Cold Nose, Hot Mouth, Can't Lose, by moosesal (posted 11:40am EST)
Title: Cold Nose, Hot Mouth, Can't Lose
Author: moosesal
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Length: ~ 1100 words
Prompt: cold noses
Ray had half woken when Fraser crawled out of bed and took Dief out for a run. He thought about getting up and making breakfast, taking a shower, starting the coffee, whatever. Instead he rolled over into Fraser’s empty space and burrowed deeper under the covers. It was warm and cozy, Fraser’s pillow smelled of his woodsy scent. Outside the apartment was cool as fall wore on and Fraser insisted it wasn’t cold enough yet to turn on the heat.
Ray snuggled in deeper and drifted back to sleep. Mmm. It seemed like only moments later when he stirred again at the sound of the front door closing and the clickety-clack of Dief’s nails on the hardwood. The clicking came closer, then a nudge at the covers, and then, “Yeowww!!”
Ray practically levitated off the bed as he jumped at the feel of Dief’s cold, wet nose against his bare chest. Fraser laughed from the doorway even as he moved forward to pull Dief away. Ray glared at them both in turn.
“Good morning, Ray.” Fraser toed off his running shoes and pulled his sweatshirt over his head as he moved onto the bed. His hair was damp with sweat, cheeks flushed red from running in the cool morning air. He was over Ray now, on top of the covers, straddling hips and leaning forward, pulling the blankets back, and then in an instant, “Yeowww!!! Cold hands, cold hands, cold hands.”
Fraser sat back and laughed fully now as Ray jerked the covers back up again. “You. Hot shower. Now.”
“Just one kiss first.” Fraser pointedly placed his hands beside Ray’s shoulders, outside the covers, and leaned forward again. He nuzzled his nose along Ray’s jaw. While cold like Dief’s, it was thankfully not wet. Fraser kissed him slowly, carefully. Always so gentle like Ray might break. Until Ray would remind him he wasn’t a delicate flower, that Fraser could push and pull, could fuck him harder and deeper, could take him however he liked.
One kiss turned into two then three. Ray reached up to Fraser’s chest and pushed him back. “Shower,” he muttered.
“Join me?”
“Yeah.” Ray nodded. “In a minute. When the water’s hot and your hands aren’t so cold.”
Fraser pulled away and Ray watched him strip his remaining clothes as he left the room. Seconds later he heard the shower running. He reached above him, stretching his arms, arching his back, pointing his toes, feeling his entire body wake up. Before he changed his mind and settled back down into the warmth of the bed, he tossed back the covers and was up and moving to the bathroom.
Fraser had the water nice and hot, just the way Ray liked it. He slid the curtain aside just enough to stick his head in and watched Fraser standing there, head tipped back under the showerhead, water sluicing down over his body. Ray’s gaze travelled down over hard nipples, taught stomach, half-hard cock hanging between strong thighs. He groaned at the sight and pushed the curtain aside, stepping into the shower and moving into Fraser’s space.
He stood close -- their bodies separated by a fraction of an inch. He held his breath and looked at Fraser -- not touching or speaking, not shifting or reaching. It felt like forever and then Ray couldn’t take it any longer. He leaned in for a kiss, his hands gripping Fraser’s hips, and he nudged until Fraser moved and the two of them had switched positions, Ray under the water and Fraser with his back to the wall at the end of the tub.
Ray could kiss him all day, had in fact done just that once (well, not just that all day, but for a long time), but he knew how limited the hot water in his apartment was. He dropped to his knees and pressed his lips to Fraser’s stomach, to his hips, to the crease of his thigh. And then he took Fraser in his mouth.
“Ray,” Fraser groaned. His cock grew thicker, longer, filling Ray’s mouth and Ray moaned. He loved doing this, loved it when Fraser let go and really allowed himself to enjoy this. Today Fraser wasn’t hesitating. His hands threaded through Ray’s hair, tipping his head back to just the right angle. Ray’s hands moved to Fraser’s thighs and he pulled just a bit, silently telling Fraser to take control, to move as he pleased.
