Surprised By Joy	Surprised By Joy…or Sometimes A Guy Is Just A Guy
 Meghan Black, c. 2000
 
 Music drifted like smoke down to the front foyer. Fraser stepped through
the door to the building and stopped for a moment, letting it wash over
him while fighting the urge to rush up the steps, fling open the door and
attack his partner. Attack in a good way.
 
 The deep, throaty sounds of a saxophone enveloped him in the warmth he
knew waited upstairs. The weather was mild…actually pleasant, but the neck
of his dark brown uniform jacket suddenly felt stiff and abrasive against
the smooth skin of his throat, while his respiration kicked things up a
notch, both in his breathing and his pants. Suddenly one floor's worth of
stairs was exceedingly to much distance to cover.
 
 Primal pulse of drums accompanied the sax now and Fraser's heart matched
the beat. He stood motionless in the door, knowing Ray was still unaware
of his presence. He wanted to just watch for a minute, allow his thoughts
to run rampant, released of social niceties and good manners. Here he was
no longer an officer of the law, but a man, hungry and needful of that
which only Ray could give him.
 
 Ray's back was to Fraser as he stood at the kitchen counter. No sign or
smell of dinner, but food was the last thing on Fraser's mind. He simply
let himself admire the view while bringing the rest of his body back under
control…or some semblance thereof. Ray couldn't have looked sexier if he'd
been on his knees on the floor, buck naked, ass in the air.
 
 Fraser must have made a sound, because Ray turned his head slightly,
noticing the Mountie standing at the door through peripheral vision.
Maintaining his stance at the counter, his hands occupied with some task
Fraser still hadn't identified, Ray's attention wavered but a moment. 
 
 “Come on in. Be done in a sec,” Ray said, brandishing a pair of pliers in
the air before resuming his work.
 
 “No hurry.” 
 
 No, none at all. Fraser would just stand there and drink in the sight of
whipcord muscles sliding effortlessly beneath smooth maleness. Ray wore
only a pair of Fraser's RCMP sweatpants, worn and thin from too many
washings in rough conditions where fabric softener was just a rumor. They
fell low on his hips, held up only by the firm swell of Ray's ass.
 
 Shoulder muscles rolled as Ray twisted something in his hand, elbow out
as he strained to pull then push, and finally, as whatever he was
struggling with popped lose, heaving a deep, cleansing breath. As Fraser
caught his.
 
 Fraser smiled and began to slide out of his jacket. Half turning, he put
it away in the hall closet before unbuttoning his lightweight khaki shirt
at the neck. Freedom of movement was welcomed as the cool air walked
softly across his Adam's apple.
 
 He took a step forward and the world shifted. The music changed tempo and
Ray caught the beat with his hips, threatening dire consequences for the
precarious drape of the sweatpants. Two more steps and the heat from Ray's
back scorched Fraser through both of layers of cotton still covering his
chest. Ray must have known Fraser was there, so close that he could have
leaned back into the broad, solid body if he'd chosen. But he simply
continued working…and swaying. Fraser inhaled, then breathed out slowly,
watching the short hairs at the base of Ray's skull flutter.
 
 With eyes closed and nostrils slightly flared to catch the Ray-scent
wafting around them, Fraser was once more reminded of exactly what had
drawn him to this man. His calloused hands, short, spiky hair, rough,
perpetually shadowed jaw. Solid hardness, solid masculinity. Fraser didn't
have to worry about hurting him as his fingers closed firmly around sharp
hipbone, pressing only slightly into the soft flesh before hitting firm
sinew and muscle. His thumbs massaged circles into Ray's lower back before
drifting lower to cup the perfectly solid globes below. 
 
 No feminine curves or lush, soft flesh to lose himself in here. The body
now moving seductively in his hands represented everything sure and safe
and secure in his world. They could serve and protect the world…and each
other. They were partners, representing a truth only recently discovered
when danger had lurked around one too many corners. 
 
 Loud clatter of metal on Formica as the pliers lay abandoned and Ray
lurched back, head turned to the side in offering. Fraser accepted and let
his lips brush Ray's neck for only a second before biting down on hot
skin…hard. He was more concerned with the persistent pulsing of blood to
his cock, growing thick and heavy between his legs, than he was with
hurting Ray. He did, however, soothe the spot with a broad swipe of his
tongue before tugging slender hips back into the bulge in his pants. Ray
ground into him, rubbing up and down until the loose pants finally
dislodged to puddle around his feet.
 
 Fraser's hand swept around to the front, seeking and finding a tight nub
to roll and pinch. His palm flattened over Ray's chest as he rubbed across
breastbone, sternum…no full, soft mounds of flesh here…then downward to
walk across the tight plane of Ray's stomach, working his ribs like steps
leading down to heaven.
 
