Racing under the wire
Jul. 26th, 2003 12:20 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
sihayab.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionRushing to make the deadline, as usual. Many thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chesamus for allowing me to play in her sandbox. This is an authorized sequel to her story "Learning How." Muchas gracias, Cisco!
And, yeah, I'll be posting stories under this name from now on. When I remember to. At least, that's the plan.
Lending a Hand
Ray held his breath. What the hell had made him offer to teach Fraser that?
“Thank you kindly, Ray.” Very softly. Very, very softly. “Whenever it’s convenient for you.”
“Uh.” Whenever it’s convenient? Jerking off wasn’t convenient, like microwave mac and cheese. It was a necessity, like making sure your gun was clean, or that first cup of coffee in the morning, or having a partner you could trust. Ray lowered his head and thumped it gently against the steering wheel. Jesus. “Tonight. After our relief comes. I mean—” Ray sat up, ears burning, and in the back seat Dief whuffed. Sounded just like a laugh. “Once we’re relieved.”
“Ah.”
Fraser didn’t say anything more.
Ray slouched back in his seat, squinting at the doorway where the dealer was supposedly going to meet his contact, and frowned in thought.
Okay. Need a game plan. Think of this like a training session.
Oh, yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and stifled a bark of laughter. With a white board and four colors of magic markers. He pictured himself dressed in suit and tie – better yet, a lab coat – drawing a diagram with little labels saying ‘dick,’ and ‘fingers,’ and directional arrows and formulas for strength of grip, rotation, and torque, and Fraser sitting at a school desk taking notes and raising his... hand.
Not.
Outside, maybe? Fraser’d feel more at ease there. They could find a dark, secluded spot to spread out the spare blanket he kept in the trunk, lay down side-by-side, and stare up at the stars. Ray could talk Fraser though... it, that way. Maybe he’d have to reach over, help Fraser find just the right grip...
Ray shifted quickly, keeping his eyes fixed on the doorway. Jeez, he’d never popped a boner that fast before. Not by thinking of Fraser. A deep breath, a furtive sideways glance at Fraser sitting as still as a rock an arm’s reach away.
Liar.
Back to the park. Right. Just the feel of warm fingers and a cool breeze on their dicks, a little starlight so Fraser wouldn’t be just a voice in the darkness. The drone of the city in the background, the buzz of insects, mosquitoes landing on their...
Nah. Getting too chilly for mosquitoes. Okay. Back ‘er up a step. The drone of the city, the chatter of squirrels. A chipmunk nosing through the grass for picnic leftovers, scampering over the blanket, nearsightedly mistaking Ray’s dick for a discarded kielbasa...
Forget the park.
~~ooOOoo~~
“So, Frase, want some tea? Water?” Ray clattered into the kitchen, Dief at his heels. “I think I got some milk that hasn’t learned to crawl yet.” He pulled a metal mixing bowl out of the cupboard, dumped it in the sink, and turned on the tap. Dief sat and stared at the sink, ears pricked.
“Water would be agreeable, Ray.”
He glanced over his shoulder. Fraser stood in the doorway, hands kneading the brim of his hat. His ears were pink.
Ray tore his eyes from Fraser’s pink – more crimson, really – ears, and whirled around, slamming off the taps. “Go, sit down, Frase. Take off your tunic and...” He swallowed, tongue suddenly the size of an inflating air bag. “And boots. Get... comfortable. I’ll bring your water in a sec.”
Fraser’s footsteps moved off, and Ray set the bowl of water on a dishtowel in the corner. He squatted as Dief stuck his muzzle in the bowl. “Do me a favor, Dief, and hang out in here,” he whispered as Dief lapped the water. “And you’ll get extra pizza.”
Dief lifted his head, water from his drenched fur dripping onto Ray’s trousers, and stared deep into his eyes.
“Okay.” Ray sighed. “And donuts.”
Dief turned and settled himself under the table.
Ray paused, then filled two glasses with water. Carrying them into the dim living room, he carefully didn’t look at Fraser, sitting on the sofa.
“Here you go.” Ray handed Fraser a glass. Damn, his hand shook like he had the DTs. It got even shakier when he looked at Fraser, who’d taken his suggestion to get comfortable to heart, at least as far as clothing was concerned. Henley sleeves pushed up, suspenders hanging lax at his sides, Fraser’s sock feet rested firmly on the floor, the knuckles of the fingers clutching the glass and his knee pale from the force of his grip.
