Fuck It All and No Regrets	The Due South Fiction Archive Entry    
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      	  Fuck It All and No Regrets 
 by brooklinegirl  

 Author's Notes: First line graciously donated by Dira by way of Estrella.
And the wonderful Estrella also willingly provided beta services. But I'm
pretty sure she's drunk, so take that with a grain of salt. Slightly
belated, for the birthday of the lovely and crazy ms. Lyra. Lady, I adore
you, and I present you with porn.

 

 He should have known this would happen. Ray pressed the back of his head
against the wall and tried to breathe normally. Because yeah - sure - fine
- Fraser sucked his cock every day. Fraser, he dropped to his knees and he
told Ray to shut up, and he sucked Ray's cock just - like - this, yeah.
Every day of the fucking week.



Breathe. Right. Okay, he could do that.



Because of course Fraser was sucking him off, why wouldn't he? When you
think about it, it's really the only thing to do after he just spent,
like, ten minutes - fifteen maybe? - a long time, anyway - kissing Ray.
Like, really kissing Ray. Kissing Ray like Fraser was the one having
problems breathing, and, apparently, needed Ray's tongue in his mouth in
order to get oxygen. Because whenever Ray tried to yank his mouth away to
say, "Fraser, what the fuck," Fraser would follow him with his mouth, and
go right back to it, kissing him roughly, and shoving his tongue into his
mouth till Ray had no choice but to twist his hands in the back of
Fraser's soft flannel shirt, and kiss him right back. 



And that much was normal, right? Not weird at all, not after that stupid,
silent car ride, when Fraser wouldn't talk or even argue or respond or
anything. He just sat there staring straight ahead and it was like Ray was
talking to a brick wall, and it didn't matter what Ray said - if it was,
"Fraser, what the hell did you expect me to do," or if it was, "Look, it's
my job, you know that, I know that, remember? Uniforms, like capes, like
you said, like we're goddamn heroes, right?" or even if it was, after a
long, long silence in which Ray was twitching and bouncing his leg as he
drove and had turned the radio on and off six times, "I'm sorry, okay?
Fraser? I said I'm sorry, I just - I didn't want - I'm fucking sorry,
okay?"



Nothing. Not one damn word, just that stony silence which Ray hated worse
than anything. It gave him nothing to work with, nothing to bounce off of
except the inside of his own skull, which was pretty annoying in and of
itself. It made him crazy to have to just sit there, and he finally just
left the radio off and drove too fast, and when, on the last turn into his
parking lot, Fraser's hat slid off the dashboard and onto the floor,
Fraser didn't even move to pick it up.



And Ray knew he was well and truly fucked.



He slammed on the brakes and pulled into his space, shutting off the car.
Clutching the wheel with both hands, he slowly leaned his forehead against
it. "Shit," he muttered. He turned to look at Fraser. "Just..." Fraser was
already getting out of the car, tilting the seat forward to let Dief jump
out, then slamming the door. His hat was still on the floor. Ray sat there
for another second, tired out of his mind. "Fine," he said to the empty
car. "I'll just - yeah." He sighed, and scooped the hat up off the floor,
and got out of the car.



He followed Fraser into his apartment building, absently dusting the hat
off with his hand. Fraser was just getting on the elevator with Dief.
Okay, so Fraser was mad, was so pissed he wouldn't even talk to Ray when
he knew, he goddamn knew, that the silent treatment was Ray's worst thing
ever.. But if he really didn't want to talk or fight or try and work this
out at all, he would have just stayed in the car when Ray pulled into the
parking lot, or maybe just started walking home without a word. Ray was
pretty sure as soon as he got Fraser into his apartment, he'd be able to
try talking to the guy again. 



He caught the elevator doors just as they were sliding shut and Fraser
didn't even pretend to be reaching for the button to hold them. Ray glared
at Fraser and Fraser just looked at him. Ray had figured on him doing the
"calm and cool" deal, but no, Jesus, Fraser was pissed, because the look
Fraser gave him was lethal. Ray actually took a small step back, and the
elevator doors half-closed on him. He cursed, and shoved his way in, and
stood there next to Fraser. Without looking at Ray, Fraser silently held
out his hand, and Ray sighed, and handed him his hat. Shoving his hands in
his pockets, Ray rocked back on his heels and chewed on his lip, while
Fraser stood silently next to him. He wasn't even looking up at the
holy-god-so-slowly-changing numbers, but instead just staring straight
ahead and even from the corner of his eye, Ray could see how Fraser was
standing, all angry and tense.



