want...." He trailed off embarrassedly, looking
fixedly out the front 
windscreen, avoiding Ray's eyes. 

Ray grinned to himself, sometimes Benny could be such a lovable Boy Scout,
and sometimes, he 
thought wickedly, he was so easy to tease. "No, Benny. I don't think we
need to bother with a 
drugstore." 

The ambiguity of Ray's response made Ben slump a little in his seat.  He
tried to gauge what 
Ray intended by that last statement.  Was it that he didn't want to do
that... it, as it were.  Or did 
it mean that he had the necessary accoutrements for safer sex at home
already.  Ray was not 
apparently going to amplify that statement, which meant that Ben had to
ask for clarification. 

He risked a sideways glance at Ray, attempting to glean a hint from his
countenance.  Certainly 
Ray's comments to him during sex indicated that... well... he would not be
averse to... ah...doing 
it. With Ben. Ben felt his flushed face start to sweat as he recalled what
Ray had said, and what 
his reaction to those suggestions had been. 

"Does that mean, Ray, that... that we are not going to be,... er... that
ah..." God, how could he 
*do*it, if he couldn't even *say* it, he thought, especially with a man he
loved, who he had had 
sex with already, though they hadn't done that. He had been able to say it
last night, to his father, 
or rather to his father's ghost, so he wasn't sure if that counted. 

He was just about to take the bull by the horns and plunge back into what
might well have been 
the most incoherent moment of his life, when he heard Ray make a soft
little noise. He paused. 
There was a second noise, this one a little louder, and Ben was able to
identify it quite clearly as 
a snort. He sagged back into his seat, and Ray, obviously unable to
control himself any longer, 
burst out laughing. 

"I can't believe you did that intentionally, Ray. You might have had some
sympathy for how 
difficult it was for me to ask about things like this." Ben decide that
two could play at this game, 
and made sure that he sounded most indignant and hurt. 

Ray, who was continuing to chuckle, said,  not particularly remorsefully,
but with ample 
affection in his voice, "I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn't resist,
just like I couldn't resist 
you." 

He smiled at Ben, who was still thinking that a little remorse would only
have been appropriate, 
and then continued. "To answer your original question, which, by the way,
it's a good thing I 
read minds since it wasn't what you call explicit, no we don't need to
stop, and yes, I do hope we 
will need to use the condoms and lube I have, as we speak, carefully
stored in my the drawer of 
my nightstand. That is, provided you are amenable, because if you are, I
fully hope to spend the 
rest of today fucking you and having you fuck me." 

Ben groaned inadvertently at Ray's words, and shifted uncomfortably in his
seat.  Ray noted 
Ben's reaction and said dryly, "I take it that means yes?" 

Ben nodded, almost imperceptably, and looked at Ray, his eyes dark and
huge, " Oh yes, Ray. 
But I'm a little, I guess, I'm not sure about, well, details.  I mean, I
... er... Victoria and I, we ...." 
He looked helplessly at Ray. 

 "You fucked." Ray supplied helpfully. 

Ben nodded. "Yes, but, I've never actually done... it, you know, with a
man. And I never had it 
done to me, either. You see. So I wasn't sure what the..., I mean, who...
looked after things." 

"You've never had sex with another man, Benny?" Ray asked, somewhat
incredulously, since, 
unless he was very much mistaken, that blow job hadn't fallen fully formed
out of the forehead 
of Zeus, or whoever. 

"Well, no, I mean, yes, er, no. I've had male lovers before. Victoria was
the only woman I've 
been intimate with.  But you see, we didn't have ... ah... sexual
intercourse together, my male 
lovers. I mean, my male lovers and I." There, he'd said it, or at least he
had gotten beyond 
pronouns, and actually named the act. 

Ray nodded, and asked, "So what did you and these guys do then?" He was
curious if Benny was 
able to name other sexual acts more easily than  sexual intercourse' or if
his remarkable 
ineloquence was more generally applicable to all sexual terms. 

"I've only had two male lovers, Ray, so it's not like I have a large
sample size. With one of 
them, well, we were both quite young, and he didn't have any more
experience than I did, so we 
just engaged in mutual masturbation. We probably would have gotten around
to other things if 
he had stayed in the north." 

Ben looked wistful. "It was the summer I was sixteen. He had come up to
plant trees in the 
Yukon, near Carmacks, and it was the first time I fell in love. His name
was Phil, he was a 
student at UBC, in engineering, and he was older than me." 

"So what happened?" Ray asked. "Did he leave you, or did you leave him?" 

"Neither." Ben said, the pain evident in his voice. "My grandmother found
us kissing, and she 
pulled all sorts of strings to make sure that he never came back. I tried
to find out what happened 
to him later on, when I was a little older, but by then he had graduated
and gone off to Africa on 
some development project." 

"So what about number two? Was that the second time you fell in love?" 

"No, Ray. I wasn't in love with him. It was in Regina, I was in the RCMP
training school and I 
met this man from Toronto. He was already a Mountie, and was back to do
some special course 
the school was offering in dealing with organized crime, an up-grading,
because that was when 
we were starting to see some organized crime activity coming into Canada
from Southeast Asia. 
You know the sort of thing?" 

Ray nodded, and Ben continued. "Well, it should have been obvious from the
start, but I didn't 
have a lot of experience, and what experience I had had, with Phil, well,
it really set me up, I 
guess. You see, he looked a lot like Phil, same build, eye colour, and I
guess, when he made 
advances to me, I thought... well it doesn't matter what I thought." Ben
sighed. 

"You thought you could have what you and Phil had, right?" 

"Yes. I thought I was in love with him, because of Phil, and looking back
on it, I was very 
sexually attracted to him, but I think that that was all tied up in how I
imagined it should be." 
Ben paused, lost in thought. 

"And?" Prompted Ray. 

"And we were together for about four weeks, while he was in Regina. Then
he went home, to 
Toronto, to a wife and two children." Ben looked ashamed. "I only found
out about them after, 
when I tried to call him. That's when I realized that I couldn't have been
in love with him, and 
that I had been deluding myself while I was with him. I think I should
have figured it out earlier, 
but..." 

"But nothing Benny. Don't beat yourself up over that guy.  He picked you
up, used you and 
threw you away. You were just a kid, you couldn't have known that he was a
shit of the first 
water.  I bet that he was able to justify to himself that he wasn't really
queer because all he did 
was let you suck his cock and jerk him off. I bet he never went down on
you, did he?" 

Ben shook his head, mutely. Ray slammed his fist on the dashboard. "I
can't believe these guys. 
They make me furious.  At least I had the common decency to be honest with
myself when I 
finally figured it out and not to screw around on my wife while I was
still married to her." 

"Ray, it's okay. This was all years ago. It doesn't matter." 