Ray sighed again and lowered himself onto the sofa. “Relax, Frase. This is supposed to be fun.” He took a swig of his water, then put the glass on the coffee table.
“Of course, Ray.” Fraser mirrored his actions, then turned to Ray. Mouth thin with tension, there was something hopeful and expectant in Fraser’s eyes.
Ray forced his gaze away, busied himself kicking off his boots, shoving them under the coffee table. “Cause you’re not going to get anywhere being tense. Okay. First things first.” He shook out his hands, tilted his head side to side, rolled his shoulders. Glanced over at Fraser, eyebrow raised.
Slowly, hesitantly, Fraser shook out his hands, tilted his head side to side, rolled his shoulders. He looked fractionally less like a block of wood. Pine maybe, compared to mahogany.
“Good.” Ray stretched, brought his hands down to his belly. Pushed up his shirt and scratched right above his belt buckle. What the hell? He let his hands slide down across his growing hard on.
Fraser’s eyes widened – deer in the headlights – his gulp audible.
“So, first you gotta pick your fantasy.” Ray knew who he was going to pick. Oh, yeah. But at the sight of those scared, pleading, desperate eyes, Ray hesitated. Fraser’d probably find things easier if he wasn’t looking at Ray. “Close your eyes, shove that person right to the front of your mind and keep focused. Can you do that?”
With a nod, Fraser squeezed his eyes shut.
“Now, unzip those pumpkin pants and reach in, grab your dick, and give it a stroke.”
Ray pulled out his dick with a sigh of relief, gave it a little squeeze, just to let it know he hadn’t forgotten about it. It responded enthusiastically, and Ray grinned. This wasn’t going to take long.
Hands shaking, Fraser unzipped his trousers and reached inside. One big hand wrapped around a piece of flesh as limp as an old dishrag, and then he gasped. Not a good gasp. Not an oh-yeah-we’ve-got-the-hang-of-it gasp. No, this gasp sounded like a gasp of pain.
Fraser’s eyes flew open and his face crumpled, then immediately smoothed into his blandest expression. He glanced at Ray’s lap, flushed, and stared across the room as if the wall was going to open up and reveal the secrets of the universe.
“What’s the matter?” Ray cupped his hand over his dick. No way was it going to get jammed back inside his trousers until things were taken care of, but leaving it hanging in the breeze didn’t seem right. “Were you thinking about your fantasy?”
“Well, I was,” Fraser said, with more than a hint of bitterness, “until my Grandmother’s face replaced yo— that of my fantasy.”
Wincing, Ray reached over and gave Fraser’s shoulder a pat. “That sucks. Nothing like the thought of an old relative to kill the mood. But that’s okay. Try it again.”
Fraser nodded, shut his eyes, and tried again. And again. And again.
“Ray, I appreciate your patience.” Face flushed, hair rumpled, Fraser’s head fell back and he let out a long sigh. “But this isn’t going to work. I’ve been thoroughly conditioned, and trying to break—”
“Nah, don’t give up yet.” Ray frowned, and, because his hand was still full of dick, pumped it once. Or twice. Bit off his groan as heat rushed up his back and down his thighs. Dammit, stop doing that. That’s not—
Fraser’s eyes were on him. On his lap, actually. Fraser’s dick twitched in his lax grasp.
Ray gave his dick a squeeze, sucked in a huge lungful of air as his hips rocked on the sofa.
Fraser’s dick rose to attention almost as fast as Ray’s had done in the car earlier.
Oh.
Oh.
“I think we’re taking the wrong approach,” Ray choked out as he rubbed his thumb over the damp head of his dick. Fire raced along his nerves, followed by a chill so intense he shivered.
Fraser nodded and shivered, too, his eyes never leaving Ray’s lap. “You could be right, Ray.”
“Damn right I’m right.” Ray reached over and wrapped his free hand around Fraser’s curled fingers. Awkward, with his hand upside down and his arm twisted, but that was okay. He clenched his hand, making Fraser tighten his grip on his own dick.
Fraser moaned.
Eyes on Fraser’s face, Ray stroked himself slowly, his breath catching as Fraser’s tongue did its little slide across his lower lip and he matched Ray’s strokes.
Jesus. Better than his fantasy, better than anything his imagination could ever come up with.
“Frase.” His voice so raspy he hardly recognized it, Ray slowed his hand. “Fraser, look at me.”
Thick lashes fluttered, then blue eyes met his.
He didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to. Fraser’s gaze never wavered as Ray guided their hands, knowing instinctively the point when the tension in Fraser’s body would snap. When Fraser tumbled messily over the edge, with a groan and a breathy cry of “Rayrayray,” his eyes finally drooping shut, Ray forced himself to wait, just a few seconds, just long enough to take in the sight of Fraser coming hard, before stroking once, twice, and coming himself.
Chests heaving, they sat side-by-side, Ray’s hand still loosely clasped around Fraser’s. Ray’s whole body felt like a giant Fizzie in water, all bubbly and floating. Fraser sighed and tilted so his shoulder rested against Ray’s.
“Thank you, Ray.” His voice thready, he sank heavily against Ray’s side.
“No problem, Frase. You think you got the idea?”
Ray loosened the hand around Fraser’s, but before he could pull away, Fraser’s free hand cupped his, keeping it in place. Around Fraser’s. Around his softening dick.
“I’m...” Fraser cleared his throat. “I could use more practice, Ray. If you don’t mind.”
Ray grinned and turned his head, meeting Fraser’s open gaze, that butter-wouldn’t-melt look. The corner of Fraser’s mouth curled up about a quarter inch.
Oh, yeah, Ray had his number, now.
“Gimme a few minutes, Frase, and I’ll show you another technique.”
And he leaned forward, capturing Fraser’s mouth with a groan.
chesamus for allowing me to play in her sandbox. This is an authorized sequel to her story "Learning How." Muchas gracias, Cisco!And, yeah, I'll be posting stories under this name from now on. When I remember to. At least, that's the plan.
Lending a Hand
Ray held his breath. What the hell had made him offer to teach Fraser that?
“Thank you kindly, Ray.” Very softly. Very, very softly. “Whenever it’s convenient for you.”
“Uh.” Whenever it’s convenient? Jerking off wasn’t convenient, like microwave mac and cheese. It was a necessity, like making sure your gun was clean, or that first cup of coffee in the morning, or having a partner you could trust. Ray lowered his head and thumped it gently against the steering wheel. Jesus. “Tonight. After our relief comes. I mean—” Ray sat up, ears burning, and in the back seat Dief whuffed. Sounded just like a laugh. “Once we’re relieved.”
“Ah.”
Fraser didn’t say anything more.
Ray slouched back in his seat, squinting at the doorway where the dealer was supposedly going to meet his contact, and frowned in thought.
Okay. Need a game plan. Think of this like a training session.
Oh, yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and stifled a bark of laughter. With a white board and four colors of magic markers. He pictured himself dressed in suit and tie – better yet, a lab coat – drawing a diagram with little labels saying ‘dick,’ and ‘fingers,’ and directional arrows and formulas for strength of grip, rotation, and torque, and Fraser sitting at a school desk taking notes and raising his... hand.
Not.
Outside, maybe? Fraser’d feel more at ease there. They could find a dark, secluded spot to spread out the spare blanket he kept in the trunk, lay down side-by-side, and stare up at the stars. Ray could talk Fraser though... it, that way. Maybe he’d have to reach over, help Fraser find just the right grip...
Ray shifted quickly, keeping his eyes fixed on the doorway. Jeez, he’d never popped a boner that fast before. Not by thinking of Fraser. A deep breath, a furtive sideways glance at Fraser sitting as still as a rock an arm’s reach away.
Liar.
Back to the park. Right. Just the feel of warm fingers and a cool breeze on their dicks, a little starlight so Fraser wouldn’t be just a voice in the darkness. The drone of the city in the background, the buzz of insects, mosquitoes landing on their...
Nah. Getting too chilly for mosquitoes. Okay. Back ‘er up a step. The drone of the city, the chatter of squirrels. A chipmunk nosing through the grass for picnic leftovers, scampering over the blanket, nearsightedly mistaking Ray’s dick for a discarded kielbasa...
Forget the park.
~~ooOOoo~~
“So, Frase, want some tea? Water?” Ray clattered into the kitchen, Dief at his heels. “I think I got some milk that hasn’t learned to crawl yet.” He pulled a metal mixing bowl out of the cupboard, dumped it in the sink, and turned on the tap. Dief sat and stared at the sink, ears pricked.
“Water would be agreeable, Ray.”
He glanced over his shoulder. Fraser stood in the doorway, hands kneading the brim of his hat. His ears were pink.
