Author's Notes: Inspired by the ds_flashfiction Sexual Exploration challenge. Thanks to ToraK for the beta.

Fraser settled down to watch a movie on the Consulate television with a sigh, feeling slightly lonely. Foolish, really, since even if Ray had been in town, Fraser probably would still have been on his own. They didn't spend every waking moment together after all. He certainly didn't begrudge Ray his holiday either; his friend worked hard and deserved the vacation.

No, Fraser wasn't so selfish as to wish that Ray had stayed simply to keep him company, but realising that everyone he considered a close friend was currently more than a thousand miles away had left him out of sorts and restless. Even Diefenbaker had deserted him in favour of attempting to woo a Pomeranian he'd spotted in the park earlier (something Fraser couldn't help feeling was doomed to disaster), and he'd given up trying to read upon realising he had spent ten minutes without turning a page and had no idea what the book was even about. The movie was a final attempt at relaxing before he retired; with any luck it would prove absorbing enough to distract him from his thoughts for a while.

The first part certainly was intriguing. He had gathered from the title that it would concern the Catholic religion, though he hadn't expected anything quite so passionate and provocative. The interaction of the two main characters, an older parish priest and one newly ordained, was certainly highlighting interesting issues of faith and duty to an ideal in the modern world. Fraser found himself identifying quite strongly with the younger priest's deep convictions and belief in his own actions, though there was also a feeling of wry embarrassment in the recognition. He had certainly acted with a similar arrogance on occasion and both Rays had accused him of stubbornness, with some justification.

His identification with the character became rather more unsettling when the young priest removed his dog collar, went out to a club and entered into a sexual liaison with another man.

Fraser was not as naive as he knew most people generally assumed. He had seen pornographic materials before, both heterosexual and homosexual. Of course he had. He was an officer of the law and exposure to that side of life was inevitable. But he'd never understood the appeal of such movies, why anyone could gain pleasure from watching such mechanical, joyless acts. Even the people in them seemed unreal, like plastic automatons rather than flesh and blood.

But those remembered scenes bore no comparison to the love scene in this. It was lovemaking that he saw, and the obvious emotion made a larger impression even than its startlingly explicit nature. There was a raw tenderness and intimacy to it that was almost more shocking to him than the act the two men were apparently performing.

It was disturbing.

Unsettling to watch.

It was the most erotic thing he had seen in his life.

He was far too shaken by that thought, by his own arousal, to pay any further attention to the rest of the plot. It was erotic, yes, but that did not necessarily mean anything about his sexuality. Victoria might have been the only woman he had loved (though in retrospect he was unsure if that was truly the correct term for it) but he had been attracted to other women. He had kissed Inspector Thatcher, and she was a beautiful, intelligent woman that any man would be proud to be involved with. If the memory of that moment seemed pale and weak in comparison to his feelings now, that was simply because it had been a long time ago. He would certainly have been interested in pursuing a relationship with the Inspector - with Meg - the only reason he hadn't was it would be inappropriate due to her seniority. Which was perfectly sensible and understandable. He was not unaware of Francesca's interest in him either, but the fact that she was Ray Vecchio's sister had always precluded his thinking of her romantically, otherwise he was sure he would return her interest. She was a very pretty, kind-hearted woman after all. And there were equally valid reasons for him holding back with Janet Morse and the other women of his acquaintance who had shown a preference for his company.

It was ridiculous to think that he could have reached this age without realising he could be attracted to his own gender. He was simply reacting to the emotion of the story and the conviction and talent of the actors involved. That was all.

He readied himself for bed, firmly resolved not to consider it any further, but for once Fraser's powers of concentration let him down. He was unable to keep his mind from returning to certain images and moments from the movie and as a consequence he found it hard - difficult - to drop off to sleep.

***

He woke the next morning gasping out his climax, one hand still wrapped around his erection with dreams of strong hands and smooth skin over lean muscle blurring into his memory. His alarm went off while he was still panting for breath though, leaving him with no time to consider the incident further. It was an inauspicious start to the morning.

All that day, Fraser found himself dreadfully distracted from his duties. His skin felt strange, too tight and sensitive, and his mind kept straying back to that love scene, leaving him in a hot daze, completely incapable of concentrating on anything other than the pictures in his head. Near lunchtime, he realised that he was replacing the image of the actors with himself and Ray and felt the heat increase exponentially, suddenly intensely aroused.

From somewhere he found the presence of mind to beg to be excused from work, telling the Inspector that he felt dizzy and feverish, which was at least factually correct. He dragged himself to the bathroom praying that cold showers were as effective a remedy for uncontrollable desire as had been rumoured.

Unfortunately, all the cool caress of the water managed to do for Fraser was further tease his already sensitised skin. He felt like he was burning up, understanding now what people meant by the "heat of passion", what Ray meant when he said something was H-O-T, hot.

Oh God, Ray...

He was back in his dream, and the hands sliding down over his stomach were Ray's hands, sure and strong and a little rough around the edges. It was Ray's hands teasing him as he stifled a desperate moan. Oh. Yes. Oh yes, stroking so perfectly as his hips jerked forwards, lifting him higher and higher, Ray's hands, Ray's skin on his, Ray's mouth curving into a wicked grin as he watched Fraser lose control...

"Oh please, yes, oh Ray!"

Fraser propped himself on shaking hands against the wall, pleasure still surging through him in waves, and let the water sluice him clean, soothing now that his desire was somewhat slaked.

The evidence would seem to suggest that he was wildly attracted to his hyperkinetic partner. Perhaps he should be more worried by the realisation but Fraser felt too good still to do anything but smile. He couldn't say with confidence yet whether Ray felt the same, but a review of their interactions to date did make it seem at least likely. And Ray had said that he'd try anything. Yes, there were definitely grounds for hope.

Maintiens le droit may be the official motto of the RCMP, but Fraser had always prided himself on discharging the unofficial one with equal zeal. When Ray returned from Mexico, he would find out if he could indeed always get his man.