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Fraser, of course, faithfully followed the instructions on the sheet Fat Len sent home with him, and that meant the bandage sat there on his bicep, in exactly the same place where Ray had his tat, and didn't budge for twenty-four hours, no matter how much Ray begged and pleaded or what kind of bribes he offered.
"I don't want it to get infected," Fraser said.
"I just want to look at it, Fraser, not lick it," Ray said.
Finally, when the minute hand nudged its way over to the twelve, Fraser set his teeth and ripped the tape off with a loud tearing noise, then slowly peeled down the gauze.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Some Chinese -- wait a minute. You don't know what it says?"
Fraser shook his head.
"Fraser! He could have put Rocky doing something dirty to Bullwinkle on you for all you know."
Fraser craned his head over to look down at his arm. "I can see it, Ray. I just can't read it."
"You trusted Len to -- well, yeah, I guess you did."
God, but it looked good on Fraser's smooth skin. It reminded Ray of fudge-ripple ice cream. He did want to lick it.
"Could you --" Some of that must have shown on Ray's face, because Fraser had to clear his throat. "Could you draw it for me, Ray?"
Ray traced the character as well as he could -- it was hard to tell whether those fiddly little marks were important or just for looks. Fraser smiled a little when he saw it. "Leap."
"Good one for you," Ray said.
"Good one for us," Fraser said.
Ray ran his thumb in a wide circle around the outside of the tattoo, not close enough to touch anything that might be sore, and Fraser shivered and closed his eyes. Ray bent and traced the edge of Fraser's tanktop with his tongue, and then came back up and kissed him for a while.
"Do you like it?" Fraser asked breathlessly a few minutes later.
"I love it," Ray said. "It looks -- it looks so hot, Fraser. I want to see you naked with it."
Fraser nodded a little shakily and pulled the shirt gingerly off over his head. By the time the shirt hit the living-room floor, Ray was halfway done with Fraser's jeans buttons.
Ray gave him some help that he didn't really need in getting the jeans and the shorts off. Normally if he found himself on his knees in front of a naked Fraser, he could have found some way to amuse himself, but this time he got right back up to look at him.
Fraser stood there naked in his not-quite-military posture -- enough guard duty and you apparently got over that problem of not knowing what to do with your hands. Ray circled him slowly, enjoying the way he looked, all that pale skin and the tat on his shoulder like some kind of paint on a marble statue. Fraser was breathing fast.
"You like me looking at you?"
"You know I do," Fraser said, and, yeah, it was pretty obvious.
Ray ran his fingertips gently down Fraser's body, from his collarbone over his nipples and down his belly. "Sometimes," he said more softly, "I want everybody to look at you, Fraser." He tugged Fraser over to the big armchair and hauled him down to sit in front of him, wrapping his arms around him. "I want to show them." He ran his hands over Fraser's chest and down to tug his legs apart, drawing his fingertips up the insides of Fraser's thighs, trailing them up his cock, tipping it out as if to show it to some invisible audience.
Fraser squirmed and sighed against him.
"Or maybe just me looking at you." Ray could hear how gritty his voice was getting, and he pulled Fraser closer and rubbed his cock against Fraser's back. Fraser gasped and pressed back against him. "Just me, because I know you." He put his chin on Fraser's good shoulder and looked down at his own hand cradling Fraser's cock, his other hand sweeping gently over Fraser's lower belly.
Fraser began to tremble, and his hands spread out on his own thighs. Ray licked the back of his neck, and he said, "Ah," and Ray bit him gently just to hear him sigh.
"Just me looking at you, because you turn me on like crazy," he said in Fraser's ear, and Fraser's hand made an indecisive movement and then came up to cup the back of Ray's hand and make it wrap tighter around his cock.
"Fuck yes," Ray said, shoving his hips forward against Fraser's back, and he followed Fraser's lead for a minute before he shook off Fraser's hand and brought his own up to Fraser's mouth. Fraser got it right away and licked his palm nice and wet, panting against his skin as Ray's other hand moved down to tickle softly at his opening.
"You want something else?"
Fraser guided his wet hand down and folded it around his cock again. "Just this," he sighed, and his head, which had been lolling back against Ray's chest, bent forward -- watching Ray's hands on him, and if that wasn't the hottest thing --
Ray flexed his hips faster, rubbing off in the hollow of Fraser's back, and he'd be losing track of what his hand was doing if Fraser wasn't keeping it moving for him, pinching Ray's finger and thumb tighter around the head of his cock and breathing out a little whine at the increasing pressure.
Ray bent his head forward, mouthing at Fraser's neck, past paying attention to anything but the hot slick rub of Fraser's cock in his hand and the hot slick rub of Fraser's back against his cock. He wasn't just rubbing, now, but thrusting shamelessly, seconds from coming -- and then Fraser reached back with his other hand to grab at Ray's hip and pull him against him, again and again, sighing, "Ray -- yes --" until Ray couldn't stop it, and it went through him like a freight train, and he spurted all over Fraser's back.
"Oh --" It should have been him, but he couldn't get enough breath to make noise, so it had to be Fraser. Fraser, who was hunched forward now, rubbing Ray's hand faster and faster over his cock, and Ray got with the program and pushed his other finger inside him, fast, and Fraser froze and cried out and came, back arching so that he pulled away from Ray's chest for a long moment before falling back against him hard enough to squeeze the breath out of him.
It took a couple of minutes for Fraser to figure out he was smooshing Ray, which Ray took as enough of a compliment that he didn't mind too much going without breathing for a bit. Finally Fraser sat forward -- the sticky sound when they peeled apart was pretty gross -- and wordlessly hauled Ray into the shower with him to get cleaned up and do all the kissing they'd missed.
Afterwards Fraser left his shirt off and let Ray spend way too much time slicking his shoulder up with the post-tattoo cream Len had sent home with him. "You gonna go sleeveless tomorrow so you can show Jess and David and the rest?"
"I might," Fraser said, but he had a secretive little smile, and Ray thought probably nobody was going to get to see this new decoration but him.
Suited him fine.
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August 11, 2003