Girls Girls Girls

Ray was vaguely annoyed at Fraser for liking the fact that - for reasons that didn't need exploring at this goddamn juncture - Ray had breasts. It made him sort of wonder what that said, exactly, about Fraser's sexuality. Not that Ray, himself, was entirely one-sided about the whole sexuality thing. Because Ray liked girls too. He liked them plenty. Only right now, at this moment, he liked Fraser, and hey, guess what, Fraser's a dude. Which means he has a cock, and no tits, and is big and strong and has whiskers and testosterone and all that good guy stuff that Ray is right now lacking, thank you very much.

Ray thought Fraser should maybe be weirded out about that. That Fraser should be maybe looking at him and saying, "Hey, Ray, where's your cock?" Which, okay, that was his initial reaction, fine. But Jesus fucking Christ, you'd think it would take more than a couple of days to move from that to the look in Fraser's eyes right now, and his fascination with the whole thing. Not to mention his quiet yet intent suggestions that they should take advantage of the situation while they could, since who knew how long this would last?

Which. Okay. God. It was horribly weird, but it was also sort of kinky at the same time. Kind of. It was kind of like when Stella would wear a strap-on. Only actually nothing like that. Because Ray's cock was gone (Jesus fucking Christ), and he had this - god, all these girl parts and he didn't even know what to do with them.

Which sounded bad. Ray knew what to do with girls. When he had been with girls - not that that had happened in a while - girls had liked what he did with them a whole lot. He just didn't know what to do with himself as a girl.

Mostly, so far, it had mostly included a lot of stomping around (which was less satisfying, because he was so much smaller, he had no heft to him, and the first time, when he was flailing and pissed off and miserable and Fraser had grabbed his arm, and Ray had taken a swing at him, Fraser had stopped the punch alarmingly easily. That was fucked up, it fucking bothered Ray. This body was girly, it was a girl's body. He couldn't do anything with it and why would he want to, even?), and a lot of nasty fighting with Fraser (patience, Fraser kept saying. Like patience would make this any easier. Besides, had he even met Ray? What, he figured he'd lost a cock, so he'd gained some sort of an even keel? Screw that. Ray had proved that that, at least, was not the case.), and not much else. No good stuff. He fucking hated this.

And if Fraser would just stop looking at him like that, Jesus, he could maybe settle down a little. Fraser and his quiet, calm-the-fuck-down-Ray voice, telling him that inside, Ray was still Ray, that that was what was important. That obviously no mental changes had occurred in any way (Fraser kept his tone very carefully neutral there, but Ray still looked at him suspiciously, because he was pretty sure Fraser was making some sort of commentary on his everyday mental health.)

But in the end, Ray was a girl. A fucking girl. And Fraser was being really careful not to touch him at all, but god, he wanted to. Ray could tell Fraser really wanted to touch him. Fraser was curious, sure, whatever, Ray could get that, but Fraser wanted him. Wanted to fuck him in this body and that freaked Ray right the hell out because - had he mentioned? - at the moment, Ray was a girl.

It wasn't a sexuality thing, it was more basic than that. Hi. Vagina here. Where there used to be a cock.

It was just upsetting. And also - Christ. Fraser wanting him like this, it shouldn't have been a turn-on. Only, okay. It was fucked up. Because Fraser was sitting there, very carefully not touching Ray. And Ray was slouched in the corner of the couch, and his jeans were too big - all his clothes were too big - and he just wouldn't wear a bra, he wouldn't have even if he could have gotten the damn thing on, which was way harder than getting it off, especially if you were doing it all by yourself, and he was not, was in no way, going to say the words, "Hey, Fraser, can you help me hook my bra?" Just. No.

So no bra. Which was fine. It's not like he was stacked or anything. A handful, maybe. Plenty. Hell, more than enough since, hi, he wasn't supposed to have boobs. But, whatever. They were there, and they got in the way, and that was going to be the case no matter what. So he wouldn't buy new clothes, because he refused to even for a second think this thing was in any way close to permanent. He had on his regular jeans - which were too big, even with the weird curve his hips had to them now. He'd even had to turn up the cuffs two or three times, but once he did, they fit okay. And look, he had shirts. He was fine with shirts. It didn't even matter, girls wore t-shirts. All Ray would have to do would be to just pull on a t-shirt over it all and you'd think it would be fine, too-big clothes hiding it all.

