due South: Solidity
Title: Solidity
Fandom: due South
Characters/Pairings: RayK/Fraser
Summary: That winter was bitter.
Author's Notes: Written for lamardeuse for the 2005 ds_seekritsanta challenge. First posted here. Remixed beautifully by sathinks in remix_redux: Frozen Solid (The Heart Beats in Its Cage Remix).
That winter was bitter. Fraser wasn’t sure what made it worse than the three before, even worse than the first winter he’d spent in Chicago, when he had been so desperately homesick. He should have thought about it, mediated on it, but he didn’t have the energy to care. Fraser knew better than this - his entire life has been spent in pursuit of truths, outer and inner - but he let it go anyway.
He still stood in front of the Consulate, ran errands for Inspector Thatcher, put up with Turnbull. He still went into the station whenever he could think of an excuse, where he still worked any case the Chicago PD offered, ranging from the almost mundane to the truly bizarre. If he avoided Ray Kowalski’s worried eyes, if he was a bit abrupt with suspects, if he sometimes purposely misinterpreted the Inspector’s requests - well, that was his guilt and no one else but him could own it.
His days dissolved in the Chicago slush. The nights were short. He didn’t sleep well and walked, late at night or early in the morning, along the wet streets. Sometimes, Dief came with him. More often, he walked alone. He gave up arguing with his father’s ghost, spending as little time in closets as possible.
And as January ended, Fraser faded.
***
Not surprisingly, Ray was the one to call him on it. “Okay,” he said, slamming his hands down on the desk, “enough is enough, Frase.”
Fraser didn’t jump. “Enough what?”
“Enough of this!” Ray glared at him. “I don’t know what’s up with you, but I’m gonna to find out.”
“What if I refuse to talk?” Fraser crossed his arms and stared back at him.
Ray’s eyes narrowed. “Then I’ll kick you in the head.” Fraser arched an eyebrow at that, and Ray looked away for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was low. “I thought we were buddies, Fraser. Buddies talk to each other, all right? They don‘t suffer stoically or whatever the hell you‘re doing.” He pushed himself up from the chair in one savage motion and stalked over to where Fraser was sitting.
Gazing up at his face, Fraser realized that Ray was shaking. Now it was his turn to turn away, defeated. What good had obstinacy ever done him? “There’s nothing to say. I just -” But he had no words to describe this, not to himself, not to Ray.
Ray scowled at him, but his voice was kind. “Okay. Okay. We’ll go back to my apartment and watch a game or something. Maybe you just need a break.”
It was true that he hasn’t been doing much other than working, either here or at the Consulate. He was almost certain that Ray wouldn’t call his late-night walks a “ break”. He held Ray’s gaze for a long moment and then nodded. “All right. Just let me get Diefenbaker.”
***
Ray’s apartment was warm, and Fraser realised he had been cold for weeks. Not the clean cold that came from living in northern Canada, but the particular Chicago cold, that was both bitter and not cold enough.
Without hesitation, Dief walked right over to his favourite spot in Ray’s kitchen and curled up on the floor like a cat settling in front of a fireplace. Any other time, Fraser would have told him that, but he was too busy watching Ray. He was flitting around the apartment, turning the TV on, motioning Fraser to sit down on the couch, getting something from the fridge. He moved with the grace of a dancer, and Fraser remembered how surprised he had been to see signs of that hidden passion the first time he had been in Ray’s apartment.
Ray reappeared in the living room, holding two beers. Fraser opened his mouth to speak, but Ray beat him to it, transferring one bottle to the other hand to shake a finger at him. “Not a chance, Frase. One beer won’t kill you.”
“If you say so.” But Fraser reached out and took one of the bottles anyway. It was already opened, so Fraser tipped it forward towards his moth and took a sip. The contradictory bubbly smoothness was just as he remembered it. He so rarely indulged that it felt like the purest decadence. Looking up, he saw Ray watching him with a strange expression on his face.
“See? Good for what ails ya.”
