FIC: Snow Falling In Chicago [due South]
Aug. 29th, 2010 04:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
imaginethetruthTitle: Snow Falling In Chicago
Author:imaginethetruth (M. Willoughby)
Fandom: due South
Characters/Pairings: Fraser/RayK
Rating/Warnings: R - mild NC17. If slash isn’t your thing you might want to get out of here right about now.
Summary: Ray and Fraser make some interesting discoveries about each other on the slushy scene of the crime. Tea also comes into play.
Disclaimer: All characters to Alliance, blahblahblah. Sue me? I’ll kick you in the head.
Author’s Notes: Believe it or not, this story is actually based off of a dream I had *faints at memory*. It was kind of weird though, because it was about me and Fraser, only I was Ray...which was odd, but totally cool. I really want a dick now. I had way too much fun writing this.
Love comments/feedback :)
Chicago in the winter is fucking miserable – everybody knows that. You know what's even more miserable? Being a cop in the winter in Chicago. Know why? You've gotta be outside all day sometimes, in the shitty, shitty weather, and - rain, snow, or shine - bring 'em in. And let me tell you, that fucking blows.
The worst part (other than the fact that it with the wind it feels like it's about -100) is that although snow falls, it doesn't settle on the ground. No, Chicago specializes in this nasty, sludgy, wet, cold, and completely inexcusable slush. It's not the cool kind that's kinda frozen so you can shape it into really hard snowballs and pelt them at anyone who pisses you off. It's the disgustingly wet kind that seeps into your boots, gets all over the bottom of your pants, and when you're running, splashes you in the fucking face. It's shit.
I got no excuse. I've lived in this city all my life, and I should know better than to expect real and actual snow all white and fluffy on the ground. Still, that doesn't keep me from hoping every year that this winter it might be different. It never is, but I keep praying.
I'm praying now, as I'm chasing this guy through this rich white neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. It's neighborhoods like this that I hate, and right now my mood isn't exactly rosy. My feet are freezing (and wet), my nose and ears feel like they're about to fall off, and I'm pretty sure I'll never be warm again.
The only reason why I'm not falling on my ass right now, is that I'm a practiced citizen of Chicago. I've spent years running through this stuff, and it's like I've got built in traction soles on my feet.
Doesn't change the fact that right now I'm pissed as hell. I mean, it's not that the guy isn't worth the trouble – he's been robbing anyone from rich old ladies, to young homeless boys – it's just that I really wish it was Summer right now, or at least Spring. I mean, really? He chooses December out of all months? That's fucking great, kid.
I'm also a little annoyed cause I'm fairly certain his buddies are close behind me. His armed buddies. And as I run, I can't help thinking, where the hell are you, Fraser? Cause really, now would be a good time for him to show up and pull some of that Mountie crap where he talks criminals into giving him their guns and shit. Now would be an excellent time. But no, of course when I need him most, his red serge is nowhere to be found.
Ah Fraser, I think fondly as I run. I guess I love the guy even though I whine about him all the time. I mean, I know I’ve said it before, but red ships, green ships, there ain't no ships like partnership. And we've got a pretty good one of those, Fraser and I. Quite a good one indeed. He sets em up, and I knock em down. But right now, I seem to be doing all the setting up, and that really isn't cool. That's definitely not buddies.
Suddenly, I hear a splash behind me. Great. Fucking great. I'm being tailed too. The chaser is being chased. FRASER, now would be an excellent time to show up!!!
I don't dare turn around – I know that will equal a nice steel bullet in the head. And I'm good without one, thank you very much.
BANG. I hear a gunshot, and suddenly without any warning, I'm smashed face down onto the sidewalk. I can taste slush in my mouth, and it seeps through my clothes. As I lie there, confused as hell, I realize that something is pinning me down. Something red. I gulp.
“Ray?”
I hold up a hand. “Bad guys?”
“Huey tackled the shooter who fired. I believe Dewey has the other cuffed.”
I nod. “Okay then.” I wriggle onto my back beneath him. His face is just centimeters away from mine, and I gulp again.
“I'm so sorry, Ray,” he is saying, and through the genuine regret in his voice, I can hear an odd note. “It was the only way I could -” he pauses, and then in an entirely different voice; “Are you alright?”
But I don't have time to form an answer, because suddenly his gloves are off, and he's tracing my face with his fingers – tenderly and...sweet. And though I'm completely petrified, his warm hands feel really good on my frozen skin. His blue eyes ask me an unspoken question, and holy fuck...they're so...blue.
Suddenly he's leaning in, and I'm doing absolutely nothing to stop him. But...his lips never touch mine. Instead they settle on my cheek – warm, moist, and so, so, sweet.
All around us, it is snowing.
Wordlessly, I shove him off, and for a moment, he looks utterly undone and dejected. Then he blinks, looks up at me, and nods.
This destroys me. Without thinking about it, I leap on top of him – shoving him down onto the pavement. His eyes are wide and confused as I wrap my legs around him, straddling his waist. As I lean forward, he turns his head to the side.
“No, Ray,” he says softly, and this time I can definitely hear the odd note. It's defeat.
“No?” I whisper, nuzzling his neck. He smells like wool and all that crap, but there’s something else. Cedar, pine, snow. North.
“There's a time and a place for such a...conversation, and it's not here.”
Wordlessly, I place my hand on his leg, sliding it up and down his thigh.
His eyes widen. “Ray, please, I don't know if I – I can't -”
“You sure?” I say dubiously.
“Not at all, but here outside in the dead of winter in the middle of a residential area does not seem like a very rational idea to me, and - ”
“Fuck the residents.”
“-I don't think your motives are quite-”
I snort. “My motives, Fraser, are...extremely fucked up.”
“That's exactly what I'm trying to say,” his eyes are wide and desperate. “Please stop.”
I look down at him. Snow falls, landing white and powdery on his dark eyelashes, contrasting with the sheer and utter blue of his eyes. Those eyes that are so imploring and so pleading. Those eyes which look like those of a baby seal caught in a trap.
Those eyes which I find impossible to refuse.
I sigh and then nod.
“We will discuss this later, Ray. Right now I expect Lieutenant Welsh wants us back at the station.”
I nod wearily. “Lets go.”
We make our statements, and before I know it, Fraser and I are sitting in the GTO – wet, slushy, and awkward.
“Ray, you just missed the turn.”
“Yeah I know.”
He looks at me curiously. “Aren't you taking me back to the Consulate.”
I sigh, and look at him. “No Fraser, I'm not taking you back to the God damn Consulate. You're coming back to my place, and we're having a good long talk about...this.”
“Ah,” he does that nervous cough thing that he always does when he feels awkward. “My clothes though? They're extremely...well, wet.”
I roll my eyes. “Really? I'm sure I have something that will fit you. We're almost the same height, after all.”
“Ah, alright then. If I can call Turnbull from your phone and instruct him to feed Diefenbaker for me, then that should be fine.”
“You can do that, Fraser.”
“Very well then.”
“We're here, you can get out now.”
“Ah...understood.”
We awkwardly walk up to my apartment, and it seems to take far longer than it normally does to open the door.
When we're finally inside, we sort of stand awkwardly in the entrance for a moment, before I say quickly: “You go call Turnbull, I'll find us clothes.”
