Disclaimer: They're not mine, they're copyright Alliance/Atlantis. No copyright infringement is intended by this fiction.

Warnings: NC-17 for explicit M/M sex (Fraser/Kowalski)

Credits: The paraphrased line "My station's coming in loud and clear" is from Joan Osborne's song "Dracula Moon". There really is a Korean bath house up on Montrose not far from Kedzie.

Dedication: This is for Cate North, who asked for a shower scene.

A Welcome Diversion

"Ah, Fraser, you kill me," Ray said, groaning as he tried to drag his T-shirt off over his head. His stiff, sore body wasn't quite cooperating. Thank God there was no one else in the locker room to see how out of shape he was except Fraser. But he knew the Mountie wouldn't poke fun at him.

"I'm terribly sorry, Ray," Fraser said sheepishly. He should have known from the first time they'd sparred together -- the case where Levon, the boy Ray coached at boxing, was accused of murder. That day, Ray had kept telling him to hit him, hit him, and finally he had -- very hard, and very well, he was chagrined to realize. He hadn't the same training as Ray -- well, he had no training at all -- though he probably could have kept bouncing around the ring as Ray did. But it seemed such a wasteful expenditure of energy that could be better conserved until the right moment to throw a punch. He hadn't meant that punch to loosen Ray's jaw, however.

"Can I help you with that?" the Mountie asked quietly.

There was no one else in the locker room, but it wouldn't have mattered if there were. The low undercurrent of attraction he felt for Ray was just that -- low -- and anyway he kept it completely controlled and sublimated. Living without certain things was second nature to him, after all. What most people considered necessity, he considered luxury. Intimacy being one of them. Though, oh, all right, if he had to admit it, he probably purposely avoided intimacy... not without very good reason, though. And, anyway, this particular longing -- for Ray Kowalski -- could never be indulged: Ray Kowalski, still mourning the loss of his ex-wife and attempting to date other women, would never return the feeling. So Fraser recognized the impossibility of his longings, with a certain kind of relief... and the occasional indulgence in fantasy did not ruffle his considerable composure.

Occasions like this threatened it, though... He shook his head and thrust away those thoughts.

"Help me with what?" Ray said, his voice muffled in the T-shirt which was now half on his torso, and half over his head, obscuring his hair and face.

"This," Fraser said, and stepped toward Ray. He grasped the leading seam of the T-shirt, which Ray was still holding in one hand while he groaned. With a strong, even pull, the Canadian peeled the shirt the rest of the way off his blond partner. Ray relaxed and stretched his arms out to aid Fraser in removing the shirt. Not for the first time did Fraser note admiringly the lean, compact muscles of Ray's body. Then he shook his head, back to the present, back to the groaning detective in front of him -- and handed Ray back his shirt.

"Thanks, Frase," Ray Kowalski sighed. Fraser, as usual, was better than him at boxing too. And unschooled at that -- learned it from a book, for Chrissakes. Oh, well. Gorgeous as the Mountie always would be -- Ray thought wistfully for a moment -- he was curiously awkward about other things that Ray was good at. So Ray guessed it all evened out. He took the shirt held out in front of his face, and raised his head to look at Fraser.

His eyes stopped at the flat, lean stomach and then traveled slowly upward. The nicely muscled chest grabbed at his breath -- as usual. He'd better shut his mouth and swallow a couple times before he started stammering. Fraser's shoulders were so broad. His limbs muscular but not overdeveloped -- nor underdeveloped as he felt himself to be. Ah, well, if this were the closest he'd ever get to be with Fraser -- this was fine. This was more than fine. He wasn't sure he wanted to go down that road anyway...

Oh, what a lie. Of course he did. But he was never, ever going to let Mr. Canadian Chick Magnet King-of-Politeness Fraser know that... because he'd rather live agonizingly close to the one person he wanted and couldn't have, than to lose Fraser because the Mountie discovered his secret and was repelled. Because there was no way Fraser was "that way". Ray wasn't sure he was "that way" himself... but he had started to assume he must be, since he kept looking at his partner -- his very male, very masculine partner -- with more-than-platonic thoughts in his mind.

And, if he were honest, he'd had fleeting moments of attraction to other men... but very fleeting. Not much more than noting competitively how much more handsome or well-built other guys were compared to him. And that was nothing like this. No one had quite turned his head -- and his heart -- the way Fraser did. He kept his confused longings to himself, wondering what was happening to him, but stubbornly refusing to take a step in the direction all his instincts wanted him to go. There was too much at stake... friendship, partnership. Too much to lose.

And Ray didn't want to lose anything or anyone else in his life. He'd had enough of that the past few years. Right now he was just trying to hang onto what little he still had, such as the fantastic -- if bizarre -- luck of getting the Mountie for a built-in friend... one who turned out to be a real friend, a staunch, loyal, and protective companion. He remembered his time at the Canadian consulate, during the Volpe investigation, wistfully. So close and yet so far.

"You're very welcome, Ray," the Mountie said, just as Ray glanced up at him.

Their gazes locked at a peculiar moment. Fraser's expression seemed... well, almost tender, which completely took Ray aback. Tender and... almost something else... nah, you're crazy, he thought. Yer absolutely nuts, forget it. Get yer mind outta the gutter, gonad-boy.

The Mountie thought he saw Ray's eyes moving slowly up him... in a way that he'd only ever seen Ray look at a woman. A look of hungry longing moved swiftly across his partner's angular features, then completely erased itself -- but for a tell-tale hooding of the eyes and widening of the pupils.

They stared at each other for only a few moments -- but those few moments seemed ten times longer to both men.

Finally Fraser looked away and wordlessly stepped back to face his own locker. He hadn't much with him -- towels were provided, but he only had one pair of sweats, which he would have to wash before they did this again. Not that Ray looked inspired to do it again any time soon. At least, not for reasons of boxing anyway... no, just stop thinking that way, he sternly told himself.

The detective cleared his throat and got wearily up from the bench. He turned to his locker, side by side with the Mountie's. He glanced sidelong at Fraser, who was slowly skimming off his dark gray sweat pants. Ray smiled to himself, noting the boxers that Fraser wore. That was exactly what Ray would expect Fraser to wear. Ray threw his balled up T-shirt onto the top shelf of his locker and began to take off his sweats.

Fraser glanced sideways at his blond partner and watched Ray slowly undo the drawstring of his sweats and slide them down his long, lean legs. The detective stepped out of them, now wearing only his briefs... Snug briefs... Briefs is a good name for them, Fraser thought, his peripheral vision gradually becoming head-on before he realized it. When he did, he looked up and found Ray looking at him with what might be described "a dumbfounded expression".

He blushed instantly, and turned his head away. It wouldn't do for that "dumbfounded" expression to slowly become suspicious and then angry. He busied himself with folding his sweat pants.

Fraser could not have been looking at him "that way"... Ray swiftly caught himself. You only had to see how the man blushed to know that, whatever he had been thinking, it hadn't been that. Fraser often reacted to Frannie in that embarrassed way... and everyone -- except possibly Frannie -- knew that Fraser didn't feel anything special for her. He sighed.

"See ya in the showers, Frase," Ray said quietly, stripping off his briefs hastily and throwing them up to where his T-shirt was. He swiftly stepped over the bench to get away from the Mountie before he revealed himself... without saying a word or doing anything at all. Normally, his easy and swift stiffening under certain circumstances was only a slightly annoying reminder of how horny he was and how long it had been before he'd actually gotten off with anyone but himself.

But it was imperative that he literally douse that slowly increasing arousal now.

The Mountie did not turn to watch him go, Ray discovered with a discreet sidelong glance over his shoulder as he walked away. He sighed again. He had made his mind up to never, ever let a soul know how he felt about his partner. But every once in a while his desire rose in his throat -- or just as easily, settled into his pants -- and Ray would have think of some way to distract himself, immediately.

But it was pretty hard to do that when the big guy was just... naked and gorgeous and right next to him... and so clueless.

Ray violently twisted the hot-water knob at the second shower in the row of communal showers, and then yelped as the water came out ice cold initially. The water must have been sitting in the pipe for a while to get so cold, but it was just as well. He let the shock of it course over his body, killing his slowly heightening arousal immediately, and making his balls wanna crawl up into his body. Soon enough the water was hot and steaming, anyway. He stepped back under the heavy spray, and turned his face up into it.

The merciless needling of his face was all he needed to bring his brain back under control, he thought. He turned and let the water pound down on his head and the back of his neck.

That damn partner of his, that damn polite, and nice, and well-spoken, and freaking gorgeous partner of his was diffidently walking over to the shower next to his. His body and muscles moved with the kind of easy grace and strength that you saw under the pelt of a wild animal. Not when it was tensed or flexed in pre-pounce or pursuit, but when it lazily padded along a trail or down to the water's edge on one o' them nature shows.

