Author's website: http://www.slashcity.org/~rushlight

Disclaimer:

Author's Notes: Special thanks to Beth for giving this story a pre-posting read-through, and for bolstering an uncertain writer's confidence. :)

Story Notes: This story is dedicated to all the listsibs on Serge who made me feel so very welcome when I first joined the fandom. Especially, it goes to Fortitude, Beth, Mary, and Kathleen, who were nice enough to let me gush at all hours of the day and night about my newfound love for these characters, and who didn't mind too much that I like RayV, too. :)
More Notes: This is my very first attempt at writing F/K slash, so any comments, encouragement, criticism, etc. will be very much appreciated.

Gravity
by, Rushlight

Ray slouched back in his seat and hooked one foot up on the dashboard in front of him, letting out a harried sigh. Somehow, he managed to take up nearly the entire front seat of the vehicle, which was a feat that Fraser found quite remarkable considering his slight stature.

"God, I hate stakeouts," Ray said, running a hand back over the top of his spiky hair and making an obvious effort to force himself to relax. Even on the best of days, he looked like someone had used his head to buff the entire first floor of the Canadian Consulate. But now, after a day spent filling out paperwork and tracking down an increasingly nonexistent trail of leads, his hair seemed to have taken on a haphazard and wildly improbable life of its own out of sheer frustration. Fraser regarded it with some degree of admiration for its apparent defiance of the laws of gravity.

"At least Mr. Anasazi returned home during the previous shift, so all we're required to do is observe his residence for the remainder of the evening." Fraser could hear the forced joviality in his words and winced inwardly. The truth was, he wasn't looking forward to spending the evening cooped up in this car any more than Ray was, albeit for different reasons. It wasn't something he allowed himself to think about very often, but of late, he'd found himself looking at Ray with somewhat more than partnerly affection, and being in close quarters with him always seemed to multiply the effect. Which was unfortunate, since Ray had never given any signs of feeling "affection" toward anyone not of the opposite gender. And Fraser had been watching.

Ray glanced at him irritably. "And just how is that supposed to be good news, Fraser? At least Huey and Dewey had the excitement of following the guy home. What do we get to do? I'll tell you what we get to do. Sit in a car and watch the paint on his house dry all night long."

Obviously, it was going to be one of those evenings. Resisting the urge to comment on the fact that the paint on Mr. Anasazi's apartment was peeling significantly and therefore not likely to be doing any amount of drying over the course of the evening, Fraser turned his attention to the street around them.

The sun had set nearly an hour ago, and now there wasn't even the faintest blush at the horizon to show where it had gone. As usual, the Chicago sky was disturbingly free of visible stars, and Fraser looked away from that yawning void quickly, feeling a trickle of uneasiness move through him. The street was virtually deserted, lit only by the dull, burnt umber glow of the sodium-vapor lamps that were set up at regular intervals along the side of the street. A faint breeze rustled a wadded-up newspaper at the edge of the sidewalk nearby.

Beside him, Ray fidgeted discontentedly, drawing Fraser's attention back inside the car. As Fraser watched, Ray twisted his lean form around into an even more unlikely position, swearing under his breath when he apparently found this one just as uncomfortable as the last.

Fraser frowned, glancing at him disapprovingly. "You really should learn to relax, Ray."

Ray shot him a venom-filled glare. "I can't help it, Fraser. I can't stand sitting around like this. I need to move, I need to do something. I don't have all that practice you do guarding the Consulate from invading pedestrians."

Fraser dragged a thumbnail over his left eyebrow and sighed, turning to look out the window beside him. He probed the shadows of the building they were supposed to be surveying with a watchful eye, but there was no sign of movement. No sign of life, even. For all he could tell, Mr. Anasazi had sneaked out sometime before their arrival and taken up residence in the outer provinces of Timbuktu.

That was, he had to admit, highly unlikely.

"As long as he remains on the premises, we have nothing to worry about," he said, wishing that he at least could find his words the slightest bit comforting. He knew that they were probably only succeeding in irritating Ray further.

