For buzzylittleb by Pocketmouse
Exercise
by pocketmouse
Special thanks to my two wonderful last-minute betas, aukestrel and xtricks. Also to aerye, for running all this, and dealing with my last-minute lameness.
Much apologies for the lack of llamas and Dead Bob, hon, I did think up a story with an actual plot and everything, but it got way too complex to finish on time. But when it is finished, it's all yours.
Ray had never thought about it until Fraser moved in with him, but Fraser exercised a lot. Hell, he had to keep in shape somehow for all those chases through, over, and around warehouses. Ray considered that his exercise, but he should have realized Fraser must have had something in mind that constituted exercise besides city-made obstacle courses. Hell, he probably had a whole fucking regiment.
Well, Ray found out soon enough. The third time Fraser stayed the night, in fact. (Well, the third time Fraser stayed the night and didn’t take off almost before Ray was awake.) It was a quarter to stupid or something and the fucking sun wasn’t even up yet, just a dim glow in the air trying to beat out the streetlights. Ray never thought he’d see 5:30 AM from this side of waking up, but he had to get down to the docks by six to meet with a snitch, or he might not have a snitch to meet with.
He stumbled into the kitchen, semi-consciously moving around the various objects lying on the floor, seeking the coffee machine on autopilot. It wasn’t until his squint-eyed vision cleared a little that he realized one of those objects on the floor was actually Fraser. He set down the coffee pot next to the sink, and leaned over the counter, trying to get a better look. All he could see was part of an elbow, disappearing and reappearing as Fraser moved on the floor.
Then, in one fluid motion, Fraser stood upright, standing between the couch and the coffee table, which he must have moved out of the way. Ray pulled back, still gripping the counter, and blinked.
“Good morning, Ray.” Fraser smiled at him, not even a little out of breath. His chest rose and fell, easily defined by the wifebeater that clung to his skin, following the lines of his muscles. Ray dragged his eyes upward. Fraser’s hair was tousled, hanging over his forehead, barely too short to be in his eyes.
“Hey.” His mouth felt dry. He remembered the coffee then, and pulled away a little to fill the pot with water. Fortunately, he had a lot of practice making coffee without actually paying attention.
Fraser popped out of sight again, and when Ray leaned forward this time, it looked, from the curve of Fraser’s ankles, like he was doing pushups.
Ray burned his tongue on his coffee, and resolved to get up earlier more often.
-----
Since that first time, there have been a few opportunities for Ray to sneak a peek at Fraser while he’s exercising. Not as many as he’d like, because even with the perfect motivation, it’s damn hard to get up at the ass-crack of dawn, especially if you’re not the Energizer Mountie.
He doesn’t know why he tries to hide it, but he does - sneaking a glance here and there, watching from doorways or around corners. He doesn’t know if Fraser knows he’s there, or even why Ray seems to think it would matter. So he just stands in the shadow of the bedroom doorway, watching the curve of Fraser’s spine through thin cloth, moving up and down, warmed by the thin morning light streaming through the curtains.
Ray slips back to bed as Fraser reaches his last rep, then goes to take Diefenbaker for a walk, closing the door with a quiet click, even though he must know he doesn’t have to worry about waking Ray.
Ray’s dick is hard.
He falls asleep for another forty-five minutes, and when he wakes up, Fraser has coffee for him, and kisses him in between sips, standing in the kitchen, fully dressed to Ray’s old boxers and stubble. It works pretty well for Ray, except sometimes he ends up picking a bad day to do it, and he ends up almost falling asleep at his desk, trying to type up his paperwork so it makes sense, instead of a mess of ‘the perp fled the sceneee, taking the infrnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnno, and if he didn’t want the land grant…’ Days like that aren’t too common, but they suck because Ray tends to fall asleep really early, before anything fun really happens, and Fraser gets all worried.
He contemplates stopping before this bad habit gets any worse for his sex life, but he decides to just switch to watching Fraser after he gets back from walking Dief instead.
-----
But then Ray starts to worry that maybe Fraser has figured it out, or maybe Fraser has decided he doesn’t like living with his own personal stalker, or something like that, when Fraser starts acting differently. Not a lot, just little things, like kind of hesitating before they go to bed, or taking Dief for more walks at night, which is not fucking useful at all.
He almost freaks when Fraser makes them both go to bed really early one night - at, like ten. The hockey game isn’t even over. Not that it was a good one, or that the Hawks had any chance of winning - but Ray stays up for hours anyway, worrying and neurotic. Fraser sleeps right through it, spooned up behind him, one arm draped over him, making weird grunting noises if Ray moves too much.
It isn’t a quiet night, either way. And not in the good way.
He doesn’t know what time it is when he manages to fall asleep, but he wakes up to Fraser’s hand on his shoulder, saying his name softly.
“Ray.”
He is confused by the look on Fraser’s face: amused, that soft grin he gets when he’s got some great secret he’s just dying to share. It’s really dim, like a rainy afternoon, but it was warm and sunny yesterday, so Ray knows that can’t be the case.
“Fraser, what…?” He tries to sit up a little, rubbing his eyes a little with the heel of his palm. A yawn cracks his mouth wide open before he can continue.
“Shh. Come on.” Fraser pulls him up, leading him out of the bedroom, and Ray follows along. He obviously didn’t get enough sleep the night before, because he feels like it’s maybe three hours later, and he tries to hide his face in Fraser’s neck, and pretend he’s not a wacko who likes to spy on his Canadian boyfriend.
At first he thinks Fraser’s dragging him out to the couch, but they’re not going in quite the right direction, so he doesn’t know where they’re going, and he’s confused when he ends up on the couch anyways. The leather is cool and it wakes him up a little. Ray takes a look at his living room through bleary eyes, then stops and scrubs his eyes some more because something’s not quite right.
The coffee table looks really far away. It’s been pushed up against the entertainment center. Taking a quick glance behind him, Ray realizes he is back up against the kitchen wall. The chairs have also been pushed around, leaving a pretty open area in the middle. It reminds him of when he’d stay up half the night dancing, but the footprints are still covered.
Good.
