By Anam71

Feb. 2000

NC-17 for Naked Cops, 17 inches.

A romance featuring Fraser and Vecchio and his finely furnished bedroom.

Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, so leave me alone you irksome lawyers. Okay?

E-mail me at: [email protected]

Night-dreams trace on Memory’s wall

Shadows of the thoughts of day,

And thy fortunes, as they fall,

The bias of the will betray.

-From ‘Memory’ by Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)

It has only been one day that Ray has been gone, and the Mountie severely chided himself for already missing his best friend so much.

* Whine *

"Yes, Diefenbaker. I miss him too, but it has only been one day. Before you know it Ray will be in our company again, and I will no longer be subject to your incessant sulking."

* Whine *

"Although, I do believe your intentions to be somewhat selfish. Who else slips you donuts? Who else drives you all over the city? Hmm?"

* Whine *

"Yes, I know. Ray has a tendency to habitually drive me to a number of locations in his automobile too, but that is different."

* Whine *

"Oh, never mind."

Fraser continued his lupine conversation while walking home from another day of duty at the Canadian consulate. At about this time, the Italian detective would swing by the consulate and the Mountie would automatically climb into the safety of the Riv without even a second thought.

Today, and for the rest of the week, Fraser would be deprived of this special courtesy.

Diefenbaker was right, maybe he too was missing Ray for his own selfish reasons. Ray didn’t have to drive him home to his apartment every evening from work. Indeed, the walk home from the consulate was no more than ten minutes, which is why he leased the small apartment in the first place.

But there was this unspoken need for Ray to drive the Mountie home, and an unspoken need for the Mountie to be driven. They really didn’t know why.

They needed to be together; they were best friends.

Fortunately for Fraser, Ray would be only away for one week. He was attending a training seminar in forensics in Quantico, Virginia at the FBI academy. Lieutenant Welsh had chosen the Italian to attend due to his high arrest record, and he figured it wouldn’t hurt the detective to have an edge over the competition.

Unfortunately for Fraser, Ray would be away for one week and he would miss his best friend terribly. They really have not spent long periods apart since they first met two years ago. This was new ground for Fraser in his relationship with Ray.

This made him seriously think…

His apartment finally came into view up the block, along with several white vans from Chicago Public Health Safety ominously parked in front of the old, familiar building.

"Oh dear."

Fraser quickly reached a small group of his downtrodden neighbors standing watch over this strange spectacle. The entrance door of the apartment complex was cordoned off, and a number a safety officers in white lab coats entered and exited the old building.

One safety official with a look of disgust came out with a small metal cage containing a huge brown rat the size of a small chihuahua. This did not bode well for the tenants.

"Um, Mr. Mustafi? Do you know what’s going on here?" Fraser asked.

"One of the Gamez children was bitten last week by a rat in his bedroom. I heard he may have rabies and he is now at Cook County hospital. That is why Public Safety is here, to inspect our building."

"Rabies? Oh dear." Fraser hoped it wasn’t the young boy Mario who a not too long ago suffered food poisoning from consuming tainted ground meat purchased at the supermarket. It wasn’t easy being a poor kid in Chicago.

* Whine * Dief wasn’t happy about rabies either.

An official now stood at the entrance of the building and he spoke up to the crowd.

"I’m sorry to inform you that this building is uninhabitable and unsafe until we are able to exterminate all vermin occupying this dwelling. Then another thorough inspection must be conducted to insure the safety of this building. Until then, you may not be permitted to reside here."

There was a low angry murmur from the group and a young, polite tenant dressed in red and wearing a stetson spoke up, "Uh, excuse me sir, but may I ask how long that may take?"

"I’m sorry to inform you that due to budgetary constraints and a lack of staffing, this process may take approximately a week."

The low angry murmur now turned into a growl.

An irate tenant shouted, "Where are we supposed to live until then?"

"I’m sure we can help you find a temporary residence at your local church or homeless shelter. But for now, you are allowed to enter the building under our supervision to collect any necessary items or personal belongings."

The dejected crowd entered the apartment to their rooms to collect their things.

Fraser grabbed his knapsack, some clothing, his toiletries, his father’s journals, a lantern, and a pressed uniform.

A safety officer kept careful watch over Fraser should killer rabies-infested rats ever attack him. "I can’t believe you actually live here," the officer commented.

The Mountie answered earnestly, "It’s not that bad, really."

The figure in the white lab coat gaped at him, then rolled his eyes.

Fraser finally stepped outside onto the sidewalk and seriously thought about where he should temporarily reside. Maybe he can ask one of his neighbors for help, and he suddenly realized that all of his neighbors have already dispersed and scattered away.

He had no money for a motel, and he didn’t want to burden Father Behran for help when there were more needy people for the priest to consider.

And Ray, his best friend, wasn’t here to help. If he was here, Fraser wouldn’t have given this problem a second thought knowing that the Italian would whole-heartedly let the Canadian into his home.

His only option now was to seek shelter in his office at the consulate. It was only for a week. It shouldn’t be that bad. It could have been a lot worse… his apartment could have burned down to the ground and Ray could have been on some crazy secret mission to never return home to the Mountie’s rescue.

God forbid!

Fraser with his knapsack, lantern, and white wolf headed for the Canadian consulate. He ardently wished Ray would get back real soon.

The Mountie did manage to make his small office a comfortable dwelling for the night: he spread out his bedroll and turned up his lantern.

He began to unbutton his tunic when Inspector Margaret Thatcher suddenly burst into his office, and he stood there quite stunned.

"Uh, Inspector? I didn’t know you were still here!"

"Constable, what do think you are doing?" The Inspector was glaring at him in her severely pink business suit.

"Um, well sir, I needed to find some temporary lodgings since my apartment building was condemned by Chicago’s Public Health Safety due to an infestation by rabies diseased rats…"

"Did you just say ‘diseased rats’ Constable?" The Inspector was fuming now; she already had a long and frustrating day with Constable Turnbull and the coffee maker, and now diseased rats!

"Um, yes sir. I had no other place to go, so I decided to take shelter in my office for the week…"

"That is out of the question, Constable! We have very important French dignitaries visiting here and I don’t want them to see one of our officers using his office as a flophouse. Do you understand? It makes our reputation look questionable."

"Yes, sir. I understand, but…"

"Good. You have approximately five minutes to vacate your office or spend the next five weeks pulling sentry duty full time. Do you understand, Constable?"

"Yes sir."

"Good." The Inspector stepped out of his office and slammed his door.

The Mountie sadly collected his gear and stood motionless for a moment. Where was he to go? Where would he stay with so little money?

For the first time since he had left the Territories, he truly felt alone.

But he wasn’t really that alone, was he?

He timidly he picked up his phone and dialed. After a few rings, a bright chirping voice answered, "Vecchio residence. Hello?"

"Good evening, Francesca. It’s me, Benton."

The voice squealed. "Benton? Oh my God. Oh, I mean hello! Why are ya calling? Ray won’t back for a week."