He had to smile. “Indeed, Ray. Thank you.”
Ray grinned back, sliding next to him on the couch, their knees almost touching. Leaning forward to grab the remote, he flipped through channels until he got to one that was showing sports. “Hey, hockey!” They watched the game in companionable silence, only interrupted by Ray’s inspired ranting at the players.
When the game ended, Ray turned to face him. “You miss him, don’t you?” He asked.
Fraser felt his mouth go dry. How much time must pass before I cease to be shocked by Ray’s perception?
“The other Ray,” his partner clarified in the wake of Fraser‘s silence. “The real one.” His face was just inches away from Fraser’s, open and strangely vulnerable.
“I do,” Fraser whispered. He felt lightheaded; maybe it was the beer. Or maybe it was the odd mood he had been in for the past month. Perhaps it was simply Ray. Whatever the reason, Fraser found himself unable to let it rest at that. “But I don’t miss him enough.” Fraser could see Ray’s eyes widen and his lips part slightly in surprise. There was stubble on his cheeks. A scratch on his forehead. He was close -too close.
Fraser didn’t think, couldn’t even if he had wanted to. Instead, he shut his eyes and closed the gap between him and Ray. He poured all his desire, all his need and fear and, yes, love for Ray into that kiss, keenly aware that he most probably wouldn’t get second chance at it.
But Ray’s mouth opened under his, letting him in, letting him have everything. Daringly, he cupped a hand around Ray’s neck, keeping him close. Ray moaned into his mouth, one hand clutching at his knee. When they finally came up for air, Ray was smiling. “I never thought that we were on the same page with this. Not once,” he said, looking a bit rueful.
His hand now resting on Ray’s shoulder, Fraser squeezed it. “The same line, even,” he said, surprised at how calm he felt, as if kissing Ray had centred him, made him almost, well, whole.
Ray’s lips quirked up even more at that. “Do something for me?”
“Anything, Ray,” he promised.
“Stand up and take off your uniform jacket.”
“Just the jacket?” he asked teasingly.
“For now.” Ray’s voice was husky, making Fraser shiver. He scrambled to obey. Ray’s eyes traveled down his body, intent. Then he slid off the couch himself and stood up, pushing Fraser against the living room wall. Tentatively, Ray’s fingers danced down Fraser’s chest, then on to his stomach and at last to his dick. Fraser gasped at that touch. Already hard, that simple caress almost brought him to the edge. Ray looked at him through lowered eyelashes. “Trust me?”
“Always.” Fraser managed. “But we should -” Talk? Procure condoms? Fraser didn’t know what he wanted to say.
Ray seemed to read his mind. “We can talk later,” he said, adding “I’m clean, and you would have said something before now if you weren’t.” Fingers deftly moving, he undid Fraser’s pants. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” His eyes were dark, a mix between pleading and playful. “Fantasized about it.” Those words invoked a host of images in Fraser’s mind - Ray stroking himself in bed, thinking about Fraser - and he nodded quickly, jerking his head forward, unable to speak.
Ray grinned in anticipation and managed to tug both his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. Fraser let out an involuntary moan at the sudden friction. Then Ray dropped to his knees and took Fraser’s dick in his mouth.
He actually shuddered at that, grabbing onto Ray’s hair to keep his balance. Glorious warmth spread through him and he seemed to feel everything at once - Ray’s tongue, sweeping up and down the length of his cock, Ray’s hair, spiky and soft and his own breathes, coming in low and fast. And then he was almost there and he choked out, “I’m, Ray, I’m -”, but came before he could finish. It didn’t seem to matter. Ray swallowed it all, only lifting his mouth when it was over. Fraser pulled him up, needing to hold him. Ray felt solid in his arms, so very real. Fraser kissed his thanks, tasting his own come in Ray’s mouth.
“Feeling better?” Ray asked, breaking the kiss.
And Fraser realised then that he himself felt more solid, more real. That his funk had lifted, at least for now. “Yes, oh, yes,” he replied, and kissed Ray once more.
