Author: Desiree Armfeldt
Title: It's a Comfort Thing
Fandoms: due South
Characters: Benton Fraser, Ray Kowalski
Rating: Mature (it's about sex but the sex isn't very explicit)
Length: 720
Angst-to-hope ratio: Low
Disclaimer: I didn't create these characters, I don't own them, I derive no profit from their use.
Summary: You can call it kink; for them, it's about comfort.
Bookkeeping Notes: Also fulfills the "restraint" square of my hc_bingo card (which means it counts towards the Cross-Pollinator badge).


It isn't about power, and it sure as hell isn’t about pain.  Not for either of them.  Maybe this sounds weird, but it’s really a comfort thing.

For Ray, it's about not having to be afraid.  When he's bound, hand and foot, to the bed, he doesn't have to worry about the damage he might do if he gets out of control.  He can’t hurt Fraser by being too rough, or too clumsy, or too greedy—can’t even hurt himself much by struggling, with the padded gear they use.  He doesn’t have to worry about looking like an idiot, because there’s nothing he can do about it one way or the other.  He doesn’t have to worry about saying too much, wanting too much, being too much.  Ain’t nothing he can do but hang on as Fraser takes him apart.  And when he does fall to pieces, it’s not his fault, and Fraser’s there to catch him.  Fraser can rip Ray open and look at the bleeding mess inside and smile like it’s a sight worth seeing.  And Ray can let it happen, because it’s not like he could stop it if he tried.  How could he, all tied up like that?

So, when life is shitful and Ray is wired and ready to blow, Fraser keeps him from doing anything too monumentally stupid in front of other people, and then, when they’re finally off duty and alone, just the two of them, Fraser ties Ray down and drives him hard, making him writhe and curse and beg and pant until he goes off like a bomb.  Afterwards, Fraser drapes himself like a heavy, breathing blanket over Ray's exhausted body, anchoring him as he melts into sleep.  Ray's always humming the next day, even if nothing is technically any less crappy than before.

For Fraser, it's about being forced out of his shell.  Now, normally,  he’s relaxed and generous when he makes love with Ray.  You might think from the way he acts in public that he’d be all shy and buttoned up and repressed, but most of the time, you'd be wrong about that.

But the thing is, when he’s upset, or especially when he’s feeling guilty about something, he locks down.  It’s like he goes off to some other planet where no one can get at him, not even Ray.  Ray gets the idea that on that planet, Fraser’s not allowed to be happy ‘cause he doesn’t deserve it.  Or maybe he’s afraid that if he lets himself be happy, the world will take his lollipop away.  Which isn’t as dumb as it sounds, when you think about how many lollipops Fraser’s had taken away from him, starting with his mother at age six.

So, when Fraser goes off into his head and battens down the hatches, Ray ties him up and gags him so he can't protest or deflect or apologize or ask.  And then Ray makes love to him, slow and teasing and fucking relentless, drawing it out literally for hours sometimes, talking to Frasser the whole time, soft and sweet and dirty, until Fraser shudders like he's being electrocuted and yells through the gag then goes limp, sweat pouring off him and his eyes squeezed shut.  In bed, afterwards, in the dark, they hold each other, and sometimes Fraser will talk, and sometimes not, but he always keeps his arms around Ray, or their hands linked, all the way through till morning.

And the rest of the time, which is most of the time, they do it slow and sweet, or sweaty and athletic, or half-asleep in the middle of the night.  (But never in the supply closet at the station.  Honestly, the dirty minds of some people.  Well, okay, there was that one time. . .but that doesn’t need exploring at this juncture.) 

The point is, it’s one of the things they do to take care of each other.  Like carrying a gun so your partner doesn't have to, or explaining what he means when his words come out wrong; like rubbing his back when it seizes up on him, or carrying emergency snacks for when he gets cranky because he forgot to eat.

Sure, you can call it kink if that sugars your Wheaties.  Ray and Fraser, they just call it love.