thelockbox | Benton Fraser

[ Fraser looked just like a kicked puppy. Ray only managed to meet his eyes for half a second before he couldn't stand it, looking away and keeping his eyes off the Mountie's. Looking anywhere else, that was the ticket, especially when he was busy pushing Fraser's clothes off his shoulders, baring his naked - incredibly beautiful - chest. Couldn't look at that, either, which was going to be a problem. ]

Yeah, that's me. Straight as a fucking arrow. And I bet that's true of both of you as well. That's why this is going to hurt. It's gonna test your partnership, but pretty much if you don't play nice with me, then this is gonna be in all your coworkers inboxes first thing. And maybe the Queen of England.

[ He clapped one of the cuffs around Fraser's left wrist, then put his hand on the back of his neck, guiding him to the side of the bed. ]

Lie down on your back. This only works if you're face up. Camera's gotta catch your good side.

[ Fraser looked uncertain, and Ray nodded to Michael. ] I'm going to count to five. If you don't do what I ask, Mikey here is gonna rearrange your buddy's internal organs. One. [ Fraser moved, lay on the bed and cooperated as Ray wound the cuffs through the headboard and clipped them into place. ]

Do you have those cameras set up, yet? Vecchio, you're on. [ He stepped away from the bed. ]

[It was unusual for Fraser to back out of an escape, even if it did involve some danger, but no means no and Ray wasn't going to risk breaking free on his own, not when there was the risk of his partner getting hurt in the crossfire. Fraser must have his reasons, and Ray had to respect and trust that enough that he'd wait it out. There'll be more opportunities, he's sure of it. Maybe it was just the timing that Benton didn't approve of.

Trouble is the window to get away was getting smaller and smaller as handcuffs started to get involved and, despite how strangely distracting that bare torso is, Ray was concerning himself with the fact that a cuffed Fraser isn't necessarily a useful one when it came to overpowering mobsters.

But he watched, staring over his shoulder with a clueless sort of interest. How could he not when there's his topless partner climbing onto the bed?]

Uh?

[Wait. Vecchio? That's him. Is he expected to do something here?]

Me?

[ The timing and odds weren't great. There were four thugs and Ray, four of them armed, and Ray carrying a concealed weapon. Fraser was unarmed, and the detective had been disarmed when he'd been patted down. Sure, by fluke they'd probably pull it off, but Fraser wouldn't be prepared to take that risk today.

Ray circled the bed, coming around to face his replacement. Fraser was watching them closely, his chest barely rising and falling as he avoided breathing too hard. He looked completely helpless, confused, but at the same time defiant, like it was almost his choice to be there.

Ray clicked his fingers in Kowalski's face. ]

Hey, eyes on me. [ He cocked his head to one side. ] You're gonna climb over there and do horrible, filthy things to him. If you don't [ He pressed. ] I'm gonna let each of my guys have a turn instead. They don't want to, but you know--for a good cause. He's not so bad looking, your Mountie friend. Hell, I might even be able to get it up.

[ He laughed. A really nasty laugh. ]

Go on. Give us a show. I can even walk you through it if you don't know how.

[That snap of fingers brings him back to some sort of reality, his head head jerking forwards again to look at the other through narrowed eyes, even while his brows remain creased downwards in confusion. This isn't reality at all, this is some bizarre dream, maybe nightmare. Fraser's topless on a bed, but there's mob guys here and since when did Ray eve want Fraser topless on a bed anyway?]

I don't... uh. What am I 'sposed to do?

[This escalated quickly. Threats of violence and death he could handle, but this? This didn't register with him at all. It's like he understood every word and yet couldn't quite piece them together in a sentence that made sense to him.

Everything points towards the same thing. The cuffs, the bed, the topless mountie, the threads of 'having a turn' and getting it up. But surely that's not what's actually going on here. Maybe Stan just has a really screwed up, inappropriate mind.]

I mean uh. We're both camera shy, you gotta switch off that first. And uh, get your boys outta the room.

[ Fraser was much more with it now. He could see it, where all of this was leading, and Ray--Ray was seriously doing this thing, setting them up to... He couldn't be serious, could he? And yet that laugh cut right into the heart of him, like a knife cutting through everything that had once held them together.