"No, Benny, no. It's not okay. It's crappy, and I think that you deserved
better than some selfish 
son of a bitch who was just looking to get his rocks off with a naive
young thing." Ray was 
outraged. He couldn't believe anyone would do that to Benny. 

It was monstrously unfair. He had had some fairly mediocre relationships
in his life too, but on 
the whole, there hadn't been the sort of self-centred using that both this
guy and dear Victoria 
seemed to have gone in for. "So there wasn't anyone between this guy and
Victoria?" Benny 
shook his head.  "I guess you dated Larry Palm a lot, huh?" 

Benny looked surprised. " I've never met anyone named Larry Palm, Ray. How
could I have 
gone out with him?" 

"You're joking, right?" It was Ray's turn to be surprised. He couldn't
believe Ben didn't know 
what he was talking about.  He made a meaningful gesture with his right
hand.  "You know, 
jerking yourself off, masturbating." 

"Oh, I see, Ray." Benny still looked less than sanguine about the
explanation, and Ray was not 
entirely surprised when he continued, "Well, yes, Ray. I guess that I did.
That is, that I managed 
to achieve sexual release through masturbation. But how is that related to
Larry Palm?" 

"It's a euphemism for masturbation, Benny.  Like a guy says to you,  so
who are you seeing 
these days,' and if all you're doing is jacking off, you say,  well, I'm
seeing Larry Palm and his 
five brothers.'" He held up his hand, and steering with his knees, pointed
to the relevant parts of 
his hand with his left index finger. 
  
"Ah, thank you Ray, I think I understand now." 
  
"So what do you call it, Benny? You don't just say that you're
masturbating, do you?  So is it 
jerking off, or beating off, or jacking off, or having a wank?"  Ray
grinned at Benny. 

Ben suspected that Ray was teasing him a little, and he contemplated
sharing his father's 
euphemism, but even to his ears  pulling your pony' sounded like it was
something Fraser Sr. 
would have invented himself. 

Instead, he decided he had a chance to tease Ray a little, and said
"Well,  Ray.  There doesn't 
seem to be much wrong with masturbate. It is a perfectly useful word, and
can be conjugated 
quite helpfully." 

Ray rolled his eyes and shook his head. Ben continued, "For instance, to
masturbate, as in I 
masturbate, which I do, from time to time; you masturbate, which I presume
to be the case since 
you know so many different phrases for it; he or she masturbates, which if
Kinsey was any 
guide, would seem to hold true in many instances; my own favourite, we
masturbate, and we 
certainly did, and I sincerely hope we do again; and they masturbate,
which I am sure would fall 
into Kinsey's research statistics as well." 
  

Ben looked over at Ray and watched his reactions to Ben's conjugation, and
at about the point 
where Ben said,  you masturbate', he started to smile, and when Ben said, 
we masturbate', he 
started to grin. "Okay, I take your point Benny.  Masturbation it is.  It
certainly does seem to 
cover the bases." 

"Technically not, Ray.  If I recall our conversation from last night,
masturbation, even mutual 
masturbation of the sort we just engaged in, would not be equivalent to 
scoring,' that is, sexual 
intercourse, and so would not, in fact, cover the bases." Ben was quite
pleased with this. He had 
managed to say, sexual intercourse without even stammering. 

"Aw, Benny..." Ray groaned, and Ben laughed. 

Ray swung the Riv into the Vecchio driveway, and braked to a stop. Just
before getting out of 
the car, Ray leaned over, and kissed Ben on the lips, their mouths coming
together, their bodies 
leaning in towards each other. It was a passionate kiss, full of promise,
and a desperate yearning 
for things to come. As they pulled away from each other, their lust for
each other flickering in 
their eyes, Ray touched Ben's lips with his index finger. "Come on Benny.
It's time I showed 
you where home plate is." 

*** 

     Almost shyly, Ray led Benny through the door of his bedroom. It
wasn't as though 
Benny hadn't been in Ray's room before, it was that he hadn't been in
Ray's room for the 
consummation of their longstanding mutual attraction before, and Ray felt
eager anticipation 
coupled with just the tiniest hint of nervousness. Not that he had
anything to be nervous about, 
he told himself. Coming in through the kitchen, Ray had snagged a pitcher
of ice water out of the 
fridge, and Benny had grabbed two glasses, and they had headed straight
upstairs. Dief had 
disappeared into the basement. 

The inside of the downstairs had been cooler than the heat-drenched
mid-day July heat outside, 
but as they had climbed the stairs they could feel the temperature
rising.  The curtains in Ray's 
room fluttered softly in the desultory breeze, aided somewhat by a slow
turning ceiling fan. 
Setting the ice water down beside the bed, he walked over to the windows
and adjusted the 
horizontal binds so that the amount of light coming into the room was
halved, and the direct 
sunlight streaming through the windows was reduced to a series of
horizontal beams slicing 
through the dusky calm. 

Turning back to look at Benny, Ray couldn't help wanting to pinch himself
just to prove to 
himself that he wasn't actually dreaming, but on some deeper level, he
didn't dare, just in case 
he was. Benny had been quiet on their passage through the silent house,
and now he stood, still 
holding the glasses, one in each hand, just inside the door of the room. 
Crossing over to stand 
beside him, Ray gently removed the glasses from Benny's hands and set them
beside the pitcher. 
He then took Benny's hands in his own, and drew Benny into a close
embrace. "You still okay 
with this, Benny?" he asked. 

Ben slid his arms down until his hands rested on Ray's buttocks.  He
pressed their groins 
together, allowing Ray to realize just how okay he was, and ran his tongue
around Ray's ear 
delicately. Ray arched his hips against Ben's, and they started to move
against each other 
purposefully, their mouths meeting, their tongues matching the rhythm set
up by their hips, 
sliding over one another with abandon. 

Coming up for air, they stared at each other wild-eyed, their passion
palpable in the heat 
thickened air. Wordlessly Ray undressed, and then turned to Ben, who was
standing watching 
him, drinking in the sight of his lover, marvelling at his lithe body, the
fine bone structure with 
the taut muscle over laying it, the proud cock, not yet erect, but
perfectly proportioned.  Ben still 
couldn't credit how he had come, not an hour earlier, to have knelt
worshipfully between those 
lean thighs, how Ray's hand had tangled itself in his hair as he had
licked and sucked that 
flawless cock. 

"So beautiful,"Ben murmured, "you're so beautiful, Ray." He ran his hands
over Ray's 
shoulders, revelling in the satiny feel of Ray's skin, the feel of the
muscle just below the skin. 

