For Sprat by bohemian__storm
So much love and gratitude and thanks to helleboredoll for her amazing beta work and for making this fic better. Thank you. :)
Hyperthermia
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Ray did not want to be found dead on the floor of a Florida hotel with a naked Mountie sprawled on top of him. Or maybe he did. He supposed there were worse ways to go.
Pairing: F/K
When Fraser said he wanted to take a vacation with Ray, Ray was all over that. He was into it, cool with it, down with it and a thousand other slangs that meant 'yes' in Ray. When Fraser said he wanted their destination to be a surprise, Ray had smirked, but nodded, knowing Fraser was just going to load him up in some bush plane headed for the ass end of nowhere, also known as Canada, and Ray was strangely okay with that. Fraser had come back to Chicago to be with Ray. Ray figured it was only fair that he let Fraser bundle him up in seventeen layers and ship him off to Canada for a few weeks every now and then. And when Fraser had ushered Ray onto a regular plane -- the kind that Ray could fly in and even sleep on without having to be sedated or drunk -- Ray just figured Canada had finally entered the twentieth century and maybe snuck an airport into Inuvik since the last time he was there.
But when Fraser nudged Ray awake and whispered that they had arrived, Ray knew they sure as hell weren't in Canada.
"Fraser," Ray said carefully, squinting against the sun coming through the windows of the air port. "This is not the Arctic."
"Correct, but neither is Canada, Ray," Fraser replied, shielding his eyes with his hand. "This is, in fact--"
"Florida," Ray finished, pointing at the sign that said 'Southwest Florida International Airport' and turning to glare at Fraser. "Florida. Y'know, the state my ex-wife moved to with your ex-partner to open a freaking bowling alley? That state. The state with Mickey freaking Mouse everywhere you turn. The state that makes orange juice. That state. That Florida. So what the hell are we doin' in Florida?"
"Getting some sun." With that Fraser gave Ray a brilliant smile and turned to walk toward the baggage claim, all tucked in and snapped up into his stupid wool uniform, girls with too dark tans and too blonde hair staring at him as he passed. Ray cursed under his breath, stomped his feet a few times, received a few strange looks, returned a few strange looks with a 'yeah, I'm stomping my feet, what the fuck of it?' glare, then followed Fraser, hoping the Mountie died of heat stroke inside his stupid uniform.
--
An hour later Ray's wish that Fraser died of heat stroke in his uniform was turning out to be less funny and more reality. At first Ray had laughed when Fraser's face went a little pink and he began to tug at the collar of his uniform. When Fraser's skin went red and his hand on Ray's leg began to feel like it was burning straight through Ray's skin and all the way to his bones, it became a lot less funny. The air conditioning in their taxi was broken or turned off or something stupid and their driver was pretending not to speak English, but Ray knew damn well that the man understood him when he shouted, "Put the pedal to the fucking metal so I can make sure he doesn't die, jackass!" because the car sped up significantly and they arrived at the hotel in record time.
"Ray, I'm fine," Fraser insisted, leaning heavily against Ray as they walked from the taxi to the hotel. "Really, it's just a mild cause of heat exhaustion and once my body temperature has dropped approximately--"
"Fraser?" Ray said, heaving the Mountie against the wall of the hotel as he struggled with the door.
"Yes, Ray?"
"Shut up."
"Yes, Ray," Fraser said, and Ray turned to look at him, stunned. Fraser never agreed to shut up when Ray told him to. In fact, every time Ray told Fraser to shut up they usually ended up yelling at each other at the tops of their lungs while the entire precinct looked on. Usually (usually) they weren't fighting about their relationship, which was a good thing in Ray's mind, but about some case they were working on. It had never occured to Ray before he and Fraser started doing what they were doing that working with the person you lived with (and the person you kissed, fucked, held, loved) was sometimes a really difficult thing to do.
"You're sick," Ray said, then put Fraser's arm around his shoulders again and dragged him into the hotel.
"I hardly think that my heat stroke has anything to do with mental disturbances, Ray." Fraser giggled and Ray had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing because Fraser giggling was just too much. "Although, one might say that I am mentally--"
"I meant sick, buddy. Sick, as in ill, y'know?"
"Ah." Fraser nodded as they approached the front desk, then bent over and threw up in the trash can.
Ray winced, then turned to face the front desk, attempting a smile. Fraser continued to retch violently behind Ray as he confirmed their reservation and took their room key from the man at the front desk who spent the entire time staring at Fraser's heaving back. Ray thanked him, took the key, touched Fraser's back and the Mountie straightened and headed toward the elevator, taking the trash can with him.
"I'll, um... bring that back," Ray said, trying to look apologetic.
"Keep it."
--
The one place Ray never figured he would be was in an extremely nice hotel room (which Ray would give Fraser shit about later because the place must have cost a fortune) with Fraser clinging to a trash can he had recently thrown up in and giggling like an idiot while Ray tried to coerce him out of his uniform.
Any other time Ray would've found this funny, but any fit of laughter would have died in the elevator when Fraser had handed him the trash can just as his eyes had rolled back in his head and Ray had watched as the Mountie hit the floor. That hadn't been funny. That had freaked Ray out and he was two seconds away from slamming the emergency button and getting someone to call an ambulance when Fraser sat up and rubbed his face. Ray asked him in a trembling voice if he needed to go to a hospital, but Fraser insisted that he'd be fine. He knew how to treat hyperthermia just as he knew how to treat hypothermia (which Ray had learned first hand when he fell through the ice during their adventure) and nine thousand other illnesses Ray had never heard of.
Fraser started at A and was up to listing illnesses and diseases starting with C by the time Ray convinced him to put down the garbage can.
"Calcific Bursitis," Fraser said, handing Ray the can. "Canavan disease. Cataplexy, which is a sleep disorder and we'll revisit when I get to N as narcolepsy."
"Okay, buddy," Ray said, putting the trash can down on the floor near the door. He'd have to get rid of that later. "C'mere. We're gonna get you outta that hot uniform and into..." Into what? It wasn't very likely Fraser had brought shorts on the trip.
"Into what?" Fraser asked, eyebrows raised.