He nods, and retreats into the kitchen.
I meanwhile take a deep breath, and go into the bedroom.
I pull open a few drawers of my beat up dresser, and frown. The options are very limited, and to be quite frank, I can’t quite imagine Fraser in a pair of raggedy U of I sweatpants. Instead, I reach in and pull out that pair of unworn jeans that Stella bought me a few years ago. I snort. She’d only bought them because they were designer and she hated my usual choice of denim. Too worn out and faded, she used to say.
I sigh as I look at the old new jeans. They look pretty normal - the only reason why I didn’t ever wear them was because they were a few sizes too big, and I was kind of put out that Stella didn’t like my normal jeans. Still, I figure they’ll probably fit Fraser since although he’s just a hair taller than me, he’s just kinda bigger all around. I toss them over onto the bed along with a plain white T-Shirt. They are quickly joined by another (thoroughly worn out, so fuck you) pair of jeans, and a Bulls shirt. That ought to do it.
As I’m walking back out into the kitchen, I catch sight of my reflection. I shake my head in exasperation. My hair looks like I tried to dye it brown with mud, and my clothes are stained with slush. That’s thanks to Fraser crushing me into the pavement, I guess.
Woah, WRONG thing to think about...
...But I can’t stop. I close my eyes, willing my mental images to fuck off please, and suddenly I become hyper aware of the fact that Fraser is just a room away.
“That’s enough of you,” I say firmly, glancing downwards. “Behave yourself, yeah?”
“Ray?”
Quickly I look up.
Fraser’s standing a few feet away from me, and he looks slightly confused. I guess anyone would be if they just saw someone having a conference with their dick.
“Uh,” I say rather stupidly. “If you’re done using the phone, do you wanna shower? I can make some tea or whatever.”
Fraser nods. “Yes, I would appreciate a shower, Ray.”
“Okay, I set out some clothes on the bed for you. There’s a white shirt and some old jeans. Well, they look new.”
He smiles, but it’s a nervous smile, and I notice that. “Thank you, Ray.”
I nod, and he leaves.
I rummage around in the cabinets and finally find some old green tea that Stella used to drink. I took it with me after I left, just in case she ever came by. Pathetic, really.
As I put a bag into an old chipped mug, I frown. It feels kind of weird to be giving Fraser Stella’s tea. Kinda wrong. I shake my head in exasperation, and put the water on. Get a grip.
The sound of running water in the other room stops. Huh, that’s funny. I hadn’t even noticed that it was there until it wasn’t. Fraser must have showered in less than five minutes. I roll my eyes. Of course.
The kettle whistles and I pour the water, leaving no room for sugar. Fraser doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d put sugar in his tea.
“Ray?”
I turn around almost too quickly.
Fraser’s wearing my clothes. I hold back a groan. “Yeah?”
He looks like he’s about to say something else, but then he simply says with a weak smile, “Thank you for the tea.”
I shrug. “No problem.”
He looks at me.
I look at him.
“I should shower too,” I mumble. And then I brush past him and hurry into the bathroom.
I had planned on taking a hot shower, but the warmth of the water is doing nothing to chill me out. Desperately, I turn up the cold tap, and stand shivering underneath the sharp spray as I watch the dirt and mud role off of my body.
I get out, and run some gel through my hair before wrapping a towel around my waist and dressing in my bedroom.
When I come back out to the kitchen, he is leaning against the fridge with his teacup in his hand.
“Fraser?”
He looks up from the inside of the cup.
“You wanna go sit or something?”
He nods and follows me into the living room. I sit down on one side of the couch, making it clear that he is welcome to join me. However, he either doesn’t take the hint or doesn’t want to sit next to me, because he settles onto the edge of the chair next to the couch.
“This is excellent tea,” Fraser says quietly, taking a sip.
“Stella’s. She hated Lipton - always went for the good stuff.”
“It’s not just the brand,” Fraser says slowly, tracing the rim of the cup. “But the method in which one makes the tea.”
“What do you mean?”
“Most people don’t realize it, but there is an art to making the perfect cup. You have to boil it for the perfect amount of time, then let it steep until it’s flavorful but not bitter. Timing is everything.” He looks up at me and I gulp.
“Yeah that seems to be the case for a lot of things.” I mumble, looking down at my hands which are twining together in my lap.
“You and I,” Fraser says thoughtfully. “We seem to usually have pretty good timing for example, don’t we? We work together like a well-oiled machine. A duet. A partnership. We seem to have a good grasp of “when”.”
I nod, and he continues.
“But when it comes to things outside of the parameters of work, well, that’s where we seem to lose our sense of rhythm and pace.”
“Like today,” I say quietly.
“Like today.”
“What was that?” I mumble. “Earlier today in the snow.”
Fraser looks thoughtful. “My guess is as good as any.”
“I’d like to know what you think.”
“Well,” he puts down his tea cup. “I suppose it was the accumulation of far too much tension over an extended period of time. The breaking point, so to speak.”
“How long?” I say quietly, looking up at him.
His answering gaze is steady and unwavering. “Since the first day I met you. When you stepped in front of Greta Garbo’s gun.”
“I was wearing a vest, Fraser.”
“The gesture was still very much appreciated.”
I smile in spite of it all. “Really glad I did now.”
He grins too, but it’s quickly replaced by something much more intense. “And you?”
“Dunno,” I say dully. “Realized it today when you smashed me into the ground, but I think it’s been there longer than that. I can’t pinpoint any particular day or moment.”
He nods, folding his hands beneath his chin. “What do you propose we do?”
I sigh, shrugging. “No idea. I kinda want to salvage whatever’s left of this partnership...this friendship.”
He nods slowly. “As do I, Ray.”
“So it’s probably not a good idea to.....”
“Definitely not.”
“Right.”
We sit there for a moment in complete and utter silence. He is tense in the arm chair - I can feel it coming off of him in waves. I bet I’m in a similar state over here.
“Fraser?” I say finally, my voice cracking slightly.
He looks up far too quickly. “Yes Ray?”
“This whole “do nothing” thing really isn’t working for me.”
He sighs. “Me neither, I’m afraid.”
“What now?”
He blinks. “Well, I suppose we could consider our options.”
I nod, that sounds reasonable. “Alright. You first.”
His tongue darts out and wets his lips as it always does when he’s nervous. I watch, mesmerized.
“Well, I suppose we could pretend that nothing ever happened and go on as we have.”
I sigh at the thought. “I don’t think I can do that, Fraser.”
He shakes his head slowly, his blue eyes level with mine. “No. I don’t suppose I could either.”
“What are the other options?”
“Acknowledge what occurred earlier today and leave it in the past, or...dissolve our partnership,” he sighs. “Personally, I would rather avoid the latter.”
“Me too,” I nod vigorously. At this point I can’t even imagine my life without Fraser. “I guess this means we just have to accept it for what it is and then move on?”
“Not necessarily,” he says slowly. His eyes are becoming oddly bright. “There is...one other option.”
I raise my eyebrows, leaning back against the couch.
“It may seem...slightly outlandish,” he continues quickly. “Maybe even mad, but...well, I don’t even know if you would even - “
My breath catches in my throat. “Do you mean --”
He nods.
My eyes widen. “Well that’s...that’s...”
“Merely a suggestion,” he says quickly. “Entirely up to you.”
