Same old, same old, not mine   Graham Gregory Graham Gregory 53 297
2000-08-14T14:25:00Z 2000-08-14T20:10:00Z 6 3402 14971 Home 393 71 23817
9.2720	       Same old, same old, they're not mine. We all know the words
to this song, so sing along.   This takes place a week after the events in
Dangerous Profession, yeh sorry, you do need to read this one first.  
Slight RAPE/NC warning, although nothing specific, that all happened in
the last story, it is, however, referred to in this one.   Rated NC-17 for
that very reason. Just better warn ya, this is m/m Ray/Ray yum/yum   The
title was taken from a Bon Jovi song, for no other reason than it rocks.  
  Living on a Prayer   "Last thing I remember, I was running for the door,
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before. 'Relax,' said
the night man,	We are programmed to receive. You can check out any time
you like, But you can never leave," Hotel California- The Eagles   Ray
sighed as he shifted his weight. He ached all over; Stan's couch
definitely wasn't good for his back. Ray silently got up, padded into the
small kitchen to fetch a glass of water, he wasn't looking forward to the
morning. Welsh had told him that he had to get his ass back to work. He
couldn't complain, Welsh had been great; he'd given him a whole week off
to look after Stan. Ray was almost certain Welsh knew about them, knew
they were more than partners. Yet he hadn't said anything direct or warned
them. Standard procedure would be to split their asses up to other sides
of the squad room, or even the city. Ray sighed as he looked out of the
window. It was almost light. He'd have to leave for work soon; he didn't
want to leave Stan alone. Not that Stan had done anything to cause him
worry. On the contrary, Stan appeared to try hard to remain any semblance
of normality.   Ray was worried when Stan refused adamantly to see a
counsellor, he had been quite angry at the suggestion, saying he may be
damaged but he wasn't loopy. The investigation into Milner's death was all
over. IA had been crawling all over the station, but Stan had given a
solid statement that no one could argue with. His lover however had edited
out some details. Like the fact that he was raped. Ray had spoken to the
doctor, as a policeman, not a friend, he knew he'd find out more that way.
He nearly went out and killed someone when he'd found out what he'd
already known. But the doctor had continued, saying that there had been
traces of semen in Stan's mouth, the doctor had also told him about the
strange burn on his hip, Ray was furious. They had said the burn would
scar, but it may be possible to reduce it using cosmetic surgery and skin
grafts, Ray still had yet to see the burn for himself. Stan had released
himself, against medical advice two days later, Ray had insisted on
staying with him. Stan had passed the preliminary psyche consult at the
hospital; otherwise they wouldn't have let him leave. But Ray knew how
good an actor Stan was, he was quite sure that his lover could fool them
if he really wanted to.    Stan hadn't let up on the act either. There was
no screaming fits of anger, no depression, nothing. Ray had expected some
reaction, although Stan just remained quieter than usual. Ray was tired.
He'd wanted to give Stan space so he'd suggested sleeping on the sofa.
Stan had given him a strange look and for the first time Ray could not
fathom what his usually expressive lover was thinking.	  The sofa wasn't
the most productive place to get a good night sleep.    He was a little
worried about how Stan was healing, the doctor's had said, providing there
was no infection both the burns and his colon would heal nicely in a week
or two. He still fretted when Stan would wince after moving sharply. It
took all of his willpower not to go to him and hold him. The only one
thing that had changed a lot was their sex life, or lack of it. Ray wasn't
selfish, he knew Stan would need time to heal; he'd give him as much time
as he needed, but Stan would not tolerate any kind of physical contact
with him. The few times he'd gone to hold his hand or put a friendly hand
on his shoulder, Stan tensed up, he didn't say anything, but Ray could see
it in his eyes, he was like a frightened rabbit, waiting to bolt. But what
hurt Ray the most was when Fraser had come to visit, Stan had happily
accepted the companionable hug and backslap the usually stoic Mountie had
given him. That hurt. The fact that Stan had not only accepted the
contact, unlike as he had done with Ray, but he'd actually laughed and
smiled back at Fraser.	  Stan had also taken to showering alone, Ray
could hardly remembered the last time he'd showered alone since he'd
started seeing Stan intimately. Even if Stan had just had a shower before
