Probe, by Voiceless009 for lipstickcat
Title: Probe
Author: Voiceless009
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Rating: PG-13
Prompter and prompt: lipstickcat prompted: In "Seeing is Believing", after everyone has awoken from being hypnotised, Fraser tells Ray "Well, it would appear that you were abducted by aliens at the of ten."...
Warnings: If bad language needs a warning...
Ray was going nuts. Correction: Ray was being driven, slowly, nuts. Specifics? Benton Fraser was driving Ray nuts at a steady and unrelenting pace. Conclusion: Benton Fraser was the most annoyingly persistent son of a bitch Ray had ever come into contact with. And he’d lived with a lawyer for most of his adult life, for chrissakes.
“Fraser, will you just leave it alone?” Ray snapped, the rancour not fully coming across due to the whole not being able to look the guy in the face thing. Well, jeez. He had those puppy dog eyes that no one over the age of fourteen should rightfully have and he was a sneaky bastard with his little flashes of hurt and his…well, his… Ray sighed. “I’m sorry. I just… you know?”
“I understand, Ray. And I apologise.” Fraser was probably nodding; probably looking appropriately contrite. Ray wouldn’t know, he still wasn’t looking. Fifty bucks Fraser was still in puppy-dog mode and, fine, he might be able to wrangle an apology out of Ray but that was where it stopped, damn it.
If he’d known the kind of torture he’d have to endure, Ray would never have agreed to the whole hypnosis thing. It was one thing, putting yourself out there, letting a person see you, question you when you’re at your most vulnerable. But, if he’d thought for a second that the interrogation wouldn’t end there, there would just have been no way.
“I must confess,” Fraser had said as they were leaving the station, the case all wrapped up and Johnny Maigot in jail where he was already, no doubt, making lots of interesting new friends, “I find it rather exciting.”
“What?” Ray had asked. Big mistake. Showed he hadn’t been listening to the conversation that Fraser had been carrying on with him for the past few minutes.
“Ray, you told me you were abducted by aliens at the age of ten. Surely you understand that it is at the very least interesting--”
“Aw, come on, Fraser. Alien abduction? Even you have enough sense to smell the bullshit on that one.”
Then, the eyebrow rub. God, Ray hated the eyebrow rub. Good things never followed it. “Well, Ray, you see…that’s the thing about hypnosis. You were in a state of total vulnerability. Had I asked you anything, you would have told me. Your defences were all down, no impulse to lie. Which only leaves the--”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Ray had just wanted off this train wreck in the making N.O.W. “So, I wasn’t lying. Can it just be that I don’t want to talk about it? Can it just be that?”
Fraser’s face had taken on that wide-eyed, disappointed look that never failed to make a guy feel ashamed, even if he didn’t know what for, and he had tilted his head as if to say Of course, Ray.
That had been two days ago and, as it turned out, apparently Canadians just didn’t grasp the concept of leaving things alone. Or maybe it was just a Mountie thing. Whatever. It was irritating as hell either way. Ray, I was just wondering… and Ray, I know you said not to bring this up again, but… and, quite frankly, it was the rudest thing he’d ever known Fraser to do, which added an element of enjoyment, sure, but not nearly enough to let it go on.
It was kind of funny because, as pissed off as Ray was, he could tell he was driving Fraser nuts, too. The way Ray got with a perp that wouldn’t talk -- Fraser was exactly the same here. In terms of the frustration he was so obviously feeling, not all the long, sad glances and cleverly-disguised-as-aloofness sulks in between each time he broached the subject. Probably, if Fraser used this kind of material on a criminal, they’d crack open in six minutes, tops. Clinging to Ray’s leg, moaning, “Make the Mountie talk to me!”
Today, Ray was feeling particularly close to the edge. His shoulders were set in all kinds of complicated knots and his jaw was aching with all the clenching it was doing. This handbasket was on an express line to Hell and things were getting a little too tense right here. Ray didn’t want to smack Fraser, but one swift punch would shut him up so effectively and Ray’s nerves were completely undone and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hang on to this resolve not to settle things with violence and… Ray sighed. Okay, he was a jerk.
