Part 3 ~ Saturday 9 April 1994
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Part 3 ~ Saturday 9 April 1994 |
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Four in the morning and Ray was lying awake, staring at the ceiling of Ben’s spare bedroom. He had been asleep, but an hour ago he’d been roused by the sound of Ben moving around and that was that: he was a very light sleeper and once disturbed in the night he struggled to get back to sleep. Be honest, Vecchio. When he’d heard the noise he’d assumed that Ben was coming in to him, and it scared Ray to realise how much he wanted that. And how had Ben even known he could make any kind of move? Did he just hit on every male he met and hope there’d be one or two gay men in there? Was there an un-mixed signal Ray was radiating in the Mountie’s presence? Ray groaned. Ben was just so…everything. In better circumstances, Ben could have… He could… Ray’s mind went there, and he immediately cursed himself. Now he was fully awake and, to his dismay, hard in seconds. But no Ben. He should’ve known. After the histrionics, it had turned out to be a very
pleasant evening. Ben had eventually released Ray from the bear-hug and let him
cook, playing at being the chef’s assistant and feigning ignorance of all
things gastronomic in a ploy to get Ray to talk, even if it was only about
favourite recipes. After a truly splendid meal Ben had launched into a series
of anecdotes that had allowed Ray to forget his problems and wallow in the
sense of familiarity that this man seemed able to evoke. Not even Stan spoke to
him like this, shared like this, and he was pretty close to Stan. At Four in the morning and Ben was awake too. Wondering how the vulnerable cop with eyes to drown in had burrowed so far under his skin. He could practically hear Ray’s breathing through the wall and he was counting the breaths. Oh, all right, it was his imagination, but those breaths… How would it be to speed up that respiration rate? Make him pant with desire, gasp for air as… This wasn’t helping. And it also wasn’t helping that he couldn’t shut real life out with the fantasies. Or perhaps it was just a different kind of fantasy: Joseph Vecchio was still alive, offering him the opportunity to kick the sorry bastard down onto a crevasse shelf and leave him there to experience a slow, painful death. Then Ray would be very, very grateful. Very, very willing to show his gratitude. That was good: gratitude was good. Ben’s hand slid down his body, producing an extremely favourable result. An unusually brawny twinge of conscience hit Ben and his mental picture of very grateful Ray was phased out by reality Ray: the man who was bowed by years of abuse and fear, crippled by stress migraines. He knew if he had the chance to be with Ray at this moment, he would be most likely to take him into his arms and rock him to sleep, make him whatever promises it took to erase that frown from his brow. This wasn’t normal and it wasn’t terribly reassuring. Not reassuring at all. Fuck. … Ray was dressing when he heard Ben call up the stairs. Not catching the message he pursued the messenger down to the kitchen. Ben was making pancakes with the enthusiasm of a man who’d been awake most of the night and needed a sugar fix to get through the morning. “I didn’t hear what you said.” “There was a phone call when you were in the shower.” “Home?” “No, a hunter who lives about a three hour drive from here. I think he’s found our plane.” “Is someone on their way there?” “Yes. Us.” “There’s no-one closer?” “Not available today.” Ben transferred the heaped plate of pancakes to the table, taking his first glance at Ray as he turned back to fetch the warmed maple syrup from the microwave. He did a double take and stopped to look at his guest, registering in a split second how good he looked this morning, how the dark green of the turtleneck brought out the colour of his eyes and the rich tones of his skin. He wondered if Ray would like to be licked from scalp to toes. “What?” “It’s going to be extremely cold. You’ll need a lot more than that.” “I hadn’t finished dressing.” “Oh. Okay. Come and eat while it’s hot.” Ray obediently sat at the table and helped himself. “You mind if I drive today?” “No, I don’t mind. I’ve noticed it helps you to unwind.” “Until someone makes a pass at me,” Ray smiled, knowing he was being mean and not caring one iota. Well, maybe one iota. Ben looked up from his breakfast. “No more mixed signals. You have my word.” “The word of a decent law-abiding police officer, or the word of a horny man who’s realised he should have had one really good sustaining session with his boyfriend before he broke up with him?” Ben choked on his pancake. “And how did you even know?” Ray demanded. “About me, that you could… Y’know, make the pass without something bad kicking off.” “I always know, don’t you?” Ben wheezed. Ray couldn’t manage any kind of answer to that – thanks to his father’s threats it was something he’d never dared touch on. He took a calming breath and focused on the day. “You have to excuse me asking if there really is a plane, or
if this is about me not going home until you’ve had another crack at me, or won
the bet you made about the cop from “There’s a plane.” “Look, Ben, you may have got the wrong impression of me through a couple of the shittiest days of my life, but I’m getting back to me today – maybe as much as ten steps away from the living dead, okay?” Ben nodded, sipped orange juice. “Want to tell me why you thought I’d be interested in the first place?” “Just a feeling.” “Just a feeling,” Ray mused. “Those feelings ever get you a fist in the face, Sergeant?” Ben sat forward, reached out to where Ray’s left hand lay on the table, tentatively ran his fingertips over the knuckles. “Would you?” he asked doubtfully. Ray’s phoney brusqueness slipped away at the touch. As if he’d want to mark that face. “No.” Ben continued his caresses, tracing each finger individually, the veins on the back of the hand, exploring the wrist bones, pushing up under the fitted sleeve, brushing his thumb over the smooth skin of inner forearm. Ray watched more than felt, transfixed by the attention. “Ben…” “I love the way you’re put together.” “Are you like this with everyone you meet?” Ben stopped and withdrew, feeling more than a little disorientated. He regrouped, and went back to his pancakes. “I’m never like this,” he admitted, the tone of his voice betraying some confusion. “You want me to book a flight out?” Ben refused to give in to the knee-jerk reaction that suggested he start pleading Ray to stay; taking a deep breath he scraped together his professionalism. “That’s entirely up to you. But the offer is still open if you’d like to come with me to look for the plane.” “Want me to stay?” Ray pressed, surprising himself. The words ‘strangely out of character’ tripped through his mind and he idly swatted them away. He dispassionately watched Ben struggle. “I’d…I’d quite like…” Their eyes met, sparked. “Stay,” Ben instructed. “Stay.” “See,” Ray smiled. