Fic: Fantasy, F/K, NC17
Jun. 6th, 2006 12:18 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
capella-fic.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_slashTitle: Fantasy
Pairing: RayK/Fraser
Rating: NC17
Notes: No idea where this one came from. Another 867 words of pointless smut. Also a sequel of sorts to Obsession.
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elfscribe5
You'd think when someone’s getting laid as regularly - and as thoroughly - as Ray is, it would kind of put the brakes on his fantasy life. There's got to be a limit to how much of the brain is dedicated to fucking, after all.
Ray's discovering that this assumption is so far from the truth it's not even funny.
Who was it who said, if you're not getting enough you want more, and if you're getting too much you want more? And what about the old one that claims the average man thinks about sex once every ten seconds? Ray used to think that was ridiculous. Now he'd have to confess it was probably true - on a slow day.
He can't remember thinking about it this much when he was a teenager. Of course, in those days he didn't have a clue what he was missing. And let's face it, if someone had tried to enlighten him, he'd have told them to get the fuck out of there, or punched them in the mouth, or quite possibly both.
There's just no way he could have been prepared for this.
At least he's not on his own. On Thursday Fraser managed to piss the Ice Queen off so badly she had him standing sentry duty for the entire day. Later that night, once he'd taken his frustrations out on Ray in the best possible way, Ray asked him how much of the time he'd spent thinking about sex. He hadn't wanted to say, but Ray's learned something in the last few weeks and he doesn't take that evasive shit any more. So he kept at it until Fraser rubbed his eyebrow - funny how he could still look so uptight, naked in the middle of Ray's bed with Ray draped all over his chest - and admitted, "Approximately eighty-five percent, I should say."
And Ray hadn't teased him any more about it, but just kissed him and said, "Is that all?"
So when Ray's not running through a replay of something they've actually done - the way Fraser's thighs tense and then shudder when Ray blows him, perhaps, or waking this morning with Fraser's hand already wrapped around him and working up a rhythm - he's imagining things they're going to do in the future, and quite a few that aren't even physically possible, but would be pretty fucking spectacular if they were.
He's got his personal favourites. Fraser pushing him down over the hood of the Goat, one wide hand in the middle of his back holding him still while Fraser fucks him hard, and Ray's so hot for it he's not even worrying about the paint job. Or the two of them together on a warm summer beach - and that one would be embarrassingly romantic if a large part of it didn’t involve him scrabbling his fingers in the sand while he shoves himself back and forth on six inches of solid Mountie cock and tries to stop himself screaming for more.
He knows that fantasising is natural, and since every scenario features Fraser anyway, there's nothing to feel guilty about. But sometimes it just gets weird. Like when he thinks about how good it would be if Fraser had three arms instead of two, or maybe even four (like that Indian god with the sexy hips who's always got a look of ecstasy on his face - and no wonder, really, when you think about it.) It doesn't seem fair to Fraser to think that way, given that the two hands he's already got are capable of performing miracles - whittling a caribou out of a block of wood in two minutes flat, or reducing Ray to a useless wreck in considerably less. But with a couple of extras on the job, he could pin Ray's wrists and work both nipples at once while his mouth got down to business, and still be able to ram two fingers up Ray's ass at the same time. Ray's got to be a freak for even thinking it, but Jesus, talk about hot.
So it’s never going to happen, but the principle’s a good one, and there’s more than one way to skin a snowshoe hare, as Frase would say. Ray's never thought much about sex toys before, but he can certainly see the point of them now. And his handcuffs could take care of things as far as the wrists are concerned -
His handcuffs. That's another little conversation he needs to have with Fraser someday very soon.
Ray rolls onto his back, kicking the mess of sheets down the bed. He may not have Mountie super-senses, but he can't miss the ripe smell of sex and sweat that's practically filling the room. And yeah, like he really needs anything else to make him hard. He groans, runs his hands down over his belly, grabs for his dick with one and his balls with the other, and starts to get into the beat.
It shouldn't even be possible to do it three times before his first cup of morning coffee - not at his age - but it has to be worth a try.
Pairing: RayK/Fraser
Rating: NC17
Notes: No idea where this one came from. Another 867 words of pointless smut. Also a sequel of sorts to Obsession.
Beta:
elfscribe5Fantasy
You'd think when someone’s getting laid as regularly - and as thoroughly - as Ray is, it would kind of put the brakes on his fantasy life. There's got to be a limit to how much of the brain is dedicated to fucking, after all.
Ray's discovering that this assumption is so far from the truth it's not even funny.
Who was it who said, if you're not getting enough you want more, and if you're getting too much you want more? And what about the old one that claims the average man thinks about sex once every ten seconds? Ray used to think that was ridiculous. Now he'd have to confess it was probably true - on a slow day.
He can't remember thinking about it this much when he was a teenager. Of course, in those days he didn't have a clue what he was missing. And let's face it, if someone had tried to enlighten him, he'd have told them to get the fuck out of there, or punched them in the mouth, or quite possibly both.
There's just no way he could have been prepared for this.
