Gravity	 Gravity

 by Rushlight

  

 Author's website: http://www.slashcity.org/~rushlight

 Disclaimer: 

 Author's Notes: Special thanks to Beth for giving this story a
pre-posting read-through, and for bolstering an uncertain writer's
confidence. :) 

 Story Notes: This story is dedicated to all the listsibs on Serge who
made me feel so very welcome when I first joined the fandom. Especially,
it goes to Fortitude, Beth, Mary, and Kathleen, who were nice enough to
let me gush at all hours of the day and night about my newfound love for
these characters, and who didn't mind too much that I like RayV, too. :) 
More Notes: This is my very first attempt at writing F/K slash, so any
comments, encouragement, criticism, etc. will be very much appreciated. 

 

 

 Gravity
 by, Rushlight 

 Ray slouched back in his seat and hooked one foot up on the dashboard in
front of him, letting out a harried sigh. Somehow, he managed to take up
nearly the entire front seat of the vehicle, which was a feat that Fraser
found quite remarkable considering his slight stature. 

 "God, I hate stakeouts," Ray said, running a hand back over the top of
his spiky hair and making an obvious effort to force himself to relax.
Even on the best of days, he looked like someone had used his head to buff
the entire first floor of the Canadian Consulate. But now, after a day
spent filling out paperwork and tracking down an increasingly nonexistent
trail of leads, his hair seemed to have taken on a haphazard and wildly
improbable life of its own out of sheer frustration. Fraser regarded it
with some degree of admiration for its apparent defiance of the laws of
gravity. 

 "At least Mr. Anasazi returned home during the previous shift, so all
we're required to do is observe his residence for the remainder of the
evening." Fraser could hear the forced joviality in his words and winced
inwardly. The truth was, he wasn't looking forward to spending the evening
cooped up in this car any more than Ray was, albeit for different reasons.
It wasn't something he allowed himself to think about very often, but of
late, he'd found himself looking at Ray with somewhat more than partnerly
affection, and being in close quarters with him always seemed to multiply
the effect. Which was unfortunate, since Ray had never given any signs of
feeling "affection" toward anyone not of the opposite gender. And Fraser
had been watching. 

 Ray glanced at him irritably. "And just how is that supposed to be good
news, Fraser? At least Huey and Dewey had the excitement of following the
guy home. What do we get to do? I'll tell you what we get to do. Sit in a
car and watch the paint on his house dry all night long." 

 Obviously, it was going to be one of those evenings. Resisting the urge
to comment on the fact that the paint on Mr. Anasazi's apartment was
peeling significantly and therefore not likely to be doing any amount of
drying over the course of the evening, Fraser turned his attention to the
street around them. 

 The sun had set nearly an hour ago, and now there wasn't even the
faintest blush at the horizon to show where it had gone. As usual, the
Chicago sky was disturbingly free of visible stars, and Fraser looked away
from that yawning void quickly, feeling a trickle of uneasiness move
through him. The street was virtually deserted, lit only by the dull,
burnt umber glow of the sodium-vapor lamps that were set up at regular
intervals along the side of the street. A faint breeze rustled a wadded-up
newspaper at the edge of the sidewalk nearby. 

 Beside him, Ray fidgeted discontentedly, drawing Fraser's attention back
inside the car. As Fraser watched, Ray twisted his lean form around into
an even more unlikely position, swearing under his breath when he
apparently found this one just as uncomfortable as the last. 

 Fraser frowned, glancing at him disapprovingly. "You really should learn
to relax, Ray." 

 Ray shot him a venom-filled glare. "I can't help it, Fraser. I can't
stand sitting around like this. I need to move, I need to do something. I
don't have all that practice you do guarding the Consulate from invading
pedestrians." 

 Fraser dragged a thumbnail over his left eyebrow and sighed, turning to
look out the window beside him. He probed the shadows of the building they
were supposed to be surveying with a watchful eye, but there was no sign
of movement. No sign of life, even. For all he could tell, Mr. Anasazi had
sneaked out sometime before their arrival and taken up residence in the
outer provinces of Timbuktu. 

 That was, he had to admit, highly unlikely. 

