Proving It
by Ultra Chrome
Disclaimer: They're not my boys, but I'm playing with them anyway.
Author's Notes: Written for the SafeSex challenge.
Thank you a million times over to Heartofdavid and Lucifercircle for their fabulous beta skills.
Story Notes: Yes, it really does mean that.
"Frase, you gotta stop doing that. It's not buddies, okay?"
Fraser looked up from talking to Diefenbaker with his confused face on, even though Ray suspected it was all an act. "Doing what, Ray?"
"Talking to the wolf in Eskimo. It's rude. And not buddies, like I said."
"Inuktitut, Ray. And as I've told you before, it's easier for him to lip read than English. So, technically I'm making it easier for him to understand me, which would qualify as buddies, if I understand your definition of the word." Fraser looked pretty pleased with himself. Ray would have said smug, but smug wasn't something the Mountie would ever admit to being, so pleased with himself would have to do. And that kind of pissed Ray off. Because that wasn't what he'd meant and he knew that Fraser was fully aware of that.
"Yeah, well I don't understand it, so speak English when I'm around, or I may just have to kick you in the head." He grinned his feral little I-might-be-joking-but-you-don't-want-to-find-out-for-sure grin, and Fraser rubbed his thumb over his eyebrow, looked at the floor for a second and then squared up and looked Ray in the eye. "Since I'm not addressing you, it hardly seems relevant whether you understand or not, but if it truly bothers you, perhaps you should make some attempt to understand the language that your so called buddies find it easiest to converse in. I'd be happy to teach you," he said, in a very snippy and wholly un-Mountie-like tone.
Ray figured this was Fraser's way of picking a fight. Because, 1) Even he knew it wasn't polite to speak in a foreign language around someone who didn't understand it, when you were perfectly capable of saying words that everyone knew, and b) Fraser had got a look on his face like he was expecting Ray to clock him. Sort of staring blankly over Ray's shoulder and standing rigid as a plank.
So Ray pushed the point. "He's not even deaf, Fraser, he can hear a Krispy Kreme box open from fifty paces. Plus, you've only started doing it since the whole Volpe thing, which makes it look like you've just figured out how to talk about me when I'm right there, so just quit it, okay?"
Diefenbaker whined and trotted off, managing to look thoroughly disgusted with no more than a flick of his bushy tail.
All the starch went out of Fraser then. "Understood, Ray. But I want you to know that I have nothing to say about you that I wouldn't be willing to say to you openly, and in English."
And since Ray had nothing to say to that he turned on his heel and stalked into the briefing room.
It was packed in there. Ray hadn't even known there were this many cops at the 27th. They found two empty seats at the back and Lt Welsh just looked at them before he cleared his throat and said, "Since we're all finally here, I'll get started shall I?" And Fraser pulled out his notebook and a pencil and put on his concentrating face. Ray figured this meant he could just leave the information gathering to his partner and let his mind wander around the room, only half taking in the details of the case.
It was a big one. A drug ring...again. Mob related...again. People were dying...again. It all made Ray wonder why he ever chose this job...again. What made it all worse was that he knew no matter what they did, even if they got the guys in charge, they wouldn't be able to hold them. The big fish would slip through the net with the help of their greasy lawyers and the small fish would be hung out to dry. If the poor guys were real lucky there'd be a nice nest egg waiting when they got out. If not they'd be right back in it, but even harder and more cagey. So nobody was going to win here. Except maybe the junkies who wouldn't be buying a hit of Drano laced smack for a few months. Till it all blew over and some other big shot decided the three million he made on each shipment wasn't enough. But hey, junkies were a dime a dozen to these people, right? You killed one off, three more grew back in their place. Like grey hairs. The ones you got from going through the motions, even when you knew it made no difference.
Like the ones you got working with the Mountie. Because if you weren't driving flaming cars into lakes or nearly drowning or getting caught up with freaky spies who kicked you out of moving vehicles, then you were hanging around while he licked things and helped little old ladies cross the street. And then, when you weren't actually working with him, and you were home alone, you were either hating him for being so right about everything and perfect or loving him and whacking off wishing he'd stick his pretty ass in the air and beg you to fuck it. Which was not something he should be thinking about here.