Ray tore his eyes from Fraser’s pink – more crimson, really – ears, and whirled around, slamming off the taps. “Go, sit down, Frase. Take off your tunic and...” He swallowed, tongue suddenly the size of an inflating air bag. “And boots. Get... comfortable. I’ll bring your water in a sec.”
Fraser’s footsteps moved off, and Ray set the bowl of water on a dishtowel in the corner. He squatted as Dief stuck his muzzle in the bowl. “Do me a favor, Dief, and hang out in here,” he whispered as Dief lapped the water. “And you’ll get extra pizza.”
Dief lifted his head, water from his drenched fur dripping onto Ray’s trousers, and stared deep into his eyes.
“Okay.” Ray sighed. “And donuts.”
Dief turned and settled himself under the table.
Ray paused, then filled two glasses with water. Carrying them into the dim living room, he carefully didn’t look at Fraser, sitting on the sofa.
“Here you go.” Ray handed Fraser a glass. Damn, his hand shook like he had the DTs. It got even shakier when he looked at Fraser, who’d taken his suggestion to get comfortable to heart, at least as far as clothing was concerned. Henley sleeves pushed up, suspenders hanging lax at his sides, Fraser’s sock feet rested firmly on the floor, the knuckles of the fingers clutching the glass and his knee pale from the force of his grip.
Ray sighed again and lowered himself onto the sofa. “Relax, Frase. This is supposed to be fun.” He took a swig of his water, then put the glass on the coffee table.
“Of course, Ray.” Fraser mirrored his actions, then turned to Ray. Mouth thin with tension, there was something hopeful and expectant in Fraser’s eyes.
Ray forced his gaze away, busied himself kicking off his boots, shoving them under the coffee table. “Cause you’re not going to get anywhere being tense. Okay. First things first.” He shook out his hands, tilted his head side to side, rolled his shoulders. Glanced over at Fraser, eyebrow raised.
Slowly, hesitantly, Fraser shook out his hands, tilted his head side to side, rolled his shoulders. He looked fractionally less like a block of wood. Pine maybe, compared to mahogany.
“Good.” Ray stretched, brought his hands down to his belly. Pushed up his shirt and scratched right above his belt buckle. What the hell? He let his hands slide down across his growing hard on.
Fraser’s eyes widened – deer in the headlights – his gulp audible.
“So, first you gotta pick your fantasy.” Ray knew who he was going to pick. Oh, yeah. But at the sight of those scared, pleading, desperate eyes, Ray hesitated. Fraser’d probably find things easier if he wasn’t looking at Ray. “Close your eyes, shove that person right to the front of your mind and keep focused. Can you do that?”
With a nod, Fraser squeezed his eyes shut.
“Now, unzip those pumpkin pants and reach in, grab your dick, and give it a stroke.”
Ray pulled out his dick with a sigh of relief, gave it a little squeeze, just to let it know he hadn’t forgotten about it. It responded enthusiastically, and Ray grinned. This wasn’t going to take long.
Hands shaking, Fraser unzipped his trousers and reached inside. One big hand wrapped around a piece of flesh as limp as an old dishrag, and then he gasped. Not a good gasp. Not an oh-yeah-we’ve-got-the-hang-of-it gasp. No, this gasp sounded like a gasp of pain.
Fraser’s eyes flew open and his face crumpled, then immediately smoothed into his blandest expression. He glanced at Ray’s lap, flushed, and stared across the room as if the wall was going to open up and reveal the secrets of the universe.
“What’s the matter?” Ray cupped his hand over his dick. No way was it going to get jammed back inside his trousers until things were taken care of, but leaving it hanging in the breeze didn’t seem right. “Were you thinking about your fantasy?”
“Well, I was,” Fraser said, with more than a hint of bitterness, “until my Grandmother’s face replaced yo— that of my fantasy.”
Wincing, Ray reached over and gave Fraser’s shoulder a pat. “That sucks. Nothing like the thought of an old relative to kill the mood. But that’s okay. Try it again.”
Fraser nodded, shut his eyes, and tried again. And again. And again.
“Ray, I appreciate your patience.” Face flushed, hair rumpled, Fraser’s head fell back and he let out a long sigh. “But this isn’t going to work. I’ve been thoroughly conditioned, and trying to break—”
“Nah, don’t give up yet.” Ray frowned, and, because his hand was still full of dick, pumped it once. Or twice. Bit off his groan as heat rushed up his back and down his thighs. Dammit, stop doing that. That’s not—
Fraser’s eyes were on him. On his lap, actually. Fraser’s dick twitched in his lax grasp.