"Yeah, he's still in there, Fraser." Ray didn't sound at all reassured by this. In fact, his irritation seemed to double as he glared at the closed front door of Mr. Anasazi's apartment, and he hunched down against the door behind him as if settling in for a truly massive sulk. "He's in there, lying in a nice, comfortable bed, while we're out here sitting in the damned car getting pins and needles in places that I don't even want to mention." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as if to illustrate the point. "He's in there, Fraser, either sleeping or fucking or whatever the hell it is guys like him do on a Tuesday night. And where are we? Huh? Answer me that, Fraser. Just where the hell are we?"

Fraser stared at him for a moment, not quite sure what answer was expected of him. "In the car?" he ventured after a moment, feeling somewhat lost.

Ray nodded as if this proved his point exactly. "Yes. We're in the car. Again. How many stakeouts we been on this past month, anyway? And don't answer that, Fraser, 'cause I really do not want to hear it." Fraser closed his mouth again quickly. "My point is, when are we gonna see some action on this case? There's only so much of this cloak and dagger stuff a man can do and still stay sane. You know what I mean?"

Taking in the barely subdued energy that fairly crackled beneath the surface of Ray's skin, Fraser had to nod. "Yes, Ray. I believe I do."

And for once, he seemed to have said the right thing, because Ray relaxed slightly. "Well, there you go, then. It just ain't right. It's not ... whadaya call it, humane. It's cruel and unusual punishment, Fraser, and as soon as we get something on this guy I am gonna kick his freaking head in."

Fraser had to suppress the smile that wanted to twitch at the corner of his mouth at this deadpan statement, and he shifted his gaze once again to the shadowed apartment building across the street. "Understood."

The next few moments passed in a companionable silence that was almost comfortable, until Ray shifted position again and bumped his elbow against the window, which then prompted him to fill the air with some rather imaginative cursing. Fraser gave him a disapproving look but refrained from commenting.

"May I make a suggestion?" he said instead.

Ray paused in mid-curse and pinned him with a glare that could have conceivably brought the entire Arctic Ocean to a seething boil. "What?" he said, biting the word off angrily.

Fraser hesitated only slightly before replying, "You seem to have a surfeit of energy that is interfering with your ability to perform your duties in a calm and rational manner."

Ray's eyes widened, and Fraser got the impression that he was trying to break the sentence apart in his head in order to determine if, taken as a whole, it constituted something that he wanted to hear.

The decision he came to in this regard became patently obvious a moment later. Leaning forward abruptly, he stabbed a finger sharply into Fraser's chest and said, "There is nothing wrong with my ability to perform my duties. Just where the hell do you get off--"

"Ray."

"--telling me that I can't fucking--"

"Ray."

"--perform my duties when half the time it's me going in to pull your scrawny ass out of the fire. Huh, Fraser? Answer me that. Just who do you think you are--"

"Ray. Ray. Ray."

"What?" Ray glared at him, clearly upset at having his tirade interrupted.

"I didn't mean to insult you. I only thought that it might be beneficial to both of us if you were to find a way to ... dispose of some of your excess energy in a way that doesn't involve verbal sparring, which is both unpleasant and counterproductive to what we hope to accomplish here this evening." Fraser felt Ray's gaze narrow on him, and he turned away to look out the window again, feeling a slow blush begin to crawl up his neck and color the skin behind his ears.

Ray regarded him curiously, sensing the sudden crack in his stoic mask. "'Dispose of it'?" he echoed. "Just how do you propose I do that? There isn't really all that much room for calisthenics in here, and if I get out of the car to start doing jumping jacks on the curb, I have a feeling our guy might start to get suspicious."

"You're right, of course, Ray. I wasn't thinking of anything quite so ... obvious to passersby." He kept his gaze fixed on the building across the street, although he had to admit that his attention was firmly focused on the body that sat like lightning poised to strike in the seat beside him. The pent-up energy that rose from Ray seemed to thrum in the air between them, raising the hairs along the back of his neck.

