Did Too
a due South F/K PWP by LynnZo
Written: November 24, 2000. Word count: 4,686
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Alliance, not me.  No copyright
infringement intended.
Author's Notes:  This story is Jane Austen's fault.  Really.  Anne and
I were discussing "Mansfield Park" yesterday, and I pointed out that
Ms. Austen tends to wimp out at what Anne calls the "payoff moment."
It never fails to irritate me that, after 47 chapters of UST, all we
get for dnouement between the two primary lovers in the book is "Edmund
did cease to care about Miss Crawford and became as anxious to marry
Fanny, as Fanny herself could desire."  I can't help but wish, in passing,
that she'd have had an editor to importune her, on the readers' behalf,
to spend more than one chapter unraveling all the wonderful plot twists
she'd introduced in the first 47 chapters.  I'm not asking for a sex
scene, but couldn't we have been given a *little* more than this? 

So, learned literary criticism of my betters aside, when I sat down to
write this, thinking that with a four-day weekend I should be able to
turn out a story, I felt obliged not to "fade to black."  The result
was rather more sex and less dialog than my usual, so: you've been warned.

Thanks to Anne for a somewhat reluctant beta during X-Files marathon
weekend. 

********

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

Ray unlocked the door to his apartment with more force than was actually
required, and stumbled in, still arguing.

"You did, Fraser; you licked it.  I saw it.  You picked up a rock.  From
the mud.  In an old house that's been abandoned to god-knows-what for
god-knows-how- many years and you.  Licked.  It."

Fraser followed him into the tiny hallway, had to turn sideways to close
the door behind them, since Ray had stopped dead still in the hallway
for this last salvo in an argument which had, so far, lasted forty minutes.
About standard.  He sighed.

"Ray, I merely smelled the rock.  I did not lick it.  And it's a fortunate
circumstance that I did smell it, because...."

Ray stopped him by sticking a hand in the middle of his chest and pushing.
Hard.  Pushed Fraser right up against the wall and held him there, glaring.
"Forget the case, Frase.  Admit that you licked it."

"Or what, Ray?"

"What, what?"

"Or what, Ray.  That sounded like a threat.  What are you going to do
if I don't admit it?"

Ray just looked at him.  Fraser continued, "Are you going to, what was
it, 'pop me one,' Ray?"  

And then a moment later he was sorry he'd said it, because Ray looked
ashamed, and the only rule in this argument game of theirs was that you
weren't allowed to actually hurt someone. 

Ray dropped the hand from Fraser's chest.  "No, Fraser, I'm not going
to hit you.  Not again."  And he started to turn away.

The mood in the hallway soured instantly, and Fraser, desperate, moved
quickly, catching at Ray's arm before he could step away.  "Then what,
Ray?" 

Ray looked back at him, remembered shame turning to suspicion.  "Why're
you pushing this, Fraser?"  He peered myopically at Fraser's face in
the dimness of the hallway.

"Did not, Ray."  And now Fraser was grinning at him. 

Fraser smiled, politely, a lot.  But he never grinned.  Not like this,
not playful, not teasing.  Not with anybody but Ray.  It made him very
nearly irresistible, and Ray suspected Fraser knew it, because he gave
Ray a sideways glance under his lashes, and Ray just *had* to step back,
hand going back to the middle of Fraser's chest to hold him in place,
even though Fraser hadn't moved. 

Then immediately battle was rejoined.  "Did too."

"Did not."

Ray was grinning back, helplessly, but warned, "This could go on forever,
Fraser, I could do this all night.  Did too."

"Did not."

"Admit it."

"Or what?"

But Ray was on his guard against this question now, and he took a beat
to pretend to consider it, fingers flexing idly against the warmth of
Fraser's shirt front.

Fraser waited, a little dizzy, and his feet felt far away, all his attention
focused on the hand holding him in place and the solid wall at his back.
He could feel each of Ray's fingers as they curled and stretched, caressed
almost idly, and under Ray's intense scrutiny he knew Ray felt it when
his heart skipped a bit, tripped and started to beat heavily.  Fraser
breathed deeply, as deeply as he could, pinned there, and flinched when
Ray took a half step back, braced his feet, and put more weight on the
arm linking him and Fraser.  The air was still around them, waiting.

Suddenly this didn't feel so much like a game.

