torino10154: Glass of firewhiskey (Firewhiskeyfic)
Keeper of the Cocks ([personal profile] torino10154) wrote in [community profile] firewhiskeyfic2024-04-15 09:48 am
Entry tags:

ENTRY #4

Title: this is what I want
Author: [personal profile] verushka70
I am of legal drinking age in my region: yes
Pairing(s)/Characters/Fandom: Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski, due South
Challenge/Prompts used: Sex Ed, Honey, Well-Bred, Total Eclipse (of the Heart)
Summary: Fraser and Ray get domestic and get down
Rating/Warnings: NC-17/explicit. No archive warnigs apply; this gets really smutty
Word count: 4,569
Author's Notes (if any):First FWF participation... a combination of beer and legal THC edibles... more of the latter than teh former, because combinatinos like that are tricky. It felt like I typed really slow and ittook forever and I did get contnanty disacted like you do when hyoure stoned but then it turned out over 4,500 words whenI wasn't paying tattention! The line "How could anyone have you and lose you?" in this fic is taken from the song Los Ageless by St. Vincent.

“Fraser, whatare you doing?” Ray said as Fraser got into the GTO with a stack of five books (and Diefenbaker,who happily jumped in the back seat after Ray kindly pushed the passenger seat back, since Fraser’s hands were full of books.

“Are you stealing library books again?” he said, just to poke a little fun at Fraser, who would never steal anything, least of all library books.

“Certainly not, Ray - they’re property of the library, and for all the public to enjoy,” fraser answered - pretty much the type of answer Ray had expected.

He didn’t look long or hard, but Ray could have sworn “sex” or “sexuality” was in the title on the spine of at least one of thebooks.

“The nuns at my high school would’ve loved you,” Ray pointed out. “Pretty much a bookworm as a kid, huh?”

“Oh, I didn’t need to be - my grandparents were librarians. Traveling librarians,” Fraser reminded Ray.

“Right. Okay, so - what do you want for dinner? Hong Min’s, Damenzo’s, Hawkeye’s sandwiches to go - or should we order in.”

“In, I think, Ray. There’s a Blackhawks versus Maple Leafs game on tonight. I thought you might want ot watch that.”

Ray smiled as he pulled away from the curb. That was his partner and buddy - anticipating what he liked. “I am all over that, Frase. Just thought I’d ask. ‘Sides - you’ll want to watch too. I know you.”

Fraser smiled to himself. “Indeed you do, and yes - I will,” Fraser replied.

They went to Ray’s apartment, like they usually did, and ordered pizza for delivery, like they often did. Fraser read one of his library books during commercial breaks and play stoppages, until they pizza arrived. Then eh set th ebooks aside where pizza grease couldn’t get on them, and watched the rest of the game with Ray while eating pizza.

The game went into sudden death the end of the third period. Before the sudden death period, there were a lot of commercials, so Fraser helped Ray clear up the food from the coffee table and wipe it down before returning to a book… until play resumed.

The Leafs ultimately won, and Ray declared himself “bummed out.” Fraser tried not to gloat but couldn’t entirely prevent himself from teasing Ray about the ‘Hawks’ sub-par playing that not. But his teasing was gentle. He didn’t want Ray moody and ornery, as he tended to get when the ‘Hawks lost - especially if they lost to a Canadian team.

Fraser settledon the couch with Ray after the game, each in his own corner with their feet together, legs side by side. While ray watched late night television, Fraser got absorbed in a book.

When Ray hauled himself up from the sofa and said, “I gotta hit the hay, Frase - work tomorrow,” Fraser bookmarked his library book and they went to bed.

Brushing their teeth side by side in the bathroom was one of the quiet, simple pleasures of the domesticity they had fallen into that Fraser deeply appreciated, although he’d never spoken of it. They’d simply crowd around the bathroom sink together, Fraser in his union suit (“adult onesie,” Ray called it), Ray usually in just his briefs, shirtless.

It felt like home - like family - to brush their teeth together, Fraser thought. He hadn’t officially moved in with Ray, but it seemed not impossible that Ray might eventually ask him to, and that secret hope and desire brimmed in his full heart when they stood side by side, brushing their teeth.