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?” … Ray phoned Maria before they left, and finally had a chance to speak to Francesca; both sisters seemed to be coping without him and that was comforting. At least he didn’t have to feel quite so guilty about being this far away when they needed him. The drive was good, giving Ray plenty of quality thinking time. Back home he regularly spent hours simply driving and thinking. Left to his own devices when Stan was working undercover, he’d spend the best part of the evening cruising around, mentally dissecting cases, talking to the invisible partner beside him until he’d tweaked all the details into place and could walk in to see Welsh with the i’s dotted and the t’s crossed. Today he was trying to think about the circumstances of his father’s death, but thoughts of Ben Fraser kept nudging Pop out of the picture. Understandable, Ray accepted, but he still found it disconcerting. He couldn’t believe the Mountie was interested in him, but Ben was forward in a way Ray found both exhilarating and intimidating. Sure, it was possible to reproduce Stan’s off-hand posturing for half-an-hour over breakfast, but if Ben put a serious move on him he was going to cave in and do…anything. Everything. He wouldn’t say no because he couldn’t say no; he had no experience of saying no because he’d never put himself in a position to say yes. Ray knew he should have made the call, got on a plane and flown back to the real world, but here he was, halfway to the middle of nowhere, with a Mountie he could rely on but a man he couldn’t trust. He looked at Ben, who responded immediately, glimpsing up from his map to offer the cop a tantalising half-smile. Ray felt a state of hopelessness settle on him: he wanted this man so much that every nerve in his body sang in his presence, but he knew he would be just another of Ben’s disposable conquests, and that wasn’t much to look back on. Perhaps it was better than nothing, but it wasn’t much. Frustrated romantic, Ray sighed to himself. Total unmitigated fool. Ben stretched in his seat, content with his status as
passenger – driving was a pain in the butt – and smugly satisfied with the
company. The detective from “We close?” Ray asked as the Jeep cautiously picked its way along the track Ben had navigated them to; the branches scraping on the roof and sides of the Jeep gave Ray the creeps and he didn’t even want to think about the suspension or paintwork: catch him bringing his car up here! “About half a kilometre.” “And this was the best way in?” “Unless you were prepared to walk for a couple of k’s.” “Do I look stupid – don’t answer that.” “You know, Ray, I’ve been thinking about the area where the plane landed.” “You saying landed now, not ditched?” “This is precisely the kind of location where a highly skilled pilot could bring a light plane down to make it look like it ditched. The choice of plane is also pertinent. The Aermacchi SF.260 is a high performance light aircraft, far more sleek and manoeuvrable than, say, a Cessna. If the pilot knew he had to land in these conditions it would have been the obvious plane to steal.” “I’ve never heard of it.” “The SF.260 is a rarity: the company was only granted civil certification last year.” “So this guy knew his stuff. That’s something I can go into when I get home.” Ben looked up from where was studying the map. “There’s a clearing just up here on the right…” The track began to open up and Ray swung the Jeep around to the right, narrowly avoiding an ATV that hurtled from the expected direction of the plane. “Hold on,” Ray cried out as he slammed on the brakes, automatically throwing an arm across Ben’s chest to prevent him flying forward. “What the…” Ray was already swinging the Jeep around and accelerating in pursuit of the other vehicle. Ben grasped the dashboard to steady himself as Ray skilfully manoeuvred the speeding Jeep back along the treacherous track, having forgotten any qualms about paintwork or suspension. Breaking out into a patch of flatter open ground, Ray gained on the ATV, hoping he wouldn’t lose that small advantage when they hit the more rugged terrain a mile ahead. The ATV unexpectedly veered in the direction of the trees, launching itself over a rocky mound; there was no choice but to follow, and Ray floored the Jeep into take-off, aware that they were airborne and sending up a quick prayer as they landed with a solid thunk. Thinking ahead, Ray could see no obvious access into the thick forest, and he was ready to swerve off this course when the driver of the ATV discovered that fact and mangled his vehicle around a tree trunk. But the guy figured it out for himself and threw the ATV into an impossible turn, trying to get back to the run of ground he’d been on before the aeronautics. Ray stood on his brakes as the ATV cuffed a boulder and obeyed the laws of physics, bouncing into a direction-altering roll and heading toward the Jeep. Without stopping to think, Ray automatically took his foot off the main brake but yanked hard on the parking brake as he frantically turned the steering wheel. Seconds later they were facing in the opposite direction and speeding away from the ATV, which finally crunched to a halt on its side in their skid marks. Watching in his mirror, Ray slowed the Jeep and turned it around, unhurriedly returning to the apparently lifeless vehicle. “You okay, Ben?” Before Ben could answer a resounding woof came from the back seat. Ray took a