sweat challenge by take_no_ko
Jul. 19th, 2005 03:03 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
take-no-ko.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionTitle: Guiltily
Author: take_no_ko
Pairing: Fraser/Ray K.
Rating: PG-13/R. Or something. I'm not too sure 'bout US ratings.
Words: 1185
Summary: Smell is the most feral sense.
Notes: This contains descriptions of people smelling things that maybe they shouldn't. But it's slightly smutty, so read on! Hoorah.
It's come to my attention that both of my stories so far on the community mention underwear. Damn, my secret fetish is no longer secret. :|
It's late, I know, but the challenge hasn't been called yet, so I hope you forgive me. It's also un-beta-ed, for which I appologise. Enjoy. :)
Guiltily, and with no small amount of trepidation, Fraser opened the cardboard box under his bed. He was a thief, he realised, a criminal. He looked around for the sixth time in 2 minutes, and saw nothing. Just the room, the curtains closed, Diefenbaker asleep in the bathroom. He was alone with the box.
Taking a shuddering breath, he looked down. It was an old shoe box, green on the outside, which lived under his bed. The elastic band that held it closed to Dief's inquisitive nose lay on the floor, neatly placed in the up-turned lid. And inside... Fraser felt his heart beat a little faster. Stop it, he thought to himself. This is wrong. You're wrong.
He picked up the first thing in the box. It was a grey piece of cloth, crumpled and squashed. It was Ray's t-shirt.
It'd been a hot day and when Ray had invited him back to his apartment for something to drink, he'd accepted. Ray had grabbed him a bottle of water before heading for a shower and Fraser had been unable to resist the opportunity. He'd waited for around two minutes, then tiptoed into Ray's bedroom.
The bed was unmade, and there were a few clothes strewn on the floor. An empty can of beer sat on the bedside table next to a dusty glass of water and a copy of Time. Fraser quickly took in the clothes on the floor, and allowed himself a small smile when his turned to the corner.
A laundry hamper.
He opened it, wincing involuntarily at the creek that the thing made, even though he could here Ray singing in the shower. With infinite guilty pleasure, he plunged his hand into the dirty clothes, and pulled out a grey t-shirt. Underneath was something maybe even better.
Fraser put the t-shirt on the bed, and picked up the next object. It was cloth too, black, slightly worn and faded. It was a pair of Ray's boxer shorts.
He realised his face was burning and took off his plaid shirt. He shucked his jeans too, and knelt back down by the bedside in his boxers and wifebeater. His dick was pulsing and half-hard already.
He picked up the t-shirt first, taking a second to feel it with his fingers before he buried his face in it.
Ray.
It smelled of Ray, stank of him. Fraser breathed in deep, and smelled Ray. His eyes closed, he examined the mental image of his partner in every detail and imagined his naked chest moving under the shirt. He inhaled again, the warm scent with hints of bright soap and dull smoke and the bass, dull, perfect smell of Ray's sweat.
Ray.
He put it down, grinning like an idiot, with guilt and pleasure running through him. He rested his head on the shirt, lying on the bed. He thought briefly about what it would be like to lie against Ray, to feel the shirt over the skin and muscle and bone, to hear the warm heartbeat, to feel fingers in his hair...
He stopped himself thinking too hard, and raised his head. There were still the boxers. He grinned again, in a way that would’ve shocked any of his police or consulate colleagues, and picked them up. Feeling uncomfortably like a teenager, he rubbed the cloth against his cheek, then, holding it in one hand, ran his hand down the crotch. The soft cloth was slightly worn from use. Fraser shuddered, thinking of the muscles of Ray's ass contorting and his balls gently bouncing as he walked in the boxers, and realised his dick was fully hard in his own underwear.
Fraser sniffed them. They smelt stronger, musky. He could smell the sweat and the hints of male crotch. He could smell...
Ray.
"Fraser?" Said Ray.
Ray?
Ray!
Fraser jumped, his head snapping up. He dropped the boxers and stared at Ray.
"You didn't answer when I knocked." Ray said in explanation. His face was unreadable.
"Ray, I..." Fraser felt sick. There was a hot knot in his stomach, and his throat was dry and sticky.
"S'ok, Fraser. Sorry to interrupt." He looked slightly embarrassed. "Hey," There was a look of horrible, dawning comprehension on his face. Fraser wished he could curl up and die, right there, right then. "Aren't those my boxers? I lost them a coupla weeks ago..."
"..." Said Fraser.
Ray moved closer.
"That's my shirt, too!" He said, slightly incredulous. “You’re…you have my clothes? You've been getting off on sniffing my clothes?"
Fraser was beyond mortified. His dick hung limp in his shorts. He stood up. Ray moved closer. Fraser backed away, and hit the wall.
"Fraser, why are you sniffing my clothes?"
