Part 9 ~ Friday 15 April 1994

At three-fifteen Ray gave up trying to sleep. Nightmare after nightmare had jolted him awake, and the last, seeing Stan’s plane plummeting out of the sky on its way to Duluth was more than he could bear. Leaving Ben in an enviably deep and peaceful sleep he crept from the bedroom and into the kitchen, making coffee and sitting at the table, his tired mind ploughing through the case for the nth time. He was almost brave enough to look as close to home as he needed to, but that proved to be just one more nightmare he fled from. At four-thirty, motivated by the first twinge of pain behind his eyes, Ray collected his novel from the bedside cabinet and huddled into the corner of the couch, opening the book with a contented sigh as he headed for a couple of hours of gruesome escapism.

The calm slowly disintegrated as the clock ticked toward seven, and by the time Ben rose Ray was standing under a lukewarm shower letting the jet pound on the back of his neck and his shoulders in a bid to unravel a few of the knots that were already constricting the muscles. The Mountie joined him without a word, turning up the heat a little and gently massaging from the base of Ray’s skull to beneath his shoulder blades.

“Bad already?” he murmured.

“I’m dreading this.”

“Don’t go.”

“I have to go.”

“He doesn’t deserve your loyalty.”

“I want to see the end of this. Of him.”

Pressing himself close and nuzzling the back of Ray’s head, Ben slid his hands down and around, exploring the slippery body with loving attentiveness.

“I can help you to relax,” he offered.

“It doesn’t seem right. Not today.”

Ben’s fingertips skimmed Ray’s hard cock, causing a tremor that shook his entire body.

“Some of you thinks it’s perfectly right. Please let me, Ray.”

“You know I’m going to say yes, why do you bother to ask?”

“My respect for you equals my desire.”

“Then why are you so pushy?”

“You excite me more than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“Oh, come on, Benny, that’s gotta be a line.”

“Steve said I was a control freak and he was right. I even needed to control us— Do you mind me talking about this?”

“It hurts when you say us and mean you and somebody else.”

“Then I won’t say it again.”

“Say it. I want to know what you were going to tell me.”

Ben paused in thought for a moment, filling the brief hiatus with kisses to Ray’s neck.

“He accused me of controlling us sexually and resented the fact that he couldn’t make me lose myself in the passion of the moment. No-one has ever been able to seduce me, Ray. Before you. No-one has ever been able to make me hard with a look, make me come with a word. I prided myself on my sexual prowess but my feelings for you have turned me into a fumbling adolescent with little restraint and even less desire for it.”

Ray thought about Wednesday, when he’d made love to Ben, been inside him for the first time. Ben had been totally lost in the passion of that particular moment, such a potent sight of exquisite abandonment that Ray had had to close his eyes against the image in order to prevent himself from coming instantly. Even now it thrilled him and he couldn’t prevent the quiet moan that started somewhere deep inside his body and rumbled in his throat.

“What?” Ben whispered.

“Wednesday,” was all Ray needed to say.

The memory of that pure erotic delight swept through Ben and he pulled Ray around and kissed him hard.

“Never…” Another kiss. “…never, have I experienced anything like that. I couldn’t give myself to any other person in that way. I relinquished control. Only for you. Only to you.” Ben turned off the water, grabbed a towel and gave them both a cursory wipe. “I need you to fuck me now.” Before Ray could protest Ben took both his hands, drawing him to the bedroom. “Please, Ray.”

Ben turned to retrieve a condom, allowing Ray to admire the broad shoulders, the beautifully muscled back; his gaze slipped lower and any earlier hesitation was gone.

“I’m so worked up, Benny. We’re looking at short and sweet here.”

“It’ll be enough, believe me.”

“And when we’re done, just tell me it’ll be all right. Today will be all right.”

Lust momentarily forgotten, Ben took up Ray’s hands and held them to his chest.

“I promise. We’ll get through this together.

Ray slid his hands over Ben’s shoulder and pulled him into a kiss, tender now and unhurried as they tipped onto the bed.

They both knew that these would be the best moments of the day. All downhill from here.

Today, of all days, was not going to be all right.

