Benton Fraser | Due South

[dogsled]

BENTON FRASER。

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

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[kickem]

[That edge of pain was something he appreciated more than he'd even realised. It wasn't often that he'd thought to bring that into the bedroom or had the chance to, but there'd always been that sort of grim satisfaction he got from a scuffle, whether it was on the streets or in the ring. He couldn't help but enjoy that sting of pain and the lingering sense it had on the body even days after. This was the same deal, that bruising on his neck would be there as a reminder whether he liked it or not, but he was starting to think he liked that very much.

He likes the tongue too, but it didn't last long enough for him to full enjoy before Fraser was pulling back and then full away, leaving Ray without anything to hold onto and without anything to look at. Suddenly the blindfold seems like less of a good idea, unable to judge just what his partner is up to, but straining his ears to try and follow where he might be going, head twisting to follow the sound of Fraser's voice as he circles.]

Heh, punishment. C'mon, you deserved that one for bitin' like that. [The loss of touch is enough to get him fidgeting again, impatient but never moving off the couch. He gets it, he thinks. The lack of Fraser is 'punishment' enough for the swearing. Bad means no Fraser, good means the return of Fraser, right? That would be logical, and sometimes Ray can get logic.

But Fraser does return and Ray can almost sense the presence before him, ears still straining to make sure he catches what's happening. He hears the soft clink of metal, familiar enough without the brush of cool metal against his wrist. He knows what's going on.]

Trust. Right. So I gotta just sit here unseein' and cuffed up and trust you're not gonna fuck with me?

[And yet his hands settle in his lap, drawing closer together.]

[dogsled]

Yes.

[ It was a simple, very direct answer, and at the same time as Fraser gave it, he closed the handcuffs first around one wrist, and then about the other, closing them until they clicked twice, leaving enough room for Ray's wrists to move about within the space. It'd let him reach across to Fraser if he wanted, turn his hands in both directions, do what he pleased so long as one hand never strayed too far from the other.

Ray was listening hard, though, he could tell. Fraser enjoyed watching him pay attention as he circled, tilting his head first one way and then the other, even though Ray did start to twitch after a moment or two. He'd timed it just right, staying away just long enough that Ray understood why he was gone, and not so long that Ray had grown impatient and yanked the blindfold off, or cut him off completely.

What he mostly absorbed from Ray was simple. After all the time he'd spent without tenderness, without touch, he wanted it desperately. And he was still Ray, still a tough nut, capable and eager to take a few bruises and scrapes to prove that he'd experienced something. He didn't mind that it was Fraser doing these things, didn't mind that it was Fraser leaving marks behind on him that would be visible for days--even enjoyed it.

Fraser licked his lips, taking Ray in like that for a moment, with his hands cuffed and the blindfold in place, his fingers still on Ray's pulse at his left hand. Finally he moved up and forward, rewarding Ray for his patience by climbing across his lap, and making sure to guide Ray's hands up between their bodies. ]

I'm going to take off my shirt now, Ray, and you can touch me. [ He did just that, reached down and lifted his shirt off, dropping it aside. Heat and scent lifted off him in a wave. ]

[kickem]

[Ray really was listening, it was one of the few things he could do now that his sight had been taken away from it. If he couldn't see what Fraser was up to, then he'd just have to strain his ears listening, and appreciate what touch he could actually feel. Maybe this was what being a Mountie was like, heightening each sense to make it more rewarding. Hopefully this wasn't part of their weird Canadian training, but then again Fraser had to have learnt all this from somewhere.

With Fraser closing in again, those handcuffs are slipped on, Ray aware of the cool metal felt enclosing loosely around his wrists and the soft clickclick of them locking into place. It was a familiar feeling and yet one he was rarely on the receiving end of. He just didn't really get much chances to wear handcuffs, and that was probably for the best because they rarely meant anything good, except apparently in this sort of scenario.

