When Ray woke up, Fraser was asleep, laying all still and precise on the bed. Hands folded up neat as you please, deep even breathes. Ray didn't have the heart to wake him.
The heart. Sure. More like the guts. One of those internal organs, anyway.
Dief had been sleeping, too, in the living room, but he came into the kitchen as Ray finished putting the coffee on. Ray leaned back against the counter and watched him sniffing across the tiles, and eventually Dief stopped in front of him and looked up.
Ray squatted down to his level. "Hey. So. You good with all this?" He jerked his head toward the bedroom.
He had to assume the noise Dief made meant 'sure.' It was either that or 'why would I give a shit?' Hard to tell.
"Okay, okay, good," Ray said, nodding. "So, uh. You think he's good with all this?"
Dief sat back on his haunches and gave him a calculating look. He looked up at the counter and Ray followed his line of vision to the container of muffins sitting there.
"Hey, I'm not going to bribe you for information here. I mean, I can find out for myself." Ray stood back up. "What the hell do you know, anyway?"
Dief lay down on the floor, looking like he was willing to wait him out on the point, but Ray ignored him and headed to the cabinet for candy for his coffee.
He felt a little better after a couple sips of coffee, so he sat down on the floor next to Dief and scratched behind his ears. Dief raised his head expectantly.
"Oh, jeez, fine," Ray said, and he groped up behind him onto the counter until he could reached the box and wrapped his fingers around a muffin. He threw it over to Dief, who caught it midair and turned his attention to eating. "Happy now? Freak."
Ray shook his head and drank more of his coffee. The sun was starting to come in through the windows -- it was getting light out. He should wake Fraser up, maybe. He was pretty sure Fraser was usually up way before this, even if it was still early in Ray-time.
Ray jiggled his leg a little and scrunched up his face. He said, "You know, you don't have to tell Fraser this, but the last time I did that, the situation involved a fake id and a lot of beer." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Man, they were still calling me Stanley then. Let me tell you, Dief, there are few things less sexy to hear coming out of the mouth of the person you're going down on than Stanley."
"That was in between Stella times," he continued after a second. "Before we went in for the, uh, long haul." He made an expansive gesture to indicate marriage and long-term and commitment and all that, with lots of vague waving and dipping. Dief didn't really seem to be paying attention.
Ray was okay with that. Dief was licking up crumbs on the floor by now, and he made a whining noise at Ray as he finished the last of them. Ray rolled his eyes and grabbed another one for him. And one for himself, too, on second thought -- he was starting to get hungry.
He frowned while he ate. "See, I wasn't expecting this to happen," Ray said between bites. "Or not like it did. Boom! Crash! Out of nowhere." He swallowed his last bit of muffin and looked over at Dief, who was still licking his face with a look of satisfaction.
"That's the thing, I guess. We didn't talk last night, but Fraser pretty much looked like he got hit by a truck. Only you've known him longer than me, so maybe you can tell. Is it the, you know, 'I just got hit by a truck because my head is so thick it takes that to knock some sense into me' or is it more like a 'I just got hit by a truck, and ow, my leg is broken in three places, did you catch that license plate?' sort of thing?"
Apparently Dief had gotten bored of the conversation, though, because he gave Ray a short, appraising look, then got to his feet and walked back out towards the living room.
"Well, fine, same to you, buddy," Ray called after him. He scowled at his coffee. "Damn ungrateful wolves."
Ray could hear the water start a minute later -- Fraser must have gotten up and headed for the shower. Twenty-four hours ago, Ray had been in that shower getting ready for another day of work. Twelve hours ago, he and Fraser'd been at that goofy Indian restaurant celebrating another day when Fraser hadn't gotten one or the both of them killed. At neither of those points had it crossed Ray's mind the day was going to end with Fraser's cock in his mouth, and to tell the truth, he still wasn't sure where that had come from -- him or Fraser or both of them -- o how they had gotten from there to wherever the hell they were.
But, Jesus, that'd been hot. Ray'd gotten off without Fraser even touching him, kneeling there against the edge of the bed. Fraser had been quiet, not saying a word, just breathing these heavy deep breaths and moving his hands around and around in Ray's hair, real careful and easy and gentle -- even when Ray started sucking harder, trying to get him to lose it, he was still all quiet, all soft. Right up to the end where his hand suddenly left Ray's hair, and he came, and Ray pulled off to see him with his teeth hard on his fist.
