thelockbox | Benton Fraser

Benton Fraser | Due South

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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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)

[Ignoring Fraser wasn't entirely hard, not when Ray had been teaching himself how to do so for a good year now, but it's still difficult to completely block out the trembling but excited body beneath him. Part of Fraser wanted this. There was something deep down stirring up that arousal and those quiet moans, something more than just not being used to personal touches.

Ray might have even pondered on it further were it not for the fact that the head guy was getting out of his seat for this occasion. So maybe answering back wasn't the way to play this, but Stan always had to try. Pushing boundaries was what he did, even if it did mean the possibility of a punch to the face or a gun in his ribs.

The closeness does get him turning his gaze away though, submitting to the invasion of his space with averted eyes and a clenched jaw. No one would be able to look Ray in the eye, just like he couldn't look now. It'd be an embarrassment beyond just rutting with a partner, impersonal and haunting. Everyone would know and he'd never forget it.]

Yeah. Yeah, all right. We got this. [Muttered through gritted teeth as his averted gaze only briefly flickers back to Fraser.]

Just uh... we're new to this, yeah? Just take it easy.

[There's the slow movement of a hand, the one at Fraser's chest trailing fingers lower until it settles between the two of them, right at the button of the Mountie's jeans. But that's it, nothing more and no sudden movements until he knows that gun won't be accidentally setting off against his chest.]

[ Ray knew what it would be like. He remembered similar kinds of humiliation being meted out on his peers when he was back in school, tracking in the heels of thugs and trying to keep his own head down so it didn't happen to him. Now he was the one in command, and his replacement just melted under the contact, submitted desperately like he could avoid it if Ray chose to go that way.

Eyes were averted, a head was ducked away. Poor guy. This wasn't what he'd signed on for, but hey, Ray knew that if he was in the same position he'd make the same choice. Between him and Fraser - some mob guy and Fraser - there really was only one way to go, and it wasn't going to be easy but at least they were facing it together.

The other thing. Well the other thing could fuck him up. At least he and Fraser would stay strong together, support each other. A shared experience.

He watched Ray's hand drop, and only then Ray patted Kowalski's cheek condescendingly. ]

Good boy.

[ He dropped his own hand, letting it settle briefly on Fraser's hip - only for a second - before snatching it away again. It was probably the last contact with him he'd have, and it was a hell of a lot better than the punch to the mouth he'd given him a short while before. Removing his gun, he moved back, moved out of shot, letting the two of them have their freedom again. ]

Slowly. Gently now, Vecchio. You know you can do this.

[God, what he wouldn't do to punch that asshole right in the face. Bite that patronising hand that touched him. Anything that would give him some level of satisfaction that he gave as good as he was getting. But no. Even he knew what a dumb idea that would be, and for once Stan had enough self restraint to know that physical violence might not solve everything ever, especially not when his friend is at risk too.]

Yeah...

[Mumbled yet again, more to himself than anyone, his attention turning back to the Mountie beneath him and, more specifically, his hand settled at the button of those jeans. He wouldn't be able to grip reassuringly to Fraser's hand, not where he was right now, sat upright and having to sort out all this clothing removal thing (what little clothing was left). Ray would have his hands occupied, but Fraser... well...]

Uh. Hey, uh.

[His hand briefly lifts moving to the other wrist and fumbles with the beaded bracelet there. It wasn't one he removed often, so there was a few awkward seconds of wrestling with it, but then it's off and shoved in Fraser's grip with a firm nod from Ray like he's certain that will somehow solve every issue ever.

And then his fingers are drifting south again, popping open the button and dragging down the zip without a fuss and yet faltering at that point. They were partners. Nothing else mattered. That's what Fraser had said, right? So this? They could get past this. Ain't no big thang. Although maybe there is one kind of big thing that he has to contend with at he quietly peels down those jeans and, shortly after, the boxers beneath. He doesn't get far, but it's enough to reveal what's beneath, and Stan can't help but exhale out a shuddering breath that he's not even aware he'd been holding.]

Fuck...

[ It was awful to watch. Ray wasn't outwardly violent, no, but the words he used, and the presence he had as he pressed closer, looming and threatening with the gun in his partner's ribs, almost close enough to kiss him but meaning to do everything but. What Ray proposed doing to him was despicable--not that it was much better what he was proposing for Ray to do to Fraser.

Still, watching Ray submit the way he did was one of the hardest things that Fraser had ever seen. Watching him peel away from the hand on his cheek like a beaten dog cowering underneath the pressure. It was almost as hard to see as Ray Vecchio becoming a monster in front of his eyes, and while he'd once loved this man like a brother, the fact was that he wasn't that man any more, and Fraser was repulsed by his touch, flinching away from it.

He couldn't look at Ray, so he looked at Stanley instead, and found that bracelet pressed firmly into his hand--an anchor point, and frankly the one part of Ray that Fraser thought that he didn't let anyone touch. It made him feel closer than ever to the man above him, which was what he needed in this moment, his breath catching as Ray obeyed his former partner's - the mobster's - instructions.

Ray's hands seemed to be steadier than Fraser expected them to be, but that wasn't a surprise. Ray had steady hands on his own weapon, and...

Fraser's breath staggered as he was exposed, half hard despite the regret and humiliation. It was still Ray that was with him, touching him, undressing him; Ray that he squeezed between his fingers, feeding each of the beads through them. ]

I'll--take that as a compliment.

[Ray wasn't too good at following orders, never had been, but he could when the time called for it. Welsh was one of the few who could keep Ray in check, but that was out of sheer respect. This? This wasn't respect or really a general consent to doing as he's told. This was him biding his time and keeping him and his partner safe until the time is right. If there's any opportunity to get his own back, he will without hesitation. He's just a chained dog waiting to bite, and even with the clear show of submission against that sneering asshole, Stan's still bristling with an obvious agitation, like some constant attitude problem that he can't quite keep at bay.

Whatever. He needs to refocus on something that isn't anger, because otherwise he's just going to wind himself up and do something he'll regret.

Fraser provided the perfect focal point, laying beneath Stan with ragged breath and a slight flush like he might just be enjoying some side of this. His half hard dick gave a lot of that away too, and Ray really can't help but stare for a second.]

Heh. Show-er and a grower. No fuckin' surprise there.

[What with Fraser being Mr. Perfect and all. Of course he'd be just as appealing with his clothes off.]

So uh. Can I uh. I uh gotta touch, I guess.

[He concludes, his voice kept consistently quiet like somehow the other guys and the camera in the room won't hear him if he speaks a little softer. It's flawed logic, of course, but it makes him feel just a little more secure.

What doesn't make him feel secure is having to do crap like this, but his hand still drifts after the suggestion, fingers dusting up from the waistband to drift through dark curls and then, ever so briefly, the sensitive skin of his partner's cock. This was uncharted territory, but maybe if he could just consider this as his own, then muscle memory might just take over. It's an odd angle for his hands to quite recognise it as normal, but he still manages to persuade his fingers to return, coiling a light grip around the base and settling there like he's not quite sure where to go from there.]

We good...?

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Benton Fraser | Due South

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