Felonious Nature by akamine_chan
Title: Felonious Nature
Author: akamine_chan
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Smut, spitting, more smut. No angst in sight.
Length: A little over 2k words
Prompt: 24. Yellowknife councilor spitting mad over street spit
Notes: Many, many thanks to the_antichris for the 4am (my time) beta and all around excellent suggestions and comments. Any remaining mistakes are mine and most likely due to sleeplessness. ETA: awesome header created by roadrunner1896.
Fraser was concentrating on finishing his report on the near-riot at Skip's Tavern the previous night. Skip's Tavern was usually the center of activity on Saturday nights at Fort Reliant, population 2,514, so the sudden descent into anarchy needed to be carefully documented. Consequently, he hadn't heard the noise at first. By the time it registered on his consciousness, he had the suspicion that it had been going on for a while.
It sounded like a dying, asthmatic musk-ox trying to cough up a hairball, repeatedly. Not that he'd ever actually heard such a thing. Although he had once listened in stunned horror at the Ontario artist who had recorded the bellows of an entire herd of musk-oxen and strung the sounds together to make his music. Shaking his head at the memory, he put on his parka and went outside, driven by curiosity and civic duty. Stepping onto the snow-covered street, Fraser was surprised to see Ray and several teens gathered on the sidewalk in front of the general store. It was getting dark, but Ray was hard to miss in his outrageously bright orange hat with pom-poms. Fraser disliked that hat intensely. It was so...undignified. Sometimes, he was sure that Ray wore that hat just to annoy him.
As Fraser watched, Ray made a loud, throat-clearing noise and spat into the air, to the raucous cheers of the teenagers. It seemed to Fraser that he was trying to break some sort of distance record, though he wasn't sure why. With Ray, it was usually safer not to ask.
Ray turned to one of the boys and seemed to be explaining how to spit, accompanying his depiction with a great deal of arm waving and more of those phlegmy sounds. One of them attempted to follow Ray's example and came close to spitting on himself, much to his chagrin. The others laughed and heckled him good-naturedly, while Ray demonstrated his spitting technique again. The boys were familiar to Fraser; Ray, as an employee of the Department of Aboriginal Affairs Youth Division, was something of a mentor to these young men.
Unnoticed, Fraser took the opportunity to contemplate his partner and friend. During their adventure searching for the Hand of Franklin, Fraser had been driven to distraction by Ray's constant presence. The smell of him in their tent, a strangely arousing combination of sweat, musk and coffee. The sound of his soft snores in the night, close, familiar and comforting. Fraser found himself constantly on the verge of grabbing Ray and kissing him to see if his mouth was as wet as it looked.
Unwilling to put their friendship at risk, Fraser had kept his emotions rigidly under control, hidden away. He was used to self-denial; concealing what he felt for Ray was no different. He'd been so sure that he'd been successful, keeping Ray ignorant of his true feelings and preserving their partnership.
He had blinded himself to what was right in front of him. One night he had woken and found Ray leaning over him in the dark, his lips a breath away. Fraser couldn't stop himself; he had reached up, tangled his fingers in Ray's spiky hair and brought their mouths together. Remembering their first night together brought a hot flare of arousal and he shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the sudden tightness of his pants.
Sometimes Fraser wondered why Ray stayed with him. It was obvious from interactions like this that Ray was wonderful with children, especially teenage boys. He should have found a nice young woman and settled down with a house full of laughing children. He'd known that Stella hadn't wanted children and he felt guilty about taking away that possibility from Ray, so he'd given Ray plenty of opportunities to change his mind. Fraser had even insisted that Ray go back to Chicago after their adventure and continue to work for the CPD until he was eligible for retirement.
It had been the longest three years of his life. Fraser has fluctuated between being terrified that Ray would find someone else and half hoping that he would. It would have broken his heart, but he would have let him go gladly if that was what he wanted.
Instead, Ray had surprised him by selling the GTO and getting rid of most of his personal possessions. "It's all junk from another life, Fraser," he'd said, smiling. "I'm starting a new life with you. I don't need this stuff anymore." Fraser had swallowed hard at that and had pulled Ray into the bedroom to show his appreciation of the sentiment.
After Ray had taken his retirement, he had moved up to Fort Reliant with two duffel bags and a battered suitcase. All that was left of his life in Chicago. Fraser had met him at the little airfield and hugged him tightly once he was off the plane. He'd cupped Ray's head in his broad hands and looked into his blue eyes. Last chance. This was Ray's final chance to leave. After this, Fraser would not be able to let him go.
"Fraser. I'm sure." Ray had kissed him gently. "I love you. Let's go home."
Several years later and here they were, living in the Northwest Territories, with a home to call their own and a community that surrounded them with acceptance and friendship. They'd each made a place for themselves in this cold land, together. It made Fraser very glad to be alive.
One of the young men turned around and noticed Fraser watching them. "Oh, man, it's the cops. We're so busted!" At that, the boys took off running, scattering like buckshot, laughing like maniacs. "He started it, Corporal," one of them called back as he disappeared down the street.
Ray startled Fraser by bending over and howling. "Oh, my God! Did you hear that?" he gasped, laughing hard and swiping at his eyes. "I started it." That sent Ray off into fresh gales of laughter.
