With efficient precision, Fraser stacked several plates and bowls and was turning towards the small kitchen when Ray's voice reached him.

"Stupid, damned.... thing... frigg'n possessed...."

An odd crinkling noise underscored the frustrated and escalating mutterings cascading through the doorway. Just before Fraser poked his head around the door jam, he heard something hit the floor with a muffled "thunk".

"Ray?"

The blond cop pushed his hand through his hair. "It doesn't matter what I do, that stuff never works for me.  It deliberately sticks to itself! Or maybe the metal teeth go dull! Bet they see me coming and do it just for me!"

Fraser's eyes widened at his friend's tone and his insistence that inanimate objects were out to get him.

Setting the stack of dishes he was carrying down on the counter, Fraser bent down and picked up the elongated, rectangular box.  A mangled, crumpled, and half-torn sheet of the plastic wrap extended beyond the lid, perforated in a few places, but not very many.

"God, I hate that stuff."

"I hardly think it's deliberate, Ray," Fraser said, trying to hide a smile as he straightened and unkinked the wrap so he could make a clean tear.

"Huh, that's what you think, Mountie."

Cocking his eyebrow at Ray, Fraser jerked the hand holding the now-straightened wrap down with a smooth motion, tearing it smoothly, never breaking eye contact with Ray.

"Show off," Ray growled.

"Mounties do not show off, Ray.  We simply perform to specifications."

"Oh, pulleezz!  I suppose you always manage to seal those Ziplock baggies on the first try too, don't you, Fraze."

"Doesn't everyone?" he replied, flashing his patented Innocent Mountie look as he tore off an unsullied sheet of plastic wrap, avoided having it touch itself, and covered the leftovers tautly.

Ray stared at the now-wrapped container as if it was something he'd never seen before. Slowly, he turned to his friend. "That. Did. Not. Happen," he declared before snatching the box of wrap out of Fraser's hands.

Unfortunately for Ray, he grabbed the side of the box with the metal edge, and proceeded to swear profusely as the sharp tines bit into his skin. Instantly, he dropped the box.

"Ray, let me see that," Fraser began, scooping up the fallen box with swift precision as he stepped closer to his friend.

"No!" Ray protested. "I'm good. It's just a scratch." He swore again and began pacing. "Damn thing just stings, though. Man, I suck. I can't do anything right."

Fraser frowned at the self-depreciation as he set the box of Saran Wrap on the counter. Rubbing his eyebrow, he stated, "That's not true, Ray. There are a number of things that you do well."

"Oh yeah? Name one."

Fraser thought carefully, sensing a minefield behind the challenge. He studied his friend, who stood in the middle of the kitchen, arms crossed and waiting.

"See, I told you. You can't do it." Ray snorted and turned away. Snatching the now-covered bowl off the table, he nearly threw it into the refrigerator.

"Ray, I don't understand why you're so upset."

"It's just --" Ray began, frustration in his tone, one hand cupped in emphasis as he started to explain. Then he took a deep breath and exhaled it heavily. "Forget it, Frase. Just forget it," he told his friend in a suddenly weary voice.

Perhaps this was the Saran that broke the camel's back, but something else was clearly bothering Ray and precipitating this outburst. While it was well within Ray's character to put himself down, Fraser knew that he'd been doing so more today than usual.

Ray avoided Fraser's piercing look and dropped to one knee, sinking both hands into the fur around Dief's neck. Refusing to look back up at the tall Canadian, Ray grinned at Dief. "So, didja like the ham, furball? Always gotta have ham at Easter."

"Ray," Fraser began, only to be distracted by the almost shameless way Diefenbaker was relishing the neck scratch/rub. For a moment, Fraser was jealous of the attention his wolf was receiving. He shook himself, unwilling to let his mind traverse down that path. It was a futile exercise, one with no reward at its end, and yet...perversely, Fraser had found himself playing that game.

"You all right, Frase?" Ray stared at him in concern. Abruptly, Fraser realized he'd been caught staring at Ray's broad hands with their long fingers as they petted the wolf. "You look, I dunno, lost or somethin'."

"I'm fine," Fraser assured his friend. "How can I be lost when I'm standing right here?"

Ray rose to his feet, clearly unconvinced. "I dunno, Frase, but you go somewhere in your head sometimes and I can't follow you."

Now it was Fraser's turn to frown. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Ray."

No, you wouldn't understand, Ray thought. And I'm not sure if I want to explain, 'cause explaining might unwrap a box of dynamite. "Never mind, Fraser." He sighed and picked up the box of Saran Wrap, intending to put it back in the drawer where he usually stored it. Not wanting to grab it on the side where the cutting edge was, he ended up grabbing it from the lid side. Consequently, the roll of clingy plastic spilled out from its box, tumbling over towards the floor.

Fraser and Ray both dived for the roll at the same time. Honed reflexes in both men resulted in two very strong heads nearly bumping, two hands gripping in the same spot, touching. As it was, the proximity of the encounter caused them both to freeze.