“What exactly are you suggesting?” I ask, panicking for the first time. Because what if I’ve got it all wrong? What if we’re on entirely different pages. What if -
He blushes.
“Oh,” my eyes are probably about as wide as dinner plates. “That’s kinda what I figured, but...”
“It is, I admit, a slightly unbalanced idea...”
“Totally unbalanced.”
“But maybe,” he pauses, glancing at me almost fearfully. “Well, I don’t even know if you would even entertain such an idea.”
I snort. “Oh believe me Fraser, I’m not the issue here.”
He blushes again. “So you would consider...”
“I think I’ve considered it quite a few times,” I say softly, looking up at him. “I’m just kinda bad at catching on.”
He looks up at me, almost transfixed. “Ray.”
“What?” I choke out.
“This changes...a lot.”
“Yeah?”
He nods, getting up.
I stand up too.
“So I’m gathering that my proposal wasn’t entirely ill received,” he says slowly, taking a step closer.
I shake my head. “No.”
He sighs. “So what do we do?”
I look at him. His eyes are still oddly bright, as if they’re burning. His lips are slightly parted and they look so soft and pink. Huh, I’d never noticed that. Well...maybe a few times, but that’s besides the point. I find myself really wanting to touch them, so I do.
“Ray,” he says almost warningly, his eyes closing as my finger makes contact with his lips.
“Yeah?”
He doesn’t answer, but I feel the tip of his tongue dart out to touch my finger.
“Fraser?”
“Ray.”
“I’m fucking terrified.”
His eyes flutter open, and they are so so so fucking blue. “As am I, Ray.”
I kiss him.
As my lips touch his, something builds up inside of me. I always used to think that it was bullshit when people would talk about how fireworks would erupt behind your eyes when you kissed someone and all that kind of shit. Well...I think I may have been wrong. My eyes close, and behind them I can see snow falling.
Fraser’s lips are impossibly soft against mine, moving languidly and smooth. His tongue probes between my lips, and with a loud exhalation I let him in.
That thing that’s been building up - it shatters as Fraser’s tongue pushes into my mouth. With a loud - and maybe under other circumstances slightly embarrassing - groan, I’m pushing back into him, and my hands are everywhere - on the back of his neck, his face, his hair, his broad shoulders...and I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.
With a husky growl, Fraser pushes me down onto the couch and we’re lying there half on half off, and I can’t help but think that this is the hottest thing that’s happened to me in a while.
“Holy fuck,” I say hoarsely through his lips.
“Mmmmm,” he breathes, tearing his mouth away from mine to do some serious exploration of my neck.
I tilt my head back until it’s pressing into the couch. “Oh God, that’s fucking great.”
His tongue traces patterns into the exposed skin of my throat, and each spot he touches is on fire.
“Love you,” I say softly, and he freezes leaving me panicking because I may have said entirely the wrong thing without even realizing it.
I look up at him, panic stricken. A look of shock is frozen on his face - a lock of hair falling into his eyes, and his lips slightly parted, shiny, and swollen.
And then suddenly those lips are back on mine and he’s kissing the fucking life out of me. Not like I mind.
“Do you really mean that?” he asks almost desperately, his teeth doing wicked things to my lower lip.
“Oh yeah,” I say, getting my hands under his shirt. “Yeah I think I do.”
“Ray,” he sighs into my mouth. “Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray.”
And then he’s breathing a whole new kind of life into me.
Buddy breathing my ass, I think.
“Make love to me?”
I almost don’t hear him say it, I’m so caught up in how his mouth tastes. Like fresh new snow and green tea......
Wait, what?
I must have said it out loud, because his lips leave mine. “Make love to me, Ray. If you want to.”
I look up at him into the deep blue eyes. And I nod.
He smiles.
I smile back.
As soon as we’re in the bedroom, I get Fraser out of the borrowed clothes pretty damn quick. Borrowed. My clothes. Hmm, I wonder why I find that so appealing. Maybe just because it’s so familiar, you know?
“Ray.”
“Fraser.”
“I’m going to have to ask you to remove your tongue from my mouth so I can better take off your clothes.”
It sounds so technical that I almost laugh, and when I do remove my tongue from his mouth, I see that he’s grinning too.
“You’ve got about three seconds.”
His eyes twinkle as he quickly gets to work.
Wow....damn those eyes.
He peels off my clothes in record time, and I push him back onto the bed. For a moment, I just look at him - taking in the sight of his creamy, nearly hairless body spread out on my sheets. He’s slightly flushed in places and his nipples stand out dusky and hard against his chest. His eyes are wide, smoky, and bright, and his hair is mussed. I’ve never seen him look so beautiful.
“What is it?” he asks, flushing crimson.
I bite my lip quickly. “Nothing, it’s just...”
“What is it, Ray?”
“You’re kind of beautiful, Fraser.” And fuck, now I’m blushing too.
His eyes get even darker, and he pulls my face down to his, kissing me in a way that makes my entire body go limp against his.
“If that’s the kind of reaction you’re gonna have, I’m going to compliment you more often,” I say breathlessly when he finally lets me breathe.
He laughs, deep and husky. “Have you wanted to compliment me in the past?”
“Only every fucking day of my life.”
“Hmm,” he says with a smile as he flips me over so he’s hovering above me. “What would you have said?”
“Fraser, I like your hat,” I say slightly stupidly as his mouth roams over my chest, stopping at my nipples which are hard and aching. “Even if it’s the only form of head gear less conspicuous than a sombrero.”
He chuckles, and his tongue circles my nipple. “What else?”
“Fraser,” I whisper. “You look good in red. Even though your uniform makes you look a bit like a stop sign.”
“And?” he asks softly, sliding down between my legs. His nose brushes my hip.
“Fraser, I like...” I shudder beneath him, my voice choked and unsteady. “I like...you.”
His mouth closes around me, and it’s all I can do not to rocket up into his mouth. Desperately I grasp the edges of the mattress and pray to God that I can hold on for a little bit longer.
“Shit Fraser,” I groan as his tongue does something that should be illegal in all fifty states AND Canada.
He lets a deep low growl rip from the back of his throat, and that’s it, I’m thrown over the edge.
I see stars as I come.
For a long moment we just sit there together, breathing heavily. He grasps my thighs, resting his forehead upon my hip.
“Fraser,” I whisper softly.
“Ray.”
“What the hell are we doing?”
He slithers up to kiss me, and this is less about sex and more about love. I can feel that.
“We, Ray,” he says softly into my mouth. “Are doing what we should have done very, very a long time ago.”
His hand twines with mine, and that...well that may be more intimate than anything else we’ve done tonight.
“Because,” he continues. “Although some people may consider this to be very, very wrong-”
“Fuck them.”
His lip twitches. “Yes precisely, but as I was saying, although this may violate some serious moral values of certain parties in our established countries...well, pretending what was so obviously there wasn’t there wouldn’t do anything to improve the situation...in all it’s moral bankruptcy. I’m babbling, I’m afraid.”
“Fraser,” I say softly. “Do you have a problem with this? With what we’re doing?”
“No,” he answers quietly. “If my feelings towards you are reciprocated, then there is no obstacle.”
“Then why don’t you shut the fuck up,” I say teasingly. “And stop rambling.”
He does.