Ray’s feeling a little more awake now. The curtains are open, and he can see that it’s just getting light out. The sky is the kind of creamy pink color that you never get at sunset, no matter what people say about sunsets and sunrises being the same thing. Ray thinks he can hear birds chirping, but he wouldn’t bet on it. He doesn’t hear the normal city noises, at any rate.
Fraser appears in front of him then. He’s still smiling, though now he seems to be more amused at Ray than sneaky. He’s kneeling even with Ray, and he leans forward, cupping Ray’s face with his hands. Ray leans in eagerly, and Fraser kisses him, softly at first, then deeper, and suddenly Ray’s almost one hundred percent awake, because Fraser’s tongue is in his mouth, tasting hot and wet, like muscle and - Ray stops, then dives in again, exploring Fraser’s mouth carefully. Coffee. Fraser’s mouth tastes like coffee. He’s trying to process this as Fraser starts to break away, softening the kisses again to soothing teases, sucking on his lip a little and breaking it up into a lot of smaller kisses. Ray tries to follow him, but Fraser’s hands keep him still.
Fraser’s still grinning that stupid grin of his, the one that usually means they’re going to have to go chasing pig trucks through alleys or diving into dumpsters. Somehow, though, Ray doesn’t think that’s the case today. Instead Fraser’s sliding back on his haunches, and skimming out of the one thin shirt he has on. Ray’s mouth goes dry. Fraser leaves his shirt on the couch with Ray, then steps out into the open area on the floor and starts doing curls.
Ray sits there, trying to figure out what’s going on, why Fraser’s doing this, but he keeps getting distracted by the way the muscles in Fraser’s ribs and stomach move subtly under his skin, like some kind of creature just beneath the surface of the water. Fraser’s stomach is smooth, but not flat, and as he comes up again that little crease appears, not quite in the middle.
Is Fraser finally fed up with him? Ray thought maybe he was getting off on the whole spying on his boyfriend thing, but that must be wrong, because he’s getting hard fast here, and Fraser hasn’t done anything more than a couple curls, and now he’s moving on to something similar, but he’s sitting up more and twisting his shoulders, and Ray has found a whole new appreciation for Fraser’s thighs. Not just his upper thighs, which are nice and meaty, and great to brace himself on, but all the way down to where the muscle meets the knee, the line where one muscle group runs into the next. Which brings Ray’s eyes to Fraser’s knees, which aren’t the prettiest things ever, but they’re solid and dependable, which is more than Ray can say for his own.
Fraser’s calves are pretty, too. He has some great muscle tone - from all the running and jumping and snowshoeing, Ray guesses. He wants to run his hand up one of them right now, and just as he blinks and wonders why he can’t, Fraser flips over, transitioning smoothly into pushups.
Good Christ. Ray’s cock is so hard now it’s almost painful. Fraser’s skin is a warm color, flushed from the exercise and golden from the faint light streaming in the windows. Ray presses down hard on his erection through his sweats, and bites his knuckles. Fraser’s back has the same smooth contours as the rest of his body, his shoulder blades arcing up to create a gentle swell that comes and goes as he moves. Tucked into the curve of the small of his back is a tiny shadow, which Ray can recognize from here as the bullet scar; but even that is softened in this light.
He can’t stand it any longer, and almost before he’s aware of it, Ray’s off the couch and crouching over Fraser. Fraser must know he’s there, but the only reaction he gets is a rippling shudder as he runs his hand lightly down Fraser’s back, following the ridge of his spine, almost totally hidden between the layers of fat and muscle. Fraser keeps moving though, and as he goes downward once more, Ray swings one leg over Fraser, straddling him, hugging his body close but being careful to support his own weight. He lets his head rest on the juncture of Fraser’s neck and shoulder and nudges the back of Fraser’s neck as he sucks at the skin there, tasting the salt and sweat. He can feel Fraser’s pulse, strong and fast, and he bites down gently, thrusting his hips a little against Fraser’s lower back.
This time, when Fraser descends, he doesn’t get up again. He starts to roll over, though, and Ray just goes with it, lifting up just long enough for Fraser to get settled comfortably on his back, and then he’s back down again, and - surprise surprise - Fraser’s got an erection to match his own. His head arcs up, and Fraser’s kissing him hungrily, sucking and biting at his collarbone, the tendons in his neck, licking a long stripe up to his jaw, sucking again just under his ear. His hands are spread against Ray’s hips, pulling him down even as he arches into Ray, and they’re humping each other, just thrusting their cocks together and it’s only the dim realization that both of them are still fucking clothed that tears Ray away.
Fraser protests at first, but quickly catches on as Ray scrabbles at Fraser’s boxers, and makes short work of Ray’s sweatpants. The sweat has given Fraser’s body a dull sheen, and Ray tastes eagerly, pressing his mouth to the dip in Fraser’s hipbone, tracing the line down to his stomach. He can smell Fraser’s arousal now, taste it in his skin, and he wonders what it would be like with Fraser’s superior senses. Guy must have a lot more restraint than he’d given him credit for. Ray returns to his downward path, tasting the soft skin, loving the way it moves beneath his tongue, exploring the changing texture as he nears his goal.
Fraser’s cock is flushed and leaking, and Ray closes his lips over the head, rubbing his tongue over the tip as he closes his hand around the shaft, letting his thumb glide down to press against Fraser’s perineum, just a quick little tease that sends Fraser’s hips jerking up.
Fraser has started to babble, low and almost inaudible. He’s saying things like ‘yes,’ and ‘please,’ and ‘oh, Ray’ and something that might not even be fucking English. It’s all going straight to Ray’s groin, and he slides his mouth further down Fraser’s dick, taking in as much as he can, trying to relax his muscles, and telling his throat to just go with it. Ray can tell he’s doing his job right because Fraser’s babbling has increased in pitch now, Ray can’t even tell what he’s saying, but Fraser’s hands are fisting, pushing against the floor in time with the shallow thrust of his hips, so whatever it is must translate to ‘yes, yes, holyfuckingyes.’
Ray pulls away, licking his lips to find every last trace of Fraser. The sight of Fraser, spread out on the floor, hips canted, one knee bent, chest heaving and glistening, dotted here and there with red marks from Ray’s lips and teeth, nearly makes him come right then. Fraser’s eyes are closed, his head to one side and his neck arched back.
