Deep Within My Heart

Benton Fraser, RCMP, and Stanley Ray Kowalski, Chicago PD, had not planned on an actual honeymoon. They would have been content to spend their week of leave quietly in their apartment. But the day after their wedding, Barbara and Damian Kowalski arrived with a surprise wedding gift. Announcing that all newly weds should have a honeymoon, Barbara presented the pair with round trip plane tickets to San Antonio, Texas, and pre-paid reservations at the Menger Hotel.

Damian understood his wife's desire for her boys, as she called Stanley and Ben, to go to San Antonio. When they had lived in Arizona, San Antonio had been a favorite vacation spot for the Kowalskis. The city was a rich ethnic blend of the various peoples who had settled there over the years. From the Native American and Spanish influence, to the solid Germans who had developed the King William District, to the military bases which introduced a multi-national flavor, San Antonio was unique.

Damian favored having the boys stay at one of the modern hotels in town, the Marriott or the Hilton. But Barbara had it set in her mind that they should stay at one of the historic hotels, the St. Anthony, or the Menger. She spent days going over her old tourist maps of the city, finally deciding on the Menger. It was the oldest hotel in town, having been built in 1859 when San Antonio was a rough and rowdy cow town, and introduced an elegance never before seen in that part of the country. It had known its share of famous occupants: Robert E. Lee and Theodore Roosevelt, the authors O. Henry and Oscar Wilde, the flamboyant Lilly Langtree, Sarah Bernhardt, and Mae West. And it was rumored that the hotel had more than one ghost. Having overheard a somewhat heated argument between her son and his lover over someone from Ben's past, it touched on Barbara's sense of the absurd to have them stay at a haunted hotel.

Barbara had one additional motivating factor in sending her boys out of town. Since she and Damian had moved back to Chicago, her fingers had been itching for a chance to do something with their apartment. The plane hadn't even landed in Texas yet when she had the new curtains she had made hanging in the living room windows. Humming a tune from her childhood, she fingered the soft, rich brown material she had chosen and began the task of reupholstering the couch...

. . . . . . . . . .

An audible smack on Ray's bare butt woke him immediately

"Whadja do that for, Frase?"

"Well, Ray, my husband, when you sleep with your knees tucked beneath you, your derriere presents a most irresistible target."

"And for that ya whacked me?"

"Yes, Ray, and to wake you."

Ray rolled over and stretched, pushing the sheet and blanket away as he did, exposing the entire length of his lean, naked body to his husband.

"So, Frase, did ya want me awake for anythin' in particular?"

"Yes, Ray, I did. I want to be present when the Alamo is opened to the public this morning."

Ray stared at Fraser and managed to sputter out "What?? We got here last night an' you wanna drag my ass to see some old ruin already? I thought we could, ya know.." And with that Ray ran slender fingers across his own chest, tracing swirls across and around his nipples. One hand trailed its way sensuously down his body toward....

"You shower and dress and I'll meet you in the dining room for breakfast" Fraser said over his shoulder as he left their hotel room and closed the door, leaving behind a very disappointed Ray Kowalski.

. . . . . . . . . .

Standing in front of the old limestone mission, Ray felt that his earlier assessment of the Alamo was justified. There was nothing significant about the place. It was truly just an old ruin, a well preserved one, but a ruin all the same. His assessment of the place was also colored by the fact that his husband and lover had chosen this place over himself as a way to spend the morning. Ray was in no mood to appreciate old Spanish architecture or the historical significance a building and an event made popular to the American public by Walt Disney and John Wayne.

"See, Frase? It's just an old ruin. Can we go now?"

A grizzled old Texan overheard Ray's comment. "Young whipersnapper" he commented to his great grandson, a child about eight years old. "Son" he said to Ray, "I don't think you rightly appreciate jest what you're a'lookin' at."

