by Erika
Fuck! I've had it. I have to get out of here.
Ray paced inside the hotel room he had shared with Fraser for the past two
days feeling the walls crowd in on him. He moved to the window and looked
outside. More white stuff. Would it ever end? At the rate it was coming
down they would probably find his frozen stiff body come spring.
God, he can't do this but he had to. Had no choice. He was tired. So fuckin'
tired. They were midway through their expedition but they might as well
never have left Chicago. Never left at all.
He had thought maybe ya know. Ray threw himself on the bed. He raised his
arms to cover his eyes. He was such an idiot. Such an idiot. Damn. He was
not going to do this. Not again. He was not going to stay here and wallow.
He had done enough of that with Stella. He refused to do it again with
Fraser. Okay so Frase didn't want him. Took him long enough to accept that.
God he had hoped... hell they'd been travelling together for the past three
months, sharing a sleeping bag and all, and nothing had changed between
them. Nothing.
He had tried. He had truly tried but how do you move a mountain? How do you
swim against the tide? How? Ray moved away from the bed and headed towards
the wooden box that contained his things. He opened it and took out his
backpack. There wasn't much. It was not like he had come prepared for this
expedition. In fact, they had ended up buying most of their supplies along
the way. Simple t-shirts, two good sweaters, underwear, briefs, socks,
scarves, gloves. Nothing fancy. Nothing really to tie Ray to this
adventure, nothing to look back on, not a picture in sight.
It was better this way, he tried to reassure himself. It'd be easier to
leave. Easier to move forward if he didn't constantly have to look back. If
he had nothing to remind him. Nothing except his memories of Fraser's body
against his.
Snap out of, Kowalski, get your stuff and get the hell out.
Ray got his things and dropped them on the bed. He folded them haphazardly,
making sure everything fitted inside the bag.
Okay, he could do this. He went over to the door, grabbed his parka and
left the hotel room.
Ray made his way to the airport only to be told that the snowstorm that had
stranded Fraser and him in the city for the past two days was still growing
strong.
Shit! Fuckin' snow.
He bought a ticket just in case and the teller gave him a phone number to
call for information should the weather conditions change. Not bloody
likely, he thought miserably. It had been like this for the past four days.
Actually the storm was one of the reasons they were staying in Yellowknife,
the big metropolis of the north, before they headed off to Ft. Simpson and
then Norman Wells. Final destination Inuvik.
At least that had been the plan before Ray bailed out. He went back to the
hotel room, dropped his bags on the floor and plunked down on the chair. He
hated this.
He'd hoped to be gone before Fraser came back from his little get together
with his buddies. A room full of Mounties, just the thought made Ray
shudder.
Ray knew he wasn't being fair. It wasn't Fraser's fault that he wanted more
than the mountie was prepared to give him. He ran his hand threw his hair
sending it into further disarray. Shit. He was so close. At one time he
actually convinced himself that Fraser cared for him. Truly cared for him.
Not like a buddy. No definitely not. It was more than that. Much more. But
he had been kidding himself. Oh yeah, Fraser cared for him just like he
cared for Diefenbaker. No more nor less. Just the same.
Things between them had really started to unravel four days ago as they left
Maggie and made their way to Yellowknife. Ray had been quite content to
stay at Maggie's, his body still recovering from the fall he took a week
earlier. At that time they had been caught in a snowstorm, Fraser had lost
control of the sled and Ray ended up taking most of the brunt from their
mishap. They had arrived at Maggie's just in time to seek medical attention
for the accident that left Ray with stiff muscles, a sore wrist, a bruised
jaw and a sprained ankle. It looked far worse than it actually was and Ray
had minimized the pain knowing that Fraser was feeling guilty and was having
a hard time dealing with it.
Okay so after the fall they were still buds, still freaks and Ray was still
mooning after Fraser like a lovesick puppy but see he could get that, he was
all over that, knew that wasn't the problem. No the problem was Fraser.
Fraser who was making out like he was a burden not a partner. Fraser who
started to get snappy at him, well more so than usual.
But even then he would have accepted it. Forgive the guy anything. God he so
wanted Fraser to touch him and he was pretty sure Fraser was thinking about
it. At least that was what he thought from all those looks Fraser was giving
him but he was so fuckin' wrong. His instincts had failed him. Totally. No
the problem wasn't whether Fraser was interested in guys but that Fraser
wasn't interested in him.
While at Maggie's he had heard Fraser talk with Vecchio and when he had
later asked him if there had been any messages or phone calls the mountie
had actually lied to him. Lied to his face. He let it go, thinking maybe
Fraser felt guilty going on this expedition while Vecchio was still
recovering from his gunshot wound, but no, after that things changed.
Fraser started avoided him, and he started having these talks with Maggie
when he thought Ray was out of hearing range.
Even Dief wouldn't come over and lick his face. I mean you knew things were
bad when even the wolf didn't want to play pals.
So here he was, injured body and soul when Fraser came up with this bright
idea that they should continue on with the 'Franklin thing.'
