One night stand challenge

[sihayab.livejournal.com]

Many thanks to kassrachel and the_star_fish for their invaluable help and support. Bless you, ladies.

Ringing in at 1,360 words. Not work safe.



Showoffs


Fraser’s mouth pulls back from mine long enough for him to whisper.

“They’re still watching, Ray.”

And he dives right back in.

I’m so down with that. Except it’s all for show. Not really real.

Wish it was, though.

I push away that thought. We’re here on a job, not on a date. But it’s not a problem to moan a little and grab Fraser’s ass like a drowning man grabs a fire extinguisher. He shifts against me and damn, is he sporting wood.

Of course, so’m I.

But I need to see these guys, so I shift and pull and viola! Fraser’s got his back to the door and I kinda glance from under half-closed eyes and God dammit, the bastards are crowding the doorway and practically drooling, like society types waiting for the doors to open for a ball gown sale at Marshall Fields.

Now, if there was an actual door to go with the doorway, this would be the time for me to stalk over and slam it in their butt-ugly faces. But there isn’t.

So I don’t.

Fraser kisses his way along my jaw and I moan again. Partly because I want to, and partly to cover up what Fraser’s whispering in my ear.

“Apparently we will have to escalate matters.”

No shit.

“God, Dave, yeah.” My voice’s kinda growly, and I had to remind myself of Fraser’s handle, but he seems to get the message, ‘cause he grabs two handfuls of my ass and squeezes.

“I want,” he whispers, his breath all warm and moist on my neck. He’s shaking and his hands are flexing and he’s rubbing against me so hard my eyes are crossing. “Oh, please, John, I want—”

“Say it.” I let go his ass and grab his face and look straight into his eyes. No misunderstandings. He has to tell me exactly how far he can go with this, and I’m not gonna try to second-guess him.

The cop part of me knows how important this is, what’s riding on our performance. The rest of me could care less about the job -- but cares a whole lot about Fraser. I can’t afford to fuck up the assignment, but even more importantly, I don’t want to fuck up my friendship with Fraser.

“What d’you want me to do, Dave?” His eyes flicker, and I can feel his face heat up. He glances away.

Shit. He’s hating this. Not that I blame him. Public sex isn’t exactly a turn on for me. Especially when I’d rather have something real with Fraser. Something long-term. Settled.

With sex, of course.

Not a one-night stand in a crappy club pretending to be guys we aren’t.

Don’t get me wrong. I want this -- this whatever it is with Fraser –- since it’s probably all I’ll ever get. And if we pull this off, a bunch of scum-suckers’ll be put away for a long time.

But.

But how can I do this to Fraser? Use him like this?

I can’t.

Screw it. I’ll figure out how to salvage the situation, how to save the job, but I can’t mess up what I have with Fraser. Even if it’s not what I’d like it to be.

So I give his cheeks a pat and start to drop my hands, but he grabs my wrists and holds them there, against his face. And he meets my eyes and...

And my heart does a flip flop in my chest at what I see.

“Do me, John,” he says, his voice loud and firm.

I stare at him like he’s even more unhinged than usual, and the peanut gallery erupts into a chorus of hoots and whistles.

Maybe he thought I didn’t hear him, ‘cause he gives me one of those Fraser-special smiles, leans forward, and whispers “Fuck me, Ray.”

I give his cheeks a little rub, and he closes his eyes for a second, like it means something to him.

“You sure?” I breathe.

He grabs my ass again and nibbles on my earlobe. “Never more so.”

The audience is getting rowdy, so I turn and glare. Something sails toward me from the back of the pack and I reach up and snag it.

Lube.

When I turn back to Fraser, he’s facing the wall, arms braced.

I almost lose it.

Okay. Okay. I can do this. Hell, I’m desperate to do this.

So I kiss my way across Fraser’s shoulders and reach around, fingers searching for his fly.

He’s already popped the button and lowered the zip.

And isn’t wearing any underwear.

Yeah, I knew that. I’m not either. The guy who dressed us for this gig practically had to rip the boxers out of Fraser’s hands. I’ll have to thank him sometime.

I inch his jeans down his thighs, shielding him from the rubberneckers as much as I can. No time to do the whole wining-and-dining thing, but I’m damned if I’m just going to treat Fraser like one of those plastic virginia things that you turn on and stick your dick in.

I lean over his back. “You okay?”

“Hurry. Please.”

His voice sounds tighter than Cher’s facelift, so I pop the lid on the lube and get my fingers nice and wet.

Fraser’s skin’s impossibly soft, and I’d really like to take the time to touch it for a while. Maybe add some licking. A suck or two. But he moans as I rub him, takes a deep breath, and damn -- my finger slips right inside.

How the hell’d he do that?

Who the hell cares?

My other hand’s stroking his dick, and it seems to like what I’m doing, ‘cause it’s making all the right happy-dick moves.

Speaking of dicks, mine’s about ready to rip its way through my jeans, so I give Fraser’s a quick squeeze before moving around to unzip myself.

Jesus. I coulda put someone’s eye out with that.

Fraser’s moaning pretty non-stop by now, only breaking off long enough to repeat “Now, now,” over and over, so I pull out my fingers. Get my pocket all greasy as I try to get the rubber out, and rip it open with my teeth. Roll it on and slick up. He wasn’t kidding with the now; as soon as I get myself positioned, he pushes back and wham, I’m sliding inside the hottest, tightest place my dick’s ever been, bar none.

Want to shout his name, but manage to turn “Fraser” into a hiss and grunt. “God,” I say as my hips take over and I’m pumping and grinding and pushing so deep they’re going to need heavy equipment to get me out. “Oh, God.”

He’s pushing back like he really likes this, and the “now” has changed to “John.” Which kind of sucks, because I want to hear him say “Ray, Ray, Ray.”

I lean over again and grab his dick and he shudders like the Goat when it hits ninety and then comes all over my hand with a strangled groan.

I’m so close that I just have time for one more stroke and then I’m coming hard inside him.

Stars sparkle behind my eyelids as I collapse across his back, my hips still going, pretending that the party’s not over for the moment. Give his neck a sloppy kiss.

By the time I recover enough to pull out and get us both presentable, the audience’s gone looking for fresh meat.

Fraser’s all mussed and sweaty, his cheeks pink. If we didn’t have a job to do, I’d get his clothes off and spend the rest of the evening teaching him patience and, hopefully, driving him out of his mind. Instead, I give him a kiss, sweet this time.

“That was... above and beyond the call of duty.”

His cheeks get really red. “I... I’ve wanted to for a while now, and this seemed my only opportunity—”

“Really?” Before he can say any more, I grab him and pull him close. “Come home with me.”

He strokes my back once. “For tonight?”

I close my eyes. “For always.”

His breath catches, then he whispers, “Thank you kindly, Ray.”