Thanks: Many thanks to pearl_o for beta
Notes: For the Sexual Exploration challenge on ds_flashfiction
The package was on the table when Ray got home. It was about the size of a shoebox, wrapped in plain brown paper, and postmarked New Orleans. Ray picked it up and examined it. Heavy, with a slight rattle, as though it needed more styrofoam. It was addressed to "B. Fraser" without an honorific. What was up with that?
"Hey," he called through to the kitchen. "I'm home. What're you cooking?"
Ben came and stood in the doorway, drying his hands on a tea towel. "Anchovy and walrus stew," he said. "It's a traditional recipe, but I'm having to make some substitutions due to the lack of availability of arctic—"
"Yeah." Ray put the package back on the table. "Sounds good. I'm taking a shower." He shrugged off his jacket and threw it towards the couch, and paused to give Ben a quick kiss on his way to the bathroom.
Ben grabbed his shoulder as he turned to go, and pulled him back for a deeper, more focused embrace that left them both dazed and breathing hard for a minute.
Ray took a step back. "Shower."
Ben nodded. "Right you are." He disappeared back into the kitchen to tend to his stew.
* * *
The stew was good. Ben had substituted mushrooms for anchovies and beef for walrus. "I'm afraid this bears very little resemblance to the original dish," he apologized.
"Thank god," said Ray, and then changed the subject so Ben wouldn't start bemoaning the lack of caribou meat outlets in the greater Chicago area again. "What's in the box?"
"The box?" repeated Ben, innocently. His gaze flicked down to his plate and stayed there. "Perhaps some oregano would have been—"
"Parcel. Plain brown wrapper. Was right here, just fifteen minutes ago." Ray poked the center of the table, then got distracted by the fact that the wood was distinctly shinier than usual. "Have you been polishing?"
"Why, yes, Ray," said Ben, sounding hearty and relieved. "I had a spare fifteen minutes, and the furniture had grown lamentably dusty, so—"
"We gotta get you a hobby," said Ray, shaking his head. Then he tapped his fork against Ben's plate to get the conversation back on track. "The box."
* * *
"It's a what?" Ray stared at Ben's red face, shot a horrified look at the parcel, then went back to staring at Ben. Jesus! "How?!"
"I'm sure it comes with full instructions." Ben slid his thumbnail under the packing tape and peeled it off, leaving the brown paper pristine and shiny.
"Which is more than I can say for you," muttered Ray. "Listen, if you want me to—" He broke off as Ben lifted the lid of the plain brown box and handed him the promotional material.
Temporary Female Genitalia for Men
from Exotica Erotica: Novelty Sex Items
One use only!
Ray flicked through the booklet, wincing at some of the diagrams. Jesus Christ! "What were you—"
Ben was still flushed, and Ray was pretty sure the red didn't stop at his neckline. When Ben got embarrassed, it was a full-body thing. He stretched his neck out, making that horrible cracking noise he knew Ray hated. "It's not important, Ray. I simply thought it would be, ah, illuminating."
"Illuminating." Ray held out his hand to keep his partner's freaky ideas at bay. "Frase, if you want me to be a woman, you're shit out of luck."
"I'm aware of that, Ray." He coughed and met Ray's glare. "I wasn't expecting you to be the one to—experiment."
* * *
Ray watched while a naked Ben twisted awkwardly on the bed, trying to position the damned thing correctly.
"Would you mind re-reading the instructions on page 14? My testicles seem to be—ah. Yes, I think that's it." Ben lay back and squirmed. "Indeed." His voice sounded deeper, and vaguely husky, and Ray started pulling off his clothes, without even thinking, tossing his sweatshirt over his shoulder, kicking his pants onto the floor.
This was going to be good. Infinitely freaky and mind-twisting, but really, really hot. It was a trade-off Ray was prepared to live with. He crawled onto the bed and knelt over Ben, his hands on either side of his head, and then he stopped.