 "As long as he remains on the premises, we have nothing to worry about,"
he said, wishing that he at least could find his words the slightest bit
comforting. He knew that they were probably only succeeding in irritating
Ray further. 

 "Yeah, he's still in there, Fraser." Ray didn't sound at all reassured by
this. In fact, his irritation seemed to double as he glared at the closed
front door of Mr. Anasazi's apartment, and he hunched down against the
door behind him as if settling in for a truly massive sulk. "He's in
there, lying in a nice, comfortable bed, while we're out here sitting in
the damned car getting pins and needles in places that I don't even want
to mention." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as if to illustrate the
point. "He's in there, Fraser, either sleeping or fucking or whatever the
hell it is guys like him do on a Tuesday night. And where are we? Huh?
Answer me that, Fraser. Just where the hell are we?" 

 Fraser stared at him for a moment, not quite sure what answer was
expected of him. "In the car?" he ventured after a moment, feeling
somewhat lost. 

 Ray nodded as if this proved his point exactly. "Yes. We're in the car.
Again. How many stakeouts we been on this past month, anyway? And don't
answer that, Fraser, 'cause I really do not want to hear it." Fraser
closed his mouth again quickly. "My point is, when are we gonna see some
action on this case? There's only so much of this cloak and dagger stuff a
man can do and still stay sane. You know what I mean?" 

 Taking in the barely subdued energy that fairly crackled beneath the
surface of Ray's skin, Fraser had to nod. "Yes, Ray. I believe I do." 

 And for once, he seemed to have said the right thing, because Ray relaxed
slightly. "Well, there you go, then. It just ain't right. It's not ...
whadaya call it, humane. It's cruel and unusual punishment, Fraser, and as
soon as we get something on this guy I am gonna kick his freaking head
in." 

 Fraser had to suppress the smile that wanted to twitch at the corner of
his mouth at this deadpan statement, and he shifted his gaze once again to
the shadowed apartment building across the street. "Understood." 

 The next few moments passed in a companionable silence that was almost
comfortable, until Ray shifted position again and bumped his elbow against
the window, which then prompted him to fill the air with some rather
imaginative cursing. Fraser gave him a disapproving look but refrained
from commenting. 

 "May I make a suggestion?" he said instead. 

 Ray paused in mid-curse and pinned him with a glare that could have
conceivably brought the entire Arctic Ocean to a seething boil. "What?" he
said, biting the word off angrily. 

 Fraser hesitated only slightly before replying, "You seem to have a
surfeit of energy that is interfering with your ability to perform your
duties in a calm and rational manner." 

 Ray's eyes widened, and Fraser got the impression that he was trying to
break the sentence apart in his head in order to determine if, taken as a
whole, it constituted something that he wanted to hear. 

 The decision he came to in this regard became patently obvious a moment
later. Leaning forward abruptly, he stabbed a finger sharply into Fraser's
chest and said, "There is nothing wrong with my ability to perform my
duties. Just where the hell do you get off--" 

 "Ray." 

 "--telling me that I can't fucking--" 

 "Ray." 

 "--perform my duties when half the time it's me going in to pull your
scrawny ass out of the fire. Huh, Fraser? Answer me that. Just who do you
think you are--" 

 "Ray. Ray. Ray." 

 "What?" Ray glared at him, clearly upset at having his tirade
interrupted. 

 "I didn't mean to insult you. I only thought that it might be beneficial
to both of us if you were to find a way to ... dispose of some of your
excess energy in a way that doesn't involve verbal sparring, which is both
unpleasant and counterproductive to what we hope to accomplish here this
evening." Fraser felt Ray's gaze narrow on him, and he turned away to look
out the window again, feeling a slow blush begin to crawl up his neck and
color the skin behind his ears. 

 Ray regarded him curiously, sensing the sudden crack in his stoic mask.
"'Dispose of it'?" he echoed. "Just how do you propose I do that? There
isn't really all that much room for calisthenics in here, and if I get out
of the car to start doing jumping jacks on the curb, I have a feeling our
guy might start to get suspicious." 

 "You're right, of course, Ray. I wasn't thinking of anything quite so ...
obvious to passersby." He kept his gaze fixed on the building across the
street, although he had to admit that his attention was firmly focused on
the body that sat like lightning poised to strike in the seat beside him.
The pent-up energy that rose from Ray seemed to thrum in the air between
them, raising the hairs along the back of his neck. 