Only the t-shirt - well, all of his shirts were sort of old, you know? Soft and worn and all. And it kinda clung to him, to his newly-acquired curves, and his damn breasts and - look. Okay. He was a guy, nipples were nipples, they were there, they could be fun, whatever. But now, as a girl, he had to, like, pay attention to them. Because - for no apparent reason, even - bam! His nipples would get hard. They'd be hard and showing through his shirt and he wouldn't even notice, not at all. Not until he'd be talking to Fraser and Fraser would be so very carefully not at all noticing - really not noticing, not at all moving his eyes even a little - Ray's erect nipples.

And then Ray would get red and he'd slouch down and cross his arms over his chest, and Christ, this was the worst thing since the random hard-ons he'd get when he'd gone through puberty.

So screw it. Finally Ray flung himself off the couch, muttered something about needing to be alone, and stalked to the bedroom. He flung himself on the bed, and just tried to breathe. You know what was bad? Well, it was all bad - none of it was good, what was bad was losing his cock, thanks - but in a more immediate sense what was bad was that he and Fraser hadn't had sex in over a week now. And it wasn't like Ray'd had a whole lot of free time to get all hot and bothered, not when he was so pissed like this, but -

See, the thing was - god, this was embarrassing - the thing was Fraser wanting him like that. Christ, it made it almost worse, Fraser pretending he didn't. That was like before they got together, Fraser constantly looking-but-not. And Ray just - it was like Pauline's dog or whatever, that reaction it caused, when Fraser looked at him like that, which was - ha ha funny joke time - not him getting hard, but him getting wet. Christ, that was embarrassing. And weird. But mostly embarrassing. Because he had no control over it, none at all. Which, okay. It's not like he had had any control over his cock either, but whatever.

The thing was every time Fraser was not-looking at him, Ray just knew that Fraser was - in some screwed-up way - getting off on this. Or wanting to get off on this, wanting to get off on Ray, wanting to fuck Ray so bad he couldn't even look at him. And that should have been annoying - was annoying, but, god. What would happen is that Ray's panties would get all wet.

Yeah. Okay. Fine. Ray was wearing panties. It was the only concession he'd made, and that was entirely due to all the new parts down there and the way his boxers - chafed. The only thing that made it remotely okay is that he'd made Fraser go out and buy them. Ray didn’t take any chances, either, that Fraser would send Frannie or something (Christ, he did not need Frannie buying panties for him). He'd made Fraser look him in the eye and gravely say the words, "I promise that I, Benton Fraser, will go buy you panties, Ray."

Which was actually a pretty fun moment in Ray's sad pathetic mess of a life, he had to admit.

And Fraser had been good, and gone and done it. Ray looked at him suspiciously as he eyed the pink bag Fraser brought in and held out to him, but Fraser's face was strictly sober, no smile lurking around the edges of his mouth or in his eyes. He radiated sincerity and Ray allowed it, because okay, Fraser had gone into a women's lingerie shop and picked out panties, and that really had to count for something.

And Fraser had been good, hadn't gotten him those frou-frou silky-shiny-embroidered-whateverthefuck stuff. Just your good, basic, black cotton panties, which were fine. They fit, and they didn't chafe, and they were fine.

Just. Dammit. It shouldn't be hot, but knowing that Fraser wanted him like that - that he was out there in the living room thinking about him. Fraser didn't even quite know all the details of his new body, so was maybe just totally caught up in wondering about it. Ray sighed. Fraser was probably hard, hard and uncomfortable and just so totally wanting Ray that - Christ, it was hot. And Ray's panties were wet, and Jesus, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He just - this was - Ray pushed his hand down inside the waistband of his jeans (big enough that he could do it without unbuttoning them) and stopped right at the edge of his panties.

Ray swallowed, his eyes shut tight, desperately blushing, because oh my fucking god, why did this feel like he was doing something wrong? Regardless of what was down there, it was his, for good or bad, and he should be able to do whatever the fuck he wanted, anything at all, like -

He swallowed again, and pushed his hand inside his panties.

And Christ - he was so wet. He just - Jesus, this was weird, it felt like he was doing something dirty here, which was ridiculous, and just -

"Fraser. Fraser," Ray called, pulling his hand out of his pants, and pausing for just a second before licking his fingers to see how he tasted. "C'mere."

