ds_flashfiction | Amnesty -- public sex

lynnmonster.livejournal.com posting in

Here's my amnesty entry for the "public sex" challenge.

My thanks to everyone who listened to me wibble endlessly about POV, and everyone who helped cheerlead me into finishing this. And my abject adoration goes out to

brooklinegirl for her many patient and insightful betas-on-demand!

Confessional

"Did you or did you not say that you found me attractive?" Ray hissed through the ornately filigreed grate.

"Perhaps now is not the best time to discuss this, Ray," Fraser whispered back.

"Now is the perfect time! Look, Fraser, I'm ... I'm here as a truth-seeker, all right? And you're on the priest's side of this box, so you can't lie." The visibility through the little cross-shaped holes was minimal, but Ray could probably still see Fraser run his thumb across his eyebrow on the other side of the confessional. Fraser aborted the movement and wiped his suddenly-damp palm on his jeans instead.

"I'm not sure that's actually ..." Fraser trailed off as the dim shape on the other side of the barrier ducked out of sight.

Fraser heard the scuffle of Ray bolting out of his own cubicle only a moment before he darted into Fraser's, closing the door solidly but softly behind him. He leaned back against it and crossed his arms. "Well?" he demanded in a fierce whisper.

Fraser shifted on the hard wooden bench. The close confines, the churchly hush, and the need to remain quiet all conspired to make him ill at ease. "Ray, perhaps you should return to your side. We are endeavoring to remain unseen, after all, and --"

"And it doesn't matter which side of this cabinet I'm sitting in. We're hiding from those bozos, so we're going to be stuck here for a while. They won't hear us if we're not loud," Ray insisted with quiet determination. He nodded to himself and then leaned forward. "You're stalling. Now talk."

Fraser carefully blanked his face of all expression and focused on a spot somewhere around Ray's right shoulder. "Very well. You know that I said so." He lifted his gaze and met Ray's piercing stare with one of his own. "You did ask, after all. Repeatedly."

The tension that had been gripping Ray so rigidly seemed to vanish, and he slumped back and let his arms drop to his sides, no longer menacing. "Yeah," he said. "Um. About that."

And suddenly it was Fraser straining forward, and Ray not making eye contact.

"See, I was -- you gotta understand, I mean, you've met Stella now, and I just ... I never knew how to be with anybody but her. Not really. And -- new job, new name, old grudge, old memories -- I was kinda messed up that day." Ray ran a hand through his hair. "And, like, there you were -- all.... Well. I didn't -- I mean, fuck. When I asked, you know, as a woman, I just wanted to hear that I wasn't some freakish loser. But, um. When, when you answered --"

Fraser interrupted, if stepping in to fill the pause could be called such. "Ray. It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable."

Ray finally looked up at him and managed half a smile. "No, no. I know that. That's not what I meant."

Fraser waited.

Ray's voice was pitched so low that Fraser was grateful for his sensitive hearing. "See, I thought I knew what I wanted to hear. But then, when you said I was attractive ... I just, all of a sudden I wanted you to mean it. And I mean you-you, not hypothetically-a-woman-you. For real."

Ray started to pace, but one half-aborted step brought him to Fraser's end of the priest's cubicle, the leg of his pants brushing up against Fraser's knees in the claustrophobic space. He jerked around and let out a frustrated grunt. Fraser reached out and caught his wrist.

Ray froze, seemingly immobilized by Fraser's loose grip.

Fraser didn't know why such a light touch would have such a profound effect; Ray appeared to be fascinated by Fraser's fingers on his wrist. Fraser tried to catch his attention. "Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray."

Eventually, Ray registered the steady litany of his name being repeated -- softly, due to the circumstances -- and turned his face toward Fraser with an inquiring head tilt. "...Ray. Ah." Once Fraser had Ray's attention, he didn't quite know what to do with it. He watched Ray, rather at a loss, but Ray just kept looking quizzically back.

Fraser broke the stare first, and tugged at Ray's wrist, drawing him closer. He didn't know whether it was Ray's urgent forthrightness or their rather apt location, but he felt the need to respond to Ray's honesty in kind. He cleared his throat, but it still seemed difficult to speak. "I did mean it. Not hypothetically." Ray's eyes flicked from side to side and back again, as he searched Fraser's face for any trace of mockery. Greatly daring, Fraser ran his hand up Ray's warm forearm (savoring the feel of his palm skating over the softly springy hairs en route) until he was gripping his partner's elbow. "I still do."

A flurry of movement -- Fraser was reminded of a cloud of blackbirds being startled into the air -- and Ray was straddling him on the hard wooden bench. Ray gripped the collar of Fraser's flannel shirt and Fraser felt the puff of Ray's breath on his neck. "Me too," Ray admitted in a rasping voice, directly into Fraser's ear.

