It had seemed like such a simple question: "Where are we going?"

          Benton Fraser's question is a literal one and Ray Vecchio, driving the Buick Riviera in the way that he does – elbow on door, a dismissive, almost contemptuous attitude towards the other traffic on the road – answers it literally.

          "Your place, Fraser. Like we do every evening after I pick you up from work." Ray smiles a smile of fond exasperation.

          Fraser looks across at his unofficial partner, his friend, ally and confidante, his soul-mate and lover. These states of being having been reached in this particular order, Fraser knows that the exasperation is merely for the benefit of other people.

          How can it be otherwise when not one person outside their most intimate circle – themselves alone – knows of the existence of such a bond as they have between them?

          It had seemed like such a simple question.

          It might take a night and a day to find an answer, only for them to realise that it's not the answer they want and, therefore, no answer at all.

Lying on Fraser's bed amidst the rumpled sheets, with the pillows askew from the surge and swell of their love-making, Ray threads a finger through a damp curl of Fraser's dark hair.

          Fraser turns his head at the touch, and smiles.

          Through a mirror-smile, Ray speaks softly. "You asked me where we were going, Benny. Remember?"

          "I do."

          "You remember what I said?"

          "The gist of it, or precisely?"

          "Whatever."

          "You said we were on our way here."

          Shifting his body in order to hold his lover closer to him, Ray kisses the nose on Fraser's upturned face. "That wasn't all of it, was it?"

          A shadow crosses Fraser's eyes as he looks away. "No, Ray. It wasn't."

          The shadow darkens, even in the light of the warm summer afternoon, and moves from the one face to the other. "Didn't think so. Wanna tell me the rest?"

          "Not really, Ray."

          "Tell me the rest, Benny."

          "Yes, Ray."

It had seemed like such a simple question.

          Fraser cannot find the tone of the original inquiry. "Where are we, that is you and I, Ray – our relationship – going?"

          "D'you mean can we carry on like this, in secret?"

          "In a manner of speaking, yes. Is it only ever going to be you and I who are aware of the love we feel for each other?"

          Ray sighs gustily. It helps to blow away an approaching flood of tears. "I don't know, Benny."

          Fraser turns his face to look at his lover again. To look into his eyes, through his gaze, directly at the honesty in his soul. "But you don't think so, Ray."

          A kiss on Fraser's forehead, and Ray can't refuse to respond, and he can't lie. "No. I don't think so."

          The woollen blanket from the bed is within reach. Fraser tugs it over his body. "Do you believe that will become impossible to live with?"

          Ray tucks one end of the blanket around his lover's shoulders, pulls the other end over himself, and falls silent for a while. When he speaks again, he shivers. "It already is, isn't it?"

          Fraser draws his knees up, curling himself towards a foetal position. "Yes, Ray. It is."

Sometime later, with the light of the warm summer evening casting gold through the open window, it is necessary to decide, once and for all, where they are going.

          Fraser finds his voice and some courage. "A perfect world, Ray. Imagine a perfect world."

          Ray shrugs, irritated, and then imagines. "Okay. I have a perfect world right here, in my head."

          Such games are played the world over. The imperfect world over. It doesn't matter that they are no longer children; the rules still apply. "It's the start of a perfect day in this perfect world, Ray. What are you going to do?"

          "Make love to you."

          A pause. Eyebrows rise. "And then?"

          A blank look. "Oh." The corners of Ray's mouth twitch. "Actually, that's gonna be the whole day, Benny."

          Fraser blushes and smiles. "Be serious, Ray. What will you do?"

          "Okay. I'll get the family together an' announce to them that we're in love. Lots of applause an' cheering an' tears of happiness. Then, with all these joyful noises ringing in our ears, an' with the blessings of the whole family, we'll go to the twenty-seventh and make the same announcement. Cue embarrassing amount of political correctness. Ditto at the consulate, an' then we'll go to the prettiest church in Chicago an' exchange vows, rings, an' bodily fluids. Yeah, well that'll be some time later, after the reception, where everyone we've ever known, good and bad, is gonna be there to wish us all the very best, an' then it'll be off into the sunset in the Riv, or a dog-sled, if you prefer, to live happily ever after."

          "I believe I will like that very much, Ray."

          A wicked smile splits Ray's serious face. "Me too, especially the exchanging of bodily fluids."

