Presents   Presents Debra Fran Baker  dfbaker@panix.com	

Disclaimer: Alliances, not mine. This story may be printed out for
personal use only.  

Ray Kowalski blinked himself awake. He glanced at the radio next to
him...6AM! The absolute worst time to wake up...too early to do anything,
too late to fall asleep again. He stretched, wondering why his body felt
so different. Then he hit something warm. And solid. 

Oh. 

He turned to look, squinting against the early morning sunlight that was
beginning to pour over the bed. It turned his bed partner into a glowing
statue of ebony and porcelain as he lay tangled in a mass of sheets and
blankets. 

He. As in Fraser. As in he was sharing a bed with Benton Fraser, who was
looking more beautiful than ever framed in the morning sun. In *his* bed.
Fraser stirred and the covers shifted some more. And Fraser was naked
under them. Which Ray had suspected, given that he himself was naked and
if *he* were, well, it only stood to reason that... 

Oh, God. 

His brain finally slipped into gear and memories of last night came
pouring in. Oh, God. How could he have done all of that stone cold sober?
Hell, he would have bet he wouldn't have done at least part of it roaring
drunk. Assuming he drank, which he didn't. Just like Fraser, except that
Fraser had that Queen excuse and Ray just didn't like the taste. 

He could have ruined everything. He never would have believed Fraser
would...he shook his head. He got up to use the toilet and then got back
into bed next to Fraser. Ray shook his head again, and cautiously moved
closer to him. To his surprise, Fraser's strong arms gathered him in and
held him close.  

Ray wondered what he had gotten himself into as he wrapped his own arms
around his bed partner and buried his face in one perfect shoulder.  

His last thought before drifting off again was that he was in *major*
trouble. 

**** 

"Happy birthday, Detective Dewey!" 

They were all gathered in a local restaurant - Welsh, Frannie, Huey, Dewey
and Ray from the station; Thatcher, Turnbull and Fraser from the
consulate. Funny how the two agencies were so close that they did these
things together. Sometimes Ray wondered if they had done that with
Vecchio. Dief was there, too. Dief could get into any restaurant in
Chicago, even those with big signs that said "No Dogs Allowed."  

"Thanks, everyone. This is amazing!" Dewey was smiling so broadly you
wouldn't have guessed he'd been protesting the party all day long. He'd
even threatened not to show, until Fraser gave him one of his looks and a
couple of "I see"'s.  

Then came time for the gifts.  

"And this one is from the Mountie." Dewey shot Fraser a look that could
kill. The gifts up to this point had been a series of gag types because
Dewey was thirty-five and ripe "for over the hill" jokes. Fraser just
smiled a little and watched as he picked up a box wrapped in shiny blue
paper and tied with a bow. When Dewey untied the bow, the paper opened by
itself. Fraser could wrap presents without tape. Guess tape wasn't
available up in the frozen North. 

In the box was a wooden eagle. It was handcarved. Dewey's face softened as
he picked it up. He stroked the wood and smiled. 

"Fraser, this is beautiful. It's one of the most...this is...no one has
ever given me anything like this before." Ray couldn't believe it. There
were actual tears in Dewey's eyes, and over a paperweight, no less. A
paperweight lovingly hand made by *his* Fraser. 

*His* Fraser? Where did that come from? 

"You're most welcome, Dewey." There was that smile, the one he almost
never got to see because Fraser didn't smile often enough. And it was
Dewey making him smile, too.  

That really burned. And Ray wasn't sure he wanted to figure out why. 

Or maybe he knew. He'd stamped that part of himself down in college, he
thought. Anyway, this was Fraser. Fraser who was perfect and who wouldn't
do anything to break that image. 

"Ray. Ray. Ray." 

"What is it, Fraze?" 

"You seem lost." 

"That was a nice present you gave Dewey." 

"He seems to have appreciated it." 

Ray looked back at Dewey. He was kissing Frannie good-bye. She had to
leave early to watch her niece and nephew. She gave one last lingering
look at Fraser and left in a trail of perfume. For some reason, *that* was
okay. Mostly, it was that Frannie was so obvious and Fraser was so...well,
no one could really be *that* oblivious, but he certainly didn't return
her feelings. 