wary look at the wolf. “Is he pissed with me?” “Ignore him. He’s always wanted to be in a car chase. Seems to think there’s something glamorous about the danger.” Ben climbed from the Jeep and, at another excited bark, Ray turned to Diefenbaker’s smiling face. “You’re welcome.” The driver of the ATV was already crawling out of the wreck when Ben arrived. The Mountie stood patiently waiting for the man to extract himself, silently assessing: approximately sixty years old, five feet six inches, two-hundred pounds. Ray, however, went straight to help, taking one good look at the man before backing off again. “I don’t believe this,” he muttered to himself. “You know him?” Ray remained silent, waiting as the man got shakily to his feet and brushed himself down. “Hey, Ray. Small world.” “What in hell’s name are you doing here?” “Think the seat belt did something bad to my collarbone.” “You’re lucky to be alive!” “Would one of you gentlemen be so good as to furnish me with an identity?” “This is Albert Caruso,” Ray explained tersely, stepping in to Al and looming over him. “So what, Al? This all about Frankie?” “I’m on vacation, I come across a plane wreck, and being a good citizen…” “Don’t give me any shit, Al! You wanna know how close I am to losing it and beating your brains in?” “Ah, not you, Ray,” Al smiled with what Ben assessed to be genuine affection. Stepping in, Ben gave Al a speedy yet thorough physical examination, concluding that his collarbone was intact, as were the rest of his bones, but he was suffering from extensive bruising. Once the older man was settled in the back of the Jeep, Ben found a bottle of water and, sitting in the driver’s seat, rooted around in the glove compartment for aspirin. Ray got into the passenger seat and turned to face Al. “So, Al, you kill Pop?” “What are you talkin’ about? Joey’s fine, he’s at home.” “Take my word for it. I ever lie to you?” “You’ve always been a good boy, I can trust you.” “Then answer the question. You kill Pop?” “Come on, Ray, I’m not gonna kill Joey.” “Well, you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time. This doesn’t look good.” “I’m just a runner, you know that. I’m never gonna hurt your Poppa, I love him like a brother. You and the girls, you’re family, sweetheart.” “Will you cut out talking to me like I’m still six, Al.” “What can I say? See you as I see you.” “Well, see this guy, Al? This is Sergeant Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and he’s who you’ve got to answer to. If I were you I wouldn’t go calling him sweetheart!” “I never fixed up his skinned knees when he came off his bike.” Ray groaned and slid down in the seat, the heel of his right hand pressing at his brow. “You still get the heads, sweetheart? You should let Al send you to a man he knows…” “Fuck me! Sure, Al, a couple of lines’ll do the trick.” Ben put a calming hand on Ray’s shoulder; Ray mentally handed Uncle Al over and tried his best to switch off. “Mr Caruso, would you mind telling me what you were doing at the plane?” “I’m on vacation, I come across a plane wreck, and being a good citizen…” Al repeated doggedly. “I think we all know that is patently untrue. This plane may have been used by the killer of Detective Vecchio’s father, and your presence here implicates you in that crime. If you have what you believe to be a legitimate reason to be here, or even a less damning one than involvement in my primary investigation, it’s in your best interest to disclose it now.” “What he say?” Ray threw up his hands in despair. “Tell us the truth!” There was a reassuring squeeze administered to Ray’s shoulder and he refocused on that feeling, using it to fend off frustration and twinges of pain. Then it was gone and Ben was turning in his seat, starting up the Jeep and carefully manoeuvring it around the ATV and back toward the plane. “You want to stop for Dief?” “He’ll follow,” Ben assured Ray, feeling inordinately pleased that the cop was concerned for his wolf, before refocusing on Al. “What were you looking for, Mr Caruso?” “Something get left on the plane, Al? Or you just cleaning up?” “I’m on vacation, I come across a plane wreck, yada, yada, yada.” “Why did you run if your presence was innocent?” “ “Oh, yeah. Chicago mentality,” Ray agreed quietly. Sitting back up in his seat he swivelled so he could see Al. “You know, Al, that if this was for Frankie, he sent you for a reason. You’re expendable. Something goes wrong and he isn’t worried about never seeing your smiling face again. He probably offed Pop and now he’s gonna get rid of Pop’s friends, and that includes you.” “Wait. You sayin’ that Joey’s actually dead?” “Yes! Pop’s dead, and you’re probably next.” That left Al thinking, and he was silent as they found the plane which, as Ben suspected, had been carefully brought down and wasn’t as badly damaged as might have been initially supposed. Donning gloves, the Mountie and the cop searched it thoroughly, finding nothing questionable or suspicious. “What d’you think, Ben?” “I think this plane was landed, and the pilot walked away unhurt. Or rode away.” Ben pointed to where the ground had been protected from fresh snowfall by the plane. “These tracks…” “Looks like a motorcycle.” “A dirt bike. Small, powerful, perfect for the terrain.” “So the plane being supposedly crashed here – it’s all a set up?” “It drew our attention and brought us here. Once here, I think we found what we were supposed to find.” Ray waited expectantly. “Al Caruso.” “He was sitting out here waiting for us? He’d have frozen to death in that buggy.” “Not if he had an idea of when we’d be coming. After all, in an area this size, what are the chances we’d all turn up at the site at the same time?” “But who could have tipped him off?” “I don’t know.” “Someone who saw us headed out of Tuktoyaktuk? Maybe our killer