“Oh, Ray--” An inquisitive head suddenly popped around the door (yes, Ray was seeking refuge in the storage closest, what of it?) and he couldn’t quite hold back the involuntary scream of exasperation. He settled for muffling it in his arm and stomping out straight past his red tormentor.
“Ray!” Fraser called breezily, as if he hadn’t just witnessed his partner trying his level best to ignore the fuck out of him.
“I’m going to take a slash, Fraser! Is that okay with you? Can I go take a piss in peace, at least?” Ray yelled back over his shoulder, ignoring the fact that the whole room chose that moment to grow eerily silent, ignoring the many looks that were now focussed in his direction, ignoring Frannie’s muttered “TMI, Ray. Look the phrase up sometime,” as he passed her.
The bathroom was empty, at least. Viciously twisting the cold tap, Ray splashed some water on his face, looked into the mirror, and tried to pretend the many lines that hadn’t been there ten years before were purely from laughter. Like hell. He could pick out a few that had developed over the past couple of months. He ran a finger along one long crease in the middle of his forehead and wondered if that was one that Fraser had given him. It wasn’t such an awful thought. Actually, it was kinda nice. Like Fraser had left this mark on him for everyone to see, but for only Ray to understand. There was something very right about that.
Maybe he should cut the guy some slack. He hadn’t taken him aside and explained quietly and po-lite-ly that he didn’t feel comfortable talking about…what Fraser wanted to talk about…since yesterday afternoon. After all, Fraser was a Mountie. He was-- well, he was Fraser. He was the understanding, accommodating one. Sooner or later the words would penetrate, right? In spite of all the conflict, Ray had never met a nicer gu--
“Ah, Ray. I wondered if I might have a word with you.”
With a startled yelp, Ray spun around to meet a guileless half-smile. His heart, having just tried to jump out of his throat, was calming itself down as Ray wrenched the faucet into the off position and once again considered how much it sucked, glaring knives at a man who seriously had no clue when he was being an unbearable shit.
“What the hell? You followed me into the bathroom? Do you have no sense of-- of personal-- whatever?” Ray wiped his hands on his jeans with much (justified, surely) anger.
“My apologies.” Fraser didn’t sound too goddamned sorry. “It just occurred to me that perhaps your reluctance to talk about this could stem from the belief that you will be in some way…mocked or derided. I wanted to assure you that I will listen to whatever you have to say with open ears and an open mind, if--”
“Yeah, or maybe my reluctance stems from the belief that this whole thing is none of your damn business, Fraser!”
Yikes. That was loud. And harsh. Fraser’s eyes flickered down to the floor, then back up at Ray, then away again. He cleared his throat. “Yes, well. Right you are, Ray. It…it really isn’t…well. It’s not my place to…” And Ray was a shit. Apology time, Kowalski, and make it good. He opened his mouth, but before the first syllable could made its way out, Fraser looked up and blurted, “Still, Ray, I would very much like to know. The very nature of an interview under hypnosis means that untruths are not an issue. It takes a very special individual to being able to trick their subconscious into lying, and even then…well… Ray, this can only mean that you really have, or believe you have had contact with an extra-terrestrial form of--”
“Oh my god, Fraser.” Ray slumped back against the row of sinks, totally drained and suddenly not remembering why he didn’t just tell Fraser everything and get this crap to stop. “Can we please turn off the X-Files episode going on in your head? I wasn’t abducted by aliens!”
“Ah,” Fraser licked his bottom lip, worried at it with his teeth for a moment, before tilting his head to the side, puppy style. “Perhaps it is a repressed memory. You told me that--”
“Right, okay. Let’s start there. What exactly did I say?”
Fraser thought for a moment. “Well, I wanted to test that you were under far enough, so I asked you a simple question; I asked you to tell me your most prominent childhood memory.”
Ray closed his eyes. He heard Fraser take a step towards him and waved his hand, telling Fraser to back off and indicating he should continue.