This time I’m the one in control. I roll him over beneath me, and nudge his legs apart.
“Ray,” he says softly, closing his eyes. “You don’t have to...”
“I want to,” I say with an impish smile. “Thanks to you, I just had one of the most mind blowing, heh, experiences of my life. It is only polite that I return the favor, although I dunno if it’ll be nearly as good as what you did a few minutes ago.”
He groans, covering his face with one hand. “God give me strength.”
I laugh, and then I lower my face to his groin.
He tastes like...like...well, there’s no word for it. I guess he just tastes like Fraser. He tastes like Fraser and salt and sweat and...something else. I can’t quite put my finger on it.
Whatever it is, I like it.
I start slow and a little tame - I’ve never done this before and I really don’t want to screw it up.
He moans, and his hands tangle in my hair.
Okay, I guess I’m not screwing it up.
“Ray?”
I look up.
His eyes are half open, and his voice is hoarse when he says: “You have no idea how incandescent you look right now.”
I really want to kiss him right now, but there are other things that need...attending to.
I run my tongue around him, taking him as deeply as I can without choking. As I curve my hand around the base of him and add a tiny bit of tooth to what my tongue is doing, he shudders and comes deep into my throat.
I don’t even choke.
He reaches blindly for my hand, and I take it, slithering up to lie beside him.
He kisses me, intoxicating, slow, and deep. “Thank you.”
“Any time,” I say hoarsely.
His eyes widen, and then he smiles. “Really?”
I nod.
“I had hoped you would say something like that.”
“That I would suck your dick whenever you wanted or that I didn’t want this to just be a one time thing?”
He laughs. “Both, actually. But I was thinking more along the lines of the latter.”
“Good,” I say softly, resting my head on his shoulder. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“As am I.”
“This might get a little tough at work though.”
His eyebrows furrow. “Why do you say so?”
“It’s going to be extremely hard to keep from jumping you in the middle of the bull-pen after what I’ve seen you do tonight.”
He blushes, lowering his eyes. “Oh.”
“But I’ll make an effort. If it means...this.”
“Sex?” he says, raising an eyebrow.
“Love,” I smile. “Love, Fraser.”
He looks up at me from beneath dark lashes. “I love you, Ray.”
I brush his cheek with my finger gently.
“I always have, you know.”
I nod. All stretched out on the bed beside me, I can almost believe him.
“And not just because I’ve always found you exceedingly attractive,” he continues thoughtfully.
I blush. “I am not exceedingly attractive, Fraser.”
“But that’s what makes you so attractive, Ray,” he says with a smile. “The fact that you don’t believe it although it’s so undeniably true.”
“You weren’t lying in the crypt?”
He shakes his head, still smiling. “No.”
“Huh. I’m not sure when being scrawny with experimental hair started being considered attractive, but it’s nice that you think so.”
He sighs. “Ray. You aren’t scrawny, you’re lean and muscled. You’re body is wiry and elegant, something which I admire very greatly. And I like your hair. It has character.”
“You like my hair?” I am probably grinning like the biggest dork right now.
“Very much,” he says softly, burying his nose in it.
“I like you.”
He laughs. “I can still scarcely believe it.”
“Am I dreaming?” I wonder.
“As unbelievable as it may sound, I think you are in fact awake.”
I yawn and he laughs.
“Although you probably shouldn’t be.”
“Wanna sleep a while?” I ask, slinging an arm across his chest and looking up at him willfully.
He grins. “That sounds...sublime.”
“Alright, get under.”
We awkwardly get under the sheets, and I turn off the light.
He is warm against me, and I lie there with my head against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
“Fraser?”
“What is it Ray?”
“What if when I wake up you’re gone and this was all just a dream?”
I don’t know how, but I hear him smiling even in the dark.
“Would you like me to pinch you?”
“Never mind.”
He laughs. “I’ll still be here in the morning when you wake up.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Good,” I say softly, and I drift off with his arms around me.
When I wake up, it’s dark and I can’t even see my hand in front of me. The first thing I notice is the fact that I’m stark naked. In the winter. The second thing I notice is that I’m freakishly warm which makes even less sense. And last but not least (and probably most important) I become aware of the fact that I’m nice and wrapped up in a mass of warm skin.
What...the...
And then it suddenly comes back to me.
Holy fuck I wasn’t dreaming.
“Fraser?” I whisper into the dark.
I hear a noncommittal “Mmmm” and suddenly the arms around my chest tighten.
I grin like an idiot.
“You awake?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Let me up real quick, I gotta check something.”
“No.”
I try not to laugh as I press my lips quickly to his shoulder. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
A loud sigh blows out against my neck, but the arms loosen and I ease myself out of bed.
Holy shit it’s cold.
I feel around in the dark until I find my jeans in a messy heap on the floor. I pull them on, and it’s a good fucking thing that I know my way around this place so well because I’m as blind as a bat in this light...er lack of light.
Carefully I walk over to the windows and pull back one of the dark drapes before blinking rapidly. It’s bright as hell out there; everything is completely white except for the buildings and the pink and orange streaked sky. Snow falls gently.
It looks like some kind of fucking Christmas card out there.
I grin at the sight of the soft snowy carpet dusting the ground. I haven’t seen snow like this since forever.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I nearly jump out of my skin. “Jesus Fraser, you scared the shit out of me!”
He grins at me, and my heart flips over a bit. “Sorry.”
“S’okay,” I say. And it is, because in this light he looks fucking beautiful. His creamy skin is practically glowing and his blue eyes are so sharp and clear. God, I still can’t believe I -
Hold that thought. Actually, hold any thoughts I had, because he’s standing behind me now, wrapping his arms around my bare waist, and fuck that feels good.
“What is it, Ray?”
“You,” I say softly, my hands covering his. “The snow. This.”
He doesn’t answer, but his lips press into the spot where my neck and shoulder meet and I shiver in response.
“Fraser...”
“Ray.”
“I take it this means you have no regrets.”
“Mmm,” he exhales warm and against my skin. “I can’t seem to come up with any right now, no.”
“Freak,” I say fondly.
“Your freak.”
My heart speeds up. I can feel it all over my body so I bet he can too.
“What do you want to do today?” he asks, his nose drifting up and down my neck.
“Uh,” I say slightly stupidly. “I got a few ideas.”
“We’re in agreement then.”
“How about a good old fashioned snow ball fight?”
“Hmmm,” he says with an almost wicked smile. “Maybe later. Right now I have a few other ideas.” His fingers move down my torso and weave into my belt loops.
Fraser’s talking dirty to me. Who ever knew?
“I like the way you think,” I manage.
“I like you,” he says quietly, unzipping my fly. “I love you, actually.”
“You know I feel the same way about you.”
“It still feels,” he turns me around and kisses me gently. “Great to hear you say it.”
“In that case,” I grin, sucking on his lower lip, my hands weaving into his hair. “Love you too.”
“Ray,” he whispers into my mouth. “Ray, Ray, Ray.”
“Lets go back to bed.”
“Say no more.”
We fall back into a mass of blankets, and as I shuck my jeans back off onto the floor, I think that maybe our timing can suck every now and then. Maybe we’re not always spot on. But the fact is, Fraser and I may be totally different people but we’ve finally found some really common ground. We’re a fucking duet. In more ways than one.