"Into bein' naked," Ray snapped. "What kind of idiot goes to Florida and doesn't bring a pair of shorts, huh? Jesus, Fraser." Ray reached out and began to unbuckle and unsnap and the only reason he wasn't ripping the damn thing was because he'd done this so many times already that he was almost as good as Fraser at getting the uniform undone. "I packed for freaking Canada, y'know? You told me it was a surprise and I packed for Canada."
"You did?" Fraser asked, surprised. His hands covered Ray's and Ray looked at him. "You packed for Canada?"
Ray nodded and pressed his hands flat against Fraser's chest before he began to undo the buttons of the tunic. "Yeah, buddy. You say vacation and I think you mean home."
"Oh," Fraser said quietly as he dropped his hands to help Ray get the tunic off. It fell to the floor, a rumpled pile of red and Fraser looked down at it. "I wanted to take you somewhere that you'd want to be."
Ray grinned, unsnapped Fraser's suspenders and said, "I wanna be anywhere you are, you big freak."
"Oh," Fraser said again and then passed out.
In the time it had taken Fraser to hit the ground, Ray had managed to almost catch him and turn him onto his back, which made getting him completely naked a little bit easier. Trying to wrestle him into the bathroom had seemed so easy at first, but Fraser's unconscious body was having none of it. Fraser's unconscious body was rebelling in every way it could manage.
The flailing limbs and dead weight Ray could deal with. What he couldn't deal with was when Fraser's unconscious body decided it wanted to snuggle and wormed its way into Ray's arms, Fraser's face pressed into his throat. Ray wouldn't admit it (because even if he was sleeping with another man, he was going to keep the tattered remnants of his masculinity, thank you very kindly) but he kind of liked when Fraser's body decided it wanted to cuddle. Although, Fraser was usually conscious at that point and cuddling tended to lead to someone having their dick sucked or came right after it, which Ray knew wasn't about to happen.
"Goddammit, Fraser," Ray growled, then shoved the Mountie back to the floor. He was pretty sure you weren't supposed to shove unconscious guys who might be dying from heat stroke, but the way things were going Ray would expire before he even managed to get Fraser anywhere near the bathtub and a week later someone would report a terrible stench coming from their room. Ray did not want to be found dead on the floor of a Florida hotel with a naked Mountie sprawled on top of him. Or maybe he did. He supposed there were worse ways to go.
Sitting against the wall, Ray studied Fraser and wondered if he should call an ambulance. He'd read somewhere that heat stroke could cause weird behavior and rapid pulse. Ray leaned forward and pressed his fingers into Fraser's wrist, searching for his pulse. He found it a few seconds later and it felt like it was going too fast. Far too fast. Ray started to panic. He'd also read that heat stroke could cause seizures and coma, and the second he remembered that he was convinced that he saw Fraser twitch.
"I swear to God, Fraser, if you have a seizure I am gonna kill you. Now you got three seconds to wake up or I am gonna kick you in the head. Three. Two--"
The sort of threat which never would have worked if Fraser had been conscious more than did the trick this time and Fraser opened his eyes and looked up at Ray.
"I appear to be naked, Ray," he said conversationally and Ray growled deep in his throat. Fraser smiled charmingly in response.
"You are going to be the deadest dead Mountie to ever die if you don't help me get your ass in the bathtub right now," Ray said, trying to sound threatening. It generally didn't work on Fraser because Fraser always knew that Ray didn't mean it when he threatened to kill him. Ray was banking on the fact that Fraser was mildly delusional to help him out with the threats this time.
"Yes, sir," Fraser said, then saluted, which looked completely ridiculous considering Fraser was naked and lying flat on his back on the hotel room floor. Then he giggled and asked, "Just my ass?"
Ray glared at him.
Fraser sighed, then struggled to sit up, blinking at the floor for a few seconds before he looked up at Ray. "Do you think you could possibly give me a hand, Ray?"
Ray sighed as well, then held out his hand to Fraser and dragged him to his feet. "Yeah, sure. But I swear to god, you yak on me and I am goin' home and leaving your sorry Canadian ass in the bath filled with cold water until you shrivel up and die of pruning." Fraser giggled as Ray led him toward the bathroom and Ray growled in the back of his throat again. "If you keep giggling like that I'm gonna tape your mouth shut."
"I am not giggling," Fraser said, sounding scandalized. "Giggling is an activity that Turnbull is much more inclined to participate in. I, on the other hand, am not inclined in such ways."
"Yeah, well, I didn't think you were inclined to give blowjobs to Chicago cops with experimental hair, either," Ray said, then shouldered his way into the bathroom. "But I turned out to be wrong, didn't I?"
Fraser opened his mouth to reply, then flushed bright red and nodded.
"Okay, buddy," Ray said, helping Fraser lean against the wall, then reaching down to twist the taps. "Get into the tub. Cool water will make you feel better."
Fraser nodded and said, "Indeed," then stepped into the bathtub unsteadily, holding onto the wall for support. The cool water rushed into the tub as he lowered himself into a sitting position and Ray crumpled into a vaguely cross legged position on the floor beside the tub, testing the water every so often with his hand. Ray reached toward the counter for a wash cloth, dipping it into the water and bringing it up to Fraser's forehead, wiping it over his skin. Droplets of water slid down Fraser's nose and chin, down his cheeks and dripped into his chest, tracing patterns Ray followed with his eyes. The water in the tub reached Fraser's chest, so Ray reached for the taps once more and turned them off, then soaked the cloth in the water. He had a feeling it was going to be a long day.
--
Even after Ray noticed that Fraser's skin was beginning to prune he continued to drag the cloth back and forth over Fraser's chest slowly. Fraser's eyes had closed almost immediately after Ray had begun to move the cloth over his skin and Ray enjoyed the opportunity he had been given to just look at Fraser, his eyes following the cloth everywhere it went as Ray wet Fraser's skin. Every drop of water that trickled down Fraser's throat and over his chest, Ray watched until it slid under the water, then he started again with a fresh drop of water.
"How you feeling?" Ray asked eventually, resisting the very strong urge to lean in and lick the drop of water that was quivering on the end of Fraser's chin.
"Better," Fraser said, opening his eyes. "Better, Ray. Thank you kindly."
