Fic: Godliness, Fraser/Ray K NC17
Title: Godliness
Author: Hyperfocused
Pairing: Fraser/Ray K
Rating: NC17
Wordcount: 930
A/N: from LadyIvy's Spring Cleaning prompt. Not as porny as I intended but god, deadline!
Ray hated Spring. Hated the cheerful yellow flowers that spewed pollen -- and there was nothing cool about sniffling through a season --, and even more the April showers that seemed to last just until the June heat arrived that would have welcomed the cooling rain as relief.
He hadn't always felt that way. He'd proposed to Stella (for the first time) in Spring. She didn't say yes until he asked her again that 4th of July (and actually he never did hear her answer, the fireworks were so loud), but they married the next May, so Spring was still good.
They had their last real fight in Spring. A beautiful early May, just a few days til their anniversary. Ray would have had to look at the calendar to tell, it felt so much like winter.
After that, it was all paperwork, and packing bags. The evidence it was over in smeared blue-black ink, and paper-cuts on his hand. Ray looked around at the new Spring growth, puppies and babies out in the sunshine, and thanked God they'd had no children to give a broken home. He cursed God, too.
A few Aprils later, and he and Stella were civil to each other, at least, and could almost call each other friends. Not the kind of friends that he and Fraser were, even if he and Fraser were "intimate now", as Fraser liked to put it, or "fucking", as Ray would say. It meant just as much to each of them no matter what they called it.
But still, happy as he was with the way things were going between them, Spring depressed the hell out of Ray, and he told Fraser so.
"Don't mind me if I act like I'm gonna bite your head off. It's Spring. Does something to me. Makes me crazy."
"That's not as unusual as you might think. Though the popular belief is that more crimes occur under the full moon, in all actuality it's the Spring thaw that does it, statistically.
'"Perhaps the best course of action to take you out of the doldrums would be to spend tomorrow doing some Spring cleaning."
"You saying I'm a slob?"
"Why no, Ray. You keep a fine place. I feel at home there."
"You are home there, even if your name isn't on the lease. It could be, you know."
Fraser didn't address the whole moving in issue. He never did, although he certainly stayed enough that it ought to have been official. "I'd be happy to come and help you get things in order.It's always a good idea to spend some time clearing one's home of unneeded detritus, But really, I meant it more metaphorically. I could help you wipe the slate clean, as it were. Erase the bad memories and create good new ones in their places."
"Think that will help my mood?"
"I'll do my best to make sure of it."
"I know you will, Frase. Thanks."
Fraser had consulate duties, thanks to the Ice Queen, who was being her usual unreasonable demonic self. So he and Ray made plans for Fraser to stop by the next day. "Bring food."
"Of course, Ray. Anything in particular?"
"Surprise me. Only nothing that looks or tastes like shoe leather. Or roadkill."
"I can work with those parameters. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Ray."
"'Night."
When Fraser arrived at about 10:00 the next morning, with a brown paper bag of deli sandwiches in one hand, and cleaning supplies in the other, Ray took one look at him, and knew there wouldn't be much scrubbing going on that day.
He didn't mind.
"What the hell are you wearing?" Ray looked him over again, and yes, that really was Fraser, in a ribbed black T-Shirt that fit like paint on the Goat, and blue jeans that were near pornographic, they were shredded so high up on his thigh.
"Nothing special, Ray. Clothes in which I can get dirty. Is that a problem?" Fraser smiled at him, slowly, and Ray knew for sure he was flirting. He wasn't very good at it, but Ray loved the effort anyway.
"Not a problem at all." Ray walked up to Fraser, right into what that Sexual Harassment lecturer they'd had a few weeks ago (not that they'd needed it, there were a good bunch of guys at the precinct, and they'd kick anyone's ass who messed with Frannie or any other woman) would have said was his personal space. She didn't know Fraser, though. His space was a mile wide, inside. He could take himself away to the snowy North whenever he wanted, but he was always right there with Ray. Always breathing buddies and more. Ray kissed Fraser, sweet and slow and dirty until Fraser pulled away, gasping "What about the food, Ray?"
"I'm hungry, yeah." He leaned in again and kissed Fraser, then took the lunch bag, dropping it on the counter. Fraser put the other bag down as well. "You got sandwiches. They'll be just as good in an hour or two. I'm good to go now." He knelt in front of Fraser, and opened his jeans. "So are you, it looks like."
"Yes, Ray"
"Spring sucks, you know." Ray told him, again. He pushed Fraser against the counter for leverage, because when he was done with him, Fraser's legs would be jelly, he hoped.
"Making bad memories into good ones, I see." Fraser got it. And then even he lost his coherence, because yeah, Ray knew what he was doing.
Ray loved Spring.