"Last chance, Fraser.  Admit you licked the rock."  Ray's voice had gone
quiet, serious, but for all that, not really threatening.  There was
still an echo of a smile in his eyes, but Fraser knew he meant what he
said.  Ray was giving him a way out, all he had to do was nod and he
could back down from this, from...whatever had been building between
them since their "one more case" had turned into a real partnership,
gone to Canada on a case, then an extended vacation, and come home again.
Partners.

But Fraser was beyond that.  Beyond words, and he shook his head, slowly,
side to side, without breaking eye contact.  No.  No turning back.  "Did
not." 

And then the hand holding him was gone and before he could even miss
the weight of it, it was replaced by the solid force of Ray's chest,
hitting his and sticking tight, and the hand had moved up into his hair
and was curving against the back of his neck, pulling his head forward,
and he opened his mouth to breathe, and Ray kissed him.

Oh, dear.

* * * *

Ray felt Fraser pull back a bit, startled, when their lips met and he
hung on, knowing that if he didn't go through with this now, he might
never have the nerve again.  He knew Fraser wouldn't want it rough, though,
so he kissed him with all the sweetness and gentleness he could manage,
given that they were both gasping for breath already, and he could feel
the force of Fraser's heavy heartbeats echoing through his own body,
making them both shake.

He knew Fraser would stop him, would pull away, and so it wasn't hard
for Ray to just keep kissing, let himself get lost in it, his hand still
in Fraser's hair, but stroking now, loving the feel of it in his hand,
letting Fraser's body support both of them.  And at some point, it couldn't
have been more than a few seconds, Fraser did move, reached up with both
hands to hold Ray's head, and Ray pushed a little harder, knowing it
was ending, it was over, not ready yet to let go, and he heard himself
make a desperate whimper and didn't care.  Too soon, too soon.

But Fraser didn't pull away.  His hands reached into Ray's hair and flexed
tight, held tight, and then Fraser was tilting his head, and Ray went
with it, it was that or lose some hair, and Fraser was breathing hard
though his mouth and when Ray's head was tilted at just the angle he
wanted, Fraser simply pushed on Ray's jaw with his thumbs to open his
mouth and dived in, with tongue and teeth, and just took over.

It was wet and rough and it might have even hurt a little bit, but Ray
didn't know, didn't care, he was too busy freaking out.  This was Fraser,
Fraser who he'd thought about, wondered, finally decided - gentle, careful.
Only it was here, now, at last, and it wasn't gentle or careful at all,
it was hard and sloppy and anything but careful.  And it was unbelievably
hot.  He was already ready for anything, was humping Fraser's leg with
it, not knowing or caring, and when Fraser pulled his hands out of Ray's
hair he actually thought he might fall, and then everything tilted and
the wall was at his back, warm, solid, and Fraser's hand was pulling
his zipper down, reaching in, and Ray groaned in relief when Fraser took
him in hand and just *pulled*.

"Fraser..." he gasped, but it wasn't conversation, it was 'yes, please
more' and Fraser knew, because he gave Ray another one of those rough,
wet, not-careful kisses and pulled again, stripping Ray's cock with his
big, hot, rough hand and when he added a little twist at the end, Ray
thought he might have screamed a little into Fraser's mouth because he
could feel Fraser grinning at him again, and Ray braced both hands on
Fraser's shoulders, arched his back, and just came.  All over Fraser,
and himself, letting everything wash away on the pleasure, squeezing
his eyes so tight he saw stars.

And if he thought it might have been over, if he'd been able to think,
that is, he would have been surprised when Fraser just let him fall,
guided him to the ground, laying flat out on the floor, and started pulling
his clothes off him.  Ray lay still, breathing, trying to recover, to
get his head around this new Fraser, this different Fraser, who apparently
didn't need it gentle, or careful, but who was stripping Ray and himself
with Mountie efficiency, and Ray's eyes fastened on Fraser's groin when
he pulled off his pants, and Fraser was still hard, so ready he was leaking,
and Ray felt a sudden dryness in his throat, wanting to taste.  And then
he had a moment of panic, of shock at himself, wanting that, wanting
to taste that.  He'd thought, sure, wondered, fantasized maybe, but had
never expected to feel so *hungry,* and he glanced up at Fraser's determined
face, wanting to tell, to explain.

