A Canadian Thing (Prompt 21, F/K)
A Canadian Thing
F/K, PG-13, 451 words
My prompt table
Sex wasn't something that Ray had had a whole lot of in his life. At least not with a lot of people. True, he'd been with Stella for almost twenty years, and at least until the bitter end, they were doing it quite a bit, he'd only been with a couple of people since the divorce. Amy, the curvy blonde he met out dancing and took home. Dave, the guy who was always checking him out down at the bar who had a car that was almost as nice as the GTO.
He was pretty sure, though, that if anyone on earth had had less sex when they were coming up fast on forty than him, it would be Fraser. Because women threw themselves at him, in a kind of nauseating way, everywhere they went, but Fraser always looked awkward and uncomfortable and almost, well - virginal. Even though Ray knew it wasn't true, he just couldn't picture Fraser having sex.
Well, Ray didn't seem to have much trouble picturing Fraser having sex with him, but that was neither here nor there, really.
So maybe it was just a Canadian thing or something, to hide behind that innocent crap, because the first time that Fraser leaned over during the seventh inning stretch of a Cubs game and kissed Ray, so soft and sweet it made Ray's heart ache, it seemed like Fraser might know what he was doing. Fraser pressed Ray down into the couch cushions and opened the buttons on Ray's pants before Ray could even get his mouth open to say something.
And later, after Fraser had switched off the game and led Ray into the bedroom, and proceeded to blow his mind (in more ways than one) without it even looking like he was trying, looking like it was the easiest thing in the world to take a guy apart like that, he was convinced that Fraser's virginal thing was perhaps the best acting job in history.
Ray was flat on his back, afterward, looking up at the ceiling and trying to catch his breath, and Fraser was next to him, looking smug as hell and very, very proud of himself. "So," Ray said, turning his sated and loose body toward Fraser. "Is it a Canadian thing?"
Fraser looked at him, confused, but he was also fighting the smile that was threatening to tug up the corners of his well-kissed mouth. "A Canadian thing?"
"I get it," Ray said, flopping onto his back and folding his arms behind his head, feeling satisfied and right with the world, because he'd just gotten laid. By a sneaky, sneaky Canadian. "It's a Fraser thing."
F/K, PG-13, 451 words
My prompt table
Sex wasn't something that Ray had had a whole lot of in his life. At least not with a lot of people. True, he'd been with Stella for almost twenty years, and at least until the bitter end, they were doing it quite a bit, he'd only been with a couple of people since the divorce. Amy, the curvy blonde he met out dancing and took home. Dave, the guy who was always checking him out down at the bar who had a car that was almost as nice as the GTO.
He was pretty sure, though, that if anyone on earth had had less sex when they were coming up fast on forty than him, it would be Fraser. Because women threw themselves at him, in a kind of nauseating way, everywhere they went, but Fraser always looked awkward and uncomfortable and almost, well - virginal. Even though Ray knew it wasn't true, he just couldn't picture Fraser having sex.
Well, Ray didn't seem to have much trouble picturing Fraser having sex with him, but that was neither here nor there, really.
So maybe it was just a Canadian thing or something, to hide behind that innocent crap, because the first time that Fraser leaned over during the seventh inning stretch of a Cubs game and kissed Ray, so soft and sweet it made Ray's heart ache, it seemed like Fraser might know what he was doing. Fraser pressed Ray down into the couch cushions and opened the buttons on Ray's pants before Ray could even get his mouth open to say something.
And later, after Fraser had switched off the game and led Ray into the bedroom, and proceeded to blow his mind (in more ways than one) without it even looking like he was trying, looking like it was the easiest thing in the world to take a guy apart like that, he was convinced that Fraser's virginal thing was perhaps the best acting job in history.
Ray was flat on his back, afterward, looking up at the ceiling and trying to catch his breath, and Fraser was next to him, looking smug as hell and very, very proud of himself. "So," Ray said, turning his sated and loose body toward Fraser. "Is it a Canadian thing?"
Fraser looked at him, confused, but he was also fighting the smile that was threatening to tug up the corners of his well-kissed mouth. "A Canadian thing?"
"I get it," Ray said, flopping onto his back and folding his arms behind his head, feeling satisfied and right with the world, because he'd just gotten laid. By a sneaky, sneaky Canadian. "It's a Fraser thing."