I tag Moosesal with "Taste of Chicago"
Author: Hyperfocused
Pairing: Fraser/Ray K
Rating: NC17
Wordcount: 930
A/N: from LadyIvy's Spring Cleaning prompt. Not as porny as I intended but god, deadline!
Ray hated Spring. Hated the cheerful yellow flowers that spewed pollen -- and there was nothing cool about sniffling through a season --, and even more the April showers that seemed to last just until the June heat arrived that would have welcomed the cooling rain as relief.
He hadn't always felt that way. He'd proposed to Stella (for the first time) in Spring. She didn't say yes until he asked her again that 4th of July (and actually he never did hear her answer, the fireworks were so loud), but they married the next May, so Spring was still good.
They had their last real fight in Spring. A beautiful early May, just a few days til their anniversary. Ray would have had to look at the calendar to tell, it felt so much like winter.
After that, it was all paperwork, and packing bags. The evidence it was over in smeared blue-black ink, and paper-cuts on his hand. Ray looked around at the new Spring growth, puppies and babies out in the sunshine, and thanked God they'd had no children to give a broken home. He cursed God, too.
A few Aprils later, and he and Stella were civil to each other, at least, and could almost call each other friends. Not the kind of friends that he and Fraser were, even if he and Fraser were "intimate now", as Fraser liked to put it, or "fucking", as Ray would say. It meant just as much to each of them no matter what they called it.
But still, happy as he was with the way things were going between them, Spring depressed the hell out of Ray, and he told Fraser so.
"Don't mind me if I act like I'm gonna bite your head off. It's Spring. Does something to me. Makes me crazy."
"That's not as unusual as you might think. Though the popular belief is that more crimes occur under the full moon, in all actuality it's the Spring thaw that does it, statistically.
'"Perhaps the best course of action to take you out of the doldrums would be to spend tomorrow doing some Spring cleaning."
"You saying I'm a slob?"
"Why no, Ray. You keep a fine place. I feel at home there."
"You are home there, even if your name isn't on the lease. It could be, you know."
Fraser didn't address the whole moving in issue. He never did, although he certainly stayed enough that it ought to have been official. "I'd be happy to come and help you get things in order.It's always a good idea to spend some time clearing one's home of unneeded detritus, But really, I meant it more metaphorically. I could help you wipe the slate clean, as it were. Erase the bad memories and create good new ones in their places."
"Think that will help my mood?"
"I'll do my best to make sure of it."
"I know you will, Frase. Thanks."
Fraser had consulate duties, thanks to the Ice Queen, who was being her usual unreasonable demonic self. So he and Ray made plans for Fraser to stop by the next day. "Bring food."
"Of course, Ray. Anything in particular?"
"Surprise me. Only nothing that looks or tastes like shoe leather. Or roadkill."
"I can work with those parameters. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Ray."
"'Night."
When Fraser arrived at about 10:00 the next morning, with a brown paper bag of deli sandwiches in one hand, and cleaning supplies in the other, Ray took one look at him, and knew there wouldn't be much scrubbing going on that day.
He didn't mind.
"What the hell are you wearing?" Ray looked him over again, and yes, that really was Fraser, in a ribbed black T-Shirt that fit like paint on the Goat, and blue jeans that were near pornographic, they were shredded so high up on his thigh.
"Nothing special, Ray. Clothes in which I can get dirty. Is that a problem?" Fraser smiled at him, slowly, and Ray knew for sure he was flirting. He wasn't very good at it, but Ray loved the effort anyway.
"Not a problem at all." Ray walked up to Fraser, right into what that Sexual Harassment lecturer they'd had a few weeks ago (not that they'd needed it, there were a good bunch of guys at the precinct, and they'd kick anyone's ass who messed with Frannie or any other woman) would have said was his personal space. She didn't know Fraser, though. His space was a mile wide, inside. He could take himself away to the snowy North whenever he wanted, but he was always right there with Ray. Always breathing buddies and more. Ray kissed Fraser, sweet and slow and dirty until Fraser pulled away, gasping "What about the food, Ray?"
"I'm hungry, yeah." He leaned in again and kissed Fraser, then took the lunch bag, dropping it on the counter. Fraser put the other bag down as well. "You got sandwiches. They'll be just as good in an hour or two. I'm good to go now." He knelt in front of Fraser, and opened his jeans. "So are you, it looks like."
"Yes, Ray"
"Spring sucks, you know." Ray told him, again. He pushed Fraser against the counter for leverage, because when he was done with him, Fraser's legs would be jelly, he hoped.
"Making bad memories into good ones, I see." Fraser got it. And then even he lost his coherence, because yeah, Ray knew what he was doing.
Ray loved Spring.
I tag Moosesal with "Taste of Chicago"