didn’t go back to “Maybe he never came from “Why “It’s an hour closer to this site than Tuktoyaktuk and the only logical place for him to have been staying.” “There must be some significance to the fact it’s Al waiting for us.” “How so?” “Because…because it’s Al. Okay, he’s not as stupid as he seems but he’s not far short, and he’s certainly no great actor – he knew Pop was dead. He’s easy to dismiss as a pawn and I’m expected to go easy on him because he may as well be family. He was always around when I was growing up and, yes, he was the one who patched up bloody knees and elbows because Pop sure didn’t give a damn if I bled to death. I’m gonna go easy on him.” “Who’s Frankie?” “Zuko. The Zukos have always run “See if you can get any more out of Caruso; I’ll finish up here.” Ray gratefully got back into the warm Cherokee, suspecting he was going an unbecoming blue around the edges. He watched Ben take a forensic case from the boot of the Jeep, knowing that the Mountie was just going through the motions, dusting the plane’s cockpit for fingerprints: every surface would have been wiped clean. “That nose looks like it’s gonna snap off, sweetheart. We
think “I think we gotta leave the nose out of this, Al. You realise the trouble you’re in?” “I’m always in trouble. Trouble, schmuble.” “You think I want to see you go down for killing Pop?” “I didn’t kill your Poppa.” “I know you didn’t, but you’re walking into this, you’ve
been sent into this so we can tie it up nice and neat. The Mounties at “How can they?” “You know how they can.” “They gonna plant it?” “No, they’re not gonna plant it! But Frankie doesn’t have their principles, and he’s sitting back and laughing at you. Laughing at the both of us.” Ray pulled off his hat and irritably ran his fingers through his hair. Al automatically smoothed down the ruffled locks on the back of his head. Ray accepted the grooming, letting it resurrect the life-long feeling of being Uncle Al’s favourite lost cause. “Hey, you look so much like Joey when he was your age.” “Oh, yeah, kick me when I’m down,” Ray sighed. “Can you just tell me what Pop did to get murdered? What did he do to piss Frankie off so bad?” “I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m lost in all this.” “You gonna tell me who sent you here?” “Want the same old line?” “The vacationing good Samaritan? I don’t think so.” Ben knocked on Ray’s door and Ray pulled his hat back on before climbing out. “Any luck?” Ben asked. “He’s not going to tell me anything. Take him back to the Post and beat it out of him.” Ben chuckled and went to the rear of the Jeep, depositing the forensic case in the boot. “Want to drive?” he called to Ray. “Yeah, thanks.” Ray opened a rear door to let the recently arrived Diefenbaker in next to Al, then he took his place behind the wheel, feeling smug that he was still permitted there after the way he’d pursued the ATV. ‘You never let me drive your fucking car!’. Too right! Ben climbed in beside him and immediately turned his attention to the map. “Want to pick up anything from your buggy?” Ray asked Al as they drove past the battered ATV. “Nah. You know it’s hired. People are gonna to be pissed with me.” “It will all be sorted out,” Ben told him over his shoulder.
“I’ll contact the hire shop in But Al’s attention had already wandered. “Nice dog. What a nice dog.” “Actually he’s a wolf.” “What a nice wolf,” Al continued, unfazed. “You want some candy? I got some candy.” Oh, yes, Dief wanted some candy, and a confectionary-based version of blood brothers was soon forged in the rear seat. “Would it be safe to assume that Al taught you to drive?” Ben asked Ray knowingly. “I taught all the kids,” Al replied proudly before Ray could draw breath to answer. “You think today was scary,” Ray muttered darkly, “you should see Frannie park at the mall.” The trip back to Tuktoyaktuk was good for Ray despite the circumstances: Al was able to fill him in on the progress of family and acquaintances, passing on gossip and funny stories that there never seemed to be time for on the phone with Maria or Frannie – calls that had always needed to be kept a secret. Or rather the trip was good until… “I don’t know if I supposed to tell anyone or not, Ray, but hell, it’s your sister.” “What about my sister?” Ray was immediately concerned. “Which sister?” “Frannie. She’s expecting.” The Jeep swerved as Ray baulked at Al’s words. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “She wants kids. And I think she kinda likes Marco.” “Pop gave her up to that worthless fuck…” “I think she fell for him. He’s okay.” “Oh, well, if you think he’s okay,” Ray retorted with heavy sarcasm. “You never got to know him.” “I know he’s mob scum – I don’t need anything else” “Come on, sweetheart…” “Shut that up!” Ray groped in the door pocket and shoved a new tape in the dashboard player, poking ferociously at the on button. The buoyant sounds of Shiny Happy People filled the Jeep. Ray, feeling distinctly unshiny and unhappy, took a sideways look at Ben. “These your tapes, Sergeant?” “A…friend left them in the car.” “The last friend, or a previous friend?” “A previous friend.” “Okay…” Ray took another look: Ben was biting his lip as he manfully tried to keep from disintegrating into a fit of giggles. He scowled meaningfully. “Later, pal, later.” … Ben told Ray to take the Jeep and go home, he’d follow on in the detachment’s Ute. Ray watched the Mountie escort Al into the Post, Dief trotting happily behind. His heart sank. He couldn’t see Al take the rap for this crime, and if freeing his stupid butt meant going home and confronting Frankie Zuko head-to-head he’d do it. He’d wait and see what progress Ben made and then he’d leave tomorrow. He would leave; no more looking for excuses to stay. Ray drove carefully back to The Point, thinking about cooking, thinking about packing, thinking about how Ben’s face would look when he said he was going. Would he carry on with the stoical Mountie act that Ray could already see straight through? Use the inscrutable expression that Ray’d bet nobody else looked at closely enough to see the shifting moods in the depths of the eyes; eyes that promised him flashes of heaven and all the levels of hell. Or would he say it again? Stay. That one word from those enticing lips might undo him if it was said with sufficient passion. Ray shook his head: reality sucked, but Ben couldn’t be allowed to say the word. Chicago was waiting for him, and tomorrow he would be on his way. Some time later a quick call from Ben informed Ray he’d be home in a half-hour, so he started to cook. The appearance of domesticity made him smile, and he deliberately pushed thoughts of Pop and Al to the back of his