Fraser sometimes doesn't quite know what to do regarding Ray Kowalski.

Ray is open and honest; more honest than Fraser, when it comes right down to it, for all that Ray mocks Fraser's inclination towards truthfulness. Ray Kowalski wears his heart on his sleeve, and every emotion he experiences flickers across his face, is reflected in his eyes. Even when he tries to hide it, when he shuts down, Fraser can read him like words on a page.

Fraser is not like that. He is quite skilled at prevaricating, at dodging truths and putting on masks. Ray knows him better than anyone else ever has or will, and for that, Fraser feels grateful, because there is so much - so much, more than he ever imagined - that he wants and can never put voice to. And Ray - he knows everything about Fraser. Everything.

Ray is late coming home from work, and Fraser is just starting to get uneasy when he finally hears the key in the lock. Fraser turns from the sink, still wiping his hands on the dishtowel, as Ray shoves the door closed behind him with his foot, tosses his jacket aside.

Ray saunters into the kitchen. He's been in a fight, judging from his bruised cheek, his swollen knuckles, the knee torn out of his jeans. Despite all that, he clearly won whatever fight he was in, because he is thrumming, barely-repressed energy simmering in him. He's twitchy with it, patting a beat against his thigh with thumb and forefinger, and flashing Fraser a grin - a wide grin, and the look in his eyes is-dirty.

That look - the one that tells Fraser everything, every dirty, worked-up, planned-out thought that Ray has had on the way home - that one look is enough to get Fraser's face hot, enough to get his cock hard.

Ray knows what he wants, and he knows how to get it, and Fraser is not complaining.

"Hey, Frase, how was your day?"

Ray is near to bouncing as he walks towards Fraser, and Fraser has to swallow before he replies. "Apparently not as eventful as yours." Fraser forces himself to turn and remove a clean dishtowel from the drawer next to the sink before moving towards the freezer. "I'm hoping your-altercation was with a criminal and not with one of your fellow detectives."

Ray is close to him now, in his personal space by a narrow margin, and still moving restlessly. His grin gets wider, and he leans up against the refrigerator, rendering Fraser unable to open the freezer door. "I did not get into a fist-fight with Dewey, if that's what you're asking." He tilts his head and slouches further back against the refrigerator. "I did, however, beat the holy hell out of the guy Dewey lost control of when he was taking him down for processing."

"Was the gentlemen in question not handcuffed by Detective Dewey?" Fraser reaches forward and tilts Ray's head further, so he can see the bruise on his cheekbone more clearly.

Ray leans his head back cooperatively as he continues his story. "God, that loser totally took the cuffs off to let the guy go to the john. Dumbass. Ow." Ray pulls back, looking offended and pushing Fraser's hand away. "It didn't hurt that bad till you started poking at it."

"Apologies, Ray," Fraser murmurs, and tries to ignore how hard he is, how standing this close to Ray makes him want to just let go, just take Ray and just - let go. He takes a deep breath, and when he meets Ray's eyes, they are sparkling with amusement and still have that heat in them. Fraser swallows again, his throat very dry. "You-persevered?"

"Yeah." Ray leans his head to the side again, exposing the long, lean length of his throat to Fraser. "Yeah, I persevered." He drops his hand down, hooks a thumb into the pocket of his jeans. Fraser's eyes follow the movement, unable to stop himself, and he watches, mesmerized, as Ray lets his fingers run slowly, slowly over the bulge that is clear there, pressing against the denim. "I persevered in bringing the criminal element to full and complete justice."

Fraser leans closer without even noticing, and now his lips hover right by Ray's. "I -" He had to pause to wet his lips. "I think we should put ice on your cheek."

Ray breathes out a laugh, hot against his face. "I think that can wait." He stays slouched there, head tilted, watching Fraser. Waiting. He likes to do this; he enjoys pushing Fraser, tugging at him, seeing how much it takes to get Fraser to just give in to what he wants, to just take it.

Fraser holds on, here, stays close, so close, and breathes, just holding on, holding out, even though Ray is right there, hard and hot and wanting him. Ray wants to push him, wants to take him to the edge, and Fraser - a delicious heat curling up from his belly at the thought - Fraser likes being pushed. He likes holding on until he has no choice but to let go, and that moment is coming soon.

