Ready Set Go      Ready Set Go

 by Pearl-o

  

 Author's website: http://pearlo.illuminatedtext.com

 Disclaimer: 

 Author's Notes: Thank you to Nifra for encouragement and beta.

 Story Notes: 

 

 

 I. RAY 

 The first time Ray and Stella made it, he was seventeen, she was sixteen,
and her parents were gone out of town for the weekend. That was just
asking for it, in Ray's opinion. Or in his opinion later, at least,
because back then he would've been hard pressed to have a coherent thought
about anything but Stella's neon pink miniskirt cut up to here and the way
she'd been licking her lips and giving him looks in the hallway all week
and just the fact that this was it, no turning back, her and him, together
and always. 

 Ray was nervous. All sweaty and stupid from the time he got to her house,
which was dumb because this was Stella, right? His Stella, and it was just
like always, really. Mostly. But Stella looked just as nervous when she
opened the door and let him in, which actually made him feel better in
some twisted logic thing. 

 She smiled at him, almost shylike -- which was never Stella, she was not
shy, she knew exactly who she was and what she wanted -- and she led him
up to her pretty blue bedroom with the damn canopy. And then it was okay,
all of a sudden, because this wasn't anything new, just making out on
Stella's bed like they had done eight million times before. 

 And after a while they were both pretty much just in their underwear,
kissing and groping and Ray had his hand in her panties where she was all
wet and slick and hot and Stella made this little noise under him and
said, "Ray." 

 He stopped what he was doing and looked at her and she just nodded. 

 "You sure you're ready?" Ray's voice cracked a little in the middle. But
that was okay, because he was pretty impressed he could even manage that,
with the way his heart was ready to burst out of his chest. 

 "I'm ready," Stella said firmly. "Now. Do it." 

 Stella had taken the bus down to Planned Parenthood with one of her
girlfriends and gotten the pill business all settled, but she made him use
a condom anyway, because you never knew. It was messy and exciting and
over way too quick, but they did it again later that night and it was
better. And once Stella wasn't sore they did it even more, and it kept
getting better and better, and maybe that was one of the reasons Ray never
saw any of it coming. How could things be that bad, how could they have no
chance when they could still move like that, feel like that, know each
other like that? When it was still so good? 

 The last time they did it was almost twenty years after the first time.
Stella had already kicked him out, one of those "stupid lapses" she always
apologized for the next day. He made her come as many times as he could
with his fingers and his mouth before she made him stop. She pushed him
onto his back and straddled him, and he watched her ride him, fucking
gorgeous as ever, and it was just like old times, him and Stella, always
and forever. 

 Except afterwards she couldn't look him in the eye and she scooted away
subtlely every time he tried to curl around her or hold her in the bed,
until he finally just came out and asked it, whether she wanted him to
leave. And that relieved look in her eyes wasn't the sort of thing you
could just forget, so Ray went back to his crummy apartment and slept in
his crummy bed alone. 

 And that was that. Even if Ray didn't still didn't want to admit it to
himself for a long time after.	

 The red light was taking way too long to pass, in Ray's opinion, but
apparently traffic lights didn't give a damn about his opinion, who knew?
He tapped his hands thoughtfully against the wheel and looked over at
Fraser in the passenger seat -- he was in normal clothes, not the uniform,
because it'd been a fun day. A relaxed day. A halfway normal day. He was
looking out the window and not at Ray. 

 Ray bit his lip -- the hell with it. "Hey, Fraser." 

 "Yes, Ray?" Fraser turned his head to him, all attentive. 

 They'd gone to the park and out to eat for dinner and then really
whatever they'd thought of -- it felt good, not just
hanging-out-with-Fraser good, but a wicked kind of good, too, like even
though it was Sunday and a day off they were really playing hooky, like
they were getting away with something. 

 It made Ray think stuff. Stuff he'd been thinking for a while now, far
enough back that he wasn't sure even when it had started, when it had
stopped being Stella about who he was thinking. 

 Ray said, "Do you think people can have, you know, two real loves?" 

 He'd had a lot of time to think this over lately -- too much time, too
much everything, because one thing Ray knew about himself was he never
learned -- and he gestured vaguely to help Fraser get what he was saying.
"Not just anything, I mean, but big time, high stakes, love of your life.
The works. You think it can strike twice?" 

 Fraser looked straight ahead, through the windshield, and his face had
changed, so now he didn't have much of an expression at all. He said real
quiet, "I'm not entirely certain that can be achieved once, Ray." 