"I... I..." Like the way you smell, Ray. Desire you, Ray. Want your ass, Ray. Really, really, want this not to happen now, Ray. Would give anything to have this not happen, Ray. Just want you to hold me. Just. "I'm sorry, Ray." He said, weakly.
Ray advanced again, so close that Raser could see the individual hairs of his eyebrows, smell his sweat...
"Fraser," He repeated. "Why are you sniffing my clothes?"
"I..." Fraser swallowed, and looked away.
"Why, Fraser?" He demanded. Fraser said nothing. Ray slammed his fist into the wall. "Why, dammit!" Fraser flinched and inwardly cringed some more.
"Because I like the way you smell, Ray." He said, very quietly. “I like... you, Ray.” He hung his head.
Ray laughed, softly.
Fraser's eyes snapped back to look at Ray. He was grinning, white teeth on display. He looked at Fraser.
"Well I like you and the way you smell too, but I didn't need to steal your boxers..."
Fraser's head was reeling.
"I...you...what?" He said. Ray didn't say anything, but slowly, experimentally, moved forward. Fraser watched him, felt Ray’s arms round his neck, felt his hands go round the other’s back. Ray leaned in, and kissed him, and his stubbly face pressed against Fraser’s own.
Fraser stiffened involuntarily, then, his mind catching up with his body, relaxed. His tongue was licking Ray’s lip. His tongue was touching Ray’s. His dick was hardening. It was so warm and wet and good that he could feel his brain clouding up.
Ray broke the kiss.
"Fraser…" He said softly, looking at him, hands moving up into the Mountie’s hair. "…you’re hard." He was grinning. Fraser blushed. Ray laughed, and Fraser caught a whiff of his scent. He couldn’t help it, the temptation was too much. He buried his face in Ray’s neck, surrounded by the scent.
"Ray..." He breathed. "Ray, you smell so good..."
In between Ray’s soft laughter and Fraser’s fumblings, they each managed to get the other’s clothes off, and later, necks bitten and bruised, faces sweaty, they lay, glowing, in the bed.
Ray had positioned himself on Fraser’s chest, eyes closed in pleasure, one hand splayed across Fraser’s left pectoral. Fraser was stroking his hair, idly, enjoying the sensation of not having to think anything.
"Hey, Fraser…" Ray said, sleepily.
"Hmm?"
"Next time you want some of my underwear, just ask."
Author: take_no_ko
Pairing: Fraser/Ray K.
Rating: PG-13/R. Or something. I'm not too sure 'bout US ratings.
Words: 1185
Summary: Smell is the most feral sense.
Notes: This contains descriptions of people smelling things that maybe they shouldn't. But it's slightly smutty, so read on! Hoorah.
It's come to my attention that both of my stories so far on the community mention underwear. Damn, my secret fetish is no longer secret. :|
It's late, I know, but the challenge hasn't been called yet, so I hope you forgive me. It's also un-beta-ed, for which I appologise. Enjoy. :)
Guiltily, and with no small amount of trepidation, Fraser opened the cardboard box under his bed. He was a thief, he realised, a criminal. He looked around for the sixth time in 2 minutes, and saw nothing. Just the room, the curtains closed, Diefenbaker asleep in the bathroom. He was alone with the box.
Taking a shuddering breath, he looked down. It was an old shoe box, green on the outside, which lived under his bed. The elastic band that held it closed to Dief's inquisitive nose lay on the floor, neatly placed in the up-turned lid. And inside... Fraser felt his heart beat a little faster. Stop it, he thought to himself. This is wrong. You're wrong.
He picked up the first thing in the box. It was a grey piece of cloth, crumpled and squashed. It was Ray's t-shirt.
It'd been a hot day and when Ray had invited him back to his apartment for something to drink, he'd accepted. Ray had grabbed him a bottle of water before heading for a shower and Fraser had been unable to resist the opportunity. He'd waited for around two minutes, then tiptoed into Ray's bedroom.
The bed was unmade, and there were a few clothes strewn on the floor. An empty can of beer sat on the bedside table next to a dusty glass of water and a copy of Time. Fraser quickly took in the clothes on the floor, and allowed himself a small smile when his turned to the corner.
A laundry hamper.
He opened it, wincing involuntarily at the creek that the thing made, even though he could here Ray singing in the shower. With infinite guilty pleasure, he plunged his hand into the dirty clothes, and pulled out a grey t-shirt. Underneath was something maybe even better.
Fraser put the t-shirt on the bed, and picked up the next object. It was cloth too, black, slightly worn and faded. It was a pair of Ray's boxer shorts.
He realised his face was burning and took off his plaid shirt. He shucked his jeans too, and knelt back down by the bedside in his boxers and wifebeater. His dick was pulsing and half-hard already.
He picked up the t-shirt first, taking a second to feel it with his fingers before he buried his face in it.
