[Right now, with Fraser under him drifting through a post-orgasmic haze, Ray's pretty sure he doesn't care how sudden or late that was. He'd be happy if they stopped right there, if Fraser were to drift asleep and they lay there for the rest of the afternoon. They'd have plenty of other chances, plenty more time for the two of them to writhe and squirm and buck against each other, and while Ray may not be the patient type, he's pretty sure he can be for this. Possibly.
The hands in his hair were a good call when he made that request what seems like hours ago, and he barely even thinks about them still clinging until Fraser uses the grip to pull him in. Ray catches himself with a hand on the bed, enough to prevent him dropping his full weight onto his partner as the kiss comes in, breathless on both sides and thankfully forgiving after what he'd just put his mouth through. His tongue aches, but he still willingly brushes it against Benton's as that tongue invades his mouth. Fraser will taste himself, he's certain of that, but that might just be the intention. There's not much out there that the Mountie won't try to taste, after all. He huffs and groans against that invading mouth until that grip releases and the kiss break apart, leaving him staring far too closely into the stormy eyes opposite.
Of course Fraser would apologise. Of course. Even though he'd survived far longer than Ray ever thinks he could. In fact, he's not even sure he'd manage five seconds if Fraser were to touch him right now, let alone managing to last it out through a blow job. But a Canadian will always be Canadian, and Stanley supposes he can't blame him for that, even as he quietly agrees to the request, even as he leans back in to nuzzle lazily into the crook of Fraser's neck.]
Somethin' about you bein' a moron. And I guess maybe me bein' kinda dumb too. Or maybe just blind, but shit, I got my sight back just fine now. [And it was like going from black and white to full out HD technicolor in the space of a day.]
no subject
The hands in his hair were a good call when he made that request what seems like hours ago, and he barely even thinks about them still clinging until Fraser uses the grip to pull him in. Ray catches himself with a hand on the bed, enough to prevent him dropping his full weight onto his partner as the kiss comes in, breathless on both sides and thankfully forgiving after what he'd just put his mouth through. His tongue aches, but he still willingly brushes it against Benton's as that tongue invades his mouth. Fraser will taste himself, he's certain of that, but that might just be the intention. There's not much out there that the Mountie won't try to taste, after all. He huffs and groans against that invading mouth until that grip releases and the kiss break apart, leaving him staring far too closely into the stormy eyes opposite.
Of course Fraser would apologise. Of course. Even though he'd survived far longer than Ray ever thinks he could. In fact, he's not even sure he'd manage five seconds if Fraser were to touch him right now, let alone managing to last it out through a blow job. But a Canadian will always be Canadian, and Stanley supposes he can't blame him for that, even as he quietly agrees to the request, even as he leans back in to nuzzle lazily into the crook of Fraser's neck.]
Somethin' about you bein' a moron. And I guess maybe me bein' kinda dumb too. Or maybe just blind, but shit, I got my sight back just fine now. [And it was like going from black and white to full out HD technicolor in the space of a day.]