Fraser appeared in the doorway, cautiously nudging the door open a little. "Yes, Ray?" he inquired, his eyes doing a quick once over of Ray sprawled on the bed, his jeans slid down a little on his hips, his t-shirt pushed up over his belly, and - Ray glanced down and rolled his eyes - yeah, his nipples were hard and visible through the thin cotton of his t-shirt.

This was crazy. This was desperate. Ray was desperate. He looked at Fraser wearily. "I need a hand here."

Fraser blinked at him, then put on his courteous face, stepping further into the room. "Of course, Ray, whatever I can do to be of assistance," he said, standing politely at attention.

Polite. The last goddamn thing Ray needed was polite. "Fraser," he said through gritted teeth. He beckoned his finger and Fraser looked curious, stepped further forward, and sat cautiously on the edge of the bed. "Jesus, Fraser," Ray said, exasperated. He grabbed Fraser's arm and yanked, and Fraser landed awkwardly beside him, looking more alarmed than anything else. Christ, they had barely touched since it happened. "I need a hand here," Ray explained impatiently, and grabbed Fraser's hand and shoved it down the front of his pants.

"Oh," Fraser said faintly, his face turning bright red almost immediately. "I - " And he shut his eyes, and took a deep breath, and then - Jesus. He left his hand where it was, just barely resting against the damp cotton, and shifted on the bed, so that he was still beside Ray, not on top of him, but his leg was in between Ray's, just sort of slung over him. And then Fraser was looking down at Ray with heavy-lidded eyes, and Christ, Ray's heart was pounding like he was going to have a heart attack and die here, because god, Fraser had been wanting this. Ray had a moment of panic, because Fraser had the look of someone who wasn't going to be able to stop once he started.

But what Fraser did was look at Ray, and look at him, staring into his eyes and nowhere else for several moments before pushing his face up against Ray's neck, and just - breathing. Like he'd been thinking about this, like he'd been desperate to know what Ray smelled like now, Ray-but-not-quite-Ray. And Ray just sort of blinked up at the ceiling and squeezed his thighs around Fraser's fingertips and wildly wondered if Fraser wanted to find out what he tasted like too.

Jesus, Ray hoped Fraser knew what he was doing, because Ray sure as hell did not.

Fraser lifted his head from Ray's neck, and looked at him again, with eyes slightly out of focus this time, and said in a rough voice, "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"Okay." Ray swallowed. Okay, hell, maybe he was a girl now, just a little, because that promise of Fraser's was more reassuring than it had any right to be.

Ray shifted, moving his hips up, and Fraser's eyes fluttered closed for a second, and he nodded to himself, and then - god. Fraser moved, got Ray's jeans unbuttoned, and all Ray could do was pant frantically up at the ceiling, because Fraser's fingers slipped into his panties, right down where he was wet, and just - stroked him. Just - Christ, Ray was clutching at Fraser's shoulder so hard his fingers hurt, and Fraser was moving against him, pressing his hard-on against Ray's hip rhythmically as he touched him.

"Ray," Fraser said. "Is this - can I -" And he - oh god - slid his fingers inside of Ray, and that was - that was -

"Oh god," Ray gasped. "Yeah - oh god," and he struggled, dislodging Fraser's hand as he kicked his jeans and panties the rest of the way off. "Do that some more," he demanded.

And Fraser nodded vaguely, but his eyes had dropped, and his hands were slowly pushing Ray's t-shirt up, further up, till Fraser's hands were cupping Ray's bare breasts, stroking his thumbs gently over Ray's nipples.

Ray dropped his head back and groaned at the ceiling. He'd known Fraser was a breast man. He'd known it, and now - he glanced down - yeah, now Fraser was freaking captivated with his breasts, was cupping one as he was running his tongue over the nipple of the other, and okay, yeah, that was fine but Ray had a more pressing issue here, and just - "Fraser. Fraser. Yo, Fraser."

Fraser looked up after one last, loving lick at Ray's nipple. He looked vague and dreamy, and his thumbs kept stroking away at Ray's boobs. "Yes, Ray?" He said.

"Fraser," Ray said gently, and god, it was weirdly hot watching Fraser's hands on his breasts. Christ, Fraser couldn't seem to take his hands off of Ray's breasts if he tried. He was panting slightly, and his hips kept moving against Ray's thigh as though he didn't even know it was happening. "Fraser," Ray tried again. "Just - " Ray stopped, and then just wriggled, struggling to get his t-shirt the rest of the way over his head. He flung it aside, and said, "Come on, let's just -"

"Yes," said Fraser immediately. "Yes, okay."