Ben was looking up at him, red-lipped and expectant. His eyes were dark, and his mouth was open. They'd been a couple for going on eight months now, and Ray couldn't remember the last time he'd stopped and paid proper attention to Ben. Had actually examined his face. God, he was so damned beautiful.
Ray let himself down gently, and gave Ben the sweetest kiss he could muster, lingering and careful, letting it say all the sappy Hallmark things he always forgot to put into words. Ben loved it. He pulled Ray hard down against him and grunted in the back of his throat as he kissed Ray back. Oh yeah. Oh yeah, they were good, the two of them. They were in synch.
For a second, Ray wished they weren't doing this experimental shit today. What he really wanted was for Ben to fuck him, long and slow and sweet, to feel that deep connection and fullness, and to know they were really together in this, just the way they were supposed to be. But hey, if this was what Ben wanted, this was what Ben was going to get.
"Uh, Ben?" Ray licked along Ben's collarbone and up to his jaw. "What do you want?"
* * *
Ben didn't just have an answer to that question, he had a fucking menu. Ray knew he shouldn't be surprised. Ben must've ordered the thing at least a couple of days ago—he'd had plenty of time to plan things out—and if curiosity killed the cat, it would've had a field day with crazy Mounties from the arctic territories.
Step one was oral. Ray'd gone down on Stella a thousand times, so he knew he could handle that. He was cool with it. In principle. In practice, though, this was Ben, and he had a cunt where it wasn't supposed to be, and Ray had to take a couple of detours on the way down to give himself time to adjust to the idea. Like a diver depressurizing, he told himself. So he wouldn't get the bends.
He kissed across and down to Ben's smooth pale hip, and then pulled back to see what was what. Okay, Ben's cock was up and hard, lolling to the side—Ray had to stop himself from sucking it into his mouth like he always did, every chance he got. And his balls were sort of sagging there like normal. Ray pushed Ben's knees up, and nudged Ben's balls out of the way, and there it was. A pussy. Lower than it would've been on a woman, and with a blurry pinkish line around it where it joined on, but real and—Ray ran a fingertip softly along it—wet.
"Gimme a pillow?" he asked, and he propped Ben's hips up so he could get down there and do the job right.
Okay. He stuck his tongue out—fuck, it had been so long since he'd done this—and pushed it gently between the folds—soft and wet and hot. It tasted like Ben, but girly, too. Sweeter. Ray's body reacted like it was a drug. He'd been hard before, but now he was electrically turned on. Every hair on his body was standing on end. And then Ben groaned deep in his chest, and Ray was on another planet of want. He had a whole fucking solar system circling his head, stopping any thoughts from escaping except oh god, he needed to fuck Ben here, like this. He needed to.
He held on though. He pulled back the lips and gave as good as he knew how, licking right up to the clit and teasing gently. Ben gasped and clenched his hands on his thighs, pulling them up and apart, giving Ray better access.
Ben was shaking and quivering. It was just like always, and it was totally fucking strange and queer. Ray's head whirled with annoying impossible questions about whether he was really gay if he got off on eating out his boyfriend's cunt.
Partly to distract himself, partly just because he wanted to, he let one hand stray up to stroke Ben's cock, and then it was like the world exploded. "Oh, God, yes!" cried Ben, "Ray!" and he shot his wad over his stomach, and his pussy twitched and spasmed against Ray's chin. Ben fell back against the bed, his legs stretched out limply, his arms reaching for Ray to pull him so they were face to face.
* * *
Ray lay back on the bed and watched through half-closed eyes as Ben lowered himself onto Ray's cock. He couldn't help comparing it to usual: a different angle, a different feel. It was gentler, less like breaching defenses. It was fucking hot and so wet, so very wet. Ray had to close his eyes and think about used gum and snow and calibers of ammunition to stop from coming.