When they went to bed, Ray turned to Fraser and kissed him and slipped an arm around him. They were soon kissing passionately and as one thing led to another, Fraser thought of the books he’d taken out from the library and hoped that he could impmrove their love life. That thought quickly faded as they stripped out of their pajamas – or underwear, in Ray’s case – and, not that much later, lubricant and condoms were needed.

Later, sweat cooling as they lay panting up at teh ceiling, shoulder to shoulder, Ray sighed happily. “It’s so good with you, you know,” he murmured.

“I quite agree,” Fraser whispered back. They clasped hands and fell asleep that way. Later when Ray awoke to stumble off to the bathroom, Fraser sat up, uncertain if he should head back to the Consulate - where he currently lived until he could find better arrangements - or Ray asked him to move in - or spend the night. He knew what he wanted, but he didn’t want to impose… and also preferred to be completely certain by Ray asking him to spend the night.

Upon his return to the bedroom, Ray looked at Fraser sitting up. “Need to use the can?” he asked.

“No, not especially,” Fraser replied, low.

“Stay, why doncha, then,” Ray asked. As he climbed back into bed, Fraser felt that warmth and fullness in his heart that came with being asked to stay.

“All right,” Fraser agreed happily, and lay back down thinking he probably should have said “I’d love to”. How else how would Ray know? But he never wanted to pressur Ray into anything. He wanted to be asked each time, though.

He didn’t want to look for an apartment; he didn’t want to continue living at the Consulte… he wanted to move in with Ray. But he felt it would be ill-bred to simply ask… so he simply procrastinated getting another apartment and hoped that eventually Ray would realize that was the next logical step. They were together every night anyway, and often many afternoons as Fraser helped Ray with his cases.

He was armed with books. He was an avid reader and liked to implement what he learned from books. Might that be enough to prompt Ray to ask what fraser so dearly wanted to hear? He could only hope.

~ ~ ~

They had unfortunately been crawling through a dumpster the next afternoon, looking for receipts mixed in with food waste, to try find receipts and paperwork to nail the owner of a very expensive, exclusive restaurant - who had been implicated in embezzlement by anonymous calls to the 27th district’s anonymous tip line. It could’ve been merely disgruntled wait staff, Ray thought, except he and Fraser had actually tried that restaurant several times - and despite the many small “Reserved” signs on all the best tables, the place was rarely even half full. And although expensive, not enough food was actually served for them to be making the money that the receitps showed… nor was there a take-out option.

Feeling gross and greasy and just generally filthy, Ray sighed. “I think this is about all we’re gonna find.” He squeezed the receipts he’d found and the paper made a distinct crinkling sound.

“For now,” Fraser agreed. He shook off the receipts he was able to find and handed them to Ray.

“Jesus, we reek,” Ray muttered. “I think we need to hose off. At my house. In the shower.”

Frase pressed on the small of his back and stretched slightly. His back had been bothering him a little off and on since he’d fallen off the roof of the back porch of one of their cases. “That wold be very welcome at this juncture,” he replied to Ray.

Ray stuffed the receipts into his jacket pocket, wincing. “Now this’ll have to be dry cleaned,” he complained.

“Nonsense,” Fraser said, climbing out of the dumpster. “I can clean that jacket for you, without chemicals and without shrinking it.”

Ray looked doubtful a moment, but then brightened. “Okay, you can take a shot at it,” he allowed with a smile.

“Very well. And, I assure you, Ray - I’m very good with an iron.”

“I’m sure you are,” Ray added, as he climbed up out of the dumpster after fraser.

~ ~ ~

Later, toweling off his hair and lettinkg Fraser get in the shower, Ray thought about Fraser ironing his jacket. He wasn’t worried; Fraser was good at pretty much everything, so he’d probably be great at ironing… although it was almost a disturbing thought, given how much Turnbull was into ironing… though with Turnbull it seemed to be table cloths, napkins, and kitchen towels.

Ironing seemed so… so… so domestic, Ray thought. Although, come to think of it, Stella had never been big on it - and not particularly good at it, either. She rarely ironed her own clothes - and the one time she’d ironed a shirt for Ray, she’d scorched it. He should have known then that they weren’t meant to be, but at the time he’d had a sneaking suspicion that Stella only scorched his shirt so he would never again ask her “hey, if you’re ironing, nhow about a couple of my shirts while hyour’e at it?”