"Benny, don't you think that you're a little behind schedule here?" Ray
asked, tugging Benny's 
shirt out of his the waistband of his jeans.  He seemed to spend most of
his time unwrapping 
Benny, and sometimes he wished that Benny wasn't such a tucked in kinda
guy.  Though, 
certainly there seemed to be an untucked side to Benny this morning and
Ray was sure he was 
going to enjoy exploring it further. 

Ben grinned at Ray's eager attempt to get him to disrobe.  Time for a
little more teasing he 
thought.  He gently pushed Ray down until Ray was seated on the side of
the bed, his mouth 
stopping Ray's muttered protestations.  Never taking his eyes from Ray's,
huge and green in the 
darkened room, Ben started to finish what Ray had begun.  He pulled the
rest of his T-shirt out of 
his jeans, and slowly pushed it up on his chest, his hands caressing
himself. Ray's eyes widened 
as Ben played with his nipples, slowly circling the flattened nubs,
stroking them into hardened 
points. Ray's whimper of lust and frustration seemed to find its way
directly to Ben's groin, and 
he could feel his cock respond to Ray's desire. 

Deftly, Ben pulled the T-shirt the rest of the way off, and tossed it on
the floor.  His hands went 
to his already much too tight jeans, and he undid, very slowly, the
buttons of his fly, watching 
Ray as he did so.  He'd had no idea that just taking his clothes off could
be so erotic, and 
certainly, Ray seemed to think so as well, if his reactions were anything
to go by.  Ben pushed 
his jeans down over his hips, leaving his boxer shorts temporarily in
place. His cock, released 
from the stern confines of the jeans into the more roomy boxers swung a
little out from his belly, 
making an appreciable bulge in the crisp white shorts. 

Bending to remove his jeans, Benny straightened up just in time for Ray to
successfully grasp 
Ben's buttocks and pull him into the circle of Ray's arms. Ray slipped his
clever hands up the 
open legs of the shorts and caressed the cheeks of Ben's ass kneading the
firm flesh, running his 
nails gently over the pale skin, his fingertips sliding in and out of the
cleft between the buttocks. 
Ben moaned and pressed his ass back against Ray's hands, his teasing game
forgotten; contact 
with Ray's hands, Ray's mouth, Ray's cock the only thing that mattered at
the moment. Ray was 
breathing heavily through slightly parted lips and Ben could feel the warm
breath on his groin, 
and he watched transfixed as Ray bent his head and sucked the head of
Ben's cock through the 
thin fabric of the shorts. He was sure he was going to come right then and
there, losing control 
and toppling forward onto Ray and into oblivion, but Ray had other plans
in mind.  He quickly 
slid Ben's shorts off, and pulled Ben toward him. His open mouth
accommodated Ben's cock 
and his deft fingers continued to tease Ben's buttocks, moving between
them and then 
withdrawing, circling and stroking. 

Ben's sense of direction fled as Ray ran his tongue just inside his
foreskin, teasing the sensitive 
tip, darting the point of his tongue into the slit in the glans. Ben's
hands came down and rested 
lightly on either side of Ray's head, steadying it, and his hips started
to thrust in a purposeful 
rhythm. Ray let Ben fuck his cock down Ray's throat, and slid off the bed
to rest on his knees in 
front of Ben.  Ben looked down, watching as his cock moved in and out of
Ray's mouth; aroused 
by this erotic tableau and pushed almost to the edge by Ray's oral and
manual ministrations, 
Ben's pelvic movements increased in speed, the ache in his balls spreading
down the insides of 
his thighs, upward through the muscles of his belly. 

Ray's deliberate pleasuring of his body astounded Ben, and made him feel
cherished, a prize Ray 
was claiming as his own, something worthy of this sort of attention. 
Ray's right hand slipped 
between Ben's legs, and fondled his already tight balls, stroking and
rolling them between 
careful fingers. The fingers of Ray's other hand ran up and down between
the cheeks of Ben's 
ass, occasionally finding their way to the delicate sensitive skin around
Ben's anus. Once or 
twice, the index finger strayed into the puckered opening, just teasingly
penetrating the very 
outer reaches of that erogenous area. 

Ben had to admit to the only part of his brain that seemed to function
during these encounters, a 
sort of primitive erotically focussed area, that Ray's teasing finger was
driving him wild with 
desire, a desire to be fucked, to be penetrated, to be wholly Ray's
possession.  The thought that 
he could be so incredibly wanton, sluttish, and perverse only seemed to
increase the intensity of 
his desire. He shifted his legs further apart to provide Ray with
unimpeded access, to make 
himself vulnerable and exposed. He whimpered as Ray's finger returned to
probe his anus 
gently, surely, but instead of drifting off as it had before, the finger
remained, pushing gently 
into Ben's body, slipping back a little, and pushing forward again. 

Ben could feel himself starting to open to this penetration, his muscles
relaxing, his skin alive 
with sensation.  He could feel Ray's teeth scrape provocatively along the
underside of his cock, 
his thumb pressing along Ben's perineal area, every nerve ending seeming
to multiply in 
intensity the information it received from Ben's cock, Ben's anus, and
these multiplications fed 
back in turn making the areas penetrated and penetrating more sensitive
still. Ben grasped at 
Ray's head, his universe chaotic and unsubstantial, his body seemingly
unable to maintain its 
integrity as the heat of his orgasm spread outward. 

Ray carefully withdrew his finger from Benny's body, and grasping Benny's
hips, he rocked 
back on his heels, reluctantly allowing Benny's softening cock to slip out
of his mouth.  He 
loved the way that Benny's cock had filled his mouth, pushed into his
throat, spilling Benny's 
semen down Ray's throat. Ray had delighted in the way in which Benny had
responded: open, 
free, and wilful in his own desires. Ray could feel the heat in his own
groin when he had 
penetrated Benny's ass, his cock aching to slide into that smooth tight
passage, aching to make 
Benny cry out in pleasure at his violation. 

Ben wasn't sure how he had remained standing during his climax, and he
wasn't entirely sure he 
would be able to summon enough coordinated voluntary muscle action to make
it to the bed. Ray 
was sitting back on his heels, looking up at Ben, green eyes wide and dark
with lust, his cock, 
erect and perfect, pushing out of the short dark curls on Ray's groin.
Here indeed was the faun in 
rut Ben had imagined last night, other worldly, and yet of this world. 

Ray slowly eased himself back on the bed, and pulled Ben close. Almost
without his volition, 
Ben's body collapsed forward, pressing Ray between him and the bed,
feeling Ray's erection 
pushing up against his groin, tasting Ray's lips on his, the taste of his
own cum on them 
intoxicating and seductive. 

"So you like, Benny?" Ray asked, arching his eyebrows at Benny. 

"Like doesn't even come close to describing it, Ray. I've never felt
anything like it before. I 
hope I didn't hurt your head, I don't seem to recall holding it that
tightly when you started to 
suck me." 