          Fraser leans across the table to place a kiss alongside that wicked smile. "All right, Ray. Be serious now. Imagine an imperfect world. The start of an imperfect day in an imperfect world. What will you do?"

          "Worst case scenario, you mean?"

          "Yes, Ray. The worst case scenario."

          "I'll do the getting the family together thing, an' the we're in love thing an' all that, yeah? Frannie will slap my face for perverting you and making you untouchable. Maria an' Tony will take the kids somewhere safe" – Ray pauses to make a small gesture with his hands – "an' Ma? Ma ain't even gonna look at me. Half a dozen lawyers'll tell me I don't exist, and have no claim on anything I owned or was left. Word goes round I'm a fag and I'll be fired, after way too much verbal and physical abuse. I'll have no job, no money, no home, no family, nothin'. Everyone I love – except you – will reject me, with varying degrees of violence."

          Fraser looks as if he's in pain. A hand, adrenaline-trembling, touches his drawn face. He blinks and tears dribble down his cheeks. He finds his voice again and asks his last question.

          "In the real world." It's barely a whisper. Fraser looks away, wipes his eyes, clears his throat. "In reality, Ray, when you make that announcement, what do you believe will actually happen?"

          "I don't want to talk about this anymore, Benny."

          "Neither do I, but we cannot deny that it must be talked about. In that we are the only people in the world who know anything at all about this particular subject it is our responsibility to do the talking. Whether or not we actually want to do so."

          Ray slams his hands down on the table. The suddenness, the viciousness of this action causes Fraser to recoil as though from a rifle shot. On regaining his equilibrium, he realises Ray no longer sits opposite him. For a moment, Fraser simply looks at the empty space, the emptiness of the space where Ray was.

          Only when Ray stomps across the unvarnished boards and grabs the back of his chair, spins it sharply round and brings his angry face within a hair's breadth of his own, is Fraser absolutely certain he isn't holding a real rifle which fires real and deadly ammunition. He glances briefly at his hands; visual confirmation.

          "I don't wanna talk about it! I don't wanna be one of only two people in the world who know just how bad I want you. I don't want the responsibility! Not knowin', not talkin' about knowin', not knowin' about knowin' or nothin'! Not none of it! I wanna be allowed to love you, to be in love with you, to tell anyone who asks me that the only thing gets me through each and every day is the thought of being with you. I don't care if I do gotta talk about it! I don't wanna talk about it! D'you understand me?"

          Real and deadly ammunition. Fraser holds Ray's piercing gaze with tranquillity. Ray, unable to break this composure, slowly stands upright and walks away.

"We both know what's gonna happen, Fraser. I'm gonna get married again, have kids, be respectable. A well-respected family man, upstanding member of this fine community. You're gonna be best man, 'cause you can't say no. An' you're gonna get to make a speech, Benny! You're gonna tell everyone about all the times I nearly ended up dead 'cause of you, and they're gonna laugh. An' you're gonna tell them how I got my revenge by puttin' a bullet in your back. I'm gonna laugh then." Ray turns to face his lover. He can't see him. "You okay with that?"

          Fraser sits at the table, hands clasped together, knuckles white. He nods; he has no voice to speak with and less courage to speak of.

          "Few years down the line, I'm gonna have kids. A son – to carry on the Vecchio name, you understand – and a beautiful daughter who's gonna grow up to break hearts. She's gonna adore you. You're gonna be her favourite uncle. You're gonna teach my kids how to fish, yeah? And how to build a fire. And walk blind through a forest with the sun on your nose. And know the difference between seeing justice done and getting revenge. I'm gonna teach them how to shoot pool. An' when they're gone to bed and my beautiful wife is out visiting friends, I'm gonna spend time with you. You bein' my best friend and all that an' when we're together, in secret, I'm gonna hold your hands in mine and tell you how much I love you and I'm gonna kiss you and tell you again and I..."

          Real and deadly ammunition. And it had seemed like such a simple question. Fraser covers his face with his hands and sits in silence. In secret. Ray wipes his face and carries on talking in spite of not wanting to, because he knows he has to. He's the only other person who can.