"Gotta admit, I was worried there for a second." Ray raised the cloth to Fraser's shoulder and squeezed it, tiny rivers running over Fraser's collar bone and chest. "You were kinda... y'know, kooky."
The corner of Fraser's mouth quirked up and he looked at Ray sleepily. "As opposed to my usual rock solid mental state?"
"Yeah," Ray said, then gave in and leaned in to run his tongue over the water on Fraser's chin. "As opposed to that."
Fraser inhaled sharply, then lifted a hand out of the water to circle Ray's wrist, stilling the cloth on his chest. "You didn't have to do this for me, you know. I would have been fine."
Ray shrugged and moved in order to lick the water clinging to Fraser's ear. "Didn't want you to die."
"It's extremely unlikely I would have died, Ray."
"Mmm," Ray replied, sucking Fraser's earlobe into his mouth, then bit it gently before releasing it. "Wanted to be sure."
"Yes," Fraser said, his voice rough. "Well. Thank you kindly. Once again."
"Thank you kindly, Fraser," Ray replied, continuing to lick each and every droplet of water that he could find on the skin of Fraser's throat.
"What for?" Fraser asked, his other hand coming out of the water to cup the back of Ray's head. Ray could feel water running down his scalp and trickling behind his ear as he shifted and licked the corner of Fraser's mouth.
"For gettin' naked," he said, grinning, then kissed Fraser hard, dropping the cloth into the water and gripping Fraser's bicep. Fraser returned the kiss just as hard, proving to Ray that Fraser felt as good as he claimed. Ray twisted from his position on the floor and got up onto his knees, attempting to get Fraser to stand so they could work their way toward the large bed Ray had seen earlier, but Fraser seemed to have a different idea.
As Ray got unsteadily to his knees Fraser pulled him forward and used the momentum to twist Ray's body, and Ray would have smashed the back of his head against the wall if Fraser hadn't been able to control his fall. Instead, Ray ended up sitting in Fraser's lap in the bathtub, the cool water soaking through denim and cotton, blinking up at Fraser like he couldn't believe what had just happened.
"You..." he said, blinking again.
"Pulled you into the tub," Fraser said, then cupped the back of Ray's head and leaned down to kiss him again. Ray tried to say something in response, but Fraser's tongue was doing its best to make Ray forget he even had the capacity to speak as it flicked against Ray's lips impatiently. Uncomfortable as it was to be sitting in Fraser's lap, half-twisted against Fraser's chest, the water rapidly cooling Ray's thighs, hips and other important parts, he couldn't resist the way Fraser was kissing him.
Ray had never really been able to resist anyone who kissed with even half as much enthusiasm as Fraser, so resisting Fraser had pretty much been impossible from the getgo. Without breaking their contact, Ray twisted, dragged both legs into the tub and put one knee on either side of Fraser's body, completely soaking his jeans and socks.
Straddling Fraser's lap in a bathtub filled with cold water had never made it onto Ray's list of Sex Things To Do With Fraser (it was only a mental list because not even Ray was stupid enough to write down any list that had 'sex' and 'Fraser' in the title), but it was turning out to be more fun than Ray would have originally thought. For one, Fraser was wet, which was always fun in Ray's books. On top of being wet, Fraser's strength was rapidly returning and he was practically clawing at Ray's clothing, trying to pull off his t-shirt and undo his wet jeans at the same time, and knowing that Fraser was that desperate to touch his skin made Ray hornier and more sentimental than he ever thought possible. Ray decided that being naked took precedence over kissing, so he bit Fraser's bottom lip sharply before pulling away to get his t-shirt over his head, panting roughly the entire time. The shirt fell to the bathroom floor with a wet smacking noise, but Ray could barely hear anything over Fraser's quiet and needy groans.
"Fraser," he said, then ducked his head to lick water off Fraser's throat. "M'never gonna get outta my jeans in the tub. Gotta..." Ray groaned when Fraser gripped his hips and thrust up against him, his breathing ragged. "Gotta get up."
"Yes," Fraser agreed, then waited while Ray stood, water pouring off him. "Functional plan." As soon as Ray was standing Fraser stood as well and backed Ray up against the wall as he undid Ray's jeans, struggling to push them off his hips. The wet denim clung to his skin and Fraser growled in frustration, then knelt in the water, yanking Ray's jeans as hard as he could.
A few tugs later they came down, taking Ray's underwear with them and Fraser made an appreciative noise, then leaned in to nuzzle Ray's hip. Ray's fingers scabbled for purchase on the wet tile behind him as Fraser's mouth travelled over Ray's hipbone and across his stomach, pausing every so often to lick Ray's skin. Ray tried to kick his jeans off the rest of the way, but he only succeeded in kicking Fraser's thigh, earning himself a particularly sharp nip against the skin just above his groin.
"This is not working, Ray," Fraser said, his lips still moving against Ray's body. "We need to get you out of your jeans."
"Yeah," Ray agreed, looking down and resisting to urge to guide Fraser's mouth to his cock. "Yeah, okay."
Somehow, between both of them, Fraser managed to stand and hold tightly to Ray's biceps while Ray kicked off his socks, jeans and briefs as Fraser pressed him into the wall of the shower and kissed him. Before Ray even realized how they'd managed it, Ray was naked and Fraser was roughly pushing him toward the bathroom door and toward the bed. Ray's socks, jeans and briefs were under a foot of water and neither of them had thought to pull the plug, which Ray figured he'd regret in about an hour because he had only brought one pair of jeans (and four pairs of sweats and a pair of ski pants).
For now, though, Ray was perfectly content to let Fraser push him toward the bed and shove him down on top of the coverlet, climbing onto the bed himself to straddle Ray's hips. For a second Fraser remained there, his thighs on either side of Ray's body and his hands on Ray's shoulders, and he stared at Ray. He stared at all of Ray that he could see. He stared at Ray's cock, hard against Fraser's leg, he stared at Ray's stomach, his ribs, the light blonde hair on Ray's arms and the way the muscles in Ray's shoulders flexed and moved under Fraser's hands. He stared at Ray's chin and mouth, his nose, his hair, his eyes. He stared at Ray so hard that Ray began to wiggle under Fraser and a flush crept up the back of his neck until Fraser finally grinned and leaned down to kiss Ray sweetly.