 "Ah," said Ray, "yeah, okay." He was still thinking that over when the
light turned green. 

 He guessed that was it then, the end of it, because how much more
clear-cut an answer was he expecting? 

 Ray watched Fraser a little out of the corner of his eye while he drove,
but Fraser didn't say a word or look over or anything. Nothing. Not even a
hint that he even knew what Ray had been saying, just the same plain mask
of concentration. It was annoying, kind of, because it wasn't like it was
too much to ask. 

 Ray knew all about asking for too much. 

 He parked at the curb in front of the Consulate. Fraser looked up then,
almost surprised that they'd arrived, and started getting himself
together. "Thank you kindly for the ride, Ray," he said, and he opened the
door, but Ray's belly was feeling heavy and his chest was aching with he
didn't even know what. 

 "Wait," Ray said. 

 Fraser stopped, just looked at him, and Ray placed his hand on Fraser's
shoulder. Held it there while he leaned forward slow and kissed him. There
was a long moment where Fraser didn't respond, didn't move at all, not
leaning into it or even jerking away. 

 So Ray was ready to pull away -- leave the nice Mountie alone and stop
molesting him -- when Fraser's hands came up and cupped each side of his
jaw, held him there as he kissed the hell out of him. 

 Ray was breathing heavy when they moved apart. Fraser was looking at him
now at least, right at him like he could see all the way through. His face
was pale and his eyes were serious. 

 "Fraser," Ray said. He pinched the cloth on Fraser's shoulder between his
thumb and finger and said, "Fraser. Come to my apartment." 

 Another of those endless moments, and Ray's brain raced through all the
different things Fraser might say ("Tomorrow's a work day" and "I don't
want to" and "I'm flattered, Ray, but...") then -- yes! -- Fraser finally
nodded. "All right, Ray," he said, his voice low and all kinds of raspy,
and he closed the car door again. 

 Ray felt unsteady the whole way home, shaky. Like he was resting all his
weight at the edge of the stairs and he didn't know yet if there was
another step there to catch him, or if he was just going to fall on his
ass. 

 Fraser didn't touch him while he drove, but Ray could feel his eyes on
him, and that didn't help the shivery feeling any. He turned to Fraser as
soon as he got the car settled in and parked -- Fraser surprised him by
moving right into his space, pressing his lips hard against Ray's mouth
and then nipping Ray's lower lip between his teeth. 

 Ray pushed him away, sucking in a deep breath, and he squeezed Fraser's
hand once quick and then climbed out of the car as fast as he could.
Fraser was following him inside, he could feel him there behind him --
they didn't even have to talk, Fraser was there with him like always.
Fraser was right there with him and when they got to the apartment Ray
slammed the door shut and pushed him against the wall. 

 "I want you," Ray said, pushing their hips together, pressing Fraser,
pinning him down. And he was serious, as serious as he'd ever been in his
life. 

 Fraser nodded again, and he put his hands on Ray's waist and said "Yes"
and Ray took that as a sign that it was time to kiss him till one or both
of them forgot their names. 

 Ray stuck his hands under Fraser's shirt, skimming over the warm warm
skin on his back and his side, and Fraser jerked his head out of the kiss,
looking to the side. 

 "Fraser?" Ray said, stopping his hands, but it was okay, because Fraser
just took a shaky breath and came back, kissing Ray's neck, sucking on it,
marking. 

 "Yeah, yeah," said Ray, "come on," and he took a step backward and pulled
on Fraser's shirt and Fraser followed him like a zombie all the way to the
bedroom. 

 "Come on, come on," Ray said again, and he let go of Fraser and moved
back, throwing his shirt off his head and slipping his jeans and underwear
off. Fraser was looking at him, dark and desperate, still fully-clothed,
looking at Ray's chest and his hard cock but mostly his face, and Ray had
to sit down hard on the edge of the bed. 

 Fraser looked away from him, not catching Ray's eye as he took off his
shirt and pants. Ray's voice cracked as he said, "Fraser--" and he tried
to remember just how long it had been since he wanted somebody this damn
much. 

 And then Fraser was naked, too, and he pushed Ray gently down onto the
bed and climbed on top of him, and that was it, they were too far gone,
there was nothing to do but move and thrust and touch. Ray rolled them
over so he was on top, got his hand around Fraser's cock and jerked him
off hard and fast. He watching Fraser's face, all scrunched up like he was
in pain, like one of those dying saints or something, and Fraser said
"Ray" and then he made a hoarse cry and there was come all over Ray's hand
and Fraser's belly. 

