Author's Notes: Many thanks to JS Calcante and Zabira for their terrific beta work and consistent championing of poor woobie!Fraser.
This story is dedicated to my wonderful friend Secretly Bronte, who is a tireless and absolutely essential beta, a dedicated listener, and an all-around stellar example of humanity. This one's for you, kiddo.

Steam rose in lazy clouds, drifting up to fog the bathroom's small mirror. The faucet was covered with condensation, and when he used his toe to open the hot water tap and let more delicious heat into the tub, his foot slipped. His leg broke the surface of the water with a splash that sent water sloshing over the side of the tub.

"You're getting the floor wet."

Fraser glanced up to see Ray at the bathroom door. He was leaning against the doorjamb, arms braced wide, and the posture pulled his t-shirt tight against his chest and left a small, golden patch of his belly exposed. His skin was already damp from the moisture in the air.

Fraser licked his lips.

"Back bothering you?" Ray asked. He kept his eyes fixed on Fraser's face, and Fraser felt his skin heat and flush red. Ray always saw so much.

"A little," he admitted, turning his attention back to the tap. This time his toe found purchase and he opened the faucet slowly, allowing scalding hot water to flow into the tub.

He heard Ray pad across the bathroom tile, and the plastic toilet lid squeaked as he sat. Fraser counted to ten and shut off the hot water. No sense in overindulging.

"How bad?"

Fraser tilted his head back and looked up at him, wishing the heat hadn't left him feeling so sleepy. His back had been spasming all day, and he had retreated to the bathroom to deal with the pain as soon as he'd fed Dief and undressed. He'd been drifting like the steam since then, doing his best to remain relaxed and unfocused. Blanking his mind had helped: the constant, miserable throbbing in his lower back had finally faded to an occasional dull twinge.

Ray was staring at him, his expression serious. He was leaning his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely in front of him, bare feet planted firmly on the floor, and Fraser couldn't help noticing the trickle of water that ran from his hairline down the side of his neck.

Ray was undoubtedly sweating beneath his tight Bulls t-shirt. Any second now the moisture would begin to soak through, sweat meeting steam until dark patches appeared on the thin material under his arms and between his shoulder blades. The wet skin there would taste wonderful, musky and slick. If Fraser ran his fingers over Ray's sweat-moist skin, his digits would come away wet, glistening, and he could trace the groove of Ray's spine, pause at the small of his back, dip his fingers into the shallow cleft between Ray's buttocks and--

Fraser cleared his throat.

"It's not too bad," he said, hoping Ray would believe him. It seemed a false hope, however; he hadn't done a very credible job of hiding his pain so far. He'd turned on the tap with his toes, for God's sake. Ray would certainly have noticed that. Still, Ray often seemed willing to overlook most of his quirks and odd behavior. He could sometimes see Ray's questions brewing when Fraser stepped out of the closet after a half-hour's visit with his father, or following one of his hushed arguments with Dief. But Ray would usually close his mouth, shake his head ruefully, and turn away. Fraser appreciated his discretion. Perhaps ignoring certain...irregularities was simply part of living with someone.

"Fraser," Ray tried again. Fraser realized he'd been drifting, again. The hot water had been almost as effective as the pills he'd taken at the hospital long, long ago.

Ray was looking at his feet, or perhaps at the green-and-yellow tile floor. He seemed frustrated, his expression tight and closed even in profile as he stared down. His t-shirt pulled tight across his back, and that much-anticipated wet patch appeared like a lopsided target near his spine. Fraser sat up too quickly, and winced.

"Ray, please, what's wrong?" He stared at Ray's bent head. "I'm fine. The pain really isn't that bad, and I always feel much better after a good soak."

"You gotta tell me," Ray said finally, turning. Fraser was relieved to see that the terrible frustration wasn't on his face any longer. "You gotta tell me when you're not feeling too hot, okay?"

And that was exactly the problem, wasn't it? He couldn't tell Ray. He could not have Ray worrying about his back when they were chasing down a suspect, or sitting for long hours in the car during a stakeout. Better that Ray forgot, as everyone else had, about the bullet in his back.