…

The morning was hell. Ray exploited a lifetime of practise in order to hold back the tumult of emotions that threatened to break him down, break his will, force him to show everything he’d fought against showing since he was the pathetic kid his father despised. He swallowed down the sorrow, the rage. He swallowed down the fear, the desolation.

Through it all he was aware that so little of the now was sinking in. He was dragged back in time, haunted by a funeral he had missed. The funeral of his mother. One moment she had been the warm and vibrant epitome of love in his difficult life, the next she was a bitter void, having taken her own life in the despairing hours after her husband had practically beaten her son to death, weighed down by the belief that she had lost Ray and, worse, betrayed him, never having been able to protect him from intimidation and violence in her own home. Still in hospital after the brutal attack, Ray had spent the day of her funeral in a drugged stupor, never having the chance to say goodbye, to openly accept and acknowledge his loss.

Brought abruptly back to the here and now by a single twist of pain behind his eyes, he became aware of the world circling around him, and he wondered distantly if he was going to fall at the graveside. But Stan’s hand was on the small of his back, grasping a fistful of coat and holding him steady until the spiralling sensation passed and he was able to breathe again without reminding himself to take each breath. Accepted as family where Ben would still be considered an outsider, Ray had always known he would need Stan to get him through this; his partner had understood without a word, sticking closely by him: his support, his security.

Not even a couple of hours in reality, the process of disposing of his father seemed interminable and every minute became more punishing. Ray swallowed until his strength was giving out and he couldn’t swallow another damn thing down.

Then he was vaguely aware of people returning to their cars as he stood alone beside the open grave. Alone until he glanced around and caught a glimpse of red, and Ben was finally permitted to take his rightful place at his side. Reminiscent of the first day, when Ray was viewing his father’s body and Ben had stepped up at the exact moment he’d needed him. It seemed an age ago. A time when Ben was still a stranger, when they had not touched, had not kissed. A time when he didn’t know that this was the man he wanted by him for always.

Unable to leave without a word to Ray, his work colleagues waited patiently a short distance away, herded from the immediate proximity of the grave by Stan. They spoke in low voices, not least about their surprise at seeing Frank Zuko appear with only the right-hand man for protection, but also at Ray’s cordial welcome for the mob boss. Now, as they watched, the Mountie slipped his arm through Ray’s, leaning in close to speak privately, even managing to raise a painful smile before his free hand came up to smooth over the frown that seemed carved into the cop’s features. It was a sweet gesture. Unmistakeably loving. Stan refused to react, belligerently not commenting or making excuses. Welsh and Huey looked awkwardly, silently away; Elaine continued to study the couple, relieved that Ray had finally allowed someone close enough for consolation on such a wretched occasion.

When Ray was coaxed back to the land of the living he came and shook hands, thanking them for attending, allowed Elaine to kiss his cheek. A look to Ben and the Mountie was escorting the representatives of the 27^th to their vehicles, leaving Ray alone with Stan.

“How’s the head?”

“Working up to it. Thanks for being here. I couldn’t have coped without you.”

“You held up pretty well, what with…everything.”

“Yeah, there was a lot of everything today,” Ray said with a ghost of a smile.

“I feel bad about going. But you’re okay with Red.”

“It’s not the same.”

“You wanna be careful,” Stan grinned. “You know how jealous he is?”

“I know.” They managed to squeeze one of their silences into the short conversation. It ended as Stan went to look at his watch; Ray snatched at his wrist, covering the offending timepiece. “Another hour. Come back to the house.”

“I can’t. At least I don’t think I can. I have no idea of the time,” Stan added pointedly, expecting Ray’s hand to fall away. It didn’t, and Stan used the contact to lever his partner into a hug despite expecting to be brushed off. Ray felt the man who loved him like a brother hold him, offer him comfort, heard him whisper encouraging words, but only the knowledge that he was leaving truly sank in. Trying harder, as he had promised he would, Ray forced himself to reciprocate the gesture of affection and he actively hugged Stan back, knowing that Stan recognised the difference because he immediately shut up, allowing this contact to convey more than words ever could. When they parted Stan apologetically looked at his watch.

“You’re going,” Ray dismally observed.

Stan gave a nod.

“Promise me something?”

“What?”

“Promise me you’re not gonna take off with the Mountie while I’m gone.”

