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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[ Ray took his time to react, considering. Fraser, sitting in the dark, watched him come in, watched him flick on the light and for a moment just be Ray; Ray on his own with all his various public faces and personal ticks set aside. His guard was down, and it was like he was a different person. Not the Ray he was with the ladies at the station, not the Ray he was with Fraser, or with Stella. Just Ray.

And then it was gone again, replaced with cop Ray, then exhausted Fraser Ray. The Ray that was tired of dealing with him all day and was starting to wonder when he'd just fuck off back to Canada and leave him to get on with his job--his real job.

This Ray wasn't Ray Vecchio, none of them were.

He stayed sitting on the chair beside the bedroom door, but only for a moment, taking in Ray's glare entirely before coming up to his feet, stepping up to his partner and placing his hands on his shoulders. The action was firm and direct, with no room for questioning or stopping him. It happened, and then Fraser was in front of Ray, looking at him firmly. ]

You still might.

[ He pushed Ray's coat back off his shoulders, framed his hands down his arms, watching his partner ever so quietly. Authoritative. Direct. Masterful. He presented his actions as simply fact. ]

I'm here to negotiate with you.

[It wasn't unusual to see Fraser making weird ass life choices, Ray was used to that by now, but he hadn't expected the Mountie to choose to break into his home when given the cold shoulder earlier today. Benton was meant to be the polite one of them, the understanding Canadian who didn't push it when he was told his company wasn't wanted.

They knew each other well enough by now that Ray hadn't thought there'd be too many hard feelings, not after the days he'd had of ultimate Stella-ness. But maybe that was it. Maybe Fraser had just been too polite to bring up his annoyance at the sudden late nights and early mornings that this Stella case had brought about. Maybe the lack of lunches and dinners together and Ray's sudden distance weren't to the Mounties liking. Was this arrival going to be some talk of 'feelings' and 'partners' and shit that Ray really couldn't deal with tonight?]

Fraser...

[The approach is a little more bold than he'd thought for, but Ray's seen Fraser show confidence like this on a daily basis. The invasion of personal space isn't even a surprise. Those hands though, sliding forward to push the coat from his shoulders without hesitation, are a little odd. Perhaps it's a Canadian thing, some sort of olive branch and yet another freakish thing Ray has to adjust to.

Ray's own hesitancy is there, brimming just slightly beneath his annoyance and tiredness and mild curiosity.]

Negotiate? What kinda negotiation?

[ Bold and direct are what he's good at, really, when it comes down to it. He knows how to get the job done. If he makes it clear to Ray that he knows what he's doing, that he's confident, he'll open up more easily to Fraser's suggestions. Or at least that's the idea. ]

You're tired. You've had a rough day. And you've been up all night drinking--

[ He lifted Ray's coat away, folding it over his arm so that he could bring both hands back to Ray. One settled on his hip now, the other on his shoulder, guiding him away to the left toward the couch, urging him to sit down. ]

Now...

[ He crouched down in front of Ray, looking at him firmly, still holding that devoted attention, sharp blue eyes refining to laser clarity even in the low light of Ray's apartment. ]

This is a negotiation about our relationship. We seem to have squared away our partnership just fine. We work well together, I think. We understand each other a little better. But I need something more from you, Ray. Something the former Ray Vecchio was happy to do for me, but something I think you'll find more difficult. It will require trust, and submission.

Edited 2015-02-16 21:44 (UTC)

I'm fine. I'm great. I'm uh, I'm not drunk.

[Because that must be the confusion here. That must be why Fraser feels the need to support him and guide him quite as much as he's doing, like Ray's incapable of standing on his own or making his own decisions when it comes to when and where he needs to rest. Sure, he's had a few drinks. A few too many, perhaps, but this level of care seemed more appropriate for someone practically floored.

Yet he allows it. So assured is Fraser that Ray should be sat and resting that he just goes with it, brows lifting just slightly as he sinks into the comfort of his couch and witnesses his partner crouching in close right after him.

