The sequel to Tableau: Red and Gray -- NC-17 Ray/Fraser/Ray

Tawny, Cream, and Olive

The Italian moves first. Taking his hands out of his pockets, he walks to the nightstand. He quietly turns the small lamp off, and the room becomes much more intimately lit by the one remaining lamp. He pauses, looking across the bed at the Mountie, and then past him to the blond detective. Uncertain, he hesitates.

Ray Kowalski moves from the table near the door towards the end of the large bed. The button at his fly is undone, but he takes this moment to take his T-shirt off over his head, instead of undoing his pants. He throws the shirt in the general direction of his jacket and belt on the chair at the table. In the dimmer light, his tawny skin seems even tawnier.

Fraser is frozen, his cheeks even ruddier than they were before, as if he has been running or exerting himself outside in cold weather. His hat turns around and around in his hands. With the first removal of clothing, he can no longer look either man in the eye, and so his gaze drops to the coverlet on the bed. Because he has done this with each of these men separately, does not mean doing this with both of them comes so easily or without considerable mingling of emotions.

Ray Vecchio, on the other side of the bed, takes his cue from Kowalski. He takes his turtleneck off slowly, over his head, leaving just his pants and sleeveless undershirt. The ribbed cotton with wide arm and neck holes shows his olive skin and the hair on his chest. He half folds his turtleneck and sets it on the little table next to the bed, next to where he is standing.

He looks up, and the blond is looking at him, but with a questioning glance and a slight tilt of his spiky haired head towards Fraser. Ray looks at Fraser, frozen in his red and black. The Italian's glance slides back to Kowalski, but now his eyes are questioning too, and the slight shrug of his shoulder communicates his uncertainty to the detective.

They regard each other, and the Mountie, with similarly bewildered, concerned gazes. Then Ray Kowalski takes a few hesitant steps until he is standing next to the Mountie. Fraser gives him a sidelong glance and flushes a deeper red. The blond nods at Vecchio, and tilts his head, gesturing for the Italian to come around to the other side of the bed where he and Fraser are standing.

As Ray Vecchio begins moving, Ray Kowalski puts his hand over Fraser's, so that both are holding the Mountie's Stetson. Fraser looks up, eyes wide with -- fear? anticipation? want? -- and Ray slides the hat out of his partner's nervous grasp. A look passes between them and Ray steps back to the round table with chairs closer to the door. If it were his hat, he'd send it sailing in the general direction of the table like a Frisbee -- but it is not his hat, and he is mindful of this as he sets it gently on the table.

By this time Ray Vecchio is at the end of the bed. Kowalski, on his way back from the table by the door, flicks his eyes from Vecchio to Fraser, and the Italian understands. The two men approach the Mountie, who is stiff with controlling any involuntary movement of his body. But he is at least looking at them now. His face is impassive and expressionless, his features composed (almost unnaturally still) -- but the high color in his cheeks reveals the intensity of his discomfiture... and something else.

Ray Vecchio and Ray Kowalski stop, just within the square yard of personal space around Fraser. Kowalski catches Fraser's eye when the Mountie looks at him, and raises his eyebrows, inclining his head toward the bed with a smile that's mostly tentative, but a bit suggestive. The Mountie flushes, and looks away, but the corners of his mouth turn up.

Ray Vecchio watches the exchange, and glances at Kowalski. The blond looks at him, then steps forward and then behind the Mountie. This is not entirely easy, as Fraser is very close to the night stand next to the bed with the phone and lamp on it. In fact, squeezing his lean physique behind Fraser's requires moving the Mountie forward, so Ray gently grabs Fraser's upper arms and sidles behind him. The Mountie closes his eyes, but lets himself be prodded forward.

From behind the dark head of hair, Kowalski peers over at Vecchio, and jerks his head with a definite "Come here" gesture to the Italian. At the same time, he slides his hands up the Mountie's arms from behind, to his shoulders. He squeezes the broad muscles and notes how Fraser releases a breath like an air brake on a truck. He squeezes again, feeling how tense and trembling Fraser really is, a trembling that has been visibly controlled but can not be missed once touching him.