And Ray had his answer, because if Fraser had been wondering what he smelled like, then he sure as hell had been wondering what he tasted like, because he didn't even stop to lick as he went, just got his head directly between Ray's legs, and Ray couldn't - he couldn't even - it was, it should be, wasn't it weird? But fuck that, because god, he was dying here, Fraser's tongue was moving, tasting, working into him, and then coming back up and there it was, that was the spot, and Christ, Ray needed -

"Fraser," he moaned, rocking up against his mouth. "God, just -" Because it was almost right, the rhythm was almost there, and Ray moved his hips against Fraser's mouth until he got it, Fraser was smart, Fraser was very smart, Fraser was the king of smartness, because his tongue just - he was - "Yeah," Ray gasped, shoving his body down against Fraser's face. "God, that, please - you gotta -" and Ray was grabbing onto the sheets because he needed to hang on, this was different, this was really, really - Christ, different - and he twisted his hips, he didn't quite know how to get there, he just needed - he needed -

"Jesus." Fraser knew, Fraser had this, Fraser was all over this. One final, perfect stroke of Fraser's tongue across him and he was gone, just completely fucking gone, coming against Fraser's tongue, and just - holy fuck.

He collapsed against the bed, his hands still clutching the sheets, and he couldn’t move, would never move again, would just lie here in his messy, weird, girl-body and think about that orgasm forever and ever. That was good. That was fine. Sure.

Only, Fraser was moving. Fraser had moved away, and now he was back. And God, Fraser was kissing him - and there was that weird taste of himself again, on Fraser's tongue. There was Fraser's cock right up against him - Fraser'd put on a condom - and Fraser's breath was hot and quick against Ray's neck. He kissed him again, trying for his mouth but missing, landing on his cheek, his ear, his neck, rocking up against Ray, his cock sliding right there. God, Ray wanted that, he wanted it. He'd never known this, never known an orgasm to get him ratcheted up like this, frantically needing more. He'd known this was how it was for girls, but he hadn't known it, he hadn't even come close to realizing what this was like, this surge of yeah, good, more more more.

"Ray," Fraser was panting in his ear. "We don't have to - I mean, if you don't want me to -" Fraser had one hand around Ray's thigh as he rocked forward against him. Ray watched as Fraser took a breath and focused his eyes on Ray.

"Yeah," said Ray finally, moving up against Fraser. "Yeah, c'mon. Just - do it."

And Fraser said, "Are you sure?" His voice was rough, but he'd stopped moving, was waiting even though it must have been killing him, and Ray said, "Yes, just -" and he slid his hands down to Fraser's hips. Fraser took a breath and pressed his forehead against Ray's, and pushed inside him. Ray gasped and felt - well, mostly a belated sense of relief that he didn't appear to be a virgin in this body, because pain right now would suck, it really would. But jeez, this wasn't pain, it was the farthest thing from it. It was - strange, and it was wet, and it was ridiculously hot, entirely hotter than it had any right to be. Fraser apparently agreed, because he was panting urgently but was rocking against Ray slowly, slowly. It was good, but Ray needed something more, and he did that thing that girls did, he lifted both his legs up around Fraser's hips, and Fraser sank all the way into him and moaned.

"God," gasped Ray. "Yeah, that -"

Fraser had his face buried in Ray's neck. "You - this - Jesus, Ray, you're so hot inside, and it's - you're wet, and this is - very, very different."

"Yeah, well, you know, girl parts, did you not get that memo?" Ray panted against Fraser's neck, and shoved against him. "Come on, move."

"I knew, I just didn't - know," and Fraser moved his hips gently, slowly.

"Jesus, Fraser, just -" Ray pushed against him, then used his hands and his hips to shove Fraser over and off of him. Fraser, looking stricken, said, "Oh god, are you - did I - I'm sorry- " Ray snorted and climbed on top of him, held onto his cock, and sank down onto it, and - "Oh. Oh god." That was something - that was - wow. He had a lot of control from up here. He braced himself against Fraser's chest - frowning distractedly at his slim, girly hands - and this was - this was good, this was totally good, because god, yeah, he could do this, and Fraser was just sort of gasping up at him, looking totally dazed but not at all unhappy, and then his big hands held onto Ray's hips, just sort of held on as Ray rode him.