And, of course, Fraser was as clueless as a wild animal would be that anyone -- that his male partner -- could find that attractive. No one had inspired this level of crotch watching in Ray before -- and if he wasn't careful (or Fraser weren't clueless), he might reveal himself all too easily. But still he couldn't help it... his eye was drawn down Fraser's muscled pectorals, to his flat stomach, to the thin ribbon of darkening hair that began below the Mountie's navel and quickly widened as it descended to his cock. Ray tried not to look, but he couldn't help it... Curiosity (Fraser wasn't circumcised) and desire brought his eyes back to it again and again. It certainly seemed, well, good-sized... but then he knew flaccid size didn't mean much... but then he also knew it wouldn't matter to him how big it was...

What the hell is wrong with you, he interrupted his thoughts. Get a grip! You're never gonna know how big it is or isn't because you're never gonna see it hard! Get your mind outta the gutter!

Ray quickly turned his face back under the hot spray. The strong needling feel of the water wore down his desire.

The water came on next to him. He wouldn't look, wouldn't look... oh, all right, he'd look sideways.

Fraser was letting the water course over him, and brought his hands over his head, clasped together, in some kinda weird stretch. It was such an uncharacteristic move on his part, that Ray could only stare dumbly at what had to be one of the first times he'd ever seen Fraser visibly demonstrate that he could, in fact, get stressed, or tired, or sore, or achy, or otherwise in need of relaxation and stretching. In fact it was such an odd thing to see, that Ray realized he'd never seen it before.

Oh, he'd seen the thumb nail across the eyebrow thing; he'd seen the one-two shuffle of the Mountie's feet (especially when his hands were behind his back and he was dealing with The Ice Queen)... and he'd seen -- and heard -- the "Hmmmm"s, the swift passing of the tip of Fraser's tongue across his lips (and, oh, how it ached to see that and know that it could never be his). But he'd never seen Fraser stretch... least of all in all his naked glory and beauty in a shower.

Ray sighed again, turning his face back into the spray. He was gonna drown before this was over... just from trying to keep his eyes off his partner by putting them back under the pounding water.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Mountie noticed his blond partner staring at him again. Inwardly, he groaned, feeling that first heart-catching inhalation of hope, only to be swiftly followed by the automatic reasoning that he saw only what he wanted to see, and that there was no longing or any other intimate emotion on his partner's face... just a kind of bored curiosity.

"Hey, Fraser," Ray yelled over the loud noise of the water from the showers.

"Yes, Ray?" the Mountie called back.

This time Ray looked at him. But the water pounding one side of the detective's head made impossible to describe his expression, or to divine what it could mean. His hair was completely plastered flat to his head. His light blue eyes flashed at the Mountie through the water... though Fraser knew what it didn't mean. He carefully kept his eyes front and center, on his partner's face, not... on other areas.

"I know this Korean bathhouse up on Montrose by Kedzie, Fraser. They got three kinds of baths: hot, hotter, and superhot. I could really use some superhot right about now... these showers don't cut it. I think I'm gonna cut outta here pretty soon."

He looked away, turning to the soap dispenser on the wall and squeezing some onto his hand. He stepped out of the waters path and began soaping his body, not really expecting the Mountie to respond. He didn't really do much more than his face, his pits, his crotch and ass... he'd get fully clean after a long soak in each one of the hot baths up on Montrose.

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Ray," Fraser said, turning to the soap dispenser near him and squeezing some out. Of course, conservationist that he was, he turned his shower off while he soaped up his body.

Ray rolled his eyes. With such a huge body of water so close nearby -- Lake Michigan -- he wasn't real worried about conserving water. He had to smile, though. It was so nice. So polite. So Canadian. So Fraser.

"Did you want to go there?" the Mountie asked, not looking at his partner.

"Yeah, but, you know, you don't haveta come with. I just meant, I really need a soak... maybe a massage... I gotta do something before all my muscles seize up and I can't move," he joked.

"Well, Ray, ordinarily I wouldn't recommend drugs, but aspirin is an anti-inflammatory drug derived from a tree bark... it would probably help keep your muscles from hurting so much..."

"Oh, I know dat... But I also know there's nothin' I can do about it -- it's gonna happen eventually. So... that's why I figured on the Korean baths. There's a sauna too. So either way I can bake or boil my bones and not feel quite so stiff and sore. At least not until tomorrow morning," Ray spoke loudly, almost yelling over the sound of his shower. He stepped back under the water to rinse his body.

"-- would be a welcome diversion, Ray, and--"

"What?" the detective asked, realizing that the first part of Fraser's sentence had been lost to him while he stood directly in the water's path, water pounding down on his head and face.

"I said," the Mountie began loudly, turning his hot water knob back on again, "that a trip to this bath house would be a welcome diversion to me, Ray, and that it might very well soothe your muscles. So I'm all for it."

"You are?" Ray asked, almost dumbfounded again. He hadn't meant for Fraser to come with.

The Mountie regarded him with a bit of a puzzled stare. "Should I not be?"

"No, no, no, no," Ray hastily added. "No, I just didn't think... you'd wanna go."

Another dilemma. He wondered what he had done to deserve this: a couple more hours of the torture of being in the presence of the one person in the world that you want, and the last person in the world you could tell about it. Well, it might be torture, but it was a kind of pleasant torture. He knew he'd never have the guts to do anything about it, so he could just enjoy Fraser's company and float his eyes over the man's classical-sculpture-like body. It would be "safe" enough, he hoped.

He just had to make sure that he thought about something nasty and unappetizing in case his naked body revealed his feelings for him in Fraser's presence... Like the time his old dog had thrown up on his bed, for example... Or the time they'd dissected the freshly killed -- not formaldehyde-preserved -- frogs in high school and removed their digestive tracts and put 'em in a Petri dish with some chemical that made their esophagus and stomach do that pari... peris.... that swallowing-digesting-muscle-clenching thing. He shuddered. Definite lust-killers, those thoughts. Thank God...

"If it's all right with you," Fraser began humbly, "I wouldn't mind seeing them. We never had things like bath houses where I grew up -- well, technically, there was that one part of the mountains with many hot springs, but they built the buildings around the springs, and this made for rather--"

"Look, Fraser, it's no big deal. Ya go there, you stash your stuff in lockers, you go into the bath area, there's like three baths, each one hotter than the next, and there's a sauna, and if you want you can lay down on this table and the little old guy scratches your hide up real good with tree branches... or you can get a more traditional massage that doesn't involve having your skin ripped off with tree branches."

"Oh, you see, Ray, that's to stimulate circulation, as well as--"

"Stimulate it? Yeah, I'll say it stimulates it... stimulates it right off my body. No thanks, Frase, I'll skip the tree branches."

"I'm sure they aren't tree branches. Probably some small shrub--"

"Whatever. No plant massage for me."

"As you wish."

The two men had both completely rinsed their bodies, and shut off the water in their showers. They made their way back to their lockers, grabbing towels from the neatly folded pile on the bench nearest the showers.

Ray immediately tucked his towel around his waist... just in case anything popped up he didn't want Fraser to freak out about...

~~~

The GTO rumbled to life, the purring vibration of the engine momentarily turning him on again. He sighed -- probably anything would turn him on right about now. Stop it, stop it, stop it! he told himself.

Fraser sat next to him, in his Serge. His little knapsack with his sweatpants and T-shirt was in the back seat. It wasn't quite winter yet -- Indian summer still lingered -- and Ray was warm enough in his leather jacket. He remembered that itchy-warm feeling from Turnbull's serge, that day at the Canadian consulate.

For some reason, though he had firmly squashed any mental images of he and Fraser, an image rose in his mind's eye: two Serge-clad men, Fraser and Turnbull (who was surprisingly tall, actually), in a passionate embrace and swapping spit. He groaned, shutting his eyes and feeling his face flush. Stop!

"Is something wrong, Ray?" Fraser said, tilting his head to look at his partner.

"Nah..." Ray said raggedly, eyes still shut. "I just... stomach pain for a minute, is all, Frase," he mumbled.

"Chamomile tea is good for that, Ray."

"Right." The detective opened his eyes, having got his thoughts under control again, and just as he was preparing to put the car in drive, Fraser spoke.

"Seatbelt, Ray," he said quietly.

Kowalski glanced over at his partner, irritated, but his expression softened when he saw the look on Fraser's face. It wasn't prim or proper or Mountie-like... it just looked concerned. Ray swallowed the smartass remark he'd been about to make, and smiled slightly instead, shaking his head. Oh, Fraser might drive him nuts most of the time... in more ways than just by being Mr. Perfect. But at least he cared.

He put his seatbelt on silently, and then put the car in drive.

For some reason, he didn't peel away from the curb with squealing tires, leaving smoke and black marks. He pulled smoothly out of his parking place and drove calmly down the street to the stop light.