When Fraser emerged from the shower, towel around his waist, Ray was comfortable in sweats and a T-shirt, and lounging on his sofa, channel surfing.

“Want to order in?” he called to Fraser as he dried off his hair.

“I could cook something,” Fraser responded. “I wouldn’t want you to spend so much.”

“Not much in the house to cook,” Ray admitted.

Fraser finally entered the living room in boxers and a sleeveless T-shirt… a look that Ray loved but had never mentioned toFraser.

“Nonsense - you have canned goods and pasta. I’ll just whip something up and it will be as good as any restaurant,” Fraser suggested.

“I mean…” Ray began uncertainly. “If you really want to, mi casa, et cetera.”

“Thank you, Ray,” Fraser nodded. He padded barefoot into the kitchen nook. “Let me just see what you have.” he rummaged through the cabinets, finding linguini, rotini, tomato sauce,. He thought that would do nicely. When he opened the refrigerator, he thought he might as well check the freezer. Lo and behold, Ray had a pound of frozen ground beef in there.

Whatwe really need is some garlic, Fraser thought. He knew tht much from Ma Vecchio’scooking. Not too much, but just enough to let you know it was there. Well, the spices in Ray’s spick rack, gathering dust, would have to suffice.

While Fraser’s back was turned, Ray stole long glances at him as he cooked. The apartment soon smelled of simmering, meaty tomato sauce. The steam of the pasta Fraser threw into a colander flashed up like a cloud, and dissipated like fog. Ray looked at the vulnerable, short-trimmed back of Fraser’s head and neck, at the little knob at the top of his spine, and felt touched. Longing and hesitataion equally stilled his throat.

Everything in his life that had gone the way he’d wanted it to, hadn’t turned out to what hed thought it would be. He didn’t want that to happen with Fraser, too… but the reality of Fraser cooking delicious-smelling food with quiet competence - and a secret desire to please - in his kitchen, made him hope that Stella had been a fluke, or they just grew apart, or maybe he just never could stop looking at other men, even if he’d never done anything about it while she and Ray were together.

To see it that way, though, meant that he’d told himself he could do the impossible, and try to be fully straight. Not for lack of trying by he or Stella; that was the one thing that had actually been really good with them, pretty much the whole time; the sex. It was the one area of their personalities where he and Stella had really meshed. It wasn’t a great basis for a marriage, at least not long term. Though that didn’t stop them from falling in bed together, even after their marriage was over. Stella just was so natural, hungry for him, horny, not afraid to show it. It was impossible for Ray to resist her. Maybe part of it was, you would never know it to look at her at work. He wondered if that contrast was part of the attraction. Although it seemed to follow logically that when she was a tiger in the court room, she might as well be a lioness in the bedroom. She gave as good as she got, and Ray gave her a lot. And only her. For a long time.

He shook his head, returning to the present from a moment lost in thought. Ray watched Fraser plate both the pasta and the sauce in serving dishes so they could serve themselves the perfect amount of each to suit his taste. Fraser looked at him over the breakfast nook bar and shrugged politely.

“It’s a bit messy for your living room.”

“Potentially messy.”

“Oh, no - I’ll think you’ll find that, eaten properly, it is almost certainly going to be messy.”

Ray grinned, thinking of the more risque things one could eat messily. “Right on.”

Fraser blushed and turned to get silverware out of a drawer. Though why call it silverware hwen it was really stainless steel ware.

“Jesus, Fraser, this is amazing.”

“Nothing the addition of the proper herbs and spices can’t create,” he said self-dpreicatingly. “Though, you should use your herbs and spice more, Ray. Some are already well past their prime.”

“That’s ‘cause I never use ‘em,” Ray answered, swirling up another forkful of saucy linguini. “This is fantastic, Frase. It’s like Ma Vecchio’s.”

Fraser glowed with the flare of heat in his cheeks at Ray’s praise. “That’s very generous, Ray.”

“No, really,” Ray replied enthusiastically. “Eat, Frase. You made it and it’s fucking delicious.”

