Author's Notes: Written for the getfraserlaid community. Prompt: fisting.

"Hey, you ever put your whole hand up there?"

Silence.

More silence.

Ray found the energy to lift his head from the sweat-dampened pillow and looked over at the body sprawled next to him. Fraser was lying on his back, one leg still tangled with his, one arm under Ray's neck and the other flopped bonelessly over his eyes.

Now, he realized, maybe not so boneless. Fraser was tense, somehow looking Mountie-like, which was freaky considering his current position and sweaty, stinky bareassedness. And he was blushing. It had been a long time since he'd seen Frase blush like that.

Ray grinned. "So I'll take that for a no?" He closed his eyes and stretched. He was a sex god and no sexual idiot savant Mountie could deal with his fucking superpowers.

Fraser, arm still covering his eyes, finally spoke. "Would you be interested in experiencing that form of lovemaking? It is reportedly quite... intense. Perhaps even harmful if the participant being penetrated is not fully relaxed and willing."

Ray snorted. "You scared, Frase? You think I can't take it?"

"I could not possibly attempt such an action on your person without being fully knowledgeable about the potential repercussions myself. It would be highly irresponsible."

Ray sorted through that for a little while and then just about choked on his tongue. "Fuck! You wouldn't. You would?" Goddamn Mountie was fucking with him. Had to be.

Moving to prop himself up on one elbow and look down at Ray, Fraser said solemnly, "Would I sacrifice my virtue to accommodate your unnatural urges? Of course. You're my responsibility and my friend." Then he grinned a not at all Mountie-like grin.

Now that was too much. Ray considered getting righteously pissed, but decided that would be a bigger defeat, and way less fun, than the alternative Frase was proposing.

"Okay, then. Sure. You need some time to prepare yourself? Do a sweat lodge thing? Should we pencil in a date before or after consulting the tree moss?"

"It seems wise to make the attempt soon after orgasm. I am feeling... quite relaxed, Ray."

It took some more deep breathing and calming, head-kicking type thoughts before Ray could move or speak. "All right. Knees and elbows."

Fraser silently moved to obey, pulling a particularly fat pillow under his hips, but holding himself up above it. Ray snorted.

"Proper preparation?"

"Just the first step of many, surely."

Aha! Ray enjoyed a brief smirk. It was small slip, but he heard it and Fraser knew it. Patting Fraser on his upturned ass, he said, "Don't be scared, Frase. I know the steps. I got the steps down. I can dance to this."

Fraser probably rolled his eyes, or made the same response with just a lip twitch, or freaking ear flick for all he knew. He didn't bother to look. He was up off the bed, heading to the little bathroom. "I'll be a couple of minutes. You can hold the position, can't you?"

He rummaged in the medicine cabinet, found a full bottle of lube, since they'd almost used up the one by the bed already. Pausing, he checked out his nails. Actually, they were a fucking mess. Life in the backside of beyond, Yukon, was hard on a guy's manicure. He found a file and leaned his bare ass against the sink to work. After he'd smoothed the jagged edges on his left hand he called out, "You okay in there?"

"Perfectly, Ray."

"I'll just be a minute more. The five Ps take time, you know."

Silence again. Stubborn bastard. He finished his right hand and turned again to the cupboard. The med kit actually had latex gloves, which was a surprise. They went through fixing-up-Ray-and-Fraser-but-mostly-Fraser-after-they-did-something-stupid-and/or-suicidal supplies faster than Dief went through a box of doughnuts.

Okay. Ray took a couple of deep breaths and practiced his Bad Cop stare in the mirror for a couple of seconds before he grabbed the gloves and the extra lube and returned to the bedroom.

Goddamn. Fraser was still on all fours, his skin glowy in the weird, dull half-light of the summer night. He was letting his head hang down, his almost longer than regulation hair brushing his forearms. Fuck, he was a beautiful man.

Ray dropped the supplies at the foot of the bed and sat, resting a hand high on Fraser's ass, rubbing it in a small circle. "You sure about this? You don't got to."

"I would like to. Very much."

"Okay, okay. We're gonna do this. No problem." Show no fear, Kowalski. Don't show your neck or they'll take your ass down. He moved between Fraser's legs, running his hands slowly over the curves of Fraser's ass, caressed the crease under his cheeks, and then stroked down his thighs. He reached under Fraser to gently roll his balls, stroke his cock. Not hard. Not soft. Not bad.