Fraser slid slowly in and out of Ray’s mouth, his hands squeezing Ray’s head and gently pulling at his hair. Ray let himself be held, be used. Fraser’s thrusts sped up a little, still not going too fast or too deep, just warming up.
“So hot, Ray. So fucking hot.”
Jesus. Ray moaned and dropped a hand to his own cock. When Fraser started talking, when he forgot his manners and let loose, Ray’s own limited control went out the window.
“You want it, Ray?” Ray nodded as best he could under the circumstances and Fraser’s hand moved to his jaw, pressing in just the right spot. Ray’s mouth opened wider without thought, he relaxed his throat, and Fraser pushed deeper. Ray choked and his eyes watered and he fisted his cock faster, tighter. He gave himself up to it; Fraser took everything he offered, fucking his face, pulling his hair, holding his head.
“Fuck,” Fraser muttered. “So good.” A few more thrusts into Ray’s throat and then he pulled out and reached down to finish himself with his hand. A couple hard pulls and he was coming on Ray’s lips, cheeks, nose. Ray closed his eyes and opened his mouth, tipped his head back let it happen. Within seconds his own orgasm was rushing through him, his come coating his hand and the shower floor. And then came the post-sex coma.
He leaned into Fraser’s legs, gasping for breath, unable to move. Gentle fingers stroked through his hair, then a strong hand under his arm pulling him up. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” A washcloth on his face, his chest, his arms. Fraser’s touch easy and thorough. His body turned and the cloth slipped over his back, his ass, Fraser’s mouth trailing everywhere he washed then rinsed. The water was turned off, then a towel wrapped around him, and he was standing on the bathmat.
A rush of cool air when Fraser opened the bathroom door, but after the heat of the shower Ray didn’t mind. Fraser turned him toward the bedroom, and then out of nowhere, “Yeowww!!” Cold, wet nose under the towel. Some things never changed.
The end
I tag qe2 with the prompt, “flannel.”
Author: moosesal
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Length: ~ 1100 words
Prompt: cold noses
Ray had half woken when Fraser crawled out of bed and took Dief out for a run. He thought about getting up and making breakfast, taking a shower, starting the coffee, whatever. Instead he rolled over into Fraser’s empty space and burrowed deeper under the covers. It was warm and cozy, Fraser’s pillow smelled of his woodsy scent. Outside the apartment was cool as fall wore on and Fraser insisted it wasn’t cold enough yet to turn on the heat.
Ray snuggled in deeper and drifted back to sleep. Mmm. It seemed like only moments later when he stirred again at the sound of the front door closing and the clickety-clack of Dief’s nails on the hardwood. The clicking came closer, then a nudge at the covers, and then, “Yeowww!!”
Ray practically levitated off the bed as he jumped at the feel of Dief’s cold, wet nose against his bare chest. Fraser laughed from the doorway even as he moved forward to pull Dief away. Ray glared at them both in turn.
“Good morning, Ray.” Fraser toed off his running shoes and pulled his sweatshirt over his head as he moved onto the bed. His hair was damp with sweat, cheeks flushed red from running in the cool morning air. He was over Ray now, on top of the covers, straddling hips and leaning forward, pulling the blankets back, and then in an instant, “Yeowww!!! Cold hands, cold hands, cold hands.”
Fraser sat back and laughed fully now as Ray jerked the covers back up again. “You. Hot shower. Now.”
“Just one kiss first.” Fraser pointedly placed his hands beside Ray’s shoulders, outside the covers, and leaned forward again. He nuzzled his nose along Ray’s jaw. While cold like Dief’s, it was thankfully not wet. Fraser kissed him slowly, carefully. Always so gentle like Ray might break. Until Ray would remind him he wasn’t a delicate flower, that Fraser could push and pull, could fuck him harder and deeper, could take him however he liked.
