Title: Logic

Author: necessary angel

Pairing: Fraser/RayK

Rating: NC17 for m/m slash

Spoilers: For Mountie and Soul but this is just empty calories.

Disclaimer: Alliance owns them I don't

Notes: This has been drifting in and out of my mind since I first saw Mountie and Soul. I even started writing it a few times but other stories got in the way. Anyway it finally got tired of waiting and this is the result.

Feedback: Drooled over at necessary_angel@yahoo.com

Many TYK's to Megan for swift beta services

Logic

Slow slide and shift of one foot against another, long toes curling and flexing against the arm of the couch. Fraser is almost certain he can hear the drag of cotton against skin as Ray's legs stiffen and then relax back into the fluid, boneless state that holds the rest of him. He moves back instinctively as an arm flies up and then settles, curving around Ray's head.

The bright overhead lights do nothing to hide the darkening scrapes and bruises painted on his partner's face, or the shadows beneath the long lashes. The skin along Ray's left cheekbone is beginning to swell, and is so purple as to be almost black. The blond hair is starting to lift and fluff as it dries, and Fraser remembers just why Ray's hair is nearly always "up".

His breath catches as he notices the scratches and grazes winding across the smooth hard lines of Ray's chest and shoulders. The clean, almost triangular, edges tell him exactly where they come from: the glass from the skylight. The thick serge of his own tunic had protected him, but his partner had obviously not been quite so fortunate. He leans in a little closer, automatically shifting the brown paper sack into his other hand so that it won't crush against the back of the couch. The grazes are shallow and clean. He can smell some kind of antiseptic cream, and below that rosemary and eucalyptus and Ray.

Ray's eyelids flicker and squeeze shut again. He groans and pulls his arm over his eyes. The smell of the Chinese food Fraser has brought, or those well-honed instincts, are pulling him out of the first sleep he has had in at least 48 hours. Fraser would feel regretful, but he knows that Ray hasn't eaten in hours and that sleeping on the couch will be almost the worst thing for him.

"Yer right, Fraze." Ray's voice is a little rough and husky from sleep and his arm is still firmly across his eyes.

Fraser is sure he hadn't spoken his thoughts aloud. "What about, Ray?"

He moves round the couch to put the food down on the coffee table. Ray responds to his movements and shuffles into a sitting position.

"What ya said about my physical condition." Ray clarifies, sounding much more awake.

"Oh." Fraser's not sure that the light teasing tone is what is really coming out of his partner's mouth.

"I'm in pretty bad shape."

Ray pushes himself to his feet. His voice is almost a dare now, the challenge curving his lips into a smile that Fraser hasn't seen since their first meeting.

"Indeed you are, very poor." Fraser doesn't quite hit the note of neutral judgement he was aiming for, but that hardly matters.

Ray is rummaging in the refrigerator, but Fraser watches for and catches the shake of his shoulders.

"Can always rely on ya for the bottom line, can't I?" Ray is moving carefully towards him, carrying a bottle of water and a can of soda.

"We are a duet, Ray." Fraser reaches out for the water.

"That we are."

Fraser doesn't miss the controlled way his partner leans back against the couch and the too-steady movements as he eats.

"I still can't believe that Devlin... what a fuckin' waste."

Ray puts his carton down. It is still more than half full, Fraser notes with the part of his mind that is not cataloguing his partner's movements.

"People do..."

"It was one of them rhetorical things, Fraser." The tightness in his friend's voice has nothing to with the conversation.

Fraser puts his own food down; he has to do this now before he loses... before the moment passes.

"I am told that I am quite good at massage, Ray. I could..."

"A massage sounds good."

Ray's voice is casual, almost amused, but Fraser caught the faint flash of surprise before the long eyelashes dipped down.

"Go lie down on your bed." Fraser wipes his hands over his jeans as he stands. "I won't be a minute."

"Yes, Ben."

The same voice that Ray reserves for Lieutenant Welsh, provocative and oddly respectful, although this time it is perhaps a few shades more provocative.

He isn't quite sure what Ray mutters, as he moves slowly towards the bedroom, but it sounds very much like. "Y've been told, huh."

*************************************************************************************************************************************

Ray is sprawled on his back, covering most of the bed, when Fraser enters the bedroom. He had unexpectedly found a bottle of arnica gel in the bathroom cabinet. One of these days he would get used to the twists of his partner's mind, but for now he can only enjoy the ride.

"Ya can put that down." Ray lifts himself onto one elbow. The pale gold skin of his upper body is a startling contrast to the dark blue of the bedcovers.

"I don't understand." Fraser pauses a few steps into the bedroom, twisting the bottle of gel in his hands.

"C'mere and I'll explain." Ray pats the bed next to him; the challenge is back in his voice.