“Ray…”
Ray nods, even though Fraser can’t see it, and leans back in, slower now, tonguing Fraser’s balls, one at a time, feeling the way Fraser is just radiating so much heat, hearing his ragged breathing gasp and catch as Ray strokes along a particularly sensitive spot. Fraser’s whole body is trembling, and Ray pulls away for a second, still stroking him with one hand. Ray sucks on his fingers for a second, getting them wet, then returns to Fraser’s cock, and Fraser goes wild, fucking his face as Ray strokes him from the inside, two fingers in him almost to the hilt. It’s like Fraser’s got no control over his hips all of a sudden, and Ray just rides it out, reveling in the power of the thrusts and taking everything Fraser has to offer as he shudders and jerks and then comes.
Fraser gives a soft sigh as Ray pulls away, but then he’s pulling Ray up and rolling over at the same time so Ray is pinned under him, and he can feel Fraser’s hand as it snakes down between them, wrapping that firm, callused palm around his erection. Ray pulls Fraser closer, fingers spreading over the broad span of muscle at his shoulders. Fraser is kissing him too, trying to eat him alive, and all Ray can do is thrust harder into his hand, until he’s practically slamming his whole body forward now. It’s only the fact that Fraser has somehow managed to get one hand under Ray’s head, cradling his skull and tangling his fingers in Ray’s sleep-mussed hair, that prevents Ray from cracking his head on the hardwood floor. Fraser’s tongue is everywhere, fucking his mouth and stealing his breath away; and when Ray comes, he swears he can see spots.
The floor may be warm from all the sunlight streaming in, but it’s still too hard and uncomfortable to spend too much time there. Ray knows as soon as the rush from the orgasm wears off he’s going to regret lying there so long, so when Fraser finally stands and offers him a hand up, he takes it, leaning into Fraser and resting his chin on his shoulder. He lets Fraser guide him back to the bedroom, and falls back into the bed while Fraser disappears again. He comes back with a towel and - wonder of wonders, coffee. Ray sits up just enough to sip the coffee, holding carefully as the bed shifts with Fraser’s weight as he moves over Ray, cleaning them both off. The cloth disappears, but it probably hasn’t gone too far. As soon as Fraser looks settled, Ray shifts over to lean against him, and Fraser curls around him, one knee coming up, the opposite arm snaking down to rest just under his ribs, thumb brushing at the bony part of his hip.
“So, uh, Fraser, you…”
“It was rather hard not to notice, Ray.” Fraser’s hand sneaks lower, towards Ray’s cock, which is still soft.
Ray sets the empty coffee mug down, and rests his hand over Fraser’s, laying each finger over Fraser’s, his longer but skinnier ones moving slowly up and down. “I always noticed bodies. Always thought it was just me being all self-conscious, but it wasn’t just at the gym. It always felt weird, just… looking, like that.”
Fraser’s breath is warm against his ear. “I like it when you look at me like that. I find it… exciting.” He gives Ray’s cock a squeeze, since it’s woken up a little.
Ray squirms a bit, because he still doesn’t feel right doing it, but he’s careful because it’s never good to accidentally elbow your lover in the guts. He closes his eyes. Fraser must notice, because the big hand is gone from his cock, but before he can complain, it’s back, fumbling a bit as it wraps around Ray’s own hand, and then around his cock.
“Open your eyes, Ray.” Fraser’s voice is warm and rich, right in his ear, making Ray think of cigarettes and really good whiskey. Ray has no choice but to obey, and he’s immediately caught by the sight of Fraser’s fingers tangled around his, and he follows the line of the blunt fingertips up, seeing the veins and tendons under the thin skin of the wrist, and up higher to the lateral scar cutting across Fraser’s arm, just below the elbow. Then he’s drawn back down as Fraser begins to stroke him. Fraser is guiding their hands up and down over Ray’s cock, slowly, just enough pressure to move Ray’s fingers into a comfortable curl, and Ray lets him continue the motion, his cock perking up.
“Look up,” Fraser says then, almost a whisper, and nudges him a little with his head. Ray does, and he has to let out a little moan. It’s only across the room, but it’s fuzzy around the edges so if he squints it gets really fuzzy. But it’s him. Him and Fraser. Ray’s noticed it before - hell, he was the one who dragged all the furniture up here in the first place - but the mirror on the dresser gives a pretty good view of the bed, especially when they’re propped up like this.
Ray’s only about half lying on Fraser, so when he looks up he can see a good portion of Fraser’s chest, and most of a thigh before his leg bends and disappears under a sheet. And he can just see Fraser’s cock, in the shadows between the two of them, and he can feel it nudging against his ass as Fraser shifts a little. But he’s mostly captivated by Fraser’s hands. The left one is at his hip now, creating little valleys in his flesh as Fraser braces himself. Most of Fraser might be pale from hiding under that uniform all the time, but his hands are browner and tough, and they stand out against the white of Ray’s own skin there. And then he sees Fraser’s other hand around his own, on his cock.
Normally Ray doesn’t think his body’s anything special. Yeah, he trains, but half the time it’s to keep up with guys like Fraser. He could never be a serious tough, and he’s known since he was about thirteen that he was never really gonna have the type of body that made girls swoon. No, he was more the type that made girls snicker if he wore shorts. But here, like this, with Fraser’s hands splayed out over him, playing his body and hitting all the right notes, he could start to see things - little things, that might make someone like Fraser say ‘hey, yeah, that’s not the mark of a psychopath.’ Maybe it’s just like every other part of their duet, every other way they fit together. Because when Fraser rubs his thumb against the edge of Ray’s rib, like that, Ray’s legs open a fraction wider, settling into the V created by Fraser’s legs. And when Ray leans his head back further, the muscles in Fraser’s neck jump and tighten before Fraser leans over to bite at the soft underside of his chin, and the line of the muscle in his shoulder perfectly matches Ray’s where he reaches back to steady himself as his hips jerk again.