Language, Ray,” Fraser cautioned, leaning forward and swirling up a forkful of linguini in the meaty sauce. “I think I have too much meat in my sauce. Not quite the right proportions.”

“Are you crazy? This is the perfect amount of meat: meaty. It’s meat sauce, not marinara.”

“A;though I do love a good marinara sauce,” Fraser pointed out.

“Oh sure. But marinara’s got nothing on meat sauce.”

“True,” Fraser admitted. He wondered sometimes if medical research could be certain of the supposed cardiovascular effects of eating a high red meat diet. He’d certainly known plenty of people like that growing up, almost everywhere he and his grandparents had moved. He’d surely know of many more cardiovascular deaths if what they said was true. Fraser also felt that snowmobile accidents could be vastly reduced if safe snowmobiling classes were offered to communities, but his superiors seemed to think that the problem could be solved by simply arresting people who drank and snowmobiled at night in the dark. Especially if they got into an embarrassing one-snowmobile mishap accident. Not surprisingly, many were fatal.

“Oh man, I gotta stop eating this, or else eat a ton more of it,” Ray said, scraping his plate with a spoon to get the last bits of sauce up.

“We can save it and get it from the referigerator later for supper,” Fraser said.

“That was supper, Fraser. Between chasing that guy and this fantastic linguini, I’m ready for a nap.”

“I understand the impulse,” Fraser agreed. He was pleasantly full and a little sore from today’s earlier exertions as well.

“Well, let’s take a nap, then,” Ray offered, and went down the hall to his bedroom.

It was good not to be in the shoulder holster. He rolled his shoulders in his T-shirt.

“Very well,” Fraser seemed to sound rather cautious suddenly. But he followed Ray to Ray’s bedroom.

They lay down side by side, not fully clothed in Fraser’s case, and very casually clothed, in Ray’s. Sometimes Ray thought of regular work clothes - well, the clothes everybody else wore - as too hard to take off. Buttons. Neckties. Who needed ‘em.

The ceiling fan above them didn’t move because it wasnt on. Ray thought of the summer to come and blurted. “Are you doing all this domestic stuff because you want me to ask you to move in? Because I already wanted to ask you to move in. I just couldn’t find the right time. I’m not really great at this stuff. I mean, it’s been a long time.”

Fraser quietly absorbed Ray’s words. “I understand, Ray.”

“No, really,” Ray emphasized.

Fraser turned on his side and looked at Ray. Ray looked at him. “I do understand. Because I was doing… all these things for you because… I want to be in your life. I want to be indispensable in your life.”

Ray rolled on his side, too, and faced Fraser. “Don’t get me wrong, Frase. You’re great at… domestic stuff, way better than me. Me, I need a cleaning lady. You don’t. But you don’t have to do all this domestic stuff unless you really want to.”

“Well,” Fraser equivocated, “If I move in, I’ll already be doing it for myself, anyway. Adding your laundry to mine won’t substsantially change the work involved. Perhaps the amount of time it takes, if that.”

“I’m just - I just don’t want you to think you have to do this stuff to be welcome in my place and with me, is all,” Ray finished.

“All right. I won’t,” Fraser promised. He put a hand on Ray’s jaw and smoothed his thumb over Ray’s cheekbone.

Ray grasped his wrist and pulled Fraser’s hand until he kissed Fraser’s palm. “Good.”

That could have led to something, but both men ruefully looked at each other.

Ray said, “Fraser I’m kinda beat.”

Fraser nodded, slightly relieved “Understood.”

He rolled back and stared at the ceiling a moment. He groped for Ray’s hand. He found it. Ray’s hand squeezed his back at approximately twice the strength Fraser had grasped it, and Fraser relaxed and closed his eyes.

~ ~ ~

They woke in the semi-dark of twilight. Ray woke first and yawned, head pillowed on the bedpillow and Fraser’s arm under it, Fraser snugged up behind him, spooning him. He felt Fraser’s warm, even breathing on the back of his neck. Tickled, just slightly. Ray closed his eyes and drifted. When he felt the body behind his subtly shift, and the breath on the back of his neck quickened slightly, he knew Fraser was awake.

Ray pushed his butt playfully back against Fraser and felt a firm, stiff response.

“Fraser,” Ray murmured. “That for me?”

