"Items Fraser Carries" challenge response

[lynnmonster.livejournal.com]

Thank you, whitepuppy, for creating such a wonderful list!

Thanks My abject devotion goes out to brooklinegirl for her super-insightful beta.

Here's some F/K, NC-17, post-"Ladies' Man" kink.


Exigencies

The straps of Fraser's Sam Browne dug into Ray's upper arms, binding them tight against his sides. Fraser had wrapped the leather bands kind of criss-crossed narrowly over Ray's chest and back, and buckled them snugly together somewhere he couldn't see. Ray was pretty sure this wasn't how they were supposed to go.

He would have plucked at them, to test their strength, but even with the little bit of slide the sweat on his bare skin added, pretty much all he could do was bend his elbows and feel along the out-facing sides with his fingertips.

Besides, right now his hands were busy, palms awkwardly braced against his living room wall.

"Fraser, I --"

"Ray," Fraser cut him off. He pulled at one of the straps, and Ray's position was adjusted slightly.

Ray looked back over his shoulder. "No, really, Fraser, I ... aahhhhh,"

Fraser licked a straight line up the back of Ray's neck, and Ray gave in, letting his head fall forward. Fraser's strong hands were holding tight to his elbows, holding him in place, holding him still, and Ray blew out a breath and pressed his forehead to the wall.

A quick squeeze-and-pat to his elbows, and Fraser was reaching around Ray's sides, like a hug from behind. He fumbled with Ray's belt buckle until it released with a clink, then unbuttoned Ray's jeans and pulled them down, stripping them off over his bare feet. Ray shifted as prompted and focused on the cracked white paint in front of his eyes.

He didn't look down at all when his shorts went the way of his jeans.

Drive home, Ray, Fraser had said. He'd been looking Ray right in the eye when he said it, staring at him like he was trying to convey something really serious. Ray hadn't been entirely sure what, exactly, he was meant to understand, but Fraser's hand had been warm and reassuring on his neck, and Fraser's face had looked kind of fond and sad, so Ray did as he said and didn't ask any questions. He'd wiped his eyes and started the car and driven them both back to his place, grateful that Fraser hadn't taken his hand away.

Fraser's hand was back on his neck again, now, with the same comforting warmth from earlier, and Ray wondered how that could feel just the same as before when everything else was completely different.

"Just a moment longer, Ray," Fraser said, and touch was replaced by sound as Fraser's warmth disappeared and he heard the rustle of Fraser stepping out of his clothes.

Then Fraser's body was blanketing Ray from shoulder to hip, skin to skin. Ray pressed back a little, but Fraser didn't feel like he was hard, and Ray wasn't particularly, either.

What the fuck were they doing? Maybe the plan was to cheer him up by obliterating grief and betrayal with overwhelming embarrassment.

Ray sighed in defeat. "Listen, I uh, I really appreciate this and all --" and how weird was that? "but I gotta tell you, I don't think --"

"Don't," Fraser said, right into Ray's ear. "Don't think." The feel of Fraser's rumbly voice against his ear and against his back sent a shiver through Ray. Maybe he was a little turned on, after all.

Fraser's hand skidded around and down to pet him, and Ray felt his dick lengthening and swelling against Fraser's palm. A little noise escaped the back of his throat and he rocked his hips forward. Oh, god. Fraser was actually touching his dick, which was mind-blowing enough, but the way he was moving his hand... Ray would probably be more embarrassed if he wasn't already lost in how incredibly good everything suddenly felt.

"That's it," Fraser said, stroking him. "That's it."

Ray wasn't entirely sure what the stupid straps were supposed to achieve, now, other than frustrating him when he wanted to reach back and touch Fraser behind him, but he shook off the annoyance in favor of rocking into Fraser's strokes and then against them when they weren't fast enough, getting harder and hotter and hornier with every thrust. Fraser dragged his lips across Ray's shoulder blade and wrapped his other arm around Ray's waist. He finally, finally sped up his strokes and he clutched Ray tight, kept him still, with one arm wrapped around Ray's front and his angled hip pushing into Ray from behind. Ray felt something build up inside him as his body cried out for him to move while his hips were immobilized and his arms were locked down and he was forced to accept whatever pace Fraser set. A fresh prickle of sweat broke over his brow.