Fandom: due South
Characters/Pairings: RayK/Fraser
Summary: That winter was bitter.
Author's Notes: Written for lamardeuse for the 2005 ds_seekritsanta challenge. First posted here. Remixed beautifully by sathinks in remix_redux: Frozen Solid (The Heart Beats in Its Cage Remix).
That winter was bitter. Fraser wasn’t sure what made it worse than the three before, even worse than the first winter he’d spent in Chicago, when he had been so desperately homesick. He should have thought about it, mediated on it, but he didn’t have the energy to care. Fraser knew better than this - his entire life has been spent in pursuit of truths, outer and inner - but he let it go anyway.
He still stood in front of the Consulate, ran errands for Inspector Thatcher, put up with Turnbull. He still went into the station whenever he could think of an excuse, where he still worked any case the Chicago PD offered, ranging from the almost mundane to the truly bizarre. If he avoided Ray Kowalski’s worried eyes, if he was a bit abrupt with suspects, if he sometimes purposely misinterpreted the Inspector’s requests - well, that was his guilt and no one else but him could own it.
His days dissolved in the Chicago slush. The nights were short. He didn’t sleep well and walked, late at night or early in the morning, along the wet streets. Sometimes, Dief came with him. More often, he walked alone. He gave up arguing with his father’s ghost, spending as little time in closets as possible.
And as January ended, Fraser faded.
***
Not surprisingly, Ray was the one to call him on it. “Okay,” he said, slamming his hands down on the desk, “enough is enough, Frase.”
Fraser didn’t jump. “Enough what?”
“Enough of this!” Ray glared at him. “I don’t know what’s up with you, but I’m gonna to find out.”
“What if I refuse to talk?” Fraser crossed his arms and stared back at him.
Ray’s eyes narrowed. “Then I’ll kick you in the head.” Fraser arched an eyebrow at that, and Ray looked away for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was low. “I thought we were buddies, Fraser. Buddies talk to each other, all right? They don‘t suffer stoically or whatever the hell you‘re doing.” He pushed himself up from the chair in one savage motion and stalked over to where Fraser was sitting.
Gazing up at his face, Fraser realized that Ray was shaking. Now it was his turn to turn away, defeated. What good had obstinacy ever done him? “There’s nothing to say. I just -” But he had no words to describe this, not to himself, not to Ray.
Ray scowled at him, but his voice was kind. “Okay. Okay. We’ll go back to my apartment and watch a game or something. Maybe you just need a break.”
It was true that he hasn’t been doing much other than working, either here or at the Consulate. He was almost certain that Ray wouldn’t call his late-night walks a “ break”. He held Ray’s gaze for a long moment and then nodded. “All right. Just let me get Diefenbaker.”
***
Ray’s apartment was warm, and Fraser realised he had been cold for weeks. Not the clean cold that came from living in northern Canada, but the particular Chicago cold, that was both bitter and not cold enough.
Without hesitation, Dief walked right over to his favourite spot in Ray’s kitchen and curled up on the floor like a cat settling in front of a fireplace. Any other time, Fraser would have told him that, but he was too busy watching Ray. He was flitting around the apartment, turning the TV on, motioning Fraser to sit down on the couch, getting something from the fridge. He moved with the grace of a dancer, and Fraser remembered how surprised he had been to see signs of that hidden passion the first time he had been in Ray’s apartment.
Ray reappeared in the living room, holding two beers. Fraser opened his mouth to speak, but Ray beat him to it, transferring one bottle to the other hand to shake a finger at him. “Not a chance, Frase. One beer won’t kill you.”
“If you say so.” But Fraser reached out and took one of the bottles anyway. It was already opened, so Fraser tipped it forward towards his moth and took a sip. The contradictory bubbly smoothness was just as he remembered it. He so rarely indulged that it felt like the purest decadence. Looking up, he saw Ray watching him with a strange expression on his face.
“See? Good for what ails ya.”
He had to smile. “Indeed, Ray. Thank you.”