 Loud breath of two strong men filled the apartment, interrupted by the
occasional moan fueled by wandering hands, tweaking fingers and tightly
pressed body parts. Fraser was reluctant to release Ray, but the man's
next words caused him to flinch in near pain as his cock jerked and
twitched, forcing him to let go long enough to rid himself of clothing as
quickly as possible.
 
 When both men stood skin to skin once more, slipping and sliding through
trails of sweat, Ray repeated the plea. No, the command. The breathy, male
grunt.
 
 “Do me now.”
 
 A groan started somewhere deep in Fraser's gut and cut through the
testosterone fog. His fingers tightened on Ray's hip and across the
clenched muscles of his stomach, yanking Ray back so that cock fit to ass
…just so.
 
 “Do. Me. Now. Ben.” It was a growl this time. A warning.
 
 Ray braced himself against the counter, somehow knocking the pliers off
the surface to skitter noisily across the floor. Fraser kicked them away
impatiently and scanned the rest of the countertop. There it was. Grabbing
the bottle of vegetable oil near the stove, he released Ray's hip to twist
the top off one-handed. 
 
 Ray moaned his disappointment when the next moment both hands
disappeared, but then sighed appreciatively when one returned, wetly slick
between his legs, nudging and seeking…then finding. Ray's feet spread
farther and Fraser stepped into the space, pressing tightly against Ray's
back, licking the small rivulets of sweat trailing along his spine,
occasionally punctuating the nuzzles with fierce little bites of
possessiveness. 
 
 Ray reached behind, grappling for a hold on the solidness his body
craved. He found Fraser's left hip and reached out, claw like, raking his
nails along the smooth expanse of thigh and leg. His grip faltered when
one long, blunt finger brushed against sensitive flesh, guarded by tight
muscle. Ray sucked air through his teeth and squirmed against the questing
hand, opening himself further. 
 
 “If you don't fucking FUCK ME NOW…!”
 
 Fraser knew it was too soon. One finger did not make an ass ready for
fucking. But Ray's words, fueled by the hand now sliding from his leg to
his dick, somehow convinced him it was ok. He slid his finger out and
quickly replaced it with the flushed red crown, grunting softly with the
effort not to just shove himself in ball-deep. 
 
 Ray felt the oil dribbling down the inside of his thigh and shivered, his
body flushed and oversensitive. Fraser pressed another inch, crying out as
he slipped through the snug opening…and stopped. 
 
 Ray snarled and stepped back, impaling himself on Fraser's cock, causing
his lover to finally release his breath and begin a keening, urgent chant.

 
 “OhgodRayohgodRayohgodRay…”
 
 Instinct proved more powerful than the tightly controlled veneer of
civilization he wore outside the door of this apartment. Fraser pulled
out, stopping when tightly gripping muscles tugged him back in. Then slid
home, shuddering with the ecstasy and the heat of Ray's hot channel. Nasty
little slapping sounds echoed as they fucked hard and stroked long. 
 
 “Ooooh fuuuuck,” Ray joined the mantra, counterpoint to Fraser's cry for
divine guidance. 
 
 Fraser's hips had caught the rhythm of their words, pulling out with each
“ooooh” and shoving back as deeply as possible on the “fuuuuuck”. Both
words and movements set the pace for Fraser's hand, gripped tightly around
Ray's hard shaft. So good….so good…so good. Hand palming slickly over the
top before sliding back down to tighten at the base, letting Ray fuck his
hand at his own pace.
 
 “NOW….NOOOOWWWWW!!!” And Fraser felt the liquid heat roll over his fist
in pulsing waves.
 
 Fraser was caught in a vice of spasming muscles and had no choice but to
ride the waves to his own completion, finally stilling Ray's thrustlike
movements when the sensation of being milked became too much.
 
 Both men supported themselves on the counter's edge, breath coming in
great gulping drags of air. The smell of sweat and oil and come was
dizzying and Fraser finally succumbed to the call of the floor and slid
down the cabinet doors to rest on cool tile. Ray joined him, sprawling
between Fraser's legs to rest his head against the still heaving chest.
 
 “Oh man,” Ray said, snickering at the mess they'd made, while turning to
quickly lick at a patch of pooled sweat on Fraser's shoulder.
 
 “Exactly, Ray. Man.” 
 
 Ray looked at Fraser curiously, then shook his head, not even ready to
try to decipher Fraser-speak yet. But one thing he did know. He didn't
even want to contemplate a future without this man, right here, behind
him, holding him. And nothing had ever felt as good as the strong arms,
now petting and stroking his spiked wet hair with pure love and devotion.
 
 Finis