Stan may not be drunk, but he's still finding those few (okay, maybe more than a few) whiskeys are clouding his ability to make sense of the situation, of the words being spoken. He gets partners. He gets trust. He even gets favours. He's just not so sure where the word submission comes into this. It's an odd choice of wording...]

Sure. Sure, partners. We're all good... Look, Fraser, this can wait 'til tomorrow.

[ kneeling down in front of Ray the way he was, he was suddenly overwhelmed with a rush of longing. He put his hand on Ray's knees. He'd naturally sat relaxed, and Fraser took the space between his legs, ran his fingers and palms just a little higher. There was something really intimate in his closeness now, and absolutely no way to disguise the rough edge in his voice. ]

No, Ray. It can't wait any longer. In fact, I think you've kept me waiting more than long enough.

[ He licked his lips. Though he'd thought about his words in advance, now he was here none of them seemed really right, or appropriate. His eyes remained on Ray. It was going to be a lot of words, and Ray was only just keeping up as it was. So he had to be careful, and slow, and patient. Fortunately they were all skills he had in excess. ]

Ray and I had a relationship, one which helped us to function better as a unit. It was a very simple arrangement; he allowed me to give him pleasure, to satisfy his every need, in return for his absolute submission.

I want you to give me a chance. [ His hands moved a little higher, both together. ] Let me show you what it can be like when you surrender your self control entirely to someone else--how freeing it can be. Just a chance, Ray, that's all I'm asking for.

[Maybe Ray was drunker than he'd first thought. Or someone slipped something into one of his drinks. That'd explain why there's the odd sight and feel of Fraser at his legs, hands sliding up Ray's thighs and...]

Uuh.

[There's that braindead moment, a familiar blank look from Ray as though he's trying to process a particularly difficult word or solve algebra, or even try and process why the fuck his work partner is currently sliding his palms up his thighs and discussing pleasure.

So maybe this is about 'pleasure'. Ray wouldn't be at all surprised to find out Fraser's that way inclined, not with the way he acts around women. But that still doesn't quite explain why he's here, uninvited in Ray's home and getting dangerously close to touching him up.]

You and uh, you and Vecchio had a thing? Okay, that's cool. I'm not judgin'. But uh. I dunno if you remember I got Stella, right? So...

[Not so talented at the letting friends down gently thing, but he's trying his best. Not that Fraser isn't a good looking guy and pretty much perfect in every way, and not that his hands aren't pretty appealing right now after the rejection of no Stella tonight.]

That's the thing, Ray. You don't have Stella. She shut the door on you, once and for all, and I think you know that. I think you've known since we left the apartment that it was over.

[ His hands stopped moving further up, but now his thumbs worked in small circles where they lay on the cusp of being on Ray's sacred inner thigh. He'd been explicitly told not to touch there before, which was his way of acknowledging that he was crossing a line.

And honestly if Ray was bad at letting friends down gently, Fraser hadn't exactly done much better. At least he was offering an alternative. ]

I expected Ray to be waiting for me too. We could pick up our relationship where we left off. But you replaced him--inadequately, at least in this respect.

[ His hands stilled, and Fraser leant forward, pressing into Ray's space, looking up at him through his eyelashes. ]

After everything we've lost, we both deserve some happiness, Ray. It can stay within these walls. Outside, nothing changes. Nothing. But here...

[ Just his right hand ran higher, inquisitive; testing. ] Let me show you.

[Fraser had been right when, some time ago, he'd suggested Ray still might shoot him. The talk of Stella really isn't endearing Ray to him right now, especially not after being in her arms only hours ago, and the temptation of shooting the Mountie between his legs does suddenly sound appealing. Maybe a punch would be a little less extreme and involve less clean up.