“Shit, Fraser,” Ray’s gasping now - he’d say breathless, but that’s a chick word, if you’re breathless, you’re dead. He gasps again as Fraser’s erection rubs against his ass again, harder this time. Then again, Fraser is kinda killing him here - just stroking him lightly, kinda teasing, but Ray’s cock is leaking and hard, like he didn’t just get off twenty minutes ago. But that’s OK, because this has got to be the hottest thing he’s seen or done all week - hell, probably longer than that. He stops bracing himself with his left hand, trusting Fraser to keep them balanced, and instead reaches down to Fraser’s cock, thrusting his hips back in little shallow motions. But he can tell almost right away it isn’t going to work, so he scrabbles back up, reaching for the lube on the nightstand.
Fraser releases him, but not for long. He sits up against the headboard, long enough for Ray to roll a condom on his erection, but when Ray tries to lean in again, Fraser shakes his head a little and places his hands on Ray’s hips, eyes glittering, and makes him turn around, so he’s facing the mirror again. Ray follows eagerly this time, and he has to press down on his balls a little to keep himself from coming right then and there. Because yeah, he can’t see much of Fraser right now, but what he does see are Fraser’s hands, strong and sure, one on his hip, curling up to the soft skin on the inside, and the other stroking below his dick; and he groans as two of those fingers slip into his ass. Fraser is slow, cautious as always, but also teasing. He strokes him shallowly at first, then works his way deeper when Ray gives a grunt, then scissors briefly, stretching the muscle before withdrawing again.
“More,” Ray gets out, trying to keep his balance and still see what Fraser’s doing. Fraser gives him two fingers again, and Ray can see them disappearing into him at the same time that he feels them, thick and blunt, but sensitive and gentle. Fraser’s more direct this time, still stretching, but he goes straight for the hot spot, stroking it and making Ray buck, and he has to wrench his eyes closed and breathe hard through clenched teeth for a moment to keep from coming.
That looks like more than enough for Fraser, who slips his fingers out and slicks up his own erection. Ray notices that his own fingers are trembling and he flexes them quickly. Then Fraser’s hand tightens on his hip, and Ray slides down onto Fraser’s cock, slowly, slowly, until he’s fully seated. Both of Fraser’s hands are on his hips now, and he can feel Fraser’s chest rising and falling behind him, and he leans back a little. They just sit there for a moment while Ray adjusts: his blood is rushing hard through his veins, his adrenaline is racing - he loves this feeling, being with Fraser like this - he feels like he’s part of Fraser, like Fraser’s part of him. Looking in the mirror, he sees that Fraser is caught up, too - his eyes are closed, his head is thrown back a little, and his mouth is open. He looks blissed-out and debauched and perfect.
Slowly Ray begins to move, watching Fraser in the mirror. His head stays thrown back, but his hands twitch here and there, guiding Ray back and forth, as he fucks himself on Fraser’s cock, riding harder and faster as Fraser’s hips start to snap too, finding a rhythm easily, rising to meet Ray every time he slams down, balls slapping against his ass, hitting his prostate just like that every time, and then Fraser’s eyes open, catching his in the mirror, and Fraser’s hand - warm, callused, big - wraps around his dick and bam, that’s all she wrote, Ray’s coming like a fucking freight train, all over himself and Fraser, and his jerking hips have lost all rhythm, but Fraser doesn’t seem to care because his free hand is pulling Ray down at the same time that his hips slam up, and then Fraser’s coming too, Ray can feel it, even through the condom, and in the way Fraser’s breathing gets all stuttery and hitched, a big breath in right by his ear, then held a long moment before it’s exhaled out.
Ray practically passes out after that, because it’s all kind of a haze as Fraser finally, reluctantly pulls out and cleans them both up. The towel goes away again, but he can see where this time as Fraser tosses it in the general direction of the bathroom and the laundry hamper, but it only makes it partway before landing with a halfhearted plop. Ray manages an unsteady grin at that, but he’s too comfortable in the warm bed, with sleepiness stealing over him again, at least momentarily. He turns on his side, letting Fraser spoon up beside him, jostling the bed around a little. He smells like sweat, and sex, a little, but also that something that says ‘Fraser!’ and ‘Canada!’ to Ray. Fraser pulls him in close, wrapping one arm around him, across his chest just under his own, one leg kind of slung over as well, and it always kind of reminds Ray of puppy-piling when Fraser does this. Fraser’s forehead is resting against the back of his neck, and Ray rolls his head to the side a little, and blinks muzzily at the alarm clock.
6:27.
Blink. Blink.
6:27.
“Fraser, if you wake me up to go to work in an hour and a half, I’ll kill you, no matter how fucking good you are in bed.” His voice is muffled, and he can barely make out half the words himself, but Fraser seems to get the message.
“Don’t be silly, Ray. You’re taking a late shift today, remember? Stakeout by the docks.” Fraser speaks without moving, and his voice is just as muffled and indistinct.
“Oh.” Ray thinks about wriggling a little closer, but that seems like too much effort at this point. He just grabs at the arm Fraser has draped over him, and pulls it a little tighter. Fraser makes some sort of uninterpretable noise, but lets Ray manhandle him closer. “Well, hey, lemme know the next time you’re planning to do a little exercise, OK?”
He can feel Fraser smile into his neck, and squeeze his wrist a little before leaning in to nip quickly at his neck. “Mmmm.” Ray assumes that means yes.
If he listens hard, he can pick up the occasional traffic noise outside, and the sun is starting to move away, no longer shining right into the window. But Ray is warm enough already, with Fraser wrapped around him, and city noises are like background noise to him really, so he tunes them out. He gives half a thought to checking to see if the alarm’s set, but Fraser’s always on top of things like that, and besides, he’d rather wallow in the warmth. He brushes over Fraser’s hand softly with his thumb, but even as he’s doing that he can feel himself drifting off. He sighs a little and lets go. Funny, he feels a little lighter for some reason, but he’s not sure why. He shrugs it off, putting it down to post-sex sleepiness, and a Mountie for a radiator. He doesn’t really get it, but he’ll take it for as long as he can. Not everyday you find someone crazy enough to indulge every wacko thing wrong with you.
Fraser nudges him again, making that grunting noise, then mutters something about chickens and azaleas. Ray ignores it, and lets himself fall asleep at last, loose and relaxed and enjoying a free feeling he’s too tired and too blissed-out to ponder. Whatever it is, it can probably wait until morning. And if it’s a problem, it can wait longer. Ray’s not dealing with those right now.
by pocketmouse
Special thanks to my two wonderful last-minute betas, aukestrel and xtricks. Also to aerye, for running all this, and dealing with my last-minute lameness.
