For the longest time, Ray thought Fraser was straight.

Or - okay, to be honest - he just didn't think Fraser went one way or the other. Fraser was so buttoned-up and repressed and - hell, solitary - that Ray just figured he'd sort of - moved past sexuality. Fraser and fucking just didn't seem to be something you could realistically even think about in the same sentence.

Well - to be honest, again - he'd thought about it, sure, but if you looked at Fraser, it was pretty hard to see him really letting go. He was hot, sure, and it wasn't like he was against using that to his advantage, but there was a difference between being calculating about it and just giving in to sheer, animal desire.

Ray knew that Fraser did calculating really well. The sheer animal desire part, well, that came as kind of a surprise.

The first time Fraser made a move was on stakeout, which maybe shouldn't have been surprising. There was something about sitting for hours in a parked car with someone that, well, if there was sexual tension to be had, made people act on it. Ray's first partner, as a matter of fact, this slim Irish kid named Jason, had, during one endless night stuck in the front seat of the cramped pool car they'd been assigned, slid across the bench seat and kissed Ray senseless. It seemed completely out of the blue, but Ray wasn't complaining, and when Jason went down on him right there in the front seat, Ray made sure to keep his eyes on the building they were supposed to be watching for (almost) the entire time.

You just never knew what would happen on stakeout.

So, when Fraser had fallen silent after his Inuit story about the basket-weaver and the musk ox and Ray was half-aware of the sort of tension there in the silence. He wondered for a second about the sex thing, but this was Fraser and it just seemed silly. He figured Fraser maybe was trying to think of another story to tell and was panicking because he'd somehow told all the Inuit stories in the goddamn world. Maybe he was trying to decide whether to start again at the beginning or mix it up a little this time around.

Either way, Ray was mostly just staring out the windshield and drumming his fingers on his thighs. And it was when he finally sighed, and reached down, and pulled on the lever that let his seat tilt back a little, so he could stretch out his cramped legs, that Fraser made this sound in his throat, and then he shifted around on the seat, and then he was leaning in towards Ray.

Ray looked at him, surprised, trying to figure out what was going on. Fraser - politely, of course, giving him plenty of time to pull back, push Fraser away - leaned closer, and closer still, while Ray watched him, barely breathing, and then Fraser was kissing him, all soft and quiet. Ray's heart was pounding and one hand came up just by instinct, to clutch the soft fabric of Fraser's shirt. And Fraser, god, just kept kissing him. Taking his time. Moving his lips against Ray's, all gentle and slow and it was the longest time before he even slipped his tongue past Ray's lips.

And all Ray could do was hold on and kiss him back.

When he pulled back, finally, Ray was breathless and he knew his eyes must look wide and dazed as he stared at Fraser. "Okay," he said, finally, as he reached down and adjusted his now very hard cock in his jeans. "Hi. What was that?"

Fraser lifted an eyebrow, managing to look cool even though he was pretty flushed himself. "I should think it was fairly obvious. Shall I show you again?"

"I - well, yeah," Ray said helplessly, and Fraser smiled and slid forward again and the rest of the stakeout was pretty much a wash. Turned out even Fraser could get distracted from duty when things were heated up.

*~*~*~*~*

So that's how they started, and it went really damn well from there. They didn't get too far past heavy petting before their shift was up, and Fraser managed to get his hand out of Ray's pants before anyone saw anything, so all in all, Ray called that a win.

And Fraser, it turned out, was pretty damn good at everything, and if he didn't have as much experience in certain areas as Ray, he was what you might call eager to learn. So when Ray, for example, turned him over and licked his careful way down Fraser's smooth back until his tongue ended up between his cheeks and Fraser ended up coming all over the sheets about two minutes later, then Fraser - good pupil that he was - wanted nothing so much as to give it a shot himself.

Ray didn't argue.

And things were good. They were buddies, just like before, and they worked good together, just like before, and Fraser told Inuit stories, just like before. Only now there was the buddies/working/Inuit thing with stuff like blowjobs and rimming and jerking off and making out to sort of break things up and man, you couldn't ask for more than that.

Ray would never have thought Fraser would be this into sex. He'd never seemed to be missing it when he wasn't having it, but now that he was having it with Ray, it was like he couldn't get enough. He wanted it all the time, and god, seeing the look on Fraser's face when he wanted it was enough to make Ray want it, too. All the damn time.