“I confess, I don’t quite remember your exact words.” Fraser paused, then reprimanded, “You were muttering throughout the entire interrogation.” It took all of Ray’s willpower to let that slide, but now they were actually doing this he just wanted to get it over with, so he let Fraser go on. “You told me the story as if you, yourself, were finding it difficult to recall the details. You said you were in darkness, then suddenly you were blinded by a bright light and overcome with this odd sensation--”
“It felt like I was being pulled upwards by my chest. I remember that bit.” Ray nodded slowly. “And when I could see again I was in some kinda screwed up room. It was all white and round, like…like a padded cell. That’s what I said, right?”
“Yes.” Fraser rewarded Ray with his We’re Making Good Progress smile. Ray felt pretty bad that he was going to wipe that look right away in a second. “You said you couldn’t move, like you were strapped down.”
“It must’ve been a metal table or something, ‘cause it was cold against my back.”
“Right! And there stood a group of tall grey shadows--”
“Men.”
“--Men looming over you.” Fraser’s voice was increasing in tempo and, jeez, the guy was really keyed up over this. “And you felt them…well…you…”
And then he felt them spread his legs and a moment later he was being invaded by a thin, steel rod. “I was probed.” Ray finished for Fraser, for once not enjoying watching the guy grapple with a blush.
“Yes.” Fraser nodded weakly, looking equal parts embarrassed and excited. Fraser The Alien Hunter was pretty new, but already he seemed to fit right in with Super Mountie and Benton The Clueless Chick Magnet.
There was silence between the two of them for some time, Fraser staring penetratingly at Ray and Ray staring right the fuck back, god damn it. One of the beat cops whose name neither of them had ever learnt came through the door, took in the scene, and then walked straight back out again. Apparently the tension in the bathroom was evident to more people than just Ray and Fraser.
“Sounds about right.” Ray said after a while. “It’s kinda funny, ‘cause I never knew you could remember so much of a dream after so many years. It’s good to know. Thanks, Fraser.”
As realisation settled over Fraser’s face, Ray tried to crack a smile. But, man, this was one of the scariest things he’d done in a long time and if he didn’t play it right…well…it would be bad. Really, he could back out now, but enough was enough and Ray was ready to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help him God.
“I see. Well, I don’t see why you couldn’t have just told me this before. Surely you grew tired of seeing me make a fool out of myself by the end of the first day?” There was a real pissed off edge to Fraser’s voice but it disappeared in an instant; probably once he noticed the lack of a satisfied smirk on Ray’s face. “You needn’t be embarrassed, Ray. Often, nightmares that we have as children go on to affect us, in either small or large ways, for the rest of our lives.”
Ray sighed and turned to the long mirror, choosing to look at Fraser through that than directly in the eye. “It was my first wet dream, okay?”
He closed his eyes then, not needing to see Fraser to know he was floundering. The ball was in the Mountie’s court now, and Ray could only hope for a positive outcome. Maybe this would be one of those times they’d look back on in a few years’ time and laugh over. Maybe this spelled the end of the possibility of ‘a few years later’ for them.
“Still.” Fraser attempted. “As those…those things go, it sounds like a rather…well, for want of a better word, a traumatising dream for a child to have.”
He really wasn’t getting it.
“No shit, Fraser. I know traumatising, okay? I think I’d liked to have had a little more than ten years in this world before finding out I was gay.”
“But, I thought…Stella…” Fraser rubbed at an eyebrow. He really seemed to be having a problem understanding this.
“Fine. Bisexual. Whatever you want to call it.” Ray snapped.
“Ray, still, I hardly think that one childhood dream is enough to set one’s sexual preference in stone. Everyone, at some point in their life, will have dreams that--” Was he actually trying to tell Ray that he was wrong? It was like coming out to his parents all over again. Except without the yelling and tears and the promises that this was the last time he would ever be calling them to try and rebuild the bridges.