So he crossed his legs and folded his arms and tried to actually listen in on the real world for a minute. And wouldn't you know it...Fraser was making suggestions about suitable places and ideal times for a stake-out. So of course Welsh praised him and told him that he and Ray could have the first shift. Tonight. Starting right about the time Ray had planned to be cracking a beer and opening his fly so he could properly reflect on how Fraser's mouth was kind of crooked when he got all worked up about stuff. How he was only perfect when he was Constable Fraser, but when he was just Frase he was way hotter.
The timing totally sucked, the case sucked, stake-outs sucked and most of all Fraser sucked. And it was really important that Ray let him know this, so he held out his hand and just kept it there until Fraser worked it out and passed him the notebook and pencil. He nodded as he grabbed them and found a fresh page. Nice and big at the top of the page he wrote four letters, explaining to his partner exactly how he felt.
U SUK
And then a whole heap of exclamation marks for emphasis. He thought that would make it clear enough and handed the whole lot back, watching for the response. Which was not quite what he expected, but then what was new? Although why Fraser would smile, blush and then write a reply was beyond him, but he waited and watched until Fraser tilted the notebook his way and he read the five letters he'd written in reply.
PENIS
It took a while to sink in, because Ray was so not expecting it and didn't have his glasses on. Plus, there was no way Fraser would write PENIS and show it to him, was there? But there it was, plain as day, even to his eyes. Which were suddenly much larger.
It must be some kind of joke. No way was Fraser serious about this. So he held his hand out again and this time he wrote...SERIOUSLY? To which Fraser only nodded and he definitely looked serious and that meant that it wasn't only Ray's eyes that were suddenly bigger. How could you not react when your incredibly hot partner just admitted to you (in a room packed with people) that he sucked dick? So he grinned and mouthed, "Prove it," and Fraser grinned backed at him and mouthed, "Later."
Ray was on a promise! It made the stake-out thing suddenly much more appealing. Uncomfortably appealing. So he forced himself to listen to Welsh. What he heard made him so angry that his eyes quickly got a lot smaller. The other part of him obediently followed suit.
Ten minutes later they were coming out into the bullpen and Ray was ranting about how it was no way a good thing that they were only taking down the license plates of the cars that came in to buy the drugs and not busting the whole thing wide open at the first sign of dealing. He made sure that Fraser understood that he didn't give a flying turtle about what the feds wanted to find out before they took these slime balls out of the game, because how many more people had to buy a hit of death before that was going to happen?
Fraser had actually even started to agree with him for once, but of course Ray wasn't going to get to enjoy the whole moment, because Frannie had laid eyes on the Mountie and just pushed on in and dragged him away. Not even a "Hi, Ray." Why was he not surprised? But it didn't matter, on account of the fact that Frannie wasn't going to be having any part of her anatomy down Fraser's throat later, was she? He shuddered at the image that thought gave him and headed for the break room for a coffee.
He sat down to drink it as Welsh walked in carrying an inflatable penguin and wearing a look that said, "Don't ask!" in the loudest possible way without actual words. So Ray didn't, because there was no way he was going to be doing extra stake-outs, even if it turned out Fraser wanted to suck his dick on a regular basis. Hey, a guy could dream right? So when Welsh put the penguin on the table in front of him, it was a good thing. Stopped him from having to repack the package. And when Welsh told him to head home for the afternoon and rest up for the job tonight, that was an even better thing, because it meant he had time to reflect on the things he was thinking about reflecting on earlier. And he needed to do that or he was going to wear a hole in the front of his jeans.
He walked out just in time to see Fraser heading out the door and ran to catch up. "Hey, Frase! Where ya going? Want a ride?"
"Thank you kindly for the offer, Ray, but no. Diefenbaker somehow managed to ingest not one, but three doughnuts in a space of a few minutes and as a result he needs the exercise. And to answer your first question; Inspector Thatcher phoned to request I run a high priority errand on her behalf, but she assures me that I will be allowed the luxury of a late start to my sentry duty tomorrow, in light of the fact that I will be working late tonight with you. Thoughtful of her, don't you think, Ray?"
"Yeah, Fraser, she's a real sweetheart. This is me being insincere, before you agree, ok?"
"Ray, that's hardly..." but Ray cut him off by pointing at his chest.
"You got something to prove tonight, buddy, so don't go letting her wear you out chasing runaway dry cleaning."