Ray - his breath coming faster, just a little, but enough that Fraser can see his pulse in his neck - Ray swallows, and Fraser breaks. Lets himself go and takes Ray's mouth, pressing him hard up against the fridge, grabbing hold of Ray's hands and dragging them up next to his head, pinning him there, while Fraser kisses him.

When Fraser moves his head, lowering his mouth to suck at Ray's throat, Ray gasps and hitches up against him, murmuring, "Yeah, yeah," against Fraser's ear.

God - when Ray is like this, grinning and so sure of himself, sure of his ability to get Fraser to the very edge and hold him there - it gets to Fraser, somehow, gets right down in the core of him and he can't - he doesn't even have the words for how it makes him feel. Primal, needy, desperate, rough. But that's not it; that's not all of it. That's not even close.

Ray is moaning, almost keening, Fraser can feel the vibrations under his lips. When he finally manages to pull himself away, he finds that he's left a mark, dark and mottled, on the base of Ray's neck.

"Fuck, Fraser." Ray is wide-eyed, breathless, his face flushed and his eyes wild. He's thrusting forward against Fraser's hip as much as he can, and Fraser can't help himself - doesn't want to, really - and moves forward to grind up against Ray, hard, feeling his own cock surging in his jeans.

"Listen," Ray is panting, his lips moving against Fraser's skin as he tries to angle himself, tries to get his hands free. Fraser's hold on them is secure, though, and Ray moans deep in his throat. "Listen, Fraser, you gotta -"

"I have to what?" Fraser's voice comes out low, and he licks Ray's temple, tasting salty sweat against his tongue. "What do I have to do, Ray?"

Ray whimpers. He's practically riding Fraser's thigh now, and Fraser's blood is pounding.

"I - you have to - Christ, Fraser, you're gonna make me come right here."

"Yes." Fraser keeps his voice steady, even though he is so sexually charged right now that he can barely see straight. "I am."

"God." Ray's voice is broken now, and Fraser is moving steadily up against him with his thigh between his legs, pressing him steadily on, and on, knowing that Ray is close, so very, very close to -

"Jesus." Ray is gasping, hot and damp, against Fraser's cheek. His eyes are shut tight, and Fraser watches him from the corner of his eye as he says again, "Oh Jesus Christ, god, fuck you, Fraser, I -" He shakes, hard, rocking his hips forward again and again as he comes in his pants, against Fraser's thigh.

Fraser's hands are still pinning Ray's wrists, and he lets them go. Ray lowers his arms slowly, shakily, his eyes still closed and his breath coming in smothered gasps. His lips are red and his hair is damp with sweat, and Fraser wants - he wants -

"God." Ray's eyes flutter open. "I can't believe you just did that to me."

"Mm." Fraser can't stop looking at the bruise on Ray's cheek, the beat of his pulse at the base of his throat, and lower down, the mark Fraser has left on his neck, bruising darkly now. Ray is slumped there, looking used, spent, and Fraser wants so very badly -

"C'mere," Ray says, his voice rough, gravelly, affectionate. He loops one arm around the back of Fraser's neck, drags him forward for a kiss. "You want to fuck me, yeah?"

Fraser has to swallow before he can respond. "Yes," he says thickly. "Yes, I - yes."

"Yeah." Ray nods slowly, his eyes bright. "Yeah, come on."

He lets Fraser pull him away from the fridge, push him towards the bedroom - possibly too roughly, but Ray doesn't seem to mind. Lets Fraser strip him out of his damp jeans, his sweaty t-shirt. He watches Fraser strip down, himself, and then just lies there on the bed, waiting. He doesn't tease or poke fun when Fraser - desperate though he is, his cock a heavy weight between his legs - has to pause, has to run his hands lightly over the bruise on Ray's side, his fingers around Ray's skinned knee. He doesn't laugh, only shivers slightly as Fraser examines his bruised knuckles, then kisses the palm of his hand.

"I'm okay." Ray's eyes are bright, and he runs one hand down Fraser's cheek. "I'm fine." He rolls over onto his stomach, and Fraser feels the breath catch in his throat at the sight before him. Ray is spread out, his skin glowing pale in the dim light of the bedside lamp, the muscles in his shoulders tense. He's waiting, wanting this - Fraser knows Ray as well as Ray knows him.

