This story is rated NC-17 (adults only). It includes explicit male/male sex. If this is what you came for, scroll down. If it isn't, hit the Back button.
The moment they returned to Ray's apartment, Ray snatched Fraser's Stetson and put it on his own head, slanting Fraser a heartstopping grin from under his lashes.
Fraser stood there for a moment, stunned at the loveliness of it, and then he went somewhat stiffly into Ray's kitchen in search of something cold to drink.
When he returned to the living room with a beer in one hand and a glass of water in the other, Ray had removed both his jacket and his T-shirt. Well, it was rather warm.
But somehow he was still wearing the Stetson.
He grinned again when he saw that Fraser had already opened a beer for him. "Thanks," he said. "Take off your coat. Stay a while."
Fraser unstrapped, unbuckled, and unbuttoned with unusual clumsiness, trying not to stare at Ray's chest, which was pale and lean and smooth. He folded his jacket carefully and laid it over the back of one of Ray's chairs.
"Boots, too," Ray said. "Make yourself at home." He slurped the first sip of beer noisily, still looking at Fraser with smiling eyes. Swallowing, Fraser set down his glass, leaned against the wall, and began to unlace a boot.
Ray sat down and leaned back, draping one arm over the back of the couch in an attitude of unconscious invitation. It was so difficult not to stare.
At last, barefoot, Fraser sat down beside Ray. Ray didn't remove his arm from the back of the couch. His beer bottle dangled at the edge of Fraser's peripheral vision on one side, while Ray himself was grinning on the other side. Fraser looked straight ahead and tried to keep his breathing steady.
Ray leaned toward Fraser, taking the beer bottle out of his right hand with his left and putting it on the coffee table. This left his right arm free to wrap around Fraser's shoulders cozily.
Ray sighed. "Fraser, I been trying to tell you something here."
"Like earlier tonight? When I told that bozo with the muscle shirt, 'Buzz off, he's with me'?"
"I was with you."
"You'd think so."
Ray tugged on Fraser's shoulder. Uncertain what he meant by the gesture, Fraser shifted closer. Ray gave a grunt that sounded approving. After a moment, though, he said, "Well?"
Fraser raised his eyebrows.
"Yes? No? What?"
Fraser wrinkled his brow.
"I'm trying to seduce you, you maroon."
Fraser frowned at Ray. Surely he had misunderstood. "Into what?"
Ray's eyes closed the way they did when he was counting to ten in his head, though usually this was because he was trying very hard indeed not to hit someone. Then Ray leaned over, without opening them, and kissed him.
Impossible. He was surely dreaming.
Ray tasted faintly of beer, and he was pressing Fraser back against the back of the couch with the force of his kisses. He'd long dismissed the possibility that his attraction to Ray might be mutual, but it was certainly the most probable explanation for his current behavior.
When his hand fell onto Ray's shoulder, he was shocked for a moment at the feeling of bare skin under his fingers, and he inhaled suddenly and kissed with renewed fervor.
After a while the hat tumbled to the floor.
Ray's hands were tugging at his henley, Fraser realized. Had been tugging at it for some time now, actually. Finally Ray grasped Fraser's face, pulled their mouths apart, and said, "Shirt off, Fraser."
Fraser obeyed, and Ray's hands were all over him, stroking the nape of his neck, working up his ribs, thumbing his nipples, sliding with the lightest of touches over his shoulders and upper arms. He shuddered.
"Yeah," Ray said into his ear. "You feel incredible." He put one knee on the couch and pulled Fraser closer, and now his hands were finding sensitive places on Fraser's back while his heart was pounding against Fraser's chest, and Fraser's breathing was loud in his own ears.
Ray was huffing against the side of his head now, making little frustrated noises, and at last he huffed out, "Touch me," and Fraser removed his hand from Ray's shoulder (which had become rather sweaty under his grasp) and ran it down Ray's back. His skin was warm and slightly damp and completely hypnotic. Fraser ran his hand up again.
Ray made another annoyed noise and removed his mouth from Fraser's ear. "I gotta explain everything to you, Fraser?"
Fraser blinked. "Evidently, yes."
Ray looked at him for a moment more -- his lips were puffy, now, and his eyes were dilated, and he would have looked completely defenseless if his slowly growing smile hadn't been so wicked.
"All right, then," he said, and he took Fraser's other hand off the back of the couch and molded it firmly against his groin, where Fraser could feel him, hot and hard, through the denim. Ray's eyes fell half-shut, and he moved Fraser's hand slowly up and down. "I can live with that."
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July 23, 2003