He slips his hands forward, pressing his front up against Fraser's back, and peers around the Mountie's head as he gets a grip on the collar. The tearing sound of the Velcro fastener stirs Ray Vecchio, and he steps up to Fraser. What Kowalski has begun, he will finish he begins unbuttoning the brass buttons, slowly, noting Fraser's breathing -- not entirely even or controlled -- and watching for signs of refusal or reluctance.

But the Mountie has his eyes closed, and he turns his head a bit to the side as Ray undoes his buttons and the other Ray massages his shoulders. Slowly he relaxes -- his trembling eases with the loosening of his shoulders and upper back, no longer requiring an effort to control. But with not controlling it comes the feeling of being on a roller coaster -- with each move either of them makes, the Rays repeatedly make his heart leap. It feels at times as if it has jumped up to his throat.

Vecchio unbuttons the last button, and opens the Serge jacket, but only slightly. He waits.

Ray Kowalski's hands slip forward from Fraser's shoulders, to grasp the unbuttoned edges of the jacket and pull it apart. He is about to remove the Mountie's coat from behind, much as a butler or personal servant would.

But Fraser stirs finally, opening his eyes and turning his head. He looks directly into the eyes of his Italian partner, sees the green eyes wide with desire, but the hesitant expression and solemn set of Ray's mouth.

He turns his head again, to give Kowalski a sidelong glance, and lets his Serge be removed, helping Ray by shrugging out of it. Knowing how careful the Mountie would be with it, Kowalski against steps over to the table by the door. He carefully drapes the Serge jacket over the chair opposite the one from which his black leather jacket hangs.

When he turns and looks at the two men, he sees that Fraser now has his forehead pressed against Ray Vecchio's shoulder. But still the Canadian's hands hang at his side. Vecchio holds one arm around Fraser, the other lightly grips the Mountie's upper arm.

Vecchio looks at Kowalski, his eyes clouded. Uncertain, he presses his lips together in a thin line. He clearly wants to proceed, but also clearly wants a definitive gesture of intention from the Mountie.

Kowalski considers a moment, and then walks over to both of them. Standing very close to the two men, he slips one hand around Fraser's waist, and the other around Vecchio's. When the Mountie lifts his head from the Italian's shoulder and looks at him, Kowalski leans in and kisses his cheek roughly.

But it is enough, apparently. Fraser raises his head, and steals an arm around his original partner, and his other arm around his latest partner, and squeezes them both so hard to him that the two men are breathless. As they disentangle themselves slightly from his grasp, the two men look at each other briefly. A single, mutual thought inspires them.

Kowalski takes the right suspender, Vecchio the left -- and down they come. Vecchio untucks Fraser's Henley shirt from the front of his pants; Kowalski untucks it from the back. The two men together each grab one side of the shirt, and lift the seam before Fraser can protest or move away. But he does not protest at all, just closes his eyes and lifts his arms to facilitate their removal of his shirt.

The shirt comes off and Kowalski lets Vecchio have it -- who tosses it over his shoulder behind them. Now the creamy, smoothly muscled torso is naked. Kowalski touches it, slowly sliding his fingertips over it. Fraser opens his eyes, and looks at his blond partner, who smiles slightly and then cups the Mountie's jaw for a slow, exploratory kiss. Once again, Fraser exhales into him, and Ray Kowalski breathes his partner's breath because he wants to, not because he has to.

While they kiss, Ray Vecchio strokes the other side of Fraser's pale chest, almost reverently. When Kowalski's and Vecchio's hands encounter each other in the middle of Fraser's chest, Ray's and Fraser's mouths part, and Kowalski slides his hand down the darker skin of Ray Vecchio's forearm. With an encouraging nod from Kowalski, Ray Vecchio leans in for his own taste of the Mountie's mouth.

The kiss becomes long and exploratory, until Ray Kowalski gently shoves both men and they break apart and half sit, half fall onto the bed. Standing over them, he now looks quite satisfied, smiling a sly grin. His pants are loose on him, but for one large pressure point. He unzips his already unbuttoned pants, opens them, the pants fall to the floor at his ankles. He steps out of them, backward, looking down so as not to trip.