Fraser leaned back, to get a better view of Ray, but Ray followed his movement and pressed his cheek against Fraser's temple. "Wait. Gimme a sec, here, Fraser. Just, uh, just a second." Ray let out a breathy and humorless chuckle, its very unevenness belying the unsteadiness of his respiration. Although Fraser couldn't get a good look at him, Ray's agitation was clear. He could feel the rapid pounding of Ray's heart where his chest was pressed tightly against Fraser's upper arm.

Fraser shifted, and lifted his arms to encircle Ray. After a moment's deliberation, he hesitantly ran his hands down Ray's back in an attempt to soothe. Ray shuddered and inhaled deeply. Fraser froze, but the touch seemed to galvanize Ray into action. Cupping the back of Fraser's head, Ray crashed his mouth down onto Fraser's in a frenzied, tooth-clicking kiss. Fraser felt a sting where Ray's incisor nicked him.

Ray backed off. He touched his finger to Fraser's tingling lip, and rubbed the tiny drop of blood away. "Sorry, I meant to, uh--" he said, and sought out Fraser's mouth again. This time, his lips met Fraser's gently, and he captured Fraser's bottom lip softly between his own as he pulled away. He repeated the pattern several times; kissing Fraser's slightly open mouth, catching a lip, tugging and pulling back, and diving in again.

Fraser was hypnotized by the rhythm of it, and when Ray's mouth didn't return on cue, he found himself blindly chasing after it. Ray allowed Fraser to pull him closer and kiss him more thoroughly; Fraser was gratified to finally tangle Ray's tongue with his own. He felt the vibration of a whine escape from the back of Ray's throat and made his own desperate noise as Ray traced down the line of his neck with his thumb. Ray rubbed the patch of skin exposed above Fraser's collar, and popped the top few buttons open in quick succession. He slid his flattened hand into the gap he'd created before Fraser could register what he was doing, and by the time Fraser recovered from the shock of Ray's warm palm on his chest enough to form a protest, his own arousal had skyrocketed past his concern for propriety.

Ray stroked Fraser's chest and opened two more buttons, much more slowly. "Shhhh," he admonished, perhaps sensing Fraser's incredulity, and followed the path of his fingers with licking kisses.

"Dear Lord," Fraser gasped, trying to remain quiet, as Ray's wet mouth found a particularly sensitive spot. He squirmed away involuntarily, banging his head against the wall and accidentally knocking Ray halfway off of his perch. Ray chuckled and took the opportunity to resettle more firmly onto Fraser's lap. The ringing in Fraser's ears could be blamed equally on either the knock to his skull or the sudden pressure of Ray's ... anatomy ... against his own.

Ray pressed against Fraser more firmly. "Jesus, Fraser," he moaned, with an involuntary hitch of his hips. Fraser grasped the back of Ray's shirt and gracelessly yanked it upwards. Ray straightened up and batted Fraser's hands away. He impatiently shrugged out of his holster, then pulled his t-shirt one-handed over his head and tossed it onto the narrow floor as Fraser struggled with his own remaining buttons.

Ray's gaze sharpened -- and Fraser wondered how he must look, with his shirt lying open, his hair in disarray, and his bruised-feeling mouth hanging agape like some vapid yokel's.

But Ray obviously saw a different picture, the way he was staring at Fraser so hungrily. He pushed the sides of Fraser's shirt further apart and ran his hands down Fraser's sides. Ray shook his head slowly, intently watching his hands on Fraser's torso. "Most miraculous thing that's ever happened to me in church," he breathed, and leaned in for another kiss, firmly grasping Fraser's waist.

Ray's tongue ratcheted Fraser's ardor to almost unbearable heights. Fraser pushed up against the hardness hovering above his own and rubbed against it. Ray stilled for a split-second, then abandoned his grasp on Fraser's waist in favor of attacking his belt buckle. He worked the strap through the stubborn metal clasp. At the sound of leather slapping against leather, Ray shuddered against Fraser's mouth. As the belt finally eased free, Ray and Fraser stopped kissing. Their foreheads knocked together as they tried to look down simultaneously at the irrefutable evidence of progression into serious sexual territory.

"Ow," said Fraser.

"Uh," said Ray, absently rubbing the sore spot on his forehead. His hand dropped to waist-height and hovered there, then slowly extended toward the button of Fraser's jeans. "Can I?" he asked, belatedly.

"Please -- please do," managed Fraser. Ray slid Fraser's button open and eased Fraser's zipper down gently, stopping halfway through.

"Ray?" Fraser asked, uncertain.