Out of some odd instinct he tests the bounds, pulling his wrists lightly away from one another to check just how much movement he'd get from it all. Not entirely restrictive, he decides, but enough that he'll probably get frustrated with it within minutes. As always though Fraser soon provides a useful enough distraction as he climbs into Ray's lap with his reassuring weight.]

Touch but don't look, huh? I dunno if that's fair.

[But he appreciates the guidance of his hands to Fraser's torso, settling them close to his waistband the moment there's skin exposed and blindly chasing the shirt as it's lifted off. He briefly moves to dart his fingers over Fraser's shoulders, but as his hands part to do so, they're restricted by a reminding clink and Ray's left to grunt out a noise of frustration and instead lower his exploring back towards well formed abdominals. His touch is careful, partially from uncertainty and partially from lack of sight, but his fingers explore slowly upwards, just slightly uncoordinated thanks to those cuffs throwing him off. He leans in too, just slightly, like the warmth of Fraser's body is just a little too appealing to be away from. It's been some time since he's been up and close with someone else like this.]

[dogsled]

[ Ray was enjoying the challenge, Fraser thought, even if he found it hard to adapt to being restrained in this sort of situation. Actually, Ray seemed to find it hard to adapt to being restrained at all, though he was comparatively still considering what Fraser expected from him. It was a demonstration of trust, and Fraser was grateful that it was being placed in him. He wouldn't let Ray down.

Ray was eager, too; he lay his hands gently on Fraser's waistband, and slid his fingers higher, chasing the retreat of his shirt as he pulled it away. Those eager hands crossed his shoulders, and then all at once it seemed as though Ray was free to do as he pleased, wandering where he pleased to feel out the contours of Fraser's muscles. His hands were warm, but the jitter seemed to diminish completely as he found his comfort zone, as it became a genuine and even eager exploration.

Fraser took in a shuddering breath, a little wisp of a gasp that Ray would only hear because he was so close, leaning in closer - probably without realising he was doing it - pressing into Fraser's heat and personal space in a wonderfully endearing way, like a man desperate for comfort. ]

All is fair, Ray [ He murmured back, leaning in to Ray's ear. ] in love and in war.

[ His arm slid around Ray's back, clutching him just a little closer, though the angle wasn't right to press against him, especially with Ray's arms between them. His other came to Ray's jaw, curling around it, bracing his chin and guiding his lips against his own. The kiss he offered was soft and tender, urgent and yet slow and gentle too, giving Ray the option to respond, his lips parting to offer him the chance to explore his mouth with the same vigor as he was Fraser's bare chest. ]

[kickem]

[Ray had thought the blindfold would be the solution to all his problems. He'd assumed that, somehow, the moment he slipped it on he could drift into some fantasy land where this was Stella before him and he could sail through this interaction with his childhood love. And yet right now it appeared to have the opposite effect, his mind struck with a burning curiosity of just what lay before him. He knew it was Fraser, a blindfold couldn't change that, but the fact that he wanted so urgently to see what his fingers were touching was bringing up plenty of unspoken questions. It was Fraser. That knowledge wasn't bothering him and he had to wonder why.

Despite his initial suspicions of this being an elaborate prank, Ray could admit he trusted Fraser even while he was blinded and cuffed like this. Canadians didn't lie. The Mountie would see he was safe because that's what he did, that's what they both did; they looked out for each other. This may not be a deadly gunfight or exploding cars, but it was still the two of them against the world.

Besides, it was satisfying to hear those soft noises from Benton. That barely there gasp telling Stan that he was doing something right with those trailing fingers and that maybe this is a side to Fraser he wouldn't mind seeing - or more like hearing - more of. That closeness between them has Ray huffing right back, a soft, breathy exhale as their bodies press in closer together, his hands still caught between them and keeping them distanced reluctantly. But his fingers stop their exploring the moment he feels Fraser's breath against his lips and then there's that kiss.