~~~

"Okay, now, if you wanna, this is what they kinda do... you go in there, you siddown in the hot baths, or you go in the sauna, and you sweat or bake or boil or whatever. You can't stay in any of 'em more than forty-five minutes, it's some kinda rule, but I think they break it for the Chinese Mafia that come here. Anyways, then you get out, get your little white robe, and you go outside into this little "rest" room. The "rest" area is through this door right by the door to the baths, but you get into it from the locker room. You can sit there and drink tea or eat this really disgusting kim chee stuff."

"Really disgusting?"

"Yeah, it's like hot and spicy but it's cold and vinegary and it tastes like cabbage."

"Ray, I think it is cabbage."

"Whatever... it's just not real appetizing, is all I'm saying. Sushi -- fine, no probs. Even the tea I don't mind, although it needs sugar. But not this kim chee stuff -- yuck." Ray shook his head.

They were standing at their lockers, slowly peeling their clothes off again. This time Ray wasn't going to look at Fraser at all, which wasn't difficult, since he couldn't wait to soak his bones in the superhot water. His jacket was in the locker, as were his shoulder holster and gun, and the T-shirt he'd just peeled off. He kicked off his shoes and swiftly took off his pants. They got hung on a hook in the locker, and the shoes got thrown into the bottom of the locker. The shirt was balled up on the top shelf. Ray grabbed the white cotton fuzzy robe they'd each been given when they paid the man at the window, and slipped into it.

"I imagine it's Green tea," Fraser remarked to no one in particular.

He, of course, was slowly and methodically disrobing. He hung his Serge jacket on the hook in the locker. He slid his suspenders off his shoulders and stripped off his Henley shirt. It turned inside out as he did this, so he then turned it right-side out and folded it. He put it on the top shelf in the locker.

"Frase, I'm dying to get into that hot water," Ray said nervously, not wanting to stick around and see the slow, unintended strip tease his partner had begun. "I'm gonna go on out and jump in one o' them baths, okay? When you get out there, just pick a hook and hang your robe on it and then pick a bath. They're all hot, but the coolest one is close to the door, and then they go hot-hotter-hottest in a counter clockwise thing from there. Okay?"

"Certainly, Ray. See you out there."

"If you don't, it's 'cause I'm in the sauna/steam thingie."

"It's a sauna and a steam room?"

"Yeah, well, you can have dry heat if you want -- but if you want steam, you just take this dipper and dip in the water and pour a little on the hot rocks, and then you get steam."

"Ah, like a sweat lodge."

"Whatever... if you don't see me, that's where I'll be."

"Very well."

"Okay... see ya out there." He turned swiftly and was gone. The Mountie was still unlacing his boots.

Eventually Fraser was clad only in the robe. He realized they must have purchased the "one size fits all" robes... from somewhere in Korea, apparently, since it was a bit too small for him. In order to get it completely around his body, he had to wrap it rather snugly. Oh, well, modesty was never a bad thing, he reflected. He just wasn't sure it would stay wrapped around him if he didn't hold it closed.

He went down the little hall and opened the clear glass door, through which he could see the faded aqua tile all over the room, and the steaming baths. Each one looked like it could hold eight to ten men... but there were only four men in the room besides Ray. One was getting the invigorating massage with shrubbery branches, one was doing the massage, and each of the other two men had a bath to himself, as did Ray. There was another glass door, but it was so steamed up on the inside, you couldn't see into it. That must be the steam room, he concluded.

He pushed the door open and walked carefully to the hooks he saw on the tiled wall. He took off his robe and hung it on the hook, making a mental note that it was the fourth hook down from the left. (There were three other robes hanging there). The tile on the floor and walls was light green, the insides of the baths were painted a pale aqua -- everything combined to give the room an almost eerie, greenish light to it.

Well, he'd try the coolest bath first. Ray was already in it, sitting on the bench that ran around the underwater perimeter of the bath on three of the four walls. A small set of stairs on the fourth wall lead down into the bath. The detective was in the water up to his armpits, arms stretched out along the edge of the bath, looking very relaxed. Almost drowsy.

Fraser walked over to it slowly and carefully -- the floor, the walls, everything was covered with a fine layer of moisture, condensation from the heavily moist air landing on the much cooler tiles. He dipped his toes in the bath. It was scalding and he barely suppressed a small cry as he swiftly drew his foot back and stood on both feet again, his weight shifting.

Ray looked up at him, his hair up in some spots, down in others. He smiled.

"Hot, huh?" His eyes sparkled... or was it just the many reflections from all the water in the room?

"Yes, rather," the Mountie replied. The look of amusement on his partner's face was sheer mischief.

"Bet ya never hadda deal with heat like this up in the great white north, huh, Frase?" Ray teased him.

"No, Ray, never," Fraser said, dipping his toes into the hot bath again. It was scalding hot, but his competitive streak surfaced. He could deal with this, even if it wasn't exactly his natural element... he was a Mountie. He resolved to imagine the snowy tundra, a majestic heard of caribou running across it, about to plunge into the icy waters of the river they needed to cross...

He put his right foot down on the first underwater step. The scalding water was now over his ankle... his one ankle. He would conquer this... using his mind.

Ray looked up at his partner's mouth, set in a thin line of determination. He smiled again, more to himself than at Fraser, and looked away. The Mountie's very pale flesh was rapidly becoming flushed and rosy. It didn't look bad on him at all.

The other foot descended onto the first step into the bath and now both Fraser's feet were in the hot, steaming water. He moved his right foot onto the next lower step, feeling the hot water shocking the skin from just above his ankle to just above mid-calf. He gritted his teeth and brought his left foot to stand beside it.

He briefly glanced at Ray, but in that moment noticed the detective was sitting much more upright now.

"Fraser, you don't have to do this," Ray said, as soon as their eyes met. The Mountie looked back at the slightly green water of the tub, and stubbornly put his right foot down on the next step into the bath. The scalding water was now up over his knee.

"Fraser, don't," Ray said, standing up in the bath now. He put his hands out in a "just take it easy" gesture. "You don't have to do this to prove anything. I mean, yer probably way better at not getting hypothermia than me. I know you can take the cold like no one else I know. Maybe this just isn't for you. You can go in the steam room instead, or something," he said, somewhat worried. He'd noticed Fraser setting his jaw as he stepped further into the bath.

"No, Ray," Benton Fraser said through clenched teeth. "I want to do this."

"Well, you don't look like you're enjoying it," Ray said, looking up at Fraser with concern. "Don't do it if you don't like it, Frase. I mean, for Pete's sake, you don't have to impress me. I already know you're better 'n me at just about everything, 'cept kicking people in the head."

"I'm not doing it to impress you, Ray," the Mountie said, staring down at the hot water, and sounding a bit hurt. "I just wanted to be in the bath with you." His right foot came down onto the next step, bringing the water to his upper thigh.

Ray froze. No, no, no, that was not what you think it was, that did not mean what you want it to mean, he thought to himself. He slowly sank back down onto the bench in the bath tub. He just wants to be in the bath with me... that's it. That's all. He only meant what he said.

Fraser was now flushed from head to foot.

"Are you sure, Frase?" he asked cautiously, not looking at the Mountie.

"Yes, Ray, I am sure," Fraser replied. His left foot came down next to his right, and he forced his right foot down to the next step. He inhaled sharply; the water had just covered the bottom of his scrotum. It was hotter than the hottest thing he could imagine.

And yet, oddly relaxing. His feet and legs felt almost as if they'd gone numb, a kind of buzzing numb, a wildly alive, buzzing, hot numbness. The muscles of his calves and thighs, as he brought his left foot next to his right again, were starting to feel quite... loosened. As much as they might have tensed upon being covered with excruciatingly hot water, they could not maintain a stiff, tensed state for very long under the muscle-loosening onslaught. It was if his muscles were being melted.

Fraser stepped slowly down the remaining two steps, wincing slightly as his testicles and penis, and then hips were completely surrounded by steaming hot water. He looked at Ray, who looked concerned.

"Ya all right?" the detective asked, watching Fraser.

"Yes, I think so," the Mountie said, taking a deep breath.

"I only ask cuz yer, like, as red as a tomato," Ray added. He was not smiling but there was a faint edge of humor to his voice.

Fraser said nothing and sat slowly down on the bench across from Ray. The steaming hot water shocked his torso and he expelled the breath he'd been holding. The heat was almost delirium-inducing... he could see how people might have visions this way.

"I ...find ...that ...unlikely, Ray," he finally replied.

"What, that yer as red as a tomato?"

"Yes."

"Well, ya are," Ray smiled, relaxing now. Fraser appeared to be okay.

"Hmmmm," Fraser said, relaxing and letting his body get used to the hot water. He rested his arms on the edge of the bath as Ray was doing.

"Okay?" Ray asked him, his head tilted slightly diagonally.

"Yes, I think so," Fraser said truthfully. It wasn't really so bad, now... now that his body was used to the steaming hot water surrounding it, and had not yet begun to blister into burns. "How hot is this water?"

"I dunno, probably over a hundred degrees. Fahrenheit, ya know."

"Well, of course, Ray," Fraser pointed out. "If it were over a hundred degrees centigrade, the water would be boiling."