Neither the Italian nor the Canadian can miss the obvious bulge in Kowalski's briefs. Fraser flushes deeply, and averts his eyes for a moment -- but can not help looking back again at the outline of Kowalski's erect, circumcised organ under the tight, white, cotton underwear.

Vecchio stands up from the bed, deciding the time has come as well. His back to Fraser, he unbuttons his black pants, unzips, lets them fall, and steps out of them too.

If Fraser's cheeks were red seeing one partner's obvious excitement, he is now apple red at seeing both. The two near-naked men look at each other and both break into goofy smiles they both are wearing nothing but socks and briefs.

Kowalski picks up a foot to remove his socks and hops about a bit, getting both socks off. Vecchio, much more dignified, sits down on the bed to remove his socks.

Fraser, still in his pants -- getting tighter by the minute -- looks from one man to the other as they do this. He has never, in all his years, ever imagined a scenario such as this occurring, much less occurring in his personal life, and it shows on his face.

Socks gone, the two men turn their attention back to the Mountie. With a quick glance at Fraser to make sure it's all right, Vecchio leans in for another of those long, probing kisses. And Kowalski steps forward and reaches for the top of Fraser's pants... The Mountie's fumbling fingers attempt to assist him without looking, occupied as he is with Ray Vecchio's mouth. But the blond gets the pants unbuttoned and almost unzipped -- there's a sizable lump preventing the complete unzipping of his fly. Since the two men are far more concerned with swapping spit, he pushes them both by their shoulders, and they fall back onto the bed. They break their kiss, looking up at him; but Kowalski is intent on unzipping these pants. Then, he bends down to pull them off Fraser only to discover --

"My boots," Fraser sighs in a whisper when Ray Kowalski tugs at the laces.

"Fraser..." the blond detective growls. Even his nimble fingers can not undo all these laces that quickly. The Mountie sits up, and begins unlacing one, while Kowalski unlaces the other. Normally, Fraser would unlace them both to the third eyelet from the last, knowing that would be enough to get his foot and leg out but still lace them properly when he put them on... but Ray is too impatient. He unlaces about half the boot, uses the slack to loosen the rest of the still tied laces, and picks up the Mountie's foot.

With a tremendous pull that almost leaves him sitting on his skinny buttocks on the floor, he gets the one boot off. Fraser isn't done unlacing the other boot, but the detective doesn't care. He pushes Fraser's hands aside, loosens the few laces that remain tied, and then picks up the booted foot and wriggles it free.

Once the boots are both off Fraser's feet, Kowalski figures he's got what was necessary to accomplish the next step. So he steps back over, right next to the bed and Fraser and Vecchio.

Vecchio is laying back on the bed, his feet still on the floor, but lazily watching the two of them. When Kowalski looks at him, and smiles at the languid enjoyment on Vecchio's face, Fraser looks at the Italian too, wondering what Ray Kowalski found so amusing. When he's not looking, Kowalski pushes him firmly but gently back down on the bed. Now Fraser is lying across Ray Vecchio's arm, which was stretched out behind him.

But Kowalski doesn't notice because now he is pulling Fraser's pants off, over his thighs, his knees, his calves, and finally over his feet. Once the pants are off, they get thrown in the general direction of the Serge and the table. He'll skip the socks... Fraser can do those himself.

By this time, Vecchio is nuzzling Fraser's cheek, and stroking his stomach, and the obvious arousal on the Mountie's part is motivation enough for Ray Kowalski to just want to jump on top of both of them... but he refrains.

Instead, he sits down next to Fraser, and lies back on the bed too, though raised up a bit on his elbows. This way he knows what is going on. When the nuzzling-turned-kiss between Fraser and Vecchio breaks, he leans over and licks the side of Fraser's neck. This gets the Mountie turning in his direction, eyes clouded with desire, and then they kiss and it is Vecchio who looks on.