Ray turned to the old man and was about to make one of his more sarcastic Chicago remarks when he really looked at the old timer. The man was about ninety years old and had once stood well over six feet. His advanced age had given him a stoop that dimished his height. He was even more slender than Ray. An ancient Stetson sat atop a head of longish black hair laced freely with white. The lines on his face told of a man who had lived and worked endless years in the harsh south Texas sun and heat. The jeans he wore were not designer jeans. They were well worn old Levi's that had probably been new when Ray was a teenager. His boots were scuffed and worn. Ray took a step backward at the presence of self about the old Texan.

"You are familiar with the Alamo?" Fraser asked.

The old Texan pointed to the monument across Alamo Plaza and said "Listed on that there monument is the name of every man who fought and died here for freedom. More than one of those names are the Mexicans who found Santa Ana too oppressive."

Turning his back on the mission itself, the old man pointed across Alamo Plaza to the stores and museums across the street. "The outer walls of the Alamo extended way past those buildings you see there. Where the Mexican army, thousands of 'em, camped is now mostly homes. People live where those men pitched their tents and waited for the order to attack."

The old man's voice took on a reverent tone as he said "Think about it. There was about three thousand of them Mexican troops and one hundred eighty two men defending this old mission. The siege itself lasted thirteen days. And the commander, Travis, gave the men a chance to leave. No questions asked. But they chose to stay. And they knew that they were going to die."

At this point, Ray found himself caught up in the old man's story. The Texan had closed his eyes and Ray thought that the old guy was actually watching history happen.

The Texan continued. "The actual battle itself lasted less than a day. No way this place could be defended against so many. History questions just who died where and how. That ain't important. What does matter is the men who died here gave old Sam Houston the time he needed to finish raising an army and defeat Santa Ana. Not the first time men have given up their lives for an idea. Sometimes I think I can hear the sounds of the battle, the old canons and the muskets."

The old man was quiet then. Minutes passed without a word and then Ray said "Fraser, I think I'd like to go inside."

. . . . . . . . . .

Evening descended gently upon the city. The huge cypress trees which lined the San Antonio River still bore their gentle burden of twinkling lights which illuminated the famed Riverwalk each year from Thanksgiving until just past the new year. Fraser and Ray strolled slowly down the limestone path that edged the gentle turns of the river. Everywhere they looked, lovers were holding hands. Some were male/female. Some were female/female. More than a few were male/male. Fraser and Ray were astonished to see the diversity of love that flourished in this deeply Southern city. Surrendering to the moment, Fraser drew Ray to himself beneath the stone bridge that passed over Alamo Street. Pushing Ray gently back against the stone wall beneath the bridge, he pressed their bodies together and kissed Ray. Somewhere in the distance a western band was playing "Deep within my lies a melody, a song of old San Antone."

Feeling the suddenly rapid beat of Ray's heart, Fraser whispered into his ear "Ray? Wasn't there something you wanted this morning?"

Ray felt his knees buckle slightly at the husky tone of Fraser's voice and knew that if he hadn't been held tightly between the wall and Fraser, he wouldn't have been able to stand. His voice wouldn't form an answer, he could only nod his head. Pulling Ray away from the wall, Fraser draped an arm over Ray's shoulder. Together they made their way, a little more quickly now, back down the Riverwalk, up the stone steps, and the short distance across Alamo Plaza to their hotel.

They stopped in the lobby only long enough to retrieve the key to their room. The concierge, who had been on duty when they arrived the night before, handed Fraser the key. His fingertips lingered perhaps a second too long on Fraser's hand as he whispered "I took the liberty having a chilled bottle of champagne placed in your room, Sir."

Fraser flashed him a smile and answered "Thank you kindly" before turning to guide Ray to the elevator.

Once inside their room, Ray practically threw himself at Fraser, but Fraser pulled back. Taking Ray gently in his arms, Fraser kissed first his eye lids, then his nose, before allowing Ray to taste the softness of his lips. Leading Ray across the room, Fraser gently pushed him back onto the bed and lay down beside him. One strong, broad hand reached out to tenderly touch the angular planes of Ray's face.