Ray chuckled, "It's a well known physiological reaction to a first rate
blow-job, Benny. Nothing 
to be ashamed of there. Just make sure you don't pull too hard. I haven't
got much hair to lose, 
ya know." 

Ben ruffled his hand through Ray's receding hair, marvelling at how soft
it was under his 
fingers. "I'll be sure to remember that for the next time Ray," he said
jokingly grabbing a small 
handful and playfully tugging at it. 

"Ow, Benny, no fair. I meant it when I said I don't have any to spare." 

Ray rolled them over on the bed, so that Benny was trapped under him.
Benny looked sweet and 
vulnerable and at the same time erotically charged, lying beneath him on
the bed, Ray thought as 
he started to move his hips back and forth, pushing Benny's legs apart and
thrusting against his 
pelvis, his cock sliding over Ben's.  Ray leaned forward and kissed Benny
on the mouth, his 
tongue insistent, probing, pushing its way into Benny's mouth. 

Ben loved the feeling of Ray covering him. The sensation of being
physically dominated by Ray 
was highly arousing, and Ben had groaned in pleasure as Ray had parted his
legs and pushed in 
between them. Ray's cock forced its way between their groins, Ray's
arousal evident in the 
hardness of his cock, and the slickness of the pre-cum leaking from the
tip. Ben drew his knees 
up, trying to increase the contact between Ray's cock and his own, trying
to direct Ray's cock to 
push up against his anus. 

Ray nibbled along Ben's neck, his tongue swiping damply along the vein
standing out on Ben's 
neck, and whispered, "I'm going to fuck you, Benny. I'm going to fuck your
perfect ass." He slid 
down and with his next thrust, pressed his cock head against Ben's
asshole. 

Ben felt his own cock throb in response to Ray's words, and his body felt
as though it were on 
fire, his organs and skin liquefying in the heat of his desire. His eyes
were focussed somewhere 
in the middle-distance, the pupils huge in the dim light, and he hoarsely
whispered, "Please, Ray. 
Please take me now." 

But instead of continuing to thrust, Ray pushed himself up on his arms,
and moved away from 
Ben's body.  Ben's eyes flew open, and he made an incoherent moan of
distress as the pressure 
against his anus disappeared.  Ray's cock, sweat-slick and turgid, moved
away from Ben's groin, 
and swung out, as if cantilevered by the weight of Ray's balls heavy in
the delicate tissue paper 
softness of their sac. 

Ray couldn't be stopping now, Ben's heart despaired, he couldn't promise
and then not go 
through with it. His anguish must have registered in his eyes, because Ray
quickly kissed Ben's 
lips, and smiled reassuringly, saying, "Don't worry Benny, I plan on
having my wicked way with 
you. I just need to make sure we do it right." 

Ben's blood was pumping through his body, his veins and arteries thrumming
the carnal message 
 fuckmefuckmefuckme' as Ray reached into the night table and withdrew a
tube of lube and a 
strip of three condoms, which he tossed next to Ben on the bed. Ray looked
down at Benny, 
laying back on the bed, his legs spread, his knees drawn up and could
barely contain himself. He 
thought he could probably come just looking at Benny's abject sexuality,
Benny's abject desire, 
splayed out for his perusal, for his usage. 

"Turn over, Benny." His voice, hoarse from desire, sounded rougher than he
had intended. 
Benny obediently rolled over onto his stomach, moaning. Ray almost
whimpered at the 
disappearance of Benny's cock, already starting to harden again, but
consoled himself at the 
sight of Benny's perfect buttocks alluringly pale in the darkened room. 

"Spread your legs, Benny." Benny moved his legs apart, revealing just the
shadow of his balls at 
the point where his body met the bed, the separation between the buttocks
made more distinct, 
more breachable.  Ray knelt between Benny's spread legs, and bending his
back and neck, 
nibbled the almost porcelain perfection of Benny's ass cheeks. Benny
groaned, and writhed 
under Ray's eager nips. Starting at the base of Benny's spine, Ray trailed
his tongue along the 
cleft between the two cheeks, the tiny circular licking motions caressing
and tantalizing.  Benny 
pushed back against Ray's tongue, his legs spreading themselves wider. 

"Oh, Ray. Please, please...." Benny sighed breathlessly. 

"Please what, Benny?" Ray said, pausing briefly in his oral labours. 

"Please... your tongue... Ray." 

"You want me to lick you some more, Benny? Is that it?" Benny writhed on
the bed, his ass 
cheeks deliciously spread, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his lower
back. Ray wanted to 
make sure Benny was just as ready to be fucked as Ray was ready to fuck
him. He decided to up 
the ante a little, given Benny's propensity for having Ray talk smut. "You
want me to lick your 
lovely little ass? To push my tongue into you? To suck and nibble? To make
you squirm Benny? 
Is that it?" His hot breath was millimetres away from Benny's skin and he
blew provocatively 
down the cleft of Benny's ass. 

His words and actions certainly had an effect on Benny.  Benny's moan was
an incoherent 
expression of lust, and desire, and yearning, and found its bodily
equivalent in the way in which 
Benny drew his knees up under him, legs still spread wide, and offered
himself to Ray. Ray 
swallowed hard, unbelievably turned on, his cock a burning brand, his
brain clouded with his 
obsession for Benny's body. Gently steadying himself by placing his hands
on Benny's now 
raised hips, he resumed his oral attentions.  Running his tongue between
Benny's buttocks, he 
swirled the tip over Benny's anus causing Benny's hips involuntarily to
buck. 

Ray proceeded to lick back and forth, over and around, ever-so-often
sliding the tip of his tongue 
into the tight opening. Ben's hips pushed his anus back against Ray's
mouth, desperate to 
increase the amount of flesh in contact with Ray's agile tongue, at the
same time desperate to 
feel something more substantial penetrate him. He found it almost
impossible to fathom that Ray 
was currently bathing this most private part with his tongue and that he,
Ben, was on his knees, 
begging, however incoherently, for Ray to do that and more. 

When Ray withdrew his tongue, Ben felt momentarily bereft, anxious for the
wondrous 
sensations to continue, yet eagerly anticipating what might come next.
Ray, after a moment, 
replaced his tongue with a well lubed finger, and gently pushed it into
Ben's receptive body. 
Ben whimpered as Ray slid the finger in and out, rotating it slowly, the
tip just grazing Ben's 
prostate. Ben pushed back against Ray's finger, wanting more, wanting to
be filled, wanting to 
be fucked. 

Ray ran his finger tip around the ring of muscle, opening Ben up,
stretching him, driving him 
wild with desire. Then Ray stroked a second finger into Ben, pushing in
and out, twisting 
carefully, saying, "You like my fingers in you, Benny?  You like me finger
fucking you? If you 
like this, wait until I fuck you with my cock." 

