Italian Beauty
by Anam

Both men had a hard day at work; both men were tired and exhausted. Both men were also in love.

"You awfully quiet there, Benny. You okay?"

"Yes, Ray. I am fine overall, but I do have one little problem that needs to be addressed."

"You do?" Ray sighed. "Well, let's hear it then."

"Ray... I'm in love with you."

The cop yawned and shrugged. He was neither astonished nor even feral. He was bland. "That's nice, Benny..."

The car abruptly screeched to a halt, nearly sending Fraser hurling forward and becoming Zen with the dashboard if it wasn't for the seatbelt strangling him.

"Oh God! Benny!" Ray was staring at him. "What did you just say?"

"I said I was fine overall, but I do have a little problem that needs..."

Fraser stopped blabbering like an idiot when he realized that Ray had slipped his tongue deep into his mouth. After his initial shock, Fraser kindly returned the wet gesture, sliding his hand behind that elegant neck and pulling Ray deeper inside, their tongues now dancing.

"Um, Ray? You mean us... now? Here? In your car?"

"Damn it, Benny, it's my car, and I can do whatever I want in it. Hell, I let you blow up my first car!"

"That is very kind of you, Ray. Um... I didn't mean about me blowing up your car, but about you and me... um, in your car. Although, letting me blow up your car was also very kind of you too, and I... um."

"Damn, I guess I better go first." Ray twisted around and swung his legs up onto the passenger seat, spreading them quite wide for the Mountie.

Ray was certainly one man who knew what he wanted out of life.

Fraser blinked at the spectacle in disbelief. "My lovely Ray."

Ray smiled and reached up to undo his belt buckle, but an attentive Fraser halted his hands. "Allow me, Ray. Please."

"That is very kind of you, Benny."

He undid the belt, and then the zipper with Ray watching him intently, and Fraser gasped as he pulled the slacks and briefs down past those incredibly narrow hips. "Oh Ray, you are so beautiful. My God!"

"I also taste good, too." Ray winked at him.

Fraser grinned and parted the lengthy, slender thighs of his brand new lover, eyeing his beautiful prize: a long, sleek cock and the loveliest set of balls he had ever...

"May I lick those for you sir?" Turnbull asked politely.

What?

Fraser suddenly looked up to see Constable Turnbull standing over his desk with a manila folder in his hand and a clueless expression on his clueless face.

"May I lick those stamps for you sir?" Turnbull gestured to the large stack of envelopes and stamps waiting to be processed and mailed out.

"Oh?" Fraser was now back at the Canadian Consulate, back at his small desk, in his small office, in his small life.

"Um, sir? Are you all right?"

Fraser rigidly straightened his back. "I am fine Constable."

He was now back on duty, back at work, back to hell, back to sentry duty, back to picking up and dropping off dry cleaning and filing countless files, and back to licking dozens and dozens of stamps while choking on adhesive glue.

Stamp licking! The traumatized Mountie shuddered at the thought.

Fraser remembered how he once had the audacity to sneak in a small dish containing a pre-moistened sponge to dampen his stamps and a very shocked Ovitz had caught him in the act. Inspector Thatcher had dressed him down that afternoon, angry at this sudden change of protocol on Fraser's part, for she had preferred the professional yet personal touch of applying one's own saliva.

Oh God! He was really homesick.

"Yes, Constable Turnbull, you may lick my stamps." Fraser sighed with grateful relief. "Thank you kindly."

A happy Turnbull now smiled knowing he did something right for once and he killed or maimed nobody in the process. Swiftly, he grabbed the bundle of envelopes and stamps off Fraser's desk and ran away.

Fraser checked his watch and noted with some inner joy that it was time to leave, or really, it was time to see Ray. He made it to the hallway but was quickly spotted yet again by the hawk-like Inspector.

"Constable Fraser? You are leaving?"

"Yes, ma'am. If that meets your approval?"

"Yes, it does. Do have anything special planned for tonight?"

"Um, I am to meet Detective Ray Vecchio for dinner."

"Oh." Inspector Thatcher frowned at him. "How nice." The strange woman now became flustered, tongue-tied, and very weird. Fraser inwardly winced and he became flustered too.

At first, the Mountie thought he might be actually attracted to her, but he had belatedly realized that he had mistaken that emotion for the plain heebee jeebees. How could he have known the difference? Fraser had never met anyone in his life before that had truly made his skin crawl.

