Disclaimer: They're not mine. I promise to let them shower before I give them back.

"Um," Ray said, because he'd often thought about finding Fraser in his bedroom dressed in nothing but a towel. However, he didn't usually picture such a look of horror on Fraser's face. Or the busted up cardboard carton where he kept his porn in Fraser's hands. The fact that the bottom of the carton had finally given way, scattering dirty magazines all over Fraser's feet... well, that just added a whole extra scoop of 'um' to everything.

"I am so sorry," Fraser said, looking stricken. "I wasn't snooping, I just saw the box on the edge of the bed when I came out of the bathroom and went to move it. I had no idea..." Fraser's voice trailed off as he gestured to the piles of nudity heaped over his feet. "I will, of course, tidy it up." He bent over and started to reach out.

"Whoa there!" Ray said, almost leaping into the room. "I don't know how they do things at the North Pole, but down here you don't touch another man's porn, okay?"

"Um," Fraser said, echoing Ray's previous sentiment. Ray looked down and saw Fraser frozen, his hand reaching out to grab... oh shit. Most of the magazines in there had been filled with your basic naked girls, but it was just his dumb luck that most of the stuff that managed to land porn side up was boys only.

There were several horrible moments of complete silence, finally broken by Ray. "Do we have to talk about this?"

Fraser straightened up. "I think, as men, we're genetically predisposed, or at least culturally conditioned, not to talk about things like this."

Ray smiled a little. "Unless it's bragging."

Fraser actually grinned. "Of course."

Ray handed over Fraser's 'Oh God we fell in the lake/dumpster/skunk enclosure at the zoo again' bag of spare clothes. "So, uh. Beer and sports?"

"Excellent plan, Ray," Fraser said, taking the bag and going to the bathroom to change.

Ray tried not to read anything into the fact that Fraser left the door slightly ajar. He kicked the pile of porn until it was safely hidden under his bed, and went to see if there was anything stronger than beer in the apartment. Unfortunately there wasn't, so Ray was still distressingly sober when Fraser emerged from the bathroom pink and clean and smelling of Ray's soap, dressed in jeans and the world's ugliest plaid shirt.

Of course, Fraser made it look good, damn it. And how anyone could look good in something that was red, green and pus-yellow was a mystery, but Fraser managed it.

"Nice shirt," Ray said.

"Thank you," Fraser said, grinning. "Ray Vecchio always said he was surprised I hadn't been arrested at the border for trying to bring it into the United States."

Ray choked on his beer. "No kidding. Although I think a shirt like that would be a crime in any country."

"If you prefer," Fraser said, his grin turning into something a little more nervous, "I could take it off."

Ray's beer slipped out of his hand, he flailed as he tried to grab it and succeeded only in rapping his knuckles against it and sending it cartwheeling through the air towards Fraser, who fumbled it himself. By the time it finally hit the floor Fraser was splashed with beer and Ray was trying so hard not to laugh he was worried about giving himself a hernia or something.

Fraser rolled his eyes. "I am so bad at this."

"At what?" Ray asked, reaching over the breakfast bar for something to mop up the mess on the floor.

"Making passes at people."

"Is that what you were doing?" Ray was trying to play it cool, which wasn't easy because he was deep into a state somewhere between 'ohmigod' and 'wheeeeee'.

Fraser shuffled a little closer to Ray. "Well, I was trying to. I mean... we have been flirting, haven't we?" Ray made a non-committal noise and Fraser stepped closer. "I thought we were, sometimes, but I wasn't sure. And then I saw the..." Fraser waved at the bedroom, "... well..."

"Huge stack of gay porn," Ray added.

"Yes, that. And I know that just because you're attracted to men doesn't necessarily mean you're attracted to me, but..."

"Frase, you're a freak," Ray interrupted. "Even straight guys are attracted to you."

Fraser blinked in surprise. "Don't be silly, Ray. I can tell when someone is attracted to me, you know. Normally. Things become... uncomfortable. Which is why I wasn't sure: even after the buddy breathing we were still comfortable together. Not like the Inspector after the train, or Francesca after the leather incident, or..."

"Wait, leather?" Ray said, momentarily distracted.

"...but maybe the problem wasn't them, it was because they weren't right for me," Fraser said, ignoring Ray's question, "and we're comfortable because you are right for me, and we should just..." Fraser waved at the bedroom again.

"Huge stack of gay porn," Ray said, still distracted by the mental image of Frannie in leather.

Fraser grimaced. "Well, if you think it'd help. I have to admit, I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do."

"Wait, what?" Ray shook the image of leather out of his head and realized what was going on. "Oh. You want to," Ray waved at the bedroom, "now?"

Fraser was right up in his personal space now. "Or there's always beer and sports."

Ray considered for a moment. Beer and sports with his best friend. Or hot man on man action with his best friend. Ray grinned. "Geeze, Fraser, you're covered in beer. We have to get you out of these wet things."

The End