Ray said "mmph" and twisted against Fraser's arm -- this almost-but-not-quite-enough was going to kill him. He just needed a little more, just a little, was that so much to ask? His whole body was primed to explode.

Fraser was kind of gnawing at the corner of Ray's neck, and Ray could feel Fraser's cock brushing distractingly up against the back of his thigh, now -- so, good, great, he was into this, too, but Ray really needed something other than just -- oh god -- Fraser's thumb rubbing back and forth over the head of his dick.

A hard-won lurch forward pushed him through Fraser's circled fingers, and Fraser chuckled against his neck and thank fucking christ started to jerk him like he wanted to make him come.

"Fuck -- you fucker --" Ray gasped, as the pleasure built and built, never quite peaking. Godfuckingdammit, he was close, he was so close -- he could hardly breathe, maybe if he held his breath -- and then Fraser hit the perfect, perfect pace, and Ray was riding a wave of bliss as Fraser's hand moved fast and sure, pulling Ray's orgasm out of him like he owned Ray's cock.

Ray slumped back against Fraser's solid presence behind him, still twinging with aftershocks and gulping for air. Wrecked. He was totally wrecked. Fraser pushed up against him a little, rubbing his dick against Ray's ass, and Ray hummed tiredly in response, feeling oxygen-deprived and boneless and tingling all over.

Fraser didn't let him wallow, though, and shuffle-walked him a few steps, supporting him a little, until they were standing behind the couch. He pressed down between Ray's shoulders, urging him to bend forward over the back of it, and Ray complied without a thought. Fraser disappeared into the bathroom. He came back with something -- Ray heard a cap flipping open and a squirting noise -- and then Fraser tossed the bottle onto the couch cushions.

Ray chuckled. It made the leather around his arms feel tight. "You know where I keep my lube, Fraser?"

"I pay attention," Fraser said from behind him.

"You're nosy," Ray told him, twisting his head to look up at Fraser.

"Interested," Fraser said.

"Oh, yeah?" Ray asked, momentarily derailed.

"Very much so," Fraser said, and gripped Ray's shoulder hard. "Very much indeed."

"Nosy," Ray declared, dropping his head into the cushion and burying a smile.

"As you say," Fraser agreed.

Ray's blood was all rushing to his head, in his odd position draped over the back of the couch, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for Fraser to do something.

"This is all right, Ray?" Fraser asked quietly.

"Yeah, yeah, go for it," Ray said.

Fraser took him at his word. A dry hand cupped Ray's hip and slick fingers slid down the line of his tailbone. Ray shivered as they circled, teasing and shooting sparks up his spine at the all-but-forgotten sensation.

Fraser's feet nudged Ray's further apart, and he moved up against him, fitting his legs between Ray's. His fingers slowed and one dipped inside, past the tight opening, and Ray bit the cushion. God, he'd forgotten how intense this was.

He went to push himself up with his hands, but, dammit, he couldn't spread his arms enough to get them over the top of the couch; they were effectively stuck over the back of it. He clenched them into fists instead as Fraser pushed another finger into him.

God. God. God. He had no arms, no leverage, nowhere to go, and Fraser's fingers were fucking relentless. He strained against the bindings, knowing it was useless, and bit back a cry as Fraser opened him up some more. God, this wasn't a game, this was deadly fucking serious, and Fraser was driving into his ass with his big fingers and it felt incredible.

Ray humped up against the couch a little and then pressed back onto Fraser's hand.

"Do it, Fraser, come on, do it, do it," he chanted. Fraser's hand stilled. "Do it," he said.

"I wasn't -- I didn't -- Ah. Do you have any prophylactics?"

"Haven't needed any condoms in a long time, Fraser. Please. Just do it. Please."

Fraser pulled his fingers out slowly, and Ray twitched at the sensation. Fraser picked up the bottle and squeezed out some more, dropping the bottle on the floor when he was done. Ray heard him take a hissing breath as he slicked himself.

Ray's heart was pounding like he'd been running a race. He was going to get it. Fraser -- Fraser -- was going to fuck him. Fraser pushed his fingers back inside of Ray, a little too fast, and Ray flinched. Fraser moved them around nice and slow for a moment, relaxing him, then pulled them back out again. The head of his cock brushed up against Ray's asshole and Fraser asked, "All right?"