"I’m aware of that. Actually, I called to ask for a favor."

"Really? A favor from me! I’ll be glad to, Benton! Yes!"

"But I haven’t asked for the favor yet, Francesca."

"Oh, no matter what you ask the answer will be yes!"

Fraser was beginning to think he was making a horrible mistake. The detective’s baby sister sounded just a little too enthusiastic, and he gripped the phone a little more tightly.

But he had no choice now.

The Mountie uncomfortably cleared his throat and continued on: "Well, Francesca, I cannot reside at my apartment for a week because it has been condemned by Public Health Safety. I was wondering if I could stay at your house until I am able to return to my home. That is, if Mrs. Vecchio wouldn’t mind…"

"Of course we love for you to stay, Benton! Ma loves having you over. Do you need me to pick you up? Where are you now?"

"This is very kind of you, Francesca. You can pick me up in front the consulate."

"Good! I’m on my way. You just hold tight and I’ll take real good care of ya."

"Um, thank you kindly, Francesca."

"See ya soon." The phone clicked off and Fraser felt a strange dread in his stomach.

He may be getting himself into a worse situation.

"It won’t be that bad."

* Whine * The wolf fearfully peered at him from under the desk.

"Oh, don’t you start."

 <><><><>

The Mountie and the wolf patiently waited in front of the consulate for their ride, and instead of a green classic Riv roaring down the street, there was now a little white Saab that came puttering along.

The tiny car swiftly pulled up in front of them.

Fraser opened the passenger door and was greeted by a radiantly smiling Francesca and a heart-broken Celine Dion blaring from the radio about her lost love.

"Hello, Francesca. I really do appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to help me."

The young Italian smiled sweetly at him. "Anytime, Ben. I love to help ya."

The wolf and the Mountie loaded themselves into the small white car and it puttered away to the Vecchio home.

Ray’s sister chatted away about how she would have used Ray’s car instead but he had taken his keys with him, about how she gets no respect at home, and then she discussed her complex career in skin care products.

Dief was whining softly in the back seat, being more used to the spacious confines of the classic green car and better conversation.

Fraser sadly stared out the window; the cityscape now passing into residential areas in a dark blur of the evening. He felt oddly hallow inside and unsure of himself, like as if he had misplaced something important or couldn’t remember if he had turned his gas stove off or not.

He had never felt this way before and he couldn’t explain it.

The little Saab turned onto North Octavia Avenue and soon pulled up into the familiar driveway, the headlights now spotlighting the Riv parked there and reminding the Mountie of its owner being gone.

Fraser felt that odd hallow pang again in his body.

"We’re here, Ben."

They entered the old large house, and Fraser politely removed his stetson in the foyer and cleared his throat.

"Uh, Francesca? Where is your mother? I would like to personally thank her for letting me stay for the week."

"Oh! I forgot to tell ya, Ma is in Florida visiting family and Maria is with her too!" She smiled sweetly again.

The Mountie’s blue eyes widened. He was alone with *her* in this big house for one whole week. What has he gotten himself into?

"Um, really? I’m not sure it would be proper for me to stay here, Francesca."

"Of course it will be okay, Ben." The young lady smoothly answered and stepped forward.

"You better keep ya paws off him, Frannie!" A strong authoritative male voice carried loudly through the living room. Both of them jumped at the sudden noise.

It wasn’t Ray.

Instead, it was Tony.

Francesca rolled her eyes. "Does it look like I’m pawing him?"

"No. Looks like ya about to jump him." It seemed Ray wasn’t the only one who was on to Frannie's obsession with the Mountie.

"Um, hello Tony. I’m here because I needed a place to reside…"

"Yeah, I know. Frannie told me after ya called. She probably forgot to tell ya Ma wasn’t home, huh?"

"Um, well? It may have slipped her mind." Fraser tried hard to be polite to both of his benefactors.

"Yeah, Tony. It slipped my mind. Okay?" The woman defiantly folded her arms and glared at her brother-in-law.

"Yeah, right. Whatever ya say, Frannie. Let me show ya to the guestroom, Fraser."

Tony took Fraser’s knapsack and led the way up the huge staircase followed by the Mountie being followed closely by the young Italian girl. The wolf smartly stayed in the kitchen.

Opening the door to the guestroom Tony muttered under his breath. "Shit."

The room was a mess; there were boxes and clothes on the bed and on the floor. Ma or Maria was obviously spring-cleaning and didn’t have a chance to finish the job.

Frannie called out over the Mountie’s shoulder. "I’m not cleaning that mess up. I had to wash the dishes tonight."

"Well, I’m not! I just got home from work." Tony snapped back.

Fraser was feeling like a burden now, which he completely hated. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He should have set up camp in the park instead; he was highly trained in outdoor wilderness-survival anyway.

"Please Tony, I can sleep on the sofa downstairs. It’s really no problem."

Tony gaped at the Mountie. "No way Fraser! Ma would strangle me if she ever found out that I let ya sleep on the sofa all week."

"Maybe Ben can sleep in my bedroom."

"Shut the hell up, Frannie!"

"Here Fraser, you can go sleep in Ray’s room since he’s gone." Tony walked to the bedroom door and swung it wide open.

Fraser strangely started at the suggestion, but he wasn’t sure why. "Um, are you sure Ray wouldn’t mind me using his bedroom?"

"Nah. I mean, this is his house and everybody lives here." Tony flicked on the light switch and flung Fraser’s knapsack onto the large dark bed.

"Help yourself to the fridge, Fraser. Ma has enough food to keep us from starving to death while she’s away."

"Thank you kindly, Tony."

"I’m going to watch the game downstairs. If ya need anything just holler."

"Yeah, if ya need anything Ben, I’m right in the next room." Francesca enjoyed being very helpful to the Canadian.

"Jeez. Will ya leave him alone Frannie!"

The Mountie quickly stepped into Ray’s bedroom and closed the door to avoid any further conflict. He inhaled deeply and let out a long and agonizing breath, relieved that his hard day was soon coming to a close.

He inhaled again, and suddenly felt safe and relaxed.

He was breathing in Ray.

His eyes opened wide at the thought and he realized that he could smell Ray in this room, the expensive cologne with a trace of gun oil.

Why would this make him feel better? Maybe Ray’s friendship was one of those few stable things in his life he can count on, especially after a day full of little disasters.

And he had to admit; he had a very bad day.

He sat down wearily on the large bed and was mildly shocked to find how comfortable it felt, so much unlike his own bed in the apartment. Ray liked taking good care of himself.

His friend found it unnecessary to live spartanly just as Fraser found it unnecessary to live luxuriously.

The Mountie smiled at their odd differences and pulled out some sweats from his knapsack. He slowly began to undress and felt a little strange now being unclothed in his friend’s bedroom.

He stared at his friend’s bed and hastily put on his sweats.

Fraser went down to the kitchen and found a hot plate of food waiting for him on the table, and Deif standing by eagerly watching and waiting for a tidbit. He wasn’t exactly sure who put it there, and there was no one around to thank. So he simply sat down and ate.

