Desperate Remedies Revisited
By Arami

--Hope, New Zealand

Lawrence pushed Fraser through the door, his anger getting the best of him.  Both men stood face to face in the dimly lit warehouse space, the silver buttons on Fraser's purple velvet pants and suspenders glittering in the moonlight that crept through the cracks in the walls and ceiling.  Lawrence was dressed similarly.  His pants were of white cotton, which hugged his lower body quite snuggly.  Fraser's anger, too, was breaking down his resolve, and he wanted to lash out at something, or someone.  And that someone, was Lawrence Hayes.

They quickly came to blows, knocking each other around the small, confined space.  Lawrence's undisputed superior strength might have been enough to ward off any attack from Fraser, but in the blink of an eye, Fraser pulled out a steel, bone-handled knife from his waistband.  He spun around, lashing out at Lawrence and grinned as the blade's edge cut the 'new man' across his right bicep.

Lawrence swung a right hook and clocked Fraser squarely on the jaw, sending him reeling to the floor.  He spit up blood from his now busted lip.  The wily scoundrel turned quickly and jumped back up on his feet.  He was a survivor - had been from a very young age.  But more importantly, he was greedy and wanted those rubies of Dorothea's and wouldn't stop at anything to get them away from Hayes.

The cut on Lawrence's arm bled quite profusely now and he grasped it with his left hand.  Lawrence didn't know who he was angrier with - Dorothea for not trusting him with the whole truth, or Fraser, for all the hurt and pain he'd caused.

"It didn't have to be this way," Lawrence declared, moving to keep away from Fraser's knife, now dripping with his own blood.  "If you'd just left the first time Dorothea asked, none of this would have happened."

Fraser just laughed, his wide grin illuminating the room.  "But then I wouldn't have been able to see the expression on your face when you heard our dear sweet Dorothea throwing herself at me to leave.  Nor would she have upped the ante from a mere stash of misbegotten cash to a wealth of rubies," replied Fraser coyly.  He continued on.  "Rubies, which I do believe, you still have."

Lawrence's expression didn't falter, but inside he was fuming.  He would put a stop to Fraser's machinations and make sure he WAS on the boat to San Francisco.  First, though, he was going to make the weasel pay for what he did, to him at least, Dorothea be damned.

As Fraser struck out at him yet again, Lawrence grabbed his wrist and twisted it around behind Fraser's back, slamming him up against the wall.  Their two bodies were hot and slick against one another.  Lawrence twisted Fraser's wrist harder and harder until he let go of the knife.  Lawrence took the blade and threw the weapon across the room, imbedding it deeply in the wall.

Fraser struggled under the tight grip of Lawrence's powerful arms, to no avail.  His right arm was twisted behind his back in Lawrence's hand.   Lawrence held his left arm across the cunning man's chest as they both were pressed hard against the cool, wet wall.

The action excited both men, though neither one would admit that first.  Lawrence's warm breath tingled at Fraser's ear as Hayes' pulse raced through his own veins.  His voice was low as he spoke, piercing right through Fraser.  "I told you it didn't have to be this way," he said slowly.  Quickly he turned Fraser around; the two men were now face to face, mere inches apart from one another.  The atmosphere was filled with a mixture of salty sea air, sweat, and the smell unique to highly aroused men.

Fraser grinned even as Lawrence's heavily muscled forearm held at his neck.  "I guess Dorothea didn't know you as well as she thought she did," he mocked.  Lawrence growled in anger, just before slamming his full lips down on Fraser's.  The intensity of the move drove Fraser's head back into the wall, but he could care less.  He stopped his struggling to wrap his arms around Lawrence's bronze body.

Lawrence was shocked at Fraser's reaction, but he too, could care less about it.  He drove his tongue deeper and deeper into Fraser's mouth, all the while pressing further and further into the wall.  They both had a sheen of sweat drenching their bodies, and slid against each other.

Lawrence dropped his arm away from Fraser's throat, moving it instead around to grab a handful of his short, curly black hair.  The 'New Man' had a slight height advantage over the other man.  He pulled Fraser slightly up off his feet as their powerful kiss continued.

To Lawrence, Fraser tasted sweet yet still retaining a bit of saltiness.  The sweetness due in some part to the laudanum he was so fond of imbibing.  And to Fraser, Hayes was a mixture of ale, salt and peppermint.  Each man answered the others needy thrust of the tongue with one of their own, sucking greedily on the opposing, invading tongue.