They'd be working on a case, papers and coffee cups scattered across Ray's desk, talking it out and getting nowhere, but working on it, you know? And then Ray would look up and Fraser would have stopped suddenly - just stopped. And he'd be watching Ray work, his eyes all hot, and the color high in his cheeks, and when Ray caught him, he'd do something like lick his lower lip, or sometimes just hold Ray's gaze, just stare at him and not drop his gaze.

The first time that happened, Ray dropped his pen on the floor, then he spilled the dregs of his coffee on the report they were working on, and then he got up and dragged Fraser to the supply closet and kissed him until they were both panting. Then he dropped to his knees and sucked Fraser off right there, while Fraser braced himself against the shelves and moaned almost silently as he came in Ray's mouth.

The second time it happened, Fraser, his eyes bright, got up and walked away oh so casually. And Ray - well, Ray dropped his pen on the floor and spilled his coffee on his shirt. Again. Then he sighed, and got up, and went after Fraser.

That time Fraser caught hold of his arm the second Ray cautiously opened the door to the supply closet, and dragged him inside, and jerked Ray off as he breathed in the scent of toner and paper products.

It was dangerous, Ray knew, and stupid, and it wasn't stopping. It wasn't just the precinct, either. There was this one night they were leaving the bar on the corner where Ray had dragged Fraser to see the White Sox get really very badly beaten by the Mariners. By the time they left, it was pretty late, and Ray had only had maybe three or four beers, and Fraser had only had one, so really, both of them were sober enough to know better than to be making out in a barely lit alley right off of Huron.

But they were doing just that, and Fraser was panting so hard that Ray thought he was maybe going to come right there, just from the kissing, before Ray even put a hand on him. And stupid or not, that would be a sad, sad waste. So Ray twisted the two of them around and pressed Fraser back hard against the bricks. He was leaning in for another kiss, and his hand was working on the buttons on Fraser's jeans, when there was the sound of loud conversation from the mouth of the alley.

Ray froze and pressed up hard against Fraser, his heart beating a mile a minute, really hoping the shadows were dark enough to hide them. The voices got closer, then a couple of shadows went past the alley and kept on walking. Thank Christ.

Ray eased up his hold on Fraser. "That was close," he muttered, looking at him.

And - Fraser was watching him, his eyes hot and wide. He didn't look nervous or scared or like he was going to suggest they take this someplace a little more private. He just looked turned on. God, he was getting off on this, he was really fucking getting off on this. He was breathing even harder than before, and he reached down and moved Ray's hand down to press against him, so damn hard in his pants.

"Fraser," Ray said, slightly uneasy. Yeah, seeing Fraser all turned on like this was hot, but - "Don't you think we should -"

"Ray," Fraser interrupted, his voice hoarse and desperate. "Please, just -"

And how could Ray say no? How could anyone say no to Fraser asking for it?

Which is how Ray ended up jerking Fraser off right there in that dark, dank alley where anyone could see them if they just looked hard enough. Fraser came, his forehead pressed against Ray's shoulder, his breath coming hot against the hollow of Ray's throat. Fraser fumbled for Ray's pants, looking to return the favor, but Ray just shook his head and kissed him hard and said, "Let's go home."

Fraser's eyebrows creased. "Are you -"

Ray shook his head, grinning. "I want to do more to you than I can do in an alley."

Ray took Fraser home, and that was the first night he fucked him. He laid him out on his bed and finger-fucked him for a long time first, using lots of lube and patience, until Fraser was moaning helplessly and clutching at the sheets and saying, over and over again, "Please, just - please, Ray."

And then Ray, who had been hard since the alley, dragged Fraser up to kneeling and pressed his cock inside him, slow and steady and so, so fucking good. It was just the two of them alone in the dark of Ray's bedroom, the flickering of the streetlights outside creating odd shadows against the sheets as Ray pressed his mouth against Fraser's shoulder and came deep inside him, as Fraser shook and panted underneath him.

*~*~*~*~*

It stuck with Ray, that look in Fraser's eyes in the alley, and when, a week or so later, he was driving Fraser home to the Consulate after work, he deliberately took a long route that led them through some twisty backstreets. Fraser was watching him - Ray could see it out of the corner of his eye - and finally asked, "Ray, where are we going?" His tone was curious more than anything else, and Ray just shook his head and pressed down on the gas a little bit more.