Ben's brain felt like it had short-circuited, only the automatic responses
were preserved, any 
higher brain function had evaporated at about the same time as Ray had
opened his mouth. Ben 
didn't understand why just listening to Ray's salacious patter could make
him hard as a rock and 
aching for release, but right at the moment, he didn't give a good God
damn. His cock was 
throbbing and he could feel every movement of Ray's fingers transmitted to
his sensitive organ. 

Ray slowly withdrew his fingers from Ben's anus, and Ben gasped a little
as more lube was 
pushed into his ass. Then, the blunt head of Ray's condom sheathed cock
slid along Ben's 
sensitive perineum and pushed against the tender skin of Ben's anus. Ben
rocked back against 
Ray's cock, the first part of the glans already lodged in his ass and felt
Ray's hands come to rest 
on his hips, Ray's torso resting lightly along his back. Ray's own hips
started to push his lube 
slick cock slowly into Ben, withdrawing slightly and then rocking forward
again. 

Ben felt a delicious pressure in his ass, a fullness he had only
anticipated but had never 
experienced before now.  He longed for Ray to push all the way in, to
become fully part of him, 
to inhabit him. The motion of Ray's hips increased and Ben found himself
moving impatiently 
against Ray's cock. Longing over-coming Ben's inhibitions, he whispered to
Ray, "Please, Ray. 
Please, I need you inside of me." 

Ray couldn't believe the smoothness and tightness of Benny's rectum, and
as his cock stopped 
and slid alternatively into the warmth of Benny's body, the pressure
around his cock pushed him 
closer to the edge. Hearing Benny's plea, Ray started to move his cock in
and out of Benny's 
luscious hole, fucking him gently at first, and then harder as Benny's
desire matched Ray's 
fervour until they were moving as one, plunging against each other,
sweat-slick, bathed in their 
mutual passion. 

Ray slid one hand down Benny's hip towards his groin, seeking and finding
Benny's hard cock, 
slippery with pre-cum and sweat. He wrapped his hand around it and Benny
cried out 
unintelligibly, the only recognizable word was Ray's name. Ray could feel
Benny's rectal 
muscles start to spasm, their contractions massaging his cock as he fucked
it in and out of his 
lover's body. 

Ray's cock head slid back and forth over what Ben could only assume was
his prostate gland, 
and the sensations were unlike anything Ben had ever felt. Ray's hand had
found Ben's cock and 
when he had wrapped it around Ben's cock, Ben could feel the room start to
disappear.  The only 
sounds he heard were Ray's breathing and the sound of his blood pushing
through his veins, the 
only sensations he felt were the exquisite torment of Ray's cock moving in
and out of his anus 
and the hand gripping his cock. The smell of their lovemaking, lust, and
pheromones, and sweat 
and semen filled his brain, the synapses burning like cordite down his
nerves until they ignited 
his orgasm. Ben could feel his ass gripping Ray's cock, bearing down on
it, fighting to still the 
short sharp thrusts that carried Ray to his climax, as his cock shot semen
all over his lover's 
hand. 

Ray gave a final thrust and came deep inside Benny's rectum. Collapsing
forward, spent sexually 
and physically, covering Benny's body with his own, Ray slid his cock
gently out of Benny's 
anus, and deftly removed the condom. As they lay gasping, curled around
one another, the bed in 
disarray, the humid air barely moving over their sweat-soaked bodies, Ray
whispered in Benny's 
ear. "I love you Benny," and kissed him tenderly on the lips. 

"I love you too, Ray." Ben murmured sleepily in return, contentedly
snuggling down into the 
curve of his lover's body. "  Night, Ray...Sleepy." 

" Night, Benny." Benny's deep regular breathing indicated that he was
already asleep. Ray 
smiled, self-satisfied, and... well...just plain satisfied. He could feel
the heaviness in his bones 
that presaged sleep, and even though it was still early afternoon, he
peacefully dozed off, his 
lover nestled in his arms. 

*** 
  
When Ben awoke he noticed that the angle of the sunlight coming through
the blinds had shifted, 
and that most of the afternoon had slipped by while they had slept. Ray
was still asleep beside 
him, his regular breathing comforting, his arm casually encircling Ben's
waist. Ben liked the 
sensation of waking in Ray's arms, feeling connected and loved. He didn't
want to wake Ray yet 
and so he slid a little closer to his lover, and tried to doze a bit. His
mind skimmed over the 
events of the past hours, the events which had led them to be lying here,
firmly ensconced in 
Ray's bed, entangled in each other's arms, the evidence of their desire as
palpable as the heat in 
the still room. 

Ben's previous experiences hadn't prepared him much for the joyous
adventurous couplings he 
had engaged in with Ray.  Their lovemaking had been accompanied by the
awakening of a 
sensual part of Ben that he never had dreamed of, and that, he was
astounded to discover, 
pervaded all of his senses, all parts of his being. Ray's rough tenderness
had unlocked aspects of 
Ben's soul he didn't know he possessed. 

Or perhaps, it hadn't just been Ray. Perhaps he was also ready to move
beyond his normal 
reserve, and his love for Ray had merely (as if anything so integral to
his soul could be termed 
 mere') been the catalyst.  Whatever it was, the process had been a
transformation, an exaltation, 
and taking Ray into his body, being penetrated by Ray, had been an
important final step in this 
process. He felt...completed, and perhaps for the first time since he
could remember, entirely 
alive, wholly in his body, in his soul. 

He remembered the dog-eared copy of EM Forster's *Maurice* Phil had given
him before he 
left. In it he had puzzled out exactly what the (he thought anyway)
overly-coy Edwardian had 
meant by  sharing', desperately frustrated that Forster hadn't seen fit to
be more explicit about 
what Alec and Maurice had done. Now, though, he reflected that  sharing'
was perhaps the best 
possible word to describe what had happened between himself and Ray. They
had shared a vital 
part of themselves and in so doing had become more than they were before,
or at least he hoped 
that was how Ray felt, since it certainly was how he felt. 

Ben wondered idly about Ray's previous male lovers. Had Ray been in love
with them, or had 
they just had sex and not worried  about emotional entanglements? Ray's
practiced use of Ben's 
body, like his membership in the greater community of gay men, had been a
relief to Ben. And 
while it didn't suggest that the road ahead would necessarily be an easy
one, it did remove some 
of Ben's more substantial concerns about how Ray might cope with having a
male lover. 

Ben's stomach growled, and he really needed to pee.  As he steeled himself
to try to slide out of 
Ray's embrace, Ray stirred and rubbed up against Ben's back, tangling his
legs with Ben's. 