 Now he really had Ray's attention. "Okay, so give." Ray's eyes seemed to
be lit from somewhere within with a silvery-grey light, gleaming with a
curious shine in the murky light of the streetlamps. Fraser met that fey
gaze briefly and then quickly looked away again. "What do you want I
should do? You've got to give me a hint here." 

 Fraser hesitated, immediately doubting the wisdom of raising this subject
at all. A small, niggling voice in the back of his mind questioned his
motives reprovingly, but it wasn't enough to stop him from saying, "There
are certain, ah, actions that men can perform that are well-suited to the
task of dissolving excess energy, Ray. I was merely suggesting that you
... that you avail yourself of them." 

 The blush had risen from his neck nearly to his hairline now, but he
refused to turn and see what effect his words had had on Ray. The sudden
silence in the car was deafening, broken only by the rapid thunder of his
own nervous heartbeat, which he was certain Mr. Anasazi could hear all the
way in his apartment across the street. 

 After a moment, Ray said, "Let me get this straight." His tone was
unreadable, but at least he didn't sound angry. "You're telling me I
should ... that I should what? Jack off? Here, in the car?" He paused.
"With you?" 

 Fraser turned toward him sharply at that, his eyes widening. Ray was
looking at him with a look of calm inquisitiveness, as if he were
questioning Fraser's choice of beverage with their afternoon meal. Surely
Ray's calm reaction to this suggestion didn't mean... 

 Heart hammering in his chest, Fraser found himself saying, "Masturbation
is an act that has been utilized in many primitive cultures as a way of
releasing anxiety and stress before battle. There is a rich history of
ritual self-pleasuring among the Mafustani warriors of India, which was
often performed in tandem with simultaneous rituals of fasting, dancing,
and self-scarification..." And just where did his brain go when his mouth
took off like that, anyway? Judging from the way that Ray was looking at
him, he was asking himself that very same question. 

 "Fraser." 

 Fraser drew in a deep breath, stilling his monologue with an effort.
"Yes, Ray?" 

 Ray shook his head in what Fraser could only describe as reluctant
admiration. "I cannot believe that I just heard the word 'masturbation'
come out of your mouth. We are gonna have to wash your mouth out with
soap. I think that is the single most randiest thing I have ever heard you
say." He grinned slightly, and the expression gave him a look that was
simultaneously innocent and predatory. Fraser swallowed forcefully. "No
Mountie points for you today." 

 "So..." Fraser cleared his throat. "I take it this means that you don't
want to--" 

 "It don't mean nothing, Fraser. I was just curious, that's all." All of
Ray's unbridled energy, which had previously been gearing toward inciting
an argument between them, was now being put to the task of teasing Fraser
mercilessly. Fraser couldn't decide which was worse. "I mean, it's not
every day that my partner offers to jack me off in the middle of a
stakeout..." 

 "I didn't offer to jack you off, Ray." Was he even truly having this
conversation? "I merely mentioned the benefits of self-pleasuring as a
means of releasing tension in certain high-anxiety situations." 

 "Uh-huh." Ray regarded him narrowly. "And that's what we got right here,
all right. A high-anxiety situation. Can't you just feel the tension in
the air?" 

 Fraser felt his skin flush again. In verbal battles of emotional
intensity, Ray could run circles around him every time. The world Fraser
was comfortable with consisted of the clean, unambiguous lines of logic;
the way he felt whenever Ray was around was something quite beyond his
experience or understanding. 

 Not that his body was having any problems with ambiguity. It knew
perfectly well what it wanted when Ray's attention was focused on him in
this way, and not for the first time, Fraser was grateful for the length
and thickness of the red uniform tunic that covered his lap. He shifted
uncomfortably, trying for a sternly disapproving frown. "I'm serious Ray,"
he said, hoping to deflect some of the intensity that Ray was casting in
his direction, but his effort failed miserably when he realized that Ray
had no such fortune in wearing a lengthy tunic over his lap. Even in the
uncertain glow from the streetlamps outside, it was apparent that Ray's
interest in this conversation was somewhat more than intellectual. 