"Well, um, good evening, um, Constable."

"Good night, Inspector."

Fraser quickly bolted for the door, leaving skid marks on the polished floor.

The Mountie walked to the 27th precinct since Ray had to work late this evening, and he found the Chicago detective sitting at his desk quite deep in case files and serious daydreaming. Ray almost looked a little... blissful.

"Ray?"

The cop was lost in La-La land.

"Um, Ray? Are you all right? Ray?"

Startled from his dreamy haze, Ray looked up with a frown and looked down at his desk with a wretched groan.

"Ray?" Fraser did not enjoy the zombie-like state of his friend. "Ray? Is anything wrong?"

"Hmm, what?" The sad cop glanced up to look at him again and he smiled with recognition. "Hey Benny! You're finally here. Great! Just let me get my coat."

"Ray? Are you all right? You seemed a million miles away."

"I was." The detective sighed as pulled on his dark overcoat.

"Ray?"

"I'm fine Fraser, okay? I had a long day at work and I'm just glad you're here now."

"You are?" Fraser asked with some surprise. Why would Ray be so glad to see him, unless he had one really hellish day at work? He smiled at his friend indulgently.

"Yeah, yeah. Jeez!" Ray was staring at him, or rather staring at the silly grin on his face. Fraser began to panic at the apt attention given by his partner on his mouth.

"So Ray, where do you care to dine tonight? I thought we have Chinese?"

Ray looked at him closely and shyly asked, "Why don't we go to my house and have dinner. The whole gang is away in Miami, so it will only be the two of us. What do ya say?"

"That's sounds fine to me, Ray."

"I'm really glad to hear that, Benny."

The drive home was quiet and Fraser couldn't understand the strange behavior of his friend in the precinct. Well, maybe they both had a bad day at work, but Fraser could plainly see that Ray really had something important on his mind. The cop wasn't complaining about anything today.

The Riv pulled up into the familiar driveway and Fraser noticed a few slight changes to the landscape since he had been here last, including a small flower garden in the front of the house.

Fraser stopped in his tracks when he spotted the most beautiful rose bushes he had ever seen. And there was one perfect red rose out of the whole bunch that seemed to belong to him. He knelt down to get a better view and he had to touch it.

"Hey Benny? Unless you wanna weed Maria's garden, I suggest you come in for dinner."

"Um, yes Ray." Fraser blushed. "Sorry."

The cop felt like a total bastard. "Ah, jeez. Here."

Ray immediately came to his side, and bending over the one rose that Fraser was so admiring, he pulled out his penknife and cut the stem with a swift, clean stroke.

Ray offered the red rose to the red Mountie. "Here ya go, Benny. All yours."

"Oh Ray, I couldn't."

Ray's eyes widened. "Damn it, Fraser! It's too late now. I already cut the little fella, so just take him." Ray slapped the flower into his hand.

"Um, I do not know what to say."

Both men were intensely staring at each other knee-deep in mulch.

"Try saying 'thank you kindly,' Fraser."

"Thank you kindly."

"Good! You're welcome!" Ray sighed. "Can we go in now?"

"Will Maria get angry with you for cutting one of her roses?"

"Nah." Ray merely shrugged. "I just tell her I gave it to a very important person that really needed it, or actually, that really deserved it. Besides, I brought the damn rose bushes for her so they are practically my roses, too, even though she claims all rights to the topsoil. So my roses are your roses, Benny." Ray patted him on the back.

Fraser was touched by the suddenly sweet words coming out of his best friend's mouth and he blushed again.

"Ah, come on Fraser." Ray blushed with embarrassment too. "You deserve a whole goddamn hillside full of marigolds and petunias. Shit."

Benny was simply staring at the blood red rose in his hand. Did he truly deserve this? Did he deserve something so beautiful and delicate within his grasp?

Did Benton Fraser seriously believe he deserved to hold such beauty in his hand, with soft velvet petals and a long, green, sleek stem?

"Damn that little rug rat." Ray now picked up a rolled up newspaper that the paperboy had thrown thoughtfully against his front window. The cop unlocked the door and entered the foyer, flipping on the switch, the lights now flicking on and reflecting off the smooth wood of the staircase.

The insides of the house were neat, clean, dusted, polished, and deadly quiet. It just wasn't the same without fifty-plus Vecchios screaming at each other.

