Fun Games

Author: A. Kite (Sept. 2006)

Pairing: Fraser/Joe Dick (HCL)

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Written for the Get Fraser Laid Live Journal community with this Prompt: Prompt #228. Fraser/Joe Dick (HCL) - "I believe the word you're looking for is crass."

Notes: I owe a tremendous amount of thanks to justbreathe80 for rendering beta assistance just at a time when she was the most busy in RL and for also running the challenge. Thanks, sweetie.

Vancouver to Whitehorse, Whitehorse to Dawson City, Dawson City to Inubuttfuck, Joe was tired and surly when he got off the Air North plane. He was dying for a smoke too, but it'd have to wait until they unloaded his guitar. The fuckers had made him check it, even though the plane was only half full. He stalked into the terminal to see if anybody from this Weasel Festival was around. He was going to kill that Mulligan when he got back home for booking him to play this thing.

The baggage was unloaded from the plane, and all the other passengers had claimed theirs and left, but no one had come to pick him up. Joe grabbed up his bags and went outside. It was still cold as fuck for April, but at least he could smoke while he waited. Three butts lay crushed under the heel of his boot before an SUV with the RCMP emblem pulled up to the terminal.

The Mountie that got out was so clean-cut, so earnest, and so very pretty. "Mr. Dick? I apologize for not being here to meet your plane. I was inadvertently delayed."

"A Mountie? They sent a Mountie to pick me up? Hell, I haven't been here long enough to do anything to get arrested for." Though, what he was thinking he'd like to do with the Mountie's pretty mouth was enough to get him locked up.

"Oh no, sir! I was assigned as security for the Jamboree. I'm to show you to your hotel and help with anything you might need. Forgive my manners, Constable Benton Fraser, at your service." The Mountie tipped his hat to Joe and held out his hand. He tried to hold on to his anger, but in the end he had to laugh. At his service, eh? Joe liked the sound of that.

"You can fucking knock it off with the sirs and the Mr. Dick. I'm Joe."

Fraser scratched his eyebrow with his thumb and said, "Well then - uh - Joe. Let me get your things, and I'll drive you over to the Eskimo Inn. We've reserved a room there for you."

The Mountie grabbed his bag, but Joe insisted on carrying the guitar himself. Once in the truck, Joe reached into his pocket for a cigarette, but Fraser stopped him. "Please, no smoking in official vehicles."

Joe sighed and put it back. "This room you got for me, it's a smoking room, I hope."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure accommodations can be made. I'll speak to the management when we get there."

"Terrific. That's fucking great."

Joe looked out the window as they turned onto Mackenzie Road. The town had one stoplight and a big banner proclaiming the 36th Annual Muskrat Jamboree. Fraser was rambling on about this and that, but Joe stopped paying close attention until he said, "I must confess, I'm not familiar with your music. Do you know any of Stan Rogers' songs, by chance?"

Oh yeah, he could see this was going to go real well. No way were these people going to like his music. He'd be lucky not to be ridden out of town on a rail. Mulligan was a dead man. Meanwhile, the Mountie was waiting expectantly for his answer. "That would be a no, I don't cover Stan fucking Rogers."

Fraser's face fell. "Oh. Look, here we are at the hotel. Let's get you inside and see about that room," said with false cheeriness.

They went in, and the Mountie was as good as his word. He got Joe's room changed and even went as far to play bellhop. He opened the door and led Joe into the hotel room. "I hope this is adequate. I'm afraid the festival's budget doesn't extend to offering our guests suites."

Joe sat the guitar down and said, "It'll do. Obviously, you've never stayed in a band house." Fraser's phony cheerfulness was getting to him. It made him wonder if there was a real person underneath all the polite crap, and he was in a mean enough mood to find out.

Joe took off his coat and slung it over a chair while the Mountie droned on about the amenities of room. "Hey." Fraser stopped talking and turned toward him. Joe reached down and grabbed his crotch. "You do anything with that mouth besides talk?"

Fraser's face flushed red and then grew angry. "You sir, have to be the crudest, most foul-mouthed -"

Joe laughed. "I believe the word you're looking for is crass, but while you're making up your mind, why don't you suck my cock?"

The Mountie advanced on him looking pretty menacing, but that made Joe smiled wider. It confused Fraser, who got within swinging distance and stopped. "Why are you purposely trying to provoke me?"