Now he really had Ray's attention. "Okay, so give." Ray's eyes seemed to be lit from somewhere within with a silvery-grey light, gleaming with a curious shine in the murky light of the streetlamps. Fraser met that fey gaze briefly and then quickly looked away again. "What do you want I should do? You've got to give me a hint here."

Fraser hesitated, immediately doubting the wisdom of raising this subject at all. A small, niggling voice in the back of his mind questioned his motives reprovingly, but it wasn't enough to stop him from saying, "There are certain, ah, actions that men can perform that are well-suited to the task of dissolving excess energy, Ray. I was merely suggesting that you ... that you avail yourself of them."

The blush had risen from his neck nearly to his hairline now, but he refused to turn and see what effect his words had had on Ray. The sudden silence in the car was deafening, broken only by the rapid thunder of his own nervous heartbeat, which he was certain Mr. Anasazi could hear all the way in his apartment across the street.

After a moment, Ray said, "Let me get this straight." His tone was unreadable, but at least he didn't sound angry. "You're telling me I should ... that I should what? Jack off? Here, in the car?" He paused. "With you?"

Fraser turned toward him sharply at that, his eyes widening. Ray was looking at him with a look of calm inquisitiveness, as if he were questioning Fraser's choice of beverage with their afternoon meal. Surely Ray's calm reaction to this suggestion didn't mean...

Heart hammering in his chest, Fraser found himself saying, "Masturbation is an act that has been utilized in many primitive cultures as a way of releasing anxiety and stress before battle. There is a rich history of ritual self-pleasuring among the Mafustani warriors of India, which was often performed in tandem with simultaneous rituals of fasting, dancing, and self-scarification..." And just where did his brain go when his mouth took off like that, anyway? Judging from the way that Ray was looking at him, he was asking himself that very same question.

"Fraser."

Fraser drew in a deep breath, stilling his monologue with an effort. "Yes, Ray?"

Ray shook his head in what Fraser could only describe as reluctant admiration. "I cannot believe that I just heard the word 'masturbation' come out of your mouth. We are gonna have to wash your mouth out with soap. I think that is the single most randiest thing I have ever heard you say." He grinned slightly, and the expression gave him a look that was simultaneously innocent and predatory. Fraser swallowed forcefully. "No Mountie points for you today."

"So..." Fraser cleared his throat. "I take it this means that you don't want to--"

"It don't mean nothing, Fraser. I was just curious, that's all." All of Ray's unbridled energy, which had previously been gearing toward inciting an argument between them, was now being put to the task of teasing Fraser mercilessly. Fraser couldn't decide which was worse. "I mean, it's not every day that my partner offers to jack me off in the middle of a stakeout..."

"I didn't offer to jack you off, Ray." Was he even truly having this conversation? "I merely mentioned the benefits of self-pleasuring as a means of releasing tension in certain high-anxiety situations."

"Uh-huh." Ray regarded him narrowly. "And that's what we got right here, all right. A high-anxiety situation. Can't you just feel the tension in the air?"

Fraser felt his skin flush again. In verbal battles of emotional intensity, Ray could run circles around him every time. The world Fraser was comfortable with consisted of the clean, unambiguous lines of logic; the way he felt whenever Ray was around was something quite beyond his experience or understanding.

Not that his body was having any problems with ambiguity. It knew perfectly well what it wanted when Ray's attention was focused on him in this way, and not for the first time, Fraser was grateful for the length and thickness of the red uniform tunic that covered his lap. He shifted uncomfortably, trying for a sternly disapproving frown. "I'm serious Ray," he said, hoping to deflect some of the intensity that Ray was casting in his direction, but his effort failed miserably when he realized that Ray had no such fortune in wearing a lengthy tunic over his lap. Even in the uncertain glow from the streetlamps outside, it was apparent that Ray's interest in this conversation was somewhat more than intellectual.