“Yes it is,” Fraser whispered back, his breath stirring the fine hairs on the back of Ray’s neck.

Ray smiled to himself. “Awesome,” he growled. He took Fraser’s left hand from where it draped over his chest and shoved it down, so Fraser could feel his rising arousal.

Fraser gripped him and started a slow, sensual handjob that soon had Ray moaning. “The hell, Fraser,” Ray groaned. “I thought you were right handed.”

“I am, but I try to practice ambidextrism. It’s supposed to be good for the brain.”

“It’s not my brain that’s got me moaning,” Ray sighed. He bucked his hips faster, but Fraser blew a cool breath across Ray’s nape and Ray shivered. He was hard as a rock in Fraser’s grasp, and the slow strokes and manipulations made him want more. And faster. And harder.

“Ray,” fraser whispered. “Just let me.”

“Fraser… I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” Ray gasped as Fraser slid his slippery thumb slowly across the head of his cock.

“I’m hoping much more,” Fraser admitted.

Ray groaned wordlessly and pressed harder back against Fraser. They both still had their clothes - such as they were - Ray in sweats and T; Fraser in boxers and sleeveless T - all the way on, except fraser had pulled Ray’s underwear down enough to get a good grip on him.

Fraser slid down in bed and shoved Ray onto his stomach. He pulled Ray’s sweats and briefs down to mid-thigh and kissed and nipped a buttock. He kissed the base of Ray’s spine.

“Get down there, Fraser, you know what I want,” Ray begged.

Fraser licked a long stripe up Ray’s left buttock and Ray shivered again. “All in due time,” Fraser murmured into Ray’s warm cleft.

Between Fraser’s strong hands and clever tongue, Ray was nearly incoherent with begging by the time Fraser had them both naked from the waist down.

“Ray, roll over,” Fraser said, getting up on all fours and leaning over to reach in the bedside table drawer.

Ray rolled on his back under Fraser. “Hey, wait.” He stopped Fraser’s reaching hand by grasping Fraser’s forearm.

Fraser and he gazed at each other across the short distance, Fraser’s eyebrows lifted curiously. Ray shook his head. He put his hands on Fraser’s jaw then.

“We don’t need that stuff,” Ray said roughly. “I haven’t been with anyone else in… I don’t know how long.”

Fraser breathed evenly. “I’m sure that you do know, Ray. You don’t have to say it.”

Ray’s mouth quirked. “Okay, yeah. I know how long. And if I know, then I think you know. It’s just us. I get if you want to be all proper and health conscious and safe and all that. Im just saying, you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

Fraser pressed his forehead to Ray’s and closed his eyes. “I… thank you, Ray. If you don’t want to…”

“No, it’s not that,” Ray said, pressing his own forehead against Fraser’s just as hard. “Whatever you want. Or need. Just, don’t feel like you have to. For me, or because of me. You’re it for me. I’ll be whatever you want.”

Fraser sighed heavily, happily. “You don’t have to be anyone but who you are, Ray.” He paused. “But I think lubricant is a good idea for what we’re about to do next.”

“Okay. whatever you want,’ Ray answered, and relaxed back on the bed.

Fraser leaned over and reached in the bedside drawer, this time for real. Ray didn’t stop him, and Fraser grabbed the lube. But as he slid back down on Ray, he continued on until he could take Ray in his mouth. Ray gasped, not expecting the sudden heat and hot tight suction of Fraser’s mouth.

Fraser’s oral skills kept bringing Ray to the edge and then stopping. The third time, Ray wanted to scream. “Fraser… damn, I am so close, what the hell are you…”

Fraser took his mouth off entirely and spoke. “Getting you ready.”

“You already did that when I was on my stomach.”

“Oh, no, Ray - that was just the beginning.”

Fraser slid up between Ray’s legs, his shoulder to the back of Ray’s knee, Ray splayed wide beneath him. He had slicked himself up but not Ray - Ray had no idea when.

“This is what I want, Ray,” Fraser growled. And he pushed against the tight little ring of muscle. Ray relaxed and let Fraser in, but Fraser stopped. He waited until Ray was subtly squirming and then he shoved in a little more.

“Jesus,” Ray breathed. “Too slow.”

“No, Ray,” Fraser murmured, voice