Waiting to Fall Thank you, Brooklinegirl, for rocking as a beta.
Written for Anna, on her birthday, with love.
Ray has to take a few deep breaths before his head clears. It doesn’t help, but it steadies him, just a bit, as he is poised over Fraser. It’s pitch dark, but his eyes are used to it now, and he can make out the picture in front of him.
He is leaned so close over Fraser that he only sees a snapshot of the whole image, but it’s more than enough. The cock-ring is wrapped around the base of Fraser’s dick. Fraser is so hard, Ray almost feels bad. Almost. He can’t quite manage it. Guilt is completely overshadowed by heat and lust and the pounding in his ears. He’s hard, himself, but he hardly notices that he’s on the brink, because so is Fraser. And Fraser has been there for a while.
Ray twists the plug a little, just at the right angle, and listens as Fraser gasps.
Again. A small twist, but just enough to drive Fraser out of his mind. Sweat pours over Ray, his skin tingles with it. He feels a single drop slide down his cheek. It catches on the edge of his chin, pauses, and then slips onto Fraser’s hip, right down into the hollow. Ray gives the plug another twist and leans in. He licks the single trail clean off Fraser’s skin, his tongue stopping just short of Fraser’s cock.
Fraser moans, all vowel sounds, like his mouth won’t shape words anymore. Ray can tell this is killing him. This is driving him totally crazy.
Another twist. Fraser’s abdomen tenses, for the thousandth time. Ray can just make out the shuddering. While his own movements are almost – nearly – controlled, Fraser’s aren’t. He’s never seen Fraser this far gone, this unable to do anything but shudder and shake and moan. He is so far gone, he can’t even say Ray’s name. All that comes stuttering out is a sort of after-thought, a sound after the fact, a breath.
Ray loves hearing Fraser gasp, he loves it even more than he loves hearing Fraser say his name, so he pulls the plug out, slowly – slowly – and twists it back in, faster.
Yes.
He squeezes his stinging eyes shut, then blinks to open them. One lick - just a single, slow lick to the head of Fraser’s cock – and Fraser shakes so hard, Ray is surprised the bed doesn’t fall apart. The sheets are in disarray, and they reek of sex. Of Fraser and his skin and his sweat. Ray breathes in.
Another lick.
“Fu- ahh- God --”
Fraser is shuddering, he is just shaking under Ray’s hands. Ray lifts his head and attempts a grin, but it doesn’t quite form. He doesn’t know how long he intends to keep Fraser like this, but he does know that with his hands tied to the headboard and the plug inside him, Fraser isn’t going anywhere.
Neither is Ray.
They’re both staying put, right here, right where Ray wants them. Maybe they’ll stay like this, on the very brink, for the rest of their lives. The world can go and disappear and end for all he cares, but he will stay right here, hovering over Fraser, driving him out of the rest of his mind, one slow-fast twist at a time.
And another.
And another.
Fraser’s cock is so much darker now, Ray begins to feel twinges of guilt again. Maybe he should end this. Maybe he should let Fraser come already, let him come his brains out. The release might take nearly as long as the build-up.
Or maybe – another twist of his hand, another shudder of Fraser’s body, another break in Fraser’s voice – he could keep him like this for a week. Maybe even just a day. Staying exactly like this, in the dark, in the heat, on the brink. The only reason Ray hasn’t come yet is that he’s been careful to keep his own cock from touching anything. But he’s been torturing Fraser’s. It has only been a half an hour, forty minutes tops, but it’s felt like an eternity to him. He can’t begin to imagine what it has felt like to Fraser.
He knows that once this is over, Fraser will make him find out. Maybe not right away, maybe not for a month, but eventually, this will be him, tied up, tied down, helpless and out of his mind. He knows Fraser well enough. So he keeps him at bay. He keeps him where Ray is in charge, just for a little bit. Just for a little – tiny – twist –
“Ray-- please --” Fraser manages to gasp out the two words, and Ray looks up again, tries to make out Fraser’s face in the all-encompassing darkness. He wants to kiss him so badly, wants to drown in his mouth, but he can’t let go of this, not now. Just a little longer-- just a little-- tiny-- bit --
“Please,” Fraser chokes out again, and Ray’s gut clenches.
Enough.
Another twist, and then he leans down to take the swollen head of Fraser’s cock in his mouth. Keeping the plug moving inside, Ray flutters his tongue against the vein on the underside of Fraser’s cock and unclasps the leather strap.
It takes less than a second, but he’s been ready for it. He’s been ready for a long time. Fraser almost heaves them both off the bed and his cry nearly breaks Ray’s heart. Ray swallows around him, closes his eyes and attempts to breathe in and out. This seems to last a whole other eternity, and in the end, he can’t take it all. He breaks off and takes gulping breaths, his forehead resting heavy on Fraser’s damp hip. He keeps his hand moving over Fraser, wringing more desperate cries from him.
