New Fic: Sick Comfort (F/K)
Nov. 8th, 2006 11:54 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
bentrumors.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_slashPairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: NC-17
Summary: This started out as '5 hings Fraser had never done with his tongue before he met Ray' and sort of became '5 Things Fraser Will Still Lick When Ray's Sick', or just sick comfort sex fic. If you need a warning, that's probably it.
Note: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ashling_darcy for the quick beta.
Ray’s pretty sure it’s the fever, he must be hallucinating because Fraser is not hovering over him like some demented guardian angel. Normally, he’d be a perfectly decent guardian angel, Ray would give up the Goat if it meant keeping Fraser at his back, but the Mountie don’t look so good today. The stark whites of his eyes are making Ray’s headache worse and the smooth perfect forehead has a permanent red furrow from Fraser’s nail scraping his brow.
Ray lifts a feeble arm to bat at Not-Fraser’s hand so he stops scarring his pretty face. He’ll be ugly when Ray’s gone and it’s nice to think Fraser will miss him, but Ray doesn’t want Fraser to be alone. If Ray can’t have him, someone (besides Francesca) should.
“Told you to stay away.” He knows he’s talking to an empty room, but it’s been lonely. He doesn’t want to be alone when he dies, he hadn't actually expected Fraser to listen, but stupid Fraser had put on his stupid Mountie hat and said, "As you wish, Ray,” and left him.
That just sucks.
Now Ray really wishes he wasn’t hallucinating. He also wishes his mouth didn’t taste like ass, and that his throat actually burned from a gazillion shots of whiskey and not from puking his guts out for the last twenty-four hours, but mostly he wishes Fraser was really there putting a cold cloth on his forehead.
“That’s nice, Frase. Thanks.” He doesn’t want the last thing he says to Fraser to be good-bye.
Not-Fraser wipes his face and neck and Ray's fever-fried brain tricks him into believing it feels better. That strip of skin is cool and doesn’t feel sticky anymore and Ray would take back every mean thing he’s ever said to Fraser if he were really there. Fraser’s warm lips follow the rag and the queasiness Ray felt radiating out of his cold belly finally subsides and he feels his limbs again, tingling where Fraser is lightly running the cloth over more skin. Ray feels like he's fucking floating now, floating above his damp twisted sheets, and he unclenches his fists and lets himself go.
“Ray, Ray, Ray,” Fraser chants softly, licking up his chest and following the trickles of sweat along Ray’s ribs. It should be gross when Fraser licks his stinky armpit, but it feels good, Ray’s skin erupting in goosebumps. Fraser continues, kissing his way across Ray’s collarbone and nibbling over his jaw, then finally seeking Ray's mouth, but Ray can’t do that. Puke breath is not at all sexy.
“Whoa. Frase, I need--” Ray plants both hands on Fraser’s shoulders and pushes, weak as a kitten, but before he can say toothpaste, mouthwash, bleach--
Fraser's big hot hands push down Ray's shorts and the rush of cool air feels good. "Is that better, Ray?" Fraser is nuzzling his jaw again and it does feel better, the prickly stubble feels really fucking good scratching his own itchy face, but he can tell Fraser needs something in his mouth, pronto, because he’s nosing around for a kiss again.
"Hey," he grabs Fraser's head like he's talking to the wolf. “Suck me.”
Bingo! Fraser licks his lips like the wolf eyeing a donut, and then Fraser is spreading his legs and kissing his way down Ray's heaving chest and Ray needs this, he needs Fraser wringing the last of the fever out of him or he will die. For real this time.
Ray squirms helplessly, one big hand jacking him off, open-palmed against his belly while the other just. Jesus. Feels good back there. "Fraser, holy fuck!" And okay, so yeah, Fraser just wiped his ass for him, and there it is again, the wet cloth swiping behind his balls and across his asshole, and some might think it's humiliating, being treated like an invalid, but being eaten like a big juicy peach is hot and Fraser is hungry. He groans when Ray drops his legs over Fraser’s shoulders. He's burning up and Ray thinks he’s the one who’s sick, sweating and huffing, wanting so badly to plant his face in Ray’s crack.
