Benton Fraser | Due South

[dogsled]

BENTON FRASER。

"You know, Fraser, when they offered me this assignment, they made it sound kind of normal. They say, 'Hey, Ray, here's a chance to start over, ditch the past.' 'What's the catch?' I say. 'Oh, your partner's Canadian.' Canadian? I got nothing against Canadians, except for the time when they won the World Series, which I'm willing to overlook. But at no time did they say, 'you'll be working with a Mountie who's got a wolf that's a florist'"

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[kickem]

[They're a mess of limbs, sweat and come and Stanley is totally fine with every bit of that. He doesn't even mind the weight of the others against him, leaning into Vecchio and watching Fraser with a tired affection as the Mountie nuzzled in against Ray's neck. It's not a bad view from where he is, getting a clear shot of Benton and a mostly uninterrupted view of Vecchio, both in post-orgasmic haze of content smiles and half-lidded gazes. God, it was hot. If he wasn't already spent, he'd almost consider going at it all over again.]

Not the sorta thing you should be sayin' to people after you fuck 'em, Fraser.

[Murmured with amusement, leaning just that little closer to meet the Mounties lips in a lasting but lazy kiss that's barely able to stay at head height as his head droops and his eyes flutter. He could fall asleep quite happily where he fell, come to think of it, and Vecchio's suggestion isn't sounding so bad at all.]

Mmm, lick clean.

[He agrees, words slurred with tiredness as he settles himself against Vecchio, eyes slowly closing at the mere mention of getting to rest. No one would mind them sleeping here for the next few hours, right? Door's locked. Not like anyone... could... get in...

And he's out.]