But then I remember that I have some more important things to attend to.
Author:
imaginethetruth (M. Willoughby) Fandom: due South
Characters/Pairings: Fraser/RayK
Rating/Warnings: R - mild NC17. If slash isn’t your thing you might want to get out of here right about now.
Summary: Ray and Fraser make some interesting discoveries about each other on the slushy scene of the crime. Tea also comes into play.
Disclaimer: All characters to Alliance, blahblahblah. Sue me? I’ll kick you in the head.
Author’s Notes: Believe it or not, this story is actually based off of a dream I had *faints at memory*. It was kind of weird though, because it was about me and Fraser, only I was Ray...which was odd, but totally cool. I really want a dick now. I had way too much fun writing this.
Love comments/feedback :)
Chicago in the winter is fucking miserable – everybody knows that. You know what's even more miserable? Being a cop in the winter in Chicago. Know why? You've gotta be outside all day sometimes, in the shitty, shitty weather, and - rain, snow, or shine - bring 'em in. And let me tell you, that fucking blows.
The worst part (other than the fact that it with the wind it feels like it's about -100) is that although snow falls, it doesn't settle on the ground. No, Chicago specializes in this nasty, sludgy, wet, cold, and completely inexcusable slush. It's not the cool kind that's kinda frozen so you can shape it into really hard snowballs and pelt them at anyone who pisses you off. It's the disgustingly wet kind that seeps into your boots, gets all over the bottom of your pants, and when you're running, splashes you in the fucking face. It's shit.
I got no excuse. I've lived in this city all my life, and I should know better than to expect real and actual snow all white and fluffy on the ground. Still, that doesn't keep me from hoping every year that this winter it might be different. It never is, but I keep praying.
I'm praying now, as I'm chasing this guy through this rich white neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. It's neighborhoods like this that I hate, and right now my mood isn't exactly rosy. My feet are freezing (and wet), my nose and ears feel like they're about to fall off, and I'm pretty sure I'll never be warm again.
The only reason why I'm not falling on my ass right now, is that I'm a practiced citizen of Chicago. I've spent years running through this stuff, and it's like I've got built in traction soles on my feet.
Doesn't change the fact that right now I'm pissed as hell. I mean, it's not that the guy isn't worth the trouble – he's been robbing anyone from rich old ladies, to young homeless boys – it's just that I really wish it was Summer right now, or at least Spring. I mean, really? He chooses December out of all months? That's fucking great, kid.
I'm also a little annoyed cause I'm fairly certain his buddies are close behind me. His armed buddies. And as I run, I can't help thinking, where the hell are you, Fraser? Cause really, now would be a good time for him to show up and pull some of that Mountie crap where he talks criminals into giving him their guns and shit. Now would be an excellent time. But no, of course when I need him most, his red serge is nowhere to be found.
Ah Fraser, I think fondly as I run. I guess I love the guy even though I whine about him all the time. I mean, I know I’ve said it before, but red ships, green ships, there ain't no ships like partnership. And we've got a pretty good one of those, Fraser and I. Quite a good one indeed. He sets em up, and I knock em down. But right now, I seem to be doing all the setting up, and that really isn't cool. That's definitely not buddies.
Suddenly, I hear a splash behind me. Great. Fucking great. I'm being tailed too. The chaser is being chased. FRASER, now would be an excellent time to show up!!!
I don't dare turn around – I know that will equal a nice steel bullet in the head. And I'm good without one, thank you very much.
BANG. I hear a gunshot, and suddenly without any warning, I'm smashed face down onto the sidewalk. I can taste slush in my mouth, and it seeps through my clothes. As I lie there, confused as hell, I realize that something is pinning me down. Something red. I gulp.
“Ray?”
I hold up a hand. “Bad guys?”
“Huey tackled the shooter who fired. I believe Dewey has the other cuffed.”
I nod. “Okay then.” I wriggle onto my back beneath him. His face is just centimeters away from mine, and I gulp again.
“I'm so sorry, Ray,” he is saying, and through the genuine regret in his voice, I can hear an odd note. “It was the only way I could -” he pauses, and then in an entirely different voice; “Are you alright?”
But I don't have time to form an answer, because suddenly his gloves are off, and he's tracing my face with his fingers – tenderly and...sweet. And though I'm completely petrified, his warm hands feel really good on my frozen skin. His blue eyes ask me an unspoken question, and holy fuck...they're so...blue.
Suddenly he's leaning in, and I'm doing absolutely nothing to stop him. But...his lips never touch mine. Instead they settle on my cheek – warm, moist, and so, so, sweet.
All around us, it is snowing.
Wordlessly, I shove him off, and for a moment, he looks utterly undone and dejected. Then he blinks, looks up at me, and nods.
This destroys me. Without thinking about it, I leap on top of him – shoving him down onto the pavement. His eyes are wide and confused as I wrap my legs around him, straddling his waist. As I lean forward, he turns his head to the side.
“No, Ray,” he says softly, and this time I can definitely hear the odd note. It's defeat.
“No?” I whisper, nuzzling his neck. He smells like wool and all that crap, but there’s something else. Cedar, pine, snow. North.
“There's a time and a place for such a...conversation, and it's not here.”
Wordlessly, I place my hand on his leg, sliding it up and down his thigh.
His eyes widen. “Ray, please, I don't know if I – I can't -”
“You sure?” I say dubiously.
“Not at all, but here outside in the dead of winter in the middle of a residential area does not seem like a very rational idea to me, and - ”
“Fuck the residents.”
“-I don't think your motives are quite-”
I snort. “My motives, Fraser, are...extremely fucked up.”
“That's exactly what I'm trying to say,” his eyes are wide and desperate. “Please stop.”
I look down at him. Snow falls, landing white and powdery on his dark eyelashes, contrasting with the sheer and utter blue of his eyes. Those eyes that are so imploring and so pleading. Those eyes which look like those of a baby seal caught in a trap.
Those eyes which I find impossible to refuse.
I sigh and then nod.
“We will discuss this later, Ray. Right now I expect Lieutenant Welsh wants us back at the station.”
I nod wearily. “Lets go.”
*****************
We make our statements, and before I know it, Fraser and I are sitting in the GTO – wet, slushy, and awkward.
“Ray, you just missed the turn.”
“Yeah I know.”
He looks at me curiously. “Aren't you taking me back to the Consulate.”
I sigh, and look at him. “No Fraser, I'm not taking you back to the God damn Consulate. You're coming back to my place, and we're having a good long talk about...this.”
“Ah,” he does that nervous cough thing that he always does when he feels awkward. “My clothes though? They're extremely...well, wet.”
I roll my eyes. “Really? I'm sure I have something that will fit you. We're almost the same height, after all.”
“Ah, alright then. If I can call Turnbull from your phone and instruct him to feed Diefenbaker for me, then that should be fine.”
“You can do that, Fraser.”
“Very well then.”
“We're here, you can get out now.”
“Ah...understood.”
We awkwardly walk up to my apartment, and it seems to take far longer than it normally does to open the door.
When we're finally inside, we sort of stand awkwardly in the entrance for a moment, before I say quickly: “You go call Turnbull, I'll find us clothes.”
He nods, and retreats into the kitchen.
I meanwhile take a deep breath, and go into the bedroom.