Much apologies for the lack of llamas and Dead Bob, hon, I did think up a story with an actual plot and everything, but it got way too complex to finish on time. But when it is finished, it's all yours.
Ray had never thought about it until Fraser moved in with him, but Fraser exercised a lot. Hell, he had to keep in shape somehow for all those chases through, over, and around warehouses. Ray considered that his exercise, but he should have realized Fraser must have had something in mind that constituted exercise besides city-made obstacle courses. Hell, he probably had a whole fucking regiment.
Well, Ray found out soon enough. The third time Fraser stayed the night, in fact. (Well, the third time Fraser stayed the night and didn’t take off almost before Ray was awake.) It was a quarter to stupid or something and the fucking sun wasn’t even up yet, just a dim glow in the air trying to beat out the streetlights. Ray never thought he’d see 5:30 AM from this side of waking up, but he had to get down to the docks by six to meet with a snitch, or he might not have a snitch to meet with.
He stumbled into the kitchen, semi-consciously moving around the various objects lying on the floor, seeking the coffee machine on autopilot. It wasn’t until his squint-eyed vision cleared a little that he realized one of those objects on the floor was actually Fraser. He set down the coffee pot next to the sink, and leaned over the counter, trying to get a better look. All he could see was part of an elbow, disappearing and reappearing as Fraser moved on the floor.
Then, in one fluid motion, Fraser stood upright, standing between the couch and the coffee table, which he must have moved out of the way. Ray pulled back, still gripping the counter, and blinked.
“Good morning, Ray.” Fraser smiled at him, not even a little out of breath. His chest rose and fell, easily defined by the wifebeater that clung to his skin, following the lines of his muscles. Ray dragged his eyes upward. Fraser’s hair was tousled, hanging over his forehead, barely too short to be in his eyes.
“Hey.” His mouth felt dry. He remembered the coffee then, and pulled away a little to fill the pot with water. Fortunately, he had a lot of practice making coffee without actually paying attention.
Fraser popped out of sight again, and when Ray leaned forward this time, it looked, from the curve of Fraser’s ankles, like he was doing pushups.
Ray burned his tongue on his coffee, and resolved to get up earlier more often.
-----
Since that first time, there have been a few opportunities for Ray to sneak a peek at Fraser while he’s exercising. Not as many as he’d like, because even with the perfect motivation, it’s damn hard to get up at the ass-crack of dawn, especially if you’re not the Energizer Mountie.
He doesn’t know why he tries to hide it, but he does - sneaking a glance here and there, watching from doorways or around corners. He doesn’t know if Fraser knows he’s there, or even why Ray seems to think it would matter. So he just stands in the shadow of the bedroom doorway, watching the curve of Fraser’s spine through thin cloth, moving up and down, warmed by the thin morning light streaming through the curtains.
Ray slips back to bed as Fraser reaches his last rep, then goes to take Diefenbaker for a walk, closing the door with a quiet click, even though he must know he doesn’t have to worry about waking Ray.
Ray’s dick is hard.
He falls asleep for another forty-five minutes, and when he wakes up, Fraser has coffee for him, and kisses him in between sips, standing in the kitchen, fully dressed to Ray’s old boxers and stubble. It works pretty well for Ray, except sometimes he ends up picking a bad day to do it, and he ends up almost falling asleep at his desk, trying to type up his paperwork so it makes sense, instead of a mess of ‘the perp fled the sceneee, taking the infrnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnno, and if he didn’t want the land grant…’ Days like that aren’t too common, but they suck because Ray tends to fall asleep really early, before anything fun really happens, and Fraser gets all worried.
He contemplates stopping before this bad habit gets any worse for his sex life, but he decides to just switch to watching Fraser after he gets back from walking Dief instead.
-----
But then Ray starts to worry that maybe Fraser has figured it out, or maybe Fraser has decided he doesn’t like living with his own personal stalker, or something like that, when Fraser starts acting differently. Not a lot, just little things, like kind of hesitating before they go to bed, or taking Dief for more walks at night, which is not fucking useful at all.
He almost freaks when Fraser makes them both go to bed really early one night - at, like ten. The hockey game isn’t even over. Not that it was a good one, or that the Hawks had any chance of winning - but Ray stays up for hours anyway, worrying and neurotic. Fraser sleeps right through it, spooned up behind him, one arm draped over him, making weird grunting noises if Ray moves too much.
It isn’t a quiet night, either way. And not in the good way.
He doesn’t know what time it is when he manages to fall asleep, but he wakes up to Fraser’s hand on his shoulder, saying his name softly.
“Ray.”
He is confused by the look on Fraser’s face: amused, that soft grin he gets when he’s got some great secret he’s just dying to share. It’s really dim, like a rainy afternoon, but it was warm and sunny yesterday, so Ray knows that can’t be the case.
“Fraser, what…?” He tries to sit up a little, rubbing his eyes a little with the heel of his palm. A yawn cracks his mouth wide open before he can continue.
“Shh. Come on.” Fraser pulls him up, leading him out of the bedroom, and Ray follows along. He obviously didn’t get enough sleep the night before, because he feels like it’s maybe three hours later, and he tries to hide his face in Fraser’s neck, and pretend he’s not a wacko who likes to spy on his Canadian boyfriend.
At first he thinks Fraser’s dragging him out to the couch, but they’re not going in quite the right direction, so he doesn’t know where they’re going, and he’s confused when he ends up on the couch anyways. The leather is cool and it wakes him up a little. Ray takes a look at his living room through bleary eyes, then stops and scrubs his eyes some more because something’s not quite right.
The coffee table looks really far away. It’s been pushed up against the entertainment center. Taking a quick glance behind him, Ray realizes he is back up against the kitchen wall. The chairs have also been pushed around, leaving a pretty open area in the middle. It reminds him of when he’d stay up half the night dancing, but the footprints are still covered.
Good.