Or maybe none of the above other than a slight narrowing of his eyes and a soft curl of his upper lip like he's keen to show his annoyance but can't quite distract himself from those thumbs. This wasn't blind groping to try and stop him slamming on the brake, this was deliberate touches with hands that appear surprisingly adept at it. Who'd have thought blushing virgin Fraser knew how to touch up like a pro. If Ray could just close his eyes and forget it was the Mountie for a second, he might even be able to get into it. Not that he had any issues with Fraser, except... it was Fraser. Handsome and ridiculously endearing or not, this was still his working partner. His male working partner.

Not to mention Ray's still getting mixed signals here. Even despite the soothing hands and his crouched partner closing into his personal space, he's hearing what he doesn't want to hear about Stella and words like inadequate being thrown out there. Context or not, Ray takes the defensive, quickly snatching for the wrist of that creeping right hand and grabbing tightly, locking his gaze on Fraser.]

Is this some kinda joke to you, Fraser? 'Hardeharhar, look at Ray, he can't even get laid with his own wife, he must be real fuckin' desperate'? C'mon, don't be an asshole. I oughta sock you.

[ His hand stilled at once when Ray grabbed it, holding fast; more force than Ray had ever shown with him, in fact. He was offended, angry, but still a little bit confused. Confusion was all Fraser really had going for him.

He let Ray hold his wrist. If he let it go, it could be seen as permission, but until then... ]

Are you absolutely convinced that I'm doing this out of pity, Ray? To humiliate you? You know me--at least I think you've come to know me. I think you know that my intent is pure. Well--well, I mean that it's well-meaning, not necessarily... [ He blushed and ducked his head. ] Not pure pure. I'm getting all muddled.

[ So much for knowing what he was going to say and getting it all out without confusing Ray more in the process. He chewed on his lip, keeping his eyes down for a moment later, watching Ray's hand where it was squeezed around his own. ]

Look, the fact of the matter is that... That I have both motive and opportunity. It is something of desperation, but I assure you, the desperation is entirely mine. [ He looked back up at Ray now, firm and determined, trying to convey something across to him of that desperation, of his own personal need and not just his making digs at his heartbroken partner. ] It's hard for me to ask you this, to expose myself to you as... Well as anything other than you see every day.

[The alcohol isn't helping Ray's thought process. It has a tendency to make him aggressive and is currently doing a good job of keeping his metaphorical hackles raised even as he considers Fraser's logical perspective on all of this.

If there's one person he should be able to trust, its Benton. The two of them had got to know each other well enough in the passing months and even now Ray could concede that this was a partnership closer than he'd ever got with any previous colleagues. This was undoubtedly a friendship; a duet to end all duets, where Fraser was undoubtedly the most trustworthy of any Stan had ever met. It wasn't at all like the Mountie to be hurtful or vindictive. Even his mocking was barely there and bred from affection rather than affliction.

It would be entirely uncharacteristic to have Benton here, crouched before Ray, mocking and humiliating over a failed relationship that was obviously still very fresh. Fraser just wasn't the sort to be jabbing vindictively at an open wound.

But if belittling wasn't the intent, then what was? Was he really here to try and make moves on Ray. Was it really as simple as him attempting to display some sort of oddly placed affection? The brief display of blushing suggests it might be that simple but...]

Fraser, I don't uh... I don't usually go in for all this...

[Less bristling now although the confusion remains, even uncertain of what 'this' really is. But he relaxes just slightly, grip loosening, allowing Fraser movement but not quite releasing from his wrist just yet.]

[ He held the other man's gaze quietly, trying to convey that it was okay, that Ray could trust him. Some of it seemed to be getting across to him, at least, because although Ray was still tense, he seemed to be putting some considerable thought into what Fraser was saying, and sure enough little by little that aggressive edge seemed to subside.