"The other ones are ...hotter," Ray said, gesturing at the two men in each of the other two baths.

"How long do we stay in?" The Mountie asked. The languid feeling that now suffused his limbs made him feel he wouldn't be capable of getting out, even if he wanted too.

"As long as you want, up to like forty-five minutes... you won't want to stay in that long... well, I don't, so you'll want to even less," Ray smiled. Twin drops of sweat beaded at each of his temples and then dripped down the sides of his face.

"Right," Fraser said, feeling the sweat on his brow, his upper lip, his temples. He wiped his face with his hand.

"I like it like this," Ray said, scrunching himself down on the bench, bringing his knees up to his chest and circling them with his arms. He hunkered down so that he was now in the bath water up to his chin.

"Ah," Fraser said.

"But it still won't loosen everything..." As he said the last sentence, Ray realized how it might sound -- too late to stop himself from saying it. "Loosen everything" -- it sounded perverse. He could just picture it in his head -- No. NO. Stop. The dog. Remember the time the dog threw up on your bed and you didn't know and you laid down right in the puke...

Fraser watched emotions chase themselves across Ray's face so quickly as to be unidentifiable. His eyebrows lifted involuntarily, wondering what Ray had just been thinking.

"Anyways..." Ray said, voice trembling. Shut up, Ray, just shut up.

"I read a book on reflexology once," Fraser said thoughtfully. "And one on therapeutic massage during physical rehabilitation, post-injury. They were most enlightening."

"I'm sure they were... this what you read before you go to bed, Frase?" Ray teased gently.

"As a matter of fact, Ray..." Fraser began and then trailed off, noting the mischief on his partner's face. "They were from the Chicago Public Library, Ray," he added, but with a smile of his own in return.

"Yeah, so you think you know all about massage now, huh?"

"Well, I don't know about all about massage, but..."

"Actually," Ray interrupted him, thinking of Fraser's boxing skill, "knowing you, you probably do know all about massage, now." He smiled, a trifle wistfully. "I never could learn things from books too well. I learn a lot better from doing something than from reading about it."

"Different people learn differently, Ray," Fraser shrugged. "I could show you what I've learned, and then you could learn it."

He could show me. Oh, boy, could he show me... No, no, stop that thought... Could he ever show me massage, though, Ray thought. Just imagining Fraser's strong hands on his body...

"Time for the other bath, for me," Ray said suddenly, jumping up and turning his back to Fraser. He ascended the steps quickly and walked the few feet to the next hottest bath, quickly plunging in. He sat with his back to Fraser. The other two men had by this time moved to the sauna and the hottest bath, respectively. The masseuse was tidying up, and the man who had gotten the massage was gone.

The Mountie, who had turned on the bench to watch Ray's sudden departure, wondered what he had said.

Then it hit him, what the possible underlying meaning of what he'd just said could be... how it could be taken... and though he scarce thought it possible, he could feel himself flushing even more.

Oh, dear, he thought, I've given Ray the wrong impression... should I go to the bath he's in, and try to explain? And what did I say that for, in that way, anyway? Why not just blurt out your secret thoughts, Benton, he thought. He faced forward again, wondering whether it was better to stay where he was or to follow Ray and ease his mind about what he'd just said. He was heartily embarrassed now and somewhat distrustful of himself. Who knew what he'd next say that would inadvertently reveal things he'd hidden -- and would prefer to keep that way?

He waited a moment, trying to stem the rising confusion and worry in him, trying to think how best to approach the topic with Ray. But no matter how he pictured it or envisioned it, he pretty much had to at least allude to what Ray might have thought. He looked over his shoulder once more, only to find Ray now on the opposite side of the bath he was in. The detective was once more in an easy relaxed pose, his head thrown back on the tiled edge of the tub. His Adam's apple pointed to the ceiling.

Fraser took a deep breath and then stood up, and slowly walked up the steps and out of the bath. The air, which had felt so hot when he'd come in from the locker room, seemed a bit chill now. The aftermath of his body acclimating to the intense heat of the bath. He walked carefully over to the hotter bath Ray was in, and down the steps. This time the heat didn't seem scalding... it seemed welcoming.

Ray heard the water swish slightly and lifted his head. He looked ...drowsy, Fraser thought. Drowsy and... somehow sad.

"Oh," Ray said, "hi."

"Hi," Fraser began carefully, sitting down on the bench across from Ray. He averted his eyes, looking down through the churning water at his limbs, at how disjointed they looked through the disturbed water.

"Ray, I hope you didn't misinterpret what I meant when I said I could show you what I'd learned of massage," he began hesitantly, not looking at his partner.

"Uh, misinterpret how? No, uh, no, I didn't," Ray answered his own question.

"All right then," Fraser began, glancing briefly at Ray. He'd curled up into that "hunkered" position again, arms around his knees, pressed up against his chest, chin in the water.

"Right," Ray repeated, looking away.

"I just meant, uh, I could show you, not that I would show you on you, of course, certainly not... that is, not unless you wanted me to, in which case of course, you being my friend--"

"Fraser!" Ray interrupted the Mountie's stammering rambling.

"Yes?" Benton said, rather sheepishly.

"Fine, whatever! I knew what you meant," Ray hurriedly finished. "You don't have ta go on and on about it. You'll show me. Later. Maybe some other day," he added wistfully.

A day that would never come, he reflected, because he'd be too completely freaked and aroused the minute Fraser put a hand on his naked flesh to hide anything. And so he would have to avoid that at all costs.

"As you wish," the Mountie replied quietly after a moment.

Ray leaned his head back again, shutting his eyes and trying to think of nothing.

They didn't speak for a while.

Then Ray picked his head up again.

"I'm gonna go chill in the "rest room", Frase," he said somewhat faintly.

Was he hearing something that was not there? Fraser wondered. There seemed a distinctly resigned tone to Ray's voice... but a finality as well. A "don't follow me in there" finality.

He stayed in the bath, while Ray got out and wrapped his lean frame with his robe. The detective disappeared through the glass door that led to the locker room.

~~~

The tea was warm in his suddenly cool hands. Well, he felt a lot more relaxed now. Not completely relaxed, but... pretty relaxed. As relaxed as he was ever gonna get, sitting around in a bath house with his best friend and partner... and the object of his unmentioned and unreturned love and lust.

Ray sighed, sipping the tea. He'd had to add a lot of sugar, but it wasn't as if he had to watch his weight. Hell, he couldn't put weight on if he tried. Bulking up... that was something he'd never been able to do. Except lifting weights, which he could do, except that he didn't have a lot of time, found it boring, and despised the vapid pretty yuppie guys who flocked to the local health clubs.

Fraser. Ray shook his head. If he didn't know better -- if he didn't know he was nuts to think or even hope for a second that it could be true -- he'd think that Fraser had meant something by his "I could show you" comment.

For the briefest second, he wondered if Fraser was knowingly teasing him... But then he quickly dismissed that. Fraser wasn't even capable of something like that.

He finished his tea in one draught, and then stood. Feeling somewhat more composed, he made his way back to the baths, intent on the hottest one. Dammit. The old masseur guy was gone. It must be later than he thought... Damn. Now he was gonna get no massage at all. The knot between his shoulder blades tightened again.

When he got out to the baths, Fraser was now in the hottest bath. His shoulders were slumped a bit, and his hands palm up in his lap. His head leaned back much the same way Ray himself had been leaning, but his eyes were closed. Now his Adam's apple pointed to the ceiling. There was something about the way he was sitting there that seemed... sad and vulnerable somehow. Ray quietly hung his robe on the hook farthest on the left, and then had to walk past Fraser to get to the stairs down into the bath.

He paused near the bath, not far from where Fraser's head lolled back on the tile. For just a moment, Ray wanted nothing in the world more than he wanted to run his fingers through Fraser's thick, wet hair. To stop and tell Fraser that whatever was bothering him would be okay. He even began to bend down and extend his hand, almost before he realized it. But then he realized what he had been about to do, and snatched his hand back... at the same time as Fraser opened those piercing blue eyes and looked up at him, startled.

"Oh, hey... I just had some tea," Ray said conversationally. But he wondered if Fraser had seen his hand about to come down, to smooth the sweat off Fraser's brow. He hastily plunged into the hot bath, inhaling sharply at the heat. "Whoa. Hot, hot, hot."

"Is it Green tea?" Fraser asked absently, lifting his head to regard Ray.

"I, uh," Ray stuttered for a moment, feeling captured and pinned by the sudden, odd intensity of Fraser's gaze. He shook it off. "I dunno... I dunno what Green tea tastes like."

"It tastes like--" Fraser began, leaning forward. But then he stopped and shut his mouth. "Never mind," he said, somewhat resignedly. "Maybe I will go get some tea."

It had been all too noticeable that Ray had felt he had to leave when Fraser was in the bath with him. The Mountie was confused. He thought they had ascertained that nothing untoward had been discussed or offered. That nothing untoward had gone on or would go on. And yet Ray had jumped up out of the bath. Perhaps they hadn't cleared anything up at all -- perhaps he'd only muddied the waters further.

Or, he reluctantly concluded, perhaps Ray just didn't want him around so much. Or not so close, anyway. Fraser knew he would never do anything to Ray with a hidden agenda, with an ulterior motive. Oh, well, there was the post-hypnotic suggestion thing... but that was different. He hadn't laid a hand on Ray. He could even have implanted a post-hypnotic suggestion -- or tried to anyway -- to prime Ray to accept an overture.

It would have been an ideal way, he mused, to figure out if there was any possibility with Ray at all... because, after all -- and contrary to popular belief -- people would not commit acts under hypnosis or from post-hypnotic suggestions that they would not commit while conscious of their actions and behavior. If there was any part of Ray that was receptive to more-than-platonic overtures from Fraser, the Mountie could have figured it out that way.

But of course he had not and he never would. It was only partly ethics, he admitted to himself. The other part was that he was simply afraid to know one way or the other... ignorance was bliss, in this particular circumstance.

So, he reflected, he should get up and get some tea. Let Ray soak and soak alone, as he apparently wanted to. He sighed, and drew a breath, then stood up.

"Where you going?" Ray said, seeing Fraser stand up in the bath.

"I thought you'd like some, ah, time alone... and I would like to see if it is, in fact, Green tea," Fraser said uncertainly.

"Oh, but, you're coming back pretty soon, right? Or... or you're gonna stay and chill for a while?"

His partner seemed strangely disappointed, Fraser realized. Now he was more confused than ever.

"Well, Ray, I--"

"Nah, nah, go 'head. Who am I to tell you what to do or try. This is supposed to be for relaxation, after all. You can't relax if someone's always telling ya what to do. So go on," Ray gestured.

"Would you like me to--"

"Nah, you go ahead. If I'm not here, I'll be in the steam room," Ray said, looking away, down at his hands under the water.

"All right, then..." The Mountie trailed off uncertainly. But he couldn't wait here to organize his thoughts. He needed his robe... he could already feel the coolness of the air around him.

He walked up the little staircase and out of the bath to the hook on the wall. He put on his robe. Then he quietly exited into the locker room, taking a sharp right after the entrance -- to get to the "rest" room.

Ray sighed. He was just bungling thing after thing. Crap. Oh, well. It wasn't as if something was going to come of it anyway, he thought to himself.

