[ Falling into this kiss was like falling into the future. There were going to be more kisses like this--maybe not drunk ones, but more on top of more, and Fraser could embrace that. He hadn't ever really been the kind of man who thought that far ahead. He thought of cases, and occasionally of home, but only ever in a very abstract way, never in a way that took permanence and shape; a specter.
Now the future took the shape of Ray's body under his own. Of his mouth, his demanding tongue, the scrape of his teeth. It was quick and slow at once, deliberate and yet all over the place, and that was Ray through and through. Fraser sucked on his tongue, taking advantage of the moment in reflection of the way Ray had plundered his mouth as they left the elevator, and he shifted his legs and weight over, staying up in Ray's lap but now half straddling him, one knee up against his side, his other thigh between Ray's legs, his hip and Ray's hands keeping him in balance.
Oh they were dancing alright, but there were no steps, not with their feet off the ground. If angels danced, this would be how they did it. No hands and no feet, flying high on emotion and arousal. His hands rubbed up Ray's sides and crossed his chest, but there was no stopping to linger on his nipples--Fraser treated them like everything else, ran his hands across and moved on, curled into the wings of muscle of Ray's back instead.
The last time he'd tried to generate some friction between them, Ray had held him very still--vice like, even. This time he tried to be at least a little more subtle about it, languidly rocking his body against Ray's, panting sucking breaths into the kiss; slow and purposeful. It didn't demand anything more than a little bump and grind, and it was more instinct than anything else. Short of strapping Fraser down there wasn't going to be any keeping him absolutely still when it came to this. This was what all those muscles were really made for. Shifting, moving, working, rather than the constant stillness of a Mountie whose life was a parade.
A whole other side of him.
He bit Ray's bottom lip, withdrawing just for a moment, his eyelashes concealing the hunger in his eyes. ]
You can touch me too. If you want. [ It meant 'I'd like you to', but Fraser was careful to include 'If you feel like it's appropriate' in the general meaning. Just because Ray was down with the kissing didn't mean he'd necessarily want to touch, and that could be okay. This was still experimental, exploratory. ]
no subject
Now the future took the shape of Ray's body under his own. Of his mouth, his demanding tongue, the scrape of his teeth. It was quick and slow at once, deliberate and yet all over the place, and that was Ray through and through. Fraser sucked on his tongue, taking advantage of the moment in reflection of the way Ray had plundered his mouth as they left the elevator, and he shifted his legs and weight over, staying up in Ray's lap but now half straddling him, one knee up against his side, his other thigh between Ray's legs, his hip and Ray's hands keeping him in balance.
Oh they were dancing alright, but there were no steps, not with their feet off the ground. If angels danced, this would be how they did it. No hands and no feet, flying high on emotion and arousal. His hands rubbed up Ray's sides and crossed his chest, but there was no stopping to linger on his nipples--Fraser treated them like everything else, ran his hands across and moved on, curled into the wings of muscle of Ray's back instead.
The last time he'd tried to generate some friction between them, Ray had held him very still--vice like, even. This time he tried to be at least a little more subtle about it, languidly rocking his body against Ray's, panting sucking breaths into the kiss; slow and purposeful. It didn't demand anything more than a little bump and grind, and it was more instinct than anything else. Short of strapping Fraser down there wasn't going to be any keeping him absolutely still when it came to this. This was what all those muscles were really made for. Shifting, moving, working, rather than the constant stillness of a Mountie whose life was a parade.
A whole other side of him.
He bit Ray's bottom lip, withdrawing just for a moment, his eyelashes concealing the hunger in his eyes. ]
You can touch me too. If you want. [ It meant 'I'd like you to', but Fraser was careful to include 'If you feel like it's appropriate' in the general meaning. Just because Ray was down with the kissing didn't mean he'd necessarily want to touch, and that could be okay. This was still experimental, exploratory. ]