Ray's eyes held his evenly. "So am I, Fraser," he said.

Fraser's jaw fell open. Surely he didn't mean...

Sighing as if he were secretly praying for deliverance from dim-witted Mounties, Ray slumped back into his seat again and spread his legs as much as the confines of the GTO would allow. Fraser stared, unable to tear his eyes away as Ray slid a hand up the inside of one jean-clad thigh, shimmying back against the seat until he'd found a relatively comfortable position.

"Ray?" Fraser said, somewhat chagrined when his voice came out as little more than a breathless squeak.

Ray looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes and raised one eyebrow inquisitively. "What's the matter, Frase?"

Fraser had to clear his throat twice before he could get it to work properly. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing?" Ray's voice was perfectly reasonable. The hand on his thigh slid down to his knee, then up again, and Fraser started at the sound of fingernails tracing across worn denim.

"It looks like you're, ah ... getting ready to masturbate, Ray."

Ray nodded slowly, as if they were discussing stock quotes. "It was your idea."

"Well, yes, but..." He faltered slightly, caught completely off-guard by Ray's unexpected compliance, and then abruptly decided, Why the hell not? Straightening, he said, "I was rather hoping that you'd allow me to help."

The sudden grin that Ray favored him with reminded Fraser uncomfortably of the look that Diefenbaker got when he'd caught a whiff of his favorite donut. Suddenly wondering just who was seducing whom here, he reached up to loosen the collar of his uniform with a sharp, almost desperate movement and sucked in deep lungfuls of air.

Ray ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip without moving his eyes away from Fraser's. "You look good," he said appreciatively, and his voice had taken on a quality that Fraser had never heard before. It was deeper somehow, darker, and yet somehow warm and soothing all at the same time. Fraser realized suddenly that this was how Ray sounded in bed, and the stirring in his groin hardened almost immediately into aching arousal.

He took another deep breath to steady himself. "You don't, ah ... You don't look so bad yourself, Ray." Which was the understatement of the year. Sprawled languidly back against the seat of his car in the semi-darkness, stroking himself slowly through the fabric of his jeans, Ray was the sexiest thing that Fraser had ever seen.

"Took you long enough to notice," Ray complained, tipping his head back and biting down lightly on his lower lip as his fingers traced the now clearly visible bulge at his groin. His hips shifted restlessly under the stimulation, and after a moment, Fraser realized that the truly disgraceful noises he heard were coming from himself.

"I noticed." Fraser's eyes were glued to Ray's stroking hand, and his own hands were clenched so tightly in front of him that he could feel his nails pressing little half-moons into his palms.

"But you never said anything."

"I couldn't."

"Why?"

"Because things are different here, Ray." He frowned. "I mean, here in the city. With you." He knew he sounded like a complete fool, but it was an effort to gather his thoughts enough to form coherent sentences at all, watching Ray do that to himself. And how could he possibly explain himself, anyway? The truth was, his friendship with Ray had become so dear to him that nothing could have made him risk it. And there were just no words to say that without sounding trite. "As it is, I couldn't be sure that you wouldn't respond with some degree of ... disapproval if I shared my feelings with you."

Ray grinned. "You were afraid I was gonna clock you one, huh?"

Fraser arched an eyebrow at him. "You do have a gun, Ray."

"That I do, Frase." The words were thick with innuendo. Ray's eyes had darkened nearly to black in the shadows, and his breathing took on an unsteady rasp as he pushed his hips up rhythmically against his flattened hand. "So," he said conversationally, although his voice was strained, "you gonna help me out here, or are you gonna leave me to deal with this 'energy surplus' all by myself?"

There was a feeling of inevitability to this moment, as if all of his resistance against giving in to these feelings had been as ineffectual as the earth trying to struggle away from the pull of the sun. Fraser moistened his lower lip slowly, and he smiled inwardly as he saw Ray's gaze latch onto his mouth. After a moment, Ray's eyes flickered up to meet his, and something in them darkened still further at whatever they saw there. Fraser wondered if his gaze looked as hungry as he felt.

