O Stay Me	   O Stay Me

 by Kass

  

 Author's website: http://www.trickster.org/kass/

 Disclaimer: Boys are theirs, words are mine.

 Author's Notes: Thanks to Sihaya Black for the beta-read. This one was
written in response to the porn challenge at ds_flashfiction (the
livejournal flashfic community).

 Story Notes: Obviously, Fraser strikes me as the kind of guy who'd be
familiar with late sixteenth-century English madrigal verse. You can find
the lyrics to the song he's humming here:
http://www.shipbrook.com/jeff/wilbye.html#xiiii 

 

 

 The first time Ray put his mouth on my erection, I very nearly came apart
at the seams. I had experienced his unzipping of my trousers merely as
relief, imputing no immediate ulterior motive beyond making me, and by
extension us, more comfortable for what I had assumed would be another
evening of what Ray charmingly calls "necking." 

 I sensed the couch shifting with his weight, but my eyes were screwed
shut (as though to watch him touch me were to risk the entire experience
going up in smoke) and I was not expecting his boldness. Was not expecting
the way his mouth would feel, surely hotter than normal (was he feverish,
or was I, now that his tongue was working its way towards my scrotum and
setting me alight?) 

 Though my mind ran John Wilbye's lyric, which suddenly seemed not veiled
in innuendo but blazingly, blindingly clear. *I fall, I fall, O stay me/
dear love, with joys ye slay me...* 

 It was the faint scrape of his barely-stubbled jaw against my thigh which
made the dreamlike haze feel real, which sent me so precipitously close to
the edge. In embarrassingly short order I was clutching at the edges of
the couch, legs as akimbo as my partially-dressed state would allow,
trying to draw enough breath to moan. When his hands snaked somehow in to
my pants, to rub along my testicles applying pressure in places I never
knew were capable of erotic sensation, I tried desperately to think of
something else, anything else, to bring me back from incipient climax. My
breath was shallow, almost gasping, and when Ray pulled his mouth away I
couldn't help the distressed sound that escaped my lips, mortifyingly like
a whimper. 

 "I've wanted to do this since day one," Ray murmured, his mouth so close
that I felt his words as puffs of breath on my wet and straining erection.


 His broad, capable hands continued their manipulation and I bit my lip,
hard, to keep from begging. *of life your lips deprive me/ sweet, let your
lips revive me...* 

 "And now I can't decide whether I'd rather make you come in my mouth, or
with my hands so I can watch it happen." 

 "Ray..." Was that my voice, almost a whine? I was greedy, pinned between
the conflicting desires to listen to him talk about what he wanted to do
with me and to feel him performing the acts he described. 

 He bent and licked, slow and insistent, at the base of my penis. I choked
back a groan, ashamed of these animal sounds, of how quickly and easily he
had rent my control. 

 "Such a pretty cock." As if observing to himself, though surely he had to
note how the organ in question twitched in his hands at the praise he
bestowed. One hand moved to stroke along my length, up and back. Desire
was weakening my entire body, pooling in my limbs and my chest like
mercury. 

 Suddenly my erection was left quivering in open air. I pushed myself up
on one elbow and opened my eyes, half-panicked, to the sight of Ray -- my
lover; what a thrilling word -- kneeling up between my open thighs,
surveying his handiwork. His hair was mussed, his shirt un-tucked and
half-unbuttoned and wrinkled. He was quite possibly the sexiest thing I
had ever seen. I wondered whether I would ever find myself able to speak
of these things as apparently easily as he could, whether I would ever be
able to tell him that. 

 When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. "What're you thinking?" 

 The begging words of the madrigal's close cycled furiously around my
head. Instead I managed to marshal a few words of contemporary speech.
"Please. Don't stop." 

 I would have winced at my own clich, but Ray didn't seem to mind the
phrasing: he took my plea to heart. The renewed heat of his mouth and
motion of his fingers wrung my climax from me. 

 When my bones had re-knit themselves, I vowed silently, I would return
the favour. As soon as I could move. Already my mouth tingled in
anticipation. It would be my turn, then, to make him fall. 

End O Stay Me by Kass: kass@trickster.org

Author and story notes above.