All of a sudden it hit Ray again. He was on a freaking promise! Too much to deal with in public, so he stopped and waved vaguely to the men's room, mumbled, "I, uh...gotta...see ya later. I'll, umm pick you up," and did his best to not actually bolt for the bathroom.
Once he got there, he contemplated jerking off. Really, really contemplated it. Then he splashed his face with cold water instead, and thought of all the low lives he was going to have to look for and leave alone tonight and he was back to angry, which was fine. Angry was going to get him out to the Goat and home safe with his shorts dry and that was better than fine. That was, in fact, greatness.
And it did. Just. It wasn't easy, but he managed to keep his mind off Fraser's perfect lips and obviously hyper-active tongue and the things they were going to be doing to his cock in, oh...five hours or so, for long enough to get in the door. And then, just because he was home alone and he wasn't hating Fraser for being perfect and right about everything, of course Ray ended up whacking off, but instead of the pretty ass he was thinking of the equally pretty mouth and coming like a freight train. Down a mountain. With no brakes. Then he set his alarm clock and fell into bed for a couple of hours, because, hey, nothing made a guy sleep quite like getting his rocks off.
When he woke up he was hard again and that was no surprise because for him masturbation was like Chinese food. He was always hungry again a couple of hours later. Which was pretty strange, since you'd think getting off was getting off, even if it was a solo effort, but somehow it wasn't the same. He wanted to know why that was, but he wasn't going to ask anyone. Mostly because he had a hunch that these days it was more about his feelings for his partner than about the fact that he had a boner.
So he had a quick tug in the shower and told himself that it wasn't just so Fraser would have to suck him longer before he came and it was over. And that he didn't care that this was probably going to be the only time ever he'd get head from the most wanted guy in Chicago. Most importantly, he told himself that he didn't care if it was only so Fraser could prove a point, since that was, after all, Fraser's favourite thing in the whole world, except maybe pemmican and Inuit stories.
And then he did the whole getting ready thing. Not so easy this time, since there was the issue of what to wear and all. Did he dress to impress or for easy access? In the end he went for a little of both. Boxers came first. His loose blue jeans, on account of them having a zipper instead of buttons and his Chicago Bulls t-shirt, since he thought he looked damn fine in that one. Add one old leather jacket and he was good to go. Hair was looking good. Like it ever wasn't.
He picked up his keys and headed for the door. Halfway out he stopped. He'd forgotten aftershave. So then he had the `is that going too far?' discussion with himself and decided that Fraser would probably hate the chemical smell anyway. Plus it wasn't like he had to seduce the guy, `cause he'd already agreed and fuck, Ray'd almost forgotten condoms.
He strolled into the bedroom, stopping to admire himself in the mirror again and then going to the top drawer for supplies. That's when he got ideas. Because there was the lube, staring at him, and he could almost hear it say, "But what if Fraser wants more?" And Ray was open to that, so he picked up the lube and grabbed a couple of gloves. He could do the whole prepared-like-a-boy-scout thing too.
So that he didn't have to walk down the hall with half a sex shop in his hands for all the world to see, he threw the whole lot into his gym bag with the towel and the change of clothes that his mom had washed and put back in there when she came to crispify his shirts. Now he really was good to go. Pitter patter and all that.
He pulled up outside the consulate with almost an hour to spare, which was some kind of miracle for him, but it wasn't because of being on a promise or anything. Not even a little bit. He thought about getting out to let Fraser know he was there, but before he could, the big wooden door opened and Turnbull stuck his head out. Followed by a hand clutching something that looked like it was blood-stained. Ray stuck his glasses on in time to see the crazy Mountie wave a wooden spoon at him and disappear back inside. Okay. No way was he going in there if Turnbull was cooking. There could be anything in that red stuff on the spoon and he didn't want to know.
He checked his hair in the rear vision mirror, adjusted one or two stray spikes and settled down to wait. He really wanted a cigarette but no way would he get away with that. Fraser would smell it all the way from his office at the back of Little Canada, even with the doors all shut. So he reached into the glove compartment for a toothpick, which he was just popping into his mouth when Fraser came out with damp hair and a little leather bag. In real clothes too, and this was a very, very good thing. His dick noticed pretty quickly and he laid a hand over it to calm it down, which did no good at all, and why did he even think it would?