And so when they got to Ray's apartment, and Ray got the door open, and
Fraser shoved him through, shoved him from behind, and that's not very
Canadian of you, is it, Fraser? Well, Ray was relieved, because hey,
fighting, he could handle. He swung around, but Fraser just shoved Ray
again, so that his back hit the wall hard, and knocked the breath out of
him. That was about the point that Dief decided he'd just wait in the
kitchen, thanks. Ray was just standing there, his hands up so he could
take a swing at Fraser, or at least block what he was sure was an incoming
punch. Only Fraser didn't hit him. Fraser grabbed Ray's shirt and held him
there against the wall, and then Fraser was kissing him, and Ray couldn't
blink or move or do anything other than stand there and be kissed.



And try to remember to breathe.



So when you think about it, it all made a certain amount of sense, and Ray
shouldn't be surprised or having this breathing problem at all, he should
just be - well, trying to lock his knees so he won't slide down the wall,
or maybe he should be hanging onto Fraser's shoulders, and possibly trying
not to come down Fraser's throat.



Though that last part Ray wasn't sure about. Fraser seemed pretty dead-set
determined to make him come, and soon. Ray shut his eyes tight, because
looking down at Fraser -Fraser, on his knees, Fraser, with his mouth on
Ray, Ray's dick sliding between Fraser's lips - it was too much. He tilted
his head back and gasped in air, and thought again that he should have
known, he should have fucking known.



Ray thought dizzily, as Fraser's tongue moved over his dick, that
sometimes he didn't give Fraser enough credit.



Because it did make sense, it made perfect sense, it's what Ray would have
done, should have done, should have maybe done a long time ago. Because
Fraser, thought the uniform was some sort of shield, using it to confuse
people into not putting a hole in his chest.



Ray closed his eyes tighter, and he didn't see Fraser on his knees. He
saw, instead, Fraser, who was as much a dumb-ass as Ray himself, stepping
out from behind the car they were crouched behind. Ray had his head down,
his gun out, his glasses on. Ray was ready for this guy - this crazy guy,
couldn't Fraser see the guy was a nutcase? A nutcase waving a gun, a
big-ass gun, on the sidewalk in front of the flower shop. This guy was
seriously crazy, was practically foaming at the mouth. He was ranting
about how his wife had left him on Valentine's Day because he had
forgotten to get her flowers, and how he wanted her here, now, he'd give
her all the fucking flowers she wanted. And great, Ray thought tiredly,
just great, buddy, go on a bender just to ruin my day.



Ray was blaming Fraser anyway, because they wouldn't have been anywhere
near the damn flower shop in the first place if Dief hadn't gotten all
excited - what was it with the wolf and flowers, anyway? - and run towards
it, only to stop, growling and crouched low to the sidewalk, as this guy
came out with the middle-aged Asian guy who ran the shop in a choke-hold,
with a gun to his head, and the three of them - Ray, Fraser, and the wolf,
and dear god, would someone please tell him how his life had gotten to the
point where he had to keep track of a wolf as he went about his business?
- dove behind a parked car. 



So they were in charge of the scene while they waited for the back-up Ray
had called in, and Ray could hear them, could hear the damn sirens, that's
how close they were, when Fraser was suddenly in his field of vision,
because Fraser had moved from behind him and was stepping towards the
psycho with the gun.



Ray lunged for him, cursing, but it was too late, and Fraser didn't even
look at him, didn't even spare him a glance as he walked slowly forward
towards the guy, who had his arm around the storekeeper's neck tight, way
too damn tight; the guy was struggling for air. "Sir," Fraser said, in his
Canadian way, "If I may - what is your wife's name?"



And Fraser, yeah, Jesus, Ray knew was Fraser was doing, confuse and
distract and kill time, sure, great idea, only Fraser was making himself
the goddamn target and he didn't even have the uniform on, didn't even
have that much of a make-believe shield. 



Ray wanted to kill him, wanted to motherfucking kill him, and he was
swearing and inching forward from the behind the car. The sirens were
close, but the nutcase - who was screwed up, was on something, his eyes
were wild and the hand holding the gun was weaving, but turning steadily
in Fraser's direction. Fraser had his hands out, open, no threat, sure, -
"...because you don't even have a gun, Fraser, that's just great..." Ray
muttered to himself - was introducing himself. Ray heard it, heard,
"...ton Fraser, Royal...," even as he was watching, he saw the guy's eyes
focus, and Ray knew that he had maybe three seconds before that trigger
was pulled. 



There was only the sidewalk between them, because Ray was crouched at the
end of the car, and he could see the sweat running down the nutjob's
cheek. Fraser was still talking, still stalling, and then Ray was
launching from his crouch to a roll on the sidewalk, and he hit the guy
right as his gun went off, his arm jerking upward, to blow a completely
non-lethal hole in the awning of the flower shop. 