"Ray," Fraser said breathlessly. "A very fine idea."

"Yeah," Ray said, trying to just figure out the best angle to - "I - yeah." He tilted forward, letting his hands slide forward till he was almost resting against Fraser's chest. "Christ." This angle worked, it seriously worked, he was sliding against Fraser and it was hot, it was so completely hot, it was like the best masturbation in the whole world, it was that good, it was that easy, it was that times ten, because it was one of those guaranteed orgasms, it was building in his toes and if he just kept - doing - this -

He pressed his face against Fraser's neck and whimpered his way through another one of those weird orgasms where he came without actually, you know, coming (that's what it felt like, anyway), just shook his way through it from the inside.

Fraser's hands were tight and sweaty on his hips, and Fraser was shaking under him. "Ray - are you - can I -" Fraser was barely holding on and Ray grinned a shaky grin against his neck and bit him gently. Fraser groaned loudly, and then Ray was - hell, Ray was on his back with a whump, really damn quickly, and that had taken no effort at all for Fraser, none, and that was a little - okay, no time for uneasiness, because Fraser slid all the way into him, and with one last slightly worried look at Ray - Ray bared his teeth at Fraser and said, "Do it, already," Fraser was seriously fucking him. Fraser was slamming into him, just on the good side of rough, and Fraser was going to come any second now, Ray could tell from his frantic breaths, the bucking of his hips, and Ray lifted his hips and tightened around him (a move which was totally instinctive, yet a pretty neat trick), and Fraser said, quite clearly, "Oh dear god," and came, shuddering and collapsing heavily on Ray.

Fraser was saying things. Fraser was talking to Ray in a tone that sounded really sincere, really happy and possibly thankful. Fraser was probably saying nice things to Ray, but Ray had apparently retained at least a few guy traits, because what Ray was doing - while Fraser was doing all that nice-sincere-happy stuff (as well as the less fun condom-removal-type stuff) - was rolling over (ow. That was - ow, a little sore.) and heading really very rapidly towards sleep.

The lights were off then, and a warm body up against him. "Mmph," Ray said, moving closer as Fraser tugged the comforter over them, and wrapped an arm around Ray's waist. Fraser had been maintaining a strict distance between them as they slept - Ray had maybe stonily threatened Fraser's life when agreeing to allow Fraser back into the bed after his first couple of girl-nights - and this was - better. Ray was warm all over, and Fraser's arm felt comforting and safe around him (fuck it, that wasn't a girl-thought, Ray always felt like that), and Fraser kissed the back of Ray's neck, and Ray said, "Mmmph," again, happily, and that was the last he remembered.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"My cock!"

Fraser jolted awake. Oh god. Not again.

"My cock!"

It really wasn’t fair to have to wake up to this every morning.

"Fraser!" Ray was shaking him roughly, and Fraser pulled the covers over his head. "Fraser, hey, look, come on!"

Fraser peered out from the covers, to where Ray was standing next to the bed, staring down joyfully at his penis. Ray looked over at Fraser, a grin splitting his face. "It's back!" He patted his penis happily. "Come on, Fraser! Suck my cock!" Ray said ecstatically. "Because look! I have one!"

Fraser grinned and sat up. "That's wonderf - what?"

Ray was staring at him with a look of stunned bewilderment. "Fraser," he said. "Oh god."

Fraser twitched uneasily, and looked down at himself. He slumped back against the bed. "Oh fuck."

"Your turn to have boobs, I guess?" Ray said, scratching the back of his head and openly staring at Fraser. "That's kind of hot," he added.

"It is not," said Fraser crossly. God was punishing them. That was the only reasonable assumption. They had done something truly terrible in a previous life, obviously. Littering, perhaps.

Ray was grinning and kneeing his way onto the bed. "Oh, but it is. It's still you under there, isn't that how you explained it? Right, Fraser? And hey," he said, running one hand over Fraser's breast as Fraser slapped him away. "At least we know it's temporary now."

"Shut up, Ray," Fraser snapped. "I will actually kill you, you know."

"Aw," said Ray, grinning even wider now as he kneeled, triumphantly naked, beside Fraser. "Is that any way for a lady to talk?"

~end~

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