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. The title is from the lyrics to "Answering Machine" by Common Rotation.

Author's Notes: Many thanks to Isis for the speedy beta.

Story Notes: The sequel to this story is "Other Ways of Speaking," an epistolary romance.

Waiting wasn't going to make it any less wrong. Neither was more beer, though he figured that couldn't hurt.

Naked and already half erect, Ray grabbed the cordless phone and another bottle of beer and sprawled on the couch. He sucked another mouthful from the beer bottle, then set it down on the coffee table and hit speed dial.

"Good evening, Fraser residence. Constable Benton Fraser speaking."

Ray felt the sound shiver down his spine and curl around his cock. "Hey, Frase. How's it going?"

"Very well, Ray, thank you kindly. And yourself?"

"I'm good." It was early, but Ray allowed himself a brief rub up and down his cock; it hardened further under his touch. "So what've you been up to?"

"Well, it hasn't been that long since we last spoke, Ray, so I don't have a great deal of news to report."

Ray took another pull on his beer, then rubbed his nipple with a thumb still cold and wet from the bottle. His cock twitched. "No drunk and disorderlies? No domestic disputes?"

"For once, no. It's been mercifully quiet. Well, except for Diefenbaker's recent misadventure. I suppose one could consider it a domestic dispute of a sort."

Ray wrapped a hand around his cock and squeezed. Oh, yeah. "Oh, yeah? What's the fur face been up to this time? Tomcatting around and getting into trouble?"

Fraser chuckled.

Jackpot. Ray's cock pulsed in his hand and he gave it a stroke. Fuck. So good.

"Tomcatting is hardly the word I'd use for a wolf, but in this case perhaps it's an apt choice."

Ray ran his fingers up and down the underside of his cock. "Yeah?" Just keep Fraser talking.

"Yes, well, Myrtle Olsen's Alaskan Husky bitch Annabelle, the dog that's the key to her breeding program, foundation stock for her racing line, came into season this week."

"Uh-huh." God, it was good, even better than the first time he did this. He gave himself two firm strokes, three, and wondered if he could come just from the sound of Fraser's voice, without even touching himself. Maybe he'd try it some time.

"Myrtle had planned to breed Annabelle to Shug McKendrick's stud dog, the one that sired two of the dogs in the team that came in third in last year's Iditarod."

"Shug? What kind of a name is Shug?" Harder strokes now, a little faster. Jesus. Just keep talking, Fraser.

"I have no idea, Ray. No one here knows him by any other appellation, and to date I have had no cause to inquire as to whether it's his given name."

Ray's cock twitched at "appellation" and he bit back a grunt. He was getting closer; he could feel it. Fraser. "Never mind that, Fraser. So what'd the wolf do?"

"Well, Diefenbaker claims that he believed himself a superior choice for the improvement of Myrtle's racing line..."

Faster. Harder. "Yeah?"

"...although I fear that his motives may have been somewhat less altruistic."

"Uh-huh." Christ. Close now. Say anything Fraser, just talk.

"It would seem that Diefenbaker managed to finagle his way into Annabelle's kennel..."

Fraser's voice was liquid sex pouring into his ear. Ray was burning, he was burning up. "Yeah?"

"...by bribing the kennelman with one hundred dollars and a bottle of single malt Scotch..."

Ray felt his balls tighten and everything grew hazy. He pumped himself hard. "Yeah?"

"...and bred Annabelle, after which he made his escape through the kennel roof with the help of a pair of bolt-cutters and a Swiss army knife."

Oh, Jesus, he was going to come, he was going to come...

"Ray. Ray. Ray!"

Ray froze. His gut went cold, but his cock was still on fire. "What?"

"What exactly are you doing right now, Ray?"

Fuck. Ray's orgasm was hovering just out of reach and it wasn't fair that even now, with the world about to end and Fraser's voice gone all cool and careful, the sound of that voice still brought him that much closer with every single word.

"What?" he repeated stupidly.

"You're breathing very hard, Ray."

With an effort, Ray forced himself to think about what Fraser had been saying. Bribes. Scotch. Bolt-cutters. "Oh, shit."

"I'll ask you again: What exactly are you doing right now, Ray?"

Ray's eyes closed of their own accord. It didn't help; it was still real, still happening. He was seconds away from coming, seconds away from losing his best friend, and all he could think about was how the beer on the coffee table was about half a mile away.

"Ray."

"Fraser." Ray clutched his swollen cock; he swallowed hard.

"Ray." Fraser's voice was softer now, not so cool. "Tell me."

"I..." Ray let go of his aching cock and threw his arm over his eyes. "Jesus. I just... Fuck, I've missed you, Fraser." He barely managed to choke it out.

This time it took Fraser a moment to reply, and this time his voice was husky. "And I you, Ray."

It was all Ray could do not to groan aloud, all he could do not to come. "Fraser."

"What are you doing, Ray? Tell me."

I want you. I need you. "I can't."

"Are you..." There was a rustling sound, then silence. "Ray, are you touching yourself?" Pure sex. So unfair. Fraser was about to end Ray's life and his voice was still pure sex.

"Not any more." It was barely more than a whisper. Please, Fraser.

"Do it now."

Oh, Christ. "What?"

"Touch yourself now, Ray."

Ray felt the words like a touch, like a blow, like Fraser's bare hands all over his body. "Fraser."

"Are you naked?"

Ray wasn't even touching himself, and he was going to come. He was going to die. "Yeah," he croaked.

"It's all right, Ray." More rustling sounds. Was that a zipper? "I didn't know."

"Fuck." Ray was going to die right now, right here on this couch. His back arched, his cock desperate for touch, any touch.

"I'll do it with you, Ray. Please." Fraser's voice broke. "I've missed you. I've missed you so very much."

Ray couldn't help it; he groaned, long and low.

"Yes. Oh, yes. Let me hear you."

"Oh, God." Ray couldn't move. Now that he had permission to do this, he couldn't move, couldn't take his arm off his face to touch himself. His balls were going to explode. He couldn't bear it. Fraser. Fraser.

"Ray. Ray. I've wanted you for so long. I wish I could be there right now." Fraser's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "Would you let me touch you? Would you let me kiss you?"

"God!" Ray bowed half off the couch, come spurting all over his belly. "Fuck! Fuck! God! Oh, Jesus!"

Fraser's answering moan rose into a growling crescendo. "Ray!" The sound of Fraser's breathing filled Ray's head, stroked like velvet over his skin. "Ray." More softly now. "Oh, Ray."

Ray was shaking, and so was his voice when he whispered, "Frase."

"I didn't know." Fraser's voice was none too steady, either. "I didn't know."

"I'm sorry." It was stupid to say it now, but Ray had to. "I shouldn't have..."

Fraser chuckled, low and hot, and Ray felt the heat rise all over again.

"I'm not," Fraser said. "I'm not sorry at all."

~ fin ~