Author's Website: http://www.dementia.org/~jacquez/writing/fanfic.html

Disclaimer:

Author's Notes: Thank you to Basingstoke, for the beta.
For Jerome.

Story Notes:

The floor was cool under his knees, and the sheet cool under his forearm. His forearm was warm under his brow. He slid his knees further apart and breathed out; his breath was hot and moist.

He touched his tongue to his lips and slid one hand down his body to cup his penis, feeling the press and swell of it against his fingers. He had been roused all day; his legs and shoulders trembled with tension despite his efforts to still them. He shuddered and began to stroke, gently, trying to think of nothing but his own flesh and the bed and the floor under his knees.

Instead, he remembered the icy shock of water, the angle of Ray's back in the locker room, the grip of Ray's hands on a baseball bat. He remembered the curve of Ray's fingers and the strong muscles in his arms.

He closed his eyes and tightened his grip, but he knew the cause was lost. This madness inside him, this fierceness which he could not control, had him. Ray's head was between his legs; Ray's beard softly spiky against his skin and Ray's hands hot and damp on his thighs.

This would not do; it would not do: he could not stop the motion of his hand and the slide of skin and the jerk of his hips. He imagined himself outside of his body, watching the light from the window flash off of his shoulderblades as he moved. He imagined the flash of Ray's teeth and tongue and the roughness of Ray's hair and the color of Ray's skin in moonlight.

And he lost that, too, in the heat of his own skin and in the sudden awareness that this was nothing more than his own obsession and loneliness. The pain of it wracked him, and there was nothing for it but to press into his palm and to fall into the instinctive rhythm of his flesh.

He bit his lip and came, semen splashing against his hand. He dropped his weight back onto his heels, pressing his wet palm against his stomach. After a moment, he wrapped his arms around his chest and bent over, holding it in, holding it in, holding it in.