Anything for You - No Power Challenge by ToraK
Wow, I don't think I've even been this fast with a challenge... ever!
This story can be considered a sequel to my last ds_flashfiction entry Bitter Wine. You don't need to read it first at all, but you can if you want *g*
Pairing: RayK/RayV and RayK/RayV/Fraser (I dispair of my brain sometimes...)
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1500
Beta by the amazing buzzylittleb who can beta at a speed only dreamt of by mere mortals, and who also assured me that it fits the challenge... if it doesn't blame her ;)
This is for moirin_keeline who told me that Bitter Wine needed a threesome-including sequel... this may not have been exactly what she had in mind *g*
Anything for You
by ToraK
[Disclaimer: Quite definitely not mine. If they were I’d be rich and they’d still be on air.]
I don’t call you until six months after you leave. I can’t call you earlier because Stella and I are still working things out and we’d never work if I let myself think about you.
The first time I call, you hang up without a word. The second, you swear at me and then hang up. That’s enough encouragement and I wait thirty seconds then call you again.
“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?” You hiss into the phone. “Don’t do this to me Vecchio, I’m happy.”
“So am I,” I say, and it’s true. I am happy; Stella and I are on track. I just reckon I could be happier.
A month later we meet in Yellowknife. I told Stella I was coming up to see you guys, I don’t ask what you told Benny. You look good, you look happy. You’ve bulked out a bit and your hair’s grown. I already have a hundred flip comments at the tip of my tongue. They melt away when I see your eyes. You’re trying to look pissed at me, but your eyes are relieved.
It seems that one minute we’re saying “Hi,” the next I’m fucking you into the crisp, white sheets. I know there must have been something in between, but I don’t know what. From the look on your face, you don’t even know what day it is.
The next morning I wake up with your face pressed into my neck. You order room service, feed me strawberries from your fingers, blow me against the wall of the shower. Then you pick up your rucksack and tell me we’re never doing this again.
The second time, you’re angry at me. You said you didn’t want to do this again, and you meant it. It took two weeks of phone calls to get you to agree. You kiss and bite and scratch me. You cover my belly with bite marks. I tell Stella Dief’s gone wild.
The third time you call me. You sound down and you ask if I’m free that weekend. You’re in the room before me, you tell me about a case Fraser was working on, about a kid who you were sure you could save but who died before you could reach him. You cry though I know you hate doing it. You need to, and you can’t with Fraser because he’s feeling as crap about it as you are. We make love slowly, tenderly. I suck on your ribs until the tears fade from your eyes and you laugh.
In the morning, I don’t want you to go back to Benny. It’s the only time I ask, the only time I’ll ever ask. I hate myself the minute I say it. But it makes you smile so it’s not a total waste.
The day before what should be the forth time, you call me at midnight. Stella mumbles into her pillow and I grab the phone from the nightstand. “Vecchio?”
Your voice is low, desperate sounding. “Ben knows.”
My plane gets into Inuvik at half eight. I’ve been flying for ten hours and I’m exhausted. It’s Fraser who meets me at the airport. He doesn’t say a word; just takes my bags, holds the passenger door open, and drives me to your cabin.
You meet us at the door, take my bag. You don’t meet my eye and I wonder what I’m here for. Fraser offers me tea, which I turn down. He makes me a cup anyway, places one in front of each of us. The silence stretches and just as I’m about to scream, Benny starts to speak. His voice is hushed, broken. He sounds so sad. I’ve never felt bad about what you and me are doing. The way I saw it, he let you go, he only got you back because I let go. Now, though, I feel like shit. This isn’t “some guy” we’re hurting. This is Benny. My best friend.
You stare at your hands, folded in your lap. Your right leg is bouncing, you want to say something, but you wait ‘til he finishes. Then you look up. “I’m sorry.” You say. Your eyes look lost. Like he sounds, like I feel. You say it to him, but I reckon it’s aimed at me. You won’t leave Benny for me, I’ve always known that.
Then you get up, push the table aside and lean down over me. When I look up, you kiss me. For a moment I’m too stunned to respond, then I put a hand on your arm and kiss you back. You pull away slowly, glance across at Fraser. He’s tense. His eyes are sad. You give him a half smile, teasing almost, then you cross the room, and kiss him as well. He shakes his head, pulls away. “Please.” You whisper, and it’s as if I can see him waver. He can’t deny you anything. Neither of us can. Only this time, I’m not sure what you’re asking.
Eventually he nods, and your smile lights the shadows in his eyes. You hold out your hand to me, and I get up without question. As you lead us into the bedroom I start to understand and a part of me wants to draw back. I don’t know if I can do this, if I should. But I do.
I watch the two of you together. You’re gentle, tender. He kisses you like you might break, you kiss him like you don’t need to. Like you know you’re a part of him with out ever needing to touch. He’s tense and his eyes keep flicking to me. He doesn’t want to do this with me watching. You put your hands on either side of his face, pull him down to look into your eyes and nowhere else. He slides into you easily like he fits there, you groan, arch your back. Your left arm flings out and you grab my hand. Placing it over your cock, pulling me into the show.
