Fraser let himself be dragged inside the small diner and took his seat opposite Ray in one of the booths.
The table was a welcome barrier between them. Fraser tried to enforce the border between them further by arranging the napkin dispenser as unobtrusively as he could right on the imaginary line that divided up the table.
The salt and pepper shaker were also quite convenient for his undertaking. Ray stopped in mid-rant.
“Fraser, you trying to talk strategy here or what’s the Battleships layout for?” Ray asked drawn between puzzlement and amusement.
Fraser looked up confused. “Battleships Ray?”
“Yeah, you know? The game where you draw ships on a map with coordinates and then you try to guess where the ones from your opponent are?”
“I don’t think I’m familiar with this game.”
Ray waved it aside. “Didn’t miss anything, I promise.”
At least the interruption had distracted Fraser enough to feel a bit more composed.
They ordered their food and Fraser resolved not to let Ray take anything that resembled junk food back to Diefenbaker outside later on.
“Dig in,” Ray gestured at Fraser’s food with a chicken wing before tearing a chunk of meat off with his teeth.
Fraser knew that he should concentrate on his own food – that’s what it was there for after all. Sadly, his own Cesar salad didn’t hold nearly half as much interest as Ray eating.
Watching Ray devour chicken wings was almost obscene. Ray’s fingers were already covered in grease and finding it attractive how someone was gnawing on a bone was probably only one more thing on the growing list of evidence against his mental stability but he couldn’t help his fascination.
Ray stopped with his hand to his lips to raise his eyebrows at Fraser.
“Something wrong with your food? You could order something else, I could wait?”
Fraser cracked his neck. “No, no it’s fine. Of course, the nutritional value of this particular salad is more-more than… than…”
Ray had leaned back and was currently licking the grease off his fingers with an expression very much like the cat that got the cream.
He gave his index finger a final lick before he pulled his fingertips a few inches away from his mouth. His eyes fixed on Fraser’s.
“Go on, I’m listening.”
“Ah, yes, as I was saying,”
And Ray continued to clean his fingers – even going so far as to insert them up to the first knuckle. But he looked completely focused on what Fraser was saying.
More to the question: What exactly was he saying?
“Yes?” Ray’s lips curved into an amused smile that he half-heartedly tried to suppress.
Ray’s fingers were shining with moisture and the urge to grab his hand and to taste them with his own tongue was so strong that it took physical effort to stay in his seat.
“I-Ray, this is terribly distracting,” Fraser confessed but instead of looking confused or even embarrassed Ray’s smile simply got bigger.
“Oh, it is? Sorry, buddy,” he swirled his tongue a final time over index and middle finger before settling his hands on the table top. In plain view. Fraser’s eyes were magnetically drawn to them.
“The nutritional value of the-the,” Fraser licked his lips absent-mindedly and raised his eyes to meet Ray’s who looked rather pleased with having rendered him momentarily speechless, “salad cannot be expected to be especially high seeing that it has been produced—“
Ray let Fraser’s explanation wash over him. The tips of Fraser’s ears were still a bit red and Ray had to cross his ankles underneath the table to contain his glee. Stage 1 ‘shaking up the Mountie’ was a huge success. Time for stage 2 – teasing was much more fun if you could take real credit for it.
The way Ray saw it this was more a challenge for his own self-control – planting all these suggestive images in Fraser’s mind without jumping the man – especially since Fraser would be one hell of a happy victim – wasn’t exactly his strong suit.
Acting innocent was one thing, being it was quite another matter and Ray’s mind was in the gutter more time than not when it came to Fraser without even acting out any sexual impulses his mind so helpfully provided.
What did that make him? He wondered. Was he a sadist for paying Fraser back like that or was he a masochist for pushing Fraser into retaliating even though he could just as well drag him straight into the bedroom? Ray smirked. He could ask Fraser once this was all over – hopefully with a post-sex glow to top it off.