 Ray moaned, let go, dropped all his weight onto Fraser -- Fraser should
take it, yeah -- and he kissed Fraser wildly, kissing every part of his
face, biting, gnawing, rubbing his cock all over Fraser's skin. It all
felt good, all of it, and Fraser watched him with -- was that hunger? And
when Fraser said his name again, Ray came, too. 

 He slid off Fraser's body and he lay on his side, facing him. Fraser
turned to face him, too, looking straight into his eyes, and his hand came
out and stroked slowly down the side of Ray's face. It felt good, as good
as all the rest, maybe, and he was still doing it when Ray fell asleep,
Fraser still there with him in his bed.  II. FRASER 

 Their combined mess was still on Fraser's skin when he awoke -- cooled
now, thick and sticky on his chest and stomach. He extracted himself from
the bed carefully and quietly; in the bathroom he scrubbed with a
washcloth until he tingled with clean. He splashed water over his face and
gave himself a long look in the mirror above the sink. 

 Back in the bedroom Ray was still asleep, effortlessly sprawled out on
the bed, the space Fraser had so recently occupied already reclaimed by
his body -- as if he had never been there at all. Fraser's clothes were
still on the floor where they'd been abandoned earlier in the evening. He
dressed quickly in the dark. 

 Outside the light had the curious quality that only ever occurred in the
last few hours between midnight and dawn. While Fraser walked to the
Consulate, he thought about the difference of the feeling in the city
during these early, abandoned hours of the morning. He thought about where
the constellations would be overhead if the Chicago city lights allowed
greater visibility. Stars -- strange to think of all those individual
suns, so many millions of miles away, the heavenly bodies floating in
space... He thought of the laws of gravitation: the greater the mass, the
greater the gravitational field exerted. Inconceivably massive stars, full
of light and brightness and heat, pulled on everything with their
inconceivably compelling orbits. 

 He didn't think of anything else. 

 Dief was lying in the corner when Fraser arrived back in his room; he
lifted his head from the floor and made an inquiring remark, but Fraser
ignored him and sat down on the edge of the cot to remove his jacket and
shoes once again. He lay down on his back and watched the ceiling until it
was time to begin the day. 

 Dief barked pointedly when Fraser rose. 

 "Yes, well, I'm sorry. I didn't know I would be out so late," Fraser said
sharply. "I can assure you it won't happen again." 

 Dief looked him for a moment, then got up and walked over to Fraser and
sniffed him obviously. He made another inquiring noise. 

 "Ray is a good friend, and I spend time with him. There is no reason I
shouldn't smell like him." 

 He ignored Dief's response to that and went to shower and dress. 

 He managed to find enough work at the Consulate to justify his absence
from the precinct that day. It was cowardly, he knew, and perhaps unfair
to Ray, but he was still unable to force himself to go. 

 As it turned out the point was moot, as Ray called in mid-afternoon, not
entirely to Fraser's surprise. Ray was always brave, it seemed. 

 "Good afternoon, Ray," Fraser said, keeping his voice even. 

 "You. Me. Talk." 

 Fraser began, "I certainly don't think this is the appropriate time or
place for such--" 

 "Nah, I know that, Fraser. I'm not stupid. You just don't get to avoid me
or play hunky-dorky either. I'll come over later after work's done." 

 Fraser swallowed and said, "Fine." 

 "Okay, then," Ray said. 

 He hung up, and Fraser was free to concentrate as fully as he desired on
the variety of forms he had to file. There was only so much distraction to
be found there, though, in mindless routine. It left too much room and too
much space for his own thoughts. 

 Pictures went through his mind despite himself, small helpless flashes of
memories. His arrival at the precinct, only to find Ray Vecchio gone, an
imposter in his place. Ray Kowalski -- above him last night, shining,
dazzling as he moved, so that Fraser couldn't, couldn't take his eyes away
even when he tried. Ray's its careless muscles and the range of scars
lined into his skin, each perfectly visible and apparent -- nothing hidden
away, nothing of Ray protected at all. His own scar, etched permanently
into his back. The ice at Fortitude Pass. 

 When his hours ended he sat down with the novel he was reading to wait.
"Ray is coming over in a few minutes," he told Diefenbaker. "I would
appreciate it if you saw fit to give the two of us some privacy." Dief
made a short response, and Fraser was slightly testier when he said, "I
don't believe it was that laughable a suggestion--" 

 Diefenbaker got up in the middle of Fraser's comment and walked out of
the room; Fraser sighed and rose to follow him to the front doors. Ray was
standing outside. 

