Ray hissed when Fraser’s hand touched his knee. God this hurt.
“I’m sorry, Ray.” Fraser said quietly. They were back at Ray’s apartment and Ray was sprawled on the couch with Fraser kneeling in front of him – a position Ray had always wanted to experience (he should have been more detailed about the specifics, though).
“Not your fault,” Ray sighed, “at least we got the guy.”
“That we did.” Fraser stood up and rummaged in Ray’s kitchen. Ray didn’t bother looking around; Fraser would take care of everything. He leaned back against the cushions and tried to ignore the throbbing of his knee.
They had been in hot pursuit of a man pretty high up in the ranks of this illegal prostitution operation – Ray just wasn’t as lucky as Fraser when it came to jumping buildings so his knee had taken the brunt of the fall.
Fraser came back into view with a pair of scissors. Ray eyed them wearily. “You wanna cut my jeans up?”
Fraser rubbed a thumb over his eyebrow.
“Well, seeing the state they are already in I don’t think they could be salvaged in any case. I simply thought this might be the easier option. Unless you’d like to undress, Ray. I assure you I don’t have any objections against this method of progress either.”
Ray’s head snapped up with lightening speed. From anyone, absolutely anyone else this would have been a come-on… but Fraser didn’t even know what a ‘come-on’ was. Right?
“Uh, no, you go ahead. Knock yourself out.” Ray stretched his leg out with a wince.
He would have a hard-on before he ever managed to pull his pants over his ass. Undressing in front of Fraser was, like, one of the key ingredients of all of his fantasies… of course, in some of them he never even got undressed but that was completely beside the point.
Fraser busied himself with the scissors to hide his disappointment. He put a warm hand on Ray’s calf and pulled the fabric away, the cold metal of the scissors scraped softly against Ray’s skin. Fraser cut the fabric open until he was a good few inches above the knee.
He pushed his hand inside the fold, his hand stroked lightly over Ray’s skin while he pushed the fabric out of the way. His hand continued its way up until it fastened itself into the hollow of Ray’s knee and his other hand came up to tear the rest of the fabric away.
Ray was strangely quiet and when Fraser looked up it looked as if Ray was holding his breath.
“Just sit still. I’m going to get ice and antibiotic ointment.” Fraser explained quietly, still holding Ray’s leg. Ray only nodded. He didn’t trust his voice and his leg had the weird impulse to twitch.
Slowly Fraser released his grip and made his way to the bathroom. Ray breathed in and out as slowly as he could. The touch had felt so intimate, almost affectionate and it conjured other pictures up, other places those hands could touch, under circumstances in which they could feel up Ray’s body and commit his skin to memory.
He heard footsteps approaching and tried to shake himself out of it. He was almost as bad as Fraser what with all the day dreaming he was doing lately.
Fraser placed a small bowl with ice cubes next to him and a bottle of iodine that Ray eyed in dismay.
Fraser placed his hand straight in the middle of Ray’s thigh and Ray jumped violently – a particular body part of him was also trying to get in on the action and Ray produced a sound that sounded very much like “eep” which was even more humiliating.
“Fraser! Do you need to put your hand quite so close?”
Fraser looked up puzzled. “Where do you propose I touch you then?”
Ray’s jaw worked up and down but a multitude of possible answers fought for dominance on this one, ‘my cock’, ‘my chest’, ‘my legs’, ‘my lips’… ‘everywhere’ were all the first ones that came to mind but Ray was rather sure that this wasn’t what Fraser had asked.
“I-I, uh, nothing, Fraser.” He mumbled.
Fraser bent his head over the bowl of ice cubes so that Ray couldn’t see the smirk playing on his lips.
He fished out an ice cube and warmed it slightly between his fingers until it started to drip with water. Fraser moved the melting ice carefully over Ray’s knee, removing the dirt and the grit.
Ray hissed again at the cold and Fraser rubbed a soothing circle with his thumb on Ray’s thigh. Water trickled in very small rivulets down Ray’s leg while Fraser continued to slide the smooth cube over Ray’s skin.
Ray’s hand was gripping the couch cushion with a stranglehold. Oh God, oh Godohgodohgod, ran through his head in one endless loop and the thought came to him that this wasn’t using His name in vain – this was probably the most just cause ever to do it.
Fraser’s thumb on his thigh felt burning hot and the circling motion was distracting like nobody’s business but nothing was worse than the feel of the cool, slick ice cube traveling over his heated skin.
And the simple image of Fraser on his knees in front of him… God, if he came closer he would be at the perfect height to— the thumping of his heart sounded deafening to his ears.
Fraser picked up on Ray’s quickened breathing and bit his lip to keep from smiling. The hand on Ray’s thigh stroked lower under the pretense of pushing the jeans fabric firmly away again before he rubbed upwards again, just an inch further than before. Ray tried to stifle his gasp but the twitch in his leg gave him away.
How obvious would it be if he draped a jacket over his groin now Ray wondered? Maybe he could use a couch cushion as cover? God, his jeans were simply too tight for this shit.
What did you say as an excuse when you came in your pants while your partner took care of your wound? That’s the thing about life no one ever wrote a book about the really important stuff, like, ‘101 ways to come in your pants without your partner knowing’ or something.