Ray got there, he'd promptly strip off again and jump in with him. Ray had
wondered about the burn as well, he was curious about how bad it was. Stan
hadn't allowed him to see it. Ray hadn't seen him naked since he'd shot
Milner and held the cowering man. In fact Ray hadn't seen Stan in anything
except sweat pants. His lover had always hated wearing the things, so Ray
had assumed the it was just because they were loose and didn't cling to
the burnt skin, but Stan had assured him that he was feeling fine and it
wasn't giving him much trouble anymore. When Ray had enquired about his
other injury Stan had just blushed furiously and stuttered that the cream
they'd given him was doing it's job.    That was one image Ray didn't need
to be thinking about, Stan applying cream * there*. Especially when he was
so horny even Stan in sweat pants was beginning to look the most erotic
thing he'd ever seen. So he'd taken to getting intimately reacquainted
with his right hand. He'd wait until Stan was sound asleep, kick off the
covers and drag himself into an unsatisfying climax pretending his hands
were those of his currently uninterested partner. Ray wasn't sure if he
should feel guilty about fantasising about Stan, was that any better than
what Milner had done to him? Using him without his permission. Surely it
was better than fantasising about someone else? That was being unfaithful,
wasn't it? Especially after what Stan had been through, besides Ray
couldn't think of anyone he'd rather fantasise about, Stan had given him
real life fantasies he could just relive, much easier than making one up. 
  Ray wondered how long it would take before Stan would allow him back
into their bed. He hadn't seen Stan make any progress at all during the
week he'd been out of hospital. He was healing fine, they'd told him on
his check up, and could return to work in another week if he went to see a
counsellor. That had sparked Stan up; he didn't seem so mellow then. Welsh
had agreed, Stan had to see a shrink, Stan was pissed, and if looks could
kill Ray was pretty sure he'd be six feet under by now. Stan hadn't spoke
to him since that incident that was last night. Hence the reason Ray did
not want to go back to work today. Fraser had promised to look in on him
on his lunch hour and Ray was going in early so he could finish early to
get back early.   Ray wasn't quite sure whether to wake Stan up to tell
him that he was leaving, that he could ring him at the precinct if he
needed anything. He might freak out, there wasn't any other reason to go
in there, he'd started to keep his clothes in the small closet in the
bathroom, thinking that it may make Stan uncomfortable to have him
constantly invading his domain. He slowly crept up to the door and slowly
pushed it until it was ajar, Stan was sprawled out on the bed, his limbs
appeared to just be flung wildly, like a puppet with cut strings. The
duvet hung half off the side of the bed, leaving him with a perfect view
of Stan in his vest top and jockeys. His head was being flung from side to
side as he whispered in his sleep.   "No, please, no. Ray help me, don't,
stop it," it was cut off by a sharp sob. Ray, uncaring whether he was
invading or not, carefully moved to shake Stan awake.    "It's okay Stan,
it's just a dream," he repeated until Stan blinked unfocussed blue eyes in
his direction.   "Ray?" he seemed confused.   "Yeah, you were having a
nightmare, I was just coming to tell you that I'm off to work," Ray waited
until Stan nodded uncertainly, clearly still fogged by sleep. Ray hadn't
moved his hand; it lay restlessly on Stan's shoulder, the warmth of his
lover's skin burning his hand with sweet temptation. But Stan, sill
sleepy, hadn't protested to the contact so Ray, selfishly, decided to
savour the moment a bit longer.   "Work?"   "Yeah, I got to go back today,
are you going to be alright?" Steel blues eyes bored into his own,   "I'll
be fine," he reassured, then seemingly without thinking grabbed the back
of Ray's neck and pulled him down for a wet goodbye kiss, "haf a good
day," he grunted as he rolled over, snuggling into what would usually be
Ray's pillow. Ray stood, shocked, Stan never ceased to amaze him, but now
he was confusing the hell out of him as well. It might have been a spur of
the moment thing, he was still half asleep, it might not mean anything had
changed, but Ray couldn't help but hope and practically bounced all the
way to work.    0o0o0   Fraser knocked quietly on the door. He'd taken a
cab to Stan's hoping to spend a little longer with him after promising Ray
he'd look in on him. He knocked again, slightly louder hoping that he
wasn't disturbing the detective's sleep. Fraser turned the door handle.