Ray's grip on his wrist finally released slightly, and Fraser exhaled slowly, letting his thumb circle again, but not jumping straight to forcing his hand. He could take his time now. I don't usually gave him room to manoeuvre. ]

It's okay, Ray. I'm not asking you to become something you're not, or change to suit me. [ He tipped his head, laying his cheek against Ray's knee, letting out a slow, relaxed exhale, and since his eyes had closed, opened them again. ]

I want to make you feel...transcendent. I want to worship at the altar of your pleasure, and if you trust me, put yourself in my hands absolutely, then I'll make certain that you don't regret it.

[ He turned his head slightly in, his mouth touching Ray's knee - albeit through his trousers - keeping his gaze as he did. It was make or break, really. ]

Please.

[He hadn't even thought about how open a simple word like 'usually' could be. It changed 'i don't go into this' to 'i might go for this' and Ray's left wondering why the fuck he worded it like that. Was he trying to put Fraser down lightly rather than an outright refusal? Or was he unconsciously opening himself up to the touches at his thighs and the careful approach of Fraser?

Shit, he was tired and too full of alcohol to be thinking too deeply on this. Maybe agreeing was the easier option here, the choice that prevented arguments and days of silence and avoidance. Not that allowing this wouldn't raise it's own possible problems.]

You... you're really into this?

[Perhaps Ray wanted this too. What if all those long nights and full days, all those lunches and dinners and increasing urges to stick around with Fraser for as long as possible were just his way of being more than just partners? Perhaps Ray had already started to make this more without even realising. Or perhaps he was full of alcohol and had merely redirected affection that Stella had rejected so easily.

God, why did this have to be so confusing? If Fraser were female would Ray really be hesitating quite so much? Unlikely.]

Yeah. I uh. Yeah.

[Vague but his grip loosens further, now merely resting his hand at Fraser's wrist, but his attention still flickering like he's not entirely certain about keeping eye contact now that the aggression was wavering. It was entirely too difficult to resist that gaze of Benton's though. Pleasure isn't such a bad thing to resist anyway, neither was transcendence... whatever that meant.]

[ If Ray were sober this...would have ended at goodnight, and while it was true that Fraser would have preferred a genuine and sober commitment, that wasn't how things had worked out last time. Ray had been angry, and tired, and against the odds drunk - a rare enough thing - and they'd gotten into a fight. It had ended well enough.

But Ray wasn't sober and Fraser had to judge whether he was sufficiently within his scope to make a decision such as the one Fraser was asking him for. He seemed with it enough about being mad about Stella, collected and informed, coordinated, as the sudden grab for his wrist had neatly demonstrated. His eyes were steady, the pupils contracted to focus on his face. Hi pulse had sped up to match the rush of adrenaline. All the signs were good.

So when that grip loosened, Fraser reacted slow and carefully, moving his had higher, fingers bending inwards so that just the backs of them brushed along the seam of Ray's fly. He sat forward, only so far as to prop his chin on Ray's thigh, and brought his hand higher, slipping his fingers underneath Ray's shirt. ]

I should warn you, Ray. I prefer to be...I believe the word we like to use is...dominant. It isn't about who does what, it's about building trust. [ His hand flat on Ray's stomach now, fingers cool. ] When I ask you to do something, you need to do it, and if you're ever uncomfortable--just ask me to stop. Can you do that?

[Any doubts Ray had about Fraser's genuineness of all this are gradually melting away as those fingers start to drift, providing a far too brief brush against the covered zipper of his jeans. The touch following it isn't anything to frown about though, outdoor-worn hands touching against sensitive skin and causing his breath to hitch just briefly at the tickle of cold fingers against burning warm stomach.

For a second his breath is steady, listening quietly, but all at once he's huffing out a short lived and quiet exhale of a laugh that couldn't be restrained. All while staring down at the head on his knee with a clear shine to his eyes.]

Fraser, you can't expect me to take this seriously if you're gonna throw words like that around.

[So maybe this wasn't so serious after all. Fraser might just have some seriously odd methods of cheering Ray up, and damn, that single word had certainly done it.]

Dominant. Heh. I'll believe that when I see it.