“You’re a pain in the ass.” Ray informed Fraser, before he kissed him. He needed him to see. No one else got it, got him, but Fraser just might. He tried to communicate through the kiss. When his tongue was sliding into that hot, slick mouth, Ray was saying Here I am. The dream had been the first sign, but Ray had come a long way since then, with the dreams he’d always hate himself for (the ones where, after he’d just sucked some featureless guy in an indistinct room, he’d wake up next to Stella and kiss her neck until she pushed her hips back against him, and he’d bury himself in her and try to forget that he was such a terrible husband) and the many one night stands he’d indulged in ever since the divorce came through.
Rather than pull away or remain still, Fraser surprised the hell out of Ray by quite readily kissing him back. His hands grasped at Ray’s waist and he tilted his head hesitantly to make things easier, like they were nervous teenagers and this was the end of a date. When the fact that they were actually sucking face in the men’s bathroom at his place of work hit Ray, he backed off and even had to put his hands on Fraser’s shoulders to halt his attempts to reconnect their mouths.
He meant to say: We can’t do this here, or, What the hell was that? Something to that effect. However, what he actually said, in a voice that would have been smug if it wasn’t so breathless, “I’m bent, okay?”
“Yes, I know, Ray,” Fraser replied in a tone that to Ray said Duh. “I was twenty-two.”
And there was a hell of a non sequitur if ever he heard one. And the fact that he could use ‘non sequitur’ in a sentence was just frightening.
Oh my god. Ray rubbed the bridge of his nose. Canadian’s contagious.
“When you were twenty-two what?”
“I knew I was gay.”
Now, way too many times in his life, Ray had been left with literally nothing to say. Stella asked him to marry her, his dad told him to get the hell out of his house if he couldn’t respect his wishes, Stella asked him for a divorce, Welsh told him that while he was working here he’d be partnered with a crazy Mountie whose hobbies included telling long stories that he seemed to think made sense and risking life and limb on a daily basis. Each time, Ray had been caught on that thin line between believing and wanting to laugh out loud because it was obviously a joke.
Add another one to the list.
“You’re gay?”
“I am, indeed.” Fraser nodded like he was reporting to the Ice Queen or something.
“But, you-- I thought you-- I figured--” Oh, lord, somebody had stolen Ray’s brain and left a cantaloupe in its place.
“Bisexual, then. Whatever you want to call it.” Fraser’s mouth turned up ever so slightly into what Ray had recently identified as his mischievous look. However, apparently realising that Ray had nothing more to add to the conversation, Fraser continued, “It seems you were a little, ah, ‘quicker on the uptake’. A whole twelve years ahead of me.”
By the time Ray had finally managed to collect his thoughts and had his next words all fixed in his head, he noticed that Fraser was no longer half-smiling in that vaguely impish way. His shoulders were slumped (only by a tiny bit, but when it was Fraser’s shoulders, it wasn’t hard to notice), though most definitely not in relief or relaxation or any other of the good ways. Ray gave himself a mental slap to the head.
“Well, what do you expect? I am the smart one, after all. You’re just the eye candy.” When in doubt, crack a lame joke.
Fraser stared at Ray for an impossibly long moment before, without any warning, he started laughing. Then, with even less warning, he pulled Ray in and kissed him. Once again, Ray was forced to play the party pooper, drawing back and warning that they weren’t exactly in the best place for this. “But, hey. After work, you wanna come back to my place? We can pick up some food on the way.”
“And perhaps drop Diefenbaker back at the Consulate?”
Ray snorted. “He won’t like that.”
“He’ll thank us for it in the long run.” Fraser’s voice was deep, the implications pretty clear, and Ray grinned his gettin’-some-tonight grin.
“Ohh, yeah.” He pushed away from the sink counter and gestured to the door. “This is gonna be good, Fraser.” He let Fraser go first, then followed him out into the bullpen. “This is gonna be great. I can feel it.”
--End--
...
“I look forward to probing you, too, Ray.”
Please forgive any errors or...lack of quality. I'm catching a plane in a few hours and I figured if I didn't post this as it is, without beta, then you wouldn't get it for a whole 'nother week. I hope this lived up to any expectations you may have had.