Surprised to find it opened. After being attacked most people usually got
paranoid about security provisions. He was also shocked that Ray would
leave it unlocked; he had become very protective of Stan since the
incident. He quietly snuck in, wary of intruders or sounds. Fraser knew
Stan was alone, the GTO was parked outside, but the Riviera was gone.   
Fraser looked around the apartment. Everything seemed normal, he spotted
Stan curled up on the couch, wrapped tightly in a blanket and his head
buried in a pillow. The deep, evens heaves of his chest reaffirmed to
Fraser that Stan was in fact asleep. Fraser glanced at his watch; it was a
quarter past twelve. Fraser was unsure what to do, should he wake him up.
Unknowing this was exactly the same internal debate the Ray had had five
hours earlier. The decision was taken out of his hands however when the
shrill drill of the telephone cut through the silence, Fraser quickly
grabbed the receiver before it interrupted anymore.   "Kowalski residence,
Constable Benton Fraser speaking," he answered as quietly as he could,
smiling as Stan grunted in annoyance at the disturbance to his sleep.   
"Fraser I know who you are,"   "Ray," he greeted happily,   "How is he?"
he demanded instantly,   "Well, I...,"   "Spit it out Fraser, he is at
least there, right?"   "Yes, he's here," Fraser quickly reassured, Stan
grunted again as he lifted his head in annoyance to look at Fraser.  
"Well what's wrong?" Ray demanded sharply,   "Nothing Ray, everything is
fine," Fraser clarified, "I just couldn't answer your question because
until you rang Stan was asleep,"   "Oh," Ray sighed in relief, "sorry
buddy, I'm just a bit tightly strung at the moment,"    "So it would
seem," Fraser commented wryly. Stan had by now padded over to him and was
motioning to him whether he'd like a drink. Fraser nodded, "I'd better go
Ray,"   "Sure," came the disappointed reply, "tell Stan I'll be home by
four."   "Of course," Fraser replied as he put the phone down. Fraser was
worried about Ray. Sometimes he thought Stan was handling this whole thing
better than Ray was. Stan handed him a steaming cup of bark tea, sipping
at his own cup of coffee as he re-tangled himself in the blankets on the
couch.	  "Ray said he would be home by four," Fraser informed him as he
sat in a chair opposite Stan.   "Of course he will," Fraser thought that
was an odd thing to say, apparently his confusion showed because Stan
began to elaborate, "he wouldn't dream of letting me out of his sight for
longer than that, which is precisely why he sent you around here to come
and check on me."   "Well it's only because he cares, I know he can be a
bit suffocating at times but..."   "I know and I'm grateful, to both of
you, I just feel like everyone's watching me, waiting for me to crack, or
eat my gun or something, it's like living in a goldfish bowl." Fraser got
up hastily to leave,   "I'm sorry if you feel we're invading your privacy,
it was just that we were worried about you. I'm sorry, I'll leave at
once," Fraser practically ran towards the door.    "Fraser!" Fraser
halted, his back to Stan. He hated that his friend really thought that
about them.   "Yes Stan," he replied as normally as he could.   "Fraser,
look I'm sorry, I'm still in insensitive bastard mode. I really appreciate
all that you've both done for me. I just tend to get grouchy and forget
that if it wasn't for you I'd have driven myself insane a long time ago."
Fraser turned and saw the sincerity on Stan's face and he went to slowly
sit back down.   "I'm sorry Stan, I just, I don't really know..." Stan
smiled at him in understanding,   "You don't know when to take me
seriously? Don't know what to say?" Fraser nodded, "maybe this'll help,"
Stan slumped down, a cheeky grin plastered over his face, "what the Ice
Queen make you do today? Play toy soldiers?" Fraser smiled, that was
easier, and he just tended to forget that Stan was still the same man. He
didn't know what he was expecting, maybe that Stan would be altered so
drastically that he wouldn't even recognise him.    They sat and talked
for nearly half an hour, Fraser told Stan about how Dief had urinated on
the Inspector's office carpet, in spite, after the whole 'shoe incident'.