"Ray?" Ben whispered, "Are you awake?" 

"Hmmm?" Ray mumbled sleepily. 

"Ray, I have to get up. Just let me..." He tried to slip his legs out from
under Ray's, but Ray was 
still partially comatose and not particularly helpful. 

"Hmmmrfff, Benny" Ray shifted again, and Ben was able to free his legs.
Now all he needed to 
do was just remove Ray's arm from around his waist and... Ray moved quite
suddenly, and 
muttered, "Benny, if you're going to fidget, just get up." 

"I'm sorry, Ray. I was trying to get up, but as you can see, I did need to
move your arm in order 
for me to be able to." 

"Hmmrrff," was all Ray had to say, and it was only after he heard Ray's
breathing pattern 
resume its regular rhythm that Ben realized Ray hadn't woken up at all. He
sat up slowly, so as 
not to jiggle the bed too much, and after standing up carefully, he padded
naked across the hall to 
the bathroom. 

Gratefully relieving the pressure on his bladder, Ben watched absently as
the stream of urine 
swirled into the water of the toilet bowl, his thoughts a thousand miles
away, gathering wool. 
Finished peeing, he turned to wash his hands, and caught sight of himself
in the mirror over the 
vanity. He peered at his face in the mirror, trying to discern if his
transformative experience had 
had any outward expression. He'd heard some rubbish about how a person's
sexual experience 
can be read in their face, and looking closely, he was somewhat relieved
to see that there was 
nothing specifically that screamed,  my lover had his cock up my ass and I
loved it.' 

On the other hand, he had to admit, his lips inadvertently quirking up
into a grin at the image that 
had just passed through his mind, he did look ...well... well-fucked, and
he had, in addition to the 
purpling hickey from the night before, a small collection of bruises on
his neck and shoulders, 
evidence of the intensity of his passion and Ray's.  He slid his finger
experimentally over them; 
they weren't painful, just colourful, proud little souvenirs. He quirked
an eyebrow at himself in 
the mirror, he'd been manhandled, he thought, and that was just the way he
liked it. He rinsed his 
hands in the basin, and humming Beethoven's Ode to Joy under his breath,
he crossed back into 
the bedroom. 

*** 

Ray was still asleep, curled up, the sheet draped over part of his legs,
his buttocks caught in the 
late afternoon rays of sunlight.  So beautiful, Ben thought, so beautiful,
and he loves me. He 
gently traced the pattern of hair on Ray's temple, and then moved away
from the bed, reluctant 
to disturb Ray's sleep. Pouring himself a drink of water, he thirstily
gulped it down, and quickly 
poured himself a second glass. 

Wandering around the room aimlessly, he paused in front of Ray's dresser,
his eyes running 
randomly over the accumulated clutter, not really focussing on anything in
particular, until it 
caught sight of a photo. It was an ordinary snap-shot,  stuck between the
edge of the dresser and 
the mirror, of Ben and Dief, taken one day the previous winter, the
February sky behind them, 
cruelly cold.  Ben remembered the day. He and Ray had taken Dief to a park
near Ben's 
apartment, and Ray had taken some photos. Ben had enjoyed the outing, the
air, fresh and cold; 
he had been happy to be in the company of the man he was in love with,
even if he daren't tell 
him so. Afterwards they had come back to Ben's apartment and thawed Ray
out, drinking tea 
and sitting in the weak February sunshine. 

Ben remembered how he had longed to put his arms around Ray, how he had
wanted once again 
to make the suggestion he had made in the meat locker, that the best way
of warming a body up 
was skin to skin contact, but he had been afraid of being rebuffed. He
sighed, if he had acted on 
his instincts, they might have been celebrating half a year as lovers
instead of just getting down 
to business now. Still, no use worrying about might-have-beens, they were
together now; that 
was all that mattered. 

He picked the photo up and studied the man looking out at him. He
looked...well...dour, as his 
grandmother might say.  Sad was too strong a word, perhaps, it implied an
emotional response; 
dour, on the other hand, suggested an inflexibility, a severity that the
man in the photo projected. 
Ben was dumbfounded by this revelation. Here he was, supposedly looking
out at the man he 
loved, the person who meant the most to him, and the best he was able to
manage was dour. No 
wonder Ray hadn't made any attempt to make a pass at him. He'd had no idea
that he had been 
so forbidding. He had been so scared of showing his emotions, he had all
but closed down 
completely. 

Ben glanced up at his reflection in the mirror, and while the man in the
mirror, and the man in 
the photo were the same man physically, Ben was astounded by the
differences able to be read 
on their respective faces. Ray had complained about how tucked in and
wrapped up Ben 
appeared, and Ben realized that the man in the photo certainly had been
tucking his feelings in, 
and wrapping up his emotions. He sighed again. He leaned over to tuck the
photo back into the 
mirror frame, and started up when Ray's voice broke into the humid silence
of the room. "A very 
nice view, Benny. Just what I needed to see when I woke up." Ben blushed,
and looked at Ray in 
the mirror. Ray was sitting cross legged on the bed, his hair in disarray,
his eyes roguish, 
grinning at Ben in the mirror. " Ya know, that colour really suits you,
Benny." 

Ben almost asked  what colour', but stopped himself when he realized that
Ray was teasing him. 
Smiling at Ray, he blushed even more deeply instead and walked over to the
bed. Ray leaned 
back, propped his shoulders against the headboard and carelessly draped
the sheet over part of 
his nakedness, looking, Ben thought to himself, perfectly edible.  Ray
slid over, making room for 
Ben beside him on the disaster area formerly known as Ray's bed. Ben sat
on the edge of the 
mattress, and looked at his lover quizzically. Ray's seductive smile was
heading rapidly towards 
a wicked grin, and on the whole, Ben thought, he looked like more trouble
than a wilderness of 
monkeys. 

Ray, noticing Benny's puzzlement reached over to take the forgotten photo
from Ben's hands. 
"Parks," he said. Benny's look of confusion deepened and Ray explained,"I
just caught sight of 
the picture of you and Dief in the park and I remembered how cold it was,
and then I thought 
about our adventure in the park this morning. It's a good thing it wasn't
February or something 
vital might have frozen off, and I wouldn't have appreciated that at all.
I like your equipment just 
were it is." 

He chuckled and Ben, sliding into bed beside Ray, smiled at the image of
them attempting to 
make love next to the wind-whipped shores of Lake Michigan in sub-zero
weather. Not alluring, 
but if he was with Ray... 

"Well, it is possible to safely make love in those conditions Ray, but
frost bite is always a risk." 

" I bet. I still can't believe that we did that, you know." Ray shook his
head. "What a crazy risk. 
Can you imagine if one of the uniforms had come by? Welsh would have had
my butt if we had 
ended up at the precinct for indecent acts. We should just have gone off
to a motel." 