New Fraser didn't seem to care what Ray wanted, didn't ask anyway, he
was rolling up Ray's discarded shirt and tucking it considerately under
his head to cushion it a bit from the hard wooden floor, and then he
just dived in again, kissing and kissing, and then his whole body came
down on Ray's and Ray jumped at the shock, he'd forgotten how that felt,
how long had it been since he'd had a nude body against his own?  He
didn't remember, didn't care, but this, this was new and utterly overwhelming.
Fraser.  It was Fraser whose cock was digging a hole in his hip, whose
lips were chewing on his neck, whose breath was scalding him, and Ray
couldn't help it, he could feel himself already starting to get hard
again, and he struggled with the languor, pulled his heavy arms up from
the floor to wrap them around Fraser, to hold tight.

Fraser was moving against him, hips pumping in a rhythm that Ray caught
immediately.  This was okay, this was *fine* and he'd forgotten how *good*
friction was between two bodies, and he stroked down Fraser's back, wet
now with sweat and exertion, and when Fraser groaned into his neck, Ray
got a little braver and moved his hands lower to cup Fraser's ass, to
hold him there.  This was his fantasy, only harder, and hotter, and he
pulled Fraser *hard* to try and control this, to make his thrusts harder,
deeper, slower, just the way Ray liked them, and Fraser shuddered and
cried out a little and came against his hip, shaking with it.

Now it had to be over, Ray thought, and he waited a bit while Fraser
breathed, giving him a minute to recover, rubbing his back a little,
soothing.  But he'd forgotten for a minute, this wasn't Old Fraser, polite
Fraser, who was likely to apologize for coming on him, this was New Fraser,
and he was nothing like the old one.  Fraser was still breathing heavy,
but he pushed himself up on his hands and kissed Ray quickly, hard, on
the lips, and then he was kissing all over Ray's face; quick kisses,
hard kisses, and Ray just lay there and breathed, getting used to this
New Fraser all over again.  Especially when New Fraser pushed himself
down Ray's body, fastened both his hands on Ray's nipples, and sucked
his half-hard cock in his mouth in one smooth motion.

Ray couldn't help it, he screamed, and his throat felt a little sore
and he wondered briefly if he'd been screaming before, but that all went
away when Fraser started sucking, and twisting his nipples, and generally
pushing Ray beyond where Old Fraser would have ever gone, until Ray was
groaning with every breath and even maybe shouting a bit when Fraser
pulled his mouth off Ray's cock, replacing it with the same warm, rough
hand that had known so well what to do before.  But he wasn't stopping,
even if Ray had had the breath to ask, he was just shouldering his way
between Ray's outstretched legs to nuzzle his balls and his hand knew
the right rhythm, the same rhythm as before, and Ray was floating on
it, riding it, and when Fraser just reached under him and stroked one
finger right into his ass, Ray shot all over him, just like before only
different, because it was alright now, he knew Fraser had it covered.

When he had breathed enough to raise his head this time, Ray looked down
to find Fraser still intent, hand rubbing him softly, gentling him, even
though his own breathing was still ragged, and Ray looked down further
and saw that Fraser was hard again, as hard as he'd been the first time,
and before he knew it he was reaching down to pull Fraser up, to kiss
him again, and maybe to taste, like he'd wanted before.  

Fraser came eagerly, willingly, but he left his right hand where it was
and it took the sudden clenching of not-quite-pain to let Ray know Fraser's
finger was still inside him, still buried in his ass.  And while Ray
was still dealing with this, with the feeling of someone's finger actually
*inside* him, New Fraser had taken him over again, was reaching under
his head to cradle his skull, and was kissing him and pulling him up
against his chest, so that Ray was half-leaning on Fraser's warm chest
and half-sitting on Fraser's...on Fraser's *hand,* somehow, and Fraser's
finger was *moving* inside him, and then he hit a spot that sent sensation
rocketing through Ray and convulsed his body.  Ray wasn't small, he and
Fraser were about the same height, but he was slimmer, leaner, and when
Fraser held him easily, supporting him with just his left arm and shoulder
while his right hand sent Ray reeling, Ray had a moment to be grateful
for Mountie conditioning, for Fraser's solidity, for his steadiness.

After an undetermined time when Ray's world had narrowed to just the
space where Fraser's finger...ooh, fingers were inside him, stroking
him, pushing him 'way beyond anything he had even fantasized about, he
felt Fraser pulling him up and went greedily, expecting another one of
those wet kisses, but Fraser slowed his fingers inside Ray and then stopped
moving altogether, and Ray pulled himself together enough to focus.