Given the chance, Ray would have asked what that was for, but Fraser didn't give him the chance. The sweet kiss morphed into a wet, hot kiss as Fraser's tongue swept into Ray's mouth when he opened it to speak and all that came out of Ray was a low moan. The comforter felt wet under Ray's back and he was suddenly aware of both their bodies still dripping water, dripping onto the bed, but Fraser was taking care to mirror Ray's actions from earlier and his tongue slid around Ray's ear, behind his ear, along the line of his jaw, licking droplets of water as he went. Ray gave another groan when Fraser paused at his collar bone, studying it, then lapped at the water gathered in the hollow of his throat.
He'd always known Fraser liked to lick things. It was kind of impossible not to notice Fraser's affinity for sticking his tongue into things when one of those things was an electrical socket, but Ray had never really known how much Fraser liked to lick things until he and Fraser had been naked together that first time. Ray figured he should have known, but he hadn't and when Fraser's tongue had begun to explore Ray's body it had been like a thousand displays of fireworks going off behind his eyes (clichéd as that was, Ray kind of liked how it sounded) and it never got old.
"God, Fraser," Ray managed to say, just as Fraser's mouth left his body and he lowered himself down on top of Ray. If this is what came with Florida Ray had completely changed his mind. He liked Florida. Hell, he loved Florida and he loved Fraser with heat stroke even more than he loved Florida. Fraser with heat stroke turned into Fraser with a one track mind and Ray was all over one track minded Fraser.
Rather, one track minded Fraser was all over him, his hips surging against Ray's and his mouth latching on to that spot just below Ray's jaw that pretty much guaranteed Ray was going to come all over Fraser in about three minutes if he kept it up. Ray jerked his head to the side, trying to pull his neck out of reach, but Fraser merely groaned and followed Ray with his mouth, biting and licking all of Ray's throat that he could reach. Ray sunk both his hands into Fraser's hair and curled his fingers, trying to make it clear to Fraser that this whole thing would be over if he kept doing that thing he was doing, but Fraser was either playing stupid again or he was just being a stubborn jackass. Ray could never really tell the difference, but at a time like this it hardly mattered. His hands loosened in Fraser's hair, then ran down Fraser's back, fingers kneading his skin. When Fraser nipped his throat sharply, Ray made a muffled noise of surprise and dropped both hands off Fraser's body. With another groan, Fraser yanked both of Ray's hands above his head and pinned his wrists to the mattress, grinding against Ray's hips roughly.
Fraser had never done this before, Fraser had never pinned Ray down, although Ray knew he could. He knew Fraser was stronger and usually just knowing it was enough, but Fraser's hands tightening on his wrists sent bolts of pleasure down Ray's arms and straight to his groin. Fraser was always possessive, but this was possessive on a whole new level and Ray was moaning incoherently, loving every second, fighting Fraser just enough to make it seem like he didn't love being the submissive one in this situation.
With a strangled half-sob, Ray strained upward, pushing against the hands holding him down and Fraser's hips, trying to rub his cock against Fraser's skin just to feel the heat of Fraser's body and the friction between them. Fraser was panting roughly against Ray's throat, the rhythm of his hips erractic as Ray struggled to match it, then just gave up and gave in to Fraser thrusting on top of him. There was no ceremony, no kissing, no stroking each other and smiling and doing the stupid romantic things that Ray loved more than he was willing to admit, there was just Fraser's body and his body and Fraser's breath was cool on Ray's wet skin.
Then Fraser found that spot again, that place on Ray's throat and Fraser's teeth nipped sharply before he began to suck on Ray's skin, his moans vibrating across Ray's throat and Ray would swear he could feel those moans all the way up into his brain. He was trying to speak, his hips still moving with Fraser's, his cock sliding against Fraser's, sliding against Fraser's wet hip, but he couldn't. He was trying to tell Fraser to let go of his skin, to knock it off unless he wanted this whole thing to end within seconds, but all Ray could do was moan breathlessly and tighten both hands into fists as he came. He felt like he came forever, Fraser's mouth on his throat wringing everything out of him including a long, low groan that ended just as Fraser's began.
Just as Ray decided there was no way he would ever be able to get hard again because he was just that done, he felt Fraser's hips drive down on his own one final time and then he felt Fraser coming against the skin of his stomach and Ray couldn't believe that even after that, even after feeling so completely done, the feel of Fraser coming could make every part of him feel turned on again. As Fraser's grip on his wrists loosened, Ray wondered how long it would be before he could really get turned on again so they could spend the rest of the vacation doing exactly what they'd just been doing.
Fraser sprawled heavily on top of Ray, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. A moment later he laughed quietly and murmured, "I think I have heat stroke again," against Ray's throat.
Ray grinned and ran his fingers through Fraser's damp hair. "I think I caught your heat stroke."
"It's not contagious, Ray."
"Is too, you big freak," Ray said, then took Fraser's hand in his own.
There was silence for a long time, then Fraser moved off Ray and looked at him seriously. "Did you really think I was going to take you to Canada for a vacation?"
Ray raised his eyebrows and squeezed Fraser's hand. "You really want me to answer that?"
Fraser nodded, his eyes wide and serious, so Ray sighed.
"Yeah, I thought you were gonna take me to Canada for a vacation. You're a weird Canadian freak, remember? You do stuff like that." Fraser continued to study him so seriously that Ray laughed and shifted on the bed so he could kiss Fraser. "I also meant it when I said I wanna be anywhere you are, okay?" he asked, then covered Fraser's mouth with his own.
"Even when I vomit in a trash can?" Fraser asked when they broke apart, looking embarrassed.
"Yeah," Ray said, then shrugged. "Even when you vomit in a trash can. Maybe especially when you vomit in a trash can." Off Fraser's raised eyebrows, Ray grinned and shrugged again. "I'd do pretty much anything for you."
The room was quiet for a long time, Ray's body rapidly cooling as the air conditioner whirred to life and the water dried on his skin. He closed his eyes just as Fraser's hand rested heavily on his chest and a moment later Fraser's mouth was pressed to his ear as he murmured, "And I you, Ray."