This wasn't the Ray he remembered. This was a...a mobster with only one thing on his mind. No wonder he couldn't meet Fraser's eyes. He wasn't the same person, and right now he definitely wasn't the man who'd become his first real friend. Detective Armani.

He suddenly realised what this was: he was exposed in a room full of strangers, and Ray Kowalski was his only friend, the only person who could protect him from the wolves. ]

Ray, please. [ Called softly. ] They'll-- [ His voice caught, misery swelling in his chest. ] They'll hurt you if you don't.

[ God, if Fraser kept that sort of thing up he was going to break his heart. He just couldn't stand to look at him, but he could convert misery into anger easily enough, use it to fuel the act--he just had to rely on that to get him through this. He'd been doing it for a year now.

But it felt like something was breaking, and he could hardly stand it. He looked so miserable, lying there, so he looked at Ray instead, narrowing his eyes. ]

Or him. But you're right, we got way too many audience members. They're just gonna get in the way. [ He nodded. ] Set the cameras up and get out. Mikey, in the corner. You, pull that seat up round the corner, by the door. Anyone hears a shot, you get back in here.

[ The thugs dispersed, leaving just Ray and Michael in the room proper. ]

Everyone happy now?

[Oh, so now Fraser wants to play it safe. It's good to know that all it takes is handcuffs, skeevy mobsters and guns to finally shut him up and realise the danger. Now isn't exactly the time to joke about that sort of thing though, not when Ray realises just as much as Fraser that they need to play this extremely safe. Maybe trying to fight back isn't the best of choices, but it's still at the back of Ray's mind throughout.

His vague attempt at compromise is met though, and several exit to leave them with two audience members. Still two too many, but it's better than before. It's also less to take on, but how Ray's expected to take down two of them is beyond him. Maybe if he can get Fraser free somehow...]

Yeah, real fuckin' happy.

[Laced with sarcasm and grump as he pushes himself to his feet, his movements quick but showing no aggression. Maybe if he can get them used to a lot of quick moves, then they'll be less likely to expect an attack. It's worked before. Sort of.

Once on his feet he moves around to the bedside, standing near to Fraser's head and yet still keeping his attention on that Armando guy.]

So you uh, you want me to spoon him or somethin'?

[ Ray watched his replacement juggle with his doubts and concerns for a second. He felt the same flash about Fraser: oh, now you realise that things aren't going too great, huh? But this wasn't the right moment to call him on it. Now there were just two guys watching them, Kowalski would be judging his company constantly, looking for an opportunity he could take advantage of. And he'd be trying to think of ways to get Fraser out of the cuffs, too.

He stayed on the other side of the bed, watching Ray retreat away from him. Distance himself a little, make himself feel a little safer--nice try, anyway. It was better than nothing, right? Now it'd feel more like him and Fraser against the world. But the fact was, if a shootout started now, it was probably Fraser who'd get the bullet in the chest. Both of them wanted to avoid that.

Ray licked his lips, then took a step back, moving into the chair beside the bed, nicely out of view of the video. ]

You're the star of this show. There's two ways out of this room, Detective--I get some sorta film I can use, or I shoot you both in the head and throw your naked bodies into the lake. You pull a lot of dead bodies outta that lake, I bet. You know how they look after they've been down there a while. Not as good as being buried in the desert and getting your eyes eaten out by vultures, but you gotta work with what you've got.

[ He bit his lip briefly, and dared a look at Fraser. ]

He's a Mountie, right? So ride him.

Oh Gad.

[Quiet, muttered as his gaze flickers distantly to one side for a brief moment. It's not even concern for himself so much as an immediate aversion to the mental image of bloated corpses that they dredge up from Lake Michigan. Hardly a reminder that's going to get him excited for what's ahead, but it's out there now and he's just going to have to shove back gross dead body mental images before he barfs and instead focus on the task ahead.

The task which appears to involve Fraser and... riding him? That's a new one for him. Sure him and Stella did plenty of things, but it was always her on him thank you very much.]

Sorry, buddy.

[Finally he addresses Fraser, blinking down at the cuffed and topless Mountie thoughtfully as if the whole prospect was all too daunting. Which it was, because who the fuck does this sort of thing with their working partner?