~~~

The steam room door opened, and a whole bunch of the steam went out through the open door.

It was just Fraser.

Ray lay on one of the wooden platforms, rising like amphitheater seats -- only in a much tinier environment. He was on the second tier to the top, and was naked... he'd left his robe out there on the hook. Oh... well.

The Mountie, still clad in his robe, sat down on the first tier, with his robe on.

"Fraser, ya can take off the robe," Ray said quietly. "You might want to use it to lay on... this wood's pretty hot."

"Oh," was Fraser's only answer. He stood up, but had to stoop because the room was so low. His robe came off and he set it on the wooden platform bench he'd originally sat on. Then he sat on top of it.

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

From his vantage point, Ray could see how Fraser's torso angled down into a V-shape, tighter and thinner around the waist and hips.

Whereas he was built like a rail, himself. He sighed.

"Fraser," he said hesitantly.

"Yes, Ray?" came the Mountie's ever-polite response.

"Use that dipper and throw some water on the rocks, wouldja?" Yeah, make a lot of steam... so I don't have to look at you... so I know you're there but you're less tempting.

The Mountie dutifully scanned for the small bowl and the dipper, and then found them at the foot of the tiny platform on which the hot rocks sat. He dribbled water on them and the steam rose immediately, in great clouds.

Ray lay down on his back on the hot wood, trying to let his body touch it in as few places as possible. You weren't supposed to sleep in here, but, damn, it was sure hard not to. There wasn't much else you could do in this heat... as if your body demanded you take it easy -- very easy. He could see why the pace of life was just slower the farther south you went in the US. Too damn hot to move quickly.

A few minutes -- maybe more -- passed and he opened his eyes. He rolled onto his side and looked down.

There was Fraser, stretched out on his back, in all his wonderful, symmetrical, statue-like perfection.

It almost hurt to breathe. Okay, it did hurt to breathe... but that was the steamy air, not looking at Fraser, Ray reminded himself. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd rolled onto his stomach and trailed his hand down, as if to touch the Mountie. But then at the last minute, he realized how insane that was, and began to draw his hand back.

That was when Fraser opened his eyes, and freaked. He saw the hand nearby and without thinking, he half sat up and grabbed it. Hard. It was purely instinctual.

"Ow... Let go 'o me, Frase," Ray yelped.

"Ray... I... what were you doing?" Fraser looked confusedly up at Ray, at Ray's wrist in his grasp.

"I-- nothin'. I wasn't doing nothin'. Just my arm was draped over, cuz I was laying on my stomach..." Ray stammered. Still the Mountie held his wrist. He tugged at it, trying to get his hand back. Beads of coalesced sweat flew off him with the effort.

Fraser sat up. "I'm sorry, Ray, I thought it was someone else," he said, somewhat chagrined. He slowly -- almost reluctantly? (no, yer high, Kowalski) -- released Ray's wrist. The detective took it back, rubbing it as if it had been cuffed. He eyed Fraser moodily and suspiciously, wondering what the hell had possessed him to do something so stupid and so obvious... And wondering what kind of problem Fraser was going to have with him now. He prepared himself for the worst.

But all that came out of Fraser's tired voice was...

"I think I've had enough of the steam room, Ray. I'm really quite out of my element here, though it has been quite rewarding and relaxing," Fraser said quite formally. "I do appreciate you bringing me along with you," he added... in just the tone that said he clearly thought Ray had not wanted to do that, and that he was sorry he had.

"Hey, Frase, wait up," Ray said, swinging his legs down and sitting up. He scooted down to the bottom tier.

The Mountie looked up from the floor at him, and this time Ray saw plainly a sad longing on Fraser's face. It was intense and ... he had to look away, and yet he could not.

"Something... wrong?" Ray whispered to his friend, his partner.

"No." Fraser paused, his eyes never leaving Ray's. "Yes. I don't know."

"Something... is wrong?" Ray held his breath.

"Yes. To a certain extent something is wrong," Fraser replied softly.

"And that would be..."

"That would be something, Ray, that we had best not discuss, if you don't mind," Fraser began. Words, words -- always use them to create a barrier. No matter how much you might want to breach it yourself.

"Whaddaya mean?" Rays eyes narrowed, but his quiet voice didn't change.

"I mean... never mind what I mean, Ray," Fraser said finally. "It will pass and there's no need you fretting about it."

And with that, he stepped out the door of the little steam room, taking out a bunch of steam clouds with him.

This was, by far, the worst trip to bath house he had ever made, Ray reflected. Mental note: don't bring anyone here. Always come alone... nothing weird happens that way... nothing happens that makes you think weird things you wanted to come true, are... only to realize how dumb thinking that is.

Ray slowly gathered himself together, feeling like a wet noodle in the hot, steamy environment.

He stood up from the wooden platform, though he did not stand straight up in the low little room. He opened the door and walked out of the steam room. Fraser's robe was gone with him, but his was still there on the wall. He walked over to grab it, noticing that he was the only person in the room with all the baths, now.

Fraser was already under the shower when Ray showed up in the shower next to him. He looked like he felt better, though. For the life of him, Ray had now spent the majority of the last two-plus hours in the presence of his naked, gorgeous friend. As ordinary as it was to see guys naked all the time -- the locker room and gym at work; here at the baths -- it still was not ordinary, even after two-plus hours, to see Fraser naked. Maybe it never would be.

"I do feel quite good, Ray. This was a very good idea," Fraser smiled at Ray.

"I'm glad you think so," the detective said laconically, turning on the water of his shower.

"It's amazing, I know I have this water as hot as it can be, and yet it seems cool compared to where we just were, doesn't it?" Fraser seemed in good spirits.

"You got used to the extreme heat," Ray shrugged. "If you ever have to relocate to Arizona or Florida, at least you'll know you can take the heat."

He stood under the spray, trying to let it pound the notch of dim pain that still existed in between his shoulder blades. He turned to face away from Fraser... not to be rude or shy, but just because his awe at his friend's natural beauty was wearing on him... since he knew that beauty could only be observed, never enjoyed.

"Damn," Ray muttered, rolling his shoulders as the water coursed over him.

"Something wrong?"

"Yeah, well, this one kink in my back just will not go... it's starting to drive me nuts. Not that I wasn't already," Ray said, aiming the spray directly at the part of his anatomy he'd just described.

"Here, let me help you with that," Fraser said. And because Ray's back was to him, the detective did not know how close Fraser had come to him... until the Mountie's strong hands settled on his shoulder muscles, between his neck and the ball-and-socket of his shoulders.