Author: Voiceless009
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Rating: PG-13
Prompter and prompt: lipstickcat prompted: In "Seeing is Believing", after everyone has awoken from being hypnotised, Fraser tells Ray "Well, it would appear that you were abducted by aliens at the of ten."...
Warnings: If bad language needs a warning...
Ray was going nuts. Correction: Ray was being driven, slowly, nuts. Specifics? Benton Fraser was driving Ray nuts at a steady and unrelenting pace. Conclusion: Benton Fraser was the most annoyingly persistent son of a bitch Ray had ever come into contact with. And he’d lived with a lawyer for most of his adult life, for chrissakes.
“Fraser, will you just leave it alone?” Ray snapped, the rancour not fully coming across due to the whole not being able to look the guy in the face thing. Well, jeez. He had those puppy dog eyes that no one over the age of fourteen should rightfully have and he was a sneaky bastard with his little flashes of hurt and his…well, his… Ray sighed. “I’m sorry. I just… you know?”
“I understand, Ray. And I apologise.” Fraser was probably nodding; probably looking appropriately contrite. Ray wouldn’t know, he still wasn’t looking. Fifty bucks Fraser was still in puppy-dog mode and, fine, he might be able to wrangle an apology out of Ray but that was where it stopped, damn it.
If he’d known the kind of torture he’d have to endure, Ray would never have agreed to the whole hypnosis thing. It was one thing, putting yourself out there, letting a person see you, question you when you’re at your most vulnerable. But, if he’d thought for a second that the interrogation wouldn’t end there, there would just have been no way.
“I must confess,” Fraser had said as they were leaving the station, the case all wrapped up and Johnny Maigot in jail where he was already, no doubt, making lots of interesting new friends, “I find it rather exciting.”
“What?” Ray had asked. Big mistake. Showed he hadn’t been listening to the conversation that Fraser had been carrying on with him for the past few minutes.
“Ray, you told me you were abducted by aliens at the age of ten. Surely you understand that it is at the very least interesting--”
“Aw, come on, Fraser. Alien abduction? Even you have enough sense to smell the bullshit on that one.”
Then, the eyebrow rub. God, Ray hated the eyebrow rub. Good things never followed it. “Well, Ray, you see…that’s the thing about hypnosis. You were in a state of total vulnerability. Had I asked you anything, you would have told me. Your defences were all down, no impulse to lie. Which only leaves the--”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Ray had just wanted off this train wreck in the making N.O.W. “So, I wasn’t lying. Can it just be that I don’t want to talk about it? Can it just be that?”
Fraser’s face had taken on that wide-eyed, disappointed look that never failed to make a guy feel ashamed, even if he didn’t know what for, and he had tilted his head as if to say Of course, Ray.
That had been two days ago and, as it turned out, apparently Canadians just didn’t grasp the concept of leaving things alone. Or maybe it was just a Mountie thing. Whatever. It was irritating as hell either way. Ray, I was just wondering… and Ray, I know you said not to bring this up again, but… and, quite frankly, it was the rudest thing he’d ever known Fraser to do, which added an element of enjoyment, sure, but not nearly enough to let it go on.
It was kind of funny because, as pissed off as Ray was, he could tell he was driving Fraser nuts, too. The way Ray got with a perp that wouldn’t talk -- Fraser was exactly the same here. In terms of the frustration he was so obviously feeling, not all the long, sad glances and cleverly-disguised-as-aloofness sulks in between each time he broached the subject. Probably, if Fraser used this kind of material on a criminal, they’d crack open in six minutes, tops. Clinging to Ray’s leg, moaning, “Make the Mountie talk to me!”
Today, Ray was feeling particularly close to the edge. His shoulders were set in all kinds of complicated knots and his jaw was aching with all the clenching it was doing. This handbasket was on an express line to Hell and things were getting a little too tense right here. Ray didn’t want to smack Fraser, but one swift punch would shut him up so effectively and Ray’s nerves were completely undone and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hang on to this resolve not to settle things with violence and… Ray sighed. Okay, he was a jerk.