"Wha...?  Frase?"  His voice was desperate, ragged, thin, and Ray breathed
hard a second, resting his head on Fraser's, reaching for control.

"Ray."  Oooh, Fraser's voice wasn't much better.  He sounded just as
desperate.  "May I..?"

Ray couldn't help it, he was lying on the floor, covered in sweat and
come and Fraser and *now* the guy was asking permission?  Now?  After
all this?  And he had to laugh a little, even though it wasn't much,
and he nodded his head up against the side of Fraser's and said, "Yeah.
Yes.  Anything.  Anything you want."  And in a minute he'd get up enough
breath to ask Fraser what he was asking, what he wanted, but in the meantime
Fraser's fingers twitched a little inside him, just once, and Fraser
rubbed his erection hard against Ray's hip, and Ray, caught off-guard,
gasped and clutched even harder at Fraser, arousal flaring again -- still
-- always, it felt like forever they'd been laying there, always, always
on the edge of orgasm, and Fraser twisted his fingers again and laid
Ray back down on the floor, and they were off and running.  Again. 

Only this time it was different, because Fraser had pulled his fingers
out now, and Ray felt abandoned for a second, his ass loose and wet and
strange, but Fraser's hands were on him, shoulder and hip, and he was
turning Ray over and pulling at the same time, and Ray ended up face-down,
and Fraser was moving behind him and still pulling, and by the time Ray
realized where Fraser was and what he was doing, Fraser's cock had already
landed, hard and hot and wet, up against the crack of his ass, and that
was so shocking that Ray just reached out with both hands and grabbed
some of their discarded clothing and held on. 

This?  This was what he'd been asking?  What Ray'd said yes to?  "Fraser!"
he gasped out, and this time it meant, not so fast, slow down, let me
think, but it was too late, he'd already said yes, and New Fraser wasn't
the type to slow down, Ray had learned that well.  And New Fraser had
positioned himself and he was pushing, pushing, not rough but relentless,
and Ray shocked himself again by loving it, needing it instantly even
though he'd never dreamed of this part, of wanting it even though it
hurt some, and the clothes were slippery on the wooden floor and he kept
losing his balance.  But Fraser had him, his arms strong around Ray's
waist, and he kept pushing until he was all the way inside, and Ray could
feel his body close against his own, joined as closely as they could
be.  And now, at last, Fraser stopped a minute, and just held him there,
breathing hard.  Ray felt Fraser's lungs working hard to pull in air,
tucked tight up against his back, and he wondered, briefly, what this
must feel like to Fraser.  To be buried so deep inside.  Inside, he felt
his body clutch, and flex, and Fraser gasped helplessly above him.  Grinning
a little, Ray flexed again, and he loved it when Fraser shuddered.

"Ray!  Ray, easy.  Easy," Fraser gasped out, and then he started moving.
Slowly, deeply, and when he went out and came in again he hit that same
spot inside that had sent Ray away before, and Ray felt it coming and
he just rode it again, the pleasure cresting and falling as Fraser moved
in him.  The hard floor was forgotten, the fact that he'd come already
-- what, twice? -- was forgotten, there was nothing but the heat, and
the pressure, and the pleasure of Fraser moving inside him, until it
got to be too much for both of them and they exploded, Fraser first and
then Ray, when Fraser pulled him up to sit almost upright astride him,
Fraser's softening cock almost a tickle inside him, and brought one hand
around to strip Ray's cock once, twice, three times, and then whispering,
"Come on Ray, come for me," in his ear as Ray came again on that same
rough, capable hand that had been on and inside his body forever, forever.

***

Ray opened his eyes and peered at the ceiling.  Bed ceiling.  Bedroom.
Oh yeah, Fraser'd dragged him up, finally, from the hallway floor and
they'd stumbled together into the bedroom and collapsed.  He reached
out, but the bed was empty.  Time?  He rolled over, moaning, and peered
at the bedside clock.  12:07.  Midnight?  Noises in the other room dragged
him out of bed, cursing a little as he sat up, and he stumbled out to
find....Fraser.  Old Fraser.  Definitely Old Fraser, who had already
cleaned up the hallway, because there were his clothes, neatly folded
on the chair, and who had already taken a shower, because his head was
wet and he was wearing Ray's bathrobe.  And who was cooking, stirring
something industriously in a pan on the stove.