Ray moved one hand to each cheek, gently pressed them apart and licked delicately at Fraser's hole. Fraser couldn't help the full body shudder than ran through him, though he stayed manfully silent. Ray licked and tongued around the outside of Fraser's ring, taking his time, until Fraser couldn't help but shift ever so slightly back, trying to move onto his tongue.

Oh, yeah, he was king. He made a point with his tongue and pushed it in, letting his saliva wet the area, fucking Fraser with his tongue but holding back, not pushing in as far as he could, feeling Frase's hole loosen slightly, feeling his want in the still way too controlled movement of his hips.

Fraser let out a low, rumbly moan.

Ray grinned and pulled back after one firm kiss, then reached for the gloves. He pulled one glove on, waiting to ask the question til just the right time. "You doing okay?" Immediately after asking he released the wrist of the glove, making a sharp snap against his skin.

"Certainly."

Oh yeah. That one had cost him. Frase was trying, but his voice had that breathy, deep, quiet sound. It wouldn't be long til he was a moaning, panting, writhing, slutty Mountie. Ray closed his eyes and inhaled, a twitch at the edges of his lips. He'd have to come up with a new title.

FuckingElvis, no, fuckingSteveMcQueenonaMotorcycleGodKingOfSex sounded good.

He considered putting on the other glove, just to mess with Fraser, but decided it was too much work. And that hand might miss the feel of smooth, gorgeous Mountie skin. He pried the flip top open, then drizzled the lube all over his gloved hand. It felt weird through the latex, and he took a moment to rub his fingers together, getting used to the sensation.

Tracing one fingertip around Fraser's hole, he held the lube up over the area and let it dribble out. Frase almost entirely suppressed the flinch.

"Cold, huh?" Ray leaned in, huffing warm breath at Fraser. He increased the pressure of his stroking, and slipped his forefinger inside.

"Oh, yeah. You feel good, all hot and tight inside. Hard to imagine how you could take more fingers, or my cock, not to mention my whole hand, Fraser. Maybe this isn't..."

"I'm perfectly all right, Ray. And you know it."

"Sure, Frase. If you say so."

Ray pressed a second finger in, loving the clasp of Fraser's body. His other hand began to wander up Fraser's thigh, over his hip and side, then drifted back down his front. Nobody felt like Fraser.

Fraser who was nearly hard now, who felt so good in his hand, Ray's fingers stroking up and down his beautiful cock. Fraser who was rocking now, back onto his fingers, yes, and then forward into his hand. Time for another finger.

Fraser made a sudden yipping sound, but it wasn't pain. Ray knew the pain sounds, damn it, and usually they were no sounds at all, just grim silence far from medical attention.

Ray abruptly stilled his hand, leaned up on his knees, leaving his three fingers where they were, and awkwardly folded himself onto Fraser's strong back. He didn't think about scars, much less the one near where he rested his cheek.

Fraser was a sneaky bastard, so he waited a few minutes, letting Ray relax into him, letting Ray rub his cheek against his skin. Then he spoke up, his voice almost convincingly even. "If you're not going to continue, perhaps we should postpone this for another night when you are more fully..."

"Shut up." Ray kept his eyes closed, gritted his teeth. "I've got three fingers up your ass now. And so far I've been easy on you, pretty much, but any minute now I'm going to work them. I'm going to stretch you and fuck you with my fingers and I'm going to make you ask me nice. And that's just with three. We got a long way to go before we're done."

Ray waited another minute to make his point, then settled himself back down between Fraser's legs. He poured more lube onto Fraser's ass and his own hand, ignoring Fraser's twitch of response. Trying to palm the lube one handed was tricky, and he ended up spilling some on the bed, but he managed to get a decent palmful in his free hand, which he stroked first onto Fraser's cock and then his own.

He kneeled up behind Fraser, the hand not stroking in and out of Fraser's ass wrapped around his own cock. "You know what? I'm rock hard. I've got you all open and wet in front of me and I'm touching myself, fucking my hand. It would feel so good to fuck you right now, just push in and ride you hard. Maybe hold you down and pound you. Maybe do it slow. So damn slow it'll be winter and I'll still be torturing you, holding you right on the edge."