Fraser had been to Ray's home on numerous occasions, the last time he had vividly remembered: he had frantically tore the house apart searching for a key to a locker that had contained stolen money from a bank robbery in a Alaska.

"Benny, let's go to the kitchen and I'll get you something to drink. Let's see. I got apple juice, milk, yoo-hoo, snapple, coke, diet-coke..."

Victoria had placed that deadly key here to frame Ray, to ruin him, to destroy him. Fraser had let this woman into Ray's life, into his home, under his roof.

"... lemonade, spring water, some beer, but I know you don't drink that shit, so how about some wholesome, all-American apple juice, okay?"

"Okay."

Ray shoved a cold glass into his hand, and he then went through the endless library of tupperware dishes in the refrigerator. "Damn! Ma has left me too much food again! She thinks every time she leaves me alone I will starve and die here all by myself."

Fraser was mournfully staring at the Italian's backside, the man now digging deep through the depthless frige. His heart felt like heavy granite sinking deep inside his chest. "Ray? How long has your family been away?"

"Only about four days now, they should be back by this weekend."

Ray had been alone in this large empty house for four days. The last time his family had left, Ray made it a national holiday, letting the whole precinct know of his good fortune.

Now Ray was here alone, not saying a word to anyone, even to him.

"Ma wasn't too happy with the idea of leaving the house alone, so I decided to stay. Yep, they all left me behind like some dirty old guard dog to watch this place. I just hope that one of the neighbors will drop by once in a while to give me some fresh water and kibble."

"Ray?"

"Hmm, Ma is a food goddess. Look at all this stuff."

"Ray? Why didn't you tell me your family was going away?"

"Um, I don't know." Ray shrugged. "I mean, what does it matter?"

"It matters to me, Ray."

"Oh, okay. Um, what do ya want to eat, Benny?"

"Why didn't you ask me to come by? Why?"

"What?" Ray turned his head and he was gaping at him.

"Why didn't you ask me to visit, or just drop by? Why did you insist that you stay here alone?"

"I didn't insist on anything." Ray quickly stuck his head inside the refrigerator again.

"Well, you should have." Fraser quietly mumbled to himself.

"Should have what?"

"You should have insisted that I come to visit, or just drop by."

"Look, I just didn't want to risk it. Okay?" Ray now felt like crawling inside the refrigerator with the penne pasta leftovers and closing the door forever.

"Risk what, Ray? That I say 'no'?"

"Risk you saying 'yes' and not showing up again!"

Ray recoiled at the foreign words that came out of his mouth. "I'm sorry, Benny. I didn't mean it that way. Ah shit. Oh damn."

"No, Ray. I'm the one who is sorry."

"Look, it's not your fault, so why should you even feel sorry?"

"Because I love you, Ray." Fraser lifted his hands in supplication. "I love you."

Ray stared at him with huge green eyes and a tupperware dish full of poached-seafood with Sicilian-style salsa in his grip. "Benny?"

Ray Vecchio didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The situation in his mother's kitchen was becoming surreal.

Fraser stepped up to him and he was now in his face, and getting closer and closer. "Now I'm the one who is taking the risk, the risk of you saying 'no' when I ask you if you love me. Do you love me, Ray?"

Ray swallowed hard. "You never have to risk anything with me, Benny, I love you too much."

Fraser had rarely been kissed or had kissed anyone in his life, and never had a strong reason to do so as now--no reason as strong as Ray. He wasn't really sure what he should do, so he touched Ray's lips with one finger, then bent his head and put his mouth against Ray's, moving inside him deeply, lovingly.

The kiss flowed, drifted, and suddenly changed, becoming urgent. Fraser broke free, lifting his mouth followed by Ray's broken plea: "Don't... stop... now... please."

"Let me make it up to you, Ray." Fraser licked the soft lips, kissing and nibbling the mouth and Ray moaned.

"Benny, it's okay, love."

"I want to make it up to you, please." Extreme guilt and smooth skin were making Fraser very aroused. "Anything you want Ray, I'll do it. I should have been there that night."

"Anything?" The Italian sounded hopeful. He was desperately excited.

Fraser hammered his groin into Ray's and the cop yelped. "Benny! Oh! Damn!"

"Ray, what do you want from me? I want to do this for you, please let me."

Ray was now thrusting himself against the solid wall of sheer Mountie. "Umm... I want you... pool table."

"Hmm, what?"

"Um, pool table..."

"You want me to help you move your pool table?" Fraser frowned against the cop's chest. This was quite unexpected.