"Hey I figure I've got a fifty-fifty shot here. Either I'll get punched or maybe get blown. Either way is good. At least you're feeling something."

Fraser licked his bottom lip in what Joe thought was a really slutty way. "And what if I'm the one that wants, as you say, to get blown?"

He immediately blushed and looked away.

"Hey, none of that shit." He got Fraser to look at him again. "It's all fun games. I get you off, you get me off. Why don't you take off your coat and stay a while?" Joe went to his knees.

Fraser slipped off his coat while Joe worked opening his pants. And what do you know? Just like he thought, the Mountie was already hard.

The foreskin was already pulling back, and Joe licked at the exposed head. Fraser jerked and hissed in response. Oh yeah, uncut cocks were really sensitive. He'd have to take it easy at first.

Joe licked his way down and back up the length of Fraser's cock before he opened his mouth and let it slid in. He titled his head back to look up to see how the Mountie liked it because he sure couldn't tell by the sound. Other than that first hiss, Joe hadn't heard anything. He looked up to find Fraser stiff and clenched. His jaw was clenched, and he had his eyes squeezed closed. His arms were stiffly at his side with his fists clenched. You'd think the fucker was being tortured, not sucked.

Joe pulled off. "Hey, dead guy. You can touch, you know, and maybe show some appreciation. I don't suck just anybody's dick." He grabbed Fraser's hands and put them on either side of his head. Those hands guided Joe's mouth back to work. That was more like it. He felt Fraser's eyes on him and decided to give him a good show. With one hand on Fraser's ass, pulling him in, Joe opened wide and took his cock all the way to the root. The Mountie made one long, low moan and came down his throat. His knees gave out, and Fraser collapsed to the floor beside Joe.

Joe let Fraser rest a minute and gave himself time to bask. Damn, he was good. Joe Dick, Super Punk: able to make grown Mounties shoot their wads in two minutes flat. He pushed himself up.

"Come on, Mountie-man. Up off the floor. My turn now." He thought there might be a fight at this point. It was one thing to get a blowjob, who wouldn't want one? But it was a whole other thing to give one. He held out a hand to Fraser, and to his surprise, Fraser took it.

He hauled the Mountie to his feet and started unzipping his pants. Fraser did that lip-licking thing again and said, "Err - how do you want to proceed?"

"What?"

He cracked his neck and admitted, "I've, uh, never actually done this before."

That made Joe's fucking day. Teaching a Mountie how to suck dick had to be earning him points somewhere. He acted like he was put out, though. "Oh Jesus. Here, I'll make it easy on you." Joe kicked his boots off and took off his jeans. He sat on the end of the bed with his legs spread. "Come on, on your knees. See? I'll even hold it for you so you don't choke. All you got to do is suck. No teeth, understand?"

Fraser nodded. "Understood."

He got on his knees, leaned forward and took Joe's cock into his mouth.

The only way this could be any better was if, somehow, the Mountie could be wearing his hat and sucking too. For an amateur, he wasn't bad. Hot and wet, kind of sloppy. Joe's fingers were getting wet from Fraser's spit. He started out licking around the head. Then he really got into it; going further, taking more, bobbing his head until his lips were bumping Joe's hand.

Fraser reached out blindly and found Joe's other hand, directing it to his head like Joe had done to him. Joe sank his fingers into Fraser's hair and tried not fuck his mouth. Joe had to move the hand he had holding his cock when Fraser took that over. He wiped his wet fingers on his shirt and put his hand on the other side of Fraser's head.

He was getting close. He tugged lightly on Fraser's hair. "Pull off. I'm gonna come." Fraser shook his head, not letting up for a second.

"I'm not fucking kidding. Pull off!"

Fraser grunted, in what Joe took as disagreement. "Oh, fuck," he moaned. Joe shot - one - two - three times into Fraser's mouth, and he took it all.

Joe let himself fall back on the bed to recover. He didn't stir until he felt Fraser get up off his knees. He cracked one eye open and watched the Mountie pull himself back together. "Hey." Fraser turned to him, hat already on his head. "I guess saying thanks would sound pretty fucking stupid."

He cleared his throat, half-smiled and said, "Politeness is never out of place. Thank you kindly for a most...instructive encounter."

Fraser walked out the door. A different Mountie came later to escort him to the community center for the Jamboree. When he asked, Joe was told Fraser was out on patrol. He was a hit, which was not as surprising as you might think. You have to be a bit of a rebel to choose to live above the Arctic Circle.