Disclaimer: Due South and its characters belong to Alliance Atlantis and a bunch of other people who are not me. This is just for fun, not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: Many thanks to the marvelous Isis for her outstandingly helpful beta.

The first time it happened, it was kind of an accident. Except not really, because it started while they were both asleep - at least Ray assumed that Fraser had been asleep, too - but then they both woke up with their dicks hard and humping against each other inside the zipped-together sleeping bags, and instead of stopping there were hands on cocks, and then there was breathing hard and grunting into each other's necks and coming, and really, by that time you couldn't call it an accident any more.

"Uh, Fraser," Ray said after a while. But Fraser put his hand over Ray's mouth, and slowly ran his fingers over Ray's lips. The last thing Ray felt before he fell asleep was Fraser's thumb softly stroking his neck.

The first time Ray said "Fraser, about last night--" Fraser said, "Wouldn't you like another cup of coffee, Ray?" and "I'll go pack the sled while you finish up," and then he was gone. The second time he tried to bring it up, Fraser suddenly had to point out a supposedly interesting pile of turds: "Snowshoe hare scat, Ray; it's important for you to learn to read the signs." By the third time Fraser changed the subject, with hard eyes and a remark on the weather delivered in a voice sharp enough to cut glass, Ray got the message.

It was almost a week before it happened again. This time Ray wasn't asleep. This time he knew for sure Fraser started it, pulling Ray's ass back against his dick, already hard in his long johns, reaching around to slide his hand under Ray's waistband and cup his balls, his hand so big and warm and sure. It was Fraser, too, who tugged Ray's long johns down so he could stick his hard cock between Ray's thighs and make like he was fucking him, the head of his cock bumping up against Ray's balls, which were already bouncing because Fraser had his hand wrapped around Ray's cock and was pumping him hard and fast and making Ray wonder if he was going crazy because it was all he could do not to tell Fraser to put it in him and fuck him for real, and it turned out that just thinking about that was enough to make him come, and wasn't that a first for Ray, who was still trying to get his head around the fact that he was skin to skin with somebody else's dick for only the second time in his life, and shouldn't that be enough for a guy to deal with without getting into the whole ass-fucking thing?

Afterwards, Ray tried to roll over so he could wrap his arms around Fraser, but Fraser wouldn't let him move, just held him tight, Ray's back to Fraser's chest, softly rubbing Ray's belly until he fell asleep.

Ray only tried to bring it up once the next day. He got a thirty-minute lecture about the composition, care, and repair of sled runners. He didn't try again.

Three nights later, he woke up with his long johns already down around his knees, and this time it was his cock humping Fraser's naked ass, and Fraser grabbing his hand and wrapping it around Fraser's dick. Ray discovered that he really liked playing with Fraser's dick, liked it even more than humping Fraser's butt. Ray discovered that there were things he could do with his hand and Fraser's dick that would make Fraser arch his back and moan like Ray was hurting him, like Ray was killing him, and that once he got Fraser hungry and desperate for it, if he slowed way down until he was just barely stroking, feather-light, he could make Fraser damn near whimper. But he couldn't make him beg.

Not that he didn't try.

"Fraser," Ray said the next morning, and he didn't say anything else until Fraser turned and looked him in the eye, challenge written all over his face. "We probably oughta hunt today, huh? We're getting low on meat for the dogs."

Fraser's face went soft and his eyes went warm and his smile went straight to Ray's belly and lit a fire there. "Why, yes, Ray, I think that's an excellent idea." And still it was another moment before he turned away and pulled their rifles off the sled.

It was only two nights later that they were both bare from knees to nipples, shirts rucked up and pants pulled down, Ray's hands gripping Fraser's ass and Fraser's arms shaking as he held himself above Ray and they ground and slid their cocks together until they came all over each other's bellies.

The night was bright, the light of the full moon reflecting off the snow and shining through the thin fabric of the tent, so Ray could clearly see that the whole time Fraser never opened his eyes, not once.

The next day Ray didn't talk at all, except for what little they needed to say to each other about breaking camp and making their miles for the day, and really, by this time, they had the routine down so they didn't need to talk much at all. Ray felt Fraser's eyes on him a lot, but Fraser didn't say anything, either.

That night, Ray tried to kiss Fraser, but Fraser turned his face away and reached for Ray's cock instead. Ray gently shoved Fraser's hand away, said goodnight and kissed him on the cheek, and then rolled over, hoping uncharitably that Fraser would lie awake for a long time. Ray didn't, though; he drifted right off.

The next morning as they were getting ready to leave the tent, Ray stepped in front of Fraser and blocked the exit. Grabbing Fraser by the jaw, he made him look him in the eye, and when Fraser tried to look away, Ray gave his jaw a shake until Fraser met his eyes again. Then he leaned in and kissed Fraser hard on the mouth.

When he let him go, Fraser stood wide-eyed and frozen, except for his tongue that slipped out to slide across his lips.

Ray turned his back on Fraser and reached for his parka. He heard the tent flap zipper behind him, and a rush of cold air hit the back of his neck. When he turned around again, Fraser was gone.

Neither of them talked very much that day, but Fraser touched Ray a lot, and every time Ray looked at Fraser, Fraser was looking at him.

That night when they crawled into bed, Ray shoved Fraser onto his side and curled up against his back, arm wrapped around his waist. "Pretty soon," he whispered into the back of Fraser's neck, "you and me are gonna talk. And then we're gonna fuck."

Fraser went still in Ray's arms. Then he drew in a ragged breath, and let it out slowly. Just before Ray fell asleep, he felt Fraser's hand cover his own and pull it up against his chest. He drifted off to the rhythm of Fraser's heartbeat under his hand.

The next morning Ray woke up to a blizzard, howling winds and snow packed high against the tent walls.

He rolled over and looked at Fraser, scraggly-bearded and sleep-rumpled and still sound asleep. "Hey, Fraser," he said softly, and reached up to stroke Fraser's face.

Fraser rolled toward Ray and into his arms, pulling him close and burying his face in Ray's neck and finding his skin with his lips, and for a minute, maybe two, it was glory. But then Fraser really woke up - Ray could feel just when it happened - and he pulled away and sat up, blushing just a little.

"I -" he said, and stopped, looking anywhere but at Ray.

"Yeah, you," Ray said. Dief would have recognized his grin.

Fraser cleared his throat. "We seem to be in the midst of a blizzard," he said. "Why don't you stay here and keep warm, and I'll..." He gestured vaguely.

Ray nodded.

Fraser crawled out of the sleeping bag and got dressed, then dug his way out to care for the dogs.

Ray stretched out an arm and tugged his pack closer; he rummaged through it, pulled out a small jar of Vaseline, and tucked it down inside his sleeping bag.

Fraser returned a little while later with water and provisions and a mug of coffee for Ray. "Well, Ray," he said heartily, stripping off his outer gear. "It looks like we're not going anywhere today. I suppose we'll have to find a way to entertain ourselves."

Ray stuck one hand out of the sleeping bag and held up the jar of Vaseline. "Is that so?" he said, and the smile that slowly bloomed on his face was wicked. "Good. That'll give us plenty of time..." - he lobbed the Vaseline across the tent, forcing Fraser to field it before it smacked him in the chest - "...to talk."

Fraser stood there with his snow pants halfway down his legs, his cock already swelling hard and panic in his eyes. "Oh," he said. "Oh, dear."

~ fin ~