Ray swallowed the last sip of his coffee and set the mug down. He slid down the counter till he was lying on his back on the floor, staring at the ceiling. He stayed like that until after the water turned off again and he saw Fraser in the corner of his eye, standing at the end of the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" Fraser sounded a little confused, which was probably fair. The linoleum wasn't all that comfortable -- his back was starting to call him some not-so-polite names.
Ray lifted his hand and let it fall back to the ground. "It's hard to explain these things, Fraser."
Fraser made a small 'hmm' noise. Ray stared at the ceiling some more. He was surprised when Fraser moved into his eye level, and even more surprised as Fraser lay down beside him on his back, lacing his hands together over his chest.
They were both quiet for a while.
Fraser said, "Your ceiling is dirty, Ray."
"Yeah, I noticed that."
Fraser turned his head to look at Ray and Ray turned his head to look back; Ray froze for a minute, suddenly sure that Fraser was about to do it, lean forward and grab his face and kiss him. But Fraser didn't. Instead Fraser just looked at him with an unreadable expression for a long moment and then pushed himself up to a sitting position.
"Ray. What are we doing here?"
"On the floor?"
"I confess I was thinking in somewhat larger terms." Fraser stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. He leaned over, extending one hand, and Ray let him pull him up to stand, too.
He held on to Fraser's hand even after it would have been normal to let go. He said, "What do you think we're doing here, Fraser?"
Fraser looked away, turning his eyes to the floor. "I don't know, Ray."
Ray moved a little further into Fraser's space. "Sometimes it's easier to explain these things without words," he said. Fraser looked back at him quickly, and Ray moved in and kissed him before he could get away.
After a moment, Ray could feel the tension in Fraser's posture ease. After another moment, his hand moved around to the nape of Ray's neck.
Their lips came apart with a gentle smacking noise, and Fraser took a small step away. His gaze tracked from Ray's lips up to his eyes. "I haven't had much success in this area in the past," he said cautiously, like a warning. "I would understand if you didn't--
Ray snorted. "Fraser, does it look I don't?"
Fraser paused and looked at him -- and Fraser had been looking at him earlier, it wasn't like he didn't know what Ray looked like, but he was still staring. Ray could feel all these tiny hairs on his skin.
"No, Ray. It doesn't," Fraser said finally.
Ray felt himself relax some. "Well, okay, then. Good." He started to say something else, but he forgot what it was as Fraser locked his hand carefully around Ray's wrist.
Ray stared down for a second, at Fraser's hand gripping him tight, and then looked back up at Fraser. Fraser was staring at it, too, looking down at his fingers against Ray's skin.
Ray said, "Hey." Fraser's eyes flickered back up to him, and Ray smiled. "You wanna do something?"
"What would you like to do?" But yeah, Fraser already knew what it was, because he was moving in closer and licking his lips.
"Oh, I got ideas," said Ray. He reached out and tugged hard on Fraser's shirt -- Fraser was only off-balance for a tiny amount of time, a fraction of a second, but that was long enough for Ray to get in there and get him.
They kissed like that for a while, in the middle of the kitchen. Then Ray took a step back, and then other, pulling Fraser along with him, until he was pressed between Fraser and the fridge.
Fraser broke away from the kiss to take a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a second and Ray made a small noise in his throat. When Fraser opened his eyes again, his face was still and hot. He moved Ray's wrist up above his head, then brought Ray's free one up, too, trapping them together with one hand.
Ray was pinned there now. Fraser had him. He wasn't holding on tight or anything -- Ray could break free if he wanted. Probably. But he wasn't going to.
"You're really something, Fraser."
He thought Fraser was going to kiss him again, but instead dipped his head down to Ray's shoulder, nuzzling against Ray's neck, breathing in heavily. Ray made a hungry noise and shifted his hips forward, rubbing lightly against Fraser's leg.
Fraser turned his head again, so his mouth was right by Ray's ear. "Ray," he said, and Ray shivered a little at his warm breath and the tone of his voice. "Ray," and Fraser kept repeating it as he took his free hand, the one not still holding Ray down, and moved it around, all over Ray's arms, all over his chest through his t-shirt.