mind so he could carry on with his little fantasy; how would it be if this were his life? The fantasy faltered, and he realised that he wanted to remove Ben and this cosiness and transport it to somewhere warmer, somewhere he could phone for takeout Chinese or a pizza, somewhere he could drive around the corner to the girls and be told, ‘Wow, Ray, we’re so happy’. Mmm…some minor – well, major – adjustments and there was a fantasy he could live. Ray was drawn from his reverie by the sound of the front door and the subsequent scrabbling of wolf claws on the hardwood floor in the hallway. Diefenbaker announced himself with an enthusiastic bark and scooted to Ray’s side, staring adoringly up at the counter where he knew food was being prepared, and being rewarded with a plate of scraps Ray had kept for him. Ray glanced across the kitchen to where Ben stood in the doorway, his face serious. “What’s wrong?” “Will the food be ruined if it’s not eaten now?” Ray switched off the stove. “Forget the food – what’s wrong?” Ben gestured to Ray with his head, and the cop hurried to him. The minute he came within range, Ben grasped Ray’s shoulders and in one sweeping movement had him pinned against the nearest wall. Ray gasped as the Mountie’s mouth fastened on the curve where jaw became neck, sucking and licking, and he felt the buttons popping off his shirt as impatient hands hauled it open. “Oh, God, I want to taste every inch of you,” Ben groaned as he worked his way under the turtleneck. Ray snapped out of his shock and grabbed at Ben’s enthusiastic hands, stilling them where they were tangled in his clothes. “What brought this on?” he demanded shakily. “You. The way you look, the way you move, the way you smell – oh, the way you smell. And I kept thinking about the way you went after that buggy today, the way you drove. Very skilful, very controlled, but very – very…” “Dangerous?” “Dangerous.” “What are you, a wolf?” “It sums up how I feel about you. You set me on edge, I’m not in control of this situation and…and… All the emotions I’ve never experienced are here for you. I don’t feel safe and that does something for me, Ray. You have no idea how much it turns me on – you turn me on.” “You ripping my clothes off is a bit of a clue.” “I won’t wait any longer. I want you so much. If you’re going to say no you’d better say it now. Loudly. If it’s no you had better scream it at the top of your voice or I swear I won’t hear it.” Ray prised the Mountie away to arm’s length and stared at the handsome face flushed with desire, gazed searchingly into the lust-darkened eyes. This was for him. This. Was. For. Him. His fingers were trembling as they skimmed Ben’s lips, and he let them be kissed, drawn in, sucked. “I can’t believe you want me.” “Believe it,” Ben slurred past Ray’s fingers. Ray pulled his hand away and tried a step sideways, but Ben’s hands were encircling his waist, bringing him back. “I’m not going to let you run away.” “No?” “No.” Ben moved in close, tongue flicking out to lick his lips in anticipation. “And I don’t hear you screaming.” He smiled. “Yet.” “You feel me shaking? You think that’s a good sign?” “I think that’s a great sign.” Ray waited for Ben to make his final move, waited to be determinedly kissed so he could pretend things were beyond his control. It wasn’t happening: he could slap this damn Mountie. “What are you waiting for?” “You.” “I don’t…” “Say it.” “What am I…” “Say it.” Ray hesitated, leant back against the wall, closed his eyes, reminded himself to breathe. “I want you,” he whispered on one of those breaths. Ray heard the sharp inhalation, felt the Mountie press forward, moaned quietly to himself as his mouth was softly covered by Ben’s. One hand slid up his body and cupped the back of his head, pulling him into the kiss as Ben’s tongue eased his lips open and traced them before slowly and deliberately probing deeper. All the you shouldn’t, you mustn’t, you can’ts in Ray’s life disintegrated; twenty years of rigid self-control shattered. Ray’s hands left his sides, skimming over Ben’s body, finding his face and exploring the curves and planes, rubbing a thumb over a day’s growth of bristle, running fingertips along the dense hairline, stroking the line of a finely shaped ear. Ben eventually broke the kiss, drawing Ray from the kitchen, up the stairs, toward his bedroom. Ray stalled. “Where do you usually take people?” Ben frowned as he considered the question, smiled as he understood, changing direction to Ray’s room. “I can’t say I’ve never had anyone in here, but not for a long time. Never Steve.” “Shiny happy boyfriend?” “Even before him.” “Okay. While I’m being difficult can I ask you to not call me anything but my name?” Ben held Ray close, a teasing smile on his face. “I’m certainly not going to call you sweetheart…” “Just Ray.” Ben’s smile faded. “I’m not going to be thinking of anyone else, Ray. If I used an endearment it wouldn’t be because I’d forgotten who you were in the throes of passion.” “Okay.” “You don’t sound too sure. But at least you’re not screaming no.” He studied Ray’s tense face. “Any minute though…” “It’s yes, I promise. Yes. Kiss me, touch me, fuck me. Yes, yes, yes.” “Yes, yes, yes sounds good.” Ben kissed Ray hard, beginning to strip him without breaking that contact, somehow managing to remove the turtleneck with a minimum of separation. Ray was confronted by Ben’s experience in everything he did and a need to be honest nagged at him, gradually becoming harder to ignore than Ben’s attentions. “There’s something…” Kiss. “Something I want to tell you.” Ben’s mouth worked down his neck to investigate the bare chest. “Ben, listen…” “You are so perfect, so…fine.” Ray entwined his fingers in Ben’s hair and not so gently pulled him back to eye level. “Mmm?” Ray ducked away from another kiss. “I have to tell you.” Ben blinked hard, dragged his brain out of his groin, nodded his readiness to listen. “Look…I don’t…I wouldn’t…I’ve never…” “I do understand.” “You do?” “It’s obvious.” “It is?” “You’re not the type.” “I’m not?” “And I’m so grateful that you’re prepared to make an exception for me.” More enthusiastic kisses and Ray knew he had to establish a few facts before they went any further. “Ben…Ben…what is it that you understand?” “You’ve never done this before.” “You could tell?” “It’s obvious you’re not the kind of guy who goes for one night stands – not that this… Anyway, you usually take your time, get to know someone…” “No, you don’t…” “It’s nothing you should feel you have to explain. In fact I’ve always admired people with principles like that. Or should it be self-control? If you’d have been here for longer then maybe…” “Ben…” “I can guess: less talk?” More kisses. Ray gave up on the infuriating man, resolving
