Part 1: And it’s only just begun
“Man, you should’ve seen her. She was totally into me!” Dewey protested.
“In you? What was she blind and deaf?” Ray asked. Huey wisely refrained from saying anything but it looked to Fraser as if he agreed with Ray.
“Fuck you, Kowalski. I’m serious! She was totally gagging for it!”
Three pair of eyes wandered over to rest on Fraser. He sighed inwardly.
“For what?” he asked as was expected.
“Ah, doesn’t matter!”
“Leave the Mountie alone!”
Fraser clenched his teeth. Choosing to abstain from crude jokes and pointing out how nonsensical some of these colorful expressions were did not mean that Fraser didn’t understand their talk.
In that respect his uniform and his mannerism seemed to work like a shield – everyone wanted to believe him as innocent therefore he had to be.
Oh, he knew that he wasn’t completely blameless. Ray would say that he led people on, that he made them believe he was this untainted, pristine model saint. It wasn’t true though – not completely at least.
People thought he was like that and he simply never proved them wrong. No one ever expected him to grasp the cruder meaning and he never corrected them – it worked in his favor, mostly.
But it got really old after a while. Especially those last few weeks. From the moment Huey and Dewey had to work on a case concerning prostitutes and call-girls the jokes and the insinuations had reached a new low – and Fraser himself seemed to be the butt of the joke more times than not.
And Ray… Fraser had expected better from him, that Ray knew him better than that. But Ray seemed to believe the innocent Mountie act as much as the rest of them.
Not his polite demeanor or his “I’m just asking this without any apparent reference” questions, Ray always caught him on those. No, everything related to sex was apparently something Ray thought Fraser couldn’t deal with and it was infuriating.
He had endured as much as possible. Fraser didn’t need to sink to their level. They wanted him clueless? They could take this whole thing to the next level.
Ray could just wait and see how much he liked it.
They were just bringing in another john who was associated with an illegal prostitution ring and Ray seemed especially infuriated that some men resorted to such desperate measures when Fraser remarked, “Ray, did you know that 29% of all males have more than 15 sexual partners during their life time?”
Ray turned his head as if Fraser had suddenly grown an additional head. “Come again?”
“Oh yes,” and then Fraser went for the kill, “homosexual men are even more promiscuous, statistically speaking, than heterosexual ones.”
Ray looked at Fraser as if he wasn’t sure if he was being made fun of. Fraser was talking to him about sex? But, of course, this was probably merely out of statistic interest – this was Fraser, after all.
“Uh, that’s really helpful Frase.” The Mountie had gone round the bend.
Fraser hid his smirk and changed the topic.
That night they were sitting on Ray’s couch, ‘unwinding’ as Ray had put it.
“… and I got this tense neck, you know? Drives me batshit. But I can’t relax… probably just the bed’s fault,” Ray paused for a moment before he waved the topic away. “Forget I said anything, I’m whining.”
“Ah, Ray you could try a relaxation technique. They take very little effort and are usually quite effective.”
Ray rolled his eyes. “Like what? Should I start drawing those mandolo things or what?”
“Mandala, Ray. No, what I meant was you could avail yourself of autogenic training methods, envisioning a calming image for example. Hot baths are also helpful in that respect. And, of course, masturbation is the most commonly used relaxant,” he added as if it had been an afterthought.
Ray spit his beer through half the room. “Jesus! Fraser!”
Fraser looked wide-eyed at Ray. “What is it Ray?”
Ray wiped his mouth and took in Fraser’s surprised look. “Uh, nothing… just, thanks for the advice.”
“You’re welcome, Ray.” Fraser smiled gently, feeling just the slightest bit self-satisfied.
Ray played with his hands in need of a distraction. “Uh, you want something to drink Fraser?”
Fraser debated for a second.
“I would accept that offer of a beer now, thank you.”
Ray stared a moment at Fraser before he shook himself out of it.
“Coming right up,” Ray mumbled. He went to the kitchen to get two beers out of the fridge. Fraser was talking about jerking off… Fraser wanted a beer… maybe Ray was living in his own fantasy?
That would be nice. It was a good place to live. And you never had to worry about the bill for the central heating, that place was plenty hot on its own.
He handed Fraser the bottle and clinked his own against it. Fraser sniffed at it before he ran his tongue experimentally around the bottle neck. Ray almost swallowed his tongue.
“Fraser?” Ray croaked.
And Fraser sounded so normal that Ray was really afraid it was his own sanity that was taking the piss here.
“Nothing, nothing,” Ray mumbled.
Fraser took in Ray’s speechless state when he had licked the bottle opening with some measure of surprise. He had just wanted to get a taste of the flavor but Ray’s reaction implied that this had been much more than his usual level of weirdness – which was in itself strange because Ray was used to seeing him lick things.
Maybe Ray had no objections to licking beer bottles? He would have to keep that in mind.
An opportunity to test his theory presented itself the very next morning. Fraser took a seat opposite Ray at his desk and went over the case notes. Ray was shuffling notes around – probably looking for something he had misplaced somewhere in the clutter on his desk – and Fraser thoughtfully twiddled the pencil between his fingers.
He considered the writing utensil for a moment before deliberately sucking it into his mouth. The rustling of paper stopped abruptly and when Fraser lifted his gaze he found Ray looking at him with a perplexed expression on his face.
His tongue gave the rubber at the end of the pencil a final nudge before his lips released it again.
“Is something wrong, Ray?”
“Uh, no nothing. All good,” Ray blushed ever so slightly before he busied himself with his in-tray again.
Shit, shit, shit. Ray cursed himself silently. He couldn’t be any more obvious about this if he tried. Fraser and his stupid oral fixation.
He probably didn’t even know how dirty he looked with the damn pen between his lips! Fraser just did this stuff without realizing what effect he was having on other people. Fraser was a real health hazard… and a moral one, too.
Fraser blinked. That was… unexpected.
That night Fraser decided to be a little bolder. It was comfortably warm in Ray’s apartment so Fraser started to unbutton his tunic. Ray stopped and stared at him.
“You… uh, need a hanger for that or anything?”
“Yes, Ray thank you kindly.” He hung his tunic at the back of Ray’s door and pushed the sleeves of his Henley up a bit.
They sat down for some Thai take-out and Ray’s gaze strayed back to Fraser again and again between mouthfuls. Fraser’s tongue crept out to wet his lips while he debated with how much he could get away. A bit more, he decided.
He placed his take-out container on the coffee table and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing a few additional inches of skin. He turned back as if nothing had happened and resumed eating.
Ray wasn’t. He was busy watching Fraser’s newly revealed collar bone. Had he ever seen Fraser so… naked? Fraser in only half of his uniform usually only happened when something gross caught up with them.
This was so much worse. Here was Fraser sitting in Ray’s own apartment, almost – indecently— undressed!
“I could turn on the A/C if you want…” Ray trailed off in a quiet voice. Then again, he could just switch on the heater.
“That won’t be necessary, Ray. Thank you but I feel quite comfortable now.”
Ray’s eyes roved over him again.
He heard Ray swallow very quietly before Ray focused his attention back on his food.
Fraser hid his grin with another mouthful of food. This was new. He would tell Ray much later that this was one of the most defining moments of his life; this evening at Ray’s apartment when he realized for the very first time that Ray was interested in him in a much more intimate way.
It wouldn’t be without anthropological interest to see which caved in first – Ray’s firm belief that butter couldn’t melt in his mouth or Ray’s self-control.
He wasn’t a saint. And he had never claimed to be one either. If Ray rather wanted to believe that he didn’t have a libido to speak of he would show him what liberties in behavior a man without any sexual thoughts could take.