[ It was all he could do to bite back on a whimper as Stanley's hand slipped free, his teeth receding to be replaced by hot huffs as the other man tried to work out how to proceed. He was quick, Ray had to give him that, although you really had to be in this business. Well--the police business, not the sex business. That could take all day (not the sex business, the business of sex--oh what the hell ever). Of course what Kowalski needed his hands for Ray hadn't worked out yet, but that was fine. Fraser was relaxing his death grip now, trembling even, and Ray could sense that layer of trepidation from before: Fraser responding to his own fight or flight instincts. Maybe Kowalski had overestimated him.
He tilted his head into his partner's, his cheek brushing reassuringly against Fraser's, his voice low and velvet dark with arousal. ]
It's alright, Benny. One at a time. You can't do it wrong.
[ Those were apparently the right words, because Fraser let him go. In lieu of waiting to see whether or not the feeling was going to come back in his fingers, and in advance of Fraser losing his footing for whatever reason, Ray eased forward - it was easier without hands kneading at his genitals to force his legs to lock - bracing himself against the wall in front of him with one arm.
It gave him a view of the top of Stanley's head, nuzzled in against his groin, his own arousal appearing to stand erect from a nest of blonde spikes. He reached down, squeezed his hand roughly around the base of his own erection, his balls, chasing himself back from the edge, before letting his precome wet fingers wander and knot in Kowalski's mad nineties hair. Fraser's mouth grazed against his back - over a scar, maybe - and then there was the perfumed grease scent of the lubricant to assure him that the Mountie really wasn't going to run away. ]
That's it Benny. Just push--Oh. [ This was a treat, an unparalleled moment of perfection, because life was going to seem impossibly boring after this. How could it not? Threesomes with a Mountie and the man who'd borrowed his name. Who did he tell this story to, his grandkids? Stella? His pastor? God no. ] You just... You just put in another one when you're ready. I'm ready; I'm more than ready.
[ He was rolling his hips, urging, and Fraser obeyed, and he sobbed out a harsh moan, grinding his forehead against the wall, his eyes closed, his fingernails digging into Stanley's scalp. And then all hell broke loose. He had no idea what had triggered it, what Stanley was doing that had turned Fraser wrong all of a sudden, but those fingers became stabbing and uncoordinated, ringing a discord with the body grinding up against his own. He hissed, opening his eyes again, snarling down at Kowalski. ]
Fuck. Fucking. Hell. Stanley. [ It was really hard to sound angry. He wasn't really remotely angry anyway. But he was making space, bending himself away from the wall to form a gap between himself and plaster. He pulled on Kowalski's hair. ] Get up here--you're gonna want to be up here.
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He tilted his head into his partner's, his cheek brushing reassuringly against Fraser's, his voice low and velvet dark with arousal. ]
It's alright, Benny. One at a time. You can't do it wrong.
[ Those were apparently the right words, because Fraser let him go. In lieu of waiting to see whether or not the feeling was going to come back in his fingers, and in advance of Fraser losing his footing for whatever reason, Ray eased forward - it was easier without hands kneading at his genitals to force his legs to lock - bracing himself against the wall in front of him with one arm.
It gave him a view of the top of Stanley's head, nuzzled in against his groin, his own arousal appearing to stand erect from a nest of blonde spikes. He reached down, squeezed his hand roughly around the base of his own erection, his balls, chasing himself back from the edge, before letting his precome wet fingers wander and knot in Kowalski's mad nineties hair. Fraser's mouth grazed against his back - over a scar, maybe - and then there was the perfumed grease scent of the lubricant to assure him that the Mountie really wasn't going to run away. ]
That's it Benny. Just push--Oh. [ This was a treat, an unparalleled moment of perfection, because life was going to seem impossibly boring after this. How could it not? Threesomes with a Mountie and the man who'd borrowed his name. Who did he tell this story to, his grandkids? Stella? His pastor? God no. ] You just... You just put in another one when you're ready. I'm ready; I'm more than ready.
[ He was rolling his hips, urging, and Fraser obeyed, and he sobbed out a harsh moan, grinding his forehead against the wall, his eyes closed, his fingernails digging into Stanley's scalp. And then all hell broke loose. He had no idea what had triggered it, what Stanley was doing that had turned Fraser wrong all of a sudden, but those fingers became stabbing and uncoordinated, ringing a discord with the body grinding up against his own. He hissed, opening his eyes again, snarling down at Kowalski. ]
Fuck. Fucking. Hell. Stanley. [ It was really hard to sound angry. He wasn't really remotely angry anyway. But he was making space, bending himself away from the wall to form a gap between himself and plaster. He pulled on Kowalski's hair. ] Get up here--you're gonna want to be up here.