Requiem For An Underpants by Misha Requiem for an Underpants Jan, 2000 Misha http://www.madstop.org/misha/ The boys, alas, are not mine. This was not created for profit, more's the pity. Rated NC-17 for m/m sex RayK looses his ... underpants in a game of poker. Fraser tapped the cards on the table. "I'll take that underpants now, Ray." Ray leaned back, spreading his knees slightly, a challenging grin curling at the corners of his mouth. "I'm tapped out." Fraser's eyes never strayed from Ray's face, but his eyebrow inched up a bit. "I'll accept an IOU." Ray's disbelief was patent. "An IOU on underpants?" "I want you to honor your wager." Fraser leaned forward a hair. Ray slouched back, spreading his knees further, challenging. "That's stupid." "I suppose we could come up with an equitable remuneration in lieu of the underpants." He thumbed his eyebrow, only now letting his gaze slide over Ray's sprawled display. "Equi-wha?" "A good substitute, Ray. Since you are out of... underpants." His partner snorted at that. "And what, exactly, do you have in mind?" Fraser was now leaning into his personal space, his breathing a shade quicker than normal. "Well, the mostly logical alternative would be what normally resides within your underpants." Ray suddenly sucked in his breath as Fraser's thumb ran up the inside seam of his pants to the center, and then up the zipper. "Yeah, I suppose that'd work." His reply was somewhat breathless. Their eyes locked, and Fraser slowly drew down Ray's zipper, the harsh sound echoing around them in the lull of their conversation. He slipped his hand inside the pants and pulled out Ray's erection, which pulsed hot and heavy in his hand. "You got me Frase, whatcha gonna do with me now?" Ray's finger's dug into his chair. Fraser smiled suddenly. "I think a detailed investigation is in order." He darted one last look at the door before dropping to his knees before Ray. A single, tentative foray of the tongue set Ray to shuddering, and Fraser dropped his free hand to Ray's hips, leaning into them to keep his partner still. He set his lips around Ray's cock and slowly inched his way down to the base. Ray moaned quietly, quietly in that he probably couldn't be heard much past the second stairwell. Fraser would have smiled, had his mouth not been full. Instead, his nose tickled by the stunningly soft curls, he simply swallowed. "Frase!" Ray's voice sounded like a strangled moose, an oddly familiar and yet entirely arousing sound, and Fraser endeavored to encourage the same sound again. He had to restrain Ray as he tried to buck wildly in the chair with each successive swallow. "Fr-Fr-Frase!" Ray seemed to be gaining some coherence again, so Fraser switched his tactics, letting Ray slip from his mouth before devouring him again in one slow, sucking motion. Ray was once more reduced to breathless incoherent moans, and Fraser kept him there, his hips twitching impotently under Fraser's firmly placed forearm. Fraser looked up and watched Ray writhe. It was time to take this home where they could do this properly, without endangering Detective Huey's tux, and giving him free reign to the rest of Ray's golden, sweating skin. Fraser ran his free hand around the base of Ray's cock, fondled the sweet heaviness of his balls, and let one finger drop to the soft perineum below. He pressed lightly, and swallowed Ray fully again. This time Ray's cry was silent, his lungs already empty of breath. He filled Fraser's mouth as his head filled with stars and his vision whitened out. When it cleared, Fraser was still crouched between his legs, licking a faint glistening film from his lips. Ray's eyes crossed, then focused, and then *focused*, this time on the open collar of Fraser's shirt. "What say..." He croaked, then coughed. "What say we take this party home?" Fraser smiled slowly, an incendiary grin that started a fire again under Ray's toes and spread swiftly upwards. He growled softly. "Of course my little love turtle." His eyes raked Ray's sprawled, satiated body. "You still haven't paid your wager fully." Ray grinned and stood slowly, sparks still dancing before his eyes. You teach a Mountie to play poker, and you pay and pay and pay... The End This is what happens when Misha is sick and her muses prod her write in a delerium. Not that that's a bad thing. And thanks to Louise and Genie for the underpants idea. Feedback welcome at