The moment stretched on longer than it should have, and something new crept into the silence. Something as dangerous as fire and ten times more devastating. As Fraser stared into Ray's eyes, he felt it burning through him, saw it reflected in his friend's face, heard his heart pounding in his ears. He was acutely aware of the brightness of the kitchen, the slick feel of the Saran Wrap in his fingers, the heat of Ray's hand half over his own, the nearness of Ray's body. Every breath he took seemed to take on preternatural significance. Without knowing exactly how, Fraser knew this was why Ray had been acting oddly earlier.

Ray's gaze dropped to Fraser's mouth, and Fraser shivered with the look. As if that had been the cue they'd both been waiting for, Ray turned slightly and leaned forward. Fraser watched, hypnotized, as Ray's lips slowly moved to meet his.

Soft. Ray's lips were so soft.

The impression seared into Fraser's brain. Suddenly, Fraser craved more, needed to know if he returned the kiss, would Ray's lips still be as soft as that first, hesitant touch. Indulging in his curiosity only took the barest of movements, but the answer sent shock waves down to his groin. Fraser groaned against Ray's mouth.

Startled at the sound, Ray broke the kiss. The two men stared at each other, both breathing hard. The roll of Saran Wrap fell the floor, released by equally numb fingers. It hit the tile with a dull thunk.

"I...." Ray stopped, cleared his throat, and tried again. "I oughta pick that up," he whispered, his eyes never leaving Fraser's.

Fraser nodded in agreement. Kissing Ray was a crazy idea, but Fraser was afraid that if he spoke, the spell would be broken. He wasn't sure where this craving had come from; he'd noted that his friend was attractive, but he'd never explored the possibilities inherent in that acknowledgement. Now those possibilities were all he could contemplate.

Ray didn't move. He seemed trapped in the same magic as Fraser, and for one wild moment, Fraser wondered what they'd done to inspire such a beautiful curse. Because it was a beautiful curse to stand here, so close to Ray, knowing how he kissed, and wanting more, and being scared that if he said he wanted more, Ray would refuse.

Fraser took a half step forward, bringing himself closer to Ray. Ray's eyes went wide at the action. "Frase, I don't think--"

But Fraser wasn't in the mood for arguments. He took possession of Ray's mouth even as his hands brought Ray's body even closer to his own. Ray trembled under the passionate assault, and his reaction sent ripples of desire through Fraser. Reason fled in the heat of the lust driving him, and it seemed to have deserted Ray as well. Fraser needed to be closer, needed to feel Ray's skin against his own, needed to taste every inch of him with an intensity that, in some part of him that somehow remained detached from everything that was happening, shocked him. Fraser barely recognized his hands as they dispensed with Ray's shirt and jeans. All his senses were filled with the overload of Ray, and still it wasn't enough.

Someone moaned, and it sounded like his name. Fraser looked up -- how he'd gotten on his knees and Ray's cock in his mouth, he wasn't entirely certain -- and saw Ray's passion-glazed face. It turned him on even further, and he dared to flick his tongue across Ray's cock. Ray groaned helplessly, and reached for Fraser's head to press him closer. Willingly, Fraser accepted the silent demand, taking Ray's cock deeper into his throat and sucking him harder. It wasn't long before the salty, bittersweet taste of Ray's seed erupted in his mouth.

Shaken, Fraser pulled his mouth away from Ray as the other man sank to his knees. He stared at his -- lover? friend? What did he call Ray now? -- and tried to speak, but the emotions coursing through him were too thick. Fraser could see everything he was feeling reflected in Ray's eyes, as transparent as the Saran Wrap that lay unraveled not too far from them. Would this be the end of their friendship? Fraser wondered with sudden fear.

Then Ray smiled. "I didn't know you felt this way," he declared, his voice shaky with wonder, surprise, and pleasure.

Somehow, Fraser found his voice. "I didn't know either," he answered, none too steadily.

Ray's smile turned to a wicked grin. "I think this requires further investigation, don't you?"

"Oh, yes," Fraser agreed as solemnly as he could. Then Ray was kissing him, and all thoughts of hesitation vanished from his mind.

Ray pushed him until his back was on the floor and straddled him. His knee brushed the roll of plastic wrap as he started to settle on Fraser's body. For an endless moment, Ray paused, and Frase could see that an idea had flashed into Ray's mind. Picking up the Saran Wrap, Ray continued to smile. "Definitely have to figure out how to use this, don't you?" He bent down and licked Fraser's nipple, causing Fraser to arch up against him.

Fraser wasn't exactly sure where Ray was going with this idea, but the licking and the nearness of Ray's cock so close to his own was making him shiver with need. He murmured agreement, wanting anything, everything. Dimly, he heard the plastic rip.

"I think I got it figured," Ray announced a heartbeat later. Fraser's eyes went wide at the feel of the slick plastic so intimately on his skin, but then the sensation became a vivid counterpoint to his desire, and it was a long time before Fraser thought of anything else, too wrapped up in Ray to think.

***Finis***
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