          "I'm gonna tell you I love you an' I miss bein' with you. An' I'm gonna tell you how much I need you an' how bad I want you an' you're gonna look at me an' I'll wanna make love to you. Gonna ask if that's okay – Can I please? – an' wait for you to say no an' I know you won't an' when you say yes, I'm gonna cry. Happy tears, sad tears, whatever. An' we're gonna make love an' it'll be so damned good! It's always so damned good, Fraser! Too good for me an' never good enough for you but you're not gonna complain. You're gonna just lie there an' open yourself to me an' I'm gonna take exactly what I need, what I want from you. I'm gonna have it all. Beautiful wife, wonderful kids, outstanding career, respect of the community. An' I'm gonna have you too. My cherry on the cake. You'll be my cherry, won't you?"

          The only other person who can talk about this says Yes. He says it quietly but there is no doubt in the quietness.

          "An' after we make love I'm gonna tell you over and over and over I love you I love you I love you an' I gotta shower before I get dressed so's I can go home. Socially acceptable. Morally upstanding. Life's gonna be just great, just perfect, so long as I ignore the choking feeling. The blackness inside me. The part of my soul deals with truth an' all that kinda stuff? Yeah, that's gonna rot inside of me, gettin' blacker and blacker and creepin' through me like a cancer. A little bit more of me's gonna rot away every time."

          Fraser moves to stand behind Ray at the window. He puts his arms around his lover, kisses him on the back of the neck, holds him. "You can't think like that, Ray."

          A laugh mists the window. "I can, Fraser. An' I will. We both know it. An' y'know somethin' else? It's all gonna be for nothin' 'cause when I'm old an' all my hair's gone, my beautiful wife's gonna tell me she knows about you. She's gonna pour me a cup of coffee at breakfast an' say she's known since the beginning. How? I ask, an' she's gonna tell me, I saw the way you looked at him on our wedding day. An' now it's him or us. Choose me and you get to keep the house, the kids, the job, the life, the lie. Choose him, you get nothin'. Less than nothin'. Choose what society say I can have or lose everything."

          "Stop it, Ray. You can't possibly know it'll be like this."

          Ray doesn't hear, even though his lover's mouth – how he loves to devour that mouth! – is against his ear. "But what's the difference? What society says I can have ain't enough. I want it all."

          He turns in Fraser's arms. Turns to face the man he loves. "And I'm gonna call you, Fraser. Ask you to meet me somewhere so we can talk. Somewhere open, safe, socially acceptable and I'm gonna tell you what I've decided. And I'm gonna tell you I've chosen family. And you're gonna look at me with these beautiful blue eyes" – closed, waiting to be kissed – "and you're gonna do that thing with your eyebrow and you're gonna say I understand, Ray. You're gonna wish me luck and then leave, not forgetting to leave enough money to cover your half of the check. And I'm never gonna see you again. And the rest of me's gonna turn black and die."

          Fraser shakes his head, his eyes shut tight, brow furrowed. Ray smoothes his lover's forehead, kisses the closed eyes again and then the mouth. Then he asks: "How do you think it's gonna go?"

          The dark head lifts and blue eyes regard him with complete conviction. "Ray, I will do whatever I have to do. I will leave if you ask me to leave. I will stay if you ask me to stay. If I stay, I will be to you, I will do for you, whatever you ask. I will be your best man. I will be your children's favourite uncle. I will be anything and everything you want me to be, no matter what or when or why."

          "I can't ask you to do that, Fraser. I won't! It ain't right!"

          Ever the realist, Fraser shushes Ray with a gentle kiss. "No, it isn't right. Neither is it right that we live as we do."

          "So what's left?"

          "We get your family together as soon as possible and tell them the truth."

Ray paces for hours. He paces round the compass, through ten thousand degrees. He is silent throughout his circular voyage, silent as Fraser sits on the bed, amidst the storm-tossed sheets and pillows and watches him.

          At the end of the summer-short night, Ray reaches a decision. His pacing slows and his eyes lock onto Fraser's tired gaze. "We don't have to tell them. We don't have to tell anyone."

          Tired eyes close slowly, then open. "Ray, listen to yourself. We cannot continue like this. This situation has to be resolved in one way or another."

          Ray stops pacing, and stands in the middle of the room, gently swaying and staring. "How?"