"I don't know, Ray. I think that it had a certain je ne sais quoi." 

"You're right, it certainly did. And I wouldn't trade a minute of it for
the world." Ray smiled 
into Benny's eyes as they lay side by side in the heat still room before
drawing him into a deep 
kiss. After their lips had separated, he continued, "On the other hand, I
think that, on the whole, 
there is something to be said for the comforts of home, not all of which
are limited to the 
bedroom, by the way." 

"What comforts exactly would you be thinking of, Ray?" Ben asked, his
voice making it clear 
that he was not averse to discovering what some of these comforts might
be. He could already 
feel the heat from Ray's lips coursing through his body. 

"Oh, I just thought that since you and I got dirty together so well, we
might also get clean 
together. And since it is summer time, we really should be conserving
water, so showering 
together would be the ecological, not to mention the erotic, thing to do."


Ben's cheeks flushed as he thought of what getting clean together might
entail, and given the 
gleam in Ray's eyes, it was obvious that they were on the same
wave-length. But as he thought 
back to last night's solo shower activities, he blushed even more deeply.
He hoped that his 
father's ghost would be unlikely to appear this time. 
*** 

Their progress to the bathroom was impeded by the fact that they were not
able to keep their 
hands, or their lips, off of each other.  They ended up, just inside the
doorway, in each other's 
arms, their mouths melding and their groins grinding together. Ben's hands
slid downward, 
cupping Ray's buttocks in his palms, feeling the firmness of Ray's flesh,
pressing Ray into his 
growing need, reveling in Ray's response. Ray backed Ben against the
counter and Ben arched 
forward against Ray's body, his buttocks caught against the edge of the
vanity, his torso bending 
backwards under the intensity of Ray's passionate onslaught, his body on
fire. He could feel 
Ray's burgeoning erection pressing against his own, their cocks sliding
slick with pre-cum and 
sweat over each other in an erotic unity of purpose. If they didn't stop
soon, they were not even 
going to make it to the shower, Ben thought wryly. 

As if reading his mind, Ray pulled his mouth from Ben's as they continued
to move against each 
other.  Breathing hard, he groaned, "God, Benny, you turn me on." His hot
breath tickling the 
rim of Ben's ear, he continued, "I want you to fuck me. Right here. Right
now." 

Ben's erection jumped at the raw need in Ray's voice and the palpable
desire in the warm room. 
He couldn't think of a single reason why he shouldn't act on Ray's urgent
request, and he 
couldn't think of a single reason why he wouldn't want to. All he could
think of was wanting to 
be joined with Ray, to be inside of him. 

His hands massaging Ray's buttocks, Ben's knee went between Ray's legs and
forced them 
apart. Ray moaned as Ben slid his fingers into the crack of Ray's ass,
pulled the cheeks apart and 
probed Ray's anus deftly. Ray's body shivered as Ben slipped the tip of
his index finger into the 
yielding little hole and he pushed his hips hard against Ben's groin,
Ben's tongue slipping in and 
out of Ray's mouth in time to his anal explorations. 

"Oh, Benny, yes." Ray managed to whisper. "Please, fuck me." 

"Oh, I will, Ray. Don't you worry." Ben's finger continued to investigate
Ray's anus, sliding in 
and out of the hot silky smoothness. So smooth, he marvelled, so smooth
and so tight. He felt 
overwhelmed at the thought of pushing his cock into that part of Ray, awed
at the trust Ray had 
in him. "Ray, we need, well, we need..." 

"Behind you, in the drawer." Ray interrupted, and catching Ben's startled
look, warned, "Just 
don't ask, Benny." 

"Understood." Ben withdrew his finger and gently pushed Ray back so that
he could slide out 
from between him and the counter while Ray pulled open the drawer with
fingers made urgent 
by desire. Ben, unable to risk losing contact with Ray's sweet skin for an
instant, moved behind 
him. Encircling Ray with his arms, deft fingers finding the already erect
nubs of Ray's nipples, 
Ben thrust up against Ray's buttocks, his cock sliding along the cleft
between them. Ray moaned 
and pushed backwards against Ben's cock. 

Finally locating the condoms and lube, Ray looked up and caught sight of
himself in Benny's 
embrace in the mirror, the late afternoon light spilling into the shadowy
room from the doorway 
behind them, catching the edges of Benny's shoulders, gilding his sweat
dampened hair, 
outlining him against the dusky backdrop of the bathroom. Just at that
moment Benny looked up 
and their eyes met. A charge went through Ray's body, the desire in
Benny's eyes matched by 
the burning in his own linked through their mirrored reflections. 

Wordlessly he placed the condom in Benny's hand and reluctant to take his
eyes from the erotic 
tableau reflected in the mirror, he turned to face his lover. 

Ben fumbled with tearing open the packaging around the condom. He hated to
admit it, but he 
had never put a condom on himself (or anyone else for that matter) and
while he knew the basics 
of what safer sex entailed, he wasn't a hundred per cent sure of the
mechanics.  Catching sight of 
the two of them in the mirror had shaken him: he hadn't been prepared for
the pure sexual 
intensity of the image, nor had he been prepared for his own desire to
watch himself and Ray 
making love; however, if the scorching looks that had passed between
himself and Ray in the 
mirror were any indication, Ray would not be adverse to being bent over
the counter and soundly 
fucked. 

In the meantime, Ray, clearly identifying the problem, grinned at him and
said, "Condoms 101: 
now pay close attention to the teacher, Benny" as he applied a dab of lube
to the end of Ben's 
already slippery cock. Swirling his thumb over the head of Ben's cock to
spread the lube around, 
Ray deftly rolled the condom in place, carefully making sure that the air
was out of its tip. 
Taking Ben's hand, Ray squeezed lube into his palm and instructed him to
spread it on the 
outside of his condom sheathed cock. While the movement of his lube-slick
hands on his cock 
with an appreciative audience was highly stimulating, Ben's need to make
Ray his overrode his 
latent exhibitionism. He turned Ray to face the mirror and saw in Ray's
face a mirror of his own 
desires. 

Ray, his voice husky with need, begged: "Tell me what you are going to do
to me, Benny." 

Ben swallowed hard, part of him wanting to say those forbidden words, to
share his darkest 
desires with Ray, and part of him afraid that he wouldn't be able to
overcome his reticence. Ray 
pushed his ass back against Ben's lube-slick cock and whispered, "Tell me,
Benny, tell me what 
you want to do. Do you want to fuck me, Benny? Put your cock up my ass?" 