Now, the Dragon Lady - she was a different story. Frannie looked at Fraser
like she wanted to own him forever, but Thatcher looked at him like he was
a piece of meat, one that she wanted to devour. Whole.	

She was shaking his hand now. Fraser's, that is. She'd already wished
Dewey a happy birthday. Ray felt the strangest urge to gouge out her eyes,
so she wouldn't undress Fraser with them again. Which immediately brought
an image of naked Fraser to his own mind. He poured his soda over his
head.  

"Ray, are you all right?" 

"Yeah, Fraze. I'm fine." 

"Why did you just pour your soft drink over your head." 

"Because...because I just did. Sometimes I do stuff like that. You going
back with Thatcher and Turnbull?" 

"No. I thought I'd stay later, perhaps help when it comes time to leave. I
assume you will be the designated driver." 

Ray nodded. That's what happens when everyone knows you don't drink.
Everyone automatically assumes you don't mind if they puke all over your
car. Ray did mind, but Ray minded more if they puked all over their own
cars while weaving all over the road, or maybe hitting someone else or
just wrapping themselves around a lamppost.  

"Yeah. Thanks, buddy." He signaled the bartender for another Coke. Fraser
asked for the same thing, and Ray paid for both. Ray knew what he was
getting paid. It makes Ray look like a millionaire. At first, Fraser
wouldn't let him, but he wore him down. 

"Hey, someone turn on some music. It's my party and I wanna dance!" Dewey
was definitely at least one sheet to the wind.	

"Who you gonna dance with, partner? All the...all the...all the *girls*'re
gone."	

Huey was right. Frannie and Thatcher had been the only ones around anyway,
and they'd left. In fact, for some reason, the five of us were the only
ones left in the bar. That's when Ray took a look at the clock, and at the
bartender's face. 

"You're not closing for another fifteen minutes, guy. Let 'em have their
fun." 

"You're my partner. Wanna dance?" Dewey stumbled to the juke box , put in
a dollar bill and pressed a bunch of letters and numbers. Ray didn'tthink
he meant for the eighties metal to come out, but he didn't seem to care.
He grabbed Huey and dragged him out to the middle of the floor. There was
plenty of room because the chairs were already stacked up. Huey just
grinned and let loose. Welsh stood there like...like a watchful teddy
bear. 

"Come on, you two. Let's see if you can move!" Dewey gestured to Ray and
Fraser. Not that Dewey and Huey were actually dancing. It was more like
staggering in place.  

Ray shook his head. "This ain't my style." He stole a glance at Fraser,
who nodded back. 

"Then let's get the Mountie dancing!" Huey took Fraser's arm and tried to
get him to move. Fraser just stood there. That was odd. Fraser could
dance. Ray had watched him play a pickup game of hockey and he looked like
he was figure skating. Ray had an image...naked Fraser, warm and perfect
in his arms, moving... 

He was about to pour his soda over his head again when the music changed.
Who'd have thought there'd be a waltz on that juke box? Fraser was
standing next to it and....oh, God, he was smiling. He held out his hand. 

Ray knew it was stupid. He knew it was one of the last things he should
do, but...Fraser was smiling. And he was so beautiful. He went to him.	

Fraser let him lead. And he could dance. He could dance as gracefully as
Stella. More so. The two of them glided across that bar floor as if they
were in a ball room, as if they were one person. Ray forgot about
everything else but what he was doing and who he was doing it with. And
until the music ended, everything was perfect and beautiful. 

And that's when something more impossible happened. Fraser leaned forward
with the sweetest smile in the world and his eyes sparkling. Ray knew what
was coming just as Fraser had known when to turn during their dance. And
so, when Fraser lifted his head up, Ray bent his down and their lips met
in the middle. They just barely touched at first, but that wasn't enough.
Wouldn't ever be enough. 

A wave of passion passed through him and he pulled Fraser tighter. Their
tongues met and caressed each other, the twin hardnesses between their
legs ground together and once again they danced, this time without music
and with no thoughts towards the eyes around them. He was perfect in Ray's
arms, fitting in a way that Stella never had because Stella never fully
gave herself to him or took all he'd offered. But Fraser took everything
and gave it all back.  

"Ahem." It was the bartender. "Closing time, *ladies*." Ray looked around.
Welsh and the other two were staring at him and Fraser. He had to drive
them home after *this*. Damn. 