Ray swallowed visibly and pulled the little tab all the way down. The crisp white of Fraser's boxers showed through the narrow open strip. Ray laid his hand flat over the ridge straining beneath the fabric, and inhaled sharply through his nose. The light pressure sent an unholy rush through Fraser, who did his utmost to keep himself unthreateningly still. He largely succeeded in his efforts, although the flesh under Ray's palm twitched encouragingly.

Ray lifted his gaze to meet Fraser's, mouth frozen in an "O" of wonder.

Fraser reached out and traced Ray's lip with a fingertip. Ray closed his eyes, his eyelashes resting against the flushed skin of his cheeks, and his momentary hesitancy seemed to be gone for good when he sucked Fraser's finger into the warm cavern of his mouth. Fraser's cock surged under Ray's hand, and Ray smiled around Fraser's finger. He slid wetly up and down the length of it, eyes still closed, and Fraser felt a tug in his gut that reminded him of freefall. Ray gripped Fraser through his shorts with more confidence, and moved his hand in time with the rhythm of his sucking.

Fraser bore the attack on his senses as stoically as he could. His free hand clutched Ray's thigh spasmodically, and a helpless squeeze caused Ray to squeak and squirm and drop Fraser's finger from his mouth. Ray looked slightly sheepish. "Sorry, uh, kind of sensitive there," he explained.

Fraser cleared his throat but his voice still sounded rather choked when he assured Ray, "Not a problem."

Ray buried his nose briefly in Fraser's hair and clutched him close for a moment, then clambered off of him. Standing, he quickly undid his khakis and in one economical motion shoved pants and briefs down his thighs. Fraser curled his hands into fists and felt his nails digging into the heels of his palms. Ray was almost glowing in the dim light, which caught and reflected off the lighter hairs on his head and arms, and chest, and ... groin. Ray's cock curved upward, blatant with arousal. Ray followed his gaze and smirked down at Fraser, looking half-proud and half-embarrassed. He grabbed onto one tightly-clutched fist and pulled Fraser to his feet. Fraser unclenched his hands and reached out for Ray as Ray tugged him up against his body.

He savored the feel of Ray pressed against him, bare almost to the knee. Fraser's jeans were tight enough to stay up, even undone as they were, so he simply leaned into Ray and walked him a short step backward against the wall. The movement caused them to rub up against each other as they traveled, and by the time Fraser had Ray where he wanted him, he was unable to stop grinding into him. He dropped his head against Ray's and took a shuddering breath, left hand scrabbling for purchase until his fingertips caught in the cross-shaped holes in the screened window in the connecting wall.

Ray halted Fraser with a palm against the center of his chest. Fraser lifted his head, suddenly terrified that Ray was going to ask him to stop. "Have to see you," Ray gasped, and, desperately relieved, Fraser pushed his jeans to his knees. Ray slid his fingers under the waistband of Fraser's shorts, and Fraser helped him pull the fabric out and down.

"God," Ray said, stroking Fraser's length, and Fraser's hips jerked forward as he pushed into Ray's hand. He carded his fingers through the curls at the base of Ray's cock, then slid his hand up and around Ray's shaft, pulling it against his own. His eyes fell shut at the blissful sensation of soft hardness straining against soft hardness. When he reopened his eyes, he realized the world was an entirely different place than he'd thought it was; apparently there was room for his own joy, embodied by an almost-naked Ray Kowalski rubbing up against him and stroking him off.

Almost blindsided by a surge of possessive desire, Fraser thrust against his partner with increasing desperation. Ray responded beautifully, letting his head fall back against the supporting wall and abandoning his grasp on Fraser's penis to clutch at his shoulders. Ray's eyes were half-shut -- slitted, really -- and focused upon him with a sensual heat that countered his own abandon even as it inflamed him further. Fraser had to release Ray's shaft to grab onto his hip and pull him closer. Ray let out a hum of pleasure as their erections slid into perfect placement next to each other.

Lost in the hot slide of sweaty skin against skin, Fraser pressed his other hand harder into the separating screen, welcoming the distracting bite of the cutouts on the pads of his fingertips. He ducked his head to lick at the damp skin above Ray's collarbone, and chased the salty taste to the base of Ray's neck. The scrabble of nails on his back he got in response prompted him to bite down without thought.

Ray uttered a keening moan that raised the hairs on Fraser's arms and divested him of any remaining control.