Ben groaned and grasping Ray's hips, thrust in time to Ray's movement, his
cock sliding along 
Ray's ass, his eyes dark and wide, watching as the two of them moved
together in the mirror. 
Ray's hands strayed up to his own nipples and he started teasing them, his
eyes never leaving 
Ben's, his cock hard and glistening, reflected back to them in the dim
light of the mirror. Ray's 
left hand moved down to grasp his own cock, and as he slowly circled the
tip with his index 
finger, the sensuous abandon with which he touched himself drew Ben out of
his silence. 

Hesitantly, in only a hoarse whisper at first, he said, "I want to make
love to you, Ray. I want 
to... I need to, Ray." He continued to thrust against Ray's ass, his cock
already aching with need, 
his mind leaping ahead, seeing Ray splayed out on the counter, his face
suffused with desire, Ben 
behind him, pumping his cock into Ray's ass. 

"How are you going to do it, Benny? How are you going to fuck me?" Ray
grasped his cock 
firmly and stroked it in time to Ben's pelvic thrusts, his head lolling
back on Ben's shoulder. "I 
want details." He licked his lips salaciously. Ben quivered with
anticipation. 

"I'm... I'm going to ... bend you over the counter, Ray, and then I'm
going to... to" Ben paused 
to consider his wording here. He didn't really think that  engage in anal
intercourse' was quite 
the way he wanted to it, but he wasn't sure he could get the other words
out. 

Here goes, he thought, and continued on resolutely. "Then I'm going to
bugger you, Ray." He 
took a deep breath, and elaborated, "I'm going to... to fuck my cock up
your ass, Ray, until you 
come." 

Ray groaned and let his head fall forwards, his hands abandoning his
self-pleasuring and coming 
to grasp the edge of the counter. Benny's innocent awkwardness was
intensely erotic for Ray. 
Forcing him to describe the sexual act about to take place had left Ray
shaken by its power to 
move him. All he wanted now was for Benny to push into his body, to
penetrate him, to violate 
his corporeal isolation, to effect a sweet violation, a union of souls.
"Show me," he whispered. 
"Make me yours, Benny." 

Ben pressed up against Ray's back, bending him forward until his upper
body lay along the 
counter, his right hand grasping the end edge of the counter.
Straightening up, Ben pushed Ray's 
feet apart with his own. Holding the lube bottle at the base of Ray's
spine he squeezed a 
generous amount between Ray's buttocks and used his fingers to spread the
slick cool gel down 
to Ray's anus. Carefully inserting his fingers into Ray's ass he worked
lube into Ray's tight hole 
while his other hand moved below to gently fondle Ray's balls. Ray's ass
pressed backwards 
onto his fingers and Ben could hear Ray's soft moans of pleasure as his
fingers grazed Ray's 
prostate, could see the luminous green eyes dark with desire reflected
back to him in the mirror. 

He was causing this response in Ray, Ben thought, in awe of the sheer
intensity of it. Slowly he 
withdrew his fingers and, grasping his cock, he directed the tip into the
tight opening to Ray's 
body. Holding on to Ray's hips to steady himself, he rocked forward, the
head of his cock sliding 
easily past Ray's sphincter muscles. He wasn't prepared for the heat of
Ray's rectum, or the 
enveloping tension surrounding his more than eager cock, the even and
intense pressure bearing 
down on the sensitive head from all sides as it pushed through the ring of
muscle. Withdrawing 
slightly, Ben pushed forward again into Ray's velvety sheath, the pressure
and warmth 
enveloping his cock like second skin. 

Ray's moans intensified as the head of Benny's cock bumped across his
prostate and his rectum 
involuntarily tightened around the source of his pleasure. Ray's knuckles
whitened as he gripped 
the edge of the counter bracing himself; his left hand moving down to
touch his aching cum-slippery cock.   He was now fully impaled on Benny's
cock; he could feel the pressure of 
Benny's hips against his ass cheeks, Benny's balls tight up against his
perineum. 

He looked at the mirror and shuddered spontaneously as he watched Benny
pull back and plunge 
forward again and again, his hips and balls slapping against Ray's ass;
watched himself respond 
as the passage of Benny's cock across his sensitive prostate was writ
large on his sweat-shiny 
face; watched as the instinctive tensing of his rectal muscles caused
Benny, his eyes half-closed 
and suffused with lust, to bite his lower lip to keep from crying out;
watched as his own mouth 
formed the words, "Oh God, Benny, oh God" in mindless repetition; watched
as he came, 
watching, his ass clenching down on Benny's hard cock. 

Ben's mouth filled with the taste of blood as he bit down on his lip
trying, desperately, and 
failing, gloriously, to freeze the moment, to balance on the knife's edge
of release as he pumped 
into Ray's spasming rectum, his hands gripping Ray's hips hard enough to
bruise. His body 
curled forward reflexively around his lover and came to rest cradling Ray
against his heaving 
chest as his cock slid out of Ray's anus. Struggling to breathe, Ray's
name catching in his throat, 
Ben pulled Ray up into his arms. Sweat trickled down the back of Ray's
neck, and Ben traced its 
beaded path, the salt tang sharp on his tongue. 

Ray's breathing was returning to normal and Ben could feel the trip hammer
beat of Ray's heart 
slowing against his arm. His own vital signs also coming under control,
Ben finally trusted 
himself to meet Ray's clear gaze in the mirror. Their eyes locked and
Ben's demure smile was 
met by Ray's broad grin.  Shyly Ben whispered, "Thank you kindly, Ray." 

 "Oh Gawd, Benny, I *do* love you. And believe me, the pleasure was all
mine." Ray said, 
beaming. 

Ben's eyebrow quirked up. "I beg to differ Ray: the pleasure was all mine,
as well." 
  
*** 

Standing under the stream of warm water, Ben's fingers idly traced the
paths of the shampoo 
bubbles running down the centre of  Ray's chest, his mind caught up in a
combination of post-coital languor and the numbing heat of the shower.  He
was still finding it difficult to come to 
terms with the rapid way in which his life, their lives, had changed over
the course of less than 
24 hours. 

"Ray?" 

"Yes, Benny?" Ray ducked his head under the warm stream of water, rinsing
the shampoo out of 
his hair. 

"Does this mean that the score is tied?"Ben asked, disingenuously, his
deadpan delivery flawless 
but for the decidedly wicked gleam in his eyes. 

Ray's eyes snapped open, and he blinked rapidly as the last of the soap
inadvertently washed 
into them. "Yeah, I guess so, Benny." He agreed, grinning. 

"So what happens now, Ray?" Ben asked, deliberately keeping his tone
light; waiting, 
nevertheless, for an expression of Ray's commitment. He didn't need to
wait long. 

Ray took Ben into his arms and kissed him before whispering in his ear,
"Extra innings, Benny. 
Lots and lots of extra innings."                         The End 

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