[ What Ray had been saying before, about wanting to have sex with him in the back of his car, and the comment about Stanley Kowalski's...well the thing about igloos, which sounded ridiculous and made up and therefore probably was--well, the thing about all of that was just how shocking it was. He'd never thought twice about it, had only become aware of his partners' desire for him moments ago, and hadn't had time to come to terms with the full extent of that, nethertheless any of the subtext they'd apparently been developing all along. He really was oblivious to other people's attention, wasn't he? If he couldn't interpret those long lingering looks as sexual desire, then how well could he really say he understood these two men? What else had he been missing?
Was he really that much of an asshole, as Stanley put it? Stringing them along with his red serge and dashing good looks? Yes, probably. He'd made the pair of them moan just by talking; it really was impossible to claim that there was nothing there. God, he'd literally felt the impact his words had had through direct contact with the responsive organ trapped in his hands. There was no misinterpreting that.
Ray ground down against him, and Stanley's lips brushed against his own for but a moment, and he was reminded once again of that moment of stars aligning and crashing to earth at once as their mouths met. It was like everything he'd been waiting for had happened without his realising it. That kiss had felt like...unfolding some part of him that he hadn't known existed, and the little peck was more than reminder enough that he wanted this; that he wasn't afraid.
Stanley peeled back, and Ray slumped against him, more boneless by the second. He wasn't even trying to support his own weight any more. Not that Fraser could blame him. He was still watching over Ray's shoulder, watching rapt as Stanley knelt in front of him and chewed bruises against delicate skin while his hand crept around underneath. He didn't have to see that to know what was happening, not when the tremor and snap of tension it caused went clean through the man in his arms.
Once again he really had to ask himself if this was really happening. Kowalski's threat to Vecchio - if it could even be called that - was that Fraser was going to do the honors, make love to his best friend. The idea thrilled and terrified him; he wanted to do it with every ounce of his courage, while the rest of him wanted to back off and insist on a demonstration first. It was hard to retain any focus, and yet Ray was begging him for something, asking him to... Oh. He looked to his partner for instruction. Stanley would know what to do. Was he supposed to carry on or not?
Looking to his partner for permission--now that was teamwork. The back of his hand brushed Stanley's cheek, but he addressed him by the name both of these men shared. ] Ray?
no subject
Was he really that much of an asshole, as Stanley put it? Stringing them along with his red serge and dashing good looks? Yes, probably. He'd made the pair of them moan just by talking; it really was impossible to claim that there was nothing there. God, he'd literally felt the impact his words had had through direct contact with the responsive organ trapped in his hands. There was no misinterpreting that.
Ray ground down against him, and Stanley's lips brushed against his own for but a moment, and he was reminded once again of that moment of stars aligning and crashing to earth at once as their mouths met. It was like everything he'd been waiting for had happened without his realising it. That kiss had felt like...unfolding some part of him that he hadn't known existed, and the little peck was more than reminder enough that he wanted this; that he wasn't afraid.
Stanley peeled back, and Ray slumped against him, more boneless by the second. He wasn't even trying to support his own weight any more. Not that Fraser could blame him. He was still watching over Ray's shoulder, watching rapt as Stanley knelt in front of him and chewed bruises against delicate skin while his hand crept around underneath. He didn't have to see that to know what was happening, not when the tremor and snap of tension it caused went clean through the man in his arms.
Once again he really had to ask himself if this was really happening. Kowalski's threat to Vecchio - if it could even be called that - was that Fraser was going to do the honors, make love to his best friend. The idea thrilled and terrified him; he wanted to do it with every ounce of his courage, while the rest of him wanted to back off and insist on a demonstration first. It was hard to retain any focus, and yet Ray was begging him for something, asking him to... Oh. He looked to his partner for instruction. Stanley would know what to do. Was he supposed to carry on or not?
Looking to his partner for permission--now that was teamwork. The back of his hand brushed Stanley's cheek, but he addressed him by the name both of these men shared. ] Ray?