“I wouldn’t do that without talking to you.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

“I mean, if you had to visit Canada, that’s one thing, but if…”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Stan quickly mulled it over, knew that love made you do screwy things, but decided to give his partner the benefit of the doubt.

“Okay. You want a lift to the house?”

“We arranged for Tony to leave me his car and go back with Maria.” Ray began to check his pockets. “Ben must have the keys.”

“Find out before I go. Don’t want to just leave you here.”

They strolled to where Ben waited, answering the question by being sat behind the wheel of Tony’s battered Ford. He emerged to wish Stan farewell and safe journey, then retreated to the car once again, patiently waiting for Ray, his protective gaze never leaving the cop for a moment.

“How long?”

“Couple of days. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Stan headed for the GTO before another silence could develop, glancing back with a wave, taking with him the image of Ray’s pained and troubled face – an image that would help bring him back from his assignment sooner rather than later.

…

Ray woke at just past eight in the evening, remembering little of the afternoon before the headache hit, not entirely sure if he’d even got to the house. He had vague recollections that didn’t appear to fit together, but after a migraine of that magnitude it wasn’t surprising he was still dazed. Grateful to be in his own home, his own bed, he lay still and silent while his head cleared, then stretched out, making contact with Ben who was propped up on the pillows beside him, reading his Stephen King.

“Benny.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m glad it’s over. Beyond that…pretty raw.” Ray’s arm snaked out from beneath the covers, grabbing the book and flipping it onto the floor. “Want to get in here and take my mind off it?”

“Let me get you something to eat first.”

Ben started up but Ray grabbed his arm, pulling him back and down.

“Come on, Benny. Like the first time. That’ll stop me thinking of anything else.”

“I know what you’re asking and the answer is no. I won’t hurt you again.”

“Ben…”

“No, Ray,” Ben insisted, easing himself from Ray’s grip and sitting up.

“Please.”

“Is this how it’ll be in the future? Every time you’re emotionally overwhelmed you’ll want me to risk – risk…damaging you?”

“Don’t exaggerate,” Ray snapped moodily.

“I’m not prepared to take the chance.”

“Well, I’m sure I can find someone who will.”

Ben twisted around and stared at Ray. Had he really heard those words?

“Say that again.”

“How it’ll be in the future,” Ray snorted derisively as he threw the covers back and sat up. “Who d’you think you’re fooling? You’ll go home and forget all about me.”

“I assure you…”

“You can assure me all you want, Ben, and I’ll keep playing along, letting you believe I’ve swallowed every line. But I’m not as easy to manipulate as you think.”

Ray pulled his robe on and left the room, Ben in quick pursuit, catching Ray by the arm and turning him around.

“I’ve not been trying to manipulate you, Ray.”

“Sure.”

“Listen to me. You’ve had a stressful day, a lot of pain, Stan’s gone…”

“And how happy are you about that?”

“I’m not. I’d prefer it if he were here for you.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“Yes. Because it’s the truth.”

“What if he’s the someone who will take the chance, huh? What if you were right about my feelings for him all along?” Ray saw the doubt in Ben’s eyes and pressed forward. “You’ve seen what an easy-going guy he is, and he’s told me a hundred times he’ll try anything once. Maybe all it needs is a little push from me to make him swing.”

Smarting, needing to get away but unable to get past Ray, Ben retreated into the bedroom, and this time it was Ray stopping him in his tracks.

“He looks good, doesn’t he? I can’t actually imagine how good he feels in the flesh but I bet it wouldn’t take much to find out.”

“No,” Ben said under his breath, unprepared to meet Ray’s eyes.

“What? What was that, Benny? Was that, ‘I’ll do whatever you want, Ray?’ Is that what I heard?”

“No.”

Ray shoved Ben hard against the wall, hearing the Mountie grunt as air was forced from his lungs.

“Give me what I want.”

“What is that, exactly?” Ben wheezed. Ray paused, couldn’t believe he was treating the man he loved this badly. Ben saw that in his expression and softened his voice. “Ray…you can’t hide your pain behind more pain.”

“What do you know?” Ray protested weakly.

“I know I won’t be provoked into hurting you.”