It's like a first kiss all over again, tentative yet eager as if Fraser's testing the water. Ray's mind had been a little more pre-occupied last time, but now he had nothing but his partner before him and the careful consideration of just what he wanted from all this. There was still that uncertainty, that hadn't changed, but this time he's more willing to at least dip his toe into this previously untouched pool. He can't be blamed if it's Fraser that initiated it. All blame would be on the Mountie and of course 'Not my fault' is exactly the sort of reassurance Ray needed for himself to finally return some affection.

He lets Fraser do much of the work to start with but eventually Ray works his mouth into the silent conversation against Benton's own lips. He feels the parting as an invitation but is slow on the uptake, his tongue barely flicking forward as if any further is somehow overstepping a boundary he's not sure of. Trying to decide what's buddies any more is proving increasingly difficult.]

[dogsled]

[ Fraser was more than happy to play the game of first ever kisses. It had been a long time since his first kiss; once upon a time, when Fraser had paid a quarter to steal a kiss from a business savvy American Indian girl who had lined the boys up in the food hall to industriously vest them of their lunch money.

This wasn't anything like that chaste little peck that a humiliated Fraser had pitifully explained to his chagrined grandmother when he'd returned home. She hadn't been angry with him, and Fraser hadn't known why. Surely paying for kisses was tantamount to...well. He was a young boy not an idiot.

So back to first kisses--this was their first kiss all over again - and okay, actually the second - but with Ray catching up to him, reciprocating, albeit uncertainly. Ray's mouth worked against his own, and then his tongue came uncertainly into the gap between them, and electricity jumped through Fraser at the contact. He'd had his mouth in Ray's lap, but this was their first intimate touch, really--tongues on tongues, and Fraser barely dared with the touch.

After a moment he leant in closer, closed his mouth against Ray's and slid his tongue down the length of Ray's, then dipped it underneath, firm and unrelenting as he urged Ray into the space of his own mouth. He sucked on the tip of it and all but begged for the contact to deepen, squeezing firmly around Ray's back as he did, moaning ever so softly.

This was what a first kiss should be like. This was heaven, the taste of Ray's mouth, the heat of him, the sudden and overwhelming passion, like static in the air between them. ]

[kickem]

[This was something he missed. The intimacy and familiarity of getting this close to someone, to have a kiss that's something more than a chaste peck on the lips. He and Stella had managed to get back to that briefly only hours before, but Fraser and a bomber had quickly put an end to that developing into more. It wasn't Fraser's fault though, Ray had to remember that, and if it hadn't been for the Mountie then maybe there'd be much less of both Ray and Stella left right now. Perhaps this was Fraser's way of making up for it, who knew, but it wasn't such a bad method if it was.

It was hard not to react to the body pressing in against him, the warmth of Benton's skin as his palms are pressed against the flat of his stomach, and that encouraging tongue sliding in against his own. It was a whole new level of personal but it really wasn't something to be frowned at, not when Fraser was quite so responsive and enthusiastic. For some reason the Mountie wanted this and Ray was starting to fall for the persuasive argument laid out before him. After all, the two of them hadn't known each other for long, not in the grand scale of it all, but within their first day together Ray had felt more connected and more entrusting in Fraser than any of his previous partners. This was a guy he would take a bullet for and he knew the honour would be returned without question. If he can put his life in Benton's hands, then why not something like this?

The familiarity was a constant. There was something about the way his partner touched and moved that was consistently reaffirming and settling Ray's jittery nerves, just the same as if they were out on the field. Granted this was more than a reassuring hand on the shoulder, but the way their tongues touched seemed to speak more volumes than could be said with words.

As Fraser sucked against his tongue, Ray couldn't help but gasp softly against his mouth, encouraged enough to venture forward and press the advantage of that invitation. He touched and tasted everywhere he could, sliding in against teeth, tongue and even tickling up against the roof of his mouth. That moan had been all the coaxing he'd really needed.

He does pause though, long enough for him to draw his tongue back but still keep his lips lightly against Fraser's as he mutters into his mouth, already slightly out of breath even from such a brief interaction.] I uh. I think I'm okay with this.