Ray put another twenty on the table and with Fraser's help, gathered up
all the presents - Dewey insisted on holding Fraser's eagle in his hand -
and herded the three of them into his car. Huey and Dewey kept making
kissy noises in the direction of the front seat and even pretended to
snuggle but they kept giggling, and they really stank of beer and whiskey.
Welsh was not saying anything. He was, in fact, completely docile and
passive. Ray could only hope that meant he wasn't seeing anything
either...such as Fraser's hand resting on his thigh from the moment both
sat down in the car. 

It took about an hour to wrestle each man to his respective home and to
topple each on his respective bed. To Ray's relief, only Welsh actually
puked, which he did as they were guiding him to his front step...and he
missed both of them. Fraser insisted that they strip the man down to his
underwear once we got him inside, and put his stinking clothing in a
plastic bag in the hamper.  

They staggered back to the GTO and collapsed in the front seat. "Alone at
last." Dief,in the back seat, whined "Except for the wolf." 

"Indeed, Ray." Okay, that was Fraser's voice, but his hand, the one on
Ray's thigh, that was something else. It was *moving*. And damn if it
didn't feel good, too. 

"Just what is goin' on here, Fraze?" 

"What do you think is going on?" His eyes were sparkling again as he
slowly stroked the worn denim. 

"I think...I think...I think maybe we have something to talk about."
Fraser's leg was firm and the wool of his uniform was soft and scratchy at
the same time. 

"I agree, Ray." 

"You...you were the one wanted to dance. You picked the music, even." 

"So I did." 

"And you wanted to kiss me." 

"Yes. I've wanted to kiss you for a long time, Ray." His hand wasn't on
Ray's thigh anymore. It was moving up Ray's body. 

"Oh..." 

"Does this bother you?" Fraser turned and began to use his right hand to
caress Ray's face. 

"Only...only if you stop." Ray couldn't breathe. And that was okay. Even
if they found him like that in the morning, it was okay. Fraser was
touching him, Fraser who never touched anyone. "But...why...and why did it
take you so *long*?" 

"I wasn't sure how you felt, Ray." 

"Fraser..." 

"I suspected, but you never said anything and one does not come on to
another man, especially a police officer, because of a suspicion. But I
wanted to do so, so badly. There were times I wanted to touch you so much
that I was inches away from...that's not important. I was...close before,
with...with Ray Vecchio. And...that's not important, either." 

"Did he hurt you, Fraser? Cause if he did, I don't care where he is or who
he's being."  

"No. He never did. We...reached an equilibrium. Something I couldn't do
with you. Something I don't want to do with you. You...keep me
off-balance. One of the things I...love about you." He threw a glare
towards the back seat, but when Ray looked there, Dief was fast asleep.
Didn't matter. Ray had something else on his mind. 

"You love me?" 

"Yes, Ray. With all my heart." And now they didn't need the streetlights
at all because Fraser's smile lit up the entire city. 

"That's good." 

"Why is that?" 

"Cause I love you, too." There, he'd said those words. And the world was
still going on, and Dief was still sleeping and Fraser...Fraser was still
smiling, as if he just gotten the best gift ever. Better even than a
carved eagle. 

But he was wrong, because Ray was the winner here. And to prove it, he
leaned over the gear shift lever and claimed Fraser's lips for his own.
Fraser responded eagerly and with a passion that even Ray hadn't known he
could demonstrate, and this time, with no witnesses but the wolf and the
city, they could give it proper attention. 

Until Ray yawned. He laughed with embarrassment as he pulled away.  

"Don't concern yourself, Ray. It's been a long day for both of us." 

"Yeah. And a lot of stuff happened, too." He shyly reached for Fraser's
hand.  

"Would you be so kind as to take Diefenbaker and me back to the
Consulate?" 

Ray shook his head. "No, I will not be so kind. I'll take the dog back if
you really want, but I'm not letting you go tonight." Or ever.	

"What do you propose, then?" 

"I propose...we go back to my place and see what could happen on a real
bed. We both got tomorrow off, so..." 

"Yes. Yes, Ray. I would like that very much." His eyes were sparkling
again. 

Ray nodded once. "Good. That's where we're all going now. Dog, too." 