Fraser felt Hayes' powerful hands roam up and down his back; his hands the only barrier between Fraser and the storage room wall.  Lawrence's hands moved lower and lower until they gripped the waistband of the other man's pants and yanked them off with lightening quick motion.  The action sent buttons flying everywhere, but neither man was concerned.  Not to be undone, the darker man, regaining enough of his own senses, just as quickly relieved Hayes of his black leather codpiece and white pants.

Both men fell to the ground in a mass of boots, suspenders, and pants.  They quickly removed the last remnants of their clothing.  Fraser spied his long-forgotten knife still imbedded into the wall just across the room, but before he could make a move towards it, he found himself in Lawrence's overpowering grip.  He tried to break free, but the combination of Hayes' advantage of strength, as well as their sweat-slicked bodies, made that very difficult.

Fraser found himself face down on the wet, cold wooden floor, Lawrence Hayes held him down by the shoulders.  Lawrence lay to Fraser's left side, covering most of the other's body with his own.  The only sounds to be heard were the occasional rat scurrying behind the floorboards, and the two of them gasping for the breath that their starved bodies so desperately needed.  And yet, there was something else their bodies craved as well.  Something more than that breath.

Slowly, one of Lawrence's hands made its way down the length of Fraser's body.  Gently it traced every plane, every line.  He carefully made his way to Fraser's ass.  Lawrence could see no reason to be the gentle, kind lover.  Raw, intense lust filled him and he knew that Fraser was the same way.  Lawrence Hayes pulled Fraser up to his knees, his hands never leaving his shoulder, or his ass.

Without warning or pretense, Lawrence pushed a slick, wet finger deep into Fraser.  "You really should relax," Lawrence told Fraser, but the movements only served to raise his lust all the more.  Circling, probing, one finger joined the other, both moving deeper and deeper, reaching for the spot, that one spot that would cause Fraser to explode.

Fraser was slowly losing his control but he'd be damned if he gave Lawrence Hayes the satisfaction.  He gritted his teeth as the fingers continued to enflame his desires to untold peaks.  Fraser couldn't tell if it was pleasure, pain or a glorious mixture of both.  He couldn't stand it any longer and began pushing back towards Hayes, the need for more pressing him forward.  Suddenly the fingers were removed and Fraser fell forward, his head collapsing on his clenched hands.  Almost whimpering, he begged Hayes not to stop.  He turned his head and looking back to Hayes.  "Don't stop now!"  Fraser's dark eyes were filled with immeasurable need and lust, and he saw that same look mirrored in Hayes'.

Hayes scowled at Fraser.  "Very well.  I am not a man to tarry," he replied.  His dark hair was drenched in sweat and fell across his face.  Hayes grabbed Fraser's hips and in one aching thrust, filled Fraser completely.

Lawrence paused a mere few seconds before falling into a steady, but intense rhythm.  The strokes were long and Fraser took Lawrence in all the way.  Lawrence covered the rest of Fraser's body with his own.  He began nipping at the scoundrel's neck, ear and shoulders.  Fraser's senses were fast becoming overloaded with unbearable stimulation.

Hayes' grip on the other man's hips became tighter as he increased the pace.  The long strokes ended, becoming shorter, faster, and more violently jarring.  Lawrence gritted his teeth, the muscles in his face, neck and chest becoming strained.

Lawrence removed one of his hands from Fraser's hip, only to find it's way to Fraser's hard cock and started mimicking his other punishing pace.  Fraser couldn't stand it much longer.  He screamed out in frustration, wanting Lawrence to finish, as well as reach his own end.

The thrusts became shorter and the pace faster until, with one erratic, thundering thrust, Lawrence came, filling Fraser.  Lawrence roared as he did so, his hand digging painfully into Fraser's hip.  Continuing his manipulation of Fraser's cock, he didn't have to wait long until Fraser, too, came in a fury.  Fraser arched his back, his hands clenched into fists as he covered Lawrence's hand, and his own chest with his sticky, sweet seed.

The two collapsed to the ground in a heap.  Lawrence withdrew from Fraser and lie on his back, while Fraser lay on his side, nearly on his stomach.  Neither man moved for moments, each gasping for breath.  Finally, Lawrence was the first to speak.  "So.  You will.. be.. on that.. boat to San.. Francisco."  It was not a question.  Fraser continued to ready his breathing, and unseen by Lawrence Hayes, he grinned.

The End