He washed up in the bathroom and entered his friend’s bedroom again. Deif decided to sleep in the kitchen, of course.

The Mountie picked out one his father’s journals from his knapsack and pulled back the covers of Ray’s bed. He basically followed his nightly routine, except under a different roof.

There was a soft knock on the door and a voice in the hallway. "Goodnight, Ben."

"Goodnight, Francesca." He heard her enter her own room and close her door.

The house finally settled into a deep, calm quiet, very much unlike his apartment with its noisy occupants up at all odd hours of the night.

He climbed into Ray’s bed and tugged the covers up.

He opened his father’s journal and began reading.

Or he tried to read. He just couldn’t focus on the scribbled words on the worn page.

Ray.

Lying in Ray’s bed was distracting him. Why?

Maybe it was the bed. It was extremely comfortable, and very wide. His bed at home was a slab of wood.

The sheets felt funny. Upon closer inspection, he discovered the sheets to be made of silk. They were smooth and satiny under his touch.

Of course! Ray wore silk shirts; of course he would sleep on silk sheets. The man loved silk, and he loved keeping those silk worms busy.

Fraser smiled when he remembered how Ray sat on his bed once in his small apartment to remove another pair of ruined shoes. Ray had made a comment about his tiny bed…

‘You like to punish yourself, Fraser?’

‘Um, no Ray. Why do you ask?’

‘I asked because this bed was only made to punish. God, Fraser! If you were a monk, you’d probably flog yourself senselessly twenty-four hours a day.’

‘Now that’s just silly, Ray.’

Fraser squirmed in his friend’s bed, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

All positions were comfortable. All he had to do was just lie there. This was too different for him. Sleeping in his old small bed had required work.

He reached over to the night table and turned off the lamp. The pitch black instantly enhanced his olfactory senses, and he smelled Ray.

He smelled Ray everywhere.

Expensive cologne with a trace of gun oil. The smell of a cop, now in his nose and in his lungs. Ray was everywhere, even when he was gone.

Fraser pulled the covers up over his head, and the smell only intensified. Ray, under the covers with him and all over him. Ray seeping in, Ray inside him.

He felt that strange burn in his groin and quickly realized what it signified.

Fraser jumped out the bed as if it was on fire.

The Mountie was trembling at his reaction, not really understanding what was happening to him. There was that dull throb in his groin, and so he placed his hand there.

Fraser was hard.

He was only lying in his friend’s bed. What was happening to him?

Fraser paced the room, frantically thinking of how he arrived to this state. He came up with a diagnosis: work-related-stress.

He shrugged, and turned on his own lantern. He grabbed his bedroll and spread it out on the floor besides Ray’s large empty bed.

He was going to sleep on the floor.

Fraser got down on the thin mattress and worked himself into that comfortable position to get him to fall asleep. He was use to this struggle.

He shifted and turned a number of times for that comfortable position, working himself into it, and for some reason he found it quite difficult.

He turned again, and found himself now staring under Ray’s bed.

Under Ray’s bed were a few old cardboard boxes, gathering dust and its offspring of dust bunnies.

He became very curious; those boxes contained something, as all boxes do.

Fraser definitely couldn’t sleep now.

Would Ray mind if he took a fast peek in those boxes?

Of course he would.

No he wouldn’t.

Fraser was never going to sleep.

He turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Ray basically shared everything with him anyway. So what would be the difference now?

He’ll just tell Ray the truth that he looked inside those boxes, if those boxes provided anything worth mentioning. He’ll tell Ray the truth when he got back.

With great shame and curiosity, he reached his arm under the bed and pulled out one cardboard box. He sat Indian style on his bedroll with the box on his lap, and sneezed several times from the pervasive dust.

Fraser opened the box by his lantern light and peeped inside. Innocently enough, it contained the odds and ends of worn photographs, some old birthday cards from childhood, a broken string of rosary beads, and a battered high school yearbook.

It felt like he found a pot of gold. Ray’s gold.

He opened up a few birthday cards, some from Ray’s mother, some from his aunts. Fraser found one card from Ray’s seventh birthday that was from his father. It was the only card he could find bearing the father’s signature.

This made him frown since he was being reminded of his relationship with his own father, now deceased.

Fraser flipped through the high school yearbook, seeking Ray’s picture and quickly spotting it. The expressive eyes were a dead giveaway, along with the prominent nose and smooth cheekbones. The only difference was that Ray had hair, thick black hair.

Turning over some more pages, he discovered that Ray was on the high school’s basketball team and he was voted the high school’s biggest loud mouth.

Fraser laughed at this; at least his best friend was consistent.

He also found pictures of Angie in the old book, and also a few of Irene and Frankie… he winced and put the yearbook away, not really wanting to look at it anymore.

He went through every photograph in the box, unraveling his friend’s life for him to fully examine. He enjoyed those pictures from when Ray was a child, some of them including his sisters.

It seemed that in some of the pictures Ray and Frannie were either fighting or glaring at each other. He’ll never understand their complex big brother-baby sister relationship.

A few pictures of his father, but many of his mother. Ray took after his mother, kind and open and hazel-green eyes.

Ray inherited his father’s hairline and hard edge, but fortunately, that was all.

The Canadian went to retrieve another box from under the bed and looking at his watch, he suddenly realized that it was close to five in the morning. He had to get ready for work now. He’ll have to leave those boxes for later tonight.

The Mountie felt fortunate that Tony drove him to the consulate today, he was exhausted from getting no sleep. He would have never made it on foot.

Fraser managed fine in the morning; all he had to do was pull sentry duty. But the afternoon required office work, and in his fatigued state he made several minor mistakes.

After breaking the Xerox copier, he had officially made number one on Inspector Thatcher’s shit list, hence knocking poor Turnbull down to the number two position.

He really needed to get some sleep tonight, but all he could think about was getting back to Ray’s bedroom and going through those secret boxes. In fact, all he could do today was think about Ray.

Ray, his best friend.

Now standing in front of the Canadian consulate and waiting with Deif in the dark evening, his heart rapidly soared when he saw the little white Saab pull up to the curve. It meant he was getting closer to being in Ray’s bedroom.

"Are you okay, Ben? You look a little tired."

"I’m fine, Francesca."

The Mountie had his pasta dinner with Tony and Francesca, with a hungry Dief lurking under the dining table hoping that someone was sloppy enough to drop a morsel of food on the floor.

Fraser wolfed his food down very rapidly; he wanted to go to bed now!

He wanted to go to Ray’s bedroom.

The two Italians stared at him a little worried. The Canadian actually ate faster than Ray!

Francesca was now seething. It was all Inspector Thatcher’s fault! That bitch overworked poor Ben, and she didn’t even give him time to eat lunch. The poor man was starving to death, and he had dark bags under his eyes too. The next time she ever sees the Inspector she was going to kick her ass.

The meal ended with Fraser politely excusing himself, and running up the staircase and quickly washing himself up in the bathroom.