“Oh, Ray--” An inquisitive head suddenly popped around the door (yes, Ray was seeking refuge in the storage closest, what of it?) and he couldn’t quite hold back the involuntary scream of exasperation. He settled for muffling it in his arm and stomping out straight past his red tormentor.
“Ray!” Fraser called breezily, as if he hadn’t just witnessed his partner trying his level best to ignore the fuck out of him.
“I’m going to take a slash, Fraser! Is that okay with you? Can I go take a piss in peace, at least?” Ray yelled back over his shoulder, ignoring the fact that the whole room chose that moment to grow eerily silent, ignoring the many looks that were now focussed in his direction, ignoring Frannie’s muttered “TMI, Ray. Look the phrase up sometime,” as he passed her.
The bathroom was empty, at least. Viciously twisting the cold tap, Ray splashed some water on his face, looked into the mirror, and tried to pretend the many lines that hadn’t been there ten years before were purely from laughter. Like hell. He could pick out a few that had developed over the past couple of months. He ran a finger along one long crease in the middle of his forehead and wondered if that was one that Fraser had given him. It wasn’t such an awful thought. Actually, it was kinda nice. Like Fraser had left this mark on him for everyone to see, but for only Ray to understand. There was something very right about that.
Maybe he should cut the guy some slack. He hadn’t taken him aside and explained quietly and po-lite-ly that he didn’t feel comfortable talking about…what Fraser wanted to talk about…since yesterday afternoon. After all, Fraser was a Mountie. He was-- well, he was Fraser. He was the understanding, accommodating one. Sooner or later the words would penetrate, right? In spite of all the conflict, Ray had never met a nicer gu--
“Ah, Ray. I wondered if I might have a word with you.”
With a startled yelp, Ray spun around to meet a guileless half-smile. His heart, having just tried to jump out of his throat, was calming itself down as Ray wrenched the faucet into the off position and once again considered how much it sucked, glaring knives at a man who seriously had no clue when he was being an unbearable shit.
“What the hell? You followed me into the bathroom? Do you have no sense of-- of personal-- whatever?” Ray wiped his hands on his jeans with much (justified, surely) anger.
“My apologies.” Fraser didn’t sound too goddamned sorry. “It just occurred to me that perhaps your reluctance to talk about this could stem from the belief that you will be in some way…mocked or derided. I wanted to assure you that I will listen to whatever you have to say with open ears and an open mind, if--”
“Yeah, or maybe my reluctance stems from the belief that this whole thing is none of your damn business, Fraser!”
Yikes. That was loud. And harsh. Fraser’s eyes flickered down to the floor, then back up at Ray, then away again. He cleared his throat. “Yes, well. Right you are, Ray. It…it really isn’t…well. It’s not my place to…” And Ray was a shit. Apology time, Kowalski, and make it good. He opened his mouth, but before the first syllable could made its way out, Fraser looked up and blurted, “Still, Ray, I would very much like to know. The very nature of an interview under hypnosis means that untruths are not an issue. It takes a very special individual to being able to trick their subconscious into lying, and even then…well… Ray, this can only mean that you really have, or believe you have had contact with an extra-terrestrial form of--”
“Oh my god, Fraser.” Ray slumped back against the row of sinks, totally drained and suddenly not remembering why he didn’t just tell Fraser everything and get this crap to stop. “Can we please turn off the X-Files episode going on in your head? I wasn’t abducted by aliens!”
“Ah,” Fraser licked his bottom lip, worried at it with his teeth for a moment, before tilting his head to the side, puppy style. “Perhaps it is a repressed memory. You told me that--”
“Right, okay. Let’s start there. What exactly did I say?”
Fraser thought for a moment. “Well, I wanted to test that you were under far enough, so I asked you a simple question; I asked you to tell me your most prominent childhood memory.”
Ray closed his eyes. He heard Fraser take a step towards him and waved his hand, telling Fraser to back off and indicating he should continue.
