THE ORANGE SHIRT
By
Nikki Harrington
Ray and Ben have to go undercover. However, Ben is not sure about the shirt Ray wants him to wear.
A first time story.
Written: October 2012. Word count: 1,167.
"It's orange, Ray." Ben stared at the shirt Ray was holding out to him.
"Yes, Benny."
"I thought we were meant to be going undercover, Ray." Ben finally took the bright orange shirt from Ray, but he went on looking at it in a suspicious way.
Ray smiled at him. "We are, Benny." He pulled off his jacket and shirt and started to put on a bright purple and green shirt.
Ben stared at him. "But surely the object of being undercover is to blend in, not stand out? Will I not stand out in such a bright shirt?"
Ray sighed as he buttoned his shirt up. "And this from the man who races around Chicago in a red suit," he said.
"Actually, Ray, it is only the tunic which is red and I do not -"
"Enough already!" Ray said swiftly, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers and tucking the shirt in, before re-buttoning and re-zipping his trousers.
"But, Ray, I was only . . ." Ben trailed off under the look Ray gave him. He sighed silently; sometimes he really did not understand the man he had an unofficial partnership with. At times he thought Ray liked him, but at other times he seemed to irritate Ray all the time.
"Well?" Ray said as he began to tug the shirt out of his trousers just a little, arranging it just so, taking care to make sure it was pulled out an equal amount all the way round. Ben didn't understand why Ray did that; surely shirts were meant to be tucked in properly and be smooth and neat? But then Ray knew a lot more about fashion than he did - at least according to Ray he did.
Ben sighed softly. "Well, what, Ray?"
Ray rolled his eyes. "Are you going to put the shirt on or just stand there staring at it?"
"Are you quite certain this is the right color shirt for the assignment? Wouldn't a darker, more somber color be better?"
Ray sighed again. "Look, Benny, you trust me, right?"
"Of course I do, Ray," Ben spoke quickly. He may only have known Ray Vecchio for a few months, but he already trusted him more than some of the men he'd served with for years in the RCMP.
Ray smiled at him. "Right; well trust me now. You said it yourself we have to blend in; no one will give you a second glance if you wear that shirt, but if you wear a more somber one they will. Understand?"
Ben wasn't sure he did, but he did indeed trust Ray so after looking dubiously again at the shirt, he pulled his plaid shirt off, put the bright orange silk shirt on and started to button it up. He'd never worn a silk shirt before and he had to admit he quite liked the feel of it on his skin. It was almost as if it was caressing him.
He swallowed hard and tried to force away the image of Ray's hands rather than Ray's shirt caressing him. What on earth was he thinking of? Ray was his friend; Ray was his partner; Ray was his very heterosexual partner; Ray wouldn't be interested in him like that. He realized his hands were shaking very slightly and he silently ordered them to stop.
He was suddenly aware that he was being stared at; that Ray was staring at him. Swallowing hard again and hoping his face wasn't as flushed as he feared it was, he forced himself to look at Ray. There was a look on Ray's face he'd never seen before and it made me feel simultaneously hot and cold.
"Does it look all right?" he found himself asking simply to break the silence.
"Huh? Oh, the shirt, yes, Benny, it looks . . . It really suits you." Ray's voice was different too; it was more husky, sensual almost. Ben shook himself and told himself not to be so foolish. Of course Ray's voice wasn't sensual. Ray spoke again, "Although I thought they'd have taught you Mounties how to button a shirt up properly."
Ben blinked and glanced away from Ray's intense gaze down at the shirt; to his chagrin he saw he'd mis-buttoned it. He quickly moved his hands and began to undo the buttons. But Ray's hands moved even more quickly. "Let me," he said softly, gently brushing Ben's hands aside and unbuttoning the two mis-buttoned buttons.
Ben couldn't prevent a soft gasp from escaping as the tips of Ray's fingers touched his naked chest. He gasped again as Ray began to unbutton the rest of the buttons.
"Ray," he managed, telling himself to put his hands on Ray's and stop him from undoing any more buttons. But he couldn't move; he just stood frozen in place, staring into Ray's eyes, letting Ray's steady fingers unbutton his shirt.
"Yes, Benny?" Ray said; his tone was now definitely sensual and intense.
"Um," Ben swallowed as Ray undid another button. What had he intended to say? Oh, yes, "There were only two buttons not done up correctly," he managed, licking his lips to moisten them.
"Were there?" Ray asked innocently.
Ben swallowed. "Um, yes," he said and allowed a soft moan to escape from him as Ray parted the shirt and began to quite deliberately caress his chest.
"Are you quite sure?" Ray lowered his head a little and for a second or two let the tip of his tongue lick Ben's nipple, which hardened instantly.
"Um," Ben said, suddenly aware he wasn't sure of anything any longer except that Ray's hands were caressing his naked chest, his body was starting to react to the touch and he had to kiss Ray - and he had to kiss him now.
Without consciously thinking about it he put his hands on Ray's head, pulled it up, held it firmly and put his mouth on Ray's and kissed him. The next second Ray took his hands from Ben's chest and put them around Ben, pulling him nearer and nearer to him, pressing his body against him, letting Ben feel his body wasn't the only one which was aroused.
He heard the sound of the shirt ripping as Ray pulled it off and tossed it onto the bed; the next moment Ray had tripped him and they were on Ray's bed, hands moving over one another, undoing buttons and zips, pulling clothing off until they were both naked.
SOME TIME LATER
"Ray?"
"Yes, Benny?" Ray said his voice was soft and somewhat muffled as it rested on Ben's chest.
"Do you have another shirt I could borrow?"
"Huh?" Now Ray lifted his head and stared at Ben who groped across the bed until his hand found the shirt; the torn shirt; the torn orange shirt. He held it up and Ray stared at it, eyes wide in shock; then be began to laugh before he once more put his mouth on Ben's and kissed him.
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