I pull open a few drawers of my beat up dresser, and frown. The options are very limited, and to be quite frank, I can’t quite imagine Fraser in a pair of raggedy U of I sweatpants. Instead, I reach in and pull out that pair of unworn jeans that Stella bought me a few years ago. I snort. She’d only bought them because they were designer and she hated my usual choice of denim. Too worn out and faded, she used to say.
I sigh as I look at the old new jeans. They look pretty normal - the only reason why I didn’t ever wear them was because they were a few sizes too big, and I was kind of put out that Stella didn’t like my normal jeans. Still, I figure they’ll probably fit Fraser since although he’s just a hair taller than me, he’s just kinda bigger all around. I toss them over onto the bed along with a plain white T-Shirt. They are quickly joined by another (thoroughly worn out, so fuck you) pair of jeans, and a Bulls shirt. That ought to do it.
As I’m walking back out into the kitchen, I catch sight of my reflection. I shake my head in exasperation. My hair looks like I tried to dye it brown with mud, and my clothes are stained with slush. That’s thanks to Fraser crushing me into the pavement, I guess.
Woah, WRONG thing to think about...
...But I can’t stop. I close my eyes, willing my mental images to fuck off please, and suddenly I become hyper aware of the fact that Fraser is just a room away.
“That’s enough of you,” I say firmly, glancing downwards. “Behave yourself, yeah?”
“Ray?”
Quickly I look up.
Fraser’s standing a few feet away from me, and he looks slightly confused. I guess anyone would be if they just saw someone having a conference with their dick.
“Uh,” I say rather stupidly. “If you’re done using the phone, do you wanna shower? I can make some tea or whatever.”
Fraser nods. “Yes, I would appreciate a shower, Ray.”
“Okay, I set out some clothes on the bed for you. There’s a white shirt and some old jeans. Well, they look new.”
He smiles, but it’s a nervous smile, and I notice that. “Thank you, Ray.”
I nod, and he leaves.
I rummage around in the cabinets and finally find some old green tea that Stella used to drink. I took it with me after I left, just in case she ever came by. Pathetic, really.
As I put a bag into an old chipped mug, I frown. It feels kind of weird to be giving Fraser Stella’s tea. Kinda wrong. I shake my head in exasperation, and put the water on. Get a grip.
The sound of running water in the other room stops. Huh, that’s funny. I hadn’t even noticed that it was there until it wasn’t. Fraser must have showered in less than five minutes. I roll my eyes. Of course.
The kettle whistles and I pour the water, leaving no room for sugar. Fraser doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d put sugar in his tea.
“Ray?”
I turn around almost too quickly.
Fraser’s wearing my clothes. I hold back a groan. “Yeah?”
He looks like he’s about to say something else, but then he simply says with a weak smile, “Thank you for the tea.”
I shrug. “No problem.”
He looks at me.
I look at him.
“I should shower too,” I mumble. And then I brush past him and hurry into the bathroom.
*******************
I had planned on taking a hot shower, but the warmth of the water is doing nothing to chill me out. Desperately, I turn up the cold tap, and stand shivering underneath the sharp spray as I watch the dirt and mud role off of my body.
I get out, and run some gel through my hair before wrapping a towel around my waist and dressing in my bedroom.
When I come back out to the kitchen, he is leaning against the fridge with his teacup in his hand.
“Fraser?”
He looks up from the inside of the cup.
“You wanna go sit or something?”
He nods and follows me into the living room. I sit down on one side of the couch, making it clear that he is welcome to join me. However, he either doesn’t take the hint or doesn’t want to sit next to me, because he settles onto the edge of the chair next to the couch.
“This is excellent tea,” Fraser says quietly, taking a sip.
“Stella’s. She hated Lipton - always went for the good stuff.”
“It’s not just the brand,” Fraser says slowly, tracing the rim of the cup. “But the method in which one makes the tea.”
“What do you mean?”
“Most people don’t realize it, but there is an art to making the perfect cup. You have to boil it for the perfect amount of time, then let it steep until it’s flavorful but not bitter. Timing is everything.” He looks up at me and I gulp.
“Yeah that seems to be the case for a lot of things.” I mumble, looking down at my hands which are twining together in my lap.
“You and I,” Fraser says thoughtfully. “We seem to usually have pretty good timing for example, don’t we? We work together like a well-oiled machine. A duet. A partnership. We seem to have a good grasp of “when”.”
I nod, and he continues.
“But when it comes to things outside of the parameters of work, well, that’s where we seem to lose our sense of rhythm and pace.”
“Like today,” I say quietly.
“Like today.”
“What was that?” I mumble. “Earlier today in the snow.”
Fraser looks thoughtful. “My guess is as good as any.”
“I’d like to know what you think.”
“Well,” he puts down his tea cup. “I suppose it was the accumulation of far too much tension over an extended period of time. The breaking point, so to speak.”
“How long?” I say quietly, looking up at him.
His answering gaze is steady and unwavering. “Since the first day I met you. When you stepped in front of Greta Garbo’s gun.”
“I was wearing a vest, Fraser.”
“The gesture was still very much appreciated.”
I smile in spite of it all. “Really glad I did now.”
He grins too, but it’s quickly replaced by something much more intense. “And you?”
“Dunno,” I say dully. “Realized it today when you smashed me into the ground, but I think it’s been there longer than that. I can’t pinpoint any particular day or moment.”
He nods, folding his hands beneath his chin. “What do you propose we do?”
I sigh, shrugging. “No idea. I kinda want to salvage whatever’s left of this partnership...this friendship.”
He nods slowly. “As do I, Ray.”
“So it’s probably not a good idea to.....”
“Definitely not.”
“Right.”
We sit there for a moment in complete and utter silence. He is tense in the arm chair - I can feel it coming off of him in waves. I bet I’m in a similar state over here.
“Fraser?” I say finally, my voice cracking slightly.
He looks up far too quickly. “Yes Ray?”
“This whole “do nothing” thing really isn’t working for me.”
He sighs. “Me neither, I’m afraid.”
“What now?”
He blinks. “Well, I suppose we could consider our options.”
I nod, that sounds reasonable. “Alright. You first.”
His tongue darts out and wets his lips as it always does when he’s nervous. I watch, mesmerized.
“Well, I suppose we could pretend that nothing ever happened and go on as we have.”
I sigh at the thought. “I don’t think I can do that, Fraser.”
He shakes his head slowly, his blue eyes level with mine. “No. I don’t suppose I could either.”
“What are the other options?”
“Acknowledge what occurred earlier today and leave it in the past, or...dissolve our partnership,” he sighs. “Personally, I would rather avoid the latter.”
“Me too,” I nod vigorously. At this point I can’t even imagine my life without Fraser. “I guess this means we just have to accept it for what it is and then move on?”
“Not necessarily,” he says slowly. His eyes are becoming oddly bright. “There is...one other option.”
I raise my eyebrows, leaning back against the couch.
“It may seem...slightly outlandish,” he continues quickly. “Maybe even mad, but...well, I don’t even know if you would even - “
My breath catches in my throat. “Do you mean --”
He nods.
My eyes widen. “Well that’s...that’s...”
“Merely a suggestion,” he says quickly. “Entirely up to you.”