Cooking? At midnight?  Ray felt a little hung-over, his elbows were sore
for some reason he didn't even want to think about, and he was definitely
disoriented.  What had happened to the other Fraser?  

"You're cooking?"  He knew his voice sounded lost, shaky, but felt instantly
more grounded when Fraser turned and smiled.  Smiled, somehow, with his
whole face.  

"Ray!  You're up!"  And he turned immediately away from the stove and
came over to Ray, who took sudden half-step backwards, irrationally afraid
that the New Fraser would jump him again, and not feeling up to it right
now.  But Fraser just reached out and rubbed his upper arms firmly, friendly,
and steered him towards the bathroom.  "Have a shower, Ray.  Supper will
be ready when you're finished."

And Ray dumbly went, not needing to take off his clothes because he wasn't
wearing any, and stood under the shower, hot, until his brain started
to come awake again.  He soaped himself thoroughly, wondering again about
his elbows, decided to ask Fraser about it, decided against it while
he brushed his teeth and combed his hair, and then realized that Fraser
had taken his robe.  He shrugged, not much need for modesty now, but
somehow didn't want to wander out naked, and settled for a towel around
his hips.

When he emerged, Fraser was dishing something that actually smelled kind
of good up onto two plates, so Ray went into the bedroom for a pair of
clean jeans and then came back out to claim his plate.   "Spaghetti?
You made spaghetti?  At midnight?"  But he took a large bite and chewed
happily.

Fraser took a more judicious bite and he, of course, managed to do so
without getting one drop of spaghetti sauce on his lips.  Ray watched
him chew for a minute and had a sudden, irrational desire to stick his
hand in the plate of spaghetti and rub it all over Fraser's face, really
mess him up.  And then to lick it all off again.  

"Ahem."  Fraser's sudden noise let him know he was staring, and Ray jerked
his eyes up guiltily to Fraser's, feeling his face redden.

"'Ahem,' Fraser?  Nobody actually says 'ahem'."

"Well, I just did, Ray, so obviously someone does."

Ray felt that this conversation might quickly become embarrassing, so
he changed the subject.  "What're we standing around in the kitchen for?
I got chairs," and he led the way to the couch and flopped down, leaving
a good third of the couch for Fraser.

At least, that was the plan.  As soon as his backside hit the couch,
it came back off again, and somehow Fraser's hand was there to take the
plate of spaghetti as Ray put both hands down and eased himself more
gingerly down onto the couch cushions.  He glared at Fraser, "If you
laugh, Frase, I'm going to have to hurt you," and took his plate back.

Fraser wasn't laughing.  "Ray.  Are you...injured?"

In spite of the embarrassment, Ray grinned at him a bit around his next
bite of  spaghetti.  "Nah.  Just sore.  Sit."

And Fraser sat, primly as always in direct contrast to Ray's sprawl,
and delicately ate his spaghetti, one neat bite after the other.  Ray
watched him, contentment winning out over the soreness in his butt. 
This Fraser he knew, this Fraser could probably win a pie-eating contest
with his hands tied behind his back and never get a speck on him.  But
the other Fraser, New Fraser, he was different.  He'd gotten hot, and
sweaty, and 'way beyond messy, and he'd taken Ray there with him.

Thinking about that other Fraser made his cheeks flush, and of course
at that moment Fraser put down his perfectly clean plate and looked over
at him.  

"Ray.  You're looking very...flushed.  You must have taken a very hot
shower."  And that was so...so *Fraser* not to even know when a guy was
sitting there thinking really dirty thoughts about him, that Ray just
had to try and get under his skin about it.

"Yeah.  Well, I was plenty dirty, there, Frase."

And he watched with real, uncomplicated pleasure while the tips of Fraser's
ears turned red, and he said, "I'm.  Um.  Sorry about that, Ray."

He knew it.  He'd *known* it.  Known that Fraser'd be apologizing sometime.
But Ray wasn't in the mood to be charitable.  He didn't let up, not a
bit.  "You *jumped* me, Fraser.  What was up with that?"

And he finished his spaghetti and put the slimy, messy, sauce-smeared
plate defiantly right on top of Fraser's clean one.  Together, just like
him and Fraser in the hallway.  He hoped Fraser got that.

Fraser looked even more uncomfortable when Ray relaxed back against the
arm of the couch and looked at him expectantly.  "Spill it, Fraser. 
You had it covered.  I wanna know why."