[ That's such a beautiful reaction, such a lovely sound, that for a moment it takes Fraser's breath away and he can't do anything else but marvel at the warmth of Ray underneath him. It's...what he'd hoped for, really, the plan he'd begun to make after realizing that his Ray Vecchio really wasn't about to walk around the corner and reveal that this was just some over the top trick to get a laugh at Fraser's expense. The real Ray Vecchio was gone, but this one... Ray Kowalski promised to be a fine canvas all on his own.

And then he blew out a huffing laugh and Fraser had to do his best not to look immediately insulted by it. It was... Well, it was something to see. Ray had laughed at him before, but this was a genuinely disarmed sort of laugh, as some of the confusion was dismissed as irrelevant. Ray was settling into the idea of this, even if he disbelieved the mode of delivery.

Fraser drew his head up off Ray's thigh, letting his right hand slip across underneath Ray's shirt to his hip while the other hand settled firmly on Ray's right thigh, supporting his weight. Then he leant forward, predatory, and caught the edge of Ray's shirt in his blunt teeth, still staring up at him as though to say 'Challenge accepted'. He tugged the shirt back toward him, then higher, snagging it across the top of Ray's waistband. Then his mouth moved to the button of Ray's fly, Fraser's brow knotting in concentration and his eyes dropping away. Buttons were tricky, but his tongue was superhuman, not much unlike the rest of him, and a moment later he was down on the zip, catching it with his teeth and tugging it down slowly.

He eased back, but not before breathing hot into the exposed slither of space. ]

Take off your shirt.

[So maybe Fraser does know what he's doing because the second Ray's done talking there's that look. It's not a look Ray's actually all that familiar with when it comes to his partner in this kind of scenario, but it's a look he's seen before; a clear acceptance of a dare. Fraser looked like he was perfectly happy to prove Ray wrong, and right now it's hard to tell whether that's a good or a bad thing.

Had to be good, right? What bad can come of Fraser trying to prove himself right in a scenario like this? Sure there might be a bit of Mountie smugness to contend with, but Ray was used to that and if Benton was really that intent on trying to play alpha (play only, because obviously he wasn't in the real world) then Ray wasn't one to stop him.

That mouth is entirely too distracting to really oppose anyway. Ray supposes he shouldn't be surprised at how deftly it works at the button of his jeans, but he's impressed never the less because those are hard enough to do with his hands. God damn that tongue, Fraser always had been far too good with it and now Stan couldn't take his eyes away. This was much better than licking various things off the floor. Much, much better.

And then Fraser was at his zip and tugging with ease, warm breath gusting against him, starkly contrasting the cool air seeping through and just maybe Ray's barely bothered breathing but it's hard to think of something like that when his brain is far too busy considering that how good that mouth might be. He's even hanging off those words as they arrive, hesitating only briefly as he tries to process what's being said.

Just for a second he wonders if that's part of it. It's a request, right? Getting him to do something for Fraser. But it's only a shirt, and he's taken his shirt off in front of Fraser a million times before, and besides it's suddenly getting a lot hotter in the room...

The shirt comes off without ceremony, tugged hurriedly over his head and tossed aside without care.]

You know what you're doin', huh?

[Quietly spoken, rhetorical because it's obvious Fraser does know what he's doing.]

[ Ray couldn't have expected this when he walked into his home and shut the door, imagining that he would be alone. He might not have considered it even in the five minutes after that, before Fraser had made his intentions clear, but here he was stripping for action absolutely without hesitation, hot and bothered already--aroused.

Or well...getting there. Fraser was very happy with the progress he was making in that respect.

Ray's reactions were all worth it. The way he held his breath as Fraser loosened his fly, the timbre of his voice when he actually dared to speak, the way his skin seemed to glow. This was really what he'd been hoping for. He leant back to take in the full depraved effect, Ray watching him with lusty, tired eyes, his shirt off and his fly undone, lit by the low glow of his indoor lighting. It really didn't take much.

