So. You remember how Ray is a little bit of a cross-dresser and Fraser was sure, surprised at first, but then more intrigued than anything else, and he told Ray he should feel comfortable enough with him to wear what he wanted. It's just clothes, after all, and they are dating, aren't they, so really, what does it even matter? And Ray looked at him for a long time and then gave him this wicked smile and asked if he was sure, and Fraser said he was and then maybe this happened?
Beta thanks to my girls, kristiinthedark and justbreathe80.
For reasons that Fraser was quite okay with not exploring at this particular juncture, Ray was - dressed up. He was wearing a short black skirt that clung to his thighs. He hadn't bothered with stockings, but instead had on smooth black boots that came up to his knees, with a chunky heel. The rest of his attire was typical Ray: a white sleeveless t-shirt, his hair spiked up per usual, and it wasn't as though he wore make-up or tried in any way to enhance himself. But Fraser could see the black straps of a bra peeking out from beneath Ray's sleeveless white t-shirt, and the cups of the - all right, perhaps lightly padded - bra lent a sort of feminine curve to his chest.
Fraser sat beside Ray on the couch as Ray propped one boot up on the edge of the coffee table - a posture which made the skirt he was wearing slide alarmingly up his thighs - and flipped though the channels on the television, peering at the screen.
"Nothing on," he said finally, leaving the channel tuned to some sportscasters going over an earlier Cubs game. He tossed the remote aside and shifted a little on the couch, looking at Fraser. "This is boring."
Fraser dragged his gaze up from Ray's thighs to his face. He was going to respond to Ray's comment with an observation that this evening was anything but boring, but his attention was caught again by the glimpse of lace that peeked out from under the strap of Ray's t-shirt, and he wondered how long it had taken Ray to get used to hooking it on himself.
When he finally managed to drag his gaze to Ray's face, Ray was looking at him with unconcealed amusement.
"Oh," Fraser said, swallowing tightly. "Perhaps you would like to - go out somewhere?"
"Would you?" Ray responded, and - deliberately - let his hand drop to his own thigh, resting half on the skirt he was wearing, half on his bare skin.
"I - certainly," Fraser managed, though honestly, at this point, he wasn't even certain he'd be able to get up from the couch, let alone walk anywhere.
"Right," Ray said, and now his fingers were sliding lightly back and forth along the hem of his skirt. "We could catch a movie."
"If you'd like," Fraser said, and his voice came out hoarse. He cleared his throat.
"Double-feature, maybe," Ray offered and Fraser knew Ray was talking, but he honestly couldn't make rhyme nor reason out of the words.
"Yes, that's - I'm sorry, what?" He was floundering and through a sheer effort of will, managed to drag his gaze up to Ray's face again.
Ray's lips curved into a grin. "Or we could just stay in."
"Yes," said Fraser instantly, then Ray moved closer and Fraser's hand moved all on its own to wrap around Ray's narrow hip, and dragged him forward. Ray was up against him on the couch, then, kissing him slowly, with far more patience that Fraser possessed at the moment. Ray kissed with fierce concentration, wrapping his strong arms around Fraser and tugging him closer.
Fraser moaned into Ray's mouth and when he opened his eyes, he found he had pushed Ray back onto the couch, and was half on top of him. Fraser's hand was still holding on to Ray's hip, the material of the skirt smooth beneath his fingers, and under his palm, he could feel the lines of the panties Ray was wearing underneath. Fraser groaned and buried his face against Ray's neck, tasting him there with his tongue even as he allowed his hand to move, to trace lightly over the lines of the panties where they rested on Ray's hip.
When he raised his head, Ray had his eyes closed, his mouth open, panting lightly at the ceiling. "Jesus, Fraser," he managed, opening his eyes and looking up at him. "I think you have a bigger kink for this than I do."
"I - perhaps," Fraser said breathlessly. He looked down to where his hand rested on Ray's hip, and slowly moved it lower.
Ray's breath caught in his throat, and from the corner of his eye, Fraser saw him bend his head to watch as Fraser ran his fingers over the hem of the skirt, along the same warm line that Ray had traced earlier. He slowly pushed his fingers up and under the edge. Just a little bit, just the tips of his fingers resting warm against Ray's thigh, hidden by the hem of the skirt.
"God, Fraser," Ray said thickly, and shifted under him. Fraser's gaze was drawn to where Ray was clearly hard underneath the skirt, his cock outlined by the thin fabric. "God, you've got to - " Ray moved his hips up, his erection barely brushing against Fraser's side, and Fraser couldn't help but move as well, pressing down against Ray.
Ray, his knee-high boots still on, spread his legs, his skirt riding up still further as Fraser's fingers moved up his thigh. "Jesus," Ray said tightly, and struggled underneath Fraser.
Fraser moved back immediately, his mouth full of apologies. "I'm sorry, I didn't - I shouldn't have -"
Ray finally managed to gain his feet, planting his boots on the floor and reaching down to haul Fraser up with him. "Shut up. Just come here. I have a whole bed in there."
His shirt was rucked up a little, and one of his shirt straps had slid off his shoulder, leaving just the tantalizing black bra strap. His hand was warm in Fraser's. "Okay, yes," Fraser said, and the broad grin that spread across Ray's face was electrifying.
"Come on," Ray said again, urgently, and, letting go of his hand, strode off towards the bedroom, heels clunky against the floor.
Fraser couldn't even move for a moment, could just watch the sway of Ray's hips as moved. This was nearly too much - he was dizzy with it, breathless, his pulse pounding. He took a breath, smoothed down his shirt with hands that shook just a little, and followed after Ray.
When he got to the door to the bedroom, he saw Ray sprawled on the bed. His legs were spread, and his knees up, and Fraser could see - god, he couldn't breathe - hot pink fabric between his legs.