Hyperthermia
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Ray did not want to be found dead on the floor of a Florida hotel with a naked Mountie sprawled on top of him. Or maybe he did. He supposed there were worse ways to go.
Pairing: F/K
When Fraser said he wanted to take a vacation with Ray, Ray was all over that. He was into it, cool with it, down with it and a thousand other slangs that meant 'yes' in Ray. When Fraser said he wanted their destination to be a surprise, Ray had smirked, but nodded, knowing Fraser was just going to load him up in some bush plane headed for the ass end of nowhere, also known as Canada, and Ray was strangely okay with that. Fraser had come back to Chicago to be with Ray. Ray figured it was only fair that he let Fraser bundle him up in seventeen layers and ship him off to Canada for a few weeks every now and then. And when Fraser had ushered Ray onto a regular plane -- the kind that Ray could fly in and even sleep on without having to be sedated or drunk -- Ray just figured Canada had finally entered the twentieth century and maybe snuck an airport into Inuvik since the last time he was there.
But when Fraser nudged Ray awake and whispered that they had arrived, Ray knew they sure as hell weren't in Canada.
"Fraser," Ray said carefully, squinting against the sun coming through the windows of the air port. "This is not the Arctic."
"Correct, but neither is Canada, Ray," Fraser replied, shielding his eyes with his hand. "This is, in fact--"
"Florida," Ray finished, pointing at the sign that said 'Southwest Florida International Airport' and turning to glare at Fraser. "Florida. Y'know, the state my ex-wife moved to with your ex-partner to open a freaking bowling alley? That state. The state with Mickey freaking Mouse everywhere you turn. The state that makes orange juice. That state. That Florida. So what the hell are we doin' in Florida?"
"Getting some sun." With that Fraser gave Ray a brilliant smile and turned to walk toward the baggage claim, all tucked in and snapped up into his stupid wool uniform, girls with too dark tans and too blonde hair staring at him as he passed. Ray cursed under his breath, stomped his feet a few times, received a few strange looks, returned a few strange looks with a 'yeah, I'm stomping my feet, what the fuck of it?' glare, then followed Fraser, hoping the Mountie died of heat stroke inside his stupid uniform.
--
An hour later Ray's wish that Fraser died of heat stroke in his uniform was turning out to be less funny and more reality. At first Ray had laughed when Fraser's face went a little pink and he began to tug at the collar of his uniform. When Fraser's skin went red and his hand on Ray's leg began to feel like it was burning straight through Ray's skin and all the way to his bones, it became a lot less funny. The air conditioning in their taxi was broken or turned off or something stupid and their driver was pretending not to speak English, but Ray knew damn well that the man understood him when he shouted, "Put the pedal to the fucking metal so I can make sure he doesn't die, jackass!" because the car sped up significantly and they arrived at the hotel in record time.
"Ray, I'm fine," Fraser insisted, leaning heavily against Ray as they walked from the taxi to the hotel. "Really, it's just a mild cause of heat exhaustion and once my body temperature has dropped approximately--"
"Fraser?" Ray said, heaving the Mountie against the wall of the hotel as he struggled with the door.
"Yes, Ray?"
"Shut up."
"Yes, Ray," Fraser said, and Ray turned to look at him, stunned. Fraser never agreed to shut up when Ray told him to. In fact, every time Ray told Fraser to shut up they usually ended up yelling at each other at the tops of their lungs while the entire precinct looked on. Usually (usually) they weren't fighting about their relationship, which was a good thing in Ray's mind, but about some case they were working on. It had never occured to Ray before he and Fraser started doing what they were doing that working with the person you lived with (and the person you kissed, fucked, held, loved) was sometimes a really difficult thing to do.
"You're sick," Ray said, then put Fraser's arm around his shoulders again and dragged him into the hotel.
"I hardly think that my heat stroke has anything to do with mental disturbances, Ray." Fraser giggled and Ray had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing because Fraser giggling was just too much. "Although, one might say that I am mentally--"
"I meant sick, buddy. Sick, as in ill, y'know?"
"Ah." Fraser nodded as they approached the front desk, then bent over and threw up in the trash can.
Ray winced, then turned to face the front desk, attempting a smile. Fraser continued to retch violently behind Ray as he confirmed their reservation and took their room key from the man at the front desk who spent the entire time staring at Fraser's heaving back. Ray thanked him, took the key, touched Fraser's back and the Mountie straightened and headed toward the elevator, taking the trash can with him.
"I'll, um... bring that back," Ray said, trying to look apologetic.
"Keep it."
--
The one place Ray never figured he would be was in an extremely nice hotel room (which Ray would give Fraser shit about later because the place must have cost a fortune) with Fraser clinging to a trash can he had recently thrown up in and giggling like an idiot while Ray tried to coerce him out of his uniform.
Any other time Ray would've found this funny, but any fit of laughter would have died in the elevator when Fraser had handed him the trash can just as his eyes had rolled back in his head and Ray had watched as the Mountie hit the floor. That hadn't been funny. That had freaked Ray out and he was two seconds away from slamming the emergency button and getting someone to call an ambulance when Fraser sat up and rubbed his face. Ray asked him in a trembling voice if he needed to go to a hospital, but Fraser insisted that he'd be fine. He knew how to treat hyperthermia just as he knew how to treat hypothermia (which Ray had learned first hand when he fell through the ice during their adventure) and nine thousand other illnesses Ray had never heard of.
Fraser started at A and was up to listing illnesses and diseases starting with C by the time Ray convinced him to put down the garbage can.
"Calcific Bursitis," Fraser said, handing Ray the can. "Canavan disease. Cataplexy, which is a sleep disorder and we'll revisit when I get to N as narcolepsy."
"Okay, buddy," Ray said, putting the trash can down on the floor near the door. He'd have to get rid of that later. "C'mere. We're gonna get you outta that hot uniform and into..." Into what? It wasn't very likely Fraser had brought shorts on the trip.
"Into what?" Fraser asked, eyebrows raised.