Fraser pulls in a shaking breath as his body reacts to that edge and the spark in Ray's slightly narrowed eyes. They haven't touched yet and he is already light-headed.

"C'mon; I'll only bite ya where ya want me to." Ray is leaning on both elbows now and his tone is much softer than the insolence of his words and bright smile.

"Now I understand." Fraser puts the gel down on the nightstand and sits on the bed, close enough to the edge to bother his tormentor.

"We work so much better when we're on the same page, doncha think, Ben?"

"Of course I..."

Ray's lean hands curve around his biceps, pulling him backward onto the bed, and that hot sweet-tasting mouth fits itself against his own. Fraser murmurs something that starts as a protest, and somehow pulls air into his lungs in the tiny moments of time that their lips are not pressed together.

Ray lifts his head and Fraser is vaguely shocked to find himself fully on the bed, with his partner straddling his hips, his own fingers pressing into the smooth curve of Ray's buttocks beneath his sweats.

"Too many clothes, Ben."

Familiar words and what should be the familiar roll and press of Ray's hips against his groin. Fraser pushes up, trying to deepen the shock and shiver of that contact along his spine. He closes his eyes as Ray pushes the burn higher into his brain, by nipping along Fraser's jaw to that spot just above the tendon.

"Clothes, Ben."

Ray's hand stroking through the sweat-dampened curls on his forehead sends more shivers down his spine, but he opens his eyes.

"You do have a head start on me." Fraser drags his nails up Ray's back by way of emphasis.

"That's true. So I guess I should help."

Ray's voice is very serious but those mutable eyes are a bright blue-green and as far from solemn as he has ever seen them.

"A bad partner would."

That earns him a snicker and a bright stinging nip to his lower lip. Fraser sits up as Ray lifts his weight away and kneels beside him. His body aches at the sudden freedom and his hands shake as he fumbles with his shirt buttons.

Ray's clever hands make very quick work of disposing of his boots and jeans. Fraser has almost finished with his shirt when long fingers brush against the trapped aching bulge of his erection. He rolls his hips into that too light tease and yanks off his shirt despite the still fastened cuffs.

Ray laughs low in his throat; Fraser is almost sure that he has heard Dief make that noise when faced with some particularly sought-after treat. He has no time to think any further as his partner pushes him firmly back onto the mattress. Quick sharp heat as Ray's mouth moves down his chest to his stomach. Lingering there, pressing teeth and tongue against the sensitive curve of flesh just above his hipbone.

Fraser barely stops a much too Dief-like noise from escaping when the clever slick mouth closes over the aching head of his erection, the lick and press of Ray's tongue hardly muted at all by the wet cotton. Cold air puffed gently over the hard pressure of his cock makes that noise escape after all but Fraser can't bring himself to care. Another low laugh, a swift, gentle tug at his boxers and the heat of Ray's mouth is over him.

That's what he wanted, suction that would be too much if wasn't for the light touch and slide of Ray's tongue around the crown. He forces his eyes open and looks. Ray's hand, golden against the pale skin of his stomach, just enough pressure to hold him there. The other wrapped tightly round the base of his cock and Ray's mouth moving down to meet his fingers.

"Wait." Fraser finds the energy to slide his fingers from Ray's hair to press against the back of his neck.

"What?" Ray lifts his mouth just high enough to speak. The puff of air from his words too cold against Fraser's overheated flesh.

Fraser shivers and finds what few words are left in his brain. "I want it to be you, too."

"That'll work." Ray's hand closes more tightly around him and Fraser must move, working himself against the hot almost rough glide of skin.

"Lie down on your side."

Fraser can't make out his words through the shaking of his voice but Ray seems to understand anyway. He wriggles out of his tattered black sweats and slides down along side Fraser.

He shifts himself and then that slick warmth is back on the too-tight skin of his erection. One hand pushes his hips back to the right angle, the other trails almost touching fingers over his thighs and buttocks. His own hands are tight against Ray's hips and finally his mouth is full of Ray's taste and heat.

It all narrows to the slick tight rhythm of Ray's mouth and the thick solid slide of him moving in and out of Fraser's own mouth. It only takes a few minutes or it might have been forever before Fraser feels his spine shake apart. The circuit completes seconds later as Ray shudders and pulses hard into Fraser's mouth.

Fraser pushes himself up onto his elbow. Ray is stretched out on his back, a small smile carving his face. He maneuvers himself so that his head is next to Ray's own, settling himself next to the relaxed warmth of his partner.

"Not quite the medicinal massage that I had in mind."

"My muscles are as relaxed as they're gonna get, so it's just as good as a massage. Just as medicinal as yer massage woulda been. " Ray's voice is lazy, almost sleepy, but the snort comes through.

Fraser rolls onto his stomach so that he can see the angular face. Yes, he had expected that smirk. "We aren't talking logic here, are we, Ray?"