Ray grinned back, sliding next to him on the couch, their knees almost touching. Leaning forward to grab the remote, he flipped through channels until he got to one that was showing sports. “Hey, hockey!” They watched the game in companionable silence, only interrupted by Ray’s inspired ranting at the players.
When the game ended, Ray turned to face him. “You miss him, don’t you?” He asked.
Fraser felt his mouth go dry. How much time must pass before I cease to be shocked by Ray’s perception?
“The other Ray,” his partner clarified in the wake of Fraser‘s silence. “The real one.” His face was just inches away from Fraser’s, open and strangely vulnerable.
“I do,” Fraser whispered. He felt lightheaded; maybe it was the beer. Or maybe it was the odd mood he had been in for the past month. Perhaps it was simply Ray. Whatever the reason, Fraser found himself unable to let it rest at that. “But I don’t miss him enough.” Fraser could see Ray’s eyes widen and his lips part slightly in surprise. There was stubble on his cheeks. A scratch on his forehead. He was close -too close.
Fraser didn’t think, couldn’t even if he had wanted to. Instead, he shut his eyes and closed the gap between him and Ray. He poured all his desire, all his need and fear and, yes, love for Ray into that kiss, keenly aware that he most probably wouldn’t get second chance at it.
But Ray’s mouth opened under his, letting him in, letting him have everything. Daringly, he cupped a hand around Ray’s neck, keeping him close. Ray moaned into his mouth, one hand clutching at his knee. When they finally came up for air, Ray was smiling. “I never thought that we were on the same page with this. Not once,” he said, looking a bit rueful.
His hand now resting on Ray’s shoulder, Fraser squeezed it. “The same line, even,” he said, surprised at how calm he felt, as if kissing Ray had centred him, made him almost, well, whole.
Ray’s lips quirked up even more at that. “Do something for me?”
“Anything, Ray,” he promised.
“Stand up and take off your uniform jacket.”
“Just the jacket?” he asked teasingly.
“For now.” Ray’s voice was husky, making Fraser shiver. He scrambled to obey. Ray’s eyes traveled down his body, intent. Then he slid off the couch himself and stood up, pushing Fraser against the living room wall. Tentatively, Ray’s fingers danced down Fraser’s chest, then on to his stomach and at last to his dick. Fraser gasped at that touch. Already hard, that simple caress almost brought him to the edge. Ray looked at him through lowered eyelashes. “Trust me?”
“Always.” Fraser managed. “But we should -” Talk? Procure condoms? Fraser didn’t know what he wanted to say.
Ray seemed to read his mind. “We can talk later,” he said, adding “I’m clean, and you would have said something before now if you weren’t.” Fingers deftly moving, he undid Fraser’s pants. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” His eyes were dark, a mix between pleading and playful. “Fantasized about it.” Those words invoked a host of images in Fraser’s mind - Ray stroking himself in bed, thinking about Fraser - and he nodded quickly, jerking his head forward, unable to speak.
Ray grinned in anticipation and managed to tug both his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. Fraser let out an involuntary moan at the sudden friction. Then Ray dropped to his knees and took Fraser’s dick in his mouth.
He actually shuddered at that, grabbing onto Ray’s hair to keep his balance. Glorious warmth spread through him and he seemed to feel everything at once - Ray’s tongue, sweeping up and down the length of his cock, Ray’s hair, spiky and soft and his own breathes, coming in low and fast. And then he was almost there and he choked out, “I’m, Ray, I’m -”, but came before he could finish. It didn’t seem to matter. Ray swallowed it all, only lifting his mouth when it was over. Fraser pulled him up, needing to hold him. Ray felt solid in his arms, so very real. Fraser kissed his thanks, tasting his own come in Ray’s mouth.
“Feeling better?” Ray asked, breaking the kiss.
And Fraser realised then that he himself felt more solid, more real. That his funk had lifted, at least for now. “Yes, oh, yes,” he replied, and kissed Ray once more.