He opened his mouth to suggest as much when Ray stood and stripped off his t-shirt, unbuttoned his jeans, and skinned out of his boxers. He was nude so quickly that Fraser barely registered the flash of bare thighs and belly, the lazy weight of Ray's penis, before Ray stepped into the tub, slipping in behind Fraser with a splash. The water rocked all around them and for an instant everything was wet commotion. But soon the water settled. Ray arranged his legs alongside Fraser's, and eased him backwards until Fraser's back met Ray's chest. His hands were warm on Fraser's shoulders, gentle and steadying, his touch light. It felt so good to be surrounded by Ray, to be cupped and cradled by him.

"Just relax, okay? I'm not mad."

"I didn't think you were." It was not quite a lie, but not quite the truth, either. He knew how frustrating he could be, and he knew that Ray's patience was far from limitless. One day Ray would discover the end of that patience, and this brief, blissful interlude in his arms and bed would end.

Fraser swallowed, closed his eyes, and leaned back against Ray. He could only hope that the day would come later rather than sooner.

He allowed his head to loll back against Ray's shoulder, and luxuriated in the way they were connected from head to toe. Ray was a warm presence behind him, his skin nearly as hot as the water now, and Ray's hands felt wonderful as they stroked over his arms and chest. Ray kissed the side of his neck and licked the skin there experimentally. Fraser closed his eyes and groaned.

"Mmm, that feels very nice, Ray."

He felt Ray's smile. "Good. And if you play nice," he said, lightly rubbing at the join of Fraser's neck and shoulder, "I'll give you a massage after dinner." His hand slipped lower until his thumb brushed over Fraser's nipple.

Fraser shuddered. Ray's touch sent a raw electric current from his nipple to his penis, which was beginning to swell in the water. He arched his chest into Ray's hand, and Ray murmured soothing noises in his ear as he stroked his thumb over Fraser's hard nipple, teasing in a way that made Fraser's pulse flutter. Such a simple touch, and he was instantly hard, and aching.

He turned his head to meet Ray's kiss, not bothering with any preliminaries before thrusting his tongue deep into Ray's mouth, hungry, searching, devouring. Ray tasted so sweet, like rich dark coffee and chocolate. Fraser moaned and pressed himself closer, wrapping one hand around Ray's neck to hold him in place as he kissed him. Ray matched his intensity, gripping his shoulder so tightly his fingers actually hurt as they dug into the muscle. But this, at least, was a pain he could bear. A pain he wanted. Loved. Fraser withdrew slightly to nip and lick at Ray's lips, and Ray relaxed back into the water, welcoming his touch.

Ray was hard. He felt Ray's penis nudging against the base of his spine, and for a moment he paused to ponder the logistics of what it was he wanted to do. "Ray," he said against Ray's mouth--it sounded more like, "Mmpphay"--and Ray broke away to flash a grin at him.

"Yeah?"

Ray's cheeks were flushed, his skin shone with sweat, and his hair was even more wildly disordered than usual, the victim of moisture and Fraser's grasping, stroking fingers. Fraser allowed himself one more quick kiss, and then he turned his face away and twisted his hips slightly, feeling the slide of Ray's penis as it grazed the cleft of his buttocks. "Can you reach the lubricant on the counter?"

Ray nipped at his ear, huffing out a breath of hot laugher that felt warmer than the steam. "Yeah, I think so. You got a plan?"

"Of course." Intercourse might be awkward from this angle, but he didn't want to relocate to the bedroom. He liked the feeling of Ray so close behind him, both of them surrounded by the hot embrace of the water.

"Think your back'll be okay?" Ray sounded almost apologetic about asking, and Fraser closed his eyes.

"It will be fine. I do know my limits, Ray."

The water sloshed loudly as Ray levered himself up far enough to grab the lubricant. His muttered, "Since when?" was covered by the sounds of the water.

Soon Ray was back in position behind Fraser, and he set the small, discreet bottle of Body Fluid on the edge of the tub. Fraser glanced at the tube, wondering why Ray was delaying, but Ray wrapped his arms around Fraser's torso and tugged him back against his chest before Fraser reached any firm conclusions. Ray ran his hands up and down Fraser's belly, his touch neither entirely seductive nor entirely innocent. Again, Fraser let his head fall back on Ray's shoulder, and closed his eyes. He focused on the sensation of Ray's hands moving over his skin: the slight drag of calluses, the deft attention to each small contour of rib, bone, and muscle. Ray knew his body so well, but still it felt as though Ray were trying to map every inch of his skin, like an Arctic explorer encountering new territory.