 Ray's eyes held his evenly. "So am I, Fraser," he said. 

 Fraser's jaw fell open. Surely he didn't mean... 

 Sighing as if he were secretly praying for deliverance from dim-witted
Mounties, Ray slumped back into his seat again and spread his legs as much
as the confines of the GTO would allow. Fraser stared, unable to tear his
eyes away as Ray slid a hand up the inside of one jean-clad thigh,
shimmying back against the seat until he'd found a relatively comfortable
position. 

 "Ray?" Fraser said, somewhat chagrined when his voice came out as little
more than a breathless squeak. 

 Ray looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes and raised one eyebrow
inquisitively. "What's the matter, Frase?" 

 Fraser had to clear his throat twice before he could get it to work
properly. "What are you doing?" 

 "What's it look like I'm doing?" Ray's voice was perfectly reasonable.
The hand on his thigh slid down to his knee, then up again, and Fraser
started at the sound of fingernails tracing across worn denim. 

 "It looks like you're, ah ... getting ready to masturbate, Ray." 

 Ray nodded slowly, as if they were discussing stock quotes. "It was your
idea." 

 "Well, yes, but..." He faltered slightly, caught completely off-guard by
Ray's unexpected compliance, and then abruptly decided, Why the hell not?
Straightening, he said, "I was rather hoping that you'd allow me to help."


 The sudden grin that Ray favored him with reminded Fraser uncomfortably
of the look that Diefenbaker got when he'd caught a whiff of his favorite
donut. Suddenly wondering just who was seducing whom here, he reached up
to loosen the collar of his uniform with a sharp, almost desperate
movement and sucked in deep lungfuls of air. 

 Ray ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip without moving his eyes
away from Fraser's. "You look good," he said appreciatively, and his voice
had taken on a quality that Fraser had never heard before. It was deeper
somehow, darker, and yet somehow warm and soothing all at the same time.
Fraser realized suddenly that this was how Ray sounded in bed, and the
stirring in his groin hardened almost immediately into aching arousal. 

 He took another deep breath to steady himself. "You don't, ah ... You
don't look so bad yourself, Ray." Which was the understatement of the
year. Sprawled languidly back against the seat of his car in the
semi-darkness, stroking himself slowly through the fabric of his jeans,
Ray was the sexiest thing that Fraser had ever seen. 

 "Took you long enough to notice," Ray complained, tipping his head back
and biting down lightly on his lower lip as his fingers traced the now
clearly visible bulge at his groin. His hips shifted restlessly under the
stimulation, and after a moment, Fraser realized that the truly
disgraceful noises he heard were coming from himself. 

 "I noticed." Fraser's eyes were glued to Ray's stroking hand, and his own
hands were clenched so tightly in front of him that he could feel his
nails pressing little half-moons into his palms. 

 "But you never said anything." 

 "I couldn't." 

 "Why?" 

 "Because things are different here, Ray." He frowned. "I mean, here in
the city. With you." He knew he sounded like a complete fool, but it was
an effort to gather his thoughts enough to form coherent sentences at all,
watching Ray do that to himself. And how could he possibly explain
himself, anyway? The truth was, his friendship with Ray had become so dear
to him that nothing could have made him risk it. And there were just no
words to say that without sounding trite. "As it is, I couldn't be sure
that you wouldn't respond with some degree of ... disapproval if I shared
my feelings with you." 

 Ray grinned. "You were afraid I was gonna clock you one, huh?" 

 Fraser arched an eyebrow at him. "You do have a gun, Ray." 

 "That I do, Frase." The words were thick with innuendo. Ray's eyes had
darkened nearly to black in the shadows, and his breathing took on an
unsteady rasp as he pushed his hips up rhythmically against his flattened
hand. "So," he said conversationally, although his voice was strained,
"you gonna help me out here, or are you gonna leave me to deal with this
'energy surplus' all by myself?" 

 There was a feeling of inevitability to this moment, as if all of his
resistance against giving in to these feelings had been as ineffectual as
the earth trying to struggle away from the pull of the sun. Fraser
moistened his lower lip slowly, and he smiled inwardly as he saw Ray's
gaze latch onto his mouth. After a moment, Ray's eyes flickered up to meet
his, and something in them darkened still further at whatever they saw
there. Fraser wondered if his gaze looked as hungry as he felt. 