"I want you ... on the... pool table."

"You what?"

"I want you... to fuck me... on the pool table!"

Fraser looked at him with raised eyebrows.

Of course! The pool table! God, Ray was clever, ironic, and sexy! And he, Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP, was going to be inside him!

Oh, how he loved this man! Fraser swiftly opened the cupboard and seized a bottle of 100% pure extra virgin olive oil.

"Come with me, Ray!" He grabbed the panting cop by the arm, half-carried him to the door of the basement, and dragged him down the staircase into the dark depths of the family game room.

Fraser hoisted Ray up and plopped him down on the sturdy pool table. He began to undress the slender man while joyfully humming to himself.

"Hey wait, Benny. Move my balls out of the way first."

"Understood."

"Whoa!" Ray flinched. "Uh, Benny? I meant the pool balls."

"Oh, sorry Ray." Fraser quickly went about clearing the table of any stray pool balls, now making the playing surface available for um... fucking.

He then began the blissful task of stripping Ray down, now finding how faithfully his imagination had constructed the 'nude Ray' of his dreams. Fraser's breath quickly caught in his throat as he stared at his lover's masculine handiwork. His gorgeous 'reality Ray' was certainly no match for his faulty fantasies: he was off base by a few centimeters. "Oh, Ray."

Fraser was amazed, spreading Ray out on the table like this. He could not believe that it was only a matter of seconds before he'll be accepted inside that exquisite body.

Ray wiggled and pouted. "Hmm, it's itchy."

A naked Fraser climbed the pool table and was now up on all fours, staring down into the face of his lover like a ravenous wolf. "Let me scratch your itch, Ray."

"Um, okay." Ray grinned and lifted his legs, holding his shins in his hands.

Fraser laughed at the awe-inspiring sight. "Ray, you are so adorable!"

"Damn it, Fraser!" Ray scowled. "You're embarrassing me!"

"Ah, I can tell," Fraser commented dryly as he watched his friend's shy blush instantly reach his balls.

Ray growled at him. "Benny! Do it now! Please!"

Fraser's hands traveled down the satin olive skin, quietly exploring the man's elegant cock and balls. He then coated the smooth insides of his partner with a layer of oil, stroking with his fingers, and Ray whimpered his approval under his gentle touches.

Moving forward, Fraser planted himself firmly between Ray's legs and in Ray's ass... where he belonged. His lover moaned and lay beneath him, breathless and impaled, and Ray screamed when he felt the velvet rasp of that hard penis deep inside him.

"Benny! Oh God! Oh!"

Fraser buried his face against warm skin, nuzzling into the nook of Ray's neck, but his friend immediately responded, "No, no! I wanna see you!" Ray lifted Fraser's hidden face and held it there, cupping his cheeks with his palms. "I want to see you come, Benny. That's it! Oh, oh yes!"

Fraser came with a shriek, flooding Ray's body with hot, remote waves and devouring the lean man with his eyes. Watching Ray come had left him in amazement, seeing his lover's cheeks glow with heat at the culminating moment of their lovemaking, and Fraser wanted to remember this moment and that intense face, to keep it forever like a photograph.

Ray was as true in love as he was in everything else--the contortions of his rapture were perfect testimony, yet one more attempt by the Italian beauty to steal Benny's heart.

"I love happy endings."

"Hmm? What?" Ray lifted his shorn head from the entangled mess they made to regard the Mountie tenderly. "What you did you say, Benny?"

"I said 'I love you, Ray.'"

"Yeah? I love happy endings too."

-The End-

endnote: Renfield Turnbull had set the Guiness Book of World Records for licking the most stamps in one sitting, and is now on tour promoting his new autobiography, 'Renfield: A Man and his Sticky Tongue.'

End

I decided to do a sequel to 'Canadian Beauty' which can be found on hexwood. Hope you like! Anam (: (I hope this goes thru, aol mail really sucks spice)

Italian Beauty

By Anam71
July 2000
NC-17 for M/M slash.
PWP/romance sequel to 'Canadian Beauty'featuring Benny and Sugar Ray. Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, they belong to the shackles that bind em'.

Slashy Note: Due to a rabid PWP bunny, I decided to write a sequel to 'Canadian Beauty,' aptly titled 'Italian Beauty,' which is my slashy DS version of the movie 'American Beauty.' Huh?

Beauty is not caused. It is.
-Emily Dickinson-