Judging by Ray's reaction as he leaned forward to kiss him, he would say so.

The instant his lips touched Ray's, Ray opened for him, sucking Fraser's tongue deep into his mouth and closing both hands over his shoulders to pull the bigger man's weight down on top of him. Fraser moaned at the hot, insistent pressure of the body that rubbed up against him, begging eloquently for further contact, and his hand moved as if of its own will to press against the enticing bulge between Ray's widely spread thighs. How could one body give off so much heat, so much wild energy? In passion, Ray was a feral thing, all sinewy strength and nails and teeth and heartfelt, irresistible need. Having that inescapable energy directed against him in such a way was almost frightening.

Fraser had never experienced anything more arousing in his entire life.

There wasn't much room in the front seat of the GTO to maneuver, but somehow he managed to get the fly of Ray's jeans open, and then he was there, he was right where he wanted to be, as his fingers at last closed around the hard, dark heat of Ray's erection, and he stroked up once, hard, just to feel the slickness there spread across his palm. Ray bucked under him, making an incoherent cry, but Fraser was beyond hearing, beyond feeling anything but the hard, wild energy that surged against him.

"Oh God," Ray panted, arching his hips up into Fraser's hand and scrabbling at his shoulders for balance as he scooted back against the car door, opening his legs further to give Fraser better access. He didn't even seem to notice when his head hit against the closed window behind him. "God, Fraser. Fuck, yeah..."

Fraser drank in the words as he drank in the seductively needy movements of the body beneath him, and he cursed inwardly at the close quarters as his elbow hit against the gear shift and his shoulder caught up painfully against the steering wheel. There was no way they were going to get anything resembling full body contact out of this, but it didn't matter, really, because it was enough just to touch Ray like this, to be here with him like this, to feel the slick heat of Ray's arousal surge up over and over into the cupped tunnel of his hand, bodies moving together in a dance that was somehow enthralling in its sheer, wild beauty.

Ray's eyes were closed to slits, his cheeks flushed as if he were running a marathon, and Fraser couldn't resist the urge to bend down and run his tongue over the sweat-dampened hairline above Ray's left ear, tasting the dark, musky salt of his skin. The groan Ray made at that seemed to come straight up from his toes, and his whole body shuddered once before it turned suddenly taut under Fraser's hands. And then Ray was biting hard into Fraser's shoulder as his orgasm hit him, stifling the abandoned cry that Fraser could feel vibrating in through the fabric of his uniform, burrowing deep into his skin.

God, Ray looked good like this, he looked perfectly edible, and Fraser licked at his face again, wanting to taste him, to feel the heat rising up from the surface of his skin. The air in the car seemed suddenly heavy, thick with the scents of sweat and sex, and Fraser breathed it in hungrily, wishing desperately that this moment would never end.

A faint stirring beneath him made him abruptly aware of his own unsatisfied arousal, and before he knew what was happening, Ray was pushing him back against the car door behind him, sliding up to cover him with an undeniable sense of purpose that was impossible to ignore. Fraser stared up at him in surprise, taking a moment to admire the strength that was harnessed in that unassuming body -- and he should know by now that Ray was more hardy than he seemed at first glance -- as determined hands burrowed up underneath his tunic and pulled purposefully at the fastenings of his pants.

"Ray..." he began, not sure quite what he intended to say, but Ray cut him off with a hard, almost violent kiss that effectively took any further words away.

"Shut up, Fraser." Ray's eyes were bright in the darkness, cheeks flushed with excitement as he worked his way in through the layers of Fraser's clothes with increasing frustration. Layers that, Fraser had always assumed, were designed to discourage exactly this kind of indulgence when officers of the RCMP were supposed to be on duty. "Do you have any idea how long I've been dreaming about getting into these pants of yours..."