          Fraser moves from the bed to take Ray in his arms. "I want to be able to come to you openly, love you openly, spontaneously, without fear. I want to be able to face your family and know that they accept, are maybe even happy. Even if they know and aren't happy and only come round when they see how happy we are. I want you to myself, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three hundred and sixty four and a quarter days a year, until the day I die. I want to be able to whisk you away for a weekend with only fifteen minutes and a bunch of roses notice, without having to conceal how much I love you."

          "In a perfect world, Benny," Ray whispers, shaking his head. Then he looks directly into his lover's eyes, his face devoid of any evidence that he might be doubting himself or what he has to say. "Is this world perfect, Fraser?"

          "I don't understand what you mean."

          "Our world, the one we share here, just you and me. D'you think it's perfect?"

          Fraser smiles at the childlike tone. "Yes, Ray. I do."

          "And if this was all there was, we'd be happy?"

          Such games are played in childhood the world over. They can be children here, in their own world. "Yes, I believe so."

          "So, if we make it so this is all there is, things will be perfect."

          "I'm not sure I follow you."

          Ray takes Fraser's hands in his and kisses him. "Just come with me. Let me show you."

They go to the Vecchio family home. Ray makes absolutely certain that the house will be empty, will echo with his voice and Fraser's only, until tomorrow.

          As the heavy front door closes behind Francesca's retreating back, Ray turns to Fraser and smiles. "I can't get the family together. I can't announce that we're in love, so no applause no cheerin', no tears of happiness, no blessing. We can't go to the twenty-seventh an' tell them. We can't go to the consulate an' tell them. I got no idea where the prettiest church in Chicago is, so we can't get to exchange vows and rings there. Does mean we don't have to sit through speeches an' everyone wishin' us all the best while lyin' through their teeth. You, me an' the wolf see the sun set through the windshield of the Riv as we head west to live happily ever after."

          Fraser sits on the second stair, and smiles. "I believe I will like that very much, Ray. However, I should point out that you have omitted something."

          Kneeling on the lower stair, Ray takes Fraser's face in his hands and kisses his mouth with a fierce passion. Without releasing him, Ray moves backwards until he is kneeling on the hall floor. Fraser slides from the second stair to the first stair to the floor, and sits cross-legged in front of his lover.

          Ray's shirt is unbuttoned and removed, folded to pillow Fraser's head on the cool floor. Fraser's shirt buttons are overlooked; Ray simply tears the shirt front apart, then runs his tongue over Fraser's exposed flesh, even as his hands are unbuttoning his lover's faded blue denim jeans.

          For several minutes they lie there in the hallway, on the floor, flesh against flesh, mouth against mouth.

          Without warning, Fraser twists underneath Ray to put the man beneath him. Clothes warmed by soft, hot skin lie cooling, strewn on the floor's silky surface. The smell of sex drifts across the hallway, curling into and sweetened by the thick perfume from a fistful of crimson roses standing upright, heads held high, in a vase on the floor.

          Ray opens his eyes at the sound of his name.

          "I want us to go upstairs," Fraser murmurs. "I want to make love to you in your bed, in your room, in your house."

          "We can do that, Fraser," Ray whispers back. "If you wanna carry me."

          Fraser lifts Ray into his arms with ease, carries him to his room and lays him down on his bed. They kiss one more time before Fraser moves to kneel between his lover's feet.

          "Perfect night, Benny," Ray says. "What you gonna do?"

          "I'm going to caress your penis with my lips and my tongue, and I'm not going to stop until you come in my mouth. Then I'm going to ask you to do the same for me."

          Ray lets out a shuddering breath. "Oh, boy," he smiles. "Okay, you gotta deal."

          Fraser smiles back. "I love you, Ray." Lowering his head, he closes his mouth around his lover's tumescent penis.

          Ray's back arches and his head goes back into the soft pillows. Fraser spares him neither a look nor any mercy. He is relentless. Saliva dribbles into the short, tight curls at the base of Ray's penis, slowly down over his balls, clinging to the sweat moist skin as it traces a path due south over his perineum, down into the dimple of his anus.

          Ray's hands flutter over Fraser's head on the down stroke. As the dark head comes up, Ray takes two handfuls of hair and shoves down hard. Fraser allows him this, draws him deeper into his mouth, lives with the discomfort because it's only a matter of time.

          Now. "Ahhhh..." Ray's voice rises in a crescendo to a scream. "Ahhhh... oh fuck fuck fuck, Fraser!" he yells, going rigid, coming into the hollow of Fraser's throat.