He would have got over it. Truly would have. I mean once a guy throws you
out of a plane with no parachute you learn to get over things but see Fraser
made a mistake, once they got to Yellowknife, he called Vecchio. Throughout
those two days, making their way to the metropolis of the North, Fraser had
seemed worried, preoccupied. He hadn't even noticed that Ray was having a
hard time keeping up with him. But like a moron Ray just kept on forgiving
the guy, that is until that day when they visited the RCMP headquarters and
one of the first things Fraser does, aside from leaving him with a group of
baby mounties, is call Vecchio.
Vecchio. Always Vecchio.
That was all it took. Ray saw the writing on the wall.
It was not like he could ignore it anymore, he had to face facts. Fraser
wanted Vecchio, not Kowalski but Vecchio. He laughed bitterly. He should
have known. What would anyone want with a flat foot like him?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
So here he was, feeling miserable, abandoned by both Fraser and his trusted
companion.
Fuck them, I am not going to waste my time here.
Ray moved to the door and shut it behind him.
How the hell do I get these assignments? Victor thought as he looked around
the hotel bar. Damn but that was the last time he let Ramsey talk him into
playing hooky. Nothing was worth this, a visit to this cold desolate area.
Okay, as far as Northern towns were concerned Yellowknife wasn't that bad.
He's actually visited more isolated places. Unfortunately the assignment
hadn't been in Yellowknife but instead thousand of miles away in
Tuktoyaktuk.
They had actually travelled there by plane, Yellowknife being just a
stopover but suddenly the weather had changed and they had been stuck here
for the past two days. It wasn't so much the cold but the snow that was
making it impossible for flights to get in or out of the city.
The down time wouldn't have been that bad if it weren't for Mac and his
antics. His trip in New York had helped him control his growing attraction
to his male partner. Indeed, his time spend with Baldwin Jones, the New
York detective, had eased the sexual frustration within Victor. Those four
days spend with Jones had allowed Victor to focus on what he truly wanted...
a relationship, comradeship, things he could not get with Mac.
Anyway it was not like Ramsey was even interested. So here he was hiding
from Mac, spending some time away from the other man, trying to ignore the
part of him that wanted to reach out and claim the younger man.
He kept drinking his pop, staying away from the strong stuff, staying away
from anything that might loosen the controls he had set up for himself. He
was so busy feeling miserable that at first he failed to notice the stranger
who entered the bar. If they hadn't both reached out to the potato chip
bowl at the same time Victor would have probably not noticed him at all.
He was young. At least he appeared so to Victor. He looked tired, worn down
though.
"Sorry," Victor told him.
"No prob," the man assured him.
"That weather huh."
"Yeah. Is it always like this?" the stranger asked him.
"I wouldn't know. I'm not actually from around here." Victor turned to look
around the empty bar and then cursed when he saw Mac approaching them.
"Shit."
The stranger turned around to see who was coming up behind them. "Friend of
yours?"
"Partner." Victor realized his mistake when the other man raised an
eyebrow. "Not that kind of partner."
"Oh one of those." The man's gaze turned inward. It seemed to Victor like
he knew what he was saying.
"Mansfield." Mac called to him.
"What do you want Ramsey?" He really did not want to deal with this. Victor
could feel the back of his head starting to pound and the headache that had
left him a few hours ago return.
"Who's your buddy here?" Kid had never developed tact, Victor thought.
"Kowalski." The man answered back with a hint of a dare behind his words.
"Look we're kind of in the middle of something, do you mind?"
Mac stared at the man in shock, his mouth hanging open. He turned to Victor
a question forming but never leaving his lips. Ramsey seemed to shake
himself free from whatever he was feeling and went to stand between Victor
and the stranger.
"Yeah, sure," he said sarcastically. "Look we have to go, come on, Vic"
Mac might as well have put a leash on him the way he was acting and Victor
refused to be at the end of that leash but just in case. "The Director
called?"
"Huh?" Mac gave him a dumbfounded look.
That answered his question. "Look, Mac, as you can see I'm actually pretty
busy here. I'll talk to you later." He turned around and presented his back
to him. Victor felt lousy doing this but maybe it was time Mac learned
Victor was expanding his horizons.
"Vic?" Mac asked him.
Ignoring Mac, Victor turned to the man sitting beside him. "Want to go
upstairs?" He heard Mac's shocked gasp and forced himself to sit still.
"Yeah sure." Kowalski followed Vic out the bar. As they opened the door
separating the bar from the hotel he asked, "You sure about this?"
"No. Look I just..." Victor took a deep breath feeling the tension leave
his body. "Need a break from all of this and..."
"You needed a way out. Some down time so you can get in touch with your
inner karma, do the ying-yang thing." Kowalski finished for him. "Join the
club." They entered the hotel lobby.
"You don't have to come up," Vic tried to reassure the man. "Look I don't
even know your name."
"Ray Kowalski." The man offered his hand.
"Victor Mansfield." Their hands shook and then Vic felt the man beside him
go pale and start cursing under his breath.
"Shit."
"What?"
"It's Fraser. You owe me right?" Not waiting for Victor to answer the
question, Ray continued, "Play along. Come on. We have to get out of here
before he sees me."