Ray looked like a kid opening a present on Christmas morning, the favorite present that he'd saved for last and couldn't wait for for another minute. Fraser did what he could to oblige him, slouching back against the door and spreading his legs as wide as he could, taking advantage of what little space had been afforded them. He recognized in one dim corner of his mind that he was behaving in a very un-Mountie-like fashion at the moment, but it failed to restrain his growing ardor. The feel of Ray's hands on him was so wildly erotic that he didn't even notice when his head fell with a dull thunk against the window behind him.

"Jeez, finally," Ray muttered, and Fraser's hands clenched spasmodically over the edges of the seat as an impossibly warm mouth closed over the suddenly exposed length of his erection.

Oh, dear. Fraser squeezed his eyes tightly shut as his world was abruptly constricted to the point of overwhelmingly wet suction between his legs. Ray was exceedingly skilled at this, and Fraser had to rapidly revise his opinion that Ray had not previously been selecting male mates. Perhaps Ray had merely been unexpectedly discreet about his liaisons, and about his interest in partners of the same gender. Despite his own precautions, Fraser was beginning to suspect that Ray had known perfectly well that he favored men in general and this man in particular. Even their arguments from earlier that evening were beginning to seem somewhat like foreplay, in a typically Ray-like fashion.

It was like being devoured by the sun. Fraser heard a voice saying Ray's name over and over and over again, and he barely recognized it as his own through the hoarse sense of want and need and pleading that thrummed through it. He felt dizzy, lightheaded, anchored only by the agile body that lay heavily over his thighs and the insistent, delightfully talented mouth that was doing its best to suck what was left of his composure straight out through his cock.

Unlike Ray, he didn't have a shoulder handy to bite into when he came, and the sound of his cry echoed eerily in the car's interior when the pleasure he felt at last gathered its forces and lashed free within him. He thought he might have blacked out from the joy of it, and when he came to a moment later, it was almost too much for him when he realized that Ray was indeed licking him clean with soft, delicate little cat-licks that felt remarkably soothing against his softening flesh.

"Mmmmm," Ray said contemplatively as he slid up to lay against Fraser's chest, and Fraser had to admit that that summed up his own thoughts rather nicely. He looped an arm around Ray's shoulders and snuggled him close, pressing a grateful kiss to the spiky yet surprisingly soft hair at the top of his head. Ray's body molded against him like a second skin, and Fraser held on to him tightly, feeling strangely reluctant to let this moment end.

Still breathing heavily, he glanced back over his shoulder at the dimly lit entryway of the apartment they were supposed to be observing. Still no change, and he held back a faint sigh of relief, fighting the faint twinge of guilt that moved through him. Ray's body was limp as a dishrag on top of him, all of its former unbridled energy gone, and Fraser felt that this minor dereliction of duty had been well worth the results.

"You starting to regret anything?" Ray asked without raising his head. His voice was a soft breath of warmth against the side of Fraser's neck.

Fraser squeezed an arm around his shoulders and sighed contentedly. "No."

"Good." With an audible effort, Ray pushed himself up off of Fraser's chest and situated himself back on his own side of the car. The look he favored Fraser with was faintly mischievous as he tucked himself back into his jeans. "Because as soon as our relief gets here, I plan on taking you home with me so we can do this all over again. Preferably without a freakin' gear shift stabbing me in the ribs."

The thought made a warm flush of anticipation move through Fraser's body, and he returned Ray's smile as he saw to getting his own clothing to rights again. "That would be most agreeable," he said, thinking of what it would be like to have Ray with him, sans clothing, in a bed... The mental image almost made him groan aloud. And fast on the heels of that thought came the realization that Ray wanted there to be another time between them, that this hadn't been just a one-shot deal.

And judging by the light he saw brimming in Ray's eyes, there might be a whole future of "other times" ahead of them. The thought made Fraser's smile widen.

After all, there were some forces in this universe that just could not be resisted.

And Fraser knew better than to try.

The End
9/15/01

End Gravity by Rushlight: n_sanity75@hotmail.com

Author and story notes above.