He half-turned his head to Fraser, wondering what to expect, wondering if he were nuts.

But the Mountie began expertly kneading his flesh. He was, in fact, so good at it that Ray was moaning with relief in a matter of seconds.

Now it seemed ludicrous that he had waited so long to let Fraser do this... when they could have been doing this all evening. Well, okay, maybe not... but he could have suffered a lot less if Fraser had done this earlier... and he could have kept himself in check, he thought, thinking the nasty thoughts to kill his desire.

But now he relaxed under the soothing touch... They were both under the hard spray of the water now, which, although soothing to Ray, was probably annoying to Fraser. Ray knew they should get out from directly under the spray. So...

They moved. As one. Mostly out of reach of the water's spray; it just sprayed their sides now.

Kowalski felt his muscles melting under Fraser's fingers... Ah. The Mountie's hands were moving, too, lower down to his mid back, and the small of his back and...

There it all stopped, and Fraser returned to his own shower spray.

Disappointed, Ray turned around to look at his partner, and the look on Fraser's face was unlike any he'd ever seen...

Sadness, yes, and what looked like longing or loneliness... but also pure lust, or hunger to be more accurate; yes, a hunger, and a softening, tender look about the mouth as Fraser looked at him... and Fraser's eyes... they were just too blue. True blue.

The haze of the hot baths, the steam room, the showers and now Fraser's aborted massage rendered Ray incapable of stopping himself. He moved towards Fraser slowly, deliberately... inevitably.

Fraser did not back away. He did not speak either.

Ray, having now thoroughly invaded his partner and friend's personal space, felt it could all end only one way... one way that would let him know where he stood, for sure, now and in the future.

It could all very well result in loss or irreparable damage to their relationship... but Ray didn't care about that. All that there was, was this moment... his hands, extending toward the Mountie, high up, high enough to reach the man's head...

High enough to take gentle hold of the Canadian's head by both cheeks, and then Ray pressed his lips against that soft, tender-looking mouth. If this was the only time he ever tasted it... well, he'd try to make the most of it before Fraser slugged him.

Their lips met... Ray's moved. The tip of his tongue passed along Fraser's lips. The Mountie did nothing... but he didn't pull away, either. Oh, well, he's not into it, Ray thought... fine, we'll just pretend later that this didn't happen. But right now, it is.

And the tip of his tongue slipped between Benton's lips and briefly touched the Mountie's tongue.

He still hadn't responded... which made Ray realize reluctantly -- though not yet with the full measure of humiliating embarrassment -- that the kiss had better be over, and soon, since Fraser was obviously not enjoying himself.

Just as he was drawing away, though, and opening his eyes again, he saw Fraser's arms opening to him, encircling him -- he felt them encircling him -- and in the blur of events that seemed to go sooooo slowly, and yet happen so quickly, he felt Fraser's lips on his own. He shut his eyes, hoping that if it was a dream, it would keep going and going and not stop.

Oh, God, Ray moaned, not caring if it was audible or not. Because now that the Mountie had done that, there was no going back. And there was no pretending this was not happening, and no future pretending that it hadn't happened and wasn't what it was...

So... go with it, Ray thought. Just go with it.

And he kissed his partner back with gusto, his arms crushed to his sides by Fraser's hug... and yet his mouth moving, their mouths moving, their lips meeting, their tongues exploring each other's mouths slowly and languidly... He freed his arms a bit and slid them around Fraser's waist, pulling the man as close to him as he possibly could. He couldn't believe it was happening and yet nothing in his life had felt righter than being crushed to Fraser in this big hug, in a very, very long time.

And then Ray felt it. His tumescent organ began to grow in length and width... and as it swelled between them, he realized with a shock that Fraser's own erect organ was already pressed up against him.

Oh, Lordy. What this man was doing to his mouth... Ray sighed into his partner's mouth as he devoured it. He was hungry for love, for lust, for just a roll in the hay -- for whatever Fraser wanted from him and probably many things Fraser didn't want from him. Ray hoped this was more than a roll in the hay to his partner... but even if it wasn't, he would take it... take whatever he could get. He admitted to himself that he might have to live on it, on the memory of it, for a long, lonely future time. It could very well be a one time only thing. But, God -- he hoped not.

The Mountie pulled his head and mouth back slowly. The warm water still sprayed both of them. Ray didn't want to open his eyes, but he did. Fraser's eyes were scant inches from his own and apparently just as surprised, hopeful, and scared. When they could both speak, they spoke at the same time.

"Ray, I--"

"Fraser--"

They both stopped. Fraser tilted his head sideways, but for once he seemed speechless. His hand slid up and down the water slick skin of Ray's back, feeling each rib slowly, then each vertebra. Ray shut his eyes, tightening his hold on the Mountie so that both their erections were ground against each other. It was hot between them, hotter than the hot water from the showers.

"Ray--" Fraser stammered.

"Yeah--" he answered breathlessly, before the Mountie could finish, keeping his eyes squeezed shut and the pressure against Fraser's pelvis.

"Did you want to--"

"Anything. Everything. Your station's comin' in loud and clear." He opened his eyes again, looked the Mountie in the eye, and leaned forward for another kiss.

Now it was slow and controlled even though he trembled with the effort not to ravish Fraser and he felt the Mountie also shiver in his arms. His hands went different ways... one slid up Fraser's wet, strong back, feeling each muscle, to the back of Fraser's head... to the short, soaked hair there. He ran his fingers through it.

His other hand slid down over Fraser's lower back, down to his buttock, squeezed it just once, and then squeezed it hard and pulled it sharply against him... The friction of his cock against Fraser's pubic hair was unbearable... and unbearably good. The Mountie's cock was hard and up against his own. Fraser's hands were on his buttocks now, kneading them slowly, as if he were learning each muscle by touch alone, and cataloguing the knowledge for future use. Knowing Fraser, that was exactly what he was doing, Ray thought, and the smile in his brain came out in his lips even as they couldn't hope to really smile, because they were thoroughly occupied with kissing, pursing, pressing against, and sucking Fraser's lips, mouth, and tongue.

The Mountie pulled slowly back again, and Ray's mouth closed upon air... disconcerting. He opened his eyes again.

"Ray, let's--"

"Not in the car."

"I didn't mean in the--"

"My house."

"I just meant--"

"Finish your shower," Ray said gruffly, pushing the Mountie away from him reluctantly.

But now that Fraser was standing a couple feet away, he could actually see his friend's hard cock.

He hadn't thought it possible that he could get any harder or more aroused... but now he was.

"Wait," he said thickly, as Fraser began to turn away, cock quivering as he moved. Ray grabbed the Mountie's sturdy forearm to turn him face to face again.

"Ray?" Fraser said uncertainly, blue eyes blinking unsteadily at him -- but Ray's hand slid down Fraser's forearm, down through his hand, his fingers momentarily intertwining with Fraser's on their way down... and then his hand slipped out of Fraser's fingers onto the Mountie's thigh, across that muscular, wet thigh -- the shower was making this a lot easier -- and Ray cupped Fraser's balls, then pressed his palm gently against them, slowly stroking his hand up between them, separating them slightly (causing Fraser to inhale sharply), up the shaft, to the head, the slippery head he now squeezed slowly, tightening his grasp until, had it been a grape, it would have burst-- and Fraser's sharply inhaled breath was suddenly expelled with a little "ooohhh".

"Like that," Ray said. It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

Nevertheless, the Mountie nodded.

With his other hand, Ray grabbed Fraser's clenching and unclenching right hand, and brought it to his own erect cock, all the while looking Fraser in the eye, trying to see in his partner's face if any of this was unwelcome, if any of it was too much, if any of it would make them sorry tomorrow...

But, other than a slightly dazed, sweet expression, Fraser's face said only that it was right, so right, right as rain...

And it was even righter when the Mountie's hand closed on his own organ and they slowly jacked each other, getting used to the feel of each other. Ray wasn't sure what would have been more erotic -- not watching Fraser and doing it all by touch, or watching and touching, as they were. The little muscular twitches, the tightening or pursing of Fraser's lips, the occasional squint or slitting of his eyes... all these told Ray what Fraser thought felt good, felt really good, felt sublime, would lead to an explosion of pleasure... Ray rubbed his thumb all around the head, slippery with pre-ejaculate, and Fraser moaned, though he scarcely moved his mouth -- but it was a moan, nevertheless, a moan of a timbre and vibration that further excited Ray -- that made him think he wanted to keep pulling this moan from Fraser, again and again, over and over-- he felt the shaking in Fraser's knees come up through his pelvis, his cock--

"Ray," came Fraser's hoarse whisper.

"Wha..."

"Perhaps... mmmmm... perhaps... this isn't... uuhhhhh... isn't the best place..."

"No one's here but us..."

"Yes, but..."

"You don't want anyone coming..."

"Right, and..."

"It's not very private..."

"Yes... mmmph..."