Being subtle…mh, how should he put it? – Wasn’t exactly high on the list of Ray’s talents – getting physical, however, was a whole different kettle of fish. Fraser thought he had the monopoly for whispering suggestively into his ear or for licking his ice cream like he was giving the most enthusiastic blowjob ever? He hadn’t met Ray Kowalski yet.
In the end Fraser was so preoccupied that he didn’t even scold Ray for slipping Dief half a cheeseburger when they left the diner.
The next day Ray got creative with office supplies – Ray had the suspicion that Fraser had a secret fondness for stationery.
It was completely juvenile and Ray didn’t even give much crap about the whole Freudian thing but… well, Fraser was a clever guy and – as he had proven –nowhere near as innocent as people thought.
So while Fraser was going through a rather involved story about a guy named Jim and a beaver Ray picked up one of the pencils and balanced the tip of it on his desk and then he let it slide between his thumb and his index finger from the rubber end downward to the tip.
“…as you know Ray the beaver is the second-largest rodent in the world…”
Ray’s fingers came down to the tip so he switched the pencil around and started the smooth glide between his fingers anew.
At first it didn’t even look as if Fraser noticed Ray’s playing and Ray figured he probably played with stuff between his fingers all the time so he had to make the movement a bit clearer.
“…of course,” Fraser laughed quietly, “Jim didn’t know that herbivores prefer…”
Ray splayed his hand on the tabletop and put the tip of the pencil right between the grove where his middle and his index finger met the palm and started the slide down yet again.
“…and since an adult specimen can weigh up to 25 kg, that’s 55 pounds, he—“ Fraser suddenly stopped in mid-sentence and cleared his throat.
Ray looked up without stopping his movement and found Fraser transfixed by the show his fingers were putting on. Fraser’s cheeks took on a bit more color. “I, ah, would you excuse me for a second Ray? I need-I’ll be right back.” And with that Fraser rather hastily walked towards the rest rooms. His neck visibly red – a nice addition to the red of his serge Ray thought.
Strike 1 Ray grinned stupidly and gave the pencil a rest. Fraser had probably never done this juvenile stuff in school – Ray had a big advantage there.
Fraser came back a minute later looking rather composed under the circumstances and Ray pitied the fact that they were way too busy for the rest of their shift to pull any dirty tricks. And that evening Fraser had to get back to the consulate because he had promised Turnbull assistance with something or other – and with Turnbull Ray rather didn’t wanna to know.
So Ray lay alone on his couch that evening and pondered what else he could do that would have the desired effect on Fraser. Thinking wasn’t exactly his biggest friend at the moment, the last few days had left Ray in an almost constant state of arousal – it was like a low buzz that never completely faded away.
The knowledge of what his behavior did to Fraser was turning him on no matter how much he tried to stay focused on Fraser alone.
Food; food was good idea. Maybe it could distract him for a while. He shuffled through his leaflets for different take-outs, and came across one smudged, white piece of paper with a phone number written on it that was stuck between a brochure for a pizza delivery and one for a Thai restaurant.
Ray stared at it with sudden inspiration. Oh, that was way too good to pass up… and with a little help— this could be good. Fraser didn’t need to know the details; he thought while he dug through one of his drawers.
A moment later he pulled out a slightly squished packet of cigarettes with a triumphant grin.
His throat would hate him but this was so worth it.
Fraser was still wearing his jodhpurs and his Henley when the telephone rang. He had been reading through some of his father’s journals, hoping to find something about the dangers of desire or temptation or both but he hadn’t been able to concentrate on it very well.
He kept replaying the scene of Ray’s fingers playing with the pencil in his mind… did Ray know how much he loved his hands? Those eloquent, dexterous fingers… he bit his lip. It didn’t do at all to keep thinking about Ray and his beautiful hands and—the ringing of the telephone was a welcome distraction.
Fraser snatched up the receiver without even looking at the caller ID and opened his mouth to greet the caller when a gravelly voice beat him to it.
“Fraser,” the voice was more of a low murmur, slightly hoarse and it went straight to Fraser’s dick. He closed his eyes against the onslaught of mental pictures.