But not for long. He has wondered sometimes what it must be like, what it must look like to see Fraser kissing him, sucking him, making love to him... and now he will see, if not what it looks like when Fraser does it to him, what it looks like when Fraser does it, period -- in this case, to Kowalski. Yet he can't just lie there and watch -- not with all this lovely, pale flesh to be explored again, as he has so many times before -- and yet not as he has so many times before, since it will be in the presence of a third person.

And his hand starts to slide down Fraser's chest, down his stomach, to his navel... and from there slides over hot, white cotton to caress the Mountie through his underwear.

Fraser shudders, his tremble as noticeable through his tongue, Kowalski realizes, as through the rest of his body.

He sneaks a hand down, only to find Vecchio's hand stroking the Mountie's cock through his boxers. So Ray slides his hand further below and caresses Fraser's balls. The pitch of the Mountie's breathing goes up another notch and increases in speed. His mouth is being devoured by Kowalski, the two men are purposefully exciting him further, and then there is the warm wetness of Vecchio's mouth on his nipple. He squeezes his eyes shut so hard that he sees stars.

One of them can not wait -- he does not know who -- and the waistband of his boxers is drawn back. The cooler air from the room enters his underwear and the contrast makes him realize how hot and hard he is. He is rapidly losing control under the dual onslaught; with his eyes closed he can not tell who is doing what. He is not sure that it matters.

The hand holding the waistband of his boxers draws them down, and another hand settles on his cock simultaneously, stroking him with a firm, sure grip, tight and rapid. The involuntary bucking of his hips prompts the boxer-pulling hand to completely shove his underwear down to his knees.

He feels the stubble of Ray Vecchio on his cheek, and Kowalski relinquishes his mouth. Fraser barely has time to open his eyes, and roll his head slightly, before his mouth is now possessed by Vecchio's. He closes his eyes again. The hot tongue exploring his mouth withdraws, and he can not help but try to keep it in his mouth with suction. He feels the Italian's smile against his lips, and the tongue is back, and they play that way, in, out, insert, withdraw, with Ray's tongue in his mouth.

Meanwhile, the blond detective's mouth is moving in a meandering path down his chest. He can not tell who is stroking his cock, or who is pinching his nipple. The mouth on his other nipple must be Ray Kowalski, but then who is now stroking his balls, cupping them together, tugging on them? He sighs a deep, relaxed breath into Ray Vecchio's mouth, now completely surrendered.

With his surrender, voluntary movement returns to his hands. He seeks and finds the hot mounds of erect flesh hidden under cotton on either side of him. Stroking each through their underwear, he finds the wet spot on each man's underwear. Both hands seek and find the waistbands of the two Rays. After only a moment's hesitation, both hands slip under the waistbands of each man's underwear.

He grabs each man's cock around the base and pulls strongly up. Now the mouth devouring his stills, as does the mouth at his nipple. Two heavy exhalations from both men tell him his caress was pleasurable. So he slides his hand down on each shaft again, pulling up slowly, with a tight grip. He listens to the timbre of their moans again -- and again as he does another slow, excruciating, tight stroke. Ray Vecchio's mouth has left his mouth, but Fraser merely lies on the bed, feet on the floor, smiling, with his eyes closed. He gives each one more stroke and then stops.

First one, and then the other, begins thrusting into his hands. The mouth on his nipple is gone now, too, the cool air in the room hardening his nipple. He feels the men shift on either side of him. They continue thrusting into his stroking hands, but he feels them move over him. The Mountie opens his eyes to see the darker Vecchio kissing the blond Kowalski over his chest-- a sloppy, hungry kiss. The mix of dark skin and hair with lighter skin and hair is lovely. The hands which had stilled on his organs now pick up where they left off -- stroking his cock, stroking his balls. He sighs audibly, looking happily up at his partners kissing over him.

They both turn and look at him when they hear him sigh. Two pairs of eyes, pupils wide, one pair green and one pair a mercurial blue gray. They flick a glance at each other, and then by some mutual, unspoken decision, Ray Kowalski's mouth descends on Fraser's, while Vecchio's travels down Fraser's chest and nibbles a nipple (making Fraser squirm). The mouth continues to move down, across the Canadian's trembling, lean stomach, down to the navel, and beyond.