“I confess, I don’t quite remember your exact words.” Fraser paused, then reprimanded, “You were muttering throughout the entire interrogation.” It took all of Ray’s willpower to let that slide, but now they were actually doing this he just wanted to get it over with, so he let Fraser go on. “You told me the story as if you, yourself, were finding it difficult to recall the details. You said you were in darkness, then suddenly you were blinded by a bright light and overcome with this odd sensation--”
“It felt like I was being pulled upwards by my chest. I remember that bit.” Ray nodded slowly. “And when I could see again I was in some kinda screwed up room. It was all white and round, like…like a padded cell. That’s what I said, right?”
“Yes.” Fraser rewarded Ray with his We’re Making Good Progress smile. Ray felt pretty bad that he was going to wipe that look right away in a second. “You said you couldn’t move, like you were strapped down.”
“It must’ve been a metal table or something, ‘cause it was cold against my back.”
“Right! And there stood a group of tall grey shadows--”
“Men.”
“--Men looming over you.” Fraser’s voice was increasing in tempo and, jeez, the guy was really keyed up over this. “And you felt them…well…you…”
And then he felt them spread his legs and a moment later he was being invaded by a thin, steel rod. “I was probed.” Ray finished for Fraser, for once not enjoying watching the guy grapple with a blush.
“Yes.” Fraser nodded weakly, looking equal parts embarrassed and excited. Fraser The Alien Hunter was pretty new, but already he seemed to fit right in with Super Mountie and Benton The Clueless Chick Magnet.
There was silence between the two of them for some time, Fraser staring penetratingly at Ray and Ray staring right the fuck back, god damn it. One of the beat cops whose name neither of them had ever learnt came through the door, took in the scene, and then walked straight back out again. Apparently the tension in the bathroom was evident to more people than just Ray and Fraser.
“Sounds about right.” Ray said after a while. “It’s kinda funny, ‘cause I never knew you could remember so much of a dream after so many years. It’s good to know. Thanks, Fraser.”
As realisation settled over Fraser’s face, Ray tried to crack a smile. But, man, this was one of the scariest things he’d done in a long time and if he didn’t play it right…well…it would be bad. Really, he could back out now, but enough was enough and Ray was ready to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help him God.
“I see. Well, I don’t see why you couldn’t have just told me this before. Surely you grew tired of seeing me make a fool out of myself by the end of the first day?” There was a real pissed off edge to Fraser’s voice but it disappeared in an instant; probably once he noticed the lack of a satisfied smirk on Ray’s face. “You needn’t be embarrassed, Ray. Often, nightmares that we have as children go on to affect us, in either small or large ways, for the rest of our lives.”
Ray sighed and turned to the long mirror, choosing to look at Fraser through that than directly in the eye. “It was my first wet dream, okay?”
He closed his eyes then, not needing to see Fraser to know he was floundering. The ball was in the Mountie’s court now, and Ray could only hope for a positive outcome. Maybe this would be one of those times they’d look back on in a few years’ time and laugh over. Maybe this spelled the end of the possibility of ‘a few years later’ for them.
“Still.” Fraser attempted. “As those…those things go, it sounds like a rather…well, for want of a better word, a traumatising dream for a child to have.”
He really wasn’t getting it.
“No shit, Fraser. I know traumatising, okay? I think I’d liked to have had a little more than ten years in this world before finding out I was gay.”
“But, I thought…Stella…” Fraser rubbed at an eyebrow. He really seemed to be having a problem understanding this.
“Fine. Bisexual. Whatever you want to call it.” Ray snapped.
“Ray, still, I hardly think that one childhood dream is enough to set one’s sexual preference in stone. Everyone, at some point in their life, will have dreams that--” Was he actually trying to tell Ray that he was wrong? It was like coming out to his parents all over again. Except without the yelling and tears and the promises that this was the last time he would ever be calling them to try and rebuild the bridges.