Fraser swallowed the vestiges of the sound and pushed his tongue into Ray's mouth as he drove against Ray's body with singular purpose. His grip on Ray's hips and the press of his body limited Ray's movement, but Ray rocked as much as he could into Fraser's thrusts with a desperate rhythm of his own. Fraser kissed Ray harder and rode the body straining against his. Waves of pleasure assailed him until the gathering sensations crested in a moment of suspended tension. Somehow, it was the feel of Ray's tongue tracing his palate that unbalanced him. He pulled away from Ray's mouth as he ejaculated onto his stomach, watching the white fluid spurt onto his partner's skin with a gasp of satisfaction.

"Fucking Christ!" Ray slapped a hand over his own mouth, then rotated it and bit his knuckle. He squeezed his eyes shut and hitched forward, brushing up against Fraser's abdomen with what had to be a frustrating lack of pressure.

Fraser dropped the hand braced against the partition and went to his knees, barely noticing as his thigh banged against the edge of the bench. He inched forward, determined to give Ray an equal amount of pleasure. The scent of Ray's musk and his own release had his mouth watering as he adjusted his grasp on Ray's hips and leaned in to lick his stomach clean. Then he tongued an experimental swipe over the head of Ray's cock. Ray let out an encouragingly ragged breath, so Fraser slipped his lips around it and eased down the solid length, mimicking Ray's earlier assault on his finger. He sucked his way up and down steadily, savoring the taste and weight of Ray as he moved.

"Gonna come -- Fraser," Ray whispered in urgent warning. Fraser tightened his grip on Ray's hip and pressed his tongue against the captured flesh in his mouth, causing Ray to choke off an exclamation and jerk abortively under his hands. Fraser felt a twitching pulse against the roof of his mouth and was rewarded with a slippery burst of warm saltiness. He heard the distant thud of Ray's head falling back against the wall echo above him. Swallowing the evidence of Ray's satisfaction, he was overcome by an uncomplicated rush of sexual pride. He licked until the last traces were gone, wanting to linger, until Ray tugged insistently at his shoulder.

He straightened and stood with a surprising amount of difficulty, leaning thankfully into the welcoming circle of Ray's bare arms. "That was amazing," Ray murmured reverently into his ear.

"Yes, it was," Fraser agreed, and gave him a leisurely kiss. Slowly, Fraser became aware of the uncomfortable tangle of clothing around his thighs. He released Ray's mouth and awkwardly set about reassembling his shorts and jeans. Ray laughed quietly at him and hiked his own pants and underwear up, taking a stumbling step over to sink heavily onto the small bench. Fraser watched as he went bonelessly langorous by degrees. He couldn't help but appreciate the way satiation suited his partner, who blinked dazedly up at him.

Fraser crouched in front of Ray and didn't even try to mask his admiration.

Ray quirked a smile at him -- one of those effortless, radiant smiles -- and ran his hand through his sweat-darkened hair. "So," he said. "You really did mean it, huh."

"Yes, Ray."

"Not hypothetically."

"No, Ray."

"Good," said Ray affectionately, as he slowly stood up and zipped his pants. "Toss me my shirt, wouldja?"

There were a few moments of clumsy maneuvering as they dealt with the logistics of sharp elbows in a confined space, but eventually they were both fully clothed. Fraser took over Ray's spot on the bench as Ray wriggled into his holster.

Now that they were both dressed and reasonably presentable, Fraser had a moment's worry about what would happen next. Or, rather, he did until Ray sat down on the seat with him -- which was narrow enough that there was not enough room even for Ray's slim hips to fit next to his own. Hitched largely onto Fraser's lap, Ray leaned against him and sighed contentedly.

Fraser wallowed in the physical closeness. Ray smelled like sex and clean perspiration, and Fraser happily tucked his nose in the nape of his neck. "We may have to wait here for quite a while before we can be certain the way is clear," Fraser mumbled against Ray's skin.

"Sounds good to me," Ray said, pressing back against Fraser's mouth. "I've got nowhere else I'd rather be."

"You know," Fraser mused quietly into Ray's neck, running his hands down his sides, "as long as we're here, I have a few questions I'd like answers to, myself..." Ray shook with silent laughter as he twisted around and thumped Fraser on the shoulder.

"Hey, don't mock me. It worked, didn't it?"

Fraser kissed him in reply and wondered if there was patron saint of confessions he could thank.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

pearl-o.livejournal.com

Mmmm, I'm so glad you got this done. It's yummy.

I especially like this part:

Ray froze, seemingly immobilized by Fraser's loose grip.

Fraser didn't know why such a light touch would have such a profound effect; Ray appeared to be fascinated by Fraser's fingers on his wrist.

and:

When he reopened his eyes, he realized the world was an entirely different place than he'd thought it was; apparently there was room for his own joy, embodied by an almost-naked Ray Kowalski rubbing up against him and stroking him off.

Mmmmmm.

From:

Amnesty -- public sex

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