“Do it,” Ray whispers, and fuck, heat sizzles up his spine and makes fresh sweat break out across his chest when Fraser sniffs under his balls. Hot breath exhaling, and then his tongue follows his nose. Fraser licks him all over, and then tongue in his ass, and Ray is wringing the sweaty sheets in his fists again, like it’s going to help the big puddle of Mountie drool soaking the sheet under him. He's panting and whining like Dief by the time Fraser eases a spit slick finger into him. Persistent pressure inside, then warm lips inviting him to come in Fraser’s beautiful dirty mouth. He's sliding over the edge, gentle and sweet, and then back to blissful sleep.
The last thing he feels is Fraser wrapping him up, stealing a nasty kiss when he’s drifting, and that's all the confirmation he needs that there really isn’t anything Fraser won’t do with his mouth. Which is good to know.
***
When he wakes again, Ray is burrowed deep in the comforter. Along with the smell of sex sweat and sick ick, he detects homemade chicken soup and pokes his nose out. Slowly extracting himself from the bedding, he surveys his stomach and finds he's finally not going to hurl, he is in fact hungry, and his stomach actually growls.
Diefenbaker growls back from the side of the bed.
“Hey, buddy.” Ray scratches him behind the ear.
“Hello, Ray,” Dief answers with Fraser’s voice.
Fraser is leaning in the doorway, rumpled and tired, and Ray reaches out to rub him too. “Nice trick.” Fraser lets himself be pulled back to bed, carefully balancing the mug of soup until Ray grabs it.
“I'm sorry, Ray," Fraser says.
Ray takes a sip, considering. “For coming back, for making soup, or for blowing my brains out?”
Fraser blushes. “Ray, my behavior was abhorrent. I took advantage--”
“Frase. I think I need a bath.” But instead of moving, Ray wraps the sheet around them and wrinkles his nose at the stench. “I reek.” Rhymes with freak.
Fraser relaxes and tightens his hold, audibly sniffing Ray's bedhead. “I find your scent…. intoxicating.”
“Smelly.”
Fraser licks the corner of his mouth. “Aromatic.”
“Stinky.”
“Pungent.”
“About my bath?”
Fraser lifts his head, dejected, from sniffing Ray’s neck.
“Use your tongue.”
Rating: NC-17
Summary: This started out as '5 hings Fraser had never done with his tongue before he met Ray' and sort of became '5 Things Fraser Will Still Lick When Ray's Sick', or just sick comfort sex fic. If you need a warning, that's probably it.
Note: Thanks to
ashling_darcy for the quick beta. Ray’s pretty sure it’s the fever, he must be hallucinating because Fraser is not hovering over him like some demented guardian angel. Normally, he’d be a perfectly decent guardian angel, Ray would give up the Goat if it meant keeping Fraser at his back, but the Mountie don’t look so good today. The stark whites of his eyes are making Ray’s headache worse and the smooth perfect forehead has a permanent red furrow from Fraser’s nail scraping his brow.
Ray lifts a feeble arm to bat at Not-Fraser’s hand so he stops scarring his pretty face. He’ll be ugly when Ray’s gone and it’s nice to think Fraser will miss him, but Ray doesn’t want Fraser to be alone. If Ray can’t have him, someone (besides Francesca) should.
“Told you to stay away.” He knows he’s talking to an empty room, but it’s been lonely. He doesn’t want to be alone when he dies, he hadn't actually expected Fraser to listen, but stupid Fraser had put on his stupid Mountie hat and said, "As you wish, Ray,” and left him.
That just sucks.
Now Ray really wishes he wasn’t hallucinating. He also wishes his mouth didn’t taste like ass, and that his throat actually burned from a gazillion shots of whiskey and not from puking his guts out for the last twenty-four hours, but mostly he wishes Fraser was really there putting a cold cloth on his forehead.
“That’s nice, Frase. Thanks.” He doesn’t want the last thing he says to Fraser to be good-bye.
Not-Fraser wipes his face and neck and Ray's fever-fried brain tricks him into believing it feels better. That strip of skin is cool and doesn’t feel sticky anymore and Ray would take back every mean thing he’s ever said to Fraser if he were really there. Fraser’s warm lips follow the rag and the queasiness Ray felt radiating out of his cold belly finally subsides and he feels his limbs again, tingling where Fraser is lightly running the cloth over more skin. Ray feels like he's fucking floating now, floating above his damp twisted sheets, and he unclenches his fists and lets himself go.
“Ray, Ray, Ray,” Fraser chants softly, licking up his chest and following the trickles of sweat along Ray’s ribs. It should be gross when Fraser licks his stinky armpit, but it feels good, Ray’s skin erupting in goosebumps. Fraser continues, kissing his way across Ray’s collarbone and nibbling over his jaw, then finally seeking Ray's mouth, but Ray can’t do that. Puke breath is not at all sexy.