Fraser waits longer than Ray's patience can hold, for he makes an exasperated sound and pushes up onto his knees. "You think I got all day here, Fraser?" His voice is deep with amusement, and Fraser feels his lips curve into a smile as he moves forward and grasps Ray's hips.

Ray lets Fraser fuck him, lets Fraser sink into him deep, deep. He pushes back as Fraser pushes in, controlling things even here, even here on his knees in front of Fraser, his head hung down between his arms, moaning soft and steady.

Fraser wraps one arm around Ray's waist, tugging him close, and muttering words against the skin between Ray's shoulder blades, "please" and "yes" and "love." He brings his other hand, still slick with lubricant, down to circle Ray's cock, already half-hard again, Ray already wanting him again, and again, and again. Fraser strokes Ray in time to his own thrusts, pressing his forehead against Ray's back, and trying to hold on.

"Please," Ray says, his hands clenching desperately, as Fraser finds the angle he's been looking for. Ray's cock is fully hard in his hand, now. "Please, oh god, please." Ray is panting, open-mouthed, tilting forward to press his head against the pillows, and he is begging for it.

Fraser slides into him over and over, his own mind sharply focused, as it gets when his orgasm looms closer; everything fades away and his whole world is narrowed to the feel of Ray's skin under his hands, the slide of his cock into the heat of Ray's body, the pounding of his heart as he moves forward again and again, fucking Ray.

"Fraser." Ray's voice is muffled, strangled, and his cock feels huge in Fraser's hand as he strokes it, squeezes it, urges Ray on. "God. God. Come on. Come on, Fraser."

He's insisting, holding on here, driving back against Fraser. "You - you -"

Fraser bites his lip and shuts his eyes, and in one thrust - two - three - he stays there, deep inside of Ray, and then his orgasm crashes over him. He's shaking, trembling, coming deep inside of Ray.

He's unaware of anything, until Ray's hand knocks his own away. "Oh god." Ray has desperately taken over stroking his own cock. He's still on his knees, head bowed, Fraser kneeling behind him, holding on tight to Ray's hips. "Oh god, oh god." Ray is panting, his hand moving frantically. "God, so hot, so fucking, fucking hot, I just -"

He gasps, and Fraser - softening inside of Ray's body - can feel him coming, and it sends another shudder through his own body, a faint echo of orgasm.

Then Ray collapses beneath him. Fraser slips out abruptly, hisses at the loss, then lowers himself carefully beside Ray. Ray has his face half-turned into the covers as he catches his breath. "Man," he says finally, groaning as he rolls onto his back. "I am done." He waves one weary hand in Fraser's direction. "You did it. You've killed me. Say goodbye to my mom for me."

Fraser catches Ray's hand, kisses his fingers. "You seem quite active for a dead man."

Ray's got his eyes shut, but he's grinning. "Not for long. I'm gone. Really, this time."

"Mm." Fraser stretches and sits up, watching as Ray's eyes pop open suddenly. "Also, I'm starving. Let's order in."

"I could cook something -" Fraser offers, but Ray is shaking his head slowly as he pushes himself up on one elbow.

"We could eat in bed." He's running his hand down Fraser's arm and smiling wickedly.

"You're incorrigible." Fraser is trying not to grin back, but from the look in Ray's eyes, he's failing.

"Yeah, and hungry." Ray slouches back again, tucking his hands behind his head. "If you order in, we could stay in bed all night."

"There'd be crumbs," Fraser murmurs, but he's leaning forward to kiss Ray's mouth, Ray tilting his head up to allow it.

"Fuck the crumbs," Ray says against his lips.

"And you need ice on your face." Fraser pulls back a little, traces around Ray's bruise with his fingers again; he can't help it.

"You can get me that." Ray settles back comfortably on the bed. "Just grab the bag of peas from the freezer."

Fraser gives him a look.

"Come on! I'll cook!" Ray grabs the phone from the nightstand, giving Fraser a maddening grin as he dials the pizza shop from memory.

Fraser lifts an eyebrow at him, then gives in. Dinner in bed with Ray Kowalski - he can't argue the merits of that, now, can he?

He rolls off the bed and heads to the kitchen.

~end~

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