Ray was watching him intently, his eyes heavy-lidded. "Take your clothes off."
"Yes, I - " Fraser was already struggling out of the flannel shirt, shoving it off his shoulders and onto the floor. Ray watched him, his hand tracing lightly over the curve of his cock through his skirt. Fraser hesitated with his jeans half-undone. "Ray, could you - that is, would you mind leaving your -"
Ray's grin got brighter. "I'll leave the skirt on, Frase."
"Thank you," said Fraser fervently and crawled up on top of him, his jeans, forgotten, still on and undone.
Ray spread his legs, and Fraser slid both hands up and under his skirt, hesitating only a moment before pushing the skirt all the way up. "My god, Ray," he said, and now his hands were shaking.
Ray was wearing hot pink satin panties underneath the skirt. Underneath them, his cock curved against the smooth fabric. The panties had side panels of black lace, stark against the pink, and Fraser lowered his head, pressing his mouth against the lace, tasting it with his tongue. He moved, then, his tongue moving wetly over the smooth satin, to mouth at the long curve of Ray's erection.
Ray groaned desperately. His hands were clenched on Fraser's shoulders, holding him there between his legs. Fraser was so hard, and he wanted - god, he wanted everything, all of it, all at once. Ray's skirt was caught up around his waist, and when Fraser lifted his head, Ray was looking down at him, his gaze dark, and he lifted himself off the bed a little, twisting lithely and tugging his shirt off over his head.
It left him clad in the bra, his skin pale against the black lace. One strap slid down off his shoulder, again, dangling against the muscles of his bicep, over his tattoo. And despite the attire, he was still so very much - Ray. The clothes - suited him. He looked down at Fraser. "Okay?" he asked.
Fraser had to swallow before he could speak. "Yes." He was staring, couldn't stop. "Yes."
"Jesus, Fraser, you should see your face," Ray said, his voice hoarse.
"Ray." Fraser kneed forward helplessly, undoing his jeans the rest of the way with shaking hands and shoving them down his thighs. "I - dear god, Ray, you're killing me with this."
"You love it," Ray said tightly, and Fraser, his jeans and shorts still low around his thighs, nodded and let himself - finally, it felt as though he'd been thinking about this forever - move forward, spreading Ray's legs open and stroking his hard cock right up against Ray's satin-covered own.
"Jesus," Fraser said, shaking. "I - oh, god, Ray, I -"
"Yeah," said Ray, his legs still bent at the knee, pressed himself up against Fraser. "Come on, yeah."
"I - " Fraser was sliding slickly up against the satin, up against Ray, hard and soft all at once, so hot he felt that he would burst into flames from it. His cock was leaking; he could feel it slicking the way on the satin panties as he thrust helplessly forward. "I can't -" He couldn't, there was no way to hold on. He wanted to make this last, wanted this to go on forever, wanted to catalogue and record every detail of it, so he could relive it, over and over and over again, every night of his life he wanted to relive this.
But Ray was looking up at him with hot, dark eyes, and then he drew his legs up around Fraser's hips. And Fraser could feel the slick leather of his boots there on his hips, feel the dig of the tough heels into the back of his bare thighs, and he cried out, pressing his burning face against Ray's neck and coming hot and hard and fast, spilling all over the satin covering Ray's cock.
"Fuck," Ray was saying breathlessly under him, and it seemed like it was from very far away. "Fuck, that was - Jesus, Fraser, did you even know you had this kink?"
"No, I -" Fraser said faintly, but Ray wasn't waiting for an answer, was instead pushing up against him, pushing him up and over, until he was flat on his back on the bed, still trembling.
Ray was on his knees over him, his skirt pushed up, his panties pulled down, one hand wrapped around his cock. He had his other hand braced on the bed beside Fraser, and he was panting hard, jerking himself off with swift strokes as he gasped out obscenities, his breath hot against Fraser's face. "Jesus Christ, Fraser, you were so fucking hot, so fucking, fucking goddamn hot, getting off on that, on me, like this." His hand was working quickly, and he was getting close. "You didn't even know, you never even knew, oh fuck, oh fuck, you - " He came all over Fraser's stomach in thick spurts, moaning like his heart was breaking, like he was going to fall apart, right here, braced over Fraser.
"Jesus," he said again, faintly, and lowered himself, shaking, onto Fraser's chest. "Oh, Jesus, Fraser."
Fraser worried for a moment over the mess they were making of the skirt, the panties, then thought to himself that his dry-cleaner had seen worse. He let himself run his hands down the length of Ray's back, stopping to run his fingers lightly over the clasp of the bra, then down to trace the waist of the skirt, then brazenly further down to run his hands up and under the hem, grasping Ray's ass and drawing him closer.
The bare skin under his hands, with the soft fabric of the skirt over the backs of them, Ray's panties still in a tangle on his thighs. Lord, the both of them still half-dressed - it all felt so electric that Fraser felt he could very gladly stay here forever.
Ray moaned lightly against his neck, and Fraser rubbed his cheek against Ray's hair, feeling himself smile. "Fraser," Ray said affectionately, "You're a freak." He kissed the side of Fraser's neck, and moved a little. "I've got to get these panties off."
"And I'm the freak?" Fraser asked mildly, his hands still holding onto the bare skin of Ray's ass.
Ray bit the side of his neck lightly. "We're both freaks." He sounded amused more than anything else, and Fraser took a deep breath of sweat and sex and them together before giving Ray a final squeeze and letting him go.
"Indeed," He said. "I, for one, am pleased with that."
"Me, too." Ray lay there against him, sleepy and sated, for another moment. "Me, too."
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