Fraser approached him, using every bit of willpower to keep the smile off of his face. "Ray. Ray, Ray, Ray. Ray."
Finally, Ray got his mirth under control, clutching at his ribs. "What, Fraser?"
He pulled Ray into a hard hug, overwhelmed by the feelings he had for this man. He rubbed his face against the orange hat and sighed. "What were you doing, Ray?"
He pulled back a little to look into Fraser's face. "Well, since the honorable," Ray snorted, "city councilors of Yellowknife passed that idiotic ordinance to ban spitting in public, I figured it's only a matter of time before the elders here do the same. And I thought I'd better teach these kids how to spit before it becomes a lost art."
One of Fraser's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Contributing to the delinquency of minors?" He took Ray's arm and started to lead him back towards the RCMP headquarters.
"Well, I'm not a cop anymore. I don't have to be a law-abiding citizen just because you are."
Fraser shook his head in disbelief. "So, your natural propensity towards criminality emerged?" Instead of going up the steps to his office, he led Ray to the small alley between buildings.
Ray grinned. "Yeah, something like that." He tried to pull free and Fraser tightened his grip on Ray's wrist, noting the way his cheeks were flushed in spite of the cold. Ray had never admitted it out loud, but Fraser was sure that Ray enjoyed it when he took control like this.
"It's a good thing that the immigration board didn't know about this tendency of yours. It usually rejects applications from those with a felonious nature." He stopped and glanced around. It was dark enough that no one was likely to see them. He looked at Ray, frowning sternly.
"Oh, yeah?" Ray looked at Fraser from under his lashes, coyly. "Whatcha gonna do about my felonious nature, Mountie?"
Fraser grabbed the front of his jacket and pushed him carefully back again the wall of the building, sliding his hand into Ray's hair under the hat and holding him just tightly enough to make him gasp. Fraser leaned and trapped Ray against the wall, cupping the growing bulge between his legs with an appreciative hand. Ray moaned softly and jerked at the contact.
"Well, as an officer of the RCMP..." Fraser trailed off to nip at the long tendons of Ray's neck, holding him still with his grip on his hair. Slowly, he nibbled his way up to Ray's ear, leaving faint marks on the golden flesh as he went along. "...I'm sworn to uphold the law." He traced the shape of Ray's hard penis behind the rough denim of his jeans, eliciting another of those beautiful groans. "To arrest those who have broken the law..." He bit at Ray's earlobe and smirked when he felt him shudder.
Fraser traced the outer edge of Ray's ear with the tip of his tongue, rubbing harder with his hand, enjoying the way Ray tried to thrust against him, but couldn't. He was pinned to the wall by Fraser's greater weight and the realization forced a quiet whimper out of him.
"Please, Fraser," he panted, licking his lips.
Fraser chuckled wickedly. "Not yet, Ray." Soothingly, he licked at Ray's ear. He slowly unbuttoned Ray's pants. "You're hard for me," he said, swallowing at the desperate sound Ray made."So hard." He lowered the zipper carefully, not wanting to hurt Ray.
"Fraser-"
"Hmmm?" Fraser slowly pushed his hand into Ray's pants, navigating through the layers of fabric to find hot, silky flesh, damp with sweat. He inhaled sharply, smelling Ray's arousal. "Criminals need to be brought before the law and punished as necessary."
"Oh. Gonna-gonna punish me?" Ray could barely get the words out. He tried thrusting against Fraser's warm hand, but he was still trapped against the wall. He wanted to complain, but what came out of his mouth was close to a whine.
Fraser could feel how near to the edge Ray was. He wondered if he could send him over with just words. It would be an interesting experiment... "Oh, yes, Ray. I think you need to be punished." He tightened his fingers in Ray's hair and pulled slightly. "I think you need to be taught a lesson."
Fraser kissed Ray's forehead and took a deep breath, trying to slow down. "I've often imagined handcuffing you to our bed. Your arms above your head, spread out just for me." He licked his lips, imagining it, Ray sprawled out on the blue sheets of the bed. "I'd take you into my mouth slowly. You taste so sweet and I love feeling how hard you are on my tongue," he whispered quietly. "I love the way your skin feels, like velvet over steel. So soft." He stroked the stiff flesh in his hand. "You wouldn't be able to do anything but lie there take what I give to you."
Ray trembled. "Fraser-oh, God!"
He bit at Ray's earlobe again, knowing that was an extremely sensitive spot. "Let go, Ray."
"Oh!" His cry was choked off as he tensed and came all over Fraser's hand, gasping incoherently. Fraser gentled his hand and kissed Ray repeatedly, loving that he could made Ray orgasm like that.
"Evil Mountie," Ray panted, letting Fraser keep him pressed up against the wall. His legs were too shaky to hold him up. "Stop it, I can hear you smirking!"
Fraser hid his face in Ray's neck. "Sorry, Ray." Carefully, he tucked Ray back into his jeans and zipped him up.
Ray hugged him hard. "Fraser, I think you need to take me home. I'm feeling the urge to commit some crimes..."
Fraser stifled a laugh. "Understood, Ray."
-fin-