Alliance Atlantis owns the characters and concepts of due South, created by Paul Haggis. No profit or copyright infringement was intended.


Ties that Bind

{for the ds_flashfiction 'Powerless' challenge}


"Ray …" Fraser said, surprised by the hoarseness of his voice. "Please."

"Shh, Benny," Ray stroked a hand over his shoulders, hot even through the layers of Fraser's clothes. "It's not gonna happen, you're gonna have to make do."

Fraser squeezed his eyes shut, locking his shaking knees. Ray was asking so much. Too much and he wasn't even asking but simply expecting Fraser's acceptance. Did Ray even know how difficult this was? He needed, the surrender of manacles, the more than imaginary symbol of power. Ray wasn't giving him that; no cuffs, no collar, no rope. Fraser shook and wondered if Ray understood what he was asking for.

"Benny, Benny …" Ray's thumb rubbed strongly - the strength in his lean body always surprised Fraser; the man had once carried him for two days - soothingly at the nape of Fraser's neck where sweat gathered. Ray's fingers bit down on the tension in his neck; the touch, the strength, the tenderness spread from that small touch like heat through Fraser's body, shivering down his spine, gathering in the ache of his erection.

"Benny, attention," Ray said softly. Fraser stiffened, folding his hands behind his back, lifting his chin, eyes fixed front and center. This he could do. "Yeah, yeah, Benny. That's good."

Fraser shut his eyes in relief.

Ray's clever fingers were at his shirt next, unbuttoning the flannel, pushing it down his arms and giving him a welcome illusion of bondage. When Ray slid his hands under the Henley, dragging his fingernails over Fraser's belly, he sucked in a startled breath, eyes snapping open to meet Ray's affectionate amusement. Fraser clenched his fists while Ray pushed the shirt up, baring his skin to the cool air and Ray's gaze. His nipples were so tight they ached as if clamped. They weren't, Ray used few toys and the only persistent mark he'd ever left on Fraser's skin was an inch to the left of his spine. Fraser couldn't stop the whine that slipped from him, nor the arch of his hips - his penis straining against his jeans - when Ray gave his nipples a knowledgeable squeeze, a twist that shocked him with pleasure, and a final light brush that left him craving more.

He stood motionless, shirt shoved to his armpits and stealing glances at Ray's bent head as he unzipped Fraser's pants, pushing them down just enough to free his erection, tickling his balls and circling him again like a well dressed predator. Fraser struggled for breath, for well trained stillness; he'd never felt so naked in his life.

Ray peeled the flannel off his arms, leaving him free, and when his hands stroked over Fraser's buttocks, he flinched. Ray tsk'ed chidingly.

"Ray, it would be much easier if you allowed a simple rope bondage," Fraser struggled for reasonableness, for logic to frame his frantic desperation. He wanted to do what Ray wanted, he just didn't think he could - not without help.

"Nah, Benny," Ray dragged a gasping shudder from him by lightly stroking the sensitive curve where back met buttocks. "It ain't about easy is it? Not with you, never with you."

His fingers smoothed higher and Fraser's breath went shocky fast, erection flagging when those long fingers found the misshapen dip of scar tissue at his lower back. Ray's breath was hot on his shoulder, his voice rough and soft in his ear.

"This is about you and me, Benny, you and me and there's no chain stronger than this, is there?"


"I got you," Ray pressed lightly against the scar. His voice was shaking too but his hands were firm. "I got you and I ain't letting you go."

"Ray," Fraser's head dipped, submissive as a beta wolf, and Ray's mouth came down warm at the nape of his neck, sharpening suddenly with teeth in a jolt of erotic pain that sent blood back to Fraser's penis in a rush of fire.

"I don’t need a rope to keep you, Benny," Ray murmured.

"Please -"


Fraser sank to his knees, hands once again behind his back, and when Ray circled around him again, he licked his lips hopefully. He wanted but he couldn't ask - he could never ask, he could only wait and hope and hunger. His skin still tingled from Ray's touch; the scar throbbed, saliva chilled and dried at the vulnerable nape of his neck. Ray was unbuckling his snakeskin belt and unfastening those olive silk pants; Fraser made a small sound of relief. Ray was going to take care of him. Ray was going to give him what he needed.