He started the car again and pulled out. Even Chicago gets empty this far
past midnight. He made it back to his apartment in record time.  

They settled Dief on the sofa with a bowl of water and, over Fraser's
objections, a plate of vanilla cookies. He looked content to stay there.  

They took their time undressing each other, although Ray needed help with
Fraser's tunic and Fraser found Ray's jeans just a bit too tight to manage
easily alone. And they spent a lot of time just kissing and touching each
other because they could and it felt good to be able to finally do that. 

Ray had never seen Fraser naked before. He felt almost as though he were
unwrapping a present himself. When he finally stripped off the last piece
of clothing, he stood back. Fraser stayed where he was, perfectly at ease.
There was no moon that night, but the streetlights were bright. His body
was as beautiful, as perfect, as his face. It glowed white as porcelain,
hairless except for dark curly patches beneath each arm and between his
legs. He was partially hard, and even that was beautiful - dark red and
thick, heavy with promise.  

And he was looking at Ray, and for just a moment, Ray caught a glimpse of
what Fraser saw...not a skinny stick of a man, but someone with strength
and a beauty of his own. No one, not his mother and not Stella, had ever
seen him as beautiful.	

Overwhelmed, he sat down on his bed. Fraser dropped beside him and began
to stroke his back gently, sending shivers up and down his spine. 

"You're so tense. What's wrong? Are you...frightened?"	

He turned to face Fraser. "Yeah. I am. Not...not of that." 

"Good. I would never, could never hurt you. I'd sooner hurt myself."  

"I know that. It's...I'm scared of what's going to happen. It's
like...I've loved you forever, or at least it feels that way, but I didn't
know you...well, I did, but not *this* way, you know?" Fraser nodded and
continued to stroke his back. "But...it's more...no one's ever loved me
like this. And in one way I'm happy, happier than I have a right to be..."


"You have a right all the happiness in the world. I'd give you it all -
every last particle - if I could." 

"Yeah, that's it." Damn. This was *not* the time to cry. "I mean, I feel
like that, too, but...that you - who could be with anyone - you love me
that much...What am I going to do when you go home, Fraser?" 

"When the time comes, we'll know. Or perhaps I'm home already." Fraser
smiled and pulled Ray into his arms again and simply held him. Ray clung
to him as tightly as he could and buried his head in one broad shoulder.
Fraser didn't say anything. He just stroked Ray's back and let him cry,
and pressed the occasional kiss on his head. Finally, worn out, Ray lifted
his face again. 

"I'm sorry. F..B...I'm sorry. Not tonight..." 

"It's all right. Tonight, we'll just be together. We'll just sleep." 

Ray nodded and let himself be put to bed. His eyes closed as soon as his
head hit the pillow. He felt Fraser climb in next to him, on the side no
one ever used, and pull up the covers. He kissed Ray gently. 

"Good night, Ray." 

"Good night...Ben." 

**** 

And now it was morning and Fraser was holding him in his arms. And he was
as glorious in the morning sun as he had been in the light of the
streetlamp.  

His eyes opened, and they were sparkling again. "Good morning, Ray." 

"Morning, Fraze." He do *this* for the rest of his life, no problem - wake
up to that face and those eyes. "Did I wake you?" 

"No matter. It's nearly the time I normally greet the day. Are you feeling
better? More rested?" 

"Yeah..." 

Those eyes did more than sparkle. They took on a glow. Fraser grinned. He
actually grinned. "Good." 

Next thing Ray knew, he was being kissed and fondled and tasted and
touched and, yes, sniffed, in places no one had ever touched, much less
sniffed, before. He felt like he was being ravaged by a hungry wolf, not
the reserved man he thought he knew. Every inch of his body was licked and
nuzzled, until he was one long erogenous zone, while his nipples and
testicles felt like they were burning brightly over all of it. Fraser used
teeth, too, but never to hurt. Ray wanted, ached to do the same to Fraser.
He knew what he wanted to do, too, but Fraser wouldn't let him.  

Then, just as Ray was about to scream from frustration, Fraser took him in
his mouth and began to take long, lazy sucks, followed by luxuriant twirls
of his tongue. And then...he stopped. 

"...Fraser....damn...." 

"I...want you...inside of me, Ray. I've been...I've been dreaming of that
since..." 

