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ds_flashfiction2004-09-28 04:12 pm
brynwulf) wrote in ds_flashfiction2004-09-28 04:12 pm
Entry tags:
Virtuous Vice
Cause Ces told me to. After more than two years of silence, I'm trying to regain my Fraser voice and here is some of the dS I threatened you with promised. Thanks for all the encouragement.
Neither its people, its weather, nor its temptations.
It made him question things. But only in the privacy of his tiny, quiet office, late at night when the consulate was quiet and he was assured his secrets were safe.
He questioned things he’d been taught. Things that had sometimes been beat into him with a switch cut by his own hand. It brought some small amusement to know that his hard won virtuousness now served as such a handy shielding device from the rest of the world.
Ray all but called him a saint, but Fraser very much doubted the saints he’d read of indulged in such narcissist behavior as had been his habit of late. And now he was afraid. His veneer of prudence was in danger and he could no longer remember why exactly he was to practice “moderation in all things.”
It was unnatural to meet the force that was Ray Kowalski with moderation. And he had long ago passed the point of moderately finding Ray attractive. But to give into that particular temptation led only down the road to excess. An excess of pain he just as soon avoid.
He would gird himself in sufferance. He would subdue the desire to lick Ray’s bare neck, to kiss his cocky mouth hard and long, and then push him to his knees, pulling Ray’s head between his legs, begging him to answer all of his prayers with a second stroke of his tongue. He would moderate all of that into partnership and camaraderie. Prudence would be his constant companion.
Oh God, how he wanted to sin.
Neither its people, its weather, nor its temptations.
It made him question things. But only in the privacy of his tiny, quiet office, late at night when the consulate was quiet and he was assured his secrets were safe.
He questioned things he’d been taught. Things that had sometimes been beat into him with a switch cut by his own hand. It brought some small amusement to know that his hard won virtuousness now served as such a handy shielding device from the rest of the world.
Ray all but called him a saint, but Fraser very much doubted the saints he’d read of indulged in such narcissist behavior as had been his habit of late. And now he was afraid. His veneer of prudence was in danger and he could no longer remember why exactly he was to practice “moderation in all things.”
It was unnatural to meet the force that was Ray Kowalski with moderation. And he had long ago passed the point of moderately finding Ray attractive. But to give into that particular temptation led only down the road to excess. An excess of pain he just as soon avoid.
He would gird himself in sufferance. He would subdue the desire to lick Ray’s bare neck, to kiss his cocky mouth hard and long, and then push him to his knees, pulling Ray’s head between his legs, begging him to answer all of his prayers with a second stroke of his tongue. He would moderate all of that into partnership and camaraderie. Prudence would be his constant companion.
Oh God, how he wanted to sin.
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Fabulous.
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