to let Ben find out about his lack of experience by being disappointed or
frustrated or whatever, depending on however badly this went. Time to be
selfish, to create a few fantasies to keep him warm on long, cold “Let me watch you.” A faint reciprocal smile appeared. “Undress.” The smile widened. “We need music.” Ben disappeared from the room before Ray could make a sound to stop him. Footfalls on the stairs followed by the faint sound of CD cases clattering together and the familiar sound of the Whigs. Ben was back as quickly. “This music…” “Ray…don’t you have music that just says seduction to you?” Ben sat on the edge of the bed to take off his boots. “I have to get rid of these. I know what you want, but believe me, there is nothing sexy about me trying to get out of these boots.” Ray sat beside him and watched him nevertheless, wondering what the hell he was getting himself into. “Do many people ask you to keep the uniform on for sex?” “That isn’t something I’d do.” “Prohibitive cleaning bill, I’ll bet.” “You have a strange impression of me. I’d never disrespect the uniform.” Boots and socks shed, Ben turned to him. “This music and I have been waiting for someone special. After tonight, every time I play it I’ll be thinking of you, Ray.” “Very smooth. How many suckers have you used that line on?” Ben’s brow kinked. “I… Do you want to stop now?” “No. Sorry.” “I don’t ask for much, but I prefer the men I have sex with to like me, if only a little.” “I like you. I do. I’m just…I d’know.” “Cynical “Sure.” “And you are perfect. I love your body. I love your bones.” Ben ran a finger down Ray’s rib cage, mentally counting each rib. “You’re unhinged.” “I want you, Ray. I want to be inside your perfect body.” Ray gulped, gave a little shiver that made Ben melt. “Undress. Please?” Ben reluctantly left his extremely cosy position, moving to a clear area of floor.“Comfortable?” Ray scooted across the bed until he was leaning back against the pillows. “Feel free to do whatever I inspire you to.” ‘No,’ Ray said adamantly inside his head, ‘I am not going to lay here and jerk off for you.’ But Ben only had to start undoing buttons for him to wish he was that uninhibited. Swaying easily to the music Ben let his jacket slide from his body into a soft heap at his feet; shirt next, button by button, eyes locked with Ray’s until the beige garment was being shed and Ray’s gaze slid down his body waiting impatiently for flesh. Ben slowly peeled off his white undershirt and held it balled around his hands, resting on the crown of his head. He rotated on the spot, showing off an appealing softly-sculpted torso that gleamed palely in the muted glow of the wall lights. Facing Ray again he waited for the cop to refocus, and when their eyes met Ben felt a wave of giddy satisfaction at the desire he saw: he had started to think he’d never get to this man. Tossing the undershirt aside he ran his hands over his chest, his stomach, taking Ray’s attention to the belt he quickly flicked open, the fly button he took his time over, and the protracted unzipping that made time stand still. Ben’s hands eased into his pants, provocatively massaging his erection through his boxers, and he waited until Ray’s breath hitched before unhurriedly pushing his pants over well-toned thighs, letting them crumple to the floor to be kicked away. Ray looked away for a moment’s respite, taking a deep gulp of oxygen and willing his body to calm down. He ignored the first two times Ben quietly spoke his name, but was unable to resist the sing-song version that followed. He unclenched his body, looked back to the flawless face that studied him with amused affection. The brows raised in question, and Ray gave the briefest of nods. And there was the Mountie, perfection from head to toe, unashamedly stripping off his last item of clothing and repeating the leisurely rotation, burning a memory into Ray’s mind for all time. This is for me. This is for me. Fuck, I think I’m gonna cry. Screwing his eyes shut, Ray could still see the imprint Ben had made in his mind. He was always going to be there. He was…he was… He was crawling up the bed, hands firmly smoothing their way over the soft wool pants that covered Ray’s legs. Ray caught those hands on his thighs. “You touch me and I’m gonna come.” “That’s okay. That’s really okay.” “You want this over with?” “We have hours, Ray. I’m going to make you come and come. I’m going to make you come until you pass out.” “Oh.” “Let me make you feel good,” Ben cajoled. “You truly deserve to feel good.” Ben slipped his hands free of Ray’s grasp and pushed the cop back against the pillows, proceeding to remove Ray’s remaining clothing using the lightest, least stimulating of touches. As self-conscious as Ben was unconstrained, Ray felt his clothes go and wondered if he was mentally equipped to deal with what he was doing. The answer was probably no, but did he care? There was, at that moment, the best-looking man he’d ever seen murmuring exorbitantly appreciative comments about his less-than-remarkable body, in danger of causing him to climax just by breathing on him. “Safe?” “Excuse me?” “Are you safe?” Ray looked at Ben blankly. “Tested recently?” “Oh, that. For work, yes.” As if he needed it. “I’m clear.” “You are so perfect, Ray.” “You gotta stop saying that.” “Scared you’re going to start believing it?” “No danger of that.” “What did that bastard tell you?” Ben asked angrily as he backed off, sitting on his heels beside Ray. “You’re ugly? Worthless? The kind of loser nobody’s ever going to want?” “Great. The verbal equivalent of a bucket of cold water.” “You’re special, Ray, and…and you’re irresistible.” Ray drew breath to throw back a sharp rejoinder but it was stolen away when Ben bent over him, unhesitatingly