Finally back in Ray’s bedroom, he let out a long and agonizing sigh. He was here, where he wanted to be. He belonged here.

He didn’t know why and he didn’t care.

It didn’t matter. He was here.

After changing into his sweats and spreading out his bedroll, he got down to the floor and pulled out another box from under Ray’s bed.

Fraser opened up the box eagerly by the lantern light, and found a large white photo album lined with silk. It was pretty heavy, and Fraser lugged it out of the box to get a better look at it.

It was a wedding album.

Fraser was always forgetting that Ray was actually married once. Or did he wanted to forget? He laid the album in his lap, and opened the white cover.

Fraser couldn’t believe how handsome Ray was, sleek and long in his black Armani tuxedo with a blood red rose in his lapel. And by Ray’s side was a short woman with dark hair and pretty brown eyes in pure white with lilies.

Angie.

Did Fraser feel a little stab of jealousy?

Maybe it was just guilt from going through all of Ray’s personal items.

He went through all the album’s photos, weeding out family and friends, mostly concentrating on his friend Ray in classical black.

Ray looked very happy in these photos, quite unaware at the time of the impending doom of the marriage. His heart went out to his friend and the anguish he must have went through. Then Fraser wondered what his relationship with his partner would have been like if Ray and Angie had never divorced.

Nearing the end of the wedding album, Fraser looked closely at the very last photograph.

It was of Ray and Angie, posing now as if they were quietly sneaking off into their stretch limousine, most likely going off to their honeymoon and leaving their unsuspecting wedding guests behind.

Ray had a mischievous and wicked grin, and Angie had an index finger up to her lips as if she was hushing the viewer of the photo not to tattletale on them.

He found this photo very amusing for some strange reason.

Fraser then found a peculiar object taped to the back cover of the wedding album, and holding it up to the lantern light he discovered it was Ray’s gold wedding band. Ray must have taped his wedding ring to the album after he removed it from his finger, after his divorce from Angie.

His friend had taped it to the back of his wedding album to signify the end.

Finality.

Fraser sadly and gently traced the gold band with his fingertip, solid and real and hard under his light touch.

"I do."

Fraser gulped. Did he just say ‘I do?’

To who?

To Ray?

Fraser had a sudden image of Ray shoving wedding cake down his mouth.

The Mountie was startled at such an inexplicable image; maybe he was missing Ray a little too much. He quickly put the wedding album away into the box and then shoved it under the bed. He really had to get some sleep. He was very tired.

Fraser stretched himself out on his thin bedroll.

But he couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking of Ray in sleek, Armani black and his blood red rose, and Ray sneaking off to his forbidden honeymoon, being amusing.

Fraser was thinking dreamily of that gold wedding band glowing in lantern light.

And Ray now lying flat on his back on the bridal bed, opening himself up and Fraser, dressed in Mountie red, not matrimony white, was taking Ray and fucking him very hard.

They finally consummated and Ray wailed happily as Fraser ruthlessly pounded him.

Fraser sat up abruptly in the dark, breathing uncontrollably. Was he just dreaming?

Did he actually dream of Ray under him? Did he actually dream of doing that to Ray, his very best friend?

Fraser slipped his pale hand down his body and found himself rock hard for the second night in a row.

Oh God!

What was happening to him? It must be something.

Pacing the dark bedroom, Fraser now carefully and logically reviewed all of his thoughts and emotions and actions of these past two days. It seemed they were all centered on his friend Ray.

Beautiful, sleek, lovely, warm Ray.

Was he in love with Ray?

What else could it be? It couldn’t be work-related-stress.

He was always thinking about the Italian, looking forward to spending time with him; time with him in the Riv, in the precinct, in his apartment, in Ray’s house for dinner, even in a freezing-cold meat locker and a flooded bank vault.

But with his best friend now being absent, his thoughts of Ray were magnified a thousand-fold. Ray was gone, but he was everywhere.

He loved him. He loved Ray!

Fraser stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, contemplating the significance of this revelation with a mixture of shame and joy.

The alarm clock rang rudely throughout the dim bedroom and Fraser dragged himself up to his feet, his body now heavily weighed down with exhaustion and discovery.

The Mountie had a feeling that today was going to be a very long and hard day…

And he was right.

Francesca had drove him to work at the consulate this morning, and she made him twenty minutes late.

Deif was in a huff about something, and all the wolf did was incessantly whine all day.

He had a lot of filing and typing to do, and he fell behind in his work due to all the little mistakes he had made. He also broke the Xerox copier again.

Fraser was beginning to make Constable Turnbull look like a brain surgeon.

A frustrated and angry Inspector Thatcher made him pull sentry duty for the rest of the afternoon, where he could do as little damage as possible.

And all the Mountie could do was think of Ray.

His sweet Ray.

Fraser was terribly relieved when he saw the little white Saab pulling up to the curb at the end of the day. He hurriedly jumped into the car, almost forgetting his wolf.

"Francesca, I’m so glad to see you."

"You are, Ben? Really?"

After another hasty evening meal with Tony and Francesca, he was quickly up in Ray’s bedroom again.

And inside another dusty box.

This time the box contained law enforcement training guides and old worn notebooks from Ray’s police academy days. He also found Ray’s gold-framed diploma from the police academy.

He wondered why Ray did not hang his diploma on the wall.

Ray once said his father had detested cops.

There was an old photograph of Ray the rookie cop in dress blues standing by his first superior Lieutenant Will Kelly, the man who had planted evidence for Ray to find to convict Carver. Fraser remembered vividly how hurt Ray was when he discovered the retired cop’s duplicity.

He also remembered how clever Ray was enough to save him from being crushed to death in an old Buick Riviera at the car pound, and to put Carver back in jail again.

Ray his hero.

Fraser managed very little sleep that night, dreaming mostly of his Ray not in tuxedo black, but now outfitted in dress blues. Ray’s elegant slim hands were sheathed in soft cotton-white gloves, and Fraser woke up extremely hard again.

Tony drove him to the consulate and he thankfully arrived on time. The Inspector even seemed pleased with him.

But he misplaced a very important classified file that morning, and Inspector Thatcher swiftly put him on sentry duty again.

Fraser didn’t mind. Now staring straight ahead, he could think of his Ray for hours.

As the week went by, Fraser was beginning to feel quite at ease at the Vecchio home.

With the exception of a few lustful glances, Francesca was actually behaving herself now that she was very busy with her new job in cosmetics.

Tony keeping watchful guard over his crafty sister-in-law also helped too.

Although on one occasion, Fraser found her milling about in the hallway when he was ready to take a shower in the bathroom. He effectively locked the bathroom door, but he still felt a little unsafe. Ray was very clever at opening locked doors with only a credit card and a penknife, and Fraser hoped it wasn’t a genetic trait passed down to the baby sister.

He was starting to enjoy his stay at the Vecchio home; the experience was marred only by Ray’s absence. His Ray would be home soon. Just one more night.

But it was the nights he looked forward to. The nights of dark exploration of his friend Ray.