"Into bein' naked," Ray snapped. "What kind of idiot goes to Florida and doesn't bring a pair of shorts, huh? Jesus, Fraser." Ray reached out and began to unbuckle and unsnap and the only reason he wasn't ripping the damn thing was because he'd done this so many times already that he was almost as good as Fraser at getting the uniform undone. "I packed for freaking Canada, y'know? You told me it was a surprise and I packed for Canada."
"You did?" Fraser asked, surprised. His hands covered Ray's and Ray looked at him. "You packed for Canada?"
Ray nodded and pressed his hands flat against Fraser's chest before he began to undo the buttons of the tunic. "Yeah, buddy. You say vacation and I think you mean home."
"Oh," Fraser said quietly as he dropped his hands to help Ray get the tunic off. It fell to the floor, a rumpled pile of red and Fraser looked down at it. "I wanted to take you somewhere that you'd want to be."
Ray grinned, unsnapped Fraser's suspenders and said, "I wanna be anywhere you are, you big freak."
"Oh," Fraser said again and then passed out.
In the time it had taken Fraser to hit the ground, Ray had managed to almost catch him and turn him onto his back, which made getting him completely naked a little bit easier. Trying to wrestle him into the bathroom had seemed so easy at first, but Fraser's unconscious body was having none of it. Fraser's unconscious body was rebelling in every way it could manage.
The flailing limbs and dead weight Ray could deal with. What he couldn't deal with was when Fraser's unconscious body decided it wanted to snuggle and wormed its way into Ray's arms, Fraser's face pressed into his throat. Ray wouldn't admit it (because even if he was sleeping with another man, he was going to keep the tattered remnants of his masculinity, thank you very kindly) but he kind of liked when Fraser's body decided it wanted to cuddle. Although, Fraser was usually conscious at that point and cuddling tended to lead to someone having their dick sucked or came right after it, which Ray knew wasn't about to happen.
"Goddammit, Fraser," Ray growled, then shoved the Mountie back to the floor. He was pretty sure you weren't supposed to shove unconscious guys who might be dying from heat stroke, but the way things were going Ray would expire before he even managed to get Fraser anywhere near the bathtub and a week later someone would report a terrible stench coming from their room. Ray did not want to be found dead on the floor of a Florida hotel with a naked Mountie sprawled on top of him. Or maybe he did. He supposed there were worse ways to go.
Sitting against the wall, Ray studied Fraser and wondered if he should call an ambulance. He'd read somewhere that heat stroke could cause weird behavior and rapid pulse. Ray leaned forward and pressed his fingers into Fraser's wrist, searching for his pulse. He found it a few seconds later and it felt like it was going too fast. Far too fast. Ray started to panic. He'd also read that heat stroke could cause seizures and coma, and the second he remembered that he was convinced that he saw Fraser twitch.
"I swear to God, Fraser, if you have a seizure I am gonna kill you. Now you got three seconds to wake up or I am gonna kick you in the head. Three. Two--"
The sort of threat which never would have worked if Fraser had been conscious more than did the trick this time and Fraser opened his eyes and looked up at Ray.
"I appear to be naked, Ray," he said conversationally and Ray growled deep in his throat. Fraser smiled charmingly in response.
"You are going to be the deadest dead Mountie to ever die if you don't help me get your ass in the bathtub right now," Ray said, trying to sound threatening. It generally didn't work on Fraser because Fraser always knew that Ray didn't mean it when he threatened to kill him. Ray was banking on the fact that Fraser was mildly delusional to help him out with the threats this time.
"Yes, sir," Fraser said, then saluted, which looked completely ridiculous considering Fraser was naked and lying flat on his back on the hotel room floor. Then he giggled and asked, "Just my ass?"
Ray glared at him.
Fraser sighed, then struggled to sit up, blinking at the floor for a few seconds before he looked up at Ray. "Do you think you could possibly give me a hand, Ray?"
Ray sighed as well, then held out his hand to Fraser and dragged him to his feet. "Yeah, sure. But I swear to god, you yak on me and I am goin' home and leaving your sorry Canadian ass in the bath filled with cold water until you shrivel up and die of pruning." Fraser giggled as Ray led him toward the bathroom and Ray growled in the back of his throat again. "If you keep giggling like that I'm gonna tape your mouth shut."
"I am not giggling," Fraser said, sounding scandalized. "Giggling is an activity that Turnbull is much more inclined to participate in. I, on the other hand, am not inclined in such ways."
"Yeah, well, I didn't think you were inclined to give blowjobs to Chicago cops with experimental hair, either," Ray said, then shouldered his way into the bathroom. "But I turned out to be wrong, didn't I?"
Fraser opened his mouth to reply, then flushed bright red and nodded.
"Okay, buddy," Ray said, helping Fraser lean against the wall, then reaching down to twist the taps. "Get into the tub. Cool water will make you feel better."
Fraser nodded and said, "Indeed," then stepped into the bathtub unsteadily, holding onto the wall for support. The cool water rushed into the tub as he lowered himself into a sitting position and Ray crumpled into a vaguely cross legged position on the floor beside the tub, testing the water every so often with his hand. Ray reached toward the counter for a wash cloth, dipping it into the water and bringing it up to Fraser's forehead, wiping it over his skin. Droplets of water slid down Fraser's nose and chin, down his cheeks and dripped into his chest, tracing patterns Ray followed with his eyes. The water in the tub reached Fraser's chest, so Ray reached for the taps once more and turned them off, then soaked the cloth in the water. He had a feeling it was going to be a long day.
--
Even after Ray noticed that Fraser's skin was beginning to prune he continued to drag the cloth back and forth over Fraser's chest slowly. Fraser's eyes had closed almost immediately after Ray had begun to move the cloth over his skin and Ray enjoyed the opportunity he had been given to just look at Fraser, his eyes following the cloth everywhere it went as Ray wet Fraser's skin. Every drop of water that trickled down Fraser's throat and over his chest, Ray watched until it slid under the water, then he started again with a fresh drop of water.
"How you feeling?" Ray asked eventually, resisting the very strong urge to lean in and lick the drop of water that was quivering on the end of Fraser's chin.
"Better," Fraser said, opening his eyes. "Better, Ray. Thank you kindly."
