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.
Julad: all these epic fucking ideas
resonant shakes head: Sex. What we need is sex.
Julad: you know, you're absolutely right
Julad: I'd love to start a story with "For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, Ray and fraser are having sex."
For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, Ray and Fraser are having sex.
Well, OK, so actually it isn't sex yet, because they've still got most of their clothes on. Fraser took off the red thing at a more innocent part of the evening. Later on, when things were no longer even remotely innocent, Ray pushed the suspenders off his shoulders. Every now and then Ray gets his elbow or his hand caught in one of them, and Fraser says, "Oh, excuse me," and helps untangle him, but so far neither of them has been able to keep his mind on one subject long enough to actually unfasten them.
Fraser's undershirt is unsnapped down as far as it will go, which is not damned far enough, as far as Ray's concerned. Ray's T-shirt is rucked up under his armpits, proving that Fraser's the more practical of the two when it comes to sex.
Ray looks down over that twist of green knit to where he can see Fraser's dark hair and pale forehead, and then he hauls the fabric up so he can see Fraser's mouth, which is open against his skin ... Fraser's tongue, which is delicately flicking his nipple. Fraser opens his eyes, and sees Ray looking, and closes them again.
Ray lets out a strangled noise and tries to haul the T-shirt over his head without doing anything that would make Fraser stop what he's doing, but Fraser opens his eyes again and opens -- damn it! -- his mouth and says, "Let me help you." Ray pushes on the back of Fraser's head, trying to get that tongue back where he wants it, and in the process he lets go of the T-shirt and it falls down far enough to block his view again. "Fuck," he says, and then Fraser does something that probably involves teeth, and it shoots a pang of pleasure through Ray's body, and Ray forgets watching and lays his head back against the back of the couch with a groan.
Fraser's alternating between licking and biting now, with a rhythm that's almost musical, and Ray's starting to squirm, trying to get some contact on the rest of his body. It suddenly occurs to him that he can feel Fraser's left hand -- it's wrapped around him, just above the waistband of his pants, like an almost-hug -- but he has no idea where his right hand is. Or what it's doing. Jesus, if he's jerking off ... What a picture. Ray will never say anything bad about the stupid uniform pants ever again.
"Fraser --" he says between gasps.
And Fraser lifts his head.
His mouth is swollen. And just about the time their eyes meet, Fraser's right hand comes down on Ray's crotch.
"Yes, Ray?" he says.
"Yes -- oh, shit, yes," Ray says, pushing his hips up, never taking his eyes off Fraser's face. Fraser tightens his hand, jacking him with gentle precision through the khakis, and watching him with a sort of sleepy intensity. Like it's been bugging him not to know what Ray would look like with Fraser's hand on his dick, and he's happy to be able to satisfy his curiosity. "Fuuuck," Ray says.
Fraser gets back up on the couch and gets his mouth on Ray's without ever losing his grip. His mouth is just as hot as it was in the kitchen in front of the open refrigerator, the first time, twenty minutes ago, when he turned Ray's whole life inside-out. Ray bites his lip and gets a little gasp, a slight tightening of the hand, and suddenly he can't stand not to be touching skin.
He grabs for his fly, but his hand catches in the damned suspender again, and the more he struggles the more tangled up he gets. Fraser doesn't come to his rescue this time, for the very good reason that Fraser is working the button himself, and when Ray hears the hiss of the zipper coming down he stops struggling and just grabs onto Fraser's hip as best he can.
Fraser rubs at him through his shorts, and then he grabs the fabric and hauls it up until he can get his hand in through the leg opening. When Ray looks at Fraser, Fraser's watching his own hand drawing Ray's cock out into the open air, and Fraser says, "Oh, Ray," like *he* was the one getting fondled here. And then Fraser's fist closes over it and Ray can't keep his eyes open any more.
"Fuck," he says again as Fraser finds a hard, fast rhythm, and his head falls forward against Fraser's shoulder, which is still covered up by the white undershirt. When Fraser begins to twist his hand, Ray bites him hard through the fabric, and Fraser lets out a breathy "Ah!" and Ray tugs on the shirt with his teeth and then turns his head and licks Fraser's neck right where it meets his shoulder.
God, he tastes good -- not just sexy-good but almost like food. Ray licks a little harder, and Fraser squeezes a little harder, like they're hooked up together or something. And Ray's humping up into his hand now and biting and sucking all the skin he can reach, and when Fraser whimpers Ray spills all over both of them.
"Oh, jesus, oh," he sighs into Fraser's neck, and Fraser nudges his face up and kisses him, hard and desperate.
Ray tries to move his hand and finds it's still tangled up in the suspender, and he's only got a couple of inches of give because Fraser's sitting on the damned thing. Before he has the brain cells to unwrap it or the muscle power to pull it loose, Fraser's got his pants unzipped and is jacking himself roughly with his come-wet hand, grunting into Ray's mouth, and it's only a few seconds before Ray feels him coming, too.
"Ray," Fraser sighs as the last shudders die down, and he gives Ray one last soft, deep kiss and then buries his face in Ray's shoulder. After a moment, Ray begins to slide backwards, and Fraser just follows him down, sprawling out half on top of him on the couch.
"Uh, Fraser --" Ray's hand is still caught. "Can you -- I'm kinda tangled up here --"
"Mm," Fraser says. "Certainly -- just a moment --" But his eyes never open.
Ray tugs his left hand out from where it's pinned against the cushion and cups the back of Fraser's head. "No hurry," he says.
For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, he settles down beneath Fraser and spends a long time watching him sleep.
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Back to in medias Res
May 9, 2002