Your one hand is wrapped around mine, masturbating yourself against my palm, between my half curled fist, the other is digging into Benny’s back. He’s curled over you, and as I shift to get a better angle I see the scar on his back. It’s deep. His body is beautiful, but that mark is ugly. It makes me want to hurl. I can’t help myself, I slide my hand free from your grasp and trace the scar I created with my finger tips. I hear him gasp; I’m not sure he knows it was me. Then he reaches back, takes my hand, presses it lightly to the scar, covers it with his own. I lean over, kiss his spine. Bite down on the tender mounds where it presses against his flesh. He groans, shakes and comes inside of you.
You run your hands through his hair, whisper something in his ear. He nods, and rolls to the side. You crawl across the demolished bed, climb into my lap, kiss me frantically. I grab at you, clutch your hips, pull your body tight against mine. My erection is pressing against your ass, and I want to. I want to so much. But I’m not sure you do. Not after Fraser was just there. It feels too symbolic, as if I’m usurping his place.
You laugh as if you can read my mind. You shuffle back an inch and suddenly I’m sliding into you and it’s so easy, so loose, like with a girl, but still a hundred times better.
Afterwards I think it’s going to be awkward. But you take control, lead us through, just like you’ve been directing this thing from the start. You take my hand, lead me to the sofa, pad away and come back with an armful of blankets. We spend a long time kissing in the darkened lounge, not caring that we’re naked or that Fraser is just next door. Then you leave me to sleep out here and go back to bed with Fraser. It’s fair enough, it’s your bed. This is his cabin.
In the morning, when I’m about to leave, I want to kiss you goodbye, but I don’t think I should. Fraser is stiff and brittle this morning. He wants me gone, we both know that. But you step forward and hug me, kiss me softly. I’m not sure if you’re telling me something, or Fraser.
I turn to Benny and the expression in his eyes tells me so much. Fraser loves you. He doesn’t want to lose you. He’ll choose you over me every time. Five years ago, that knowledge would have killed me, now it just seems right. You don’t deserve any less.
“Good bye, Ray.” He says, holding out his hand. I take it. Last night we were the most intimate we’ve ever been; this morning I’m afraid to hug him.
“Bye, Benny.” I drop my eyes, can’t help it. “Look, I am sorry…”
He stops me. Puts a hand on my shoulder. “I go on patrol in a fortnight,” he says softly, “I’m sure Ray would appreciate some company.”
Yeah, Fraser’ll do anything to keep you, all right.
This story can be considered a sequel to my last ds_flashfiction entry Bitter Wine. You don't need to read it first at all, but you can if you want *g*
Pairing: RayK/RayV and RayK/RayV/Fraser (I dispair of my brain sometimes...)
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1500
Beta by the amazing buzzylittleb who can beta at a speed only dreamt of by mere mortals, and who also assured me that it fits the challenge... if it doesn't blame her ;)
This is for moirin_keeline who told me that Bitter Wine needed a threesome-including sequel... this may not have been exactly what she had in mind *g*
Anything for You
by ToraK
[Disclaimer: Quite definitely not mine. If they were I’d be rich and they’d still be on air.]
I don’t call you until six months after you leave. I can’t call you earlier because Stella and I are still working things out and we’d never work if I let myself think about you.
The first time I call, you hang up without a word. The second, you swear at me and then hang up. That’s enough encouragement and I wait thirty seconds then call you again.
“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?” You hiss into the phone. “Don’t do this to me Vecchio, I’m happy.”
“So am I,” I say, and it’s true. I am happy; Stella and I are on track. I just reckon I could be happier.
A month later we meet in Yellowknife. I told Stella I was coming up to see you guys, I don’t ask what you told Benny. You look good, you look happy. You’ve bulked out a bit and your hair’s grown. I already have a hundred flip comments at the tip of my tongue. They melt away when I see your eyes. You’re trying to look pissed at me, but your eyes are relieved.
It seems that one minute we’re saying “Hi,” the next I’m fucking you into the crisp, white sheets. I know there must have been something in between, but I don’t know what. From the look on your face, you don’t even know what day it is.
The next morning I wake up with your face pressed into my neck. You order room service, feed me strawberries from your fingers, blow me against the wall of the shower. Then you pick up your rucksack and tell me we’re never doing this again.
The second time, you’re angry at me. You said you didn’t want to do this again, and you meant it. It took two weeks of phone calls to get you to agree. You kiss and bite and scratch me. You cover my belly with bite marks. I tell Stella Dief’s gone wild.
The third time you call me. You sound down and you ask if I’m free that weekend. You’re in the room before me, you tell me about a case Fraser was working on, about a kid who you were sure you could save but who died before you could reach him. You cry though I know you hate doing it. You need to, and you can’t with Fraser because he’s feeling as crap about it as you are. We make love slowly, tenderly. I suck on your ribs until the tears fade from your eyes and you laugh.