"Gotta admit, I was worried there for a second." Ray raised the cloth to Fraser's shoulder and squeezed it, tiny rivers running over Fraser's collar bone and chest. "You were kinda... y'know, kooky."
The corner of Fraser's mouth quirked up and he looked at Ray sleepily. "As opposed to my usual rock solid mental state?"
"Yeah," Ray said, then gave in and leaned in to run his tongue over the water on Fraser's chin. "As opposed to that."
Fraser inhaled sharply, then lifted a hand out of the water to circle Ray's wrist, stilling the cloth on his chest. "You didn't have to do this for me, you know. I would have been fine."
Ray shrugged and moved in order to lick the water clinging to Fraser's ear. "Didn't want you to die."
"It's extremely unlikely I would have died, Ray."
"Mmm," Ray replied, sucking Fraser's earlobe into his mouth, then bit it gently before releasing it. "Wanted to be sure."
"Yes," Fraser said, his voice rough. "Well. Thank you kindly. Once again."
"Thank you kindly, Fraser," Ray replied, continuing to lick each and every droplet of water that he could find on the skin of Fraser's throat.
"What for?" Fraser asked, his other hand coming out of the water to cup the back of Ray's head. Ray could feel water running down his scalp and trickling behind his ear as he shifted and licked the corner of Fraser's mouth.
"For gettin' naked," he said, grinning, then kissed Fraser hard, dropping the cloth into the water and gripping Fraser's bicep. Fraser returned the kiss just as hard, proving to Ray that Fraser felt as good as he claimed. Ray twisted from his position on the floor and got up onto his knees, attempting to get Fraser to stand so they could work their way toward the large bed Ray had seen earlier, but Fraser seemed to have a different idea.
As Ray got unsteadily to his knees Fraser pulled him forward and used the momentum to twist Ray's body, and Ray would have smashed the back of his head against the wall if Fraser hadn't been able to control his fall. Instead, Ray ended up sitting in Fraser's lap in the bathtub, the cool water soaking through denim and cotton, blinking up at Fraser like he couldn't believe what had just happened.
"You..." he said, blinking again.
"Pulled you into the tub," Fraser said, then cupped the back of Ray's head and leaned down to kiss him again. Ray tried to say something in response, but Fraser's tongue was doing its best to make Ray forget he even had the capacity to speak as it flicked against Ray's lips impatiently. Uncomfortable as it was to be sitting in Fraser's lap, half-twisted against Fraser's chest, the water rapidly cooling Ray's thighs, hips and other important parts, he couldn't resist the way Fraser was kissing him.
Ray had never really been able to resist anyone who kissed with even half as much enthusiasm as Fraser, so resisting Fraser had pretty much been impossible from the getgo. Without breaking their contact, Ray twisted, dragged both legs into the tub and put one knee on either side of Fraser's body, completely soaking his jeans and socks.
Straddling Fraser's lap in a bathtub filled with cold water had never made it onto Ray's list of Sex Things To Do With Fraser (it was only a mental list because not even Ray was stupid enough to write down any list that had 'sex' and 'Fraser' in the title), but it was turning out to be more fun than Ray would have originally thought. For one, Fraser was wet, which was always fun in Ray's books. On top of being wet, Fraser's strength was rapidly returning and he was practically clawing at Ray's clothing, trying to pull off his t-shirt and undo his wet jeans at the same time, and knowing that Fraser was that desperate to touch his skin made Ray hornier and more sentimental than he ever thought possible. Ray decided that being naked took precedence over kissing, so he bit Fraser's bottom lip sharply before pulling away to get his t-shirt over his head, panting roughly the entire time. The shirt fell to the bathroom floor with a wet smacking noise, but Ray could barely hear anything over Fraser's quiet and needy groans.
"Fraser," he said, then ducked his head to lick water off Fraser's throat. "M'never gonna get outta my jeans in the tub. Gotta..." Ray groaned when Fraser gripped his hips and thrust up against him, his breathing ragged. "Gotta get up."
"Yes," Fraser agreed, then waited while Ray stood, water pouring off him. "Functional plan." As soon as Ray was standing Fraser stood as well and backed Ray up against the wall as he undid Ray's jeans, struggling to push them off his hips. The wet denim clung to his skin and Fraser growled in frustration, then knelt in the water, yanking Ray's jeans as hard as he could.
A few tugs later they came down, taking Ray's underwear with them and Fraser made an appreciative noise, then leaned in to nuzzle Ray's hip. Ray's fingers scabbled for purchase on the wet tile behind him as Fraser's mouth travelled over Ray's hipbone and across his stomach, pausing every so often to lick Ray's skin. Ray tried to kick his jeans off the rest of the way, but he only succeeded in kicking Fraser's thigh, earning himself a particularly sharp nip against the skin just above his groin.
"This is not working, Ray," Fraser said, his lips still moving against Ray's body. "We need to get you out of your jeans."
"Yeah," Ray agreed, looking down and resisting to urge to guide Fraser's mouth to his cock. "Yeah, okay."
Somehow, between both of them, Fraser managed to stand and hold tightly to Ray's biceps while Ray kicked off his socks, jeans and briefs as Fraser pressed him into the wall of the shower and kissed him. Before Ray even realized how they'd managed it, Ray was naked and Fraser was roughly pushing him toward the bathroom door and toward the bed. Ray's socks, jeans and briefs were under a foot of water and neither of them had thought to pull the plug, which Ray figured he'd regret in about an hour because he had only brought one pair of jeans (and four pairs of sweats and a pair of ski pants).
For now, though, Ray was perfectly content to let Fraser push him toward the bed and shove him down on top of the coverlet, climbing onto the bed himself to straddle Ray's hips. For a second Fraser remained there, his thighs on either side of Ray's body and his hands on Ray's shoulders, and he stared at Ray. He stared at all of Ray that he could see. He stared at Ray's cock, hard against Fraser's leg, he stared at Ray's stomach, his ribs, the light blonde hair on Ray's arms and the way the muscles in Ray's shoulders flexed and moved under Fraser's hands. He stared at Ray's chin and mouth, his nose, his hair, his eyes. He stared at Ray so hard that Ray began to wiggle under Fraser and a flush crept up the back of his neck until Fraser finally grinned and leaned down to kiss Ray sweetly.