“What exactly are you suggesting?” I ask, panicking for the first time. Because what if I’ve got it all wrong? What if we’re on entirely different pages. What if -
He blushes.
“Oh,” my eyes are probably about as wide as dinner plates. “That’s kinda what I figured, but...”
“It is, I admit, a slightly unbalanced idea...”
“Totally unbalanced.”
“But maybe,” he pauses, glancing at me almost fearfully. “Well, I don’t even know if you would even entertain such an idea.”
I snort. “Oh believe me Fraser, I’m not the issue here.”
He blushes again. “So you would consider...”
“I think I’ve considered it quite a few times,” I say softly, looking up at him. “I’m just kinda bad at catching on.”
He looks up at me, almost transfixed. “Ray.”
“What?” I choke out.
“This changes...a lot.”
“Yeah?”
He nods, getting up.
I stand up too.
“So I’m gathering that my proposal wasn’t entirely ill received,” he says slowly, taking a step closer.
I shake my head. “No.”
He sighs. “So what do we do?”
I look at him. His eyes are still oddly bright, as if they’re burning. His lips are slightly parted and they look so soft and pink. Huh, I’d never noticed that. Well...maybe a few times, but that’s besides the point. I find myself really wanting to touch them, so I do.
“Ray,” he says almost warningly, his eyes closing as my finger makes contact with his lips.
“Yeah?”
He doesn’t answer, but I feel the tip of his tongue dart out to touch my finger.
“Fraser?”
“Ray.”
“I’m fucking terrified.”
His eyes flutter open, and they are so so so fucking blue. “As am I, Ray.”
I kiss him.
As my lips touch his, something builds up inside of me. I always used to think that it was bullshit when people would talk about how fireworks would erupt behind your eyes when you kissed someone and all that kind of shit. Well...I think I may have been wrong. My eyes close, and behind them I can see snow falling.
Fraser’s lips are impossibly soft against mine, moving languidly and smooth. His tongue probes between my lips, and with a loud exhalation I let him in.
That thing that’s been building up - it shatters as Fraser’s tongue pushes into my mouth. With a loud - and maybe under other circumstances slightly embarrassing - groan, I’m pushing back into him, and my hands are everywhere - on the back of his neck, his face, his hair, his broad shoulders...and I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.
With a husky growl, Fraser pushes me down onto the couch and we’re lying there half on half off, and I can’t help but think that this is the hottest thing that’s happened to me in a while.
“Holy fuck,” I say hoarsely through his lips.
“Mmmmm,” he breathes, tearing his mouth away from mine to do some serious exploration of my neck.
I tilt my head back until it’s pressing into the couch. “Oh God, that’s fucking great.”
His tongue traces patterns into the exposed skin of my throat, and each spot he touches is on fire.
“Love you,” I say softly, and he freezes leaving me panicking because I may have said entirely the wrong thing without even realizing it.
I look up at him, panic stricken. A look of shock is frozen on his face - a lock of hair falling into his eyes, and his lips slightly parted, shiny, and swollen.
And then suddenly those lips are back on mine and he’s kissing the fucking life out of me. Not like I mind.
“Do you really mean that?” he asks almost desperately, his teeth doing wicked things to my lower lip.
“Oh yeah,” I say, getting my hands under his shirt. “Yeah I think I do.”
“Ray,” he sighs into my mouth. “Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray.”
And then he’s breathing a whole new kind of life into me.
Buddy breathing my ass, I think.
“Make love to me?”
I almost don’t hear him say it, I’m so caught up in how his mouth tastes. Like fresh new snow and green tea......
Wait, what?
I must have said it out loud, because his lips leave mine. “Make love to me, Ray. If you want to.”
I look up at him into the deep blue eyes. And I nod.
He smiles.
I smile back.
***********************
As soon as we’re in the bedroom, I get Fraser out of the borrowed clothes pretty damn quick. Borrowed. My clothes. Hmm, I wonder why I find that so appealing. Maybe just because it’s so familiar, you know?
“Ray.”
“Fraser.”
“I’m going to have to ask you to remove your tongue from my mouth so I can better take off your clothes.”
It sounds so technical that I almost laugh, and when I do remove my tongue from his mouth, I see that he’s grinning too.
“You’ve got about three seconds.”
His eyes twinkle as he quickly gets to work.
Wow....damn those eyes.
He peels off my clothes in record time, and I push him back onto the bed. For a moment, I just look at him - taking in the sight of his creamy, nearly hairless body spread out on my sheets. He’s slightly flushed in places and his nipples stand out dusky and hard against his chest. His eyes are wide, smoky, and bright, and his hair is mussed. I’ve never seen him look so beautiful.
“What is it?” he asks, flushing crimson.
I bite my lip quickly. “Nothing, it’s just...”
“What is it, Ray?”
“You’re kind of beautiful, Fraser.” And fuck, now I’m blushing too.
His eyes get even darker, and he pulls my face down to his, kissing me in a way that makes my entire body go limp against his.
“If that’s the kind of reaction you’re gonna have, I’m going to compliment you more often,” I say breathlessly when he finally lets me breathe.
He laughs, deep and husky. “Have you wanted to compliment me in the past?”
“Only every fucking day of my life.”
“Hmm,” he says with a smile as he flips me over so he’s hovering above me. “What would you have said?”
“Fraser, I like your hat,” I say slightly stupidly as his mouth roams over my chest, stopping at my nipples which are hard and aching. “Even if it’s the only form of head gear less conspicuous than a sombrero.”
He chuckles, and his tongue circles my nipple. “What else?”
“Fraser,” I whisper. “You look good in red. Even though your uniform makes you look a bit like a stop sign.”
“And?” he asks softly, sliding down between my legs. His nose brushes my hip.
“Fraser, I like...” I shudder beneath him, my voice choked and unsteady. “I like...you.”
His mouth closes around me, and it’s all I can do not to rocket up into his mouth. Desperately I grasp the edges of the mattress and pray to God that I can hold on for a little bit longer.
“Shit Fraser,” I groan as his tongue does something that should be illegal in all fifty states AND Canada.
He lets a deep low growl rip from the back of his throat, and that’s it, I’m thrown over the edge.
I see stars as I come.
For a long moment we just sit there together, breathing heavily. He grasps my thighs, resting his forehead upon my hip.
“Fraser,” I whisper softly.
“Ray.”
“What the hell are we doing?”
He slithers up to kiss me, and this is less about sex and more about love. I can feel that.
“We, Ray,” he says softly into my mouth. “Are doing what we should have done very, very a long time ago.”
His hand twines with mine, and that...well that may be more intimate than anything else we’ve done tonight.
“Because,” he continues. “Although some people may consider this to be very, very wrong-”
“Fuck them.”
His lip twitches. “Yes precisely, but as I was saying, although this may violate some serious moral values of certain parties in our established countries...well, pretending what was so obviously there wasn’t there wouldn’t do anything to improve the situation...in all it’s moral bankruptcy. I’m babbling, I’m afraid.”
“Fraser,” I say softly. “Do you have a problem with this? With what we’re doing?”
“No,” he answers quietly. “If my feelings towards you are reciprocated, then there is no obstacle.”
“Then why don’t you shut the fuck up,” I say teasingly. “And stop rambling.”
He does.
This time I’m the one in control. I roll him over beneath me, and nudge his legs apart.