Ray.
It smelled of Ray, stank of him. Fraser breathed in deep, and smelled Ray. His eyes closed, he examined the mental image of his partner in every detail and imagined his naked chest moving under the shirt. He inhaled again, the warm scent with hints of bright soap and dull smoke and the bass, dull, perfect smell of Ray's sweat.
Ray.
He put it down, grinning like an idiot, with guilt and pleasure running through him. He rested his head on the shirt, lying on the bed. He thought briefly about what it would be like to lie against Ray, to feel the shirt over the skin and muscle and bone, to hear the warm heartbeat, to feel fingers in his hair...
He stopped himself thinking too hard, and raised his head. There were still the boxers. He grinned again, in a way that would’ve shocked any of his police or consulate colleagues, and picked them up. Feeling uncomfortably like a teenager, he rubbed the cloth against his cheek, then, holding it in one hand, ran his hand down the crotch. The soft cloth was slightly worn from use. Fraser shuddered, thinking of the muscles of Ray's ass contorting and his balls gently bouncing as he walked in the boxers, and realised his dick was fully hard in his own underwear.
Fraser sniffed them. They smelt stronger, musky. He could smell the sweat and the hints of male crotch. He could smell...
Ray.
"Fraser?" Said Ray.
Ray?
Ray!
Fraser jumped, his head snapping up. He dropped the boxers and stared at Ray.
"You didn't answer when I knocked." Ray said in explanation. His face was unreadable.
"Ray, I..." Fraser felt sick. There was a hot knot in his stomach, and his throat was dry and sticky.
"S'ok, Fraser. Sorry to interrupt." He looked slightly embarrassed. "Hey," There was a look of horrible, dawning comprehension on his face. Fraser wished he could curl up and die, right there, right then. "Aren't those my boxers? I lost them a coupla weeks ago..."
"..." Said Fraser.
Ray moved closer.
"That's my shirt, too!" He said, slightly incredulous. “You’re…you have my clothes? You've been getting off on sniffing my clothes?"
Fraser was beyond mortified. His dick hung limp in his shorts. He stood up. Ray moved closer. Fraser backed away, and hit the wall.
"Fraser, why are you sniffing my clothes?"
"I... I..." Like the way you smell, Ray. Desire you, Ray. Want your ass, Ray. Really, really, want this not to happen now, Ray. Would give anything to have this not happen, Ray. Just want you to hold me. Just. "I'm sorry, Ray." He said, weakly.
Ray advanced again, so close that Raser could see the individual hairs of his eyebrows, smell his sweat...
"Fraser," He repeated. "Why are you sniffing my clothes?"
"I..." Fraser swallowed, and looked away.
"Why, Fraser?" He demanded. Fraser said nothing. Ray slammed his fist into the wall. "Why, dammit!" Fraser flinched and inwardly cringed some more.
"Because I like the way you smell, Ray." He said, very quietly. “I like... you, Ray.” He hung his head.
Ray laughed, softly.
Fraser's eyes snapped back to look at Ray. He was grinning, white teeth on display. He looked at Fraser.
"Well I like you and the way you smell too, but I didn't need to steal your boxers..."
Fraser's head was reeling.
"I...you...what?" He said. Ray didn't say anything, but slowly, experimentally, moved forward. Fraser watched him, felt Ray’s arms round his neck, felt his hands go round the other’s back. Ray leaned in, and kissed him, and his stubbly face pressed against Fraser’s own.
Fraser stiffened involuntarily, then, his mind catching up with his body, relaxed. His tongue was licking Ray’s lip. His tongue was touching Ray’s. His dick was hardening. It was so warm and wet and good that he could feel his brain clouding up.
Ray broke the kiss.
"Fraser…" He said softly, looking at him, hands moving up into the Mountie’s hair. "…you’re hard." He was grinning. Fraser blushed. Ray laughed, and Fraser caught a whiff of his scent. He couldn’t help it, the temptation was too much. He buried his face in Ray’s neck, surrounded by the scent.
"Ray..." He breathed. "Ray, you smell so good..."
In between Ray’s soft laughter and Fraser’s fumblings, they each managed to get the other’s clothes off, and later, necks bitten and bruised, faces sweaty, they lay, glowing, in the bed.
Ray had positioned himself on Fraser’s chest, eyes closed in pleasure, one hand splayed across Fraser’s left pectoral. Fraser was stroking his hair, idly, enjoying the sensation of not having to think anything.
"Hey, Fraser…" Ray said, sleepily.
"Hmm?"
"Next time you want some of my underwear, just ask."
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no subject
Date: 2005-07-19 02:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-19 04:38 pm (UTC)Guiltily
Date: 2005-07-19 03:09 am (UTC)Re: Guiltily
Date: 2005-07-19 04:42 pm (UTC)