When Fraser got in he glanced at Ray's lap, lingering on the position of Ray's hand and then cleared his throat as he stared out the windscreen. "You're early, Ray. I just stepped out of the shower. Unfortunately I didn't have time to dress in uniform. I did, however, gather everything we should need for this evening's festivities," he said with just the tiniest hint of amusement in his voice but none at all on his face.
Ray put both hands on the steering wheel and smiled, half embarrassed. "It's all good, Frase. I like you better in real human clothes, anyway. The freak suit? While it really floats my boat, it's not...you know, practical for this kinda thing. Where's the wolf?"
"Ah. Well, you see, Constable Turnbull has been struck by the Culinary Experimentation bug and he managed to convince Diefenbaker to be his guinea pig, as it were...." He seemed a bit reluctant to go on, so Ray filled in the blanks.
"Flatulence?" He asked.
"You have no idea!" Fraser shook his head in disgust and a droplet of water fell from his wet hair and trickled down his neck, hypnotising Ray into imagining his tongue following the trail it made to the collar of Fraser's cream sweater. The one with the pulled threads and slightly frayed edges that Ray really liked because it looked like Fraser loved it. He was aware that Fraser was saying his name and shook himself a little.
"Sorry. Train of thought derailed. So, uh...you wanna do this before we go stare at a warehouse for six hours or after?"
"Do what, Ray?"
"The proof thing. You know...with the...proving it." Why couldn't he just say it outright? It wasn't like Fraser was against the idea; he'd smiled when he agreed to it. And it wasn't the polite, `Yes, Ray' smile he used when he was just humouring him. No, that had been one of those, `Ray my very good friend I can think of nothing I would like better' smiles. Like he used the first time Ray had invited him over to watch hockey.
Fraser reached between his feet for his bag. "We could do it right now if you'd like."
"Now?" Ray spluttered. "Outside the consulate? You really are a freak, aren't you?"
Fraser ignored the freak bit and focused on the other questions. "Well, the light is still good and in my estimation we have approximately 47 minutes before we need to be in position for the stake-out, so we have the perfect opportunity."
"Would you stop looking at me like I've lost the plot? What do we need light for? I mean, it's probably better if everyone walking by can't see in the car, you know?" Even if his dick seemed to like the idea, Ray wasn't keen to be blown in full daylight on a busy street.
"Ray! I hardly think it judicious to use the interior light when we'll be attempting to remain undiscovered. And with your eyesight, I'm fairly certain you won't be able to see what I need to show you once it gets dark, so I believe it would be advantageous to utilise the daylight while it is available to us. It matters little to me if we are seen doing so."
Something in Ray's brain crawled out from under the testosterone for long enough to make him think something was definitely not right with this conversation. It wasn't quite matching up, since there was no way Constable Benton Fraser of the RCMP was okay with being caught with a mouthful of cock in front of his place of work, even if he was off duty. He looked at Fraser's eager face and realised that they had some seriously crossed wires here, and if he could have kicked himself in the head for being so stupid, he'd be all over that in about two seconds flat. He'd much rather be unconscious at this point, thank you very fucking kindly.
"Okay, Frase. Show me now," he said and he knew his voice sounded pretty dead right now, but somehow he couldn't really make himself care. Even though he could feel his partner looking at him like he was sure Ray was having some kind of episode. He just stared at his hands and tried to decide if he wanted to die of embarrassment or disappointment more. Until the jealousy option came to mind. Because, what if he was going have to look at photos of Fraser blowing some other guy? He dropped his head onto his hands and tried to disappear into the steering wheel. No, no, no...not possible, please God, no.
"Ray? Is everything alright? If you're unwell, I'm sure Lt. Welsh would be amenable to us switching shifts with someone else." Fraser had stopped rustling papers and Ray turned his head to see what he was in for. At least it didn't look like there were photos. Just a neat little stack of ordinary white printing paper.
"I'm fine, I'm good...just...you know, get on with it."
Fraser looked doubtful for a moment, but took Ray at his word and waded into a lengthy speech that Ray really had to try to focus on. Something about dictionaries not being available but he'd managed to find some relevant information on the consulate's database and printed it out. "I hope this is acceptable to you. I do have one question though, Ray. How on Earth did you know the correct spelling if you didn't know the meaning of the word?"
All Ray could manage to say was, "Huh?"