Fraser was bucking his ass back, fucking himself on Ray's fingers. He crooked them and found the spot, the one that made Fraser make sounds like those, the broken grunts and vowels that were forced out with his eyes closed tight and his mouth open and loose and wet. Ray released himself and reached around, grasping Fraser's cock.

"What do you want?" Ray asked it quietly, despite the racket Fraser was making.

Fraser gasped, somehow found the discipline to still his hips, to make his voice almost steady, if not anything like normal. "You know what I want."

Ray pushed into Fraser some more, aiming for the spot and working it mercilessly. His other hand twisted up and down Fraser's cock, working it just right.

"You want more? Do you think you can take more? Do you want me to fuck you more?"

"I can take it. Yes. Yes, please, Ray. Please do it."

Ray pulled his fingers out slightly, added his pinky and pushed them back in, four now stretching and twisting inside Fraser. His own body felt hot and tight and he could feel sweat on his forehead. He fucked Fraser steadily with his fingers, as good as he knew how, trying his best to drive him out of his mind.

Fraser was losing it now, losing it just right, losing it in the way that made Ray glad to be alive, to be 40, to be living in a place he couldn't find on a map a couple of years ago. Happy to be the one making Fraser shudder and spread his legs further apart and hiss "please", the s all drawn out and achy.

Ray pulled his thumb in tight against his palm and slowly, so damn slowly, so slowly he was hurting with it, pushed his whole hand into Fraser. Fraser let out another big sound that somehow ended up in an "ay", so Ray knew what he was trying to say.

He didn't figure on what came next.

"More."

The man was going to kill him, and he wasn't the one with a fist up his ass. He paused, just in case he'd misheard or Fraser changed his mind, like any normal person would.

Frase made a breathless, hungry sound, so Ray steeled himself and began moving his hand, twisting it against his prostate, simulating what his cock had done, would do, wanted to do right now. It was hard to balance, to fuck Fraser's ass with one hand and grip him with the other, but he wasn't going to be the one to break first.

Fraser yowled, grunted, made insane animal noises, his ass so damn tight around Ray.

Only his wrist was visible, pushing into and out of Fraser, shockingly familiar in such an unfamiliar place, and Ray gaped at the sight. This was his. His Fraser, his work, his superhero powers expressed in a single moment of sexual magnificence.

He was making Fraser strain with his whole body, plead with his whole body, take with his whole body. There were no words to describe the fucking magnitude of his fucking achievement.

Ray came. Nothing but air touching his cock but, Jesus Christ, he let out a high, sharp, embarrassing sound and came all over the sheets.

Goddamn it. Panting, he hoped Fraser's brain was too fried for him to notice, otherwise his cred was fully blown. If he was lucky, Fraser'd be distracted by the avalanche of an orgasm rushing over him, his hips stuttering in helpless, no-rhythm thrusts, his ass clenching even tighter around Ray's hand, his cock leaping and spitting.

Finally, Fraser stilled, breathing raggedly, his head hanging again, his damp hair limp. Ray was silent as he twisted his hand one last time, carefully uncurling his fingers and slipping out of Fraser. He pressed a kiss to Fraser's hip, then padded off to the bathroom, where he tossed the glove, washed his hands, rinsed with mouthwash, and splashed his face with water, his whole body still jangling.

He returned to the bedroom with a damp washcloth. Fraser hadn't moved and his sides were still heaving. Ray gently ran the cloth over the sweat gathered at the small of Fraser's back, then stroked it down to clean up the sweat and lube before tossing it in the general direction of the bathroom.

Ray gently pushed Fraser onto his back and flopped down next to him. Frase tugged him into his arms, pulled him tight and squeezed, almost painfully, his nose buried in Ray's hair.

Ray didn't say, "I didn't think you could do it."

He didn't say, "You made me come just looking at you."

He didn't say, "Fucking overachieving Mountie, you think you can beat me? Just you wait."

He didn't say, "God, I love you. Please don't ever stop loving me." But he was here, in Fraser's arms in Fraser's bed in Nowheresville, Northwest Territories, and he figured Fraser already knew all that stuff. Probably smelled it.

So he made himself comfortable, smiled a contented little smile, and all he said was, "You were breathing kinda hard there."