At least he's not on his own. On Thursday Fraser managed to piss the Ice Queen off so badly she had him standing sentry duty for the entire day. Later that night, once he'd taken his frustrations out on Ray in the best possible way, Ray asked him how much of the time he'd spent thinking about sex. He hadn't wanted to say, but Ray's learned something in the last few weeks and he doesn't take that evasive shit any more. So he kept at it until Fraser rubbed his eyebrow - funny how he could still look so uptight, naked in the middle of Ray's bed with Ray draped all over his chest - and admitted, "Approximately eighty-five percent, I should say."
And Ray hadn't teased him any more about it, but just kissed him and said, "Is that all?"
So when Ray's not running through a replay of something they've actually done - the way Fraser's thighs tense and then shudder when Ray blows him, perhaps, or waking this morning with Fraser's hand already wrapped around him and working up a rhythm - he's imagining things they're going to do in the future, and quite a few that aren't even physically possible, but would be pretty fucking spectacular if they were.
He's got his personal favourites. Fraser pushing him down over the hood of the Goat, one wide hand in the middle of his back holding him still while Fraser fucks him hard, and Ray's so hot for it he's not even worrying about the paint job. Or the two of them together on a warm summer beach - and that one would be embarrassingly romantic if a large part of it didn’t involve him scrabbling his fingers in the sand while he shoves himself back and forth on six inches of solid Mountie cock and tries to stop himself screaming for more.
He knows that fantasising is natural, and since every scenario features Fraser anyway, there's nothing to feel guilty about. But sometimes it just gets weird. Like when he thinks about how good it would be if Fraser had three arms instead of two, or maybe even four (like that Indian god with the sexy hips who's always got a look of ecstasy on his face - and no wonder, really, when you think about it.) It doesn't seem fair to Fraser to think that way, given that the two hands he's already got are capable of performing miracles - whittling a caribou out of a block of wood in two minutes flat, or reducing Ray to a useless wreck in considerably less. But with a couple of extras on the job, he could pin Ray's wrists and work both nipples at once while his mouth got down to business, and still be able to ram two fingers up Ray's ass at the same time. Ray's got to be a freak for even thinking it, but Jesus, talk about hot.
So it’s never going to happen, but the principle’s a good one, and there’s more than one way to skin a snowshoe hare, as Frase would say. Ray's never thought much about sex toys before, but he can certainly see the point of them now. And his handcuffs could take care of things as far as the wrists are concerned -
His handcuffs. That's another little conversation he needs to have with Fraser someday very soon.
Ray rolls onto his back, kicking the mess of sheets down the bed. He may not have Mountie super-senses, but he can't miss the ripe smell of sex and sweat that's practically filling the room. And yeah, like he really needs anything else to make him hard. He groans, runs his hands down over his belly, grabs for his dick with one and his balls with the other, and starts to get into the beat.
It shouldn't even be possible to do it three times before his first cup of morning coffee - not at his age - but it has to be worth a try.
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no subject
Date: 2006-06-06 12:27 am (UTC)*feels put out that I just HAD to read more hot porn*
no subject
Date: 2006-06-06 02:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-06 04:55 am (UTC)I love your Ray characterization, too, I should add. Many great, quotable lines.
He's got his personal favourites. Fraser pushing him down over the hood of the Goat, one wide hand in the middle of his back holding him still while Fraser fucks him hard, and Ray's so hot for it he's not even worrying about the paint job.
Hee! Yay! Paint jobs can be redone. Ray's got his priorities, er, straight. :)
The whole bit about the Indian god--funny and hot and so Ray. Hee! And handcuffs to come! Yeow!
no subject
Date: 2006-06-06 06:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-06 06:12 pm (UTC)You should definitely write much, much more of this.
Thanks! But I was thinking of trying to write something with a bit of plot, next time.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-06 06:33 pm (UTC)*Is positively incandescent* Thank you. Again, I'm somewhat relieved that you think so.
The whole bit about the Indian god--funny and hot and so Ray.
I did wonder whether that was a bit out in the left field, but it amused me. You and
(I visited the Asian Arts museum in San Francisco last summer, and tried to be very highbrow in my response. In fact I came out of there totally consumed by the idea of sex with a multi-armed god of love, complete with that serene smile and yeah, sexy hips...)
And handcuffs to come! Yeow!
I was thinking of writing the handcuffs bit next, but I see that
Thanks, once more, for your encouraging words. :-)
no subject
Date: 2006-06-06 07:31 pm (UTC)It will just mean that I have to stay up late tonight to finish my last paper. You would think that at age 44, I would be able to prioritize better - you know, studies come first but NO - now that I am in the ds arena it's pr0n pr0n pr0n all the time. Even when I say I'm taking a break from the boys.
*is sad at own self and said self's lack of SELF CONTROL*
no subject
Date: 2006-06-06 08:21 pm (UTC)Well, what's wrong with everybody else? LOL
no subject
Date: 2006-06-06 09:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-06 10:30 pm (UTC)At least you're not alone. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2006-06-06 10:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-08 08:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-08 09:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-10 09:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-10 09:34 pm (UTC)