He felt a deeper state of relaxation take hold of him, his bones going loose and liquid, his breath evening out until he might have almost been asleep. He hadn't felt like this when he'd been alone in the warm bath. That was Ray's doing, he thought. This sense of ease was the direct result of Ray's gentle, cajoling insistence on being close, on pushing away all the barriers between them. Particularly the ones Fraser himself set in place.

"I am sorry I didn't tell you," Fraser said. He kept his eyes closed. "But it's difficult for me to admit when I'm--"

"Feeling human?"

"Mmm," he said, leaning further back into Ray. "I don't want you to see me as a liability."

Ray's arms came around him again. "Frase, you could be blind and legless and you'd still never be a liability. Not to me."

He wanted to nod. He wanted to listen to Ray describe their partnership in that honeyed voice, and feel the vibrations of his words against his back, and drift off like the steam, held and surrounded by love. But still the old fears crowded in.

"If I were to--"

Ray sighed, and dropped one arm into the water. Fraser wasn't entirely sure what he was doing until Ray poured a handful of water over his head. He sputtered under the hot stream, but Ray spooned another handful onto his hair. If Fraser spoke, his mouth would be flooded with water.

"Look, I get that you're insecure," Ray said. "Believe me, I know from insecure. But you have to be able to tell me when you're hurting, or when you're scared or sick or cold or lonely. Partners, right? Or do we have to almost drown again for that to sink in?"

He stopped scooping water onto Fraser's hair, and Fraser found it was safe to speak.

"I am trying, Ray."

"I know." He sounded sad, and a little resigned. His body shifted behind Fraser as he reached for something, and Fraser was only slightly disappointed to discover it wasn't the bottle of lubricant. Ray squirted some of Fraser's homemade mint shampoo, and rubbed his palms together to work up a lather.

He touched Fraser's scalp, those long-fingered hands settling lightly on his head. Fraser stiffened, and then forced himself to relax. In the months since they'd become lovers, Ray had touched every part of his body. And his head was hardly more intimate than his penis or his anus. Still, he felt distinctly...uncomfortable.

"Shhhh," Ray said, beginning to work the scented shampoo through his hair. "You still feeling sore?"

Fraser nodded mutely. It seemed as good an excuse as any.

He tried to give himself over to the feeling of Ray's hands in his hair, his fingers rubbing and massaging his scalp as the pleasant mint of the shampoo scented the air. And it was relaxing: he always enjoyed Ray's physical attentions. But he couldn't shake the sense of impropriety, as though he were allowing Ray to see too much of himself.

Fraser smiled at that, reminding himself of his naked body framed by water and shampoo suds, his heavy, half-aroused penis, easily accessible to Ray at any time.

"This okay?" Ray asked him, murmuring the words in his ear.

"You keep asking me that."

Ray tilted his head up so that he could scrub at the back of Fraser's head, just above the hairline. "Yeah, and I'll keep asking until you start telling. Get used to it."

Fraser smiled just as Ray let his head drop back to rest on his soapy shoulder. "Okay, close your eyes." Ray poured more water over his head, rinsing the shampoo away. His movements were quick and efficient but Fraser felt the way Ray's hands lingered on his neck, the side of his cheek. He was enjoying this, too.

"When you offered earlier to give me a massage--"

"You gonna take me up on it?"

Fraser frowned. "I was contemplating it, yes. My back really is feeling better," and he held up his hand to forestall any rejoinder, "but I think...I think I'd like it anyway. If you're willing."

For the first time he didn't question Ray's desire to be with him, or that Ray would want him tomorrow, next week, next year. He knew the answer to his question, finally. They were partners.

And so Fraser didn't have to turn his head to know that Ray was smiling: Ray's entire body vibrated with approval. "Greatness." Still projecting that sense of warm sanction, Ray slid his hand over Fraser's chest, the movement eased by the last of the shampoo, until he came to a stop low on Fraser's belly. Ray gently spread his fingers over the slight, soft swell of Fraser's abdomen, and Fraser trembled, slightly. "You had some kind of plan, didn't you?"