He swung the Goat in a wide turn behind this warehouse down by the lakefront. It was old, abandoned, and they hadn't seen any other cars at all as they drove to it, but this was still stupid, Ray told himself as he switched the ignition off.

"This is so fucking stupid." He said it out loud, to Fraser, even as he was clicking his seatbelt open and sliding across the street to kiss Fraser hungrily.

Fraser made a startled sound, but his arms came up around Ray and his mouth opened immediately so that Ray could slide his tongue in. "So stupid," Ray muttered, as he worked open the buttons on Fraser's uniform coat.

"Yes," Fraser agreed, his voice coming out hoarse. "Come on," and he pushed Ray away and clambered into the backseat.

Ray took a breath, thanked god they'd left the wolf at the Consulate this morning, and climbed back there with him.

Fraser was all over him back there, as the setting sun through the steamed-up car windows cast everything in this orangey light. Ray wrestled with him there in the back seat, both of them too turned on to get to skin to do this logically or easily. Fraser, half out of his uniform, finally succeeded in getting Ray's jeans down around his thighs. And Ray, hard and wanting it in this queer, desperate way, scrambled on the floor for the bottle of lube he'd shoved into his jacket pocket this morning. He pressed it into Fraser's hand, and Fraser looked at him, breathing hard and his hair all messy.

"Come on," Ray said, and turned over on the seat, shoving his jeans down and off and bracing himself with one foot on the floor. "Just -"

And Fraser, god, he just did it. Lubed himself up and fucked Ray hard, right there in the backseat of the car. Just like Ray and Stella used to - except not very much at all like Ray and Stella used to. It was nothing like this, nothing at all like Ray and Fraser, old enough to know better and not caring, fucking hard in the backseat of the car where anyone could see them.

God, god, it was too fucking much, and Ray's thighs hurt from the angle, and his hands ached from bracing himself against the door, and it all felt so fucking good he thought he might die from it. Fraser's hot breath against his back, Fraser's cock driving into him over and over, finding that perfect spot each time, until Ray was crying out and coming all over the seat just like that. He hadn't even needed a hand on him, just Fraser's cock in his ass and Fraser panting his name in the humid dimness of the car.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Ray drove them home slowly that night. The sun had set as they'd been parked there, and by the time they managed to get themselves cleaned up and their clothes back on, it was fully dark out. They drove out through the deserted back roads and when they reached the main streets, everything seemed bright and loud all of a sudden - the streetlights, the passing cars, the bars and stores and shop windows.

Ray glanced over at Fraser in the passenger seat and reached his hand over to tug Fraser's out of his lap, tangle their fingers together. Fraser tilted his head, looking over at Ray, and held on.

When Ray pulled up in front of the Consulate, he left the motor running, but shifted a little in his seat so he could look at Fraser. He rested his right arm on the seat back, let his thumb trace the line of Fraser's cheek. "That was something," he said softly.

Fraser nodded slowly, his eyes on Ray. "I - yes," he said. "Had you planned that?"

Ray allowed a small smile. "Well, yeah." What with the lube in his pocket and all. "You seem to sort of like - " Ray floundered. There weren't really any words that didn't make it sound like he thought Fraser was some sort of pervert. "You liked it," he managed, lamely. Fraser sat quietly there for a second in the car, studying Ray. Finally, he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Ray's lips, there in front of the Consulate, cars speeding by right outside Ray's window. He stayed close for a moment afterwards, his hand resting on the back of Ray's neck. "I don't like missed opportunities," he said finally. "Life is short."

Something eased up inside Ray, that he hadn't even known had been all wound up. "I get that," he said, and gave Fraser one last quick kiss.

"Good." Fraser scooped his hat off the dashboard and smiled at Ray as he got out of the car.

"Hey, Fraser," Ray called, and Fraser bent down, bracing himself on the door and looking in, inquisitively. "For what it's worth, I'm for that. I'm, uh -" He scratched the back of his head. "All about opportunities, myself."

Fraser's eyes twinkled in at him. "I'm picking up on that, Ray," he said solemnly, and shut the door as Ray laughed.

Ray watched Fraser's back until the big Consulate door closed between them, then he gunned the engine and drove away grinning.

~end~

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