taking his cock deeply into his mouth. “Oh, fuck, Ben!” Ray’s hands reflexively went to Ben’s head, fingers clenching in the thick hair, having no choice but to follow Ben’s rhythm as his mouth slid up, down over Ray’s shaft. “Ben…Ben…Benny…BennyBennyBenny…” Ben’s tongue flickered over the sensitive glans and Ray came with an intensity he would have sworn was beyond him, crying out wordlessly as Ben carried on, gently coaxing every drop from him. Ray zoned out momentarily and when he zoned back in Ben was alongside him, repeatedly threading his fingers through the patch of hair at the centre of Ray’s chest. Ben watched Ray’s eyes flicker open, ready with a soft smile when they turned in his direction. “Hey, Ben.” “Benny. I like Benny. Makes it sound as if you have some great affection for me.” “What makes you think I haven’t?” Ray rolled toward the Mountie, catching his mouth with his own, probing and tasting, concentrating hard, making another memory. Nobody would ever taste as good as this man – as them together – nobody would ever feel as good. More. More now. “Still want to…y’know?” “You have to ask?” “Do it.” “Everything’s…” Ben gestured in the direction of his bedroom. “I’ll just…” He climbed from the bed, ducked out of the room, and was gone just long enough for Ray to wonder if he was doing the right thing, then contemptuously dismiss his own reservations. Ben dropped condoms and a tube of lubricant on the bedside cabinet before kneeling beside Ray and pulling him effortlessly up into his arms, kissing him extensively even as he started to turn him. Then Ray was on elbows and knees and Ben was licking his way down the well-defined spine; hands ran appreciatively over his buttocks before moving to take in Ray’s narrow hips, holding Ray still as the inquisitive tongue explored the cleft at the base of his back, sliding further down until it lapped at the entrance to his body. Ray gasped and shuddered pleasurably at the unexpected attention, groaning encouragement as a practised finger used the saliva to slide inside him. “Please, Ben, I want you so much.” “There’s no rush.” “There’s a rush. Believe me, there’s a rush.” Ben chuckled and
rose to his knees behind Ray, stroking his erection in the “If you don’t relax this is going to hurt.” “Just do it.” “Ray, I won’t hurt you.” “Do it.” “Ray…” “Please, Ben – Benny, please fuck me, just fuck me, I’ve waited so long, please.” Ben positioned his cock and carefully pressed forward, prepared for the resistance he met, but unprepared for the way Ray abruptly pushed back at him. Ray felt Ben’s hands grab roughly at his hips, stilling him so he wouldn’t cause himself any damage. He wanted to scream with frustration at Ben’s caution, at his withdrawal, but then he felt his body being eased open once again by gentle fingers that were cool with fresh lubricant. “I want you, I want you…” he whispered to Ben. “I want you too, but not at any price. Do you always let men hurt you?” Only the ones that matter. Ray could feel the changes of pressure in the mattress beneath his knees as Ben swayed with the music winding up the stairs, using it as a distraction to keep himself calm. Ray’s senses began to switch off until he could home exclusively in on the Mountie’s touch and the Mountie’s silken voice. “Curse softly to me, baby,” it sang, barely audible, “and smother me in your love. Temptation comes not from hell but from above…” Ray followed the words, mentally concurring with the latter sentiments, until his attentions were arrowed to the removal of fingers and introduction of something far more substantial. He gasped breathlessly as Ben’s cock penetrated his body, opening, stretching him. There was pain, underestimated pain. If you don’t relax this is going to hurt. Refusing to let himself beg Ben to stop, he bit his tongue until he tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. In Ray to the hilt, Ben rested, giving Ray adjustment time. And Ray adjusted, forced his body to accept the act. As Ben slowly began to withdraw the heat of pain transmuted into a different kind of heat that spread through Ray like a neurological tidal wave. “More,” Ray urged in a low voice, and Ben gladly indulged the cop, easing back into him and whispering the endearments Ray hadn’t wanted to hear but now relished. An unremitting rhythm established itself, descending into sheer abandonment as Ray urged more, more, more. Eventually Ben was slamming into him, and Ray almost had what he wanted: enough pleasure and pain to stir the man he could be, should have been. The pace lessened to nothing and Ray was about to protest when slick skin moulded to his back as Ben leant over him, snaking an arm across his chest and pulling him upright with him. “Come to me,” Ben whispered, exerting a mild pressure until Ray’s body rested unresistingly against his own, his head turned so that Ben’s lips were caressing his ear. “Don’t make me hurt you anymore.” “I just want…I just want you to throw the switch. You were so right, Benny: living dead. You’re gonna bring me back. Bring me back.” “Oh, Ray, no. It shouldn’t have to hurt to be real. Not everything in life has to hurt.” Ray’s hands reached back and stroked Ben’s hips and thighs. “Please, I want this so badly. You. I want you so badly.” “You’ve got me. And I swear I’ll throw that switch.” Ben started to move again, slowly grinding against Ray. “You have me. Feel me inside you?” Focused on sensation and rendered incapable of speech, Ray simply nodded. Ben ran his hands over Ray’s chest, pausing to appreciate the graceful line of his collarbone before circling his fingertips over nipples that responded immediately, peaking, being rewarded by all the more attention. “Does that feel good?” Another nod. Ben licked down Ray’s neck, teasingly biting his shoulder as he gasped and shivered. “Good?” “Yes,” came the croaked reply. “Hurt?” “No.” One hand crept lower, rib by rib, until its nails raked tantalisingly down Ray’s stomach and his swollen cock felt it was going to burst as the back of Ben’s hand brushed the sensitive tip. Still holding onto Ben for support Ray began to work his hips back and forth, and now it was Ben’s turn to be swept along by delicious sensation. “You want to make me come?” “Oh, God, yes. Inside