Ray is shaking. They both are, he realizes, and he can feel everything moving, the whole world is shuddering under him, and he’s dizzy, he’s fucking delirious.
For minutes afterwards, all he can hear is his heartbeat and Fraser’s frantic breathing. When he finally regains control and moves to slide the plug out of Fraser, his cock bumps against Fraser’s thigh and he shudders. Clumsily, he fumbles upwards to untie Fraser’s hands, and he can’t see anything, and his fingers just won’t listen, and he curses. He tries to grab hold of a single knot, and keeps missing, and he curses again, because he’s gotta have Fraser, he wants Fraser, he wants him so bad, and it takes a while for Fraser’s voice to even penetrate through the haze in his head:
“Ray-- Ray, come-- come up, come --”
He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t know what Fraser means, and then he finally catches a glimpse of Fraser’s face in the darkness. He stops his futile attempts at the knots and clambers up the bed. Swings a leg over Fraser’s chest and walks the rest of the way on his knees, his skin burning against the rough sheets, the insides of his thighs gliding against the sweat on Fraser’s torso. He’s so hard, he can barely see straight. But he can’t look away from Fraser’s eyes, can’t do anything but move forward, can’t even say a single word.
Fraser lifts his gaze to Ray’s and opens up his lips. And pauses. Ray can feel Fraser’s warm breath hovering over the head of his cock. He wants to thrust in, he wants to climb inside Fraser and stay there forever, and it feels like forever -- perched on the very edge, like he’s waiting to fall, wanting to fall, and being unable to because gravity is against him.
After a long moment in which Ray loses his mind ten times over and forgets to breathe, Fraser finally flicks out his tongue and licks the head. Ray almost falls. On instinct, his hands fly out and he braces himself against the wall. Fraser’s lips touch his cock next – gentle, unhurried, light touches, back and forth, across his skin. Ray hisses and leans his forehead against the cool wall, his single purchase. He doesn’t know how much more he can take.
Then Fraser opens his lips and sucks Ray in, and nothing is gentle anymore. All he can do is try not to scream and ride the rhythm that Fraser’s mouth has set for him. He moves his hips, just a bit, just enough that Fraser’s tongue reaches where it feels best, just enough for Ray to stay on the edge just a little bit longer.
And then, Fraser moans against his skin, presses his tongue harder just – there – and Ray can’t hold on any longer. He can barely feel his toes as he comes, gulping for air, shuddering against Fraser’s face.
When he’s certain that his legs will do what he needs them to, his hands slipping against the damp wall, Ray slides back onto Fraser’s chest, straddling him. His fingers and toes tingle. His ears ring in the silence.
When he can focus again, he looks down into Fraser’s face. His eyes are closed, and a small furrow creases the space between his eyebrows. He’s breathing through his mouth, long, uneven breaths that escape from between his teeth. Ray can feel the rhythm of them in Fraser’s chest, against his thighs. Even in the dark, he can make out the livid flush that always appears on Fraser’s cheeks after sex. Ray traces the shape of it with his finger, lingers at the jaw line. He shakily reaches over to untie Fraser’s wrists.
It takes only a bit less time than tying him up did, but at least he manages it this time. As soon as his hands are free, Fraser grabs Ray’s waist. Hard. Ray has to force himself not to yelp. Fraser’s fingers dig in, just this side of pain, and he opens his eyes.
Ray waits. He doesn’t know what to expect, and for the first time this night he wonders if maybe he didn’t go too far.
Fraser still doesn’t say anything as his hands slide up Ray’s sides, his gaze following their path: up and up and over his chest, where they finally settle. Ray can feel all ten fingers burning into his skin, and waits. He isn’t sure he can talk.
“That was -- that was,” Fraser finally says. His voice is shattered. Ray waits for more, but nothing follows. He tries to peer into Fraser’s eyes, figure out what he’s thinking. It proves to be nearly impossible, right up until the point where one side of Fraser’s mouth quirks up, and Ray exhales.
“Yep,” he answers, keeping his tone light, and settles his own hands on Fraser’s body.
“Yes.”
Fraser closes his eyes and lets his hands fall to his chest, which Ray easily recognizes as his falling-asleep position. Released, Ray scoots down and settles himself on top of Fraser. His lets their legs tangle, and his hands slip under Fraser’s cooling shoulders.
In a minute, he will roll over, and attempt to straighten out the sheets around Fraser, and wash up what needs washing up. For now, though, he’ll just lie right here, and listen to Fraser’s heart beat, now slow and steady, and count to a hundred.
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