"It's just that, phonetically speaking; ooshook doesn't sound anything like the way it's actually written. I was simply wondering if you were perhaps tugging my chain and have a better grasp of Inuktitut than you have been leading me to believe."
"Yanking your chain, Fraser. Not tugging your anything." Ray carefully didn't add the `unfortunately' on the end of that statement. "Plus, what's an ooshook when it's at home?"
"It's a penis, Ray, as I am about to prove to you. But I would like to know how you came to the correct spelling of the word, if you weren't aware of its meaning."
The whole thing fell horribly into place. Ray groaned and reached for the ignition key. It was going to be much easier if he had a reason to not look at the Mountie's face while he had this conversation and there was no better excuse than driving. So he pulled out from the curb before he asked, "This correct spelling. Would it happen to be U-S-U-K?" He braced himself for the answer he knew was coming and the conversation that was going to follow hot on its heels.
"Yes, Ray, it would indeed. But if you didn't already know that...well why would you write it on my notepad?"
"I didn't. I wrote some whole other thing, in like uh...shorthand, but not quite. You know, when you make something shorter by not using all the letters. Never mind. It's not important. Thanks for the neat new cuss word. I'll try it on Dewey tomorrow." He cranked the stereo up loud to make it clear that the discussion was over. In a big way. And he tried really hard not to notice that Fraser was staring at him like he'd just grown another head, which he kind of wished he had, because this one was going to explode any minute by the feel of it. The one on his shoulders, anyway. The other one had given up any hope of that happening.
The next few hours were even more annoying because Fraser was actually staying quiet for a change and didn't even give him any grief about forgetting to bring a notebook to take down the license plates in. Of course it wasn't a problem anyway, since Mr Boy-Scout-Five-P's Fraser was as prepared as always. Plus he could see in the dark to write them down, which meant Ray pretty much sat there for the first four hours (except for the 5 minutes it took him to duck around the corner to the gas station bathroom and back) hating the guy and hating himself and wishing he could at least fall asleep or something so the silence would stop making his head hurt. Most of all he wanted to tell Fraser how much he sucked, but that was an area he was no way going anywhere near. So he sat there and tried not to fidget.
Halfway through the fifth hour Ray nearly jumped out of his skin when Fraser spoke. It was just a quiet little, "Ray?" but it freaked him out anyway. He didn't know if his mouth would even work anymore, it'd been so long since he'd used it, so he just turned his head and looked daggers at Fraser, hoping he wasn't going to say any of the things Ray thought he was going to say.
Fraser shifted a little in his seat, but kept his eyes forward, "On the notepad. Were you telling me I suck?"
"Yes, Fraser, I was."
"And you meant it in the same way you do when something is unacceptable to you?"
"Yeah."
"Ah. I thought as much."
And Ray saw the tell-tale eyebrow rub, which meant that Fraser wasn't done with this line of questioning, but wasn't quite sure how to go on. He got almost a whole minute of welcome silence before the next question.
"Why would you say that, Ray?"
Ray thought he heard a touch of hurt in Fraser's voice and he felt like crawling into a hole somewhere, because if the thickest skinned man in the world (or was that most clueless?) was feeling like that, Ray must be a world class asshole.
"Look, Frase," he said, "Don't take it personal, Okay? I mean, it's like the freak thing. You do something weird, I call you a freak. You do something that gets us stuck in a car for hours on end, I tell you you suck. It doesn't mean I hate you. It just means...I'm venting, you know?"
"Very well, Ray. If you say so."
And the Mountie clammed up again. But Ray thought if he listened real close he could hear that giant brain ticking over.
So they'd sat in the Goat for six whole hours and hardly said anything to each other but Ray didn't feel so bad anymore. At least Fraser got it now. He still felt like a prize idiot but at least he didn't have to feel like an asshole too, so that was something.
When the Duck Boys pulled up across the street Ray gave it a few more minutes before he started the car and asked, "So you want food, or straight back to Mountie Central?" He kind of hoped Fraser would want to go straight home, because he'd felt like a complete jerk for long enough already. He totally didn't expect what he heard next.
"Well, I was hoping you'd take me back to your apartment, Ray. Owing to the fact that it would be a much more convenient venue for me to prove you right."
There was only one thing Ray could imagine that meant but he had to be sure this time.