He couldn't help the hunger reflected in his own gaze, his expression open, his lips slightly parted and very dry. Fraser ducked lower, brushing a kiss against Ray's thigh, then another, kissing back toward his knee. ]

Mmm.

[ Rhetorical, yes. But since Ray doesn't seem to expect an answer, Fraser just mms against his thigh and drops the rest of the way back. His hands fell away, dropping to Ray's feet to tug off his best dancing shoes, dropping them aside. He wrapped both hands around Ray's left foot, sliding one higher, up his ankle, bending his leg at the knee until the heel rest against the edge of the couch. ]

The first few times, Ray let me blindfold him. I think it let him pretend that I was someone else. Would you like that?

[There was no denying that all of this was exciting him. Uncertainty or not, there was still that appeal of this being something just a little naughty, like they weren't meant to be doing it. Why Ray thought they shouldn't be is something that he still had to consider at a later date, but right now he'd settled for the fact that this felt wrong, but in a good way. How can it not be good when he's sitting there topless and flies undone and a mouth far too close to his dick? Surely that's how he'd like to spend most nights if he could.

Fraser does withdraw though, staring as though he's taking it all in, and maybe Ray should feel a little exposed but with that look of hunger directed at him, it was hard to feel any true embarrassment or awkwardness for what he looked like. Fuck it, Fraser had seen Ray at his best and worse, this can't be all that bad.]

I uh. Yeah. Maybe. I mean, that uh, that might help, I guess.

[There's still that level of uncertainty, even with him sat how he is with Fraser gradually undressing and arranging him. This is entirely new to him, unexpected and still just a little too surreal. It could still all be some elaborate joke...]

But you do anythin' funky when I'm not lookin' and I swear I'll kick you right in the head. I got a good angle on you.

[ Wrong but in a good way was good enough for Fraser. He licked his dry lips as he watched Ray struggle with his sensibilities to find an appropriate answer, and when his partner did say 'yeah, maybe', Fraser was already ahead of him, slipping his hands away from Ray's leg and reaching back into his own jean pocket to slip out the slither of black silk that he'd brought with him. He hadn't come with much in his pockets: a lock pick, a pair of handcuffs--and even those were superfluous when Ray had his own.

He'd get to that point sooner or later. ]

You don't have to kick me, Ray. You can ask me to stop any time you like. Don't hesitate. I won't mind.

[ Fraser peeled down Ray's sock, brushed a kiss against the top of Ray's foot, and then pulled himself up onto the couch, straddling across Ray's other leg so that the top of his knee just brushed against his groin. He knelt upright - which gave him some height looming over Ray - and then brought his hands first to Ray's shoulders, then around behind him.

As the silk slithered deliberately across Ray's eyes, Fraser bent his back, dipped lower, until they were almost nose to nose, and caught Ray's lips with his own. Ray might not want to kiss him, and while he did consider that possible, he didn't want to go without ever kissing him. Those inviting, perfect lips--that mouth, and that grin. A kiss was just a kiss, wasn't it? And with the blindfold on, Ray might not be thinking of what his lips felt like every time he looked at Fraser at work... Or that was the idea. ]

[Ray wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting from the agreement to blindfolds. Sure, it'd probably mean getting blindfolded, that was obvious, but it still left a little too much hanging in the air for him to entirely settle. Not that being truly settled was a normal thing for him, and for the moment he was still vibrating with that usual energy, tinged with uncertainty and excitement because this might be weird but at least it's something new.

He kept his gaze on Fraser as a kiss was brushed at his foot and then drew upwards, a knee placed dangerously close to his crotch as his leg was straddled. Somehow Ray still couldn't keep his attention away, like he was sure that if he looked elsewhere this would all disappear. It couldn't possibly be real and yet he found himself hoping that it was. Maybe he was kind of into this, into Fraser, more than he'd thought for, and that'd be... pretty gay.