  Fraser had relaxed, Stan was the same, he'd still laughed and joked
along with him, everything was fine until Fraser asked why he was sleeping
on the couch, not in the bed where he'd be more comfortable. Fraser cursed
himself as Stan blushed and lowered his eyes, fisting the material of the
blanket in his hands.   "It smells like Ray," he admitted shyly, still not
meeting his eyes, Fraser smiled, it was probably one of the sweetest
things he'd heard coming form that coarse Chicagoan mouth.   0o0o0   Ray
rushed home that night, slightly reassured by Fraser after he'd spoken to
him once he'd gotten back to the consulate. He opened the door, looked
around, Stan was nowhere to be seen, Ray panicked slightly but decided he
desperately needed to relieve his bladder before doing anything. He
quickly opened the door and walked into the steam filled room, and was
surprised to find a naked Stan getting out of the shower. Ray was pleased
that he didn't move to cover himself up. He'd missed seeing Stan like
this, his skin flushed from the heat of the shower, his hair, soaked and
plastered down to his head. Stan was blushing furiously as he stared at
the floor, not looking at Ray. Ray's eye's traced a path along his lover's
body, down his muscled yet lean chest which was still slightly mottled
with bruises. The thin line of pubic hair that started just below his
naval and travelled down to... that's when Ray noticed the burn, the rage
that flowed through him at that bastard marking his lover didn't abate his
arousal. He noticed the burn was not a number, as he was expecting, but
the letter 'R', he was confused. Stan's demeanour changed from being limp
to stressed and Ray looked up at his lover who had caught him staring at
the burn. Stan's eyes were large and glassy.   "I disgust you," he stated
simply, quietly, looking back down at the growing puddle around his feet.
Ray noticed a single tear snake down Stan's cheek and hang off of his
chin. Stan had mistaken his blatant curiosity for repulsion and distaste.
  "No," Ray hotly corrected.   "It's okay," Stan assured, looking at him
with miserable eyes, "I even disgust myself,"   "That's what you think?"
Ray asked him in disbelief,   "I tol' ya it's okay, ya don't have to stay
here out of guilt or...or.... misplaced sense of duty," Stan's eyes
remained fixed on the floor as if it was the most interesting thing he'd
ever seen.   "Stan, look at me," he commanded, pleased that his voice came
out even and authoritative, "look at me!" Stan reluctantly dragged his
eyes up to meet Ray's, closed them tightly for a second as if he was in
great pain, wrapped his arms around his chest in a protective gesture then
met Ray's gaze, "I don't feel guilty, what happened was nobodies fault but
Milner's, and as for duty, I'm not Fraser, I wouldn't put up with your
grouchiness just out of duty. I'm doing this because I love you, because I
don't want to have to live without you. Even the grouchy you is better
than no you at all."   "You're sure?" Stan asked uncertain,   "If you
think I'm going to repeat that you've got another thing coming, I've got a
rep to keep up," this got Ray a smile, an actual smile that reached his
eyes. It disappeared quickly, Stan turned serious again.    "Why didn't
you want to go to bed with me?"   "Oh, believe me, it wasn't because I
didn't want to," Ray sighed, he knew the look Stan had given him now, he
was hurt, it was the look he would have had if he had just been stabbed in
the heart, not too far from what he'd actually done, "you needed time, so
did I, if I'd have been so close to you, knowing that I couldn't touch
you, that would be like torture. I though it was what you wanted, what you
needed and then you wouldn't let me go near you, so I never suggested that
we should share the bed again." Stan searched his eyes, looking to see if
he was being genuine. Apparently satisfied, he smiled. Ray pulled him into
a hug. Luckily Ray had worn jeans and a tee shirt to work so his Armani
suit was saved from being ruined by a naked, soggy Kowalski. Ray leaned
into the embrace, savouring the moment that had become rare in the last
week. He felt his quickly renewed arousal at the contact.    "I'm sorry,"
Stan apologise,   "What for?" Ray murmured against Stan's neck,   "I've
been neglecting you," Stan explained as he caressed the growing bulge in
his jeans.   "You don't have to..." the rest of Ray's sentence was lost as
Stan slipped his hand inside his boxers after undoing his fly.	  "I want
to." Stan repeated adamantly. Ray pulled them both back into the bedroom,
dropping himself on the bed first, leaving Stan in charge. Hoping it would
make him feel more relaxed and confident about it. Stan quickly divested
him of his clothes, which were thrown haphazardly around the room in
various directions. He saw Stan waver once he was naked, unsure what to
do, looking at his straining arousal dubiously. Ray reached up and took
his hand gently.   "It's okay, we don't have to,"   "I. Want. To,"   "Do
you?" Ray asked, noting his partner's un-aroused state.   "I. Want. To,"
he repeated, snatching his hand away from Ray's, moving purposely to
stroke his erection, only to have it caught by the wrist in Ray's strong
grip.    "You don't have to, I don't need this, I can live without it,"
Stan's only answer was to use his other hand to pump his erection, out of
surprise Ray dropped his grip on the other hand and grunted in approval. 