Ray’s feeling a little more awake now. The curtains are open, and he can see that it’s just getting light out. The sky is the kind of creamy pink color that you never get at sunset, no matter what people say about sunsets and sunrises being the same thing. Ray thinks he can hear birds chirping, but he wouldn’t bet on it. He doesn’t hear the normal city noises, at any rate.
Fraser appears in front of him then. He’s still smiling, though now he seems to be more amused at Ray than sneaky. He’s kneeling even with Ray, and he leans forward, cupping Ray’s face with his hands. Ray leans in eagerly, and Fraser kisses him, softly at first, then deeper, and suddenly Ray’s almost one hundred percent awake, because Fraser’s tongue is in his mouth, tasting hot and wet, like muscle and - Ray stops, then dives in again, exploring Fraser’s mouth carefully. Coffee. Fraser’s mouth tastes like coffee. He’s trying to process this as Fraser starts to break away, softening the kisses again to soothing teases, sucking on his lip a little and breaking it up into a lot of smaller kisses. Ray tries to follow him, but Fraser’s hands keep him still.
Fraser’s still grinning that stupid grin of his, the one that usually means they’re going to have to go chasing pig trucks through alleys or diving into dumpsters. Somehow, though, Ray doesn’t think that’s the case today. Instead Fraser’s sliding back on his haunches, and skimming out of the one thin shirt he has on. Ray’s mouth goes dry. Fraser leaves his shirt on the couch with Ray, then steps out into the open area on the floor and starts doing curls.
Ray sits there, trying to figure out what’s going on, why Fraser’s doing this, but he keeps getting distracted by the way the muscles in Fraser’s ribs and stomach move subtly under his skin, like some kind of creature just beneath the surface of the water. Fraser’s stomach is smooth, but not flat, and as he comes up again that little crease appears, not quite in the middle.
Is Fraser finally fed up with him? Ray thought maybe he was getting off on the whole spying on his boyfriend thing, but that must be wrong, because he’s getting hard fast here, and Fraser hasn’t done anything more than a couple curls, and now he’s moving on to something similar, but he’s sitting up more and twisting his shoulders, and Ray has found a whole new appreciation for Fraser’s thighs. Not just his upper thighs, which are nice and meaty, and great to brace himself on, but all the way down to where the muscle meets the knee, the line where one muscle group runs into the next. Which brings Ray’s eyes to Fraser’s knees, which aren’t the prettiest things ever, but they’re solid and dependable, which is more than Ray can say for his own.
Fraser’s calves are pretty, too. He has some great muscle tone - from all the running and jumping and snowshoeing, Ray guesses. He wants to run his hand up one of them right now, and just as he blinks and wonders why he can’t, Fraser flips over, transitioning smoothly into pushups.
Good Christ. Ray’s cock is so hard now it’s almost painful. Fraser’s skin is a warm color, flushed from the exercise and golden from the faint light streaming in the windows. Ray presses down hard on his erection through his sweats, and bites his knuckles. Fraser’s back has the same smooth contours as the rest of his body, his shoulder blades arcing up to create a gentle swell that comes and goes as he moves. Tucked into the curve of the small of his back is a tiny shadow, which Ray can recognize from here as the bullet scar; but even that is softened in this light.
He can’t stand it any longer, and almost before he’s aware of it, Ray’s off the couch and crouching over Fraser. Fraser must know he’s there, but the only reaction he gets is a rippling shudder as he runs his hand lightly down Fraser’s back, following the ridge of his spine, almost totally hidden between the layers of fat and muscle. Fraser keeps moving though, and as he goes downward once more, Ray swings one leg over Fraser, straddling him, hugging his body close but being careful to support his own weight. He lets his head rest on the juncture of Fraser’s neck and shoulder and nudges the back of Fraser’s neck as he sucks at the skin there, tasting the salt and sweat. He can feel Fraser’s pulse, strong and fast, and he bites down gently, thrusting his hips a little against Fraser’s lower back.
This time, when Fraser descends, he doesn’t get up again. He starts to roll over, though, and Ray just goes with it, lifting up just long enough for Fraser to get settled comfortably on his back, and then he’s back down again, and - surprise surprise - Fraser’s got an erection to match his own. His head arcs up, and Fraser’s kissing him hungrily, sucking and biting at his collarbone, the tendons in his neck, licking a long stripe up to his jaw, sucking again just under his ear. His hands are spread against Ray’s hips, pulling him down even as he arches into Ray, and they’re humping each other, just thrusting their cocks together and it’s only the dim realization that both of them are still fucking clothed that tears Ray away.
Fraser protests at first, but quickly catches on as Ray scrabbles at Fraser’s boxers, and makes short work of Ray’s sweatpants. The sweat has given Fraser’s body a dull sheen, and Ray tastes eagerly, pressing his mouth to the dip in Fraser’s hipbone, tracing the line down to his stomach. He can smell Fraser’s arousal now, taste it in his skin, and he wonders what it would be like with Fraser’s superior senses. Guy must have a lot more restraint than he’d given him credit for. Ray returns to his downward path, tasting the soft skin, loving the way it moves beneath his tongue, exploring the changing texture as he nears his goal.
Fraser’s cock is flushed and leaking, and Ray closes his lips over the head, rubbing his tongue over the tip as he closes his hand around the shaft, letting his thumb glide down to press against Fraser’s perineum, just a quick little tease that sends Fraser’s hips jerking up.
Fraser has started to babble, low and almost inaudible. He’s saying things like ‘yes,’ and ‘please,’ and ‘oh, Ray’ and something that might not even be fucking English. It’s all going straight to Ray’s groin, and he slides his mouth further down Fraser’s dick, taking in as much as he can, trying to relax his muscles, and telling his throat to just go with it. Ray can tell he’s doing his job right because Fraser’s babbling has increased in pitch now, Ray can’t even tell what he’s saying, but Fraser’s hands are fisting, pushing against the floor in time with the shallow thrust of his hips, so whatever it is must translate to ‘yes, yes, holyfuckingyes.’
Ray pulls away, licking his lips to find every last trace of Fraser. The sight of Fraser, spread out on the floor, hips canted, one knee bent, chest heaving and glistening, dotted here and there with red marks from Ray’s lips and teeth, nearly makes him come right then. Fraser’s eyes are closed, his head to one side and his neck arched back.