With his eyes flicked upwards towards the looming figure of his partner, everything finally goes black, the smooth brush of silk against his face as the blindfold was placed. For a second he feels his heart jump into his throat with the panic of a lost sense and there's a niggling voice in the back of his head suggesting this was a really dumb idea. Anything could happen without his sight. There's no way he can keep alert and catch things before they happen.

He winds himself up with his own thoughts, all worries building up in is mind within seconds. But then there's a distraction that freezes his mind totally. A brush of lips against his that surely shouldn't be as inviting as they felt. Even as Fraser draws away, Ray's mouth still works for a moment more, trying to form some sort of explanation or sense into it all.]

Uh.

[It's a start, but sounds more like a soft sigh escaping his lips.]

I dunno if this is uh. If it's a great idea.

[ Fraser is drawn in by Ray's attention, and the sense that Ray's afraid that he might disappear gets across just perfectly, making it clear that Fraser isn't the only one who wants this--even if Ray isn't entirely aware why or how much he feels the same way. Ray wanted it, and Fraser wanted to make him feel comfortable enough to allow it.

He kissed him very gently, but without hesitation, sighed against Ray's mouth, let his lower lip catch against Ray's lower lip as he retreated. There was the briefest lash of tongue, but in general he didn't dare to commit too much to it.

Ray sighed, and seemed uncertain, and Fraser pulled the blindfold very gently together and knotted it so that his hands were free, brought his hands to the back of Ray's neck, stroked them lower, kneading into his shoulders, soothing as he exhaled against his mouth. ]

Shh.

[ His hands came forward again, and then Fraser dropped them down Ray's chest, palms flat, sliding gently down, lower-lower-lower, resting across his pectorals. His breath gusted against Ray's mouth, and then he leant down, and forward, caught his lips against Ray's chin, then ducked in for his throat, counting on the fact that Ray couldn't see to surprise a reaction out of him as he left wet, warm kisses down the column of his throat. ]

[Fraser was good at this calming thing. He had proved that plenty of times before but none more so than right now as he soothed with lips and hands, massaging against tense muscles and forcing Ray to relax into the persuasive fingers. So maybe Ray could get into this, because if he can accept a massage from a buddy and a kiss from a buddy then he might as well accept more.

There's still that whole taking charge issue he thinks he'll need to address, but right now he'd have no clue what to do so maybe he'll just let Fraser think he's dominant for just a little longer. No harm in getting what he needs before he turns the tables, right?

But out of all of this, the hardest thing Ray has had to overcome is the light request of 'shh'. He can't keep quiet. Not with this happening, not with Fraser's hands trailing against his torso and lips against his skin. There's so much that needs to be said, perhaps some sort of verbal contract about what the fuck this was all about and the hows and the whys, words leave him as there's the feel of warmth pressing against his throat. It takes him a delayed second to realise that it's Fraser's lips there, leaving a wet trail while Ray can't help but tilt his chin upwards, but the sensation has him exhaling a gasp never the less. And Ray finally makes his own touch, nothing more than a simple lift of a hand to blindly grip of Fraser's shoulder and dig his fingers in, but it's grounding and he needs something to remind him this isn't some odd fantasy after the day he's had.]

[ If Ray doesn't think he's really capable of being the leader by the time they're done, then Fraser will happily surrender the reins. He hopes he has what it takes, but it was different with Ray Vecchio. Ray Vecchio hadn't been in it for Fraser himself. He'd been in it for...for the feeling of having something done for him, to be appreciated, and used, and take some comfort in it giving his life structure and meaning. Ray Kowalski might take something else from it, but he was going to be a different kind of challenge too. Fraser would have to adapt to him. But Ray had some adapting of his own to do too--the first being accepting his touch, the blindfold, his lips. Ray was adapting faster than Fraser had ever guessed he might

When Ray gasped into his ear, Fraser only wished he'd been able to draw away and look at him, soak in that expression. He got the next best thing, the hand reaching out to his shoulder to take hold of him, Ray anchoring himself to reality through his bicep. Fraser shuddered, and pressed in more kisses, but only for a moment longer--only until he found exactly the right soft spot to close his lips and teeth into place, sucking a bruise just behind one of the tendons linking Ray's throat to his collarbone. He sucked roughly, hard, making sure to leave a mottled bruise behind before he pulled away, trying to catch a hint of Ray's expression in the process.