"Yes, dammit," Ray bit out, and waited. Fraser slowly, slowly, pushed inside, and Ray felt like telling him that was just making it worse, making him feel every fraction of an inch. He kept quiet, though, until Fraser was all the way inside, huffing out breaths, draped against Ray's back, chest heaving against him. "Oh, god," Ray said.

"Ray," Fraser said, and started to move.

Ray had been fucked before, but he'd never been turned inside-out. Slowly at first, then faster, hitting him in that spot and making him see sparks, Fraser pushed his way in and in and in. Ray felt fucking branded, like he was being reshaped from the inside.

Fraser sucked this skin on his jaw -- right where Sam had patted him in the warehouse -- and the skin beneath Fraser's lips felt raw and new. Suddenly, it hurt, everything hurt so bad, and the shock of pain became his entire world for a moment.

Ray twisted his head, biting his lip, squinching his eyes shut to keep tears from leaking out. But somehow Fraser knew. He was still moving inside of Ray, but slower, and he wrapped one hand around Ray's reawakening dick.

"Oh, Ray," Fraser said, his voice so fucking tender that Ray almost barked out a desperate laugh. That was enough. He gave up, he gave in, and screwed himself back onto Fraser as hard as he could.

Fraser took his cue and thrust harder and gripped him tighter, stripping Ray's cock and pounding him from the inside. Ray would swear he could feel Fraser getting bigger, before he stilled and clutched Ray's hip tight and came, shuddering against him.

Thank god for Fraser's multitasking skills, because the hand on Ray's dick never paused, and he was gasping and panting, about to come again. He could still feel Fraser inside him when his dick twitched and he realized Fraser really fucking loved him and he came all over the upholstery.

Ray slumped forward even more, if that was possible, and all the muscles he'd been unconsciously straining against the leather straps finally relaxed. "Thank you," he gasped, hardly knowing what he was saying, "thank you, thank you, thank you."

Fraser kissed his neck before resting his head against Ray's back for a fleeting moment, sliding out of him carefully. Then he hauled Ray back up and they both sank to the floor, wiped out. Fraser fumbled the buckles of his unconventionally-assembled Sam Browne open, and rubbed his fingers over the red marks left by the straps. Ray rubbed his hands together, shaking off the pins and needles. Fraser's hands slid down Ray's arms to chafe at his wrists and hands.

"Are you all right?" Fraser asked, concerned. Ray grunted and pushed Fraser's hands away to shake his hands in the air until the tingling was gone. When his arms were more or less back to normal, he let them drop. He glanced over at Fraser, who was watching him closely. Ray lifted his head just as Fraser bent his own, and their first kiss was warm and wet and wonderful.

Ray settled in and kissed Fraser some more, finally getting to touch. He ran his hands over Fraser's chest and shoulders and face, and buried his fingers in Fraser's hair to keep him close when it felt like Fraser was going to pull away.

Eventually, though, Ray realized they had to stop kissing. For a while, anyway, he amended.

He didn't know what he was going to say until he took a good look at Fraser, when the first thing that popped out of his mouth was, "Why do you look so sad?"

Fraser ran his thumb over his eyebrow, and Ray immediately thought uh-oh. But Fraser surprised him by not needing any further prompting.

"I suppose I just -- when I allowed myself to imagine -- I would have hoped for more joyous circumstances for this, that's all. I can hardly believe that I, well -- especially since we've never --"

Ray interrupted him. "Fraser, it's been weird with us since day one. Why should this be any different?"

"Point taken," said Fraser.

Ray stood up and dragged Fraser along with him. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Fraser hesitated.

Ray turned back around. He threaded his fingers through Fraser's and lifted their joined hands. He looked down, running a fingertip over the bumps of their knuckles, mine, his, mine, his, mine.

"Look, I don't know --" he started, still looking down. "-- I don't know, I mean, today was -- damn. What I mean is, I would really," and he took a deep, unsteady breath, but he kept on going, "really, really like you to stay."

"Of course, Ray," Fraser said softly. "Whatever you need."