Prompt #4 Full contact sport.
Title: Love Is...
Pairing: F/K
Rating: PG for language.
Word Count: 887
Notes: I can't seem to make smut for this challenge. What is wrong with me?
“Fuck you, Benton Fraser!” Ray turned and stalked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Ben sat carefully on the edge of the couch, wondering if this is where he’d be sleeping tonight, if this was the beginning of a slippery slope.
He didn’t know what Ray wanted of him. It had only been a month ago that Ray had asked him to move in. Four short weeks was all it had taken for Fraser to destroy their relationship. The confusion was almost worse than the sense of loss. What had he done?
He took care to ensure that he didn’t encroach on Ray’s space. Made certain that he didn’t spend too long in the bathroom or leave dishes in the sink. Tried not to be too demanding of Ray’s time and attention in the evenings. He’d done everything he could think of to keep Ray happy with him and all it had achieved so far was to irritate Ray more and more.
Now Ray had shut him out of the bedroom, the only place Ben felt he made Ray truly happy. No matter how annoyed Ray was, he always relaxed when Ben climbed into bed and gathered him close. Every night ended with Ray saying, “I love you” before he slipped into sleep.
Tonight, though, it seemed Ben would be denied even that small comfort. He would be left in this place that he couldn’t make his own. On Ray’s couch, instead of on his side of Ray’s bed.
He was considering a quick shower when the bedroom door was thrown open as forcefully as it had been closed and Ray came barrelling out, anger still written in every movement of his tense body.
“This stops now, Ben. Right now. I’m not gonna live like this. Even Stella didn’t get this bad and she fucking hated me at the end.”
Ben stood, bracing himself for the loss of his best friend and lover, hoping that at the very least Ray would tell him why. Why had his best not been good enough to keep Ray’s love? He cleared his throat and managed to croak out, “I’m sorry, Ray. I’ll spend tonight at the consulate and come back tomorrow for my things.”
“NO!” Ray stepped in close and pointed to emphasize his words. “You are not moving out. That’s not what I want. Stop backing away from me. Stop keeping your stuff in one tiny fucking drawer. Stop trying to make it look like you don’t fucking live here. Stop giving me so much damn SPACE!”
Ben tried to back up a step, but Ray grabbed the front of his Henley and held him in place. Looking at the floor to avoid angering Ray further, Ben apologized again. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what it is you want from me.”
“Am I imagining things, or did I just tell you? I want you here, in my whole life, not just a tiny corner of the apartment and half of the bed.”
Ben frowned, trying to understand, and Ray let go of Ben’s shirt, pressing up against him as his voice became softer. “You feel this, Ben? Contact.”
Ben closed his eyes and allowed himself the small comfort of leaning into that familiar warmth for the brief moment before Ray pushed him away. He stumbled a little, unbalanced, but Ray didn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps he didn’t care.
Ray took a step back and his voice returned to its previous hardness as he began to speak again.
“Contact, Fraser. That’s what I want from you. Not just in the bedroom. Everywhere. Love is a full contact sport. You crash into each other, you fall down together and you get back up together and go on playing. No padding. You’re either there, or you’re not. So what is it? Are you here?”
Ben didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified. Ray wanted him, but he wanted all of him and he didn’t know how to give it. Not again. He lowered his gaze, not wanting to look at the hopeful plea in Ray’s eyes.
“The padding is there for a reason, Ray. The last time I played this game I got hurt. Badly.”
“Yeah. I get that. I got hurt, too. But what you don’t know is that when it’s good, it’s fucking great. You won’t feel half of the greatness if you don’t take the pads off, Ben. Neither will I. And I want the greatness. I want the bumps and the bruises and I want to feel you with me when we get back up to kiss it all better.”
A small spark of hope reignited in Ben’s belly. Maybe he could do this, after all. If Ray was willing to give himself so completely, then the least he could do was give it a shot. When he raised his eyes again, Ray was standing with his arms open, like he did when he was waiting for a hit. All bravado and beauty.
Ben moved in close and those arms closed around him as he pressed his face into Ray’s neck and said, “I want it, too.”
He felt Ray relax against him, even as he squeezed Ben tighter. “Thank God. Now let’s start by messing up the bedroom. Fighting always makes me horny.”