 Judging by Ray's reaction as he leaned forward to kiss him, he would say
so. 

 The instant his lips touched Ray's, Ray opened for him, sucking Fraser's
tongue deep into his mouth and closing both hands over his shoulders to
pull the bigger man's weight down on top of him. Fraser moaned at the hot,
insistent pressure of the body that rubbed up against him, begging
eloquently for further contact, and his hand moved as if of its own will
to press against the enticing bulge between Ray's widely spread thighs.
How could one body give off so much heat, so much wild energy? In passion,
Ray was a feral thing, all sinewy strength and nails and teeth and
heartfelt, irresistible need. Having that inescapable energy directed
against him in such a way was almost frightening. 

 Fraser had never experienced anything more arousing in his entire life. 

 There wasn't much room in the front seat of the GTO to maneuver, but
somehow he managed to get the fly of Ray's jeans open, and then he was
there, he was right where he wanted to be, as his fingers at last closed
around the hard, dark heat of Ray's erection, and he stroked up once,
hard, just to feel the slickness there spread across his palm. Ray bucked
under him, making an incoherent cry, but Fraser was beyond hearing, beyond
feeling anything but the hard, wild energy that surged against him. 

 "Oh God," Ray panted, arching his hips up into Fraser's hand and
scrabbling at his shoulders for balance as he scooted back against the car
door, opening his legs further to give Fraser better access. He didn't
even seem to notice when his head hit against the closed window behind
him. "God, Fraser. Fuck, yeah..." 

 Fraser drank in the words as he drank in the seductively needy movements
of the body beneath him, and he cursed inwardly at the close quarters as
his elbow hit against the gear shift and his shoulder caught up painfully
against the steering wheel. There was no way they were going to get
anything resembling full body contact out of this, but it didn't matter,
really, because it was enough just to touch Ray like this, to be here with
him like this, to feel the slick heat of Ray's arousal surge up over and
over into the cupped tunnel of his hand, bodies moving together in a dance
that was somehow enthralling in its sheer, wild beauty. 

 Ray's eyes were closed to slits, his cheeks flushed as if he were running
a marathon, and Fraser couldn't resist the urge to bend down and run his
tongue over the sweat-dampened hairline above Ray's left ear, tasting the
dark, musky salt of his skin. The groan Ray made at that seemed to come
straight up from his toes, and his whole body shuddered once before it
turned suddenly taut under Fraser's hands. And then Ray was biting hard
into Fraser's shoulder as his orgasm hit him, stifling the abandoned cry
that Fraser could feel vibrating in through the fabric of his uniform,
burrowing deep into his skin. 

 God, Ray looked good like this, he looked perfectly edible, and Fraser
licked at his face again, wanting to taste him, to feel the heat rising up
from the surface of his skin. The air in the car seemed suddenly heavy,
thick with the scents of sweat and sex, and Fraser breathed it in
hungrily, wishing desperately that this moment would never end. 

 A faint stirring beneath him made him abruptly aware of his own
unsatisfied arousal, and before he knew what was happening, Ray was
pushing him back against the car door behind him, sliding up to cover him
with an undeniable sense of purpose that was impossible to ignore. Fraser
stared up at him in surprise, taking a moment to admire the strength that
was harnessed in that unassuming body -- and he should know by now that
Ray was more hardy than he seemed at first glance -- as determined hands
burrowed up underneath his tunic and pulled purposefully at the fastenings
of his pants. 

 "Ray..." he began, not sure quite what he intended to say, but Ray cut
him off with a hard, almost violent kiss that effectively took any further
words away. 

 "Shut up, Fraser." Ray's eyes were bright in the darkness, cheeks flushed
with excitement as he worked his way in through the layers of Fraser's
clothes with increasing frustration. Layers that, Fraser had always
assumed, were designed to discourage exactly this kind of indulgence when
officers of the RCMP were supposed to be on duty. "Do you have any idea
how long I've been dreaming about getting into these pants of yours..." 