Nothing else, just Ray's name over and over as he just brushed over Ray and finally stuck his hand in Ray's boxers.
"Oh god, Fraser," Ray said when Fraser's hand wrapped around his cock -- pretty loudly, actually, louder than he meant to, more desperate-sounding. Fraser let go again right away, but it was just to push the shorts down, get them out of the way, and then he was back, holding Ray again.
Ray's hands were just above his head, tensing and relaxing against Fraser's hard, strong grip. His cock was held tight in Fraser's grip, too, and his bare ass was cold against the fridge, and Fraser was still whispering his name like he'd forgotten every other word in his superior vocabulary. Ray closed his eyes and tossed his head back with a grateful clunk as Fraser began to stroke him.
"Ray. Ray. Ray," steady as a fucking drum, and his fingers were still moving, exploring, getting the lay of the land there. Slow, slow -- oh, Fraser liked it slow -- and still so steady, like pouring rain against the window. Fraser was a force of nature.
Ray gritted his teeth and slammed his head lightly back against the fridge in rhythm with his hips. "God, do it, Fraser, come on."
And Fraser's hand went real tight on Ray's wrists for a second, so that it hurt a little, and his hand slowed to a stop on Ray's cock. Ray opened his eyes to stare right into Fraser's wide gaze.
"Ray," Fraser said again.
Ray groaned and bit his own lip hard. "Come on."
"Don't move," Fraser said, letting Ray's wrists free to move his hand to his own trousers. But Ray wasn't going to listen to that, especially not once Fraser finished messing around with his trousers and got his own cock out.
Cause Ray was feeling a little shaky on his feet now, looking down at both of them sticking out like that. He put his hands down on Fraser's shoulders to steady himself. He was glad he had, too, because a second later Fraser was close and shifting around -- and then he had it all fixed up, all arranged so he could just take their cocks both in hand and stroke them together.
"That's good, Fraser," Ray said. He felt out of breath, like someone had just punched him in the gut. "I like that," he said, and jeez, could his bedroom patter -- kitchen patter -- get any lamer?
Fraser didn't mind. Fraser liked it, yeah, liked what he was doing to Ray, doing to them. He'd moved his eyes from Ray's face now -- he was looking down at them, where they were touching. And Ray followed his gaze down, looking at them moving together, and it was hot, it was great, it was...
"Ray. Ray," Fraser said, sounding urgent and twisting sharply on the upstroke. Ray made a loud, helpless noise and came, bucking wildly and cracking his skull hard against Fraser's.
Fraser made an "oof" noise, and he let go of Ray and stepped back. He brought one hand up to his forehead and rubbed it gently. His other hand was still sticky with Ray's spunk, and his cock was still poking out of his pants, all hard and wet and dark -- Jesus, he looked so shocked.
Ray couldn't help laughing.
Fraser stopped rubbing his forehead then and gave him a look. "I don't see--" he started, but Ray stopped that there.
"Aw, don't get huffy, Fraser." He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Fraser's waist, leaning forward to kiss the visible skin between Fraser's neck and the collar of his shirt. Fraser smelled like soap, and sex, and a little just like warm solid flesh. Ray could feel Fraser's hand start moving between their bodies, and he grinned into the fabric. "Go, do it. I wanna feel you do it."
He could feel Fraser's sharp sudden breath. Somehow he wasn't surprised when Fraser started muttering again. "Ray." But then Fraser continued, "Ray. Kiss me."
Ray could do that -- kiss Fraser, hard. Feel his tongue and mouth. Feel the tiny noises he couldn't help making into Ray's mouth. Feel the hot wet jerks as he finally went off between them.
Fraser turned his head to nuzzle into Ray's hair, and they stood quietly in the kitchen, still clasped together. Ray could hear Dief padding around in the other room, and the sounds of the city outside.
After a little while, Ray started to move away. But Fraser just pulled him back tighter, so Ray just settled back into the embrace and didn't feel bad about it.
"So no broken legs, then," he muttered over by Fraser's ear.
"Hmm?" said Fraser, sounding soft and far away.
"Nothing, it's nothing, Fraser. Just--" Ray paused. "This, uh. This is good."
Fraser didn't say anything to that, but he squeezed a little where he gripped Ray's hip, and they stood there like that for a while longer.
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