And slowly - slowly, so Ray didn't lose his grip on him - he slid back down off the edge of the couch, and stretched up to lap at the center of Ray's chest, liquid warmth that quickly cooled. Another lick, just next to it, and then another, across Ray's nipple. ]

You can speak again now. [ Whispered against it, just before his teeth caught the bud bluntly, and his tongue lashed and flickered at the tip. ]

[Ray's bound to take something from all of this, but right now he was still trying to work out just what that might be. Being appreciated was certainly somewhat of a bonus, to have his partner suddenly showing an interest in him beyond the work environment and doting quite so avidly on him. It was nice to feel wanted, to finally feel like he wasn't the one constantly doing the chasing to get what he wanted and to have someone who wasn't trying to constantly avoid him no matter how much affection he showed. Fraser already knew what he was getting himself into with someone like Ray but this could still just be a rebound, after all Fraser was missing Vecchio, that was fair enough, and Ray was missing Stella.

Rebound.

He's not sure how he feels about being a rebound for the guy he's covering for, but Benton's doing a good job of persuading him that this might just be worth it.

Those lips do a fine job of keeping Stan's mind occupied, enjoying the dotted kisses that trail against his neck, something he could get used to pretty quickly. It's the teeth he doesn't expect, and the second they sink in against sensitive skin, Ray's hissing out, his fingers digging sharply in against Fraser's shoulder as that adamant sucking draws a bruise to the surface. God, he hasn't had that done since high school and he genuinely doesn't remember them being quite so appealing as right now, even if part of him does want to swing a punch at Fraser for trying such a trick. That innocent asshole shouldn't even know stuff like that.

As soon as it started it seems to end again, Ray huffing out a light noise of annoyance, although he's not entirely sure if he's annoyed at the hickey or pissed that it's ended. He's left to ponder that as he feels Fraser shift against him, lowering himself even as his tongue lapped warmly against Ray's exposed torso.]

Wasn't even quiet cause you said. Just... just had nothin' to say right then. Don't think you-- ah, fucker.

[There he was trying to argue that he's totally not doing what Fraser tells him to, only to be interrupted by teeth at his nipple, getting him writhing just briefly against the mouth.]

[ The noises that Ray was making were really quite incredible, and if Fraser hadn't heard them firsthand, elicited in return for his touches, he wouldn't have believed that Ray could make them. They weren't loud noises, weren't moans and whimpers--they were tiny little sounds, a hiss, an annoyed little huff, and Fraser drank them right up. He was definitely doing something right, and he read in Ray's posture and sounds an appreciation for the edge of pain, for the bruising and biting.

And then Ray swore, and was writhing underneath him, twisting gently. Squirming. He lapped again, then drew away once more, lifting his hands off Ray's chest, backing even further away, leaving Ray be in the darkness and vacuum. ]

I think I heard you call me something...well, something very untoward, for someone in your position. [ He circled the couch slowly. ] I don't mind you swearing - in fact I rather think expletives are appropriate - but if you call me something like that again then, Ray, I'm afraid the punishment will be something more severe than a slap on the wrist.

[ Having finished his circuit, he came to a stop in front of his partner again, sliding the pair of handcuffs out of his pocket and dropping down to crouch beside him. The metal edge was brushed against his wrist, so that Ray could work out what he intended. ]

Put your wrists together, Ray. Remember, this is an exercise in trust; your trust in me. I'll keep you safe.

Benton Fraser | Due South

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