"I...I don't know how...I...no." The image in his mind was irresistible.
"Take me...now. I need you...I need to feel you...now...please...." 

"Oh, God...oh, Ray...are you sure?" 

"Fraser!"  

"Oh, yes, then, yes!"  

"Show me..." 

And Fraser did. He put Ray on his back. Ray spread his legs wide without
prompting, bending them at the knees.  

"Great Scott, you are beautiful, Ray." He reached beside the bed and
fumbled around. "I'm sorry, this will be cold." It was...Fraser was
applying gel to him, to start preparing him. Why he brought that with
him...well, trust a Mountie to always be prepared, like some uber-Boy
Scout. Ray tensed for a moment as he felt a finger probe him. It felt
*good*, though, so he relaxed and let it enter him. It was amazing, like
nothing he'd ever felt before. One finger, moving and stretching and
probing, then two, then...oh, then three and it was hurting just slightly,
but it was a good hurt. 

Then he heard a package tear. It had to be a condom. Then he felt Fraser
move until he was kneeling between Ray's legs. He could feel Fraser right
there. It was large and slick and thicker than the fingers, but it slowly
slid into him, easing its way past the ring of muscle. Once the head was
through, the rest followed. He was full and complete for the first time.
And then Fraser began to move and one thrust hit him *there* and a shock
of pure pleasure jolted him. He reached for his own penis, but Fraser
shook his head.  

Ray was confused until one of those large, gentle hands took hold. And
then he understood and simply thrust against him until the pressure grew
and he ejaculated all over Fraser's body. Fraser followed, thrusting into
him until he froze and then fell onto Ray. 

They lay like that for a long time, until Ray picked up his discarded
t-shirt and cleaned them both off. The sun was bright now, warming
Fraser's ivory skin and making him look like a man, not a statue. One
glance at the thick curly patch between Fraser's legs and he knew that,
like himself, Fraser was not satisfied yet. And now Ray was hungry. 

He latched onto Fraser's lips and ground himself into him, feeling both of
them harden as he did so. Pulling away to the sound of Fraser's groan, he
began to tease those red, sweet nipples with his mouth until they were as
painfully erect as Ray was himself. 

Fraser's skin tasted of semen and soap and wool and some undefinable sense
of "elsewhere." It was delicious and addicting and Ray continued to lick
and taste, much like Fraser had done for him. But he was not satisfied
with just an exploration. He stroked Fraser's firm buttocks and then
dipped his fingers between those cheeks. Fraser's moans became louder,
sweeter. Ray grinned. 

He began to fondle Fraser's testicles as they hung, heavy and hot, between
those legs. Fraser began to move at the twin assault. So Ray upped the
sensations and brought his mouth down on him. This, too, was sweet, and it
fit his mouth the way it had fit his body earlier. Just the thought of
where this had been only minutes before was almost enough for Ray. As for
Fraser...the moment Ray's lips touched his penis, Fraser began to howl in
pleasure and need. This was music to Ray's ears. 

He kept at him for a while and then fumbled for the lube and the condoms
that were somewhere on the bed. He sat back and let Fraser take position. 

He'd never in his life expected to see Fraser like that - on his back,
legs open in utter surrender, panting and almost crying in sheer need. It
was overwhelming, and it was all his. 

Fraser stopped him when he was about to stretch him like Fraser'd done for
Ray. 

"No. I'm not...you can do it faster. Just...oh, God, Ray...just take me
now." 

So, he lubed himself up and, oh God. He was inside of Fraser all right.
And Fraser was bearing down and keeping him, making him reach deeper and
deeper inside of him. And it was hot and it was tight and Fraser was doing
amazing things with his muscles and it had been far too long since he'd
been inside anyone and it was wonderful and right and they kept going and
going and it just kept getting better until the world exploded into very
tiny stars and their shouts woke Dief. 

Ray lay there in his ruined bed, sticky and sweaty and wrapped in his
partner's arms, his best friend's arms, and there was a white wolf
claiming bed space next to them. Life was pretty much the best it ever had
been.  

They were still in trouble, but he didn't care. Trouble could wait until
Monday morning. Today...today he was going to hold hands with his lover as
they took the wolf out for breakfast. Copyright 1999 Debra Fran Baker and
NightRoads Associates 

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