[ There's a purity to the physicality that Fraser remembers from Victoria, a moment where emotion and action and sensation all coalesce into a persistent sound like a bell being rung, enduring, ringing vibration through the entirety of his body until he felt he simply became the vibration.
But even vibrations could be uncoordinated. Even vibrations could gasp and whimper as Ray's teeth gnashed against his lip, his partner's frustration self evident - and who could blame him? Ray was pinned between a rock and a hard place, and Fraser couldn't reach him no matter how hard he might try, no matter how rough his thrusts quickly became, trying to find even the slightest purchase so that he might close that distance permanently. Vecchio's body felt incredible around him, but also as though there were constantly some place just a little deeper, just a little further out of reach, and if he could make it just a little deeper the true meaning of 'heaven on earth' might unfold around him.
He wants more of this. He wants to do it again, and he wants Stanley, and he wants them to do it to him - possibly at the same time - and if life was very good to him they could just carry on doing it forever, and somehow make up for the fact that Ray hadn't introduced him to the practice years ago, long before he'd ever even met Stanley Kowalski. It felt somehow ridiculous that it took these two men coming together in a moment of madness for them to realise that yes, they could have been having lots of sex in public places (but preferably private ones) for as long as they'd known each other, and it wasn't really Fraser's fault they hadn't. They ought to have known better, he couldn't be expected to know anything about this sort of thing.
But now that he did... Well, there was a saying that was not a motto but was in fact still remarkably true even today, at least so far as the Fraser family was concerned: a Mountie would always get his man.
There would be half moons impressed on his cheek when he left this room, little marks left behind by Stanley's blunt fingers, his lips swollen, and it would all none the less tell a story that none of them would be able to admit to out loud, and yet it would all be true - unbelievably, wonderfully true - and Fraser knew he'd be counting down the moments until they could do it again, until all three of them found themselves in the same place at the same time, perhaps under some ruse of a pizza night or a stakeout. He could see it now, his Rays in the front seat, Vecchio half leaning across the gap to kiss Kowalski into the driver side window, his hand thrust into his partner's jeans. Fraser could just watch. He thought he might like to watch as much as he appreciated being an active participant. Maybe he'd participate too, but later, when Stanley was dozing and Ray's mind was wandering, he'd lean across and drop the passenger side seat and smother Ray in ninety-degree kisses until they were both breathless, and maybe his partner would lean across - wordless, of course, functioning on the higher skills of communication that they'd been working on for the last two years - tug open Ray's fly and...
Yes, he thought. There was plenty more that they could explore. But he really was rather preoccupied right now. He broke the kiss again, his excess lung capacity all worn out, his groans ragged and overloud considering where they were against Ray's mouth, though they were connected now only by the forehead, Fraser leaning what weight he could into the point of contact. He could barely think, hardly breathe. The world was light and a blur that was Ray Kowalski, sweat and sex and heat and a body against his chest that was Ray Vecchio, muscle clinging to his cock. He wasn't cut out for so much pleasure; he wasn't going to survive much more of this. And Ray was...Ray, underneath him was... ]
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But even vibrations could be uncoordinated. Even vibrations could gasp and whimper as Ray's teeth gnashed against his lip, his partner's frustration self evident - and who could blame him? Ray was pinned between a rock and a hard place, and Fraser couldn't reach him no matter how hard he might try, no matter how rough his thrusts quickly became, trying to find even the slightest purchase so that he might close that distance permanently. Vecchio's body felt incredible around him, but also as though there were constantly some place just a little deeper, just a little further out of reach, and if he could make it just a little deeper the true meaning of 'heaven on earth' might unfold around him.
He wants more of this. He wants to do it again, and he wants Stanley, and he wants them to do it to him - possibly at the same time - and if life was very good to him they could just carry on doing it forever, and somehow make up for the fact that Ray hadn't introduced him to the practice years ago, long before he'd ever even met Stanley Kowalski. It felt somehow ridiculous that it took these two men coming together in a moment of madness for them to realise that yes, they could have been having lots of sex in public places (but preferably private ones) for as long as they'd known each other, and it wasn't really Fraser's fault they hadn't. They ought to have known better, he couldn't be expected to know anything about this sort of thing.
But now that he did... Well, there was a saying that was not a motto but was in fact still remarkably true even today, at least so far as the Fraser family was concerned: a Mountie would always get his man.
There would be half moons impressed on his cheek when he left this room, little marks left behind by Stanley's blunt fingers, his lips swollen, and it would all none the less tell a story that none of them would be able to admit to out loud, and yet it would all be true - unbelievably, wonderfully true - and Fraser knew he'd be counting down the moments until they could do it again, until all three of them found themselves in the same place at the same time, perhaps under some ruse of a pizza night or a stakeout. He could see it now, his Rays in the front seat, Vecchio half leaning across the gap to kiss Kowalski into the driver side window, his hand thrust into his partner's jeans. Fraser could just watch. He thought he might like to watch as much as he appreciated being an active participant. Maybe he'd participate too, but later, when Stanley was dozing and Ray's mind was wandering, he'd lean across and drop the passenger side seat and smother Ray in ninety-degree kisses until they were both breathless, and maybe his partner would lean across - wordless, of course, functioning on the higher skills of communication that they'd been working on for the last two years - tug open Ray's fly and...
Yes, he thought. There was plenty more that they could explore. But he really was rather preoccupied right now. He broke the kiss again, his excess lung capacity all worn out, his groans ragged and overloud considering where they were against Ray's mouth, though they were connected now only by the forehead, Fraser leaning what weight he could into the point of contact. He could barely think, hardly breathe. The world was light and a blur that was Ray Kowalski, sweat and sex and heat and a body against his chest that was Ray Vecchio, muscle clinging to his cock. He wasn't cut out for so much pleasure; he wasn't going to survive much more of this. And Ray was...Ray, underneath him was... ]