Ray takes it all very literally though, content enough to scramble onto the bed on his knees and throw a leg over Benton to straddle his waist. And there he sat, fully clothed, boots and all, lifting his eyebrows as he jerks his gaze back to the mobster off camera. It's so often difficult to tell if Ray's stupidity is genuine or not.]

All good? We done?

Edited 2015-01-22 16:55 (UTC)

[ Fraser was accepting of the whole thing--unnervingly so. He was quiet, and didn't react very much, but Ray did catch something in his expression, a sharp little intake of breath as his partner settled across him, the fluttering of his eyelashes. The moment his replacement was up on top of him, Fraser didn't avert his eyes from Kowalski's, like he was determined not to let anyone else in the room in on their moment.

At least Fraser was playing his part, though. Fraser knew what was happening now, and at least for the moment he didn't see any other way out. But he was smart, he could still make trouble. Right now the only trouble Ray had to worry about was the Detective. He was being intolerable. He deserved to get smacked in the face, honestly.

Patience worked better, though. He sneered at Kowalski and leant slightly forward. ]

I said I need something I can use. Take off the jacket. The shirt too. And move your hips. The camera wants to see some action, and so do I. And if I don't see some action...

[ He kneaded his thumb into his eyebrow, shrugged and then leant back, sighing softly. ]

It's up to you. Make me believe it, or don't. We can always do this the hard way.

Nngh, whatever man.

[The stupid can only be upheld for so long before everyone grows tired of it. It's a good delaying tactic but remaining clueless won't get them out of this.

But Ray hates doing as he's told, especially when it's coming from scumbag criminals, and right now he's thinking of every single way he can make this as awkward for the Italians as possible. Rock the boat without ever actually tipping it, just how he liked to live his life. But even with his reluctance, he still shifts enough to wrestle the jacket from his shoulders, and then proceed to peel off the several other layers that had kept him warm out in that bitter Chicago weather. The under shirt only lingers long enough for him to huff out a sigh, and then it's tugged over his chest and dumped aside with the rest of the discarded clothing, leaving a lithe torso and pale skin.

So now they're both topless and maybe that'll be enough to keep the viewers satisfied, but there was still the believability of it to consider.

There's not one smart ass thing he can think to say that'll make this better for him and Fraser, so instead he returns his partner's stare and offers one single nod before slowly rolling his hips. There's not much to it, both hands still resting idly at his own thighs, but he sure can work those hips of his, possibly thanks to plenty of years dancing. He needs to avoid thinking about this. Just got to channel his hate throughout, otherwise this could get really awkward really fast.]

[ Fraser had seen Ray out of his clothes enough that he didn't necessarily have to react to it, but that had been in...other situations. Changing rooms, and quick changes in the car from one shirt into another, they didn't come close to being as intimate as this. Ray wasn't just undressing, he was stripping in a rushed kind of way, sighing and acting frustrated, but stripping out of his clothes with enough of his rough frenzy that it made his stomach fold over, turning the coals and nurturing a low, hot flame.

That last layer, as it was peeled off, and Ray was exposed--this was a different kind of intimacy, and Fraser didn't know how to respond to it exactly. The definition of muscles, the dark red of his nipples, the paleness of his skin. Fraser's fingers twitched in their restraint, as though he desperately wanted to touch. He did, but not necessarily here. Not like this.

And then Ray moved, and his problems crystalised.

Okay--okay, he hadn't expected this. He hadn't prepared for it. Ray rolled his hips with an athletic agility, and Fraser made a broken sound, managing to bite down on it only for a second. The second roll made him moan, and the noise was helpless, and too loud in the small room.

Nobody would ever want to be undermined like this, least of all Ray, but Fraser knew it would. He couldn't hide that it was doing something for him, and Ray would question why. But the truth was... God, people just didn't touch him like this very often, and worse than that, Ray was special. He did attract him, not that Fraser would ever let it imperil their relationship. ]

I'm sorry. [ He said breathlessly, after a second. ] Ah--I'm sorry, Ray.

[Fraser wasn't the only sexually frustrated one here, but Ray did at least have some level of experience on this whole grinding thing when it came to him and ladies. Sure he'd only ever had one true partner, and the small flings he'd had since then had been extremely uneventful and mostly just constant blows to his confidence. But those interactions did mean he could cope with getting topless in close contact without getting hot under the collar the second there was movement.