Fraser must have gone through most of Ray’s belongings, feeling torn up by fault and love and curiosity. Fraser even dusted and cleaned some of Ray’s things just to relieve some of his guiltiness.

His friend’s bedroom was now sparkling clean and spotless.

Now that he knew that he loved Ray, he finally decided to sleep in Ray’s silk bed. It was as close to Ray as he will ever get. Fraser wished he only did it sooner then wasted his time on that thin and flimsy bedroll.

He inhaled his friend again from under the dark covers, feeling full and empty at the same time.

Feeling full of love for Ray, and empty of that love not being returned.

Sadly, he curled up in the large bed and managed a somewhat troubled sleep, a sleep never quite reaching a full state of REM.

Fraser thought he had heard strange sounds of shuffling, and he quickly awoke from his light slumber. He lifted his head and peered into the darkness, and saw a slim dark figure drag a suitcase into the far corner of the room by the closet.

The figure opened the closet door and there was the ruffling of clothes and hangers. The dark figure dropped something heavy and he mumbled.

"Shit."

"Um, Ray?"

The dark figure stopped his shuffling and came out the closet. "Hey, Benny. I didn’t mean to wake ya."

Fraser felt a happy surge of relief that his friend was finally back in his presence.

"It’s okay, Ray. When did you get in?"

"Not too long ago, I took a cab from the airport. I decided to leave Virginia a day early because there’s supposed to be a snowstorm coming into that area. I ran into Tony in the living room and told me that you were crashing in my room. You’re a very brave man to do that, what with crazy Frannie in the next room."

The dark figure finally materialized into Ray as Fraser’s eyesight slowly adjusted to the dim bedroom. The figure known as Ray approached the side of the bed while removing his silk tie.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and yawned. "God, I’m beat."

"What time is it Ray?"

"Oh, I think it’s about two or two-thirty in the morning."

"What is it about plane trips that knock the shit out of me?" Ray yawned and dropped back into his bed, his head now resting lightly across on Fraser’s legs tucked under the blankets.

The Mountie gulped at the innocent physical contact by his friend, and he felt a tingling slow burn in his stomach that trickled down to his groin. Fraser cleared his throat and tried to speak in a steady and calm voice.

"Umm, so Ray, how was the seminar?"

"It wasn’t that bad, Benny. Some of it was pretty interesting. A lot of it was mostly about the latest techniques in forensics and DNA fingerprinting. I kinda liked the tool marks identification lecture. Too bad you couldn’t come with me, I think you would of have liked it."

"I don’t think Inspector Thatcher would have allowed me to take leave of my duties at the time." Fraser sighed; the seminar would have been quite useful to him as a law enforcer.

"Jeez, Benny. Sometimes I have a feeling she enjoys holding you back."

"Really?"

"Hey? Where’s the wolf?"

"Diefnbaker has been sleeping in the kitchen every night, Ray."

"Oh great! He’s probably doing guard duty by the refrigerator."

The detective yawned loudly and sat up again. He began to remove his expensive leather shoes.

The Mountie shifted and got up to leave the bed.

"Where are you’re going, Benny?"

"Well, now that you’re here I thought you want your bed back, and I can sleep in the guestroom…"

"Benny, I’m going to sleep in the guestroom, okay? I’m not going to kick you out of my bed in the middle of the night. Jesus."

"But the guestroom is a mess."

"Then I’ll just clean it."

"Are you sure, Ray?"

"Of course I’m sure. You might as well enjoy sleeping in a *real* bed for once in your life. It’s not everyday I’m going to let you in my bed…" Ray suddenly winced at what he had just said, not liking the way it sounded coming from his own mouth.

He recovered somewhat and stammered on, "Um, I mean, ya know? It’s a real bed, not the crappy bed-of-nails that you sleep on in that rabies rat trap you call home."

"Uh, yes Ray."

The detective quickly got up and headed for the closet. "Go to sleep, Benny. Okay?"

"Thank you kindly, Ray." Fraser rested his head on the pillow and curled up under the blankets. He had to admit the bed was extremely comfortable and spacious. He may even get use to it.

The shuffling noises in the closet returned, and unable to sleep, Fraser listened intently as he thought about Ray lying across his legs like that so nonchalantly. Then there was Ray’s odd reaction about him ‘enjoying his bed.’

More noises from the closet, with the clanking of clothes hangers and Fraser furtively looked up over his shoulder.

Ray was getting undressed.

The Mountie remained motionless, staring mesmerized as the thin dark figure removed his white silk shirt and hung it up in the black space of the closet.

And without warning, the baggy slacks swiftly dropped down the small hips and slim legs. Ray carefully folded the expensive garment, and hung that up too.

Fraser’s eyes lovingly traced the smooth curves of that slight body in the sparse moonlight from the window. Ray’s shoulders were broader than he had first imagined, accented by the sharp contours of his shoulder blades. The finely curved neck seemed even longer now, and more exquisite.

The Mountie quickly squeezed his eyes shut as Ray proceeded to remove his black briefs, and when Fraser opened his eyes again a beautiful sight greeted him.

The Italian had a very smooth and narrow back that elegantly tapered down to a petite waist, and that sweet dip of the small of his back gracefully sloped up to two perfectly small, rounded buttocks. His legs were flowingly long and polished with well-shaped calves.

Fraser didn’t realized how lean his friend would look without the baggy and loose-fitting clothing.

Ray now reminded him of those hungry lone wolves he had encountered on a few occasions in the Territories, those wolves that did not belong to a wolf pack but survived solely on their own.

These lone wolves on occasion would join a pack, maybe seeking help or nourishment, only to leave a few days later unseen and unheard from again. These loners were always looking for food, always not getting enough, and always lean.

Fraser shuddered; he was excruciatingly hard now. He brought this upon himself and should have known better than to leer at his best friend like this.

The dark lithe form reached for his bathrobe on the peg of the closet door, and abruptly stopped. Ray suddenly turned his head and was staring wide-eyed into Fraser’s face.

"Benny?"

Fraser was now staring wide-eyed at Ray; caught in the act. He felt his heart stop in his chest, and his face flushed hot like a blushing bride.

"Benny?"

"Oh God, Ray. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… um, I didn’t mean to…" Fraser realized that his heart didn’t stop after all, since it was pounding violently in his body with fear.

"Were you watching me, Fraser?"

"Uh, Ray, I didn’t mean to. I am sorry if I have embarrassed you."

"You were actually watching me undress? Oh my God."

"I am really sorry, Ray. If you want, I’ll leave…"

"You were actually looking at my scrawny, skinny ass?" Ray was staring at his friend incredulously.

"I wouldn’t describe it that way, Ray."

Fraser was a little shocked at his friend’s derogatory statement about himself. Ray had always seemed so self-confident; this was a sad surprise to him.

"Jeez. I’m not much to look at, Benny. I’m rather on the spindly side, ya know. Not many people like that."

"I think you’re beautiful, Ray."

Ray’s green eyes widened at that comment, and Fraser’s blue eyes widened at that he had actually said it.

