Title: Hands

Author: necessary angel

Pairing: BF/RK

Rating: NC17 for m/m slash and pretty, pretty and mild kink.

Spoilers: Maybe vague suggestions for Odds if you were being really picky.

Disclaimer: Alliance's not mine and I am *not* getting over that.

Feedback: You know I like it necessary_angel@yahoo.com

Notes: This one is entirely my friend K's fault ... he dropped the subject of men wearing nail varnish into an otherwise innocent conversation at work. No beta so read at your own risk.

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Hands

by

necessary angel

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"Ray."

No response at all, Fraser drops his keys back in his jacket pocket and walks in.

"Ray."

It was far too quiet in the apartment. Fraser might almost believe that his partner

wasn't at home but for the GTO parked outside and light shining under the bathroom door.

"Ray!"

A slight click and then silence from the bathroom.

"Ray are you alright?"

He pushes his hand against the bathroom door and then stops.

"Yeah Ben I'm fine. Be with ya in a minute."

His hand is still pressed against the cool wood, Fraser forces himself to move it back to his side.

"Well if you're sure?"

"Yeah I'm sure, now just park yerself."

A little pause and a muffled tap-tap before Ray continues, "There's tea in the kitchen if ya want it."

***********************************

That little click as the door opens is what Fraser was waiting for and

he is standing, turning so that he can see Ray almost before the sound actually registers.

"Yer kinda eager."

That's the closest thing to a whole body smirk that Fraser has ever seen or heard.

"That isn't a problem is it, Ray."

Moving closer now because he still hasn't seen.

There.

Rumpled shirtsleeves rolled up, suspenders. No tie or shoulder holster Fraser

notes with the very small part of his mind that isn't looking for Ray's hands.

There.

Bright red flash at the end of the long fingers braced against the door frame.

"So you did..."

"Ya didn't think I wouldn't." Soft eyes despite the almost visible snort. "Look both hands."

Thin fingers flexing; skin white, pale as his own looks,

against the smooth slashes of shining red.

"Mountie red too."

That was too much and Fraser snaps back from just looking and opens his mouth.

Ray shakes his head and strokes one hand down Fraser's arm.

Fraser's jaw clicks shut.

"No talking, remember."

Fraser nods.

Ray leans in and brushes his mouth against Fraser's. He moves into it but the teasing touch is gone.

A little push and Fraser is walking back towards the couch, sitting.

A click and the light from the lamp burns against his dark adjusted eyes. Blink and Ray is leaning against

the counter when he can see again.

Two heartbeats, three and Ray's fingers move to his shirt buttons. Red against crumpled gray is all

Fraser can see until the fingers stop. Gray and that red against pale skin and Fraser is dizzy.

Whisper and scrape as the red drags the gray cotton edges apart. Fraser shouldn't able to hear it but he can.

Shouldn't be able to feel it but he can. He closes his eyes rubbing one hand over his chest as if that could

help him find some air.

"Look at me."

Fraser shakes his head.

"Look at me." Ray's voice raw and husky but Fraser hears Lieutenant Welsh in every syllable.

His eyelids feel like they are made of stone but a blink and they are open.

Red against drum tight pale skin and he couldn't close his eyes even if Ray commanded it.

The too light drag of Ray's fingers against the points of his own nipples makes Fraser's hands twitch and

he curls them into the couch. The tighter second twist makes his hands ache but Fraser only pushes into the

couch with his fists. He daren't reach down to ease the pressure of his jeans against his trapped erection.

This has barely started.

Barely started and Fraser is already nothing but nerves and the pulse of himself against well-worn denim.

Ray's hands are moving again, down this time, a sharp red edge tracing the perimeter of his navel.

One hand moves and presses against the aching bulge in his jeans. Fraser pushes up against that pressure,

shaking as the heat shivers up his spine.

Ray stops.

Fraser nods and somehow moves his hand away.

The red tipped fingers move again, this time to the buckle and leather of Ray's belt

and Fraser feels all the air leave his body in a noise only this man ever drags from him.

The growl stills those fingers just for a couple of accelerated heartbeats but that is far too long and

Fraser clamps his teeth into his lower lip.

A quick soft smile creases his partner's face and then Fraser has to look away

from the gold glitter in the narrowed eyes. The clink of metal as the belt releases is reason enough.

The red-tipped fingers are shaking but Fraser barely has time to take comfort from that before they are

wrapped around the long length of Ray's cock. Fraser could move now. Ray's head is thrown back.

The long arc of his body only broken by the steady thrust and roll of his hips as Ray pumps into his hand.

Fraser could move but he doesn't.

The scrape and pull of cloth over his straining flesh flashing enough pain in the warm rush of watching

this to keep Fraser's eyes open and his hands still.

Ray is groaning now "Oh fuck... that's it."

His hips hammering a desperate rhythm that Fraser knows only too well. One last almost impossible arch

and Ray is there, pulsing fluid over his long fingers.

Fraser moves, he is on his feet before Ray's body relaxes back.

"That what ya wanted."

Fraser stops.

Ray pushes his still slick fingers against Fraser's mouth. Fraser licks, swirling his tongue

over the smeared red tip.

He nods, the game's only just started.

END