He should have expected this from Benton, really. It's not exactly a surprise that the Mountie is so repressed that that slightest movement has him gasping, but this is hardly the time and place for him to discover his sexuality.]

Fraser! [Hissed quietly in warning, as if somehow that'll help the situation.

He's not sure exactly what annoys him about the whole situation, not yet anyway, but having Fraser moan with each roll of his hips really does throw him off his game. It's agitating enough that Ray decides to take action, moving a hand to press it tightly against Fraser's lips, hips halting as he stares down at his partner.]

Don't.

[ Fraser wasn't terribly pleased with himself either, it had to be said. The last thing he wanted was to be exposed like this on camera, and while under other circumstances it might have taken the edge off that the only other person watching was his best friend, Ray's transformation had left his trust in pieces. Fraser didn't know what to do with himself, but he did know that he was trying to bite down on those noises, his pride stung.

This was too personal, and he didn't want his relationship with Ray to be exposed to risk or scrutiny. It couldn't take Ray seeing him intimately, clearly, if Ray's reaction to his moaning was anything to go by.

He tried to bite his lip, but was saved by the hand closing over his mouth. Except now he couldn't speak either. His eyes opened just a little wider, and he tried to show his discomfort by fidgeting underneath Ray. He knows Ray knows that it isn't his fault, but still he feels like he should say something. Try to.

Not about how he finds Ray attractive, but just... Something. ]

[ Now what the hell was happening?

Stanley was good, Ray had to give him that. He didn't look so bad out of his shirt, real ladies man probably - dead stupid hair, but whatever - and he did really look the part, climbing up on top of Fraser the way he did.

Except apparently Fraser thought so too. The moment his replacement began to move, Fraser lost it. He moaned, and apologized, and Kowalski panicked and shoved a hand over Fraser's mouth, as though that would take back what he'd done.

But as if he wasn't already jealous enough, Ray felt a sickly swell of new jealousy rising in his belly. His Mountie. He wasn't supposed to trip over his feet falling for the new guy. It wasn't fair.

He growled, and intervened, if only to feel more involved. ]

You wanna gag him? I don't know about you, but I wanna hear that. You're turning him on, that's sorta the point.

[There's a moment where Ray realises he doesn't know what his next move is, and he's left staring down at Fraser and reading into those widened eyes without being able to think of a follow up. Shutting up Fraser had been the easy part (for once in his life), but everything after that was impossible to figure. They were still in the same spot they were before. Still had the camera. Still had some skeevy mob guy insisting they work it for the camera so he can get his rocks off to it at a later date or whatever. Nothing had changed. Whether Fraser kept quiet or not made no difference to the over all outcome.

So why keep him quiet?

The words off camera have him snapping his attention back over to the Italian, blinking rapidly as he tries to process the thought. Gagging. Nah. Fraser's already tied down and at the whim of others, it wasn't fair to leave him completely powerless in this. Especially not when the Mountie's voice was one of his biggest weapons he had in his arsenal.]

I uh. Yeah. I guess it is.

[But the concept of turning Fraser on was still an odd sentence to hear in this room, even if Ray was witnessing some of that first hand.

With a huff of defeat his hand lifts, instead pressing his palm to Benton's chest and resting it there, gaze back on his partner.]

Not your fault. [He mumbles like he's trying to keep some of this conversation private, even with the company.]

[ Fraser took a deep breath the moment he was free to, his eyelids relaxing too, his chest and the tension in his arms. He knew he'd only make Ray more nervous if he was tense and rigid in his own right, transferring that energy through his body the way that a nervous horse made for a nervous rider, and vice versa.

Ray was already having a difficult time with this. Fraser could help, but he had to focus him into the moment, maybe even hypnotise him a little bit. They could get through this, the humiliation, if that was the only way out.

He still had an ace up his sleeve. If this went too far... ]

I'm not afraid. Look at me, Ray. Don't think about the rest of the room. [ A slow breath, in and out, encouraging Ray subconsciously to mimic the action. ] There's just you and me, and you...you make me happy. You make me feel safe.

[ He licked his lips nervously, rolling his shoulders where they were uncomfortably knotting underneath him. ]

I want to touch you. Will you--will you hold my hand, please, Ray?