“There,” Fraser said satisfied, his gaze traveled upwards and it took him every ounce of willpower not to linger over the unmistakable bulge in Ray’s pants. Instead he acted as if he hadn’t noticed and met Ray’s slightly flushed face with a calm look.
Ray’s self-control was really remarkable. Either that or Ray really thought he was that innocent – in which case Fraser would have to up the ante a bit.
“I’m going to apply the iodine now. It might sting a bit.” He warned. Ray didn’t care, hurt was good, hurt was greatness, hurt had nothing to do with sex, it was a welcome distraction.
It did sting a bit but it didn’t even help to take the edge away. But Fraser obviously hadn’t noticed his current state – sometimes Fraser’s damn ignorance was really bliss.
Ray wasn’t exactly keen on telling Fraser that he might have a bit of a thing for him, just a tiny little crush really, almost non-existent, really. Hardly worth explaining at all – which was exactly why he hadn’t said anything. Ever.
When Fraser left a while later Ray lay down on his bed and thought a long time about the feeling of Fraser’s fingers on his skin.
The pain in his knee didn’t even bother him anymore.
Something had changed and Ray couldn’t really put his finger on it. Fraser seemed to be… happy. And it wasn’t as if Fraser had run around being miserable but… Ray sighed. This was complicated.
Fraser just never outright grinned or laughed and he usually smiled just this little smile, the somewhat polite one.
Lately, Fraser was smiling more and more – usually at Ray. And somehow also at Ray’s expense. Ray really wasn’t all that sure if it wasn’t just a trick of his own oversexed imagination.
He wanted therefore it was. Or something like that. Yesterday he had sat at his desk and tried to persuade the printer to work for him for just once in its stupid life when Fraser appeared at his back, leaned over him and murmured in his ear “I can help you with this.”
And he had. The printer had whizzed to life and Ray had his copy. Just… Jesus! Ray heard the soft hum of Fraser’s voice in his ear for an hour afterwards. It was disconcerting, was what it was.
But no one else seemed to notice anything. Sure, people had started to look funny since Fraser had started talking about sex statistics but everyone had come to accept that this was Fraser’s way of dealing with this case so no one made fun of him because of it – at least not more than usual.
His crush had reached new heights. His mind now actually believed that Fraser was flirting with him. Flirting. Fraser. The guy who asked “for what?” when a woman said she wanted him. Ray had lost his mind— the only thing missing was talking to thin air. But that was right up Fraser’s alley so he could probably give him a few pointers.
So Ray did the only logical thing: He ignored it. It was better for his sanity and definitely better for his friendship with Fraser.
That night Ray wasn’t giving his mind any leeway for funny business. Everything would be normal tonight.
Fraser was again down to his Henley and his pants but Ray had time to get accustomed to that. Wasn’t like he didn’t appreciate it anymore but he could survive the distraction.
Ray ambled into the kitchen. “Hey Frase, you want tea or something? My mum left some Earl Grey stuff last time she came in.” – Which was a blatant lie.
Ray had bought the tea himself in the hope it would get his mind back to terra firma, no bottles to lick and no thirsty gulps of tangy beer that left Fraser’s lips shiny with moisture and that made Ray wonder how beer from Fraser’s tongue would taste like.
Fraser produced an appreciative murmur. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
Ray busied himself with the preparation of a coffee for himself. When his coffee was through the tea was done steeping. He carried the cup over to Fraser and placed it in front of him to go back to collect his coffee mug.
Fraser contemplated the cup in front of him. He was getting desperate. His plan had started out so promising but it had seemed those last few days as if Ray had lost interest – even though Fraser had done everything he could think of without resorting to public indecency.
He eyed the cup speculatively and blushed at the idea that formed in his mind.
Fraser raised the cup to his lips and took a sip, he heard Ray’s footsteps coming closer and gave a low moan – there was movement to his left before coffee sloshed onto the couch table. “Fuck,” Ray cursed, his gaze snapped from Fraser to the mess on the table and his dripping hand before he focused it on Fraser again.
Ray had a haunted look on his face and Fraser tried very hard to keep his expression neutral. “That’s a very good tea, Ray.” He explained with a small smile.
Ray nodded mechanical. “I-I’ll get that.” He gestured vaguely to the spilled coffee.
Holy shit! Ray tried to control the shaking in his fingers while he fumbled for a paper napkin at the kitchen counter. That sound had brought everything back to the forefront again. And he had worked so hard those last few days. Dammit!
He wanted, he wanted, he wanted.
God, the desire was almost choking him with its intensity. He wanted to have Fraser spread-eagled on his bed, naked and vulnerable and then he could touch Fraser, every bit of that creamy skin, he wanted to dig his nails into the soft flesh and feel the muscles underneath his grip shift.
He wanted to hear Fraser moan, unrestrained and hoarse with sex. He wanted to push his fingers into him, as deep as they could go and fuck Fraser mercilessly until he was shaking and falling apart… he wanted to fuck him, hard and long, and desperate so that Fraser could taste him on his tongue, he—
His fingers closed around the napkin and he tried to get a grip on control that was long gone. He glanced over his shoulder back at the couch and found Fraser looking at him with an intense look. Almost expectant.
And suddenly Ray had a terrible suspicion – but Fraser wouldn’t do this to him. Fraser wouldn’t play him like that. Would he?