They were still holding hands and Kowalski tugged, pulling Victor towards
the elevator. Victor felt something wet hit his hand and looked down to see
a dog or was it a wolf, come up beside him.
"Dief. Go away. Go on back to Fraser. I'll give you a donut if you do. No I
don't have one with me now, I'll give it to you later."
Victor who had been following this strange conversation saw the man
clutching his hand sway a bit. He reached over to steady him.
"My life is doomed. I'm talking to the wolf. Don't get snappy with me," Ray
told Dief, "you're not the one whose life is falling apart. Oh god, I did it
again. I think I need to lie down."
Victor couldn't help but laugh. To an outside observer this was quite an
intimate scene they were both displaying. For two people in particular,
Fraser and Mac, watching in the sidelines, one feeling his heart break and
the other not understanding the confusion he was experiencing, this scene
was one they would not forget in a long time. The elevator's door opened and
they both hurriedly got in, leaving behind them a sulking wolf and two hurt
partners.
"...so let me get this straight," Kowalski asked him for the nineteenth
time, "this Nathan guy thinks you're a Russian prince and your boss is a
tyrannical Queen Bee?"
"Yes." Victor was beginning to wonder why he had shared that particular
story.
"And you actually convinced him to stand on the sidewalk, holding a pumpkin,
waiting for the mother ship?"
"Yes."
"Hmm."
"What?"
"I wonder if he is related to Turnball?"
"Who?"
"Nathan in a mountie suit." Seeing Victor's sceptical expression Ray
explained. "I'm not kidding. He thinks Fraser is God. Fraser told me that
himself and Fraser wouldn't lie." Ray's expression darkened. "Never mind."
They were both lying on the bed staring at the ceiling.
"So what is a Chicago cop doing all the way up here in the Arctic North?"
Victor asked, hoping to distract Ray from further questions.
"Don't want to talk about it."
"You sure? You seem to have some issues here."
"And you don't?" Checkmate. Victor backed away.
Ray sighed and turned to face Vic. "It's complicated. Let's just say that I
thought there'd be more in the relationship. More than just friendship."
Victor found himself reaching out and touching Ray's cheek, feeling its
smoothness. Green eyes met blue, a question was asked and answered. They
both moved.
Their lips touched as they sought reassurance in each other's bodies.
Ray moaned when Victor's hand travelled down his chest tugging away at his
sweater. He shivered at first when hands first touched his skin and then
arched into the hands as they moved toward his nipples.
Ray's own hands made their way along Victor's back, cupping his ass and
pulling it toward him. Both of them moved in unison, their moans rising in
volume as they continued to thrust against each other.
"Wait. Wait." Ray told him in between kisses. They had to get their clothes
off. They had to get their clothes off. Think, Kowalski. Think. He tugged
at Victor's jeans and started to undress the guy. Victor finally got the
hint and started to disrobe. Shirts, socks, pants flew in every direction as
they quickly got rid of their clothing, seeking each other's lips when naked
skin finally touched naked skin.
As he crouched on the bed Ray could hear someone screaming, "Vic!" He wasn't
sure who it was and didn't care, since all he wanted was to push his ass
back into those clever hands. One of Victor's hands was massaging Ray's sac
while the other was slowly teasing his entrance. Ray pushed back feeling
those fingers entering him. His body trembled, a groan escaped him, and he
wiggled his ass trying to entice Victor into replacing those fingers with
something much harder, bigger more ruthless.
"Please." His voice was heavy and slightly hoarse, he did not know how much
more of this he could stand.
Ray moaned aloud when Victor withdrew his fingers and placed his cock head
just at the entrance of his body. Victor deliberately took his time,
enjoying the sensation of his flesh penetrating the other man, enjoying the
way Ray seemed to be a perfect fit for him. A perfect match. Their bodies
were so closely joined that he did not know where he ended and the other man
began.
"Ray," Victor moaned. He plunged all the way in before withdrawing to
repeat the action.
The other man's answering cries were all he needed to start pounding harder,
faster, changing his angle of entry, deepening it, so that every time he
went in his cock stroked across the place that made Ray shiver.
His other hand played with Ray's cock. Hearing the cop's whimpers he knew he
was being successful in driving him wild.
The American pushed back, meeting Vic's pace and then they both felt it as
their bodies started to shudder and Victor could no longer control the
tempo, the rhythm, until finally it became erratic, both seeking that state
where they could climax together. Vic lost control and he shot inside Ray.
Vic's hand slightly squeezed Ray's cock and the cop cried out spilling his
own semen on Victor's hand. They both lay there, one on top of each other,
still joined, unable to move.
It took Victor a few minutes before he was finally able to withdraw from the
pliant body underneath him. He reached out and took the edge of the blanket,
cleaning them both. He then gathered Ray in his arms, closed his eyes and
let his body relax, rest. They both fell asleep with Vic's arm around Ray's
back and the cop's hand resting just above the Canadian's heart.
Yellowknife: Hand of Franklin Expedition
now. Fuckin' snow. All day snow.