“Ray,” he says softly, closing his eyes. “You don’t have to...”
“I want to,” I say with an impish smile. “Thanks to you, I just had one of the most mind blowing, heh, experiences of my life. It is only polite that I return the favor, although I dunno if it’ll be nearly as good as what you did a few minutes ago.”
He groans, covering his face with one hand. “God give me strength.”
I laugh, and then I lower my face to his groin.
He tastes like...like...well, there’s no word for it. I guess he just tastes like Fraser. He tastes like Fraser and salt and sweat and...something else. I can’t quite put my finger on it.
Whatever it is, I like it.
I start slow and a little tame - I’ve never done this before and I really don’t want to screw it up.
He moans, and his hands tangle in my hair.
Okay, I guess I’m not screwing it up.
“Ray?”
I look up.
His eyes are half open, and his voice is hoarse when he says: “You have no idea how incandescent you look right now.”
I really want to kiss him right now, but there are other things that need...attending to.
I run my tongue around him, taking him as deeply as I can without choking. As I curve my hand around the base of him and add a tiny bit of tooth to what my tongue is doing, he shudders and comes deep into my throat.
I don’t even choke.
He reaches blindly for my hand, and I take it, slithering up to lie beside him.
He kisses me, intoxicating, slow, and deep. “Thank you.”
“Any time,” I say hoarsely.
His eyes widen, and then he smiles. “Really?”
I nod.
“I had hoped you would say something like that.”
“That I would suck your dick whenever you wanted or that I didn’t want this to just be a one time thing?”
He laughs. “Both, actually. But I was thinking more along the lines of the latter.”
“Good,” I say softly, resting my head on his shoulder. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“As am I.”
“This might get a little tough at work though.”
His eyebrows furrow. “Why do you say so?”
“It’s going to be extremely hard to keep from jumping you in the middle of the bull-pen after what I’ve seen you do tonight.”
He blushes, lowering his eyes. “Oh.”
“But I’ll make an effort. If it means...this.”
“Sex?” he says, raising an eyebrow.
“Love,” I smile. “Love, Fraser.”
He looks up at me from beneath dark lashes. “I love you, Ray.”
I brush his cheek with my finger gently.
“I always have, you know.”
I nod. All stretched out on the bed beside me, I can almost believe him.
“And not just because I’ve always found you exceedingly attractive,” he continues thoughtfully.
I blush. “I am not exceedingly attractive, Fraser.”
“But that’s what makes you so attractive, Ray,” he says with a smile. “The fact that you don’t believe it although it’s so undeniably true.”
“You weren’t lying in the crypt?”
He shakes his head, still smiling. “No.”
“Huh. I’m not sure when being scrawny with experimental hair started being considered attractive, but it’s nice that you think so.”
He sighs. “Ray. You aren’t scrawny, you’re lean and muscled. You’re body is wiry and elegant, something which I admire very greatly. And I like your hair. It has character.”
“You like my hair?” I am probably grinning like the biggest dork right now.
“Very much,” he says softly, burying his nose in it.
“I like you.”
He laughs. “I can still scarcely believe it.”
“Am I dreaming?” I wonder.
“As unbelievable as it may sound, I think you are in fact awake.”
I yawn and he laughs.
“Although you probably shouldn’t be.”
“Wanna sleep a while?” I ask, slinging an arm across his chest and looking up at him willfully.
He grins. “That sounds...sublime.”
“Alright, get under.”
We awkwardly get under the sheets, and I turn off the light.
He is warm against me, and I lie there with my head against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
“Fraser?”
“What is it Ray?”
“What if when I wake up you’re gone and this was all just a dream?”
I don’t know how, but I hear him smiling even in the dark.
“Would you like me to pinch you?”
“Never mind.”
He laughs. “I’ll still be here in the morning when you wake up.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Good,” I say softly, and I drift off with his arms around me.
*****************
When I wake up, it’s dark and I can’t even see my hand in front of me. The first thing I notice is the fact that I’m stark naked. In the winter. The second thing I notice is that I’m freakishly warm which makes even less sense. And last but not least (and probably most important) I become aware of the fact that I’m nice and wrapped up in a mass of warm skin.
What...the...
And then it suddenly comes back to me.
Holy fuck I wasn’t dreaming.
“Fraser?” I whisper into the dark.
I hear a noncommittal “Mmmm” and suddenly the arms around my chest tighten.
I grin like an idiot.
“You awake?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Let me up real quick, I gotta check something.”
“No.”
I try not to laugh as I press my lips quickly to his shoulder. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
A loud sigh blows out against my neck, but the arms loosen and I ease myself out of bed.
Holy shit it’s cold.
I feel around in the dark until I find my jeans in a messy heap on the floor. I pull them on, and it’s a good fucking thing that I know my way around this place so well because I’m as blind as a bat in this light...er lack of light.
Carefully I walk over to the windows and pull back one of the dark drapes before blinking rapidly. It’s bright as hell out there; everything is completely white except for the buildings and the pink and orange streaked sky. Snow falls gently.
It looks like some kind of fucking Christmas card out there.
I grin at the sight of the soft snowy carpet dusting the ground. I haven’t seen snow like this since forever.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I nearly jump out of my skin. “Jesus Fraser, you scared the shit out of me!”
He grins at me, and my heart flips over a bit. “Sorry.”
“S’okay,” I say. And it is, because in this light he looks fucking beautiful. His creamy skin is practically glowing and his blue eyes are so sharp and clear. God, I still can’t believe I -
Hold that thought. Actually, hold any thoughts I had, because he’s standing behind me now, wrapping his arms around my bare waist, and fuck that feels good.
“What is it, Ray?”
“You,” I say softly, my hands covering his. “The snow. This.”
He doesn’t answer, but his lips press into the spot where my neck and shoulder meet and I shiver in response.
“Fraser...”
“Ray.”
“I take it this means you have no regrets.”
“Mmm,” he exhales warm and against my skin. “I can’t seem to come up with any right now, no.”
“Freak,” I say fondly.
“Your freak.”
My heart speeds up. I can feel it all over my body so I bet he can too.
“What do you want to do today?” he asks, his nose drifting up and down my neck.
“Uh,” I say slightly stupidly. “I got a few ideas.”
“We’re in agreement then.”
“How about a good old fashioned snow ball fight?”
“Hmmm,” he says with an almost wicked smile. “Maybe later. Right now I have a few other ideas.” His fingers move down my torso and weave into my belt loops.
Fraser’s talking dirty to me. Who ever knew?
“I like the way you think,” I manage.
“I like you,” he says quietly, unzipping my fly. “I love you, actually.”
“You know I feel the same way about you.”
“It still feels,” he turns me around and kisses me gently. “Great to hear you say it.”
“In that case,” I grin, sucking on his lower lip, my hands weaving into his hair. “Love you too.”
“Ray,” he whispers into my mouth. “Ray, Ray, Ray.”
“Lets go back to bed.”
“Say no more.”
We fall back into a mass of blankets, and as I shuck my jeans back off onto the floor, I think that maybe our timing can suck every now and then. Maybe we’re not always spot on. But the fact is, Fraser and I may be totally different people but we’ve finally found some really common ground. We’re a fucking duet. In more ways than one.
But then I remember that I have some more important things to attend to.