“You’re a pain in the ass.” Ray informed Fraser, before he kissed him. He needed him to see. No one else got it, got him, but Fraser just might. He tried to communicate through the kiss. When his tongue was sliding into that hot, slick mouth, Ray was saying Here I am. The dream had been the first sign, but Ray had come a long way since then, with the dreams he’d always hate himself for (the ones where, after he’d just sucked some featureless guy in an indistinct room, he’d wake up next to Stella and kiss her neck until she pushed her hips back against him, and he’d bury himself in her and try to forget that he was such a terrible husband) and the many one night stands he’d indulged in ever since the divorce came through.
Rather than pull away or remain still, Fraser surprised the hell out of Ray by quite readily kissing him back. His hands grasped at Ray’s waist and he tilted his head hesitantly to make things easier, like they were nervous teenagers and this was the end of a date. When the fact that they were actually sucking face in the men’s bathroom at his place of work hit Ray, he backed off and even had to put his hands on Fraser’s shoulders to halt his attempts to reconnect their mouths.
He meant to say: We can’t do this here, or, What the hell was that? Something to that effect. However, what he actually said, in a voice that would have been smug if it wasn’t so breathless, “I’m bent, okay?”
“Yes, I know, Ray,” Fraser replied in a tone that to Ray said Duh. “I was twenty-two.”
And there was a hell of a non sequitur if ever he heard one. And the fact that he could use ‘non sequitur’ in a sentence was just frightening.
Oh my god. Ray rubbed the bridge of his nose. Canadian’s contagious.
“When you were twenty-two what?”
“I knew I was gay.”
Now, way too many times in his life, Ray had been left with literally nothing to say. Stella asked him to marry her, his dad told him to get the hell out of his house if he couldn’t respect his wishes, Stella asked him for a divorce, Welsh told him that while he was working here he’d be partnered with a crazy Mountie whose hobbies included telling long stories that he seemed to think made sense and risking life and limb on a daily basis. Each time, Ray had been caught on that thin line between believing and wanting to laugh out loud because it was obviously a joke.
Add another one to the list.
“You’re gay?”
“I am, indeed.” Fraser nodded like he was reporting to the Ice Queen or something.
“But, you-- I thought you-- I figured--” Oh, lord, somebody had stolen Ray’s brain and left a cantaloupe in its place.
“Bisexual, then. Whatever you want to call it.” Fraser’s mouth turned up ever so slightly into what Ray had recently identified as his mischievous look. However, apparently realising that Ray had nothing more to add to the conversation, Fraser continued, “It seems you were a little, ah, ‘quicker on the uptake’. A whole twelve years ahead of me.”
By the time Ray had finally managed to collect his thoughts and had his next words all fixed in his head, he noticed that Fraser was no longer half-smiling in that vaguely impish way. His shoulders were slumped (only by a tiny bit, but when it was Fraser’s shoulders, it wasn’t hard to notice), though most definitely not in relief or relaxation or any other of the good ways. Ray gave himself a mental slap to the head.
“Well, what do you expect? I am the smart one, after all. You’re just the eye candy.” When in doubt, crack a lame joke.
Fraser stared at Ray for an impossibly long moment before, without any warning, he started laughing. Then, with even less warning, he pulled Ray in and kissed him. Once again, Ray was forced to play the party pooper, drawing back and warning that they weren’t exactly in the best place for this. “But, hey. After work, you wanna come back to my place? We can pick up some food on the way.”
“And perhaps drop Diefenbaker back at the Consulate?”
Ray snorted. “He won’t like that.”
“He’ll thank us for it in the long run.” Fraser’s voice was deep, the implications pretty clear, and Ray grinned his gettin’-some-tonight grin.
“Ohh, yeah.” He pushed away from the sink counter and gestured to the door. “This is gonna be good, Fraser.” He let Fraser go first, then followed him out into the bullpen. “This is gonna be great. I can feel it.”
--End--
...
“I look forward to probing you, too, Ray.”
Please forgive any errors or...lack of quality. I'm catching a plane in a few hours and I figured if I didn't post this as it is, without beta, then you wouldn't get it for a whole 'nother week. I hope this lived up to any expectations you may have had.