No Ordinary Love



Written May 31, 2003

This work is not to be reproduced in any way or archived
anywhere without the express written permission of the author

When he and I met, I knew that he was something - someone - special. He hugged me the moment he met me, protected me on the first case we worked together, and befriended me, a lonely man with only a wolf as a companion. As time slid by, I began to see more and more of who Ray Kowalski really was, and I was intrigued. Interested. He's a complex man.

I was stunned and amazed at the amount of trust and friendship he showed me from the beginning. I've never had a friend like him. Never. Not even Ray Vecchio - Ray Vecchio is completely different than Ray Kowalski. They are like the two poles of the earth - completely opposite from each other. Their world views are so dissimilar, I cannot imagine they will ever breach those differences and be friends. I will always treasure my friendship with Ray Vecchio, certainly, but I do not feel for him as I do Ray Kowalski.

I love Ray Kowalski.

I suppose it isn't so hard to understand why I fell in love with Ray - I've always wanted to be needed, and he needs me. Not to mention he treats me as an equal, not as some oddity to be pitied and stared at. Yes, he calls me a freak, but it's said with affection and exasperation and never any censure. I imagine it's an endearment of sorts.

We spent all of our free time together, Ray and Dief and I. Car shows. Movies. Shopping. Dinners at his parents' RV. He bought Dief whimsical patterned dog dishes which totally entranced my wolf. I left my clothes in his dresser, in his closet next to his clothing. I slept on his couch.

Finally, he suggested getting a larger place, an apartment that we could share. So we did. I now have my own bedroom and we finally have a larger kitchen, which I quite enjoy.

I love Ray quietly - no sense in telling him. Who does it hurt for me to love him? No one. And this way, he can never reject me.

At night, alone in my bed, I wonder what it would be like to make love with him. Would I be able to have intercourse with him, if he desired that? How would it feel if he touched me as a lover? What would it be like to finally say, "I love you," to him?

I don't want to be alone. I want everything with him, even though it scares me to death.

Even as a child, I was alone and thought that no one loved me, that no one needed me. In retrospect, I realise I was neglected. Not abused, no. I had food and shelter, but I was never hugged, never kissed, never once told that I was loved.

Until... Victoria.

Victoria Metcalf, who I thought was my salvation. In reality, she was my damnation. I was so starved for love and affection that I took whatever she gave me... whatever she wanted to do to me. I think of how Victoria wanted things that hurt, things that I never thought of having to give in the name in love. She would hurt me when we had sex if she could, and she would say things that hurt, that wounded.

She hurt me, both physically and emotionally. And I allowed it to happen, allowed her to do with my body and my heart what she would as long as she 'loved' me. Thank God, Ray Vecchio ended it for me, as I could not. I thought I loved her, but I was afraid of her, also. On a cold winter night, Ray Vecchio ended the madness I had with her, and I will carry those scars forever - the scar on my skin, on my back, and the scar inside my skin, on my heart.

Other than Victoria, I've never had a sexual partner. And after Victoria, I thought I never wanted sex again. Sex was a terrible, frightening weapon, one that twisted and maimed and hurt beyond belief. But now, since years have passed since Victoria, I begin to think that perhaps with the right person, sex might be a wonderful, beautiful gift. I don't know, though, if I'll have the strength to try and love someone again, to trust someone with such an intimate part of me.

I think I might find that strength with Ray. I desperately want to.

I let myself think of those things and about Ray, a scant distance away from me in his bedroom, sleeping. I think about how handsome he is, how his smile warms me, and how I have begun to have dreams of him making love with me, to me. In my dreams, he's gentle and loving, and I have decided that he would never hurt me. He's a gentle, caring man, for all his tough mannerisms. As I drift off to sleep, I decide that I will tell him someday soon of my feelings.

Two Weeks Later

He's sitting at one end of the couch, his feet tucked under my leg. We're both reading. Ray surprised me with his avid interest in most types of books - when I first met him, I never realised he was a bookworm. I glance over at him and his lips are moving soundlessly as he reads, his hair flat on his head, his glasses sliding down his nose. Yes, my Ray looks endearingly geeky. My Ray... I really have no right to call him that, but I do so in my private thoughts. It hurts no one.

I love the times like these, when we can both relax and just be ourselves together.

I glance out the window to watch the snow fall slowly by, and I dare to reach down and stroke Ray's calf as I stare out into the night, thinking about how to tell him what I feel, what I want. My thoughts are increasingly turning to pleasuring him and being given pleasure in return, and for the first time in years, I think I am whole again. It is truly a relief to know that I am not forever doomed to live as a monk.