“Whoa. Frase, I need--” Ray plants both hands on Fraser’s shoulders and pushes, weak as a kitten, but before he can say toothpaste, mouthwash, bleach--
Fraser's big hot hands push down Ray's shorts and the rush of cool air feels good. "Is that better, Ray?" Fraser is nuzzling his jaw again and it does feel better, the prickly stubble feels really fucking good scratching his own itchy face, but he can tell Fraser needs something in his mouth, pronto, because he’s nosing around for a kiss again.
"Hey," he grabs Fraser's head like he's talking to the wolf. “Suck me.”
Bingo! Fraser licks his lips like the wolf eyeing a donut, and then Fraser is spreading his legs and kissing his way down Ray's heaving chest and Ray needs this, he needs Fraser wringing the last of the fever out of him or he will die. For real this time.
Ray squirms helplessly, one big hand jacking him off, open-palmed against his belly while the other just. Jesus. Feels good back there. "Fraser, holy fuck!" And okay, so yeah, Fraser just wiped his ass for him, and there it is again, the wet cloth swiping behind his balls and across his asshole, and some might think it's humiliating, being treated like an invalid, but being eaten like a big juicy peach is hot and Fraser is hungry. He groans when Ray drops his legs over Fraser’s shoulders. He's burning up and Ray thinks he’s the one who’s sick, sweating and huffing, wanting so badly to plant his face in Ray’s crack.
“Do it,” Ray whispers, and fuck, heat sizzles up his spine and makes fresh sweat break out across his chest when Fraser sniffs under his balls. Hot breath exhaling, and then his tongue follows his nose. Fraser licks him all over, and then tongue in his ass, and Ray is wringing the sweaty sheets in his fists again, like it’s going to help the big puddle of Mountie drool soaking the sheet under him. He's panting and whining like Dief by the time Fraser eases a spit slick finger into him. Persistent pressure inside, then warm lips inviting him to come in Fraser’s beautiful dirty mouth. He's sliding over the edge, gentle and sweet, and then back to blissful sleep.
The last thing he feels is Fraser wrapping him up, stealing a nasty kiss when he’s drifting, and that's all the confirmation he needs that there really isn’t anything Fraser won’t do with his mouth. Which is good to know.
***
When he wakes again, Ray is burrowed deep in the comforter. Along with the smell of sex sweat and sick ick, he detects homemade chicken soup and pokes his nose out. Slowly extracting himself from the bedding, he surveys his stomach and finds he's finally not going to hurl, he is in fact hungry, and his stomach actually growls.
Diefenbaker growls back from the side of the bed.
“Hey, buddy.” Ray scratches him behind the ear.
“Hello, Ray,” Dief answers with Fraser’s voice.
Fraser is leaning in the doorway, rumpled and tired, and Ray reaches out to rub him too. “Nice trick.” Fraser lets himself be pulled back to bed, carefully balancing the mug of soup until Ray grabs it.
“I'm sorry, Ray," Fraser says.
Ray takes a sip, considering. “For coming back, for making soup, or for blowing my brains out?”
Fraser blushes. “Ray, my behavior was abhorrent. I took advantage--”
“Frase. I think I need a bath.” But instead of moving, Ray wraps the sheet around them and wrinkles his nose at the stench. “I reek.” Rhymes with freak.
Fraser relaxes and tightens his hold, audibly sniffing Ray's bedhead. “I find your scent…. intoxicating.”
“Smelly.”
Fraser licks the corner of his mouth. “Aromatic.”
“Stinky.”
“Pungent.”
“About my bath?”
Fraser lifts his head, dejected, from sniffing Ray’s neck.
“Use your tongue.”
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no subject
Date: 2006-11-09 02:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-09 05:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-10 08:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-11 04:06 am (UTC)Loved that line! *g*
no subject
Date: 2006-11-12 09:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-24 03:24 am (UTC)Or to put it another way, I found this both hot and remarkably un-squicky (though it probably would've been if it'd been anyone other than Fraser), and I appreciated what you did with it.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-10 02:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-10 02:58 pm (UTC)I aim to please. *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-02-10 02:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-10 02:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-10 02:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-10 03:00 pm (UTC)Exactly! *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-04-18 07:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-18 05:40 pm (UTC)