"You mean you want to...you're actually up for...uh..." He waved a hand toward his lap and the rapidly reforming bulge there.
"Yes, Ray."
"And you decided this when?"
"Well, I've thought about it many times in the past, but I settled on this course of action almost immediately after you assured me that you didn't find me unacceptable." And, believe it or not, the Mountie was fiddling with his notepad!
Ray was torn between wanting to do the dance of joy and wanting to punch Fraser for keeping that information to himself, so he just took a deep breath and said, "You couldn't have told me this when you decided?"
"Well, no, Ray. I felt that disclosing my intentions at that particular point in time may have been detrimental to our focus on the job at hand."
And what could he say to that? So he grinned, rolled his shoulder and hit the accelerator a little harder. About a minute later he thought of something and so he said it. "Fraser, you suck!"
Fraser smiled with his whole face and answered, "Indeed. And you drive too slowly."
There was no way Ray was going to be guilty of that, so he floored it and was seriously glad that it was after 2am and the roads were pretty much deserted, because the speed he was doing was even making him nervous, but Fraser just sat there, calm. Which was too weird, seeing as he freaked out when Ray drove at half this speed any other time.
By the time they got to the door of Ray's apartment there was no doubt that Fraser had set his mind on doing more than just proving a point. He was pressed real close behind Ray, hands on Ray's hips and doing things to Ray's ear with his tongue that somehow made the key not fit in the lock anymore. At least until he reached around and took control of the key ring, and then he was pushing with his hips and sliding his hands up the front of Ray's Bulls shirt as they stumbled into the apartment.
They were halfway to the bedroom when Ray stopped dead and said, "FUCK!" but Fraser just kept right on groping and breathed, "I certainly hope so," into the skin of Ray's neck.
Which made it even harder for Ray to turn and push him away, but it had to be done. And Ray was tough, he could survive without those hands and that tongue for the few minutes it would take to go and get his gym bag out of the Goat. He managed to explain this to Fraser, who looked, believe it or not, impatient.
"Frase, I got stuff we need in there. I gotta get it. Just...uh...something. Only don't start without me, okay?" and he bolted for the door, only to turn back and ask for his keys, which Fraser had tossed onto the couch. He grabbed them and took off again, before the Mountie had time to blink...and that was saying something.
Ray discovered two things before he got back upstairs. The first thing was that running with a hard on...not much fun. The second thing? You could actually take stairs three at a time if you really wanted to. Which he figured he'd probably be better off not doing with said hard on in future, because...ouch.
So things were a little less urgent when he got back, at least from his point of view. Fraser, on the other hand, obviously felt the exact opposite. He already had his boots off and Ray was starting to get a little bit freaked out by the time he'd been dragged bodily into the bedroom and onto the bed.
"Right. Who are you and what have you done with my Mountie?" He asked the guy who was tugging at his jacket.
Fraser smiled wickedly. "Ask not what I have done with the Mountie, but what the Mountie is about to do with you."
Ray laughed, but then he grabbed Fraser's hands and said, "Seriously here, Frase. What's got into you all of a sudden? You're like...uh...are you on drugs?"
This must have knocked the wind right out of Fraser's sails because he sort of huffed and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.
"I'm sorry, Ray. I was under the impression that you were keen to... be on intimate terms with me. Perhaps I misread the situation, or at the very least misjudged the extent of your enthusiasm."
"No. No. I'm keen," Ray assured him, "I'm the keenest of the keen here, but you're... not acting like you. I mean, people throw themselves at you all day, every day and you don't even blink. Now you've gone all... you know... like you're sex starved or something. It's a little weird. Good. But weird."
Fraser nodded. "I see how it would be," he said slowly, "however, I think you'll understand that I'm not in the habit of leading people to believe I have an interest in them if I don't. Likewise, I see no point in prevaricating when my attentions are appreciated. So, to put it in simple terms, Ray, I want you and the sooner I have you naked, the happier I'll be. Is that weird?"