“Ray,” the name left his lips like a revelation. He was answered with a dark chuckle that sent another jolt to his groin. He pressed his hand against the desk to support himself and took a shaking breath.
“Hello, I-“ Fraser tried to shake the surreal feeling that he was already asleep and dreaming. “What can I do for you Ray?” He rubbed distractedly at his eyebrow.
Ray gave a sensual sigh. “You could help me sleep,” the smile could be heard in his voice and Fraser wondered if he had heard correctly.
“What is the problem?” A frog seemed to have taken lodgings in his throat.
“I can’t seem to relax, Fraser,” and the way Ray’s raspy voice pronounced his name was the material of a thousand late night fantasies… had his voice always been this rough?
“I’m just tossing and turning,” Ray made a short pause and it gave Fraser just enough time to picture Ray’s body stretched out over twisted sheets. “…and I thought you might be able to help me with that.”
“How?” Oh great, he was monosyllabic now.
There was the soft chuckle again and it sent a shiver down his spine. His dick was twitching in his pants and Fraser pressed the heel of his palm against his erection – hoping that a bit of pain might stave off the desire that licked like a flame in his gut but it only made the throbbing more acute.
“Heh, you’re the one with the never-ending knowledge of ways to relax, right?”
“Ah, yes,” Fraser tried to clear his throat. He recalled a vaguely similar conversation with Ray but it was only tickling the back of his mind. “Did you try a hot bath?” Fraser couldn’t stop his hand from rubbing against his cock through his trousers.
“Mhm,” Ray murmured and Fraser worried his bottom lip to keep the moan inside at the sound.
“I tried that… now I’m hot and I still can’t sleep,” Ray laughed quietly. His smoky voice did unspeakable things to Fraser’s imagination.
“Tried counting sheep, too. Didn’t help a bit, though. Anything else you can think of?” Ray’s tone was suggestive and Fraser was finally able to recall the conversation he had vaguely remembered before – and he understood what Ray was trying to accomplish.
“Masturbation,” Fraser whispered, closing his eyes tightly and forcing his hand back onto the desk because he understood now that nothing of this had been the fault of his own imagination – Ray had left nothing to chance.
Fraser’s tongue felt too thick for his mouth. He deserved this but it didn’t make the torture any easier to bear. His dick was still throbbing insistently in his pants— it obviously didn’t care that it wasn’t getting any relief any time soon.
Ray was getting even – so this was going to be his punishment. It seemed only fair… but fairness didn’t help with the desire he could feel thrumming through his veins or with the burning in his fingers that were longing to touch Ray or with the mental images his mind supplied – more graphic and realistic than was strictly necessary.
Ray released a shaky breath. This was affecting him worse than he had anticipated – he could spend the next few lifetimes getting Fraser to say ‘masturbation’ without any problems.
“Yeah, right… I could do that. You got the best of ideas, you know that Frase?” Ray’s voice was sinfully soft, did it sound like that during sex… or after, when he had moaned himself hoarse? A small whimper escaped Fraser’s lips despite his best efforts to keep quiet.
“You sound as if you could use some…relaxation, too.” Ray murmured gently.
“I-I’m fine,” Fraser managed to force out. He could get through this – he had no right to complain in any case. On what grounds could he possibly find fault with Ray’s behavior after his own lack of self-restraint?
Ray snorted quietly. “Whatever you say buddy… thanks for the advice. Nice dreams.” Fraser could picture Ray’s smirk clearly before him.
He had planned to say ‘you’re welcome’ or simply ‘good night’ but the only thing that left his throat was a strangled sound that caused Ray to huff out a quiet laugh.
Fraser was still standing in his office with the receiver pressed to his ear a long time after the line went dead.
Touching himself was completely out of the question. Ray deserved the feeling that he had “evened the score” so to speak. Fraser was a grown man, and a Mountie. He would take full responsibility for his actions.
If he had to suffer frustration he would do so. And maybe, he allowed himself to hope, maybe afterward – once he had suffered enough – Ray would be able to forgive his abysmal behavior.