"Ah," said Fraser, and he flexed his buttocks experimentally. Ray's penis was caught between their bodies, and when Fraser flexed and shifted he felt Ray swell and harden. "I did, yes."

He twisted his head around to kiss Ray again, less demanding now, less hungry. He had nothing to prove, and nothing to hide. Ray sighed happily into his mouth, then deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into Fraser's mouth. The wet, hot tangle of their tongues made Fraser moan, and he shifted again, Ray's now-hard cock settling into place between his cheeks. He felt Ray grope for the bottle and heard the soft "pop" of the bottle top: then Ray's hand, slick with the waterproof lubricant, slipped between them.

At the first press of Ray's finger, Fraser broke away from Ray's mouth and gasped; Ray dropped a soft, wet kiss on his shoulder and eased his finger into Fraser's body, the breach both a pleasure and a slightly burning pain. Still, Fraser acclimated quickly, and soon one finger wasn't enough: he wanted more, he wanted to be closer. He wanted Ray.

"Easy, easy," Ray muttered, removing his hand. He reached around Fraser's torso and Fraser watched as he dribbled more of the silicone gel into his palm. It was fascinating to watch Ray's hands at work, so sure and certain in their movements. Fraser closed his eyes at the surety of those hands on him, inside him.

Ray touched his back, gently, and Fraser eased forward enough for Ray to coat his penis with the lubricant. He waited patiently for Ray's signal--another soft touch on his back, just at the base of his spine, and then braced his hands on the side of the tub. He rose out of the water far enough to angle his body correctly, and then eased himself back down onto Ray. The head of Ray's penis pressed against his entrance, and Fraser shuddered, breathing in through his mouth as he worked his body down against Ray's.

"Fuck," Ray groaned, his hands settling on Fraser's hips, guiding him down. And, God, yes, this was it, this was it: Ray full and hard inside him, his body smooth and wet and warm against him. Ray, Ray everywhere. Fraser bit back his own groan and finally came to a stop, Ray fully enclosed within him.

He wished he could see Ray's face, but he compensated by closing his eyes against the white-tile wall and the sight of their legs, distorted under the water, pressed so close together. He pictured Ray's expression, that slack, unselfconscious ecstasy that always caused his eyes to fall shut, his long wet lashes brushing cheeks flushed with arousal. Ray was beautiful, by any definition, but when he surrendered to pleasure he was divine.

Ray thrust up, quickly, and the sharp suddenness of the movement made Fraser draw in an unsteady breath. He bent his knees to give himself some leverage, his feet flat against the porcelain bottom of the tub, and began to rock his hips. He could control the pace and speed: he could dictate how deeply Ray went inside his body. They had never tried it from this angle before, and suddenly Fraser was dizzied by the power of his position. Ray was his.

He moved raggedly, all the finesse and reserve he usually showed tossed aside by the incredible feeling of Ray inside him, filling him and setting every nerve ending in his body aflame. He tipped his head back and rode Ray hard, his mouth parted in a wordless cry of pleasure. Ray's hold on his hips tightened, and he gripped so hard Fraser knew he would have bruises there in the morning. But Ray didn't try to slow the movement of his hips or alter his pace; instead, he seemed to be hanging on for dear life. They were wild now, frantic, water lapping all around them and over the side of the tub. The floor would be soaked, but Fraser didn't care in the slightest: a mess seemed a very small price to pay for this kind of joy.

Ray jerked against him, crying out, and Fraser couldn't contain himself any longer. He quickened his wild, unsophisticated thrusts, and the instant Ray wrapped a hand around his penis he spasmed once, twice, and came.

They sagged together, panting. Fraser's heart was beating violently, and against his back he felt the rapid pulse of Ray's heart. As the adrenaline and arousal slowly drained from his body, replaced by the mellow glow of repletion, other details filtered in: the fact that the water was now cool, and that the tub was mostly empty. He felt Ray's kiss against his temple, and the soft rumble of his laugh.

"Jesus, look at this. We need a lifeguard."

"No," Fraser said, reaching up to cup the back of Ray's neck and bring him close for a kiss. "I think we're fine on our own."