Pairing: F/K
Rating: PG for language.
Word Count: 887
Notes: I can't seem to make smut for this challenge. What is wrong with me?
“Fuck you, Benton Fraser!” Ray turned and stalked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Ben sat carefully on the edge of the couch, wondering if this is where he’d be sleeping tonight, if this was the beginning of a slippery slope.
He didn’t know what Ray wanted of him. It had only been a month ago that Ray had asked him to move in. Four short weeks was all it had taken for Fraser to destroy their relationship. The confusion was almost worse than the sense of loss. What had he done?
He took care to ensure that he didn’t encroach on Ray’s space. Made certain that he didn’t spend too long in the bathroom or leave dishes in the sink. Tried not to be too demanding of Ray’s time and attention in the evenings. He’d done everything he could think of to keep Ray happy with him and all it had achieved so far was to irritate Ray more and more.
Now Ray had shut him out of the bedroom, the only place Ben felt he made Ray truly happy. No matter how annoyed Ray was, he always relaxed when Ben climbed into bed and gathered him close. Every night ended with Ray saying, “I love you” before he slipped into sleep.
Tonight, though, it seemed Ben would be denied even that small comfort. He would be left in this place that he couldn’t make his own. On Ray’s couch, instead of on his side of Ray’s bed.
He was considering a quick shower when the bedroom door was thrown open as forcefully as it had been closed and Ray came barrelling out, anger still written in every movement of his tense body.
“This stops now, Ben. Right now. I’m not gonna live like this. Even Stella didn’t get this bad and she fucking hated me at the end.”
Ben stood, bracing himself for the loss of his best friend and lover, hoping that at the very least Ray would tell him why. Why had his best not been good enough to keep Ray’s love? He cleared his throat and managed to croak out, “I’m sorry, Ray. I’ll spend tonight at the consulate and come back tomorrow for my things.”
“NO!” Ray stepped in close and pointed to emphasize his words. “You are not moving out. That’s not what I want. Stop backing away from me. Stop keeping your stuff in one tiny fucking drawer. Stop trying to make it look like you don’t fucking live here. Stop giving me so much damn SPACE!”
Ben tried to back up a step, but Ray grabbed the front of his Henley and held him in place. Looking at the floor to avoid angering Ray further, Ben apologized again. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what it is you want from me.”
“Am I imagining things, or did I just tell you? I want you here, in my whole life, not just a tiny corner of the apartment and half of the bed.”
Ben frowned, trying to understand, and Ray let go of Ben’s shirt, pressing up against him as his voice became softer. “You feel this, Ben? Contact.”
Ben closed his eyes and allowed himself the small comfort of leaning into that familiar warmth for the brief moment before Ray pushed him away. He stumbled a little, unbalanced, but Ray didn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps he didn’t care.
Ray took a step back and his voice returned to its previous hardness as he began to speak again.
“Contact, Fraser. That’s what I want from you. Not just in the bedroom. Everywhere. Love is a full contact sport. You crash into each other, you fall down together and you get back up together and go on playing. No padding. You’re either there, or you’re not. So what is it? Are you here?”
Ben didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified. Ray wanted him, but he wanted all of him and he didn’t know how to give it. Not again. He lowered his gaze, not wanting to look at the hopeful plea in Ray’s eyes.
“The padding is there for a reason, Ray. The last time I played this game I got hurt. Badly.”
“Yeah. I get that. I got hurt, too. But what you don’t know is that when it’s good, it’s fucking great. You won’t feel half of the greatness if you don’t take the pads off, Ben. Neither will I. And I want the greatness. I want the bumps and the bruises and I want to feel you with me when we get back up to kiss it all better.”
A small spark of hope reignited in Ben’s belly. Maybe he could do this, after all. If Ray was willing to give himself so completely, then the least he could do was give it a shot. When he raised his eyes again, Ray was standing with his arms open, like he did when he was waiting for a hit. All bravado and beauty.
Ben moved in close and those arms closed around him as he pressed his face into Ray’s neck and said, “I want it, too.”
He felt Ray relax against him, even as he squeezed Ben tighter. “Thank God. Now let’s start by messing up the bedroom. Fighting always makes me horny.”