Ray was only half-hard when Fraser swayed forward to rub his face in the stiff cloud of pubic hair. He swelled quickly though when Fraser took his silky erection into his mouth, resting his forehead against Ray's belly and wallowing in the pulse and twitch of Ray's stiffening penis. It was natural, it always had been natural, for Fraser to kneel at a man's feet, to slide his mouth along hard flesh, to savor the taste and feel and heat of a penis in his mouth. It was a joy to do this for Ray.

"No," and Ray stepped unexpectedly back, gripping Fraser's hair to keep him away. The loss of connection left Fraser feeling ravenous.


"You need to keep your hands behind your back. You're wrinkling my pants."

"I'm sorry," Fraser swallowed, releasing his grip on Ray's trousers, frustrated words burning the tip of his tongue. Why didn't Ray bind him? If he wanted that control, he could simply tie Fraser up. What was so difficult about that?

Ray shuffled back, holding his pants up, to the small couch that Fraser had been bent over more than once since this whole thing had begun. He sat, head tilted to one side, studying Fraser who waited for instruction. "Strip, Benny."

Fraser stood and hurriedly complied.

"Drop 'em." Ray said suddenly. "Don't fold them, drop them on the floor."

"Ray," Fraser clung to his clothes, staring astonished at his partner. "It only takes a minute -"

Ray's smile was sharp and his green eyes unrelenting. "Yeah, I know, but you don't keep your hands to yourself so you don't get to be Mr. Neat-and-Tidy. Do it, Benny."

It was terribly difficult to simply leave his clothes in a disordered pile. Ray knew that, Fraser realized, he knew that and demanded Fraser obey anyway. It was moments before he could leave them behind and sink, flushing, to his knees again. It was punishment, he knew, Ray's clever punishment.

"You're so beautiful," Ray's voice was low and relaxed. "Come here to me, Benny."

Fraser crawled to him because he wanted to, then knelt between his spread feet and rested his head on Ray's knee. Ray's hand soothed through his hair and he closed his eyes, sighing. He was hard, so hard he almost hurt and so soothed by Ray's touch, by his presence, that Fraser didn't want to move ever again.

"Mmm," Ray cupped Fraser's face in his hands and bent to kiss him. Fraser answered with open mouthed delight, feeling Ray bite his lips, nip his tongue, take his mouth with confident command. He locked his hands behind his back, he wouldn't make another mistake. He could feel the joy building in his body; a pool of heat in his belly, the wonderful tight ache of his balls. Ray's hands were on his skin, his breath in Fraser's mouth, his knees squeezed Fraser's shoulders. He arched and twisted, struggling to get closer, struggling against Ray's controlling grip just to feel himself fail. His penis rubbed against rough silk and he couldn't stop himself from humping Ray's leg.

"Slut," Ray broke off, laughing.

"Yes," Fraser panted. "Yes, Ray, yes."

"Yeah, and mine," Ray said easily, pushing Fraser back and sliding his shoe up Fraser's thigh. The leather sole was cold and Fraser shuddered, penis twitching. Ray's attention was on his erection, the bold red heat of it and he pushed at Fraser's thighs with his feet, spreading his knees wider. "Yeah, open up for me. Gorgeous."

Ray looked at him expectantly. "What do you say when someone compliments you?"

"Thank y-you," Fraser flushed deeply, stammering.

Ray shifted, running his feet idly up and down Fraser's thighs. He nudged Fraser's penis with his shoe, teasing him with cool leather, with exposure and Fraser's hips twitched uncontrollably. Ray snorted, "You got juice on my pants, Benny. My dry cleaners love you."

"I'm sorry, Ray," Fraser breathed and bent swiftly down. He sucked the damp spot on Ray's pants, tasting the tang of his own pre-come amid fabric cleaner and Chicago dirt. Ray indulged him for a few moments before chuckling and pulling his pants away.

"You're sucking the pleat off, Benny," he said. Fraser sank lower still, resting his flushed face against Ray's expensive Italian loafer and struggled to catch his breath.

He could almost forget the freedom of his body under the power of Ray's control. It was such a relief to know that Ray could do this to him, to know that Ray would never let him sink into the darkness he'd discovered inside his heart with Victoria. Victoria had stripped away any vestige of his control away and given him nothing back, had left him nothing to hold onto, left him alone with his darkness. Ray could pare him down to flesh and bone, naked to the heart, and hold him there with nothing but his voice and his understanding. And love. Fraser squeezed his eyes shut. After everything, it was love.

He rolled his head and kissed Ray's polished shoe. "Thank you, Ray."

"Yeah, Benny," Ray murmured. "Yeah."

The End (091005)