“Ray…”
Ray nods, even though Fraser can’t see it, and leans back in, slower now, tonguing Fraser’s balls, one at a time, feeling the way Fraser is just radiating so much heat, hearing his ragged breathing gasp and catch as Ray strokes along a particularly sensitive spot. Fraser’s whole body is trembling, and Ray pulls away for a second, still stroking him with one hand. Ray sucks on his fingers for a second, getting them wet, then returns to Fraser’s cock, and Fraser goes wild, fucking his face as Ray strokes him from the inside, two fingers in him almost to the hilt. It’s like Fraser’s got no control over his hips all of a sudden, and Ray just rides it out, reveling in the power of the thrusts and taking everything Fraser has to offer as he shudders and jerks and then comes.
Fraser gives a soft sigh as Ray pulls away, but then he’s pulling Ray up and rolling over at the same time so Ray is pinned under him, and he can feel Fraser’s hand as it snakes down between them, wrapping that firm, callused palm around his erection. Ray pulls Fraser closer, fingers spreading over the broad span of muscle at his shoulders. Fraser is kissing him too, trying to eat him alive, and all Ray can do is thrust harder into his hand, until he’s practically slamming his whole body forward now. It’s only the fact that Fraser has somehow managed to get one hand under Ray’s head, cradling his skull and tangling his fingers in Ray’s sleep-mussed hair, that prevents Ray from cracking his head on the hardwood floor. Fraser’s tongue is everywhere, fucking his mouth and stealing his breath away; and when Ray comes, he swears he can see spots.
The floor may be warm from all the sunlight streaming in, but it’s still too hard and uncomfortable to spend too much time there. Ray knows as soon as the rush from the orgasm wears off he’s going to regret lying there so long, so when Fraser finally stands and offers him a hand up, he takes it, leaning into Fraser and resting his chin on his shoulder. He lets Fraser guide him back to the bedroom, and falls back into the bed while Fraser disappears again. He comes back with a towel and - wonder of wonders, coffee. Ray sits up just enough to sip the coffee, holding carefully as the bed shifts with Fraser’s weight as he moves over Ray, cleaning them both off. The cloth disappears, but it probably hasn’t gone too far. As soon as Fraser looks settled, Ray shifts over to lean against him, and Fraser curls around him, one knee coming up, the opposite arm snaking down to rest just under his ribs, thumb brushing at the bony part of his hip.
“So, uh, Fraser, you…”
“It was rather hard not to notice, Ray.” Fraser’s hand sneaks lower, towards Ray’s cock, which is still soft.
Ray sets the empty coffee mug down, and rests his hand over Fraser’s, laying each finger over Fraser’s, his longer but skinnier ones moving slowly up and down. “I always noticed bodies. Always thought it was just me being all self-conscious, but it wasn’t just at the gym. It always felt weird, just… looking, like that.”
Fraser’s breath is warm against his ear. “I like it when you look at me like that. I find it… exciting.” He gives Ray’s cock a squeeze, since it’s woken up a little.
Ray squirms a bit, because he still doesn’t feel right doing it, but he’s careful because it’s never good to accidentally elbow your lover in the guts. He closes his eyes. Fraser must notice, because the big hand is gone from his cock, but before he can complain, it’s back, fumbling a bit as it wraps around Ray’s own hand, and then around his cock.
“Open your eyes, Ray.” Fraser’s voice is warm and rich, right in his ear, making Ray think of cigarettes and really good whiskey. Ray has no choice but to obey, and he’s immediately caught by the sight of Fraser’s fingers tangled around his, and he follows the line of the blunt fingertips up, seeing the veins and tendons under the thin skin of the wrist, and up higher to the lateral scar cutting across Fraser’s arm, just below the elbow. Then he’s drawn back down as Fraser begins to stroke him. Fraser is guiding their hands up and down over Ray’s cock, slowly, just enough pressure to move Ray’s fingers into a comfortable curl, and Ray lets him continue the motion, his cock perking up.
“Look up,” Fraser says then, almost a whisper, and nudges him a little with his head. Ray does, and he has to let out a little moan. It’s only across the room, but it’s fuzzy around the edges so if he squints it gets really fuzzy. But it’s him. Him and Fraser. Ray’s noticed it before - hell, he was the one who dragged all the furniture up here in the first place - but the mirror on the dresser gives a pretty good view of the bed, especially when they’re propped up like this.
Ray’s only about half lying on Fraser, so when he looks up he can see a good portion of Fraser’s chest, and most of a thigh before his leg bends and disappears under a sheet. And he can just see Fraser’s cock, in the shadows between the two of them, and he can feel it nudging against his ass as Fraser shifts a little. But he’s mostly captivated by Fraser’s hands. The left one is at his hip now, creating little valleys in his flesh as Fraser braces himself. Most of Fraser might be pale from hiding under that uniform all the time, but his hands are browner and tough, and they stand out against the white of Ray’s own skin there. And then he sees Fraser’s other hand around his own, on his cock.
Normally Ray doesn’t think his body’s anything special. Yeah, he trains, but half the time it’s to keep up with guys like Fraser. He could never be a serious tough, and he’s known since he was about thirteen that he was never really gonna have the type of body that made girls swoon. No, he was more the type that made girls snicker if he wore shorts. But here, like this, with Fraser’s hands splayed out over him, playing his body and hitting all the right notes, he could start to see things - little things, that might make someone like Fraser say ‘hey, yeah, that’s not the mark of a psychopath.’ Maybe it’s just like every other part of their duet, every other way they fit together. Because when Fraser rubs his thumb against the edge of Ray’s rib, like that, Ray’s legs open a fraction wider, settling into the V created by Fraser’s legs. And when Ray leans his head back further, the muscles in Fraser’s neck jump and tighten before Fraser leans over to bite at the soft underside of his chin, and the line of the muscle in his shoulder perfectly matches Ray’s where he reaches back to steady himself as his hips jerk again.