me. Now. Together.” The imagery invoked by Ray’s whispered words demolished Ben’s intentions to make this last; he cupped Ray’s balls, fondling them carefully before trailing his fingers up Ray’s erection, ruining the rhythm Ray had established as he teased the glans, fingertips sliding sensually in the pre-cum. “Ben – Benny – fuck me now, now.” Ray tipped forward, landing on his hands and sinking onto his elbows as Ben, self-control burnt out, began to grind into him. It was pleasure, pure pleasure; Ben had made the pain go away and was now sharing the greatest, most joyful moment he had known. The groaned endearments were back but Ray could barely hear them past the sound of his heart’s furious drumming, the beat quickening to an astonishing rate as Ben’s hand found his cock again and wrapped around it, taking only seconds to coax a second mind-blowing orgasm out of him. Ray felt Ben’s smooth strokes falter as he came, burying himself deeply inside Ray, panting his name again and again. Ben lowered them onto their sides before draping an arm over Ray and relaxing with a satisfied groan. The CD had finished playing and the only sound was their laboured breathing. Ray felt Ben’s softening cock slip from him and experienced the loss with his entire being; he swallowed hard to keep raging emotions in their place, swallowed again when Ben buried his face in his hair and kissed the back of his head. “You think you can fall in love in three days?” Ray asked in a murmur. Ben froze for a second, then held him tighter, repeated the kiss. In the ensuing quiet Ray began to wonder if he’d actually asked the question aloud, finally deciding he’d dreamt asking it, floating as he was, halfway between reality and sleep. It probably wasn’t the kind of thing you admitted post-coitally anyway. The feel of Ben backing off shot him awake. “Don’t let me go.” “I’m just getting rid of this,” Ben explained as he pulled off the condom, knotted it, casually threw it over his shoulder onto the floor. Then he snuggled close again. “Don’t let me go,” Ray repeated. “I’m not going to let you go.” “Thank you.” “You don’t have to thank me for being exactly where I want to be.” Ray started to drift once more and Ben nudged him awake. “No going to sleep.” “Sorry.” “And I apologise for being selfish, but I am going to keep you awake whether you like it or not.” Ray chuckled and Ben gave him another squeeze. “Talk to me, Detective.” “What about?” Ben considered, having to dismiss a thousand-and-one things he wanted to ask because of the painful associations they would undoubtedly stir. “Two weeks ago.” “’Kay…two weeks…” Ray paused, picked back through the days. Two weeks ago…oh, yeah, my Pop, the evillest son-of-a-bitch I’ve ever known, was still a living, breathing monument to the misery that is his children’s lives. “Nothing special. Me and Stan were wrapping up an assault case: pimp and three of his girls he’d been knocking around. He practically killed one of ‘em and we stepped in.” “Tell me about Stan,” Ben told him, not sounding like he really wanted to know. “Stan…I don’t know where to start.” “The beginning.” “Well, he came to the 27th to work undercover, protecting some cop’s identity while he infiltrated the mob. We got teamed up a few times – sometimes you really need a partner to watch your back, Chicago’s a lot different from here – and when he went back to being himself he stayed around and we stayed together.” “What does he look like?” Ray hesitated, thrown by the personal nature of the question. “Let’s just say if we’d come here together it wouldn’t have been me you were hitting on.” “I doubt that very much.” “Can you reach my clothes? Find my wallet. In my pants.” Ben turned and sat up on the edge of the bed, pulling Ray’s pants towards him and locating the wallet in the back pocket, handing it over, trying not to let Ray see the jealousy on his face: Ray had a picture of his partner in his wallet? Just work? Sure. “See here…” Ben took the photograph he was being offered. “This is such a good one of the girls. That’s Maria, that’s Frannie, that’s Marco – shame he had to be in the picture – that’s Jack Huey, another guy I work with, and that’s Stan. We made up a table for some police benefit or other: great night. It’s about the only picture I’ve ever seen where Maria and Frannie are smiling and meaning it.” “They’re very lovely,” Ben smiled, saying what he knew was the right thing despite the fact he’d barely glimpsed away from Stan Kowalski’s face and its unsettling knowing smirk to look at the women. “Ain’t they just? Maria’s happy ‘cos Tony’s at the next table. He’s this guy she’s been in love with for, like, forever, but he’s not mob, not a go-getter, so Pop said no. They were sneaking around for a long time until Pop figured it out and had him frightened off. He’s okay though, Tony. He makes Maria happy. I need to sort that out when I get home,” Ray finished thoughtfully. “So…you and Stan…work partners, that’s it?” “Friends. Definitely friends,” Ray said simply, naively missing the insinuation. Ben took the wallet from Ray, tucked the picture in, pitched it on top of his clothes. Turning, he threw the cop back across the bed before straddling him and dipping down to kiss the smiling mouth, tasting deeper. “You bit your tongue.” “Yeah.” “That must’ve hurt.” “Didn’t notice at the time,” Ray lied with a grin, being rewarded with another kiss. Ben sat back up and studied the man beneath him, knowing that Ray hated being really looked at but not caring. “You’re so perfect.” “I wish you’d stop that. How can I respect you as a cop when your eyesight is obviously screwed? Lucky someone else found Pop – you wouldn’t have noticed him unless you fell over him or the wolf started chewing on him.” “So perfect.” “For God’s sake, Benny!” “Want to fuck me?” Ben took Ray’s hands and placed them on his growing erection. “Want to fuck me, Ray?” Sure, I could fuck you. Or, as a further option, I could
hold up a placard saying ‘Don’t know what I’m doing. Laugh now’. “No.” “No?” “I want you in me again.” “You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow.” “So?” Ray smiled and smoothly lied another lie. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
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