"Well, Ray, I.  Ah.  It was just that I didn't think.  Ever. And then
when you...."

Fraser was so embarrassed his whole *face* had turned red, now, all the
way down into the vee of Ray's bathrobe.  Ray couldn't help but take
pity on the poor guy.  "You mean, you didn't think we'd ever just *do*
it.  And when I kissed you, you got kinda greedy."  Ray knew that feeling,
knew it well.  There at the end, when he and Stella'd, well, when she'd
let him, he'd felt the same.  Greedy, like it might be all he ever got.

Fraser looked really relieved.  "Yes, Ray.  I wanted, had wanted."  He
stopped to swallow heavily.  "And when you didn't want to stop, I lost
control."  He looked over at Ray, and reached out one tentative hand
to touch.  Ray stuck a leg out and let Fraser rub it.  It felt good.

"I know I pushed you.  I should never have..."  Another heavy swallow.
"I should have stopped."

Ray let his head fall back on the arm of the couch and couldn't help
smiling.  As much as he'd liked the New Fraser, he liked this one more,
if only for the anticipation of pushing him past this politeness again
sometime really soon so he and New Fraser could go at it all over again.
Maybe with a new twist, next time.

"Did I say stop?  I don't remember saying stop," he said mildly, watching
Fraser's hand rub up and down his calf.  "You'd done that before, though,
hadn't you."

It wasn't really a question, or maybe it was, but Fraser reddened again
anyway.  "Not for.  A long time."

"Years?"  Maybe he was thinking about Vecchio.  Ray thought maybe he
was, but he wanted to know so he asked it anyway.

And Fraser understood, because he looked at him and shook his head, once.
"Years.  Before my father."  He swallowed.  "Before I came to Chicago."

"That thing with your father.  That really messed you up, didn't it?"

"Yes, Ray.  It did."

"But it's over now."

Fraser nodded, and looked sad.

Ray thought a minute.  "So, that wasn't really New Fraser at all, was
it?  More like, Old Fraser, come back again."

Surprise.  Fraser'd been more focused on the feel of Ray's leg under
his hand than the conversation, but this confused him.  "New Fraser?"

But Ray was shaking his head, shaking it off.  "Never mind.  The thing
is, Frase.  I, uh.  I wouldn't mind if he came out again.  You know,
sometime." 

"You wouldn't?"  Fraser felt a little light-headed.

Ray was smiling, still.  "Yeah."  He came up off the couch with one graceful
move and snagged the plates, carrying them into the kitchen and yawning
hugely.  "I need sleep, Frase."  He wandered towards the bedroom, then
stopped, one eyebrow raised, obviously waiting for Fraser to follow.

Fraser did, a little off-balance, watched Ray pull off his jeans and
climb nude into the bed, move over and make room for him.  He shrugged
out of Ray's robe, folded it tidily on the chair, and turned back to
find Ray laughing at him.  "Ray?"

But Ray shook his head and reached out to snap off the bedside lamp.
He looked so comfortable, obviously used to going to bed with a lover.
Fraser lowered himself into the bed gingerly, feeling all knees and elbows,
and was rewarded when Ray snuggled easily up against him.  He reached
out a tentative arm and gathered Ray to him, not relaxed yet, but not
as embarrassed as he'd expected.  Ray made it easy.  Ray had made it
all easy, and Fraser felt a wave of gratitude for all he'd been given.
For the pleasure, and the trust, and the friendship and the partnership.
He jerked a crick out of his neck decisively, enough of that.  He *must*
be tired; he was getting maudlin.  "Ray."  He said suddenly. 

Ray snuffled and snorted, obviously getting comfortable and not too interested
in conversation.  "Hmmm?"

"You were right.  Before.  I did lick the rock."

He could feel Ray's grin against his own skin.  "Told you."

"Yes, Ray.  Yes, you did."

"Next time, admit it.  Or I may have to get rough with you again." 

Fraser smiled, and relaxed.  Sleep sounded like a very good idea.  And
then... 

"Yes, Ray."

They slept.

***the end***

Ending notes:
1. Yes, I know there should be condoms.  And more lube than I've implied.
This is fiction, remember?
2. Thanks to Laura for pointing out that Fraser would say "May I" rather
than "Can I".  She was right, so I took the opportunity to make this
change when I uploaded the story to the archive.  I also cleaned up another
couple of typos that had snuck in.