[Fraser's taking this well. Ray supposes he shouldn't be surprised considering this is the man who doesn't even flinch at live firearms pointed in his face, but it still comes as somewhat interesting to realise the handcuffed, half naked Mountie beneath him is the one trying to offer words of support here.

So maybe Ray is a little twitchy, and maybe he's a little unsure of himself, but Ray gets nervous, they both know that. And anxiety is a really shitty thing to have right now when he's supposed to be performing for an audience.

That's why the advice is good. It helps him focus. Keeps his attention on Fraser and lets him lock in on the familiar voice. Just the two of them. He could deal with that. They'd been through times like this before, where relying on one another was the only way through, this was no different, not really. Fraser trusted Ray, and Ray could definitely trust Fraser because that's what buddies do.]

I make you happy?

[Hard to know how to read a phrase like that, but Ray follows the instructions well enough, nodding lightly as he leans forward, closing the gap between them to curl a hand into Benton's restrained grip. He still keeps his other palm pressed against the Mountie's chest, using it as leverage to keep him just slightly above the other.]

[ And very quickly they're alone. There's just Ray above him, the steadiness of his breathing, those sharp blue eyes that seemed to bleed emotion straight through them. Fraser could see all of his anxiety there, but he could see when Ray was reflecting and listening. It was magic, a little bit like hypnosis, but the control it gave them over the situation was more than just useful. Of course Ray could make him feel safe, with just a look like that.

Fraser closed his hand around Ray's, when it was pressed into place, reassured by the grip entirely. It was the first truly willing thing he'd done since this had begun, and now he had that anchor point the connection was complete. Neither of them would forget entirely about the "mobster" looming beside them, but this close - inches apart, Ray's hands on him, Ray's eyes on him - they were at least making progress.

He spoke to both the men in the room, through him. ]

Yes, you make me happy. You're my partner, Ray, and I trust you--I've trusted you. I'd like to think that nothing could ever come between us, and that no matter what you do, or who you are, our friendship would always come first. That means a lot to me. I mean...I have faith in people doing the right thing, but sometimes that isn't always possible. And trust may seem like a word I fling around haphazardly, but I have every reason to be mistrustful, considering the things I've seen--there is always doubt where it's due. But... [ He needs to breathe. It's a lot of talking. He shook his head, changing his mind after all. ]

Never mind. I'm not being particularly eloquent. [ He squeezed Ray's hand. ] It's like dancing. You...you should probably move, Ray. Dance with me. I promise it'll be okay.

[With an unconscious (at least on Ray's behalf) syncing of breath, touch and soothing assurance, Ray thinks he might just get through this. Once Fraser starts talking, he barely even remembers they've got company, focused as he is on sight and sound and touch, and even though there's a lot of words to process, he thinks he might just understand what Fraser's getting at. They do so often have an understanding, he and Benton.

Ray brows crease in thought, taking it all in as he tries to multi-task with this 'dancing' concept. It's kind of like dancing, sure. A horizontal sort of dancing. And that sounds more than a little bizarre but hell, they don't have much choice. This will be the ultimate test in buddies, he considers, even as he rolls his hips down into Fraser once more, a steady, driving force.]

Nah. Nah, I get it. [He decides out loud, lowering his face to the side of Fraser to rest at his shoulder, relieving the strain of trying to keep himself up in such an awkward position.]

Like uh. No matter what, we're still buddies, right? Whatever weird shit comes between us. That's partners. That's buddies.

[Because Ray will always be that loyal dog.]

[ He exhaled a little hard, relieved that Ray had heard him, that he was listening so intently. He hoped he'd managed to get through to his former partner too, but for now they simply had to make it through. Words were a kind of hypnosis, though. They'd transformed Ray's attentiveness, let him focus and find his center, and Fraser thought not for the first time that he and Ray made a wonderful team; they understood each other on a very intimate level, unspoken and defiant.

He hissed, exhaling slowly as Ray rocked back against him again. His own growing arousal wasn't something that there would be any escape from, but Ray protected him instinctively, curled across him with his face against his bare shoulder, warm and safe.

His breath staggered as he exhaled. ]

No matter what [ he insisted. ] We can survive anything.