Slowly, Fraser raised the t-shirt Ray was wearing, his strong hands caressing Ray as he did. One at a time, Fraser uncovered Ray's nipples, licking and kissing them with loving tenderness. Pulling the t-shirt off, Fraser ran his fingers through Ray's hair and kissed his lips again. Softly, then with greater urgency, Fraser slid his tongue across Ray's lips and into the depth of his mouth. His hands roamed down his lover's arms and across his chest, fingers flicking across Ray's nipples gently, lovingly. His lips followed, kissing and sucking those delicate nipples.

Slowly, Fraser moved his hands and unfastened and unzipped Ray's slacks, one hand sliding inside and capturing Ray's manhood through his shorts. Ray pushed against Fraser's hand. One slender arm slid behind Fraser's neck and Ray pulled him down for another kiss. As they kissed, Fraser's hand moved up and down the length of Ray's cock, caressing him through the soft material of his shorts. A low moan escaped Ray's throat.

Fraser moved away from Ray and removed his own clothing before returning to remove Ray's shoes, slacks and shorts. Lying down again, Fraser took Ray into his arms and kissed him once more whispering "I love you, Ray."

Moving to the end of the bed, Fraser ran his hands across Ray's tight abdomen and down the front of his thighs, pushing them slightly apart as he did. Fraser's nose nuzzled into Ray's pubic hair as he absorbed the smell of his lover.

Ray's body was burning with desire. Fraser's gentle but thorough foreplay had raised his senses to a fever pitch. An uncontrollable "Oh My God!!" escaped his lips as Fraser drew his tongue across Ray's balls and part of the way up the underside of his stiffened shaft. Then Ray felt Fraser gently run that talented tongue across the head, probing lightly at the small slit. The fire raging through his loins intensified as Fraser sucked softly, slowly on the head. Ray began a rhythmic moving of his hips as Fraser, in agonizing slowness, gradually took all of Ray's throbing cock into his mouth. The tongue, teasing and enticing, licked up and around Ray as Fraser began to suck. The feeling was gentle at first, then building in intensity until Ray felt as though his very soul was being drawn into his husband's mouth. Instinctively, Ray moved his thighs further apart and twined his slender fingers in Fraser's hair. He had no control over his passion. Only Fraser had that control. Ray felt one broad finger enter his anus, roughly since Fraser had no lube on that finger. But Ray felt no pain, only total release as that touch sent him over the edge and into a white oblivion of absolute pleasure.

Fraser gathered a trembling Ray into his arms and kissed him as Ray's body gradually relaxed. Returning Fraser's kisses, Ray whispered "What about you, Frase?"

"In time, Ray, in time" was Fraser's response.

Ray kissed Fraser again, this time running his slender fingers sensuously down the arms and chest of his lover. "C'mon, Frase, it's our honeymoon. We're both suppos' to enjoy it."

"Well, Ray" Fraser whispered back, "Do you remember how you were sleeping when I woke you this morning?"

"Yeah"

"Do you think that you could . ."

In an instant Ray had rolled over onto his stomach and tucked his knees beneath himself, his pert little ass thrust up and open. Fraser quickly grabbed the tube of lubricant and coated himself. Kneeling behind Ray, he grasped him by the hips and slowly guided himself into his lover's body. It was a new position, one they had never tried before. . never thought of before. Ray's body was still sensitive to Fraser's touch and he could feel every inch of Fraser's cock as it was buried deep within his own body.

The strong muscles in Fraser's legs flexed and then relaxed in time and he thrust quickly into, and then slowly withdrew from Ray. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed, his lower lip caught tightly by his teeth as he felt the full measure of pleasure that Ray offered him.

The two slept peacefully in each other's arms. The ghosts who roamed the old hotel smiled upon them indulgently and sought other rooms and other guests. The soft, quiet strains of a mariachi band faded slowly into the night. In his sleep, Fraser curled himself around Ray and, with a soft kiss on Ray's neck he whispered "I love you, Ray. I always will."

. . . . . . . . . .

Back in the bitter cold of early January in Chicago, Barbara moved a little closer to her husband for warmth. Her work on the apartment was complete. She drifted back to sleep hoping that Stanley and Ben were finding San Antonio as enchanting as she and Damian had so many times.