"Here," he said, letting go Fraser's cock. It bobbed free and he could have sworn Fraser whimpered at the loss of sensation. He grabbed the Mountie's elbow and Fraser docilely let himself be pulled farther through the showers. Had there been anyone around to see them, the thought briefly occurred to Ray, it would have been a funny sight: two grown men walking with bobbing erections, farther into the showers.

"These are private," Ray said, as they turned a corner into a small tiled area with individual tiled showers, each with an industrial-strength plain vinyl curtain. He tore aside the curtain with a trembling hand and without any encouragement from him, Fraser stepped into the stall. Ray turned and pulled the curtain shut -- making sure there was no tell tale crack of light at either side.

It wasn't large, but there was room enough for two men to stand, or for one to stand and the other to bend at the waist, Fraser found himself thinking -- which made him blush, except that then it occurred to him to wonder just who had designed these individual showers, and just what they had designed them for... There was a little bench on each side, with metal hooks embedded in the walls above them, a shower nozzle on the wall opposite the curtain, and hot and cold water knobs underneath that. To their left was a liquid soap dispenser.

Ray reached around Fraser, purposely jutting his pelvis at Fraser's so their cocks would touch. He turned the hot water on full blast. They both gasped as the cold water that had been sitting in the pipes momentarily drenched them. The shock caused both their cocks to wilt. But then the hot water came on strong, and very hot -- steaming hot -- and Ray angled the shower nozzle more directly down rather than down and outward, so that they could stand in the center of the little tiled individual shower and not be completely under the spray. So they could feel each other's cocks, as they were now; so they could grind their cocks together as they were now, with the water only the side dish, not the main course.

Fraser found himself feeling increasingly wild and daring. He pushed Ray a few inches away from him, which got him an inquisitive glance, until he closed his fist around Ray's cock again. Then the detective raised his arms, bracing his hands against the tiled walls above the benches on either side. He'd let the Canadian do what he wanted.

And so what Fraser did was stroke Ray's shaft, hard and fast, with one hand. With the other he handled Ray's balls, stroking them, squeezing them just so, capturing them and pulling them just slightly away from his body, when they so wanted to tighten up with excitement. Ray threw his head back, surprised and amazed that 1. Fraser was so erotic and B. Fraser was so good at this, although that shouldn't have surprised him, since Fraser was good at everything.

But Ray could only take so much of this before his knees were quivering so much, they wanted to give out. Practically the only thing holding him up were his braced hands and arms. So he nuzzled his face into Fraser's neck and licked the Mountie, ha, there, someone was licking, and it wasn't Fraser... Fraser's hands slipped off Ray's genitals and slid around his waist, slid up and down Ray's back in strong, tight strokes, pulling them close together. They kissed again and then Ray abruptly sat down on the bench before his knees gave out. Whew. Good thing he'd remembered about these stalls.

And there was Fraser's hot, hard cock, right in front of him. The foreskin had pulled back from the head, maybe as they'd jacked each other. And, Hey, how about that, it was at the perfect height for Ray to suck it from his sitting position... and so that was what he did. The water sprayed on one side of his body as he sucked the head into his mouth and was rewarded with a jump and inhalation from Fraser as he had never heard. So he pulled his mouth back and did it again, and the Mountie moaned, and so he did it again, and Fraser's moan was excruciating. Those Mountie hands came down to push Ray's shoulders back a bit -- okay, okay, don't wanna cum too soon, right, Ray thought... and went to work.

He had never done this before but he knew what he liked. Hopefully, what he remembered from women doing this to him, he was now doing to Fraser. But whether or not he was successfully remembering and replicating their technique didn't seem to matter, as Fraser was now whispering incoherently to himself, his hands tightening and loosening and tightening again in Ray's wet, tangled hair, as Ray's head moved up and down--

And then Ray realized he was hearing this weird keening sound, and Fraser's balls were tight and high, and -- oh, that's Fraser makin' that weird sound -- blammo, the first hot gush hit the back of Ray's throat and he swallowed convulsively. Then for some moments Ray was trying to figure out how to swallow, breathe, and stroke his mouth up and down, while he drained his partner's cock of each remaining jet of cum, swallowing it all (not without a sense of pride at having done so well for his first time).

And then Fraser's hands were not in his hair anymore, but on his cheek and under his chin and trying to pry him off. Oh yeah, he's probably kinda sensitive now... Ray stopped, and leaned back against the cool, wet tile. He took a gusty, deep breath, and opened his eyes. He looked up at Fraser. The Mountie's face was serene. He wasn't exactly smiling and yet he was somehow beaming or glowing. He still looked surprised, but it was tempered with a tenderness and, for some reason, a wistful undercurrent... as if he were sorry it had all happened so fast. He regarded Ray a moment, stroking the detective's cheek with his hand...

And then he swiftly bent and his mouth was on Ray's and Ray was suddenly being ravished, his mouth plundered, his organs manipulated. Fraser urged him up off the bench to stand, and turned him around so he faced the bench where he had been sitting. And then the hot mouth and tongue which had just been violently probing his own was sliding down his jawline, down his neck, kisses being pressed across his chest, a little nip -- whoa -- there on one nipple, a little tooth-scrape -- mmmm -- on the other nipple. And the mouth was moving down, and down, and Ray's hands slid up Fraser's body as the Mountie sat down on the bench. Finally his hands were on Fraser's ears, just kind of holding the Mountie's jaw...

Ray decided not to do that, to move his hands to stroke Fraser's slick, short hair -- and, damn, if that water wasn't still hot, and wasn't still coursing down one side of his body...

But then Fraser did something Ray hadn't expected at all. Right before sliding his mouth from Ray's navel to the place where Ray most wanted Fraser's mouth to be, the Mountie stopped for a moment. And then he grabbed Ray by the buttocks and pulled the detective's pelvis to him. He leaned back against the wall, and pulled Ray's pelvis closer -- which required Ray to pick up one foot so he could rest one knee on the bench, next to Fraser's thigh. Now he straddled the Mountie's lap, his legs spread, standing over Fraser's thighs. Fraser's knees were between Ray's standing knee and the knee that rested on the bench.

Ray felt a bit exposed, his balls dangling over the Mountie's thighs, but this was apparently what Fraser wanted, because just then his mouth engulfed Ray's cock from the head to the root, in one fell swoop. A strangled gasp of pleasure escaped Ray's lips. He braced his hands against the cool tile of the wall behind Fraser. His right hand found the hook in the wall and gripped it, as if to anchor himself.

The Mountie was driving him nuts, now -- sucking hard, with long strong motion, holding him by the hips, making him thrust into his mouth, into the back of his throat. Ray hardly knew what he was doing before he realized he was doing just that, fucking Fraser's mouth... thrusting into it again and again. It was so good, it wouldn't be long now. The water drummed on his side, but by now he wasn't paying much attention to it. It was the sensual equivalent of white noise.

And then one of those hands gripping his hip slid down his thigh. Fraser put it between his legs, and moved it up behind Ray's buttocks, to stroke one long, strong stroke from where his tailbone met his spine, downward. The Mountie's hand stroked over the cleft of Ray's buttocks, the tight little ring of muscle, the firm flesh behind his balls where his cock really began, and between his tightening balls--

That was it: Ray was over the edge, a guttural moan rushing from him. His hips bucked, thrusting in rhythm with the spurts of semen. He hoped he wasn't banging Fraser's head into the tile repeatedly, but the Mountie had control of his hips and the depth of his thrusts, so he hoped Fraser was smart enough to prevent that. Now Ray really was holding onto the hook in his right hand as an anchor -- his left hand slid all over the wet wall as he tried to hang on while thrusting and losing his mind. The tightening and loosening at the head of his cock was Fraser swallowing repeatedly... taking it all.

When Ray could do nothing more than twitch and clench involuntarily, he realized he was practically whimpering. His shaking leg was about to collapse. He withdrew his softening cock from Fraser's mouth and sat down -- though it felt more like "melted" or "fell backward" -- on the little bench across from the Mountie, and closed his eyes.

The hot water drummed down on the empty tile between them, directly under the nozzle, wetting only their feet. Ray just tried to breathe normally.

When his breath had slowed to a normal rate, Ray opened his eyes. Fraser was idly sticking his feet in the spray. The Mountie glanced at him then, and their eyes met. It was dim in the shower, with the high walls and the curtain blocking out much of the light. But there was enough light to see Fraser's face and expression.

Ray smiled weakly, hoping that everything between them wasn't utterly ruined. This seemed like a time to be careful about what they said, and yet he couldn't think of anything to say, except useless things like "Wow" and "I didn't know you could do that well, too". So he said nothing.

Fraser's expression lightened with a smile and glancing away. Had it not been the Mountie, Ray would have thought it flirtatious. But with Fraser it was probably exactly what it seemed like: shyness. He wiggled his toes in the spray hitting the tiled floor, and glanced back at Ray.

