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schmericaLa la la porn.
*****
There's still a couple hours till sunset -- it's still bright outside -- but with the curtains drawn, the room's all dim and half-dark and it feels private. Just the two of them and the rumpled bed and the slick glide everywhere their skin's touching.
The heat wave started last week and it hasn't broken yet. Fraser's been quiet ever since, kind of far away. Homesick, Ray thinks -- and he'd want to say something comforting, maybe, about that, except Ray learned a long time ago that it's better when he lets his body do the talking. Which is why he's spent the whole week touching and petting Fraser more than usual and why he hasn't been letting him go home to sleep at the consulate and why he's on his side now spooning Fraser and fucking him as sweet and slow and careful as he can.
All Ray can hear is the whir of the fans and his own ragged breaths. He wraps his arm across Fraser's belly and pulls him closer, close as they can get, and kisses the back of his neck.
Fraser pushes back against him with a sigh. He says hoarsely, "Ah -- harder--"
"Yeah," Ray says. He can have what Fraser needs. Harder, harder like he wants, but sweet still, too, sweet like the sweat he tastes on Fraser's shoulder, all salty and pure. In, in again, and god, it's so good. He forces himself to loosen his grip on Fraser -- Fraser makes a noise, but it's okay, because there's Fraser's cock, fitting right into Ray's hand. Fucking's just like dancing, it's all about the rhythm, so Ray goes with it, listening to the beat in his head as he jerks Fraser off and pounds into him.
"Oh, god," Fraser chokes out. "Ray, you feel--" and he cuts himself off, breathing harshly.
"Yeah," Ray whispers, half into Fraser's hair, "me, too, Fraser. Me, too--"
Fraser tilts his head back toward him and Ray meets his mouth and kisses him, awkward and hungry and wet. Fraser's hand comes up from his leg, following Ray's hand where it moves on his cock, then Fraser goes absolutely still and Ray can feel a deep deep breath moving all through him right before he comes.
Ray strokes him, fucks him through it -- Fraser's whole body is soft now, relaxed and pliant, and he rests back against Ray and makes soft pleased noises every time Ray moves. Ray closes his eyes and softly mouths Fraser's burning neck. He's close, it's building, and he's desperate for it.
He slams in again and Fraser breathes out "Oh, *yes*" and Ray shakes and shakes, kissing every and any piece of skin he can reach as he comes, too.
After a couple of seconds Fraser's hand comes back to rest on Ray's hip. Ray's still taking rough uneven breaths and feeling broken when Fraser says, real quiet, "Thank you."
"Oh, no problem there, Fraser," Ray says. It's still sweltering out and it's starting to get uncomfortable now that the glow of sex is getting back to normal, but he hugs Fraser closer again anyway. "Anytime."
*****
There's still a couple hours till sunset -- it's still bright outside -- but with the curtains drawn, the room's all dim and half-dark and it feels private. Just the two of them and the rumpled bed and the slick glide everywhere their skin's touching.
The heat wave started last week and it hasn't broken yet. Fraser's been quiet ever since, kind of far away. Homesick, Ray thinks -- and he'd want to say something comforting, maybe, about that, except Ray learned a long time ago that it's better when he lets his body do the talking. Which is why he's spent the whole week touching and petting Fraser more than usual and why he hasn't been letting him go home to sleep at the consulate and why he's on his side now spooning Fraser and fucking him as sweet and slow and careful as he can.
All Ray can hear is the whir of the fans and his own ragged breaths. He wraps his arm across Fraser's belly and pulls him closer, close as they can get, and kisses the back of his neck.
Fraser pushes back against him with a sigh. He says hoarsely, "Ah -- harder--"
"Yeah," Ray says. He can have what Fraser needs. Harder, harder like he wants, but sweet still, too, sweet like the sweat he tastes on Fraser's shoulder, all salty and pure. In, in again, and god, it's so good. He forces himself to loosen his grip on Fraser -- Fraser makes a noise, but it's okay, because there's Fraser's cock, fitting right into Ray's hand. Fucking's just like dancing, it's all about the rhythm, so Ray goes with it, listening to the beat in his head as he jerks Fraser off and pounds into him.
"Oh, god," Fraser chokes out. "Ray, you feel--" and he cuts himself off, breathing harshly.
"Yeah," Ray whispers, half into Fraser's hair, "me, too, Fraser. Me, too--"
Fraser tilts his head back toward him and Ray meets his mouth and kisses him, awkward and hungry and wet. Fraser's hand comes up from his leg, following Ray's hand where it moves on his cock, then Fraser goes absolutely still and Ray can feel a deep deep breath moving all through him right before he comes.
Ray strokes him, fucks him through it -- Fraser's whole body is soft now, relaxed and pliant, and he rests back against Ray and makes soft pleased noises every time Ray moves. Ray closes his eyes and softly mouths Fraser's burning neck. He's close, it's building, and he's desperate for it.
He slams in again and Fraser breathes out "Oh, *yes*" and Ray shakes and shakes, kissing every and any piece of skin he can reach as he comes, too.
After a couple of seconds Fraser's hand comes back to rest on Ray's hip. Ray's still taking rough uneven breaths and feeling broken when Fraser says, real quiet, "Thank you."
"Oh, no problem there, Fraser," Ray says. It's still sweltering out and it's starting to get uncomfortable now that the glow of sex is getting back to normal, but he hugs Fraser closer again anyway. "Anytime."