Ray grinned then. It was still Fraser, big words and all, and if he wanted to get naked and dirty then Ray was all over that. So he told Fraser to stay put and went to his gym bag to collect the supplies he'd thought he wasn't going to need earlier. He put them on the side table and crawled back on to the bed and pulled at the bottom of Fraser's sweater. Clever Mountie took the cue and removed it quick smart and the Henley under it lasted all of about two seconds flat. And when he went to start on the jeans, Ray stopped him. "No way, Benton buddy. That there is my job." Which earned him a kiss. Hot, wet and way too good to make him want to bother with moving his arms so Fraser could take off his jacket. But somehow, it got done and then he was being pushed back so his t-shirt could be pulled over his head and then there was warm skin against his chest and hands roaming over his back and, oh God, that tongue back in his mouth.
He reached down and opened Fraser's jeans before pushing him down on his back and sliding off the edge of the bed so he could take them completely off. And as he stood there with a handful of denim, Fraser sat up and returned the favour, sliding his boxers down at the same time and urging Ray to get back on the bed. Which didn't take much doing.
God knows how long they kissed and rubbed against each other and groped and nibbled, but it felt like an age, in the best possible way. Ray was in no hurry to make this end, he could find a million things to kiss on Fraser's body without even getting near his dick, and Fraser found a million and one on him. And just when Ray was wondering why no one ever told him his belly button was a major hot spot, he felt a hand on the base of his cock and a condom being rolled down over it. He lifted his head to look down and Fraser met his eyes, licked his lips and opened that pretty mouth and proceeded to prove that he did, indeed, suck usuk. And he certainly did not suck at doing so. Which Ray would find kind of amusing later but his brain wasn't doing much of anything right now. Except maybe getting ready to explode, which it did pretty soon after.
But the fun did not stop there. Oh no. Ray knew that Fraser was a Mountie who had not yet got his man, and that just wouldn't do. So when he could actually breathe again he pulled Fraser up and kissed him hard and hungrily and handed him a glove and the lube. And because Fraser was a bright guy he didn't need to explain a thing before he was being rolled over and pulled by the hips until he was up on his hands and knees.
He had his filled condom off and in a wad of tissues by the time Fraser was gloved and lubed and nipping gently on his spine. He might be about to fuck Ray senseless, but he was still a guy with an oral fixation. And Ray was not complaining. He was still not complaining when Fraser pressed a slippery finger into him, even if it was a little fast.
It didn't take him long to adjust though and soon there were three very agile fingers working him and he could only think of one thing better than that. So he reached over and grabbed Fraser a condom and sort of shoved it back along the sheets and said, "Fuck me, Fraser."
The groan that came from behind him was pretty hot, and it was followed by one from his own mouth when those talented fingers left him a little too quickly, but it was all good, because it was replaced sooner than he expected with something much better. He rocked back as Fraser pushed forward and it wasn't long before he felt those hips pressed hard against him.
It had been so long since he'd had anyone inside him like this, and he was sure he'd never had anyone this big, so he was glad Fraser didn't move right away. And he was glad that he moved real slow when he started, because it felt like each stroke went on for miles and he could feel his own dick getting hard again and it was like being in slow motion replay, where he could study every single sensation in every part of him.
And then Fraser wrapped his arms around Ray's middle and pulled him upright, so he could bite his neck and things sped up. Ray reached back with one arm and gripped Fraser's ass to encourage him to thrust harder and took himself in his other hand, matching the pace. He didn't need much more before he lost all sense of rhythm and he was practically being bounced off Fraser's thighs as he came again, hard, but not too messily. He heard himself calling Fraser's name, which seemed to be the cue his partner needed to catch up, and he barely got his arms out in front of him in time to keep from falling face first into the mattress when Fraser pushed him forward and slammed home a couple more times. And then Fraser was buried deep in Ray, and coming with a groan that was the single most carnal thing Ray had ever heard.
When they got it together enough to sort themselves out and crawl under the covers, Ray decided to be brave and asked, "Frase, when exactly did you figure out that I thought you were going to blow me?"
This earned him a blush and the tiniest hint of a smile, "Well Ray, I first had suspicions before our interchange over the notepad had concluded, and was satisfactorily convinced during our conversation as I was leaving the station. I must say, I'm surprised you handled my pretence at misapprehension with such equanimity."
"Fraser?"
"Yes, Ray?"
"Soon as I'm up to it, I'm going to cuff you to the bed and torture you till you forget all those big words, okay?"
Fraser wrapped himself around Ray and murmured, "Alright. I don't think that would suck too much."
"Freak," said Ray and he closed his eyes.
End Proving It by Ultra Chrome
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