ds_flashfiction | Public sex challenge

kassrachel.livejournal.com posting in

I couldn't pass this challenge up! Thanks to

sihayab for her edits. This one's a tad over the word limit, but hopefully it's worth it...

Relief

Ray wasn't sure how he got himself into these things.

He had no desire to spend a Saturday selling tickets at the St. Raphael's street fair. It would be loud, and hot, and there would be screaming kids and spilled slurpees everywhere, and besides, he and Fraser had plans. Plans. Plans to nail each other to the bed, because between Ray spending two nights on stakeout and Fraser being chained to his desk more than usual, they hadn't had their hands on each other in over a week.

But Sister Catherine asked Frannie to help organize it, and she told Ray he was volunteering.

"But Frannie --"

"Of course my brother's going to help me out," she said, sweetly.

"Look, it's not, I just --"

"It's what you're expected to do."

"Okay, I'll owe you, I --"

Her eyes narrowed a little. "Give me one more excuse and I'll make you work the kissing booth."

"Tickets! Selling tickets is fine."

So maybe that was his first mistake. He should have put his foot down. He should have told Frannie no dice, no go, no fucking way was he spending his afternoon tearing tickets off the huge paper rolls and collecting quarters and dollars in return.

His second mistake was what he'd said to Fraser that morning on his way out of bed. The whole conversation was so fresh in his memory, it was like it was still happening:

"You'd like it, wouldn't you?"

"What? Hell, yes, but that's not the point."

"What is the point, then?"

"The point is -- let go, I gotta get up, I told Frannie I'd be there by ten and I have to slam some coffee first or I'll never survive -- the point is, you wouldn't do it."

"I wouldn't?"

"Gimme a break, Fraser, I know you, and you. Would. Not."

"I see. Never mind. Go take your shower, then."

And when Ray got out of the shower, Fraser was gone. In hindsight, he realized he should have noticed how quiet Fraser got, at the end, there, but he didn't see it at the time.

Which is why when Ray stomped onto the fairgrounds, got his badge, and settled himself in the flimsy folding chair inside the ticket booth, he yelped when firm hands grasped his calves.

The "shhh" that came from under the table made his hair stand on end.

The feeling of Fraser's hands tugging him down in the chair, so his hips were barely balanced at the edge of the seat and there was somehow just barely room between his pelvis and the table for Fraser's head to fit, almost unhinged him.

"Fraser!" he whispered, as loudly as he dared. "Are you fucking insane, you can't--"

"Quiet, Ray, or people will think you're talking to ghosts," came the tart reply.

And then his first customer was there. A kid, maybe seventeen, trying to look tough with the ripped jeans and the tight white t-shirt, with his girlfriend right behind him. He wanted ten dollars' worth of tickets.

"Welcome to the St. Raphael's Fair," Ray said, inanely, hoping his voice and the various noises of the fairground covered the zzzit! of his zipper opening.

And then he bit his tongue to keep from moaning as Fraser took the first long, slow lick.

He should have known better. He'd practically dared the guy. Hell, in Fraser's mind, he had dared him. If anybody in the world had a stubborn streak, it was Benton Fraser.

Who was making this the longest, slowest, fucking sweetest blowjob Ray had ever gotten in his life. It took every ounce of his willpower not to pound his fists on the table, not to let his head fall back and thrust hard into Fraser's mouth.

But of course, he couldn't. He was counting tickets for a family with four kids. Hoping his smile looked genuine. Hoping nobody in line could tell that his swollen wet dick was slipping maddeningly in and out of his lover's mouth. In. And out.

He had to count one lady's twenty-four tickets out twice, because halfway there he lost track of where he was, other than holding on to sanity by his fingernails.

At last there was a lull in the line of customers, and he pushed just a fraction further into Fraser's mouth. He had to come. He had to come right that fucking second or he would die.

Fraser seemed to take the hint; he sucked harder, moving his tongue just under the head the way that drove Ray the craziest. Almost there, he was almost --

"Hey there, bro." Mother of God, it was Frannie. Leaning on the front of the ticket counter, drumming her painted fingernails against the tabletop. "How's it going?"

Frozen just at the edge of orgasm, Ray wasn't sure how he found the voice for, "fine." It came out a little strangled.

"You don't sound so hot."

Fraser took that opportunity to pull back and blow a gentle stream of air across Ray's tortured prick. Ray felt the blood drain out of his face.

"I, ah --" He was fumbling for words. Horrified to think that she might know. Oh, God, what if she --

"You look sick," Frannie said, suddenly concerned. "Are you getting enough sleep?"

Fraser popped the head of Ray's dick back into his mouth. Ray bit back a whimper. "Ah, no," he gritted out. "Stakeout. Y'know."

"Shit, Ray, I should have let you sleep in." She looked genuinely remorseful. "Look, the crowd isn't as bad as I thought it would be -- I'll find somebody to cover tickets, go home and take a nap."

"Sounds good," Ray managed.

She headed off towards the Ferris wheel.

"Son of a," Ray started, when suddenly his cock was back in Fraser's mouth, and somehow Fraser had worked a hand up there, kneading his balls in time with the suction, and that did it: Ray was jerking in his chair, pulsing into Fraser's mouth, coming.

He sagged back, his eyes closed. Against his lids he was still seeing stars.

He felt movement by his feet; his chair scooted back an inch; and suddenly Fraser was standing behind him, discreetly wiping the side of his mouth. Bastard didn't even look like he'd gotten a speck of dirt on him, kneeling under the table all that time.

"I cannot believe," Ray began, hoping he sounded slow and dangerous instead of just slow from having come his brains out. And then he stopped, because Frannie was heading their way with a teenaged girl in tow.

"Fraser!" She sounded delighted. "When'd you get here?"

Ray shot his partner a look.

"Francesca, it's a pleasure to see you. I was just stopping by to see if Ray could be...relieved."

Ray hoped like hell the burn in his cheeks looked like too much sun. "Thanks for letting me off the hook, Frannie," he said, fast, and grabbed his jacket to hold in front of his still-unfastened jeans as he climbed out of the ticket booth. Fraser followed him, and shielded him from sight while he hastily zipped up.

"See you later," Fraser said, sunnily, appearing not to notice Frannie's wistful sigh.

Ray grabbed his wrist and jerked him towards the car. "When we get home..."

Fraser coughed. "I confess, I had thoughts about home."

"Oh yeah?"

"I'm afraid I'm in need of some...relief...myself."

"Just you wait," Ray said.

(1240 words)