"I would understand if you wanted me to leave, Ray."

"Stay, Benny. I never kick anyone out of my house, or my bed, in the middle of the night."

"Are you sure?"

"So, you really think I’m beautiful?"

"Um, yes I do, Ray. I’m sorry, but I do."

Ray was touched that anyone would find him beautiful, let alone Fraser. Angie had once said he was cute, but so were hamsters, damn it!

Ray was starting to feel somewhat strange just standing there, with the Canadian staring at his ass in his own bedroom. He was actually starting to feel quite sexy.

"Nobody has ever said that I was beautiful before. Are you absolutely sure, Fraser?"

"I’m quite sure Ray. I know what I see with my own eyes."

The detective was stunned how this peculiar and forbidden conversation was progressing, and he decided to see how far it could go.

Ray unexpectedly turned his whole unclad body around to fully face Fraser.

"Do you still think I’m beautiful, Benny?"

The Mountie gasped.

"Oh God Ray!" Fraser certainly didn’t see that one coming.

Ray misinterpreted his friend’s reaction and quickly snatched his robe, wrapping it quickly around his nude frame. He flinched at what he had done to his best friend.

"Damn, Benny. I’m sorry I did that to you. That was so rotten of me."

Embarrassed, he hurried out of his room and silently closed the bedroom door.

Ray shamefully stepped into the bathroom angrily cursing himself for what he had done. He just flashed poor innocent Benny like some sort of perverted creep.

The Mountie was probably only making a kind comment about his physique, and nothing more than that. He was probably just sharing a hypothetical observation, like a seasoned art historian describing the scholastic details of an Old Dutch painting.

And demented Ray thought his friend was actually attracted to him, and so he went and turned it all into cheap and sordid incident. He hoped this wouldn’t ruin his friendship with the Canadian.

The detective would have to apologize to Benny and explain himself, if he had the guts to.

He just had to figure out how.

But for now, Ray stood under an ice-cold shower to punish himself and his erection.

Shell-shocked Fraser sat there in Ray’s bed, unmoving, still reeling from what he had just saw. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t breathe.

He had just saw the real thing.

He thought he had an idea what Ray may look like nude ever since that incident where they went dumpster diving looking for that tainted ground meat, and poor Ray was innocently attacked by those wiggling parasites.

Fraser had barely looked at Ray in the shower that day, since rest of the Vecchio clan paid a visit to the bathroom, and at that time he was more fascinated with the parasites than with his best friend. He was really stupid back then.

So the Mountie had only an idea what Ray would look like. He was way off base.

Ray was more than beautiful.

Now he wanted his friend more than ever. He had to tell him.

The detective finally stepped out of the shower and toweled himself dry with a long and miserable sigh. He reached to get his pajamas… Shit! In his haste to escape his bedroom, he had forgotten his pajamas.

He had to get them. Ray couldn’t run around his house only wearing a bathrobe, especially since he was going to sleep in the guestroom. Tony or Frannie might see him. How would he explain?

Hopefully Fraser will be asleep when he went to get his clothing from his bedroom, but deep down inside he knew his friend would be wide-awake. Of course he’ll be awake, after what Ray did to him he’ll probably never fall asleep again.

Ray had no choice.

Ray silently opened his bedroom door and furtively slipped in. He winced as Fraser called out his name in the dark.

"Ray."

"Look, Fraser. Don’t worry. I’d just came to get my pajamas and then I’ll be out of here. Okay?"

The detective quickly scurried to his closet to get his pajamas, but abruptly stopped when he heard Fraser speak again.

"Ray. I want you to stay, please."

"What?"

"I want you to stay. There is something I need to tell you."

The urgency in his friend’s voice scared Ray. Was the Mountie going to end their friendship over this incident? Why did he have to go and mess things up? Damn.

Ray panicked. "Look, I’m really sorry about what I’ve just done to you. I just thought you wanted…"

"No, Ray. I’m sorry I violated your privacy."

"Well, I was the one stupid enough to undress in front of you…"

"No, it’s not that. I mean, this past week in your room I have been, um, looking through your belongings."

"What? It’s my bedroom, Benny. My belongings are everywhere, how could ya not look at them?"

"I mean, I been looking through some of your boxes under your bed. I noticed them there when I was trying to sleep on my bedroll, and I was curious…"

"Damn! How could you sleep on that crappy bedroll when there’s a perfectly good bed in front of your face, Fraser."

"Aren’t you angry at me Ray?"

"What, for looking at my old useless junk? All ya had to do is ask."

"I didn’t think it was junk. I learned a lot about you this past week from those boxes, Ray."

"Like what?"

"I learned what a kind and passionate man you are, how you care about your family and friends, and that you’re incurable romantic."

The detective looked at him bewildered and blinked. "You learned that from my boxes of crap?"

"Ray, it’s not, um, crap."

The Italian stood there helplessly confused. Ray thought those boxes contained items of no importance to anyone but himself. He couldn’t understand why the Mountie would find them so important too.

"Ray, I knew I would miss you when you left, but I didn’t realize how much. To be honest, when my apartment was condemned I felt quite lost without you. But staying here helped me while you were gone."

"Oh jeez, Benny. I didn’t mean to leave like that. Lieutenant Welsh sprung this seminar thing on me and I had to quickly leave. And then I come home, wake you up, and flash you like some kind of pervert…"

"I’m glad you did, Ray. I have always wondered what you looked like…"

"What?"

Ray’s eyes widened and he stepped back in shock, almost tripping over Fraser’s lantern on the floor, but he quickly regained his footing and was staring at the Mountie again.

"Ray! Be careful!" Fraser pleaded.

But his friend ignored the warning, his personal safety the last thing on his mind.

"Benny? You’re not mad at me?"

"No, of course not. I could never be mad at you, not after that nice little display you gave me."

"I did it because it’s what I thought you wanted. I’d give you anything, do you understand? I would never hurt you."

"I already know. You’re my best friend, Ray. And when you were gone, I just couldn’t imagine my life without you. I’m really glad you’re back."

Ray smiled at him and sighed, relieved that their friendship was still intact.

"Well, Benny, I’m glad I’m back too."

Fraser now wanted to let his friend know more, that he now wanted him more than just as a best friend. He had to tell Ray now, or never tell him at all.

The Mountie struggled with his next words. "Ray, I have come to recognize this past week that I’m in love with you. I’m sorry if that offends you, but I do."

"You do? Oh my God! It doesn’t offend me at all. You love me? Oh thank God."

Fraser gasped and then beamed at his friend when he knew Ray felt the same way about him in that statement. He felt bolder now, still wanting more.

"Ray, lying in your bed has made me realize how much I want you."

Ray was stunned. Handsome Benny can have anyone he wants in Chicago, but instead he wanted Ray.

"You want me? Are you sure Fraser?"

"Yes, Ray. I’m very sure."

Ray stared at him unbelieving. "You actually want me? Me?"

Why won’t Ray believe him?