Ben’s right hand lifted, fingertips caressed Ray’s neck.

“Not hurt. Help,” Ray’s voice wavered at the gentle touch.

“Know what would really help?” Ben’s left hand mirrored his right, stroking down onto Ray’s shoulders. “Letting it out. Letting the pain out. Why don’t you cry, Ray?”

“Because I don’t.” Ray looked positively terrified at the thought.

“That’s no answer.” Ray broke away, heading for the living room, finding room to pace. He knew Ben was behind him and wished he’d dressed so he could head straight out of the front door and keep going until he’d outrun the subject. “Tell me, Ray.”

“Because I can’t,” Ray retorted bitterly. “I got tired of being kicked around the house for it, okay? I ran out of places to hide from him where I could cry without being used as a punchbag. Men don’t cry, real men don’t cry, I can hear his voice in my head. Don’t be a sissy, don’t be weak, don’t…don’t— God, he hated me for it Hated me for everything I was, for not being him. Men don’t cry.”

“Yes, they do. They cry, they care, they love, they respect. You proved that to me.”

“No, I don’t cry.”

“I do. When you left me I did. For the first time since I was a child.” Ray came to a sudden halt, horrified at causing that kind of damage. “Don’t look like that. I felt better for it.”

“How? I mean, why?”

“Connection,” Ben replied simply. “It told me I was right about you. Us.” Ben smiled. “When you spoke about the change you’d made to Stan’s life your tone suggested you couldn’t understand how it had happened. I understand. Because of what you’ve done for me. Maybe it has only been a week, maybe your innate modesty will prevent you from seeing it, but I’m a better person for knowing you. You have made me…feel.”

“I’m not worth crying over, Benny.”

“Do you ever listen to a word I say? Really listen?”

“Oh…fuck,” Ray sighed. “I am such a jerk.”

“Perhaps. But you’re my jerk.”

“I’m sorry, Benny, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that about Stan.”

“I know.”

“I don’t…” Ray rushed to Ben and hugged him. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

“Good.”

“And I’m sorry for pushing you around. I shouldn’t’ve done that. I’m sorry.”

“Just understand it will never work. If I hurt you in any way because of your actions it will make me no better than your father.”

Ray hugged tighter.

“You’re nothing like him, nothing.”

“I’m glad you see that. So you’ll stop trying to make me hurt you?”

Ray loosened his grip enough to give himself room to kiss Ben’s neck.

“You never gonna fuck me again, Benny?”

“Whenever you want,” Ben frowned.

The kisses worked along Ben’s jaw.

“And when I say more, you gonna say no?”

“No.”

Ray’s lips found Ben’s and spoke against them.

“When you see me loving you fucking me hard you gonna think you’re hurting me and stop?”

Ben pressed forward and gently kissed Ray.

“I won’t hurt you,” Ben stated unequivocally.

“You never gonna relax with me again? You always gonna be watching for that, thinking I’m trying to fool you when all I want is to feel you throughout my whole body, to have you wipe my mind with what you’re making me feel?”

“Pleasure. Only pleasure.”

“I’m not some masochist. It’s just…” Ray paused to find the right words, filling the time with more kisses. “I’ve had nothing for so long, I want to be shaken up a little. The thought of you doing that shaking…”

“Food first, then I’ll take you to bed. You can have whatever you want.”

“In the kitchen or the bedroom?”

Ben hesitated, torn between his guilt at hurting Ray the previous week and his need to give him everything he asked for.

“Both,” he conceded.

They spoke about the afternoon as they ate, Ben filling in the details. Ray had gone back to the house, dealt with relatives, spent time deeply immersed in conversation with Frankie.

“About what?”

“I have no idea.”

“I don’t like that,” Ray admitted. “Maybe it will come back.”

He’d taken some time out in his father’s study and the migraine had finally flared up, which was when Ben brought him home. Ray’s face bore a troubled expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Just something… Ah, like I said, it’ll come back.”

The disturbed countenance remained; Ben knew an excellent way to fix that.

“Would you like to go back to bed?”

Ray shook his head distractedly, leaving the table and finding his notebook before sitting at his bureau, mentally shutting himself away and starting a review of his father’s case that would take most of the night.

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