"Oh, Ray," murmured Ben. "Oh, yes." He sank all the way down. All the way. And Ray lay there and willed himself to hold on, when all he wanted was to flip Ben over and fuck him into the mattress.
Ben moved slowly, surely. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, his eyes were wild and intent. He never once looked away from Ray's face.
Ray couldn't breath. He gasped for air, for mercy, for Ben to for Christ's sake let him move, but Ben held him there, pinned both his shoulders down, and Ben moved so his wet pussy stroked up and down Ray's cock again and again, driving Ray out of his mind.
* * *
Ray couldn't take it anymore. Any second now, he was going to let loose. He had to. That's when Ben stopped, the bastard.
Ben pulled off, gently, and lay down beside him. "Ray," he said, huskily, forcing Ray to pull together the frayed threads of his attention. "Ray, please fuck me. Please."
Ray groaned, and dug his nails into the palms of his hands, and by the grace of God managed not to come. He didn't have words anymore. He didn't have anything. He staggered to his knees, between Ben's thighs, and mindlessly, obediently tried to focus enough to press his cock back into the slippery heat of Ben's pussy.
"Fuck me hard," growled Ben, "now", and oh shit, he wasn't going to make it, but he did, he did. Somewhere deep down, Ray glowed with pride that he was doing this. That he'd been through this insane erotic fucked up incredibly hot torture, and he hadn't given in yet. He was hanging in there. Oh yeah. That was fucking stamina.
He slid into Ben, as hard as his shaking legs would let him, then pulled back and did it again, and fuck, stamina flew out the window. He could feel every muscle in his body tense, every nerve tighten. He felt like he was turning inside-fucking-out. Ben arched up, and Ben's hands gripped Ray's wrists, and Ben's cunt tightened around Ray's cock. Ray's whole body pulsed for the long second before release. He thrust in one more time and came, shouting, melting into Ben, his heart pounding.
* * *
Five minutes later, Ben had removed the pussy and thrown it in the trash, and Ray had got it together enough that he could talk again. "Love you," he mumbled against Ben's gentle lips.
"Mmmm." Ben sounded hoarse and muzzy. He collapsed back against the sheets.
A sudden nervousness clutched at Ray, and he rolled his head sideways to look Ben in the eye. "That wasn't a test, right?"
"Test?" Apparently Ben had been reduced to words of one syllable, so if it was a test, they'd both failed. That didn't make Ray feel any better.
"You know, checking me out. Making sure I don't prefer it like this. Making sure I'm really gay." Ray's stomach felt hollow at the thought.
Ben's eyes flew open and he met Ray's gaze, startled. "Of course not. It was just a game. A toy." His hand stroked reassurance across Ray's chest. "Did you?"
"Did I what?"
"No. Yeah. It was different. Novelty." He closed his eyes, and let his nerves settle. They were together, on the same page here. "I wouldn't have—"
"Done it with anyone else. I wouldn't have done it with anyone else." Ray grinned. "Not that anyone else would be freak enough to want to."
Ben shot him a sleepy answering smile, and fell asleep, his arm still heavy and warm on Ray's chest.
* * *
When Ray got home the next day, Ben was sitting at the table, writing. Ray came up behind him, leaned against him, and kissed the top of his head, breathing in the faint smell of shampoo and Stetson. "What's that?"
Ben put down his pen and twisted around in the chair for a more satisfying kiss. "I'm, ah, just writing a letter."
Ray squinted down at the form, which was headed Exotica Erotica Customer Feedback Survey. Ben had checked the "Highly Satisfactory" boxes, all down the first page, and had practically written a whole essay in the "Other comments" section.
"Yeah," said Ray, grinning. He bent down to give his partner another quick kiss, then straightened up and stretched, yawning. "God, I need a drink," he added. "Hell of a day. You want tea? Huey closed the Burbank case, and then Frannie started flirting with one of the witnesses, and we—"
On his way into the kitchen for a beer, he detoured to hang his jacket neatly on the hook by the door.