  "Don't need this, huh?" Stan asked in a bitter, smug voice as he flicked
his thumb over the tip, causing Ray to moan and writhe, trying to buck up
into the sensation. Stan had started to pump himself in the same rhythm.
Ray was pleased that at least his lover was aroused as well. Stan leaned
over him and caught a nipple in his teeth, only to have it licked and
soothed, Ray knew he wouldn't last very long if Stan kept that up. Stan,
sensing his urgency, upped the tempo, pumped harder and faster until Ray
was dragged to the edge, coming in a sticky mess all over Stan's fingers.
Stan rolled off of him onto his back, still thrusting into his own fist.
Ray leant up, swatting Stan's hand away. Ray studied him, he didn't look
scared or apprehensive, growing bold he reached down and cupped Stan's
balls, playing with them for a bit, then he brought his other hand to
match the same cadence on his cock. Stan still appeared to be relaxed,
encouraged, Ray leant over and kissed the tip, licking off the drop of
pre-cum that had settled there. Stan moaned gratefully. Ray deep throated
him, reaching up with one hand to play with one of his lover's sensitive
nipples; Ray hoped that would distract him. His other hand took an
exploration of it's own, caressing his lover's flank, still only to be met
with the happy moans coming form the top of the bed. Unthinkingly, out of
habit Ray's finger drifted down to caress Stan's puckered opening. He felt
Stan tense instantly under him at the sensation; Ray cursed his own
stupidity and insensitivity. Ray released his lover's erection and looked
up into the large frightened eye's looking back down at him.   "I'm
sorry," Ray apologised quietly,   "No, don't, I just... I can't... it's a
little, um..."   "Sensitive?" Ray supplied sympathetically.   "Yeh, I, it
kinda took me by surprise, ya know?"   "Can I?" Ray motioned with his
head, asking if he should continue, planting his errant, trouble-making
hands firmly on Stan's hips.   "If you want to,"   "What do you want?"
Stan looked slightly taken aback by the question,   "What you were doing
was nice," he smiled down at him,   "Only nice?" Ray asked in mock hurt,  
"It was bloody fantastic Vecchio, and ya'd better continue otherwise I'll
jump Bogart all over ya," he growled, but smiled throughout. Ray once
again swallowed him in one go. He sucked and bit gently, knowing his lover
liked just the right amount of teeth. It didn't take long for Stan to come
under such an assault, especially as Ray's hands once again wandered up to
his nipples and tugged gently at them. Stan growled Ray's name deep in his
throat as he came, Ray swallowed every spurt of semen Stan shot. Stan
collapsed back on the bed boneless, his breathing coming in harsh pants.
Ray crawled up to lie next to him, kissing him soundly on the lips. Stan
sighed happily against him, puffing out warm air over his face.    "Thank
you," Stan whispered as he curled up next to him, Stan resting his head on
his shoulder.    "You're thanking me for a blowjob?" Ray asked
incredulously,   "It was fantastic, but no I'm not. I'm talking about
earlier, the whole shebang. Finding me, killing Milner, caring enough to
sent the Mountie over, putting up with my grouchiness, telling me you love
me," Stan lifted him head and smiled up at him, Ray felt uneasy, he'd said
it on the spur of the moment, he'd meant it, he just wasn't sure whether
Stan had wanted to hear it, "I love you too." He whispered quietly as he
replaced his head back onto Ray's shoulder. Ray gripped him tighter
happily, never wanting to let him go.    They slept that way peacefully
all night.   The End