One kiss turned into two then three. Ray reached up to Fraser’s chest and pushed him back. “Shower,” he muttered.
“Join me?”
“Yeah.” Ray nodded. “In a minute. When the water’s hot and your hands aren’t so cold.”
Fraser pulled away and Ray watched him strip his remaining clothes as he left the room. Seconds later he heard the shower running. He reached above him, stretching his arms, arching his back, pointing his toes, feeling his entire body wake up. Before he changed his mind and settled back down into the warmth of the bed, he tossed back the covers and was up and moving to the bathroom.
Fraser had the water nice and hot, just the way Ray liked it. He slid the curtain aside just enough to stick his head in and watched Fraser standing there, head tipped back under the showerhead, water sluicing down over his body. Ray’s gaze travelled down over hard nipples, taught stomach, half-hard cock hanging between strong thighs. He groaned at the sight and pushed the curtain aside, stepping into the shower and moving into Fraser’s space.
He stood close -- their bodies separated by a fraction of an inch. He held his breath and looked at Fraser -- not touching or speaking, not shifting or reaching. It felt like forever and then Ray couldn’t take it any longer. He leaned in for a kiss, his hands gripping Fraser’s hips, and he nudged until Fraser moved and the two of them had switched positions, Ray under the water and Fraser with his back to the wall at the end of the tub.
Ray could kiss him all day, had in fact done just that once (well, not just that all day, but for a long time), but he knew how limited the hot water in his apartment was. He dropped to his knees and pressed his lips to Fraser’s stomach, to his hips, to the crease of his thigh. And then he took Fraser in his mouth.
“Ray,” Fraser groaned. His cock grew thicker, longer, filling Ray’s mouth and Ray moaned. He loved doing this, loved it when Fraser let go and really allowed himself to enjoy this. Today Fraser wasn’t hesitating. His hands threaded through Ray’s hair, tipping his head back to just the right angle. Ray’s hands moved to Fraser’s thighs and he pulled just a bit, silently telling Fraser to take control, to move as he pleased.
Fraser slid slowly in and out of Ray’s mouth, his hands squeezing Ray’s head and gently pulling at his hair. Ray let himself be held, be used. Fraser’s thrusts sped up a little, still not going too fast or too deep, just warming up.
“So hot, Ray. So fucking hot.”
Jesus. Ray moaned and dropped a hand to his own cock. When Fraser started talking, when he forgot his manners and let loose, Ray’s own limited control went out the window.
“You want it, Ray?” Ray nodded as best he could under the circumstances and Fraser’s hand moved to his jaw, pressing in just the right spot. Ray’s mouth opened wider without thought, he relaxed his throat, and Fraser pushed deeper. Ray choked and his eyes watered and he fisted his cock faster, tighter. He gave himself up to it; Fraser took everything he offered, fucking his face, pulling his hair, holding his head.
“Fuck,” Fraser muttered. “So good.” A few more thrusts into Ray’s throat and then he pulled out and reached down to finish himself with his hand. A couple hard pulls and he was coming on Ray’s lips, cheeks, nose. Ray closed his eyes and opened his mouth, tipped his head back let it happen. Within seconds his own orgasm was rushing through him, his come coating his hand and the shower floor. And then came the post-sex coma.
He leaned into Fraser’s legs, gasping for breath, unable to move. Gentle fingers stroked through his hair, then a strong hand under his arm pulling him up. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” A washcloth on his face, his chest, his arms. Fraser’s touch easy and thorough. His body turned and the cloth slipped over his back, his ass, Fraser’s mouth trailing everywhere he washed then rinsed. The water was turned off, then a towel wrapped around him, and he was standing on the bathmat.
A rush of cool air when Fraser opened the bathroom door, but after the heat of the shower Ray didn’t mind. Fraser turned him toward the bedroom, and then out of nowhere, “Yeowww!!” Cold, wet nose under the towel. Some things never changed.
The end
I tag qe2 with the prompt, “flannel.”