Fraser sat up in bed and kicked off the heavy covers, and then lifted his sweatshirt up over his head now revealing the broad white chest.

"Benny!"

Grinning, the Mountie quickly lifted his butt to pull off the sweatpants and white boxers in one smooth motion. He happily tossed them aside.

Fraser now sat there breathing, with his strong legs spread and arms reaching out.

"This is how much I want you Ray."

Ray gaped at the handsome naked man on his bed; the strong ivory body and the towering pale erection all waiting for him, all for him in his own bed.

"Ray?"

"Oh my God."

Ray staggered to his bed staring wide-eyed at his friend and his wonderful, uncut cock. He was really glad he came home.

The detective yanked his robe open and off his body, letting it silently drop to the floor around his feet. Ray climbed onto his bed, approaching his friend timidly and slowly on all fours. He was still not sure about this.

"Ray, please now!" The fiery plea was now too unbearable for the detective to hear.

He fell into the cradle of Fraser’s arms and legs, and the Mountie swiftly pulled him in with a cry of relief.

The immediate contact of their flesh was just all too much at once for both men, and they gasped simultaneously. Fraser softly laughed at their melodramatic reaction, and he gently tugged the sleek shaven head towards his mouth.

The kiss was shy at first and quite tender; lips introducing lips gingerly, but the sheer want of each other drove their mouths wide open and they began smoothly sliding their tongues in unison, learning each other in a very new and wet way.

The Mountie’s large hands slid down the narrow back of his friend to gently cup the small firm buttocks, and he pulled the Italian hard against him, melding warmly with him.

Ray flinched as their cocks lightly brushed together, and he urgently hiked his hips forward for more impact.

"Ray, oh yes. Ray. Ray." Fraser now reciprocated his friend’s sweet fluid motions, now meeting Ray stroke for stroke.

The two lovers wove about each other like snakes, reveling in the sleek feel of each other’s flesh and the silk sheets against their bare bodies.

An enthusiastic Fraser almost slipped off the silky-slippery bed, and Ray had to quickly seize him before he toppled out over the edge. The Italian yanked him back in again into his arms, softly laughing. "Come back here, you little rascal."

"Ray."

Fraser covered the cunning Italian mouth with his own, his tongue slipping inside the drenched heat and breathing in the gasping breaths of his lover, taking all of him in as much as possible. His mouth then slowly traced the elegant contours of Ray’s long neck and his delicate collarbone.

He felt those slim graceful hands run up and down the length of his body, lovingly smoothing out his flanks and hips and ribs. Fraser felt true love in that caress.

They fumbled for each other in the dark, their hands and mouths blindly reaching for anything in the swirl of their arms and legs and glossy satin sheets.

At first, the silk sheets seemed very pleasing, but soon they became a slick hindrance as the two men kept slipping and sliding away from each other. And the more they tried for each other, the more further from their goal they came.

It was like fucking on thin ice.

Fraser was now wildly grinding himself and his uncut cock against Ray’s sharp hip, and the detective squirmed about trying to fully face his lover to only slip further away down the sheets. He struggled to climb up the pale broad body.

It was so damn frustrating it was sexy.

Loosing his leverage once again, Ray felt himself slide down and Fraser was now humping Ray’s armpit, his cock fervently pumping inside.

This was just getting a little too bizarre, even for him.

Ray tried to worm his way up, but his friend’s frantic thrusting had him literally off the bed. He now felt Fraser’s cock pushing up against his long neck and then his head.

"Uh, Benny? Benny?"

The Canadian was luxuriating in the bristly feel along his hard shaft as it slithered smoothly against the soft peach-fuzz head… Huh? Fraser abruptly stopped as he realized that he was actually fucking Ray’s head. Oh dear.

"Ray?"

He felt slight movement from down below, and then suddenly his shaft was encased in hot, wet velvet. Ray was now sucking him.

"Oh God, Ray!"

The smooth head quickly lifted up and urgently whispered, "Shhh. You have to be quiet, okay? It’s my fault, Benny, I should have gave you a warning…"

"Please, Ray. Suck me, please. I promise to be quiet. Please."

"Word of a Mountie?"

Before Fraser could answer, he felt that luscious mouth greedily take him in again, and he bit his lip to stifle yet another scream.

He felt himself slip way down Ray’s throat, and the slick gliding of that tongue along the underside of his shaft, caressing him and making him feel well-loved.

How could he be quiet when Ray practically gobbled him up?

Ray tasted the pale length of him, ravenously drawing out his flavors.

Ray his lover. Ray the glutton.

The eager mouth now lapped at his balls, taking each one in turn to be equally suckled and nurtured; nobody was left out. Then there was the gentle brush of fingertips against his delicate tissue-paper scrotum, only to be followed by feathery soft kisses.

Fraser was then heartily swallowed again, and devoured. Ray’s magic tongue was dancing on his cock, swirling and moving on him in sympathetic sorcery.

He fisted the sheets under the wet ravishment; the scream stuck in his throat was now translated into the violent shaking of his body.

The generous mouth left his cock and spoke, "You okay, Benny?"

"Ray. Now. Now. Now, I need it now…"

Ray clamped down hard on him and he instantly came, spilling himself out into that heated mouth with a soft, stifled cry.

Did he actually hear Ray swallow?

He really couldn’t tell with all his blood now drained from his brain to accommodate his organ’s own persistent demands during an orgasm.

Fraser weakly lifted his head and looked to Ray, and saw that his lover was about to topple off the precipice of his bed.

"Ray."

He reached down and quickly pulled up the Italian by his arms like a rag doll, their bodies now flush against each other and finally face to face.

"You almost slipped away, Ray."

"I’m glad you finally noticed, Benny. I suggest you hold on to me this time, okay love?"

Fraser spun their bodies over and pinned his lean friend underneath him.

"Ahh. That’s much better, Fraser."

Laughing, the Mountie got up on all fours and stared down at slight form breathing under him, now gazing up at him with loving green eyes. Fraser gently grabbed the narrow hips and flipped Ray’s body over onto his stomach.

Fraser bent down and kissed the back of the close-cropped head, delighting in the prickly feel on his lips. His mouth traveled down the long graceful neck and to the smooth shoulders, nipping and licking the satin skin and enjoying the tender flesh between his teeth.

"Oh God, Fraser. What are you doing to me?"

"I’m tasting you, Ray."

The Mountie slipped his large hand between the soft thighs of his partner and he lightly stroked Ray’s balls. His fingers then gently slipped up and down the crack of his lover’s ass, barely touching it at all, teasing the sensitive surface.

Ray shivered and buried his face into the sheets moaning, his hips now driving deep into the mattress.

Fraser flipped the thin body over again, and affectionately regarded his lover while he contemplated his choices as if Ray was an open menu.

Bending down, his tongue traced warm wet circles around his lover’s flat brown nipples and gently tugged on the small nubs between his teeth. The Mountie now felt two slender hands carding through his dark hair and drawing his head down towards the breast in his mouth.

Fraser began to suck earnestly.

