In the Supermarket	 In the Supermarket (c) 1997, JoAnne Soper Cook
 All Rights Reserved
 

 

This story is a work of fiction. All characters are the property of
Alliance Releasing and are used without permission, solely without profit.
Otherwise, this story is the property of the author. May be freely
distributed as long as this header is included, and as long as it is not
distributed for profit.  

(I haven't written a DS story for awhile, but tonight while Paul and I
were in the supermarket, this came to me. For those who don't know me,
Paul is my husband, not to mention my best buddy. Anyway, I was limping
around the supermarket because I have osteoarthritis and it was cold
outside. At one point, we noticed an older woman looking at us and Paul
leaned close and said, "She's going to think I beat you!" which made us
laugh, because he's never laid a hand on me and furthermore---it created
this story.) 

"Eggs." Ray Vecchio steered the shopping cart around a display of plastic
ice-cube containers. He was leaning heavily on the bright yellow handle,
limping a little from a bullet that had found its way deep into the muscle
of his thigh. "We need eggs."  

"Ray, do you think---"	

"Hey, they got mozzarella in bulk."  

"Ray, perhaps you should---"  

"Lay off me, Benny." Vecchio cast a wry glance at his lover, the tall
Mountie who paced thoughtfully beside the wheelish wire basket. "You know
I can't sit around on my butt all the time."  

"It's hardly been a week since you were hit. I think you should have
stayed home. In bed."  

Benton Fraser reached past Vecchio to grab a carton of skimmed milk, drop
it into the cart. "Your doctor would hardly countenance such a...*speedy*
recovery."  

"Yeah well, what he doesn't know won't hurt him." Vecchio turned his face
away as a wave of pain scampered on evil metal claws, bit back the gasping
in-breath that would betray him.  

"And I don't need *you* yakking about how I should be home in bed. What
are you, my mother?"  

Fraser leaned close, smiled gently. "Your lover."  

"Ouch." Vecchio's face melted into a warm grin, that smile that Fraser
knew so well and loved. "Dammit, Benny..." His fingers reached to clasp
the Mountie's lean white jaw, rub a furtive thumb across his full lower
lip. He felt the way he always did when Bennie smiled at him: as if his
heart might burst. "I would have stayed home in bed if you were possibly
to join me..." A thousand sensuous possibilities chased themselves across
the surface of his mind, each one more delectable than the last.  

"Yogurt." The Mountie's soft voice broke into his thoughts.  

"Huh?" Vecchio blinked, irritated.  

"We need yogurt."  

"Huh." Vecchio leaned on the handle of the cart, pointed to the dairy
shelf. "Get cherry flavour. Not that pineapple crap."  

"Oh---" Fraser dropped the confection into the cart. "---I need to get
biscuits for Diefenbaker. He'd never forgive me if I came home without
them. It won't be a minute." He disappeared around the corner, left
Vecchio contemplating the chilly breeze from the dairy case.  

"Now look here, sonny---" A creaking voice, the cultivated wisdom of the
crone. Vecchio turned to look behind him, beheld a small, stately woman:
elderly, wrapped in a warm winter's coat, her hand tucked deep inside a
fur muff. "---I noticed you and that other fella there---"  

*Oh God, here it comes, another homophobic lecture!*  

"---and I know what's going on here."  

"Listen, lady, with all due respect, do you think it's any of your damned
business?" His leg had begun to hurt again, a vicious pounding pain that
resounded in his psyche like a drum-beat. "Now run along and buy your cat
food or whatever it is. Go on, get outta here." He leaned heavily on the
cart's plastic handle, rubbed a hand across his forehead. *God, Benny,
hurry up, wouldya?*  

"Well, I think it *is* my business." She laid a hand on the cart, leaned
close in a confidential manner. "Your boyfriend, that big fellow---" She
paused to glance behind her. "--- does he, you know...?"  

Ray stared at her. "Does he *what*?!"  

"You know---" She lowered her voice till it became the merest breath of
whisper. "---beat you up?"  

Ray's eyes started out of his head.  

"Because it's not just limited to heterosexual couples, you know---I've
read about these things in Ladies' Home Journal. I'm not as old-fashioned
as you might think. I know about these things."  

"Does he beat me up?" Ray was astonished, could do nothing but stare at
her. He honestly couldn't imagine Benny laying a hand on him in anything
but love. "My God, no!"  

"Don't be ashamed to admit it! You need to get help! I saw you limping
like that! It's an outrage!"  

"Uh, lady, you got it all wrong, you see Benny----"  

"Yes, Ray?"  

The object of her ire had conveniently materialised. "You should be
*ashamed*!" She lifted a withered hand from her muff to gesture at Fraser.
"I know all about your kind! Oh yes---"  

"Excuse me, ma'am---" Fraser cast a quizzical glance at Ray. "---Ray, what
is this all about?"  

"She thinks you beat me." A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth;
his green eyes twinkled with something very like mischief. "There's no use
denying it, Benny. You've been trying to deny it, but the truth is
evident."  

Fraser's right eyebrow traveled a micron further towards his hairline. "I
*beat* you?"  

"So you admit it!" The old woman darted a triumphant glance at Ray, dipped
into her muff and withdrew holding a crisp white business card. "Here,
sonny. You call this number and get some help! You don't need to put up
with abuse from this... *brute*!" With a final,disgusted glance at Fraser,
she disappeared into the produce section.  

There was silence for a long moment. "She thinks I'm beating you."  

Ray reached for a pound of butter. "Yeah."  

"Ray." A sudden urgency in the voice, that subtext of beating blood.  

"Huh?"	

"Put the butter down."	

"Benny?"  

"Now." A cool white hand gripped his wrist, squeezed until he dropped the
butter back into the dairy case.  

"Get out. Go." A strong hand underneath his elbow, supporting him, a
strong arm around his waist, a subtle heat like lust. "To the car."  

"Benny---"  

"Shut up." Fraser reached across him and unlocked the Riv with a deft
motion, held the door in silence while Ray slipped painfully inside.  

"My leg hurts. What the hell are you playing at, Fraser?"  

"Shut up." Fraser's blue eyes gleamed in the dim fluorescent light. "Ray."
Something softened in his gaze as he reached across and tilted Ray's face
to his. "I love you." His hands, ungloved, were warm. Ray's eyes fluttered
closed as Fraser's hot mouth descended, a gentle plunder.  

"Oh Benny oh Benny..." Too good, this was just too good to endure, this
heat of him in the cold cruel darkness of a winter's night....	

"She asked me if you beat me." Ray leaned on one elbow, gazed down into
Fraser's face. The Mountie was relaxed, sated, drifting sleepily between
dark and light.  

"Ray, I would never hurt you." The Mountie's fingers rested on Ray's
chest, idly.  

"You were dangerous to me tonight---just for that moment, in the store,
when you told me to get out, I---" He frowned, his smooth olive brow
flexing, fighting to frame the sentiment in an appropriate rhetoric.  

"It's fun. Isn't it?" Fraser's blue eyes, amazingly dark, impossibly wide.
His head descended, resting against Ray's smooth belly. "Being dangerous."
 

Vecchio managed to gasp one last command before Fraser's hot mouth
swallowed his cock.  

"Benny. Don't hurt me."