“Shit, Fraser,” Ray’s gasping now - he’d say breathless, but that’s a chick word, if you’re breathless, you’re dead. He gasps again as Fraser’s erection rubs against his ass again, harder this time. Then again, Fraser is kinda killing him here - just stroking him lightly, kinda teasing, but Ray’s cock is leaking and hard, like he didn’t just get off twenty minutes ago. But that’s OK, because this has got to be the hottest thing he’s seen or done all week - hell, probably longer than that. He stops bracing himself with his left hand, trusting Fraser to keep them balanced, and instead reaches down to Fraser’s cock, thrusting his hips back in little shallow motions. But he can tell almost right away it isn’t going to work, so he scrabbles back up, reaching for the lube on the nightstand.
Fraser releases him, but not for long. He sits up against the headboard, long enough for Ray to roll a condom on his erection, but when Ray tries to lean in again, Fraser shakes his head a little and places his hands on Ray’s hips, eyes glittering, and makes him turn around, so he’s facing the mirror again. Ray follows eagerly this time, and he has to press down on his balls a little to keep himself from coming right then and there. Because yeah, he can’t see much of Fraser right now, but what he does see are Fraser’s hands, strong and sure, one on his hip, curling up to the soft skin on the inside, and the other stroking below his dick; and he groans as two of those fingers slip into his ass. Fraser is slow, cautious as always, but also teasing. He strokes him shallowly at first, then works his way deeper when Ray gives a grunt, then scissors briefly, stretching the muscle before withdrawing again.
“More,” Ray gets out, trying to keep his balance and still see what Fraser’s doing. Fraser gives him two fingers again, and Ray can see them disappearing into him at the same time that he feels them, thick and blunt, but sensitive and gentle. Fraser’s more direct this time, still stretching, but he goes straight for the hot spot, stroking it and making Ray buck, and he has to wrench his eyes closed and breathe hard through clenched teeth for a moment to keep from coming.
That looks like more than enough for Fraser, who slips his fingers out and slicks up his own erection. Ray notices that his own fingers are trembling and he flexes them quickly. Then Fraser’s hand tightens on his hip, and Ray slides down onto Fraser’s cock, slowly, slowly, until he’s fully seated. Both of Fraser’s hands are on his hips now, and he can feel Fraser’s chest rising and falling behind him, and he leans back a little. They just sit there for a moment while Ray adjusts: his blood is rushing hard through his veins, his adrenaline is racing - he loves this feeling, being with Fraser like this - he feels like he’s part of Fraser, like Fraser’s part of him. Looking in the mirror, he sees that Fraser is caught up, too - his eyes are closed, his head is thrown back a little, and his mouth is open. He looks blissed-out and debauched and perfect.
Slowly Ray begins to move, watching Fraser in the mirror. His head stays thrown back, but his hands twitch here and there, guiding Ray back and forth, as he fucks himself on Fraser’s cock, riding harder and faster as Fraser’s hips start to snap too, finding a rhythm easily, rising to meet Ray every time he slams down, balls slapping against his ass, hitting his prostate just like that every time, and then Fraser’s eyes open, catching his in the mirror, and Fraser’s hand - warm, callused, big - wraps around his dick and bam, that’s all she wrote, Ray’s coming like a fucking freight train, all over himself and Fraser, and his jerking hips have lost all rhythm, but Fraser doesn’t seem to care because his free hand is pulling Ray down at the same time that his hips slam up, and then Fraser’s coming too, Ray can feel it, even through the condom, and in the way Fraser’s breathing gets all stuttery and hitched, a big breath in right by his ear, then held a long moment before it’s exhaled out.
Ray practically passes out after that, because it’s all kind of a haze as Fraser finally, reluctantly pulls out and cleans them both up. The towel goes away again, but he can see where this time as Fraser tosses it in the general direction of the bathroom and the laundry hamper, but it only makes it partway before landing with a halfhearted plop. Ray manages an unsteady grin at that, but he’s too comfortable in the warm bed, with sleepiness stealing over him again, at least momentarily. He turns on his side, letting Fraser spoon up beside him, jostling the bed around a little. He smells like sweat, and sex, a little, but also that something that says ‘Fraser!’ and ‘Canada!’ to Ray. Fraser pulls him in close, wrapping one arm around him, across his chest just under his own, one leg kind of slung over as well, and it always kind of reminds Ray of puppy-piling when Fraser does this. Fraser’s forehead is resting against the back of his neck, and Ray rolls his head to the side a little, and blinks muzzily at the alarm clock.
6:27.
Blink. Blink.
6:27.
“Fraser, if you wake me up to go to work in an hour and a half, I’ll kill you, no matter how fucking good you are in bed.” His voice is muffled, and he can barely make out half the words himself, but Fraser seems to get the message.
“Don’t be silly, Ray. You’re taking a late shift today, remember? Stakeout by the docks.” Fraser speaks without moving, and his voice is just as muffled and indistinct.
“Oh.” Ray thinks about wriggling a little closer, but that seems like too much effort at this point. He just grabs at the arm Fraser has draped over him, and pulls it a little tighter. Fraser makes some sort of uninterpretable noise, but lets Ray manhandle him closer. “Well, hey, lemme know the next time you’re planning to do a little exercise, OK?”
He can feel Fraser smile into his neck, and squeeze his wrist a little before leaning in to nip quickly at his neck. “Mmmm.” Ray assumes that means yes.
If he listens hard, he can pick up the occasional traffic noise outside, and the sun is starting to move away, no longer shining right into the window. But Ray is warm enough already, with Fraser wrapped around him, and city noises are like background noise to him really, so he tunes them out. He gives half a thought to checking to see if the alarm’s set, but Fraser’s always on top of things like that, and besides, he’d rather wallow in the warmth. He brushes over Fraser’s hand softly with his thumb, but even as he’s doing that he can feel himself drifting off. He sighs a little and lets go. Funny, he feels a little lighter for some reason, but he’s not sure why. He shrugs it off, putting it down to post-sex sleepiness, and a Mountie for a radiator. He doesn’t really get it, but he’ll take it for as long as he can. Not everyday you find someone crazy enough to indulge every wacko thing wrong with you.
Fraser nudges him again, making that grunting noise, then mutters something about chickens and azaleas. Ray ignores it, and lets himself fall asleep at last, loose and relaxed and enjoying a free feeling he’s too tired and too blissed-out to ponder. Whatever it is, it can probably wait until morning. And if it’s a problem, it can wait longer. Ray’s not dealing with those right now.