Ray breathed heavily, "Damn you, Benny. Oh my God."

Fraser’s hand stroked the nearly concave belly, quivering and then suddenly tensing under his soft touch. Ray rapidly slapped his hand away and Fraser looked up.

"Ray?"

Ray stared up at him wide-eyed, his mouth pressed in a slight grin and he wrapped his thin arm around his stomach.

"Are you ticklish Ray? Hmm?" The Canadian had a wicked gleam in his eye.

Before the detective could answer, Fraser attacked the smooth belly with his fingers and watched amused as the wiry form giggled and wiggled underneath him.

Ray was now breathless under the ticklish assault. "Damn it, Frasier. Stop it. Oh God, I’m going to get you…" Fraser only continued his cruel and unusual punishment some more.

Now defeated, Ray instantly curled his body up into a tight little ball, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping them tight within his arms, and he was now lying on his side panting.

He reminded Fraser of an armadillo fending off a predator’s attack.

"Do you want me to stop tickling you, Ray?"

His friend quickly nodded his head and then buried his face into the sheets, still breathing hard. Fraser lovingly gazed down upon the twisted, tiny form underneath him. Poor Ray, he had never looked so adorable.

"Okay. I’ll stop." The Mountie went to untangle his partner, but he wouldn’t budge from his defensive position.

"Please, Ray. I promise to be good."

Ray mumbled into the sheets, "You promise, Benny?"

"Yes Ray, I promise."

Ray looked up at him still a little doubtful, not willing to open up his body yet. "Word of a Mountie?"

"You have my word. Come Ray, I want to make love to you."

The Italian turned over smiling, and spread himself open like a blooming flower for his lover, very much like springtime.

"Oh God, Ray. You’re too beautiful."

Fraser pressed himself into the pliant body, now feeling it wrap and coil around him firmly like burning vines of wild ivy. He was amazed at the amount of heat generated by the Italian, fiery like a furnace, the slight frame a source of energy and light.

He roughly pushed himself against the slim body, sinking it deep into the mattress, feeling his lover moan under his weight. Fraser threw himself into the fire.

"Benny. Oh yeah, Benny."

Fraser now thrusted firmly and recklessly against his lover, wanting to feel that taboo bliss again when Ray mouthed his cock. He wanted that feeling back.

His sweet Ray happily obliged.

Ray’s smooth shaven head now hung over the side of the bed, his body being slowly nudged off the mattress by the Mountie’s vigorous pounding.

His thin arms flung around Fraser’s neck to keep him from sliding off the silky-sleek sheets. He didn’t want to end up on the floor… well, unless the Mountie joined him there.

Short, violent gasps escaped from Ray’s mouth, now slightly parted as if on a low scream. His long, slender legs wrapped tightly around the white body of his partner, his ankles locked behind the small of the broad back.

The Italian whispered between his sharp breaths, "God Benny, please, harder. Fuck me harder. Harder, oh God, please…"

Fraser rode the lank body more fiercely, making upon it the immemorial plunging motions of the sexual act.

"Ray, Ray, Ray…"

"Shhh, Benny. Quietly, love."

Fraser’s frantic head was thrown back, his hair as dark as the aura of the bedroom. Fraser clenched the sheets for support, wanting to give to Ray as much of himself as he possibly can; feeling like that he never can, now matter how hard he tried.

"Ray, Oh God. Yes, Ray! Ray!"

"Shhh."

Ray arched his pelvis upward repeatedly, making full cock-to-cock contact with the bucking Mountie.

The Italian felt that liquid fire rush from every limb in his body straight down to his cock, warning him now that his time has come.

Ray couldn’t believe Benny was fucking him in his own bed! He hoped it wouldn’t be the last time. Next time he’ll get flannel sheets for better traction.

A desire to scream like a banshee rose in him, but Ray damped it down. There were other occupants of the house to consider. Ray bit down on his lower lip and let out a long, faint whimper as he wetly came, splashing all over himself and his lover.

Fraser, on the other hand, decided to let out a wolf-like howl and Ray had to quickly slap his hand over the Mountie’s mouth to muzzle him and muffle his loud wail.

Oh God! Oh God! Hope nobody heard him! Oh God!

Ray squeezed his eyes shut, torn between his orgasm and his fear of being caught. That exotic combination made him quite breathless and stunned.

Fraser hung above him, riding out the very last of his aching spasms and hotly pouring himself out. He then slowly sank on the motionless Italian body.

They lay still for several moments, and then Fraser eased off from his lover and turned onto his spine. "I’m sorry for being loud, Ray."

The detective softly chuckled. "I should be flattered. Huh?"

"Um, yes Ray, you should."

"Thank you kindly, Benny."

They curled up together and quietly listened to each other’s breathing and the little creaks and cracks an old house makes as it settles with time in the silence of night.

"I’m beginning to get use to your bed, Ray."

"Hmm? That’s just great, Fraser."

Ray’s head suddenly jerked up and he yawned. He sat up in bed,stretched, and looked sorrowfully over at his sleepy partner.

"I have to leave Benny, okay? I have to sleep in the guest room."

"So soon, Ray?" The Mountie sat up to grasp his friend, not ready for this night to rudely end. Ray rewarded his woeful efforts with a deep kiss.

"Yeah, I don’t want to risk falling asleep in your arms, especially with Frannie eyeing your every move like a hawk. I not sure I can explain to my family how we wound up together in my bed."

"We can say that you had jet lag, and that you wasn’t in a stable state of mind and, that it was dark and you couldn’t see…"

"Jeez, Benny. I’m already having a bad influence on you, you’re too damn willing now to spew out all those lies."

The Mountie frowned.

Why is it that love makes him do all sorts of crazy things? He was glad and relieved that Ray wasn’t deeply disturbed like Victoria was.

Ray kissed his dark ruffled head, soothing away the troubled expression on his pale face.

"It will be okay, Benny. My main mission in life now is to get you in bed as much as humanly possible."

"Oh. That will be good."

The detective regarded his lover with an odd expression and laughed. "It better be good, Frasier."

One last kiss and the Italian reluctantly got up and went to the closet across the dark bedroom.

The Canadian watched him get dressed in a silent, holy appreciation of his splendor, now sadly being covered up by pajamas too big for his frame.

He preferred Ray naked all the time.

"I’ll see ya in the morning, Benny."

"Goodnight, Ray."

Ray unwillingly walked to the bedroom door. "Hey, maybe tomorrow night I’ll take you in your own bed."

"But you hate my bed, Ray."

"Damn it, Benny. I’d fuck you on top of burning hot coals."

The Italian quietly slipped out, and for the very first time this week Fraser slept peacefully in Ray’s bedroom.

Endnote: When it comes to diseased rat infestations, I’m not sure who really handles it. I guessed Public Health Safety?

I was really more concerned about finding a reason to get the Mountie to stay in Ray’s bedroom. I thought about burning his apartment down, but that’s been done before (I didn’t even like it then). So I came up with dirty diseased rats, since those guys at Alliance reminded me of…

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