Dief noses the front door, and I get up to let him out into our small fenced backyard instead, making sure that the dog door is unlocked so that he can come back in at will. I don't say anything to Ray's wordless protest of the loss of the heat of my leg on his feet. As Dief heads outside, I turn back to look at Ray again. His head is bowed over his book and I stare at him, entranced. He is beautiful. The words just spill out of me, no longer able to be contained. "I love you, Ray."

Ray looks up and smiles at me. "Took ya long enough to tell me. What were you waiting for?"

I stare at him, my heart pounding. "What?" This is the last thing in the world I ever expected him to say. I'm not quite sure what I expected, but I certainly didn't anticipate such easy acceptance.

He takes off his glasses, puts his book aside and rises, walking over to where I stand, still staring at him. He slowly puts his arms around me and hugs me tight. "I love you too, didn't you know that?"

I hold him tight and shake my head, words gone for the moment, stunned silent pleasure instead spiralling through me. He pulls back a bit, searches my face - for what? - and then kisses me gently at first. I can think of nothing but the way his mouth feels against mine and how different his kiss is from hers. He cups the back of my head, his long fingers sliding through my hair, and deepens our kiss, and I dare to slide my tongue against his lips. He opens his mouth, slides the tip of his tongue across mine and makes a low noise as I press against him, rocking my hips against his. I tremble in his arms as our mouths meet, as our tongues slide together. This is really happening.

We kiss for long moments, then he takes my hand and leads me to his bed. I follow him quietly, unable to take my eyes off of him, still unable to verbalise my want, my need. Perhaps he knows it, recognises it, anyway.

We stand by his bed and slowly, he undresses me, sliding my shirt from my body and kissing my shoulders, my chest, my neck. I want him and he wants me, judging by the way his erection is pressing against his pants. I smooth my hands over his head as he kneels before me, unlacing my hiking boots, and tell him again, just because I can, "I love you Ray."

Smiling up at me, he cocks his head and regards me for a moment, leaving me feeling shaky and unsure. What if he has changed his mind? Then, his voice slightly rough, his hands on my knees, he tells me the same. "I love you too."

When we are finally in bed together, under the soft covers he favours, I cannot refrain from touching him. He slowly touches me back, knowing somehow that I am hesitant despite my desire, despite the longing I have for him. Truth be told, it is fear. It is nothing but fear that has made me so quiet and uncertain, here, in this, with him. I never thought I would be so afraid. I thought I was past this fear, but the reality is so different than my imaginings - in so many ways. His skin is soft and pliant and his body fits against mine as if he were made for me.

"I won't hurtcha," Ray says softly, and I tremble as I nod. I do know that, I do, but I can't stop my trembling, nonetheless. His hands run across my skin as he attempts to soothe me, and yet, I cannot stop shaking. It's quite embarrassing.

He pulls back slightly and looks at me. "Don't you -" I see a flash of fear in his eyes and I stare at him. "- want me?"

In my haste to reassure him, I pull him close to me without thinking.

"Always," I breathe against his ear. "Always. I'm just... scared, Ray."

He pulls back, his eyes wide. "Why?"

"Because I... Victoria," I stammer.

Ray just looks at me, his arms loose around me as he waits. I swallow and then take a deep breath. "I know I need to explain. It's just hard."

"I know," he murmurs, running his hand across the small of my back, brushing the tips of his fingers lightly across one of the scars that marks me - dare I hope that he will be able to touch the other, and get past it, fix it?

"She hurt me, in so many ways, and yet... I would have done anything for her," I tell him, looking in his eyes, willing him to understand.

The corner of his mouth quirks up and he nods. "Yeah, I know. Been there myself."

In surprise, I realise he's right. "Stella," I murmur, running my hand across his chest.

"Yeah. But now I got you, right?" he asks, that flash of fear back in his eyes.

I nod, reaching up to place my fingertips on his lower lip. "If you'll have me."

He takes my hand in his and presses his lips to my fingertips. "I will."

Looking in his eyes, I realise it's a vow and that he is, for all intents and purposes, trying to fix me, trying to show me that I'm deeply loved by him. "For better or worse," I whisper, not quite believing this is happening.

"Yeah. For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish..." Ray says quietly, his eyes full of hope and love.

I nod, wrapping my arms around him and holding him as close and as tight as I dare. There is no going back, I know. And I don't want to. I want forever with him, and he is giving it to me. I also know that I would let him do what he will to me, just to be close to him. But there will be no pain here, no agony, only love and desire and loving together forever. I know that. I see it in his eyes.

Ray's penis bumps against me as his mouth finds mine as he slides his hand down to my buttocks. Neither of us are erect yet, but as his tongue slides against mine and I moan into his mouth and grip him tight, I know it won't take long for either of us. I can already feel the stirring in my groin and surely by the way he's kissing me, he feels the same.