          Fraser sucks Ray dry and then releases him. "I love you," he says again, his voice tight in his throat, the words sticky in his mouth. His bruised lips shine, as do his eyes. "Nothing will ever change that."

          Ray puts out his arms and gathers Fraser to him. "Who gave you the right to be so good at that, Benny?"

          "You did. Make love to me, Ray."

          Fraser doesn't say a word as Ray pushes him onto his back, holds him down amidst soft sheets and down-filled pillows. He murmurs 'I love you' over and over and over as Ray covers him with kisses, explores him with his fingers. He gasps a breath as Ray's mouth closes hot and wet around his erect penis.

          He breathes in synchrony with Ray's tonguing, with his licking and sucking. He pants hard as Ray's throat opens to him. He chants his lover's name as his body reaches the point of no return. He shouts out loud, so loud as he comes, flooding Ray's throat with semen, salty and warm. He trembles as he is sucked dry and licked clean.

          He sighs as Ray lays down beside him. "That was perfect, Ray, just perfect. Thank you so much."

          "Uh-huh," Ray nods, wiping his mouth. He tugs a sheet over the two of them and sighs deeply. "Benny, there's something I gotta ask you, and I need you to be honest with me."

          Fraser turns his head and frowns up at his lover. "Am I not always honest?"

          Ray nods. "Yes, you are but what I need now is the very first thought that comes into your head. I don't want you to think, or ponder, or debate, or weigh up the issues, or have a whole conversation with the voices in your head. I gotta have your first answer."

          Fraser is silent for a moment and then smiles. "What if my first thought happens to be one regarding the hairs up your nose?"

          Ray laughs out loud, looks down at Fraser's face, his beaming smile. "I don't think it's gonna be, Fraser, but if it is we'll deal with it, okay?"

          "Of course, Ray," Fraser agrees, pushing himself up so his head and Ray's head are at the same level.

          Ray regards him solemnly. "Remember you told me if I asked you to stay with me, you would? You said you'd do anything I asked?"

          "'I will be to you, I will do for you, whatever you ask.'" Fraser quotes, verbatim. "Yes, I remember."

          "And you meant it?" Ray looks down at his hands, loosely clasped in his lap. "I mean, really meant it."

          Fraser twists slightly to get a better look at his lover's serious face. "Yes, Ray. I meant every word."

          Ray takes a deep breath to steady his trembling. "If I asked you to be with me for the rest of your life, would you do it?"

          "Yes, Ray." Fraser's acceptance is unambiguous. "Ray, when do you intend to ask the question for which you require my honest, first-thought-to-come-into-my-head answer?"

          Ray shrugs. "I gotta find the right words," he says quietly. "No use if I don't got the right words."

          "Ray, as long as I can understand the whole of what you say, the individual words needn't necessarily be the ones you might consider the most appropriate."

          Ray sits in silence.

          "Just tell me when you want my first answer, Ray. We can just talk until then."

          "Yeah, we can do that," Ray nods. "Okay, so tell me honestly, Fraser. First answer you got, I want. If I ask you to sacrifice everything you have so's we can be together, will you do it?"

          Fraser turns Ray's face towards him. He looks deep into the green eyes that hold his own. They are filled with so much love, so much need, so much hope. One second passes, and it lasts a lifetime. "Yes, Ray. I will."

From the car they gaze out over the lake. They hold hands and they kiss. Openly now, spontaneously, without fear.

          Then, knowing that they could be observed at their journey's penultimate destination, they make love.

          From the car, they gaze out at the lake for a long time. In their perfect world, it is the first time. In their perfect world, what seemed like such a simple question receives its final answer. They drive in silence to their final destination.

"Benny?"

          "Mmm? Did you say something, Ray?"

"I did. You were on your home planet again."

          "Sorry?"

"Lights on an' no one home? Earth to Fraser?"

          "Really?"

"Miles away, Benny."

          "I was thinking, Ray."

"Again?"

          "I was going to ask you something."

"Okay. Well, go on then, Benny."

          "To tell you the truth, I have no idea what it was I was going to say."

"So we can go now, yeah?"

          ""Where are we going?"

"Your place, Fraser. Like we do every evening after I pick you up from work."