[ He squeezed Ray's fingers, and tried to steady his ragged breathing, flushed already when he turned his head to face the real Ray Vecchio, a muscle in his neck jumping as he swallowed. ]

You don't have to do this. The truth would set us free. [ Another swallow. ] Ray. Please.

[ Ray didn't just hear Fraser's words, his misery, but he could also see the way that his partner - his replacement, he thought spitefully - reacted to those words, the way he fell into a rhythm with Fraser with complete ease, the way he understood almost innately the meaning and purpose. Kowalski trusted Fraser in a way that Ray had needed far longer to learn, and which had in fact had more than a wobble or two over the years.

He narrowed his eyes, feeling the guilt as Fraser inflicted it wash over him. While they were comforting words for his partner, they cut like a knife with the former. They begged and pleaded and asked him why and please, and Ray took a sharp breath and tried to crunch his face up into something more impenetrable.

And then Fraser's new partner started to move, and Fraser flushed and bit down on his own reactions, instead turning to look him right in the eye. We can survive anything. That wasn't his any more, was it? That was just for this guy--that fucking interloper.

But God, his eyes. The truth. The truth? The truth would get them all killed. Why didn't Fraser get that?

He straightened up, looked into the corner at Mike, then back to Fraser. ]

The truth is a little frotting's not gonna make anyone think you two are fucking. You better show me some loving, else I'm gonna get bored.

[Performance anxiety might leave Ray's excitement a little uneventful, but he can certainly feel Fraser's arousal against him, even through two layers of denim. He cant blame the Mountie for it, not when he's the one rolling his hips so effectively, but this was all a true test of friendship. A true buddy is one that can trigger an arousal and still look the other in the eye the next day. Hopefully.

For now Ray doesn't have to keep eye contact, not with his head lowered and his breath huffing out warmly against Fraser's skin. This can just be their moment without all the awkwardness attached to it. Just two guys getting a bit of entertainment from the company of one another's bodies. Nothing to do with the other people in the room urging them on.

Fraser's urging something about truth and Stan, who might have not entirely been listening for a second there, merely grunts out a quiet;] I know.

[It's the Italian that gets his attention back once more, causing eyes to roll as Ray's hand slips free of Fraser's allowing himself to sit slightly more upright once again.]

You want believable? Go get some cheap $20 an hour hooker and throw in a bed with me. People might fuckin' fall for that but they ain't ever gonna believe this guy let it outta his pants. He's like a fuckin' nun, okay? No one is gonna fall for it.

[ Fraser was very careful to control his breathing, but only because that was all he had any control over. His arousal, and the racing of his heart, the way his emotions struggled to deal with the closeness of his partner--they were all uneasy things outside of his control, and no matter how good Ray was at this, it was going to change things.

God, it was going to change everything.

He shivered as Ray pulled back, looking only the more uncomfortable by the second, and he groaned, only letting Ray's hand go under duress, biting his own trembling lip. Sweat was beading on his forehead from concentration, and from the flush that had crawled up his neck. Not good not good. ]

Unnn--huh, Ray, please. I don't want him to hurt you. Just do whatever he asks. I-- [ He twisted slightly, his unhappiness evident. ] You're my partner. I'll do anything to protect you. So long as we make it out of this alive, nothing else matters. Okay?

[ Ray stood. Fraser was making this job so very difficult for him, but that was sort of the damn point, wasn't it? Make it uncomfortable for Ray and maybe he'd quit it and let them go, not make them go through with this. But that wasn't the way it was going to be. He was Armando Langoustini, he made his decisions and his rules and that was the end of it. His word was law, and his strength was in it too. The respect of the men around him came from knowing that he would never back down, and that he could kill in a heartbeat.

Ray came around the bed abruptly, circling like a cat to come into the view of the camera. He moved his right hand to Kowalski's shoulder, ran it just a little higher to his neck, and then leaned in, pressing into his space. ]

You wanna know what could ruin your life more than a little buggery between friends? Getting ass-fucked by the mob. Forget being dismissed, forget docked to half-pay. There wouldn't be anyone left who could stand to look you in the eye.

[ His breath fell against Ray's lips, as close as he was. But there were guns trained on him, like the weapon in his left hand, nudging against Ray's ribs. ]

But hey. Your choice, right? Who cares what he wants.

Edited 2015-01-31 19:43 (UTC)

Benton Fraser | Due South

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