The Italian rubs his face in the thatch of hair, stroking Fraser's cock up and out of the way, and then gently removes Fraser's grip from his cock. He scoots up on the bed to get a better angle. Now perpendicular to the Mountie, he lies on his stomach and slowly sucks the head of Fraser's cock into his mouth... continuing slowly to move his entire mouth down the shaft until his lips meet the fuzz of dark hair.

The explosive breath exhaled into Kowalski's mouth makes him pull back a bit, to see what's going on. Fraser's eyes squeeze shut, and Kowalski looks up, to see the dark length of Fraser's cock slowly revealed by Vecchio's mouth. He smiles, more to himself than anyone, since Vecchio's eyes are shut in concentration, and Fraser's are shut in exquisite pleasure. The blond detective pulls himself out of Fraser's grasp and gets completely on the bed. He settles down just above the Mountie's head, crossing his legs tailor style. His erect cock, bobbing with the movement, trails a string of precum from his abdomen.

He leans down, and watches the Mountie's face. He has never gotten such a good look at what Fraser looks like while being orally serviced and wants to see. From this angle, he can also watch as Fraser's cock disappears into Vecchio's mouth and throat. It inspires him to grab himself and begin stroking.

But he does place one hand on Fraser's cheek, stroking it gently. The Mountie's eyes open, unfocused and unseeing at first, and then snap onto his. Each sees the other upside down, but it doesn't matter to either. Ray watches the slow creep of a blush redden his partner's face, but notices that even that can not make Fraser break his gaze -- or stop from biting his lip, or panting, or squinching his eyes at the corner's as Ray Vecchio's mouth continues its excruciating caresses.

Kowalski watches, fascinated, as Fraser's expression reflects in little twitches and movements what he is experiencing. Fraser watches Ray watch him... the slight smile and open longing on Ray's face gradually cools the blush on his face. The Mountie's hand reaches up for the hand on his cheek, and when Ray Kowalski takes his hand, he grips it tightly. With every incremental increase in his excitement, his grip gets tighter and sweatier; Ray watches Fraser's other hand involuntarily move down to Vecchio's head. The Italian is crouching now, needing more room to move; and Fraser's groping hand settles on it, not pushing, not pulling, just holding his hand on Ray's head as it bobs up and down.

Kowalski glances back down at the captive Mountie, and sees the sweat break on Fraser's brow. He flicks his eyes to Vecchio, who coincidentally happens to glance up at them at the same time, in the midst of what he is doing. Kowalski watches the lip covered teeth flash over Fraser's cock, and then his eyes meet Vecchio's.

A split second later, Fraser's grip on Kowalski's hand becomes bone-grinding, and the blond detective knows the Mountie is climaxing at the same time as he sees Vecchio's expression (which was becoming a bit tired) change to one of satisfaction and relief. A moment that feels like minutes later, Kowalski glances back down at Fraser, whose eyes are screwed shut, and sees his chin jutting out slightly as he moans uncontrollably. An almost pained expression -- almost a wince -- passes over the Mountie's face, and just as quickly clears. Kowalski can feel the wild bucking of Fraser's hips shaking his whole body, shaking his steely grip on his hand.

Seeing this is almost enough to make him want to stroke himself faster and faster until he comes; but he decides to save that for the the moment. Fraser is still gripping his other hand tightly, so Ray releases his own cock and smoothes Fraser's brow with the hand that was just on himself. He feels the slick sweat under his fingertips and hears the slight whimper of mingled disappointment and relief from Fraser as his pleasure is spent. But then those piercing blue eyes open, and Fraser focuses on him. The Mountie's hand comes up from Vecchio's now-still head to grasp Ray Kowalski's other hand, the hand that soothed his brow, the hand slick with his sweat -- and Fraser sucks two of Ray's fingers into his mouth and tastes the salt of his sweat. He sucks Kowalski's fingers meditatively, and this time it is Kowalski who blushes.





end




surfgirl