Random, Pointless Snippets: Fraser. by Te thete1@earthlink.net ****** His sleep seems perfectly in character -- restless, mobile, often loud. I was not surprised to wake our first morning together in a tangle of long, lean limbs and twisted sheets... though I must admit I'd hoped he'd settle over time. I am a jealous, irrational being when it comes to this man, and my heart is not shamed in the least by it. I crave his dreams; it's as simple as that. Anything less leaves me unsatisfied and deeply, deeply hungry. But I have reason to believe he likes me that way. ****** The first days out of the hospital are the hardest. My rooms were never luxurious, but my time away has left them chilled, my sheets dusty. The quiet is large. I clean more vigorously than is strictly necessary, and feel my new scars pull here, and here. When I return to the Consulate they will memorize the marks quickly and then never, ever look again -- it is the way of these things. They are mine alone now, now that I am here again in the city, and alone. They are the records of our adventure, and I will hoard them jealously until the day when I may join him again. ****** If you... by Te 8/99 So many people put these thoughts in my head that I *refuse* to take the blame for this. Well, all of the blame. But it's especially Dawn Pares' fault. Daddy793: Fraser would look nice handcuffed to something, naked, and on his knees. Aurorarowa: Yes, he sure would. Daddy793: But people *really* want to see the Ray K. belt-strapping, though. An ecstatic Ray, urging Fraser on, sobbing with it, rock hard, dripping... Aurorarowa: Ooooooohhh... Daddy793: A Fraser closer and closer to snapping at the impossibly harsh sound of leather on flesh, over and over, the reddening flesh, the knowledge that it's his belt, his arm, his self making this pain, making this pleasure... And he doesn't stop. The blunt leather tip of the belt flies at pale shoulders, thighs, the briefly exposed back of a knee. The sounds Ray makes are growing harsher, more difficult to define, but his struggles remain contained. The twisting writhes *end* at some indistinguishable point just before 'stop,' making otherwise smooth movements snap just as abrubtly as the belt in his hand. Wrapped around his fist -- it had to be just so. Ray had done it for him before he started, oh God how long? There seemed to be far less pale than red now, his arm... his arm was made for such motion, so smooth and constant he could do this forever oh -- Fraser shook it off, tried to send his mind elsewhere, anywhere but this dangerous, shaming, needful present, but it held him like living tar -- grasping and sucking and warm, suffocation so sweet... Slipping back in time only showed him Ray wrapping the belt so carefully, just so. Fraser had wanted to ask why, but the air had already escaped the room. It had been too hot, too hard to speak or protest. And Ray had placed a kiss on the leather just before kneeling kneeling kneeling on the bed and slipping to his forearms and saying please -- Fraser heard himself utter something hoarse and for a dizzying, heart- stopping moment it seemed he couldn't feel his arm at all. Later, he would understand this was terror. He flung it from himself like a snake, blanketed Ray's body with his own and was assaulted by the unnatural heat, the scent of salt and tears and real, unaldulterated *pain* -- "Oh, God, Ray --" "Frase, can't breathe --" He rolled off immediately, reached to apologize and ripped his hand back -- the heat rolled off the other man's flesh in waves. "Ray, are you..." Too inane to speak aloud. Silence, and then: "So I'm not going to work tomorrow... or the next week." Amazingly, a laugh. Followed by a long groan, apparently because of the deep breath Ray had taken. "Ray --" "Shhh... that was.... I didn't think --" "How could you let me?" Fraser bit his lip viciously -- he hadn't meant to say that out loud. Not yet... "You liked it. That was what I was going to say. I didn't think you'd... like it." "But --" "I'm so hard, Ben, I feel so good you *beat* me." This time the laugh was longer, louder. "I can't believe you actually did it, I... wow." "You asked." He didn't try very hard to keep the reproach from his voice. "Oh, Ben..." Aborted attempt to roll to face him, followed by a long, low groan. "Shit, you didn't hurt me. OK, ya did, but it doesn't count as hurt --" "I could have. I could have hurt you, I was going to..." "To what?" Quiet and serious, distant only because Ray still wasn't facing him but distant just the same. "I... I don't know. I stopped feeling it, Ray. It was... It was too good." "It probably doesn't help at all to tell you how much this turns me on, does it?" "Please, Ray, I need you to be serious--" "If either of us could reach my hard-on I'd let you know how serious --" "You're *bleeding*." "You did it." "That's --" "You did it for me." Indescribable voice, somewhere between purr and plea, laced with sweet easy poison. "I could've done it just as easily for myself." "Yeah, but you wouldn't've. You did this for me and it felt good. It turned you on... oh, Ben, that's so much..." Fraser was abruptly, pointedly aware that he was still quite hard. Aching and... "I can taste your blood in the air." "You could taste my blood on my skin." "Don't --" "Taste me, Ben. Please, I want you to..." He had thought once that if he ever learned all the tastes of his Ray the hunger, the creeping black pit inside him would quiet. He had been a fool, but he could stop this. He could... "Ray, I don't want to hurt you anymore." "I love you." Ben closed his eyes, squeezed them shut and breathed. And descended. end