Given the chance, Ray would have asked what that was for, but Fraser didn't give him the chance. The sweet kiss morphed into a wet, hot kiss as Fraser's tongue swept into Ray's mouth when he opened it to speak and all that came out of Ray was a low moan. The comforter felt wet under Ray's back and he was suddenly aware of both their bodies still dripping water, dripping onto the bed, but Fraser was taking care to mirror Ray's actions from earlier and his tongue slid around Ray's ear, behind his ear, along the line of his jaw, licking droplets of water as he went. Ray gave another groan when Fraser paused at his collar bone, studying it, then lapped at the water gathered in the hollow of his throat.
He'd always known Fraser liked to lick things. It was kind of impossible not to notice Fraser's affinity for sticking his tongue into things when one of those things was an electrical socket, but Ray had never really known how much Fraser liked to lick things until he and Fraser had been naked together that first time. Ray figured he should have known, but he hadn't and when Fraser's tongue had begun to explore Ray's body it had been like a thousand displays of fireworks going off behind his eyes (clichéd as that was, Ray kind of liked how it sounded) and it never got old.
"God, Fraser," Ray managed to say, just as Fraser's mouth left his body and he lowered himself down on top of Ray. If this is what came with Florida Ray had completely changed his mind. He liked Florida. Hell, he loved Florida and he loved Fraser with heat stroke even more than he loved Florida. Fraser with heat stroke turned into Fraser with a one track mind and Ray was all over one track minded Fraser.
Rather, one track minded Fraser was all over him, his hips surging against Ray's and his mouth latching on to that spot just below Ray's jaw that pretty much guaranteed Ray was going to come all over Fraser in about three minutes if he kept it up. Ray jerked his head to the side, trying to pull his neck out of reach, but Fraser merely groaned and followed Ray with his mouth, biting and licking all of Ray's throat that he could reach. Ray sunk both his hands into Fraser's hair and curled his fingers, trying to make it clear to Fraser that this whole thing would be over if he kept doing that thing he was doing, but Fraser was either playing stupid again or he was just being a stubborn jackass. Ray could never really tell the difference, but at a time like this it hardly mattered. His hands loosened in Fraser's hair, then ran down Fraser's back, fingers kneading his skin. When Fraser nipped his throat sharply, Ray made a muffled noise of surprise and dropped both hands off Fraser's body. With another groan, Fraser yanked both of Ray's hands above his head and pinned his wrists to the mattress, grinding against Ray's hips roughly.
Fraser had never done this before, Fraser had never pinned Ray down, although Ray knew he could. He knew Fraser was stronger and usually just knowing it was enough, but Fraser's hands tightening on his wrists sent bolts of pleasure down Ray's arms and straight to his groin. Fraser was always possessive, but this was possessive on a whole new level and Ray was moaning incoherently, loving every second, fighting Fraser just enough to make it seem like he didn't love being the submissive one in this situation.
With a strangled half-sob, Ray strained upward, pushing against the hands holding him down and Fraser's hips, trying to rub his cock against Fraser's skin just to feel the heat of Fraser's body and the friction between them. Fraser was panting roughly against Ray's throat, the rhythm of his hips erractic as Ray struggled to match it, then just gave up and gave in to Fraser thrusting on top of him. There was no ceremony, no kissing, no stroking each other and smiling and doing the stupid romantic things that Ray loved more than he was willing to admit, there was just Fraser's body and his body and Fraser's breath was cool on Ray's wet skin.
Then Fraser found that spot again, that place on Ray's throat and Fraser's teeth nipped sharply before he began to suck on Ray's skin, his moans vibrating across Ray's throat and Ray would swear he could feel those moans all the way up into his brain. He was trying to speak, his hips still moving with Fraser's, his cock sliding against Fraser's, sliding against Fraser's wet hip, but he couldn't. He was trying to tell Fraser to let go of his skin, to knock it off unless he wanted this whole thing to end within seconds, but all Ray could do was moan breathlessly and tighten both hands into fists as he came. He felt like he came forever, Fraser's mouth on his throat wringing everything out of him including a long, low groan that ended just as Fraser's began.
Just as Ray decided there was no way he would ever be able to get hard again because he was just that done, he felt Fraser's hips drive down on his own one final time and then he felt Fraser coming against the skin of his stomach and Ray couldn't believe that even after that, even after feeling so completely done, the feel of Fraser coming could make every part of him feel turned on again. As Fraser's grip on his wrists loosened, Ray wondered how long it would be before he could really get turned on again so they could spend the rest of the vacation doing exactly what they'd just been doing.
Fraser sprawled heavily on top of Ray, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. A moment later he laughed quietly and murmured, "I think I have heat stroke again," against Ray's throat.
Ray grinned and ran his fingers through Fraser's damp hair. "I think I caught your heat stroke."
"It's not contagious, Ray."
"Is too, you big freak," Ray said, then took Fraser's hand in his own.
There was silence for a long time, then Fraser moved off Ray and looked at him seriously. "Did you really think I was going to take you to Canada for a vacation?"
Ray raised his eyebrows and squeezed Fraser's hand. "You really want me to answer that?"
Fraser nodded, his eyes wide and serious, so Ray sighed.
"Yeah, I thought you were gonna take me to Canada for a vacation. You're a weird Canadian freak, remember? You do stuff like that." Fraser continued to study him so seriously that Ray laughed and shifted on the bed so he could kiss Fraser. "I also meant it when I said I wanna be anywhere you are, okay?" he asked, then covered Fraser's mouth with his own.
"Even when I vomit in a trash can?" Fraser asked when they broke apart, looking embarrassed.
"Yeah," Ray said, then shrugged. "Even when you vomit in a trash can. Maybe especially when you vomit in a trash can." Off Fraser's raised eyebrows, Ray grinned and shrugged again. "I'd do pretty much anything for you."
The room was quiet for a long time, Ray's body rapidly cooling as the air conditioner whirred to life and the water dried on his skin. He closed his eyes just as Fraser's hand rested heavily on his chest and a moment later Fraser's mouth was pressed to his ear as he murmured, "And I you, Ray."