This moment seemed so fragile to Ray... and yet he could think of nothing appropriate or meaningful to say or do. He propped a foot up on the bench, relaxing, trying to figure out 1. What the hell they'd just done and B. What was gonna happen next.

Of course, now that he was sitting with one foot on the floor, and one up on the bench, his leg bent double, his crotch was wide open. And he saw Fraser's gaze automatically slide down his body to there, and then jerk back up... and the predictable blush and look-away. Ray opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it.

He was burning with questions but unsure how to ask them delicately -- or if they should be asked at all. 'How long have you been wanting to do that?' 'Where the hell did you learn to give head like that?' 'Was this more than just getting off for you?' 'What now?' and, most importantly, 'Will you please come home with me? Tonight and every night?' But since Ray couldn't figure out how to phrase these questions in just the right way, and he was sure that his entire future depended on getting the next fifteen minutes right, he gritted his teeth and wracked his brain for something non inane and not off-putting to say.

When all he really wanted to say was, 'Can we do this for the rest of our lives?'

Fraser was more than a bit disoriented. Not unpleasantly -- though he had initially considered the possibility that it hadn't been merely Green tea. But then he had to dismiss that thought. Because, on closer examination of himself -- which he generally avoided if at all possible -- he had to admit that everything had transpired exactly as he would have wanted, if he'd ever permitted himself to fantasize so wildly. And so that gave the entire experience a certain edge of... intentionality, not spontaneity or accident. And he really wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He was sure how he felt about Ray, though. He was sure that he wanted to do this again -- though preferably somewhere much, much cooler and much, much drier.

He was sure that from this point forward he would not be able to live without Ray. Consequently, he was terrified. But he had to admit it was an especially delightful terror, even if it had rendered him speechless for the moment. Delightful, he guessed, in the anticipation it bred.

He was also sure this was about the worst, most perverse, reckless and irrational thing he had done, except for some acts he would rather not recall involving a dark-haired woman from Alaska.

He was also sure that he would never regret any of today's acts; that he would, in fact, if possible, commit them again and again for his pleasure or for Ray's, or for their mutual pleasure.

And Fraser was certain that Dief was probably going to give him a look of 'Well, now you've gone and done it' when he finally got back to the Consulate. He watched Ray shift his body, putting one foot up on the bench, and then felt his face color because he couldn't refrain from gazing at what he had, very recently, smelled, tasted, taken into his body. And knew he wanted to smell, taste, and take in -- again. And again.

And Ray didn't speak. Why didn't he speak? Fraser wanted to say something, but words wouldn't come. He looked away, then looked back at Ray -- at his face, not other parts -- and felt helpless to speak. If Ray didn't say something soon -- well, he had an irrational thought that he'd be forever imprisoned in silence with Ray. It was silly. And yet he couldn't shake the feeling that if anything were going to be said, Ray should say it. He didn't trust himself. Didn't trust his voice. Oh, all right -- didn't trust his judgement. He wouldn't know if this had all been a bad or good idea until Ray said so, one way or the other.

And Ray didn't look too certain himself.

Fraser wiggled his toes in the water from the shower. He sighed inaudibly.

Suddenly Ray couldn't take it anymore. He put both feet on the floor and stood up. Fraser looked up at him, seeming a bit startled, and moved his feet out of the way. Ray stepped under the spray, wet himself thoroughly, and then squeezed some of the industrial soap into his hand from the dispenser. He stepped out of the spray, soaped his body all over, and then stopped.

Fraser was looking at him, and saying nothing. There was something awfully still about his face. Ray silently prayed that this evening hadn't completely ruined their friendship and partnership forever. But he was at a loss for what to say, what to do. He stopped for a moment, hands on his skinny hips.

Fraser. Fraser's sitting there. Like he doesn't know what to do or say. Okay, so I don't know what to do or say either. I'm not sorry it happened, dammit. Even if it never happens again. I don't want him to feel bad about it. I don't wanna feel bad about it -- I feel good. Even if it's the first and last time it happens. Okay. Okay.

He stepped back under the spray, rinsing his body, swiftly sliding his hands over everything to help get the soapy film off.

Then he stepped out of the spray, and gestured at Fraser.

The Mountie looked at him questioningly.

Oh, for Pete's sake. They had to get outta here, Ray thought. Without thinking, he stepped forward and grabbed Fraser's forearm again, tugging.

Fraser gave him a curious look, but then stood up.

Ray gently pushed him under the cascading water. He squeezed some soap into both hands, and then gestured for Fraser to step forward, out of the water.

Fraser looked at him oddly, but complied.

Ray put a hand on the Mountie's chest, shyly glancing at Fraser's face, and then looking back down, at what he was doing.

He soaped Fraser's chest, his shoulders, his neck, his waist... he didn't go any further for now, just pushed Fraser gently to get him to turn around.

The Mountie was being oddly docile. He turned around, looking down at the floor. Ray soaped his back.

He hesitated, thinking, well, I've gone this far...

He squeezed some more soap into his hands and tentatively cupped Fraser's buttocks. Of course Fraser didn't move toward him or move away. Yeah, Ray thought, I'm gonna have to do this all by myself, aren't I. The Mountie wasn't gonna let on what the hell was going on in that brainiac Canadian head of his... so it was up to Ray to do everything. Funny. You'd think if Frase was gonna be like this now, he'd be more like that in other areas. But he wasn't at all... in other areas, he always wanted to take the lead. But in this... he didn't protest not being in charge. He just accepted it.

Oh, well. He'd certainly done more than his, uh, fair share not long ago, Ray reflected.

He smeared the soap over Fraser's buttocks and the backs of his thighs. After a moment's hesitation, he slipped a soapy hand into the cleft of the Mountie's buttocks and roughly stroked Fraser from that tiny hole to behind his balls and back. Fraser had to part his legs more to permit this... but he did so without protest or resistance... Ray blushed furiously, thinking what the future might -- might -- hold, if Fraser didn't freak out -- and if he didn't freak out either.

But for now, this was just simple cleaning. Right?

One last rough stroke -- no fingers, no probing, Ray silently lamented -- and he was now turning Fraser around.

The Mountie's eyes were shut. He just let Ray manipulate him.

Okay, fine. Ray got more soap and lathered it on Fraser's lower belly, making sure to get his "innie" navel, and moving down to thoroughly clean his cock with rough strokes, and more gently soaping Fraser's balls. Fraser didn't move but his cock began to harden. He didn't open his eyes, though.

Ray hastily moved on, stroking soap down Fraser's thighs, the backs of his knees. He knelt, soaping the Mountie's legs.

He wasn't gonna do his feet, Ray decided. If he wanted his feet cleaned, Fraser was gonna have to do it. There were limits...

He pushed Fraser backward, under the flowing water. He slid his hands all over his partner's body, helping the water sluice the soap off. By this time he was completely wet and kind of soapy again himself. So he pushed in right next to Fraser to get some water himself. To get the soap off his body, too. Fraser didn't move, but he didn't look like he felt crowded.

Ray squeezed some more soap out of the dispenser, lathered it and shut his eyes. He washed his face and his ears and behind his ears, before he forgot. Then he shoved his face under the spray again, making sure he got all the soap off before pulling back and opening his eyes.

He'd felt Fraser move away, but the Mountie was only getting some soap of his own, and washing his own face. And then his feet. Ray smiled.

Since Frase was still soaping, Ray stepped under the spray again, turning the water on harder. He liked it pounding on him. He'd never felt a waterfall falling on him, but he liked to imagine it. Fraser probably knew what it felt like. Well, so what. Here was Ray's waterfall.

With his eyes shut, he didn't see Fraser step closer. But he felt it; the body heat and nearness registered. He opened his eyes just as Fraser's soapy hand and forearm were stealing about his waist. The Mountie pressed up against him, sliding his other arm around Ray. He pressed his chest against Ray's back.

But he didn't push, he didn't grind, he didn't thrust. He just held onto Ray and let the water beat down on him as well.

Things, thought Ray, are probably gonna be okay. No, more than okay. Good. Great. Incredible. He slid his hands over the muscles of Fraser's encircling arms, then twisted within the Mountie's loose hug so they were face to face --- and threw his own arms around Fraser with relief, resting his head alongside Fraser's.

He felt one shudder of Fraser's body. The poor guy had probably never been so waterlogged in his life, Ray thought to himself with a smile. The stubble on his cheek scraped against the tiniest touch of stubble on Fraser's as Ray pulled back from the hug.

They looked each other in the eye, and Fraser saw that all of it was all right with Ray. More than all right -- a certain sparkle and mischief in the blond detective's eyes virtually guaranteed that they'd be doing this again some time. Very soon... and very often, Fraser hoped.

Ray's hand cupped his jaw, and a certain softening of his expression as he looked at Fraser's mouth and then back at his eyes, made Fraser's heart leap. He felt Ray's thumb slip over his lips, and then Ray leaned in for a light kiss -- he pressed his lips against Fraser's. A close-mouthed, chaste kiss.

Which lingered.










end