In the morning, I don’t want you to go back to Benny. It’s the only time I ask, the only time I’ll ever ask. I hate myself the minute I say it. But it makes you smile so it’s not a total waste.
The day before what should be the forth time, you call me at midnight. Stella mumbles into her pillow and I grab the phone from the nightstand. “Vecchio?”
Your voice is low, desperate sounding. “Ben knows.”
My plane gets into Inuvik at half eight. I’ve been flying for ten hours and I’m exhausted. It’s Fraser who meets me at the airport. He doesn’t say a word; just takes my bags, holds the passenger door open, and drives me to your cabin.
You meet us at the door, take my bag. You don’t meet my eye and I wonder what I’m here for. Fraser offers me tea, which I turn down. He makes me a cup anyway, places one in front of each of us. The silence stretches and just as I’m about to scream, Benny starts to speak. His voice is hushed, broken. He sounds so sad. I’ve never felt bad about what you and me are doing. The way I saw it, he let you go, he only got you back because I let go. Now, though, I feel like shit. This isn’t “some guy” we’re hurting. This is Benny. My best friend.
You stare at your hands, folded in your lap. Your right leg is bouncing, you want to say something, but you wait ‘til he finishes. Then you look up. “I’m sorry.” You say. Your eyes look lost. Like he sounds, like I feel. You say it to him, but I reckon it’s aimed at me. You won’t leave Benny for me, I’ve always known that.
Then you get up, push the table aside and lean down over me. When I look up, you kiss me. For a moment I’m too stunned to respond, then I put a hand on your arm and kiss you back. You pull away slowly, glance across at Fraser. He’s tense. His eyes are sad. You give him a half smile, teasing almost, then you cross the room, and kiss him as well. He shakes his head, pulls away. “Please.” You whisper, and it’s as if I can see him waver. He can’t deny you anything. Neither of us can. Only this time, I’m not sure what you’re asking.
Eventually he nods, and your smile lights the shadows in his eyes. You hold out your hand to me, and I get up without question. As you lead us into the bedroom I start to understand and a part of me wants to draw back. I don’t know if I can do this, if I should. But I do.
I watch the two of you together. You’re gentle, tender. He kisses you like you might break, you kiss him like you don’t need to. Like you know you’re a part of him with out ever needing to touch. He’s tense and his eyes keep flicking to me. He doesn’t want to do this with me watching. You put your hands on either side of his face, pull him down to look into your eyes and nowhere else. He slides into you easily like he fits there, you groan, arch your back. Your left arm flings out and you grab my hand. Placing it over your cock, pulling me into the show.
Your one hand is wrapped around mine, masturbating yourself against my palm, between my half curled fist, the other is digging into Benny’s back. He’s curled over you, and as I shift to get a better angle I see the scar on his back. It’s deep. His body is beautiful, but that mark is ugly. It makes me want to hurl. I can’t help myself, I slide my hand free from your grasp and trace the scar I created with my finger tips. I hear him gasp; I’m not sure he knows it was me. Then he reaches back, takes my hand, presses it lightly to the scar, covers it with his own. I lean over, kiss his spine. Bite down on the tender mounds where it presses against his flesh. He groans, shakes and comes inside of you.
You run your hands through his hair, whisper something in his ear. He nods, and rolls to the side. You crawl across the demolished bed, climb into my lap, kiss me frantically. I grab at you, clutch your hips, pull your body tight against mine. My erection is pressing against your ass, and I want to. I want to so much. But I’m not sure you do. Not after Fraser was just there. It feels too symbolic, as if I’m usurping his place.
You laugh as if you can read my mind. You shuffle back an inch and suddenly I’m sliding into you and it’s so easy, so loose, like with a girl, but still a hundred times better.
Afterwards I think it’s going to be awkward. But you take control, lead us through, just like you’ve been directing this thing from the start. You take my hand, lead me to the sofa, pad away and come back with an armful of blankets. We spend a long time kissing in the darkened lounge, not caring that we’re naked or that Fraser is just next door. Then you leave me to sleep out here and go back to bed with Fraser. It’s fair enough, it’s your bed. This is his cabin.
In the morning, when I’m about to leave, I want to kiss you goodbye, but I don’t think I should. Fraser is stiff and brittle this morning. He wants me gone, we both know that. But you step forward and hug me, kiss me softly. I’m not sure if you’re telling me something, or Fraser.
I turn to Benny and the expression in his eyes tells me so much. Fraser loves you. He doesn’t want to lose you. He’ll choose you over me every time. Five years ago, that knowledge would have killed me, now it just seems right. You don’t deserve any less.
“Good bye, Ray.” He says, holding out his hand. I take it. Last night we were the most intimate we’ve ever been; this morning I’m afraid to hug him.
“Bye, Benny.” I drop my eyes, can’t help it. “Look, I am sorry…”
He stops me. Puts a hand on my shoulder. “I go on patrol in a fortnight,” he says softly, “I’m sure Ray would appreciate some company.”
Yeah, Fraser’ll do anything to keep you, all right.