 "Hey, Dief. Fraser." 

 "Hello, Ray," Fraser said, stepping aside to let him in. He was surprised
by how tired Ray looked; there was a look to his face, a shadow he didn't
recognize. He closed the doors and began walking them to his room. Ray was
quiet beside him, biting his lip, and when they reached the doorway he
stopped. 

 "So. You know, Fraser, I realize that you may be new to this whole thing.
So maybe you just don't know the whole etiquette, right?" Ray's tone was
light, artificially so, at he babbled. "Because walking out in the night
-- usually frowned upon. Especially with no note or anything. Notes, phone
calls, flowers the next day, they're all nice. American way of making it
seem a little less cheap." 

 Fraser had sat, and he gazed at his clasped hands as he spoke. "I owe you
an apology, Ray." 

 He couldn't see Ray's expression, only his legs and feet over by the
closet, but he could hear Ray's snort. "Maybe I'm not so sure I wanna hear
it, Fraser." 

 "Nevertheless," Fraser said, adding as much firmness as he could; it was
difficult to put the words together, to find what he was trying to tell
Ray. "I have to insist. My behavior -- it was unfair to you, and I
shouldn't involve you in my mistakes." 

 "No, Fraser, I get it, I do." Fraser looked up at him then. Ray's smile
was tight and razor-sharp, but it wasn't aimed at Fraser; he was looking
in another direction. "It was just one of those, what is it, lapses of
judgment, right? Don't worry. I'm used to it. Water under the bridge." 

 Ray was moving in place, almost jangling or vibrating in motion, and
Fraser forced himself to not look away, to watch what he had done. He had
hurt Ray, hurt his best friend; this was what happened, this was exactly
why he should have known better, why he did know better. 

 Dief nudged him in the thigh with his muzzle -- of course he hadn't given
them space; that would have been too much to expect -- and made a soft
noise. 

 "I don't believe I asked for your opinion on the matter," Fraser said
stiffly; it hurt a little to speak now. Dief huffed and walked away to lay
down across the room. To Ray, Fraser continued, "I hope this doesn't
affect our friendship..." He trailed off at that; it was difficult to
think about the alternatives. 

 Ray sighed heavily once and came to sit down beside him on the cot. Their
thighs were almost touching, and Ray put his hand on Fraser's arm. "Look,
Fraser, it's not all your fault. I started it, I made you uncomfortable,
whatever. Now I know better. You don't want it, I leave you alone, we're
back to normal." He stood up again, putting his hands in his pockets. 

 It slipped out before Fraser could resist. "I didn't say--" 

 Ray glanced at him in surprise. "You didn't say what?" 

 "I didn't say I didn't want it," Fraser said, quietly, honestly. 

 Ray was gazing at him in frank astonishment, and Fraser felt his face
heat up in discomfort. 

 "I don't get it," Ray said finally. "What's the problem, Fraser? You want
me, I want you. Sounds good to me." 

 Fraser cleared his throat. "I believe if you look at the situation fully,
you'll see all of the reasons last night was a mistake, Ray. For both of
us. The problems--" Scars. Ice. Stars that burned up anything that came
too close... 

 "Well, see, Fraser," Ray said slowly, moving back toward him, "the only
problems I'm seeing are the ones you're making yourself. Because I don't
know what you did last night, but I got lucky with my best friend, the one
I've got the hots for and happen to kind of be in love with." He sat back
down beside Fraser, pressing his leg against him this time. 

 Fraser closed his eyes, inhaling a slow deep breath before opening them
again. "It would be nice if it worked that way, Ray." 

 Ray leaned forward and said, "Who says it doesn't?" Fraser was silent --
there was no response to that, nothing he could say. "I'm ready, Fraser,"
Ray said, jabbing Fraser in the chest with his forefinger, moving his face
close, invading Fraser's personal space till there was no room, no air. 

 Fraser said helplessly, "Ray, I don't--" 

 "I do. Come on, Fraser, do it--" Ray said, voice overflowing with
urgency, and Fraser sucked in another breath and hoped not to burn up as
he let go, stopped trying, stopped resisting Ray's orbit -- and Ray moved
back, making space for him, letting Fraser in like the space had always
been there for the taking. 

End Ready Set Go by Pearl-o: pearlo@illuminatedtext.com

Author and story notes above.