[ He had to drink in Ray's expressions too. They were what he was responding to, what he was working for, and Ray's enraptured focus, the hot blackness of his mouth between his parted lips, the arousal visible in his eyes--he was pressing all Ray's buttons, and that...that was worth it. So worth it. Ray obeyed his instruction, and a moment later the tips of soft fingers slid against his wrist, exploring his hand, his fingers, and settling over the backs of his knuckles. He could feel everything there, Fraser knew: the angle of his wrist; the resistance as he pushed inside, how many fingers he was using.
Good. Perfect. He braced himself with an inhale and pushed inside, two fingers now, his eyes fluttering closed, lips parting in utter silence. It was a moan without the moan, an 'Oh' in the curl of his lips, a flash of teeth as Fraser beamed with unbridled joy for the space of a fraction of a second. And then his mouth was closed, his eyes were open - albeit barely - lashes dewy, almost brushing their moisture against his burning cheeks.
Ray got a syllable then. Past muscle, he pushed his fingers in deeper, and he exhaled the all too familiar: ]
Hmm.
[ Only it wasn't quite like any hm that had come before. It was deep and thoughtful, yes, but satisfied, engaged, wanton. Two fingers was shallower than one, but that was okay, they were doing their job, stretching him wide, driving Ray crazy, putting him right there in this moment and in the hundreds of other times he'd done this over the years--every one of them.
His lips quirk again, almost as though he can't help himself. Ray swore, white teeth sinking into his abused bottom lip, and as his own unpredictable smile softened, it transformed into something of a challenge: watch this! He pushed forward and up with his hips, tightening around himself, before deliberately pushing back again, letting Ray feel as tension first expelled him before he nudged deeper again. His own arousal was starting to come around, although god knew what he hoped to get out of it. Ray would probably come on command if he told him to. ]
Easy. Easy, Ray. Relax. I need you, so please--
[ His other hand slid across the back of Ray's, reaching around his fingers to manually redirect his own third finger, tucking it awkwardly against the first two. He felt rubbery, soft, as relaxed as he'd ever been--trancelike and happy. This was easy; maybe even too easy. Tightening around both hands, lending his own digits further rigidity, strength, he pushed inside again, not hesitating this time because he could reach in deeper than before, curling his fingers with expertise against his prostrate. But more importantly there were Ray's fingers--Ray's fingers touching him as he pushed in knuckle deep. Somehow the foreign element of his partner's fingertips was almost as good as his own hand, the pleasure sparkling like champagne bubbles effervescing deep inside him. He groaned, ducking his chin toward his chest, head bowing toward Ray.
Too soft, too rubbery. No burn--God, he wanted the burn. Needed the burn. He wanted to feel it, to carry it around with him for days like the cuts and bruises to his back, his wrists. ]
Another! [ For that single word he almost sounded angry. But then his eyes were open and he was pleading, staring up at him urgently. ] Oh God, Ray, I need... [ Please understand. ]
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Good. Perfect. He braced himself with an inhale and pushed inside, two fingers now, his eyes fluttering closed, lips parting in utter silence. It was a moan without the moan, an 'Oh' in the curl of his lips, a flash of teeth as Fraser beamed with unbridled joy for the space of a fraction of a second. And then his mouth was closed, his eyes were open - albeit barely - lashes dewy, almost brushing their moisture against his burning cheeks.
Ray got a syllable then. Past muscle, he pushed his fingers in deeper, and he exhaled the all too familiar: ]
Hmm.
[ Only it wasn't quite like any hm that had come before. It was deep and thoughtful, yes, but satisfied, engaged, wanton. Two fingers was shallower than one, but that was okay, they were doing their job, stretching him wide, driving Ray crazy, putting him right there in this moment and in the hundreds of other times he'd done this over the years--every one of them.
His lips quirk again, almost as though he can't help himself. Ray swore, white teeth sinking into his abused bottom lip, and as his own unpredictable smile softened, it transformed into something of a challenge: watch this! He pushed forward and up with his hips, tightening around himself, before deliberately pushing back again, letting Ray feel as tension first expelled him before he nudged deeper again. His own arousal was starting to come around, although god knew what he hoped to get out of it. Ray would probably come on command if he told him to. ]
Easy. Easy, Ray. Relax. I need you, so please--
[ His other hand slid across the back of Ray's, reaching around his fingers to manually redirect his own third finger, tucking it awkwardly against the first two. He felt rubbery, soft, as relaxed as he'd ever been--trancelike and happy. This was easy; maybe even too easy. Tightening around both hands, lending his own digits further rigidity, strength, he pushed inside again, not hesitating this time because he could reach in deeper than before, curling his fingers with expertise against his prostrate. But more importantly there were Ray's fingers--Ray's fingers touching him as he pushed in knuckle deep. Somehow the foreign element of his partner's fingertips was almost as good as his own hand, the pleasure sparkling like champagne bubbles effervescing deep inside him. He groaned, ducking his chin toward his chest, head bowing toward Ray.
Too soft, too rubbery. No burn--God, he wanted the burn. Needed the burn. He wanted to feel it, to carry it around with him for days like the cuts and bruises to his back, his wrists. ]
Another! [ For that single word he almost sounded angry. But then his eyes were open and he was pleading, staring up at him urgently. ] Oh God, Ray, I need... [ Please understand. ]