He pulls away slightly, kisses down my jaw before turning to his bedside table. I watch in confusion as he fumbles in the drawer, pulling out a bottle. "Here," he murmurs, pressing it into my hand. My fingers close around the plastic of the bottle, barely glancing at the label on the lubrication. "Been thinking about your hands on me, about you in me."

My desire rises a notch at his words and the corner of his mouth lifts in a half-smile as he watches me, lying flat on his back next to me.

I set the bottle aside and reach for him again. Pulling him close to me, I nuzzle his throat, listen to his breathing as I kiss and touch him. And while I'm making love with him, I realise that he has more of my trust than anyone else ever has. I trust him. With my body, with my soul, with my heart. My penis fills at the thought of what we will do here together.

I touch him, wrapping my fingers around his thickening shaft and he moans as I stroke him. He hooks a leg over mine and thrusts into my hand. Suddenly I can take no more, and I flip open the lid on the bottle of lubrication, pouring the silky slick liquid over my fingers, and slide my hand underneath him, touching him. Ray hums and closes his eyes as my fingers slide over the entrance to his body.

I don't know what I'm doing. "Ray..." I say softly, unsure, uncertain.

Ray opens his eyes and the want and the need and the love that I see there overwhelms me. I lean my cheek against his and take a shuddering breath. Finally, I choke, "I've never done this..."

"Me either, Ben... but I've dreamt about it," Ray says, rolling over, lying on top of me. "I've dreamed about this for a long time. You won't hurt me, I won't hurt you." His hands caress and calm me and I nod, running my hand across the curve of his buttock before pressing my still slick fingers inside him.

Ray groans and I stop, worried that I have hurt him. He shakes his head. "Don't stop!" he orders, and I nod. With my free hand, I cup the back of his head and kiss him as I slide another finger inside him, gently twisting my two fingers as I push even deeper into him. He pants, squirming against me, and my penis is poking against him, wanting into that blissfully hot heat of his body.

"Lie on your back, Ray," I murmur, pulling my fingers out of him.

He shakes his head, pushes himself up to a sitting position. "Hold... on...." he gasps as he rises up and pushes himself down onto the head of my penis, eliciting a gasp from me and a low groan from him. I hold his hips as he forces himself further onto me as I lie as still as a statue. Finally, I'm sheathed completely in his body, and our breathing is harsh and loud in the room.

I stare up at him, and he looks down at me, lacing our hands together. "Move," he mutters, rocking slowly upon me. We move together, sweat shining on his body as we make love, my hand wrapped around his penis, stroking him, wanting nothing more than to bring him to orgasm.

He kisses me hard, panting, "I love you," into my mouth, and I swallow the words, keeping them with me, in me, forever. What I have with him is no ordinary love.

Ray sits up on me, taking me deeper into him and he moans my name, throwing his head back, exposing the fine line of his throat to me. With a shout of his name, I orgasm just as I feel the slick wetness of his orgasm running over my hand.

He whimpers slightly as I pull out of him and then rolls off of me to lie next to me. My first fear is that I've hurt him, so I hurriedly, worriedly, check him for bleeding. I see none. Relief passes through me, and I feel almost light-headed from it. I would never want to hurt him. "Ray?"


"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Fraser," Ray says crossly, opening one eye to glare at me. He tugs on me, trying to get me closer to him, so I lay on my side next to him. I make no move to hold him, unsure as to whether he would like that. I want to, but my reluctance is borne of not knowing, and so I wait for a signal from him as to what he wants.

He turns his head to look at me. "I don't bite." When I just look at him, he sighs. "I want you to hold me, okay?"

I smile and nod, and pull the blankets up over us before I slide my arms around him. He scoots closer to me and slides his leg between mine until we're tangled together.

Ray kisses my nose and I laugh, surprised, and he grins. "Love ya, Fraser."

"I love you too, Ray." I kiss him back - on the nose of course, and we both laugh.

Ray sighs and scoots closer to me. "I've been waiting forever for this."

"Me too," I murmur, placing a kiss on his cheek. "Me too, Ray."

"It's forever, okay?" he tells me, his voice rough, and I nod, agreeing with him. He looks in my eyes, and even though I'm not sure what he sees, he finally looks satisfied and says, "G'night."

"Goodnight, Ray."

I lie there and watch him and hug him tight, thankful that after all these years of waiting, I've found someone who really truly loves and wants me, someone who will not hurt me if they can help it, someone who will do their best to fix the scars on my heart. Someone who is no ordinary man - Ray Kowalski.

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