Ray gave his dick a squeeze, sucked in a huge lungful of air as his hips rocked on the sofa.
Fraser’s dick rose to attention almost as fast as Ray’s had done in the car earlier.
Oh.
Oh.
“I think we’re taking the wrong approach,” Ray choked out as he rubbed his thumb over the damp head of his dick. Fire raced along his nerves, followed by a chill so intense he shivered.
Fraser nodded and shivered, too, his eyes never leaving Ray’s lap. “You could be right, Ray.”
“Damn right I’m right.” Ray reached over and wrapped his free hand around Fraser’s curled fingers. Awkward, with his hand upside down and his arm twisted, but that was okay. He clenched his hand, making Fraser tighten his grip on his own dick.
Fraser moaned.
Eyes on Fraser’s face, Ray stroked himself slowly, his breath catching as Fraser’s tongue did its little slide across his lower lip and he matched Ray’s strokes.
Jesus. Better than his fantasy, better than anything his imagination could ever come up with.
“Frase.” His voice so raspy he hardly recognized it, Ray slowed his hand. “Fraser, look at me.”
Thick lashes fluttered, then blue eyes met his.
He didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to. Fraser’s gaze never wavered as Ray guided their hands, knowing instinctively the point when the tension in Fraser’s body would snap. When Fraser tumbled messily over the edge, with a groan and a breathy cry of “Rayrayray,” his eyes finally drooping shut, Ray forced himself to wait, just a few seconds, just long enough to take in the sight of Fraser coming hard, before stroking once, twice, and coming himself.
Chests heaving, they sat side-by-side, Ray’s hand still loosely clasped around Fraser’s. Ray’s whole body felt like a giant Fizzie in water, all bubbly and floating. Fraser sighed and tilted so his shoulder rested against Ray’s.
“Thank you, Ray.” His voice thready, he sank heavily against Ray’s side.
“No problem, Frase. You think you got the idea?”
Ray loosened the hand around Fraser’s, but before he could pull away, Fraser’s free hand cupped his, keeping it in place. Around Fraser’s. Around his softening dick.
“I’m...” Fraser cleared his throat. “I could use more practice, Ray. If you don’t mind.”
Ray grinned and turned his head, meeting Fraser’s open gaze, that butter-wouldn’t-melt look. The corner of Fraser’s mouth curled up about a quarter inch.
Oh, yeah, Ray had his number, now.
“Gimme a few minutes, Frase, and I’ll show you another technique.”
And he leaned forward, capturing Fraser’s mouth with a groan.
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no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 04:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 08:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 04:42 pm (UTC)With a white board and four colors of magic markers. He pictured himself dressed in suit and tie – better yet, a lab coat – drawing a diagram with little labels saying ‘dick,’ and ‘fingers,’ and directional arrows and formulas for strength of grip, rotation, and torque, and Fraser sitting at a school desk taking notes and raising his... hand.
Which just makes me laugh my *ass* off.
And then--
*GUH*.
Jesus, woman. I don't care which name you're using, you are incredible!
*smootch*
no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 08:49 pm (UTC)::mwah::
no subject
Date: 2003-07-27 04:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 04:45 pm (UTC)Just a happy, happy girl here. Happy, happy. I'd give you a hand but you seem to have plenty and know just what to do with them.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 08:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 04:50 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you worked your way through this because I just couldn't gethere! I told you this thing had a mind of it's own.
Thank you so much for your work on the original, and congratulations on a superb sequel.
chesamus
no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 08:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 11:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 06:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 08:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 06:21 pm (UTC)Blithering,
SHAY
no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 08:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 08:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 08:54 pm (UTC)Thanks for the strokes!
no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 09:28 pm (UTC)Ray’s whole body felt like a giant Fizzie in water, all bubbly and floating.
Sweet and hot, right down to the kiss at the end; love the way the "instruction" turns into something more, effortlessly. *happysigh*
no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 11:28 pm (UTC)Thanks! And I owe you comments on Liberty...
no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 11:19 pm (UTC)I *do* love you.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-26 11:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-27 04:12 am (UTC)This is... this is exactly what I was hoping to see when I read the challenge. Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2003-07-28 04:04 am (UTC)Me too! Jesus, woman, I'll never get to sleep tonight with visions of this crowding my head. Or maybe, when I do get to sleep, I'll see Part 3 . . .
no subject
Date: 2007-11-28 08:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-29 01:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 09:29 pm (UTC)