Then Dief got the guy's gun away - yeah, great, he had a wolf for back-up
- and Fraser had the guy tied up, and Ray was sitting sprawled on the
sidewalk, wondering what it had been like when his heart beat at a normal
pace. 



Then there was back-up arriving and tons of people, and Fraser hauling him
to his feet and not looking at him. And Ray had the distant thought that
he was the one who should be pissed, not Fraser, but his heart was beating
so loud in his ears he couldn't even think. And then there was the station
and reports and Welsh calling them both idiots, and then that long, silent
car ride.



And then this. Ray managed to open his eyes. Fraser holding his hips so
tight, and sucking his dick so hard, and Fraser's eyes were closed, and he
was on his knees at Ray's feet. Ray didn't have time to do anything more
than move his hand shakily to touch Fraser's cheek, and then it was
boiling up from his toes and he was jerking and coming in Fraser's mouth
and the back of his head hit the wall with a dull thump that he didn't
even feel.



When Ray looked down, Fraser was wiping one hand across his mouth, and
then he started to heave himself to his feet, but stopped, sitting back on
his heels. He looked up at Ray and Ray let himself slide down the wall.
"Fraser," he said, and stopped, and Fraser was just looking at him. Like
he couldn't have not done this anymore than he could have not walked out
from behind that car. "Fraser," Ray said again. "That was so fucking
stupid."



Fraser blinked. "It's been a while, but I've been told that my
technique..."



Ray waved his hands. "No, Fraser, not your technique, your technique was
fine, it was great, that's not - " He stuttered to a stop, his head
suddenly flooded with pornographic images of Fraser perfecting his
technique - He took a breath. "I meant the thing with you putting yourself
in front of a gun, Fraser."



"Ah." Fraser looked uncomfortable. "I didn't..." Fraser stopped talking,
and just shrugged. "I know."



"Then why the fuck," and suddenly it was Ray who was so mad he didn't have
the words. 



Fraser shut his eyes for a second. "He had his arm on that shopkeeper's
throat, he was crushing his windpipe..."



"There was back-up coming." Ray's voice didn't even sound like him.



"There wasn't enough time."



"Because you pushed it, Fraser. You walked right out in front of that
gun."



"So did you," Fraser shot back.



"Because I had to!" Ray shouted. "What part of this don't you get?"



Fraser shook his head. "The part where -" He stopped, and he just looked -
frustrated, and fucked-up. Kind of like Ray himself felt. "The part where
you did have to. I didn't know. I just - I didn't know that. I -"



Ray stared at Fraser. "You're really dumb sometimes. You know that,
right?"



Fraser looked up, startled. "I - yes," he said, blinking. "I believe you
may be right about that."



"So why the silent treatment?" Ray demanded. Jesus, had Ray apologized?
What the hell had he been thinking?



"You were stupid too," Fraser said tiredly.



"You made me be stupid!" Wow. Nice argument, Kowalski. "Just - don't,
anymore, okay? Jeez." Ray ran his hand through his hair. See, he got this,
he did. He would have done the same thing - with the shoving and the
kissing and yeah, the blow-job - if he thought he could have gotten away
with it. He hadn't known, but god, yeah, see, this was one of those deals
where he and Fraser were on the exact same page here - the "why the fuck
don't you care if you fucking die" page. Only, Fraser didn't care because
he was - as previously stated - a dumb-ass, who thought that he couldn't
die, and also maybe thought that no one would really care for very long if
he did. 



And Ray didn't care - in this particular instance, which was something
Fraser was not seeing - he didn't care because if Fraser took a bullet,
then it was just the same as Ray himself getting shot. So if Ray could
stop that by taking one himself, then fine, dandy, and Fraser was gonna
have to just deal. Fraser was his partner. "It's - you and me, all right?
Got it?"



"Yes." Fraser was looking at Ray, but not in a real listening kind of way.
Fraser was pretty much just looking at Ray's mouth.



Which was suddenly very dry. "You -" And Ray thought again, how if he'd
known, he'd have been the one - should have been the one - to do this, to
take that pretty basic step, of showing Fraser how much he needed him not
to be dead. "Just -"



Fraser licked his lip, and leaned a little towards Ray. "Yes?"



"Christ," Ray sighed. "Just come here, will you?" And, "Idiot," he
muttered against Fraser's lips. 



"Likewise," Fraser breathed back. 



"Yeah," Ray admitted, sliding his hand up Fraser's thigh.



"Good," Fraser said distractedly, before sliding his tongue back into
Ray's mouth.



And Ray didn't have an argument left in the world.



~end~

  
  

End Fuck It All and No Regrets by brooklinegirl 

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