 Ray looked like a kid opening a present on Christmas morning, the
favorite present that he'd saved for last and couldn't wait for for
another minute. Fraser did what he could to oblige him, slouching back
against the door and spreading his legs as wide as he could, taking
advantage of what little space had been afforded them. He recognized in
one dim corner of his mind that he was behaving in a very un-Mountie-like
fashion at the moment, but it failed to restrain his growing ardor. The
feel of Ray's hands on him was so wildly erotic that he didn't even notice
when his head fell with a dull thunk against the window behind him. 

 "Jeez, finally," Ray muttered, and Fraser's hands clenched spasmodically
over the edges of the seat as an impossibly warm mouth closed over the
suddenly exposed length of his erection. 

 Oh, dear. Fraser squeezed his eyes tightly shut as his world was abruptly
constricted to the point of overwhelmingly wet suction between his legs.
Ray was exceedingly skilled at this, and Fraser had to rapidly revise his
opinion that Ray had not previously been selecting male mates. Perhaps Ray
had merely been unexpectedly discreet about his liaisons, and about his
interest in partners of the same gender. Despite his own precautions,
Fraser was beginning to suspect that Ray had known perfectly well that he
favored men in general and this man in particular. Even their arguments
from earlier that evening were beginning to seem somewhat like foreplay,
in a typically Ray-like fashion. 

 It was like being devoured by the sun. Fraser heard a voice saying Ray's
name over and over and over again, and he barely recognized it as his own
through the hoarse sense of want and need and pleading that thrummed
through it. He felt dizzy, lightheaded, anchored only by the agile body
that lay heavily over his thighs and the insistent, delightfully talented
mouth that was doing its best to suck what was left of his composure
straight out through his cock. 

 Unlike Ray, he didn't have a shoulder handy to bite into when he came,
and the sound of his cry echoed eerily in the car's interior when the
pleasure he felt at last gathered its forces and lashed free within him.
He thought he might have blacked out from the joy of it, and when he came
to a moment later, it was almost too much for him when he realized that
Ray was indeed licking him clean with soft, delicate little cat-licks that
felt remarkably soothing against his softening flesh. 

 "Mmmmm," Ray said contemplatively as he slid up to lay against Fraser's
chest, and Fraser had to admit that that summed up his own thoughts rather
nicely. He looped an arm around Ray's shoulders and snuggled him close,
pressing a grateful kiss to the spiky yet surprisingly soft hair at the
top of his head. Ray's body molded against him like a second skin, and
Fraser held on to him tightly, feeling strangely reluctant to let this
moment end. 

 Still breathing heavily, he glanced back over his shoulder at the dimly
lit entryway of the apartment they were supposed to be observing. Still no
change, and he held back a faint sigh of relief, fighting the faint twinge
of guilt that moved through him. Ray's body was limp as a dishrag on top
of him, all of its former unbridled energy gone, and Fraser felt that this
minor dereliction of duty had been well worth the results. 

 "You starting to regret anything?" Ray asked without raising his head.
His voice was a soft breath of warmth against the side of Fraser's neck. 

 Fraser squeezed an arm around his shoulders and sighed contentedly. "No."


 "Good." With an audible effort, Ray pushed himself up off of Fraser's
chest and situated himself back on his own side of the car. The look he
favored Fraser with was faintly mischievous as he tucked himself back into
his jeans. "Because as soon as our relief gets here, I plan on taking you
home with me so we can do this all over again. Preferably without a
freakin' gear shift stabbing me in the ribs." 

 The thought made a warm flush of anticipation move through Fraser's body,
and he returned Ray's smile as he saw to getting his own clothing to
rights again. "That would be most agreeable," he said, thinking of what it
would be like to have Ray with him, sans clothing, in a bed... The mental
image almost made him groan aloud. And fast on the heels of that thought
came the realization that Ray wanted there to be another time between
them, that this hadn't been just a one-shot deal. 

 And judging by the light he saw brimming in Ray's eyes, there might be a
whole future of "other times" ahead of them. The thought made Fraser's
smile widen. 

 After all, there were some forces in this universe that just could not be
resisted. 

 And Fraser knew better than to try. 

 The End
 9/15/01 

End Gravity by Rushlight: n_sanity75@hotmail.com

Author and story notes above.