Author's Website: http://trinity.slashcity.net

Disclaimer: dueSouth belongs to Alliance

Author's Notes: Huge thanks to Robin and M.Fae for their betas and suggestions.

Story Notes:

Damn kids.

We're sittin' here, trying to enjoy a movie, and a couple of kids who should be suffering through algebra, sleeping through English, or smoking in the bathroom plop themselves in front of us and start slobbering all over each other.

Not that I'm a prude; I once told Fraser I'd try anything, and I meant that. I want to try a lot of stuff. With him.

He'd be game too. I think. Well, I'm pretty sure. I see the way he looks at me, the way he lets me touch him, the way he walks around my apartment like he owns it. He wears that serge almost every day, and it covers up a lot of lumps and bumps and other embarrassing things. But apparently those jodhpurs aren't quite loose enough in the right places, 'cause every once in a while I catch him adjusting himself. More than every once in a while. A lot.

Yeah. Like now.

Me - don't have anything like that serge, nothing I can wear indoors that'll cover up how I feel for him. So I've taken to wearing loose jeans. That extra room comes in handy. A lot.

Like now.

Going to the movies was the Ice Queen's idea. Good idea, but she wanted to see that artsy flick, Burning Down the House - two men fall in love when a fire forces them to move in together. Nuh-uh. No way am I gonna watch that movie sitting next to Fraser, not with Thatcher and Turnbull watching. Maybe I'll see it when I'm out of town where no one knows me and I can jerk off in a motel room later.

So I trump her choice and pick this stupid movie about aliens and robots and explosions. Fast, loud, and distracting.

Not distracting enough.

I'm sitting next to Fraser, trying to keep my eyes on the screen and not on that creamy white neck I'd like to be... necking. And away from that mouth of his too, before I start thinking about his lips and what I want them doing. And which bits of me I want them doing things to.

Our hands are at our sides - he's too polite to use the armrest - and they're like, less than an inch apart. I could touch him if I twitched. With a single twist of the wrist we could be holding hands.

But we're not. We can't even talk about this thing between us because we're cops and cops can't be queer, and they can't hold hands in a theatre, and they sure as hell can't be caught making out in public.

Fraser's not helping things, either. He keeps leaning over and asking about some character or talking about a weird plot point, and his hot breath in my ear just makes my dick twitch. I try to answer him fast and quiet, no touching.

I keep it under control for most of the movie, but finally I gotta move. The Ice Queen notices I'm adjusting myself - she's sitting on my left - and rolls her eyes and looks away. Probably thinks I'm squirming for her. Yeah, she'd be squirming if she knew who I was thinking about.

Fraser notices too, I think, but he doesn't turn away. No, he keeps looking, and now he's gotta adjust himself, and that just makes me harder, 'cause I know why.

Hope I can settle down before I have to stand up.

Fraser leans toward me again, and I wonder what the hell he's gonna say, and I'm hoping it's something about the dumb movie so I can get my mind off of getting in his pants.

"Ray?" Ray, that's all he says, and I turn toward his face, and he's so fucking close I can feel the heat from his skin. I inhale and almost start shaking. God he smells good.

He brings up his right hand between his mouth and my ear, like people do when they're whispering, and he reaches out a little and brushes my cheek with his fingers. "Ray." Not a question this time, just a whisper. I hope no one else is paying attention, 'cause between that seductive voice and his fingers on my face, I almost come right then and there.

We stay close for a couple of seconds before he takes his hand away and sits back in his seat.

Fuck. I try to watch the movie, but I see those kids in front of us again. It ain't fair. He was probably making out with some other girl last week and she'll probably be making out with some other guy next week, but no one says a goddamn thing about 'em.

But me and Fraser - nada. Want him, love him, can't even hold his hand.

His hand. Yeah, there it is again, just an inch away. Want to hold it. Wanna tell him I love him. Nuh uh, not gonna happen, not in this lifetime. But... I can't help myself... I move my hand just a little, until my knuckles are brushing against the back of his hand. Damn, his skin is soft. I stop, because even this is too much, if we get caught.

Hope he didn't mind... no, he didn't because now I feel the back of his hand brushing - almost caressing - mine. Yeah, that feels good. Want more.

But I don't get more, 'cause the movie's almost over and we both gotta get up soon. Takes a little while before I can calm down, just enough to not embarrass myself, but anyone looking at me could see I was dressing left. Lucky me, most people aren't that rude.

I walk next to Fraser, close as I can, and even brush up against him a couple times. Hope no one notices.

The happy couple are walking in front of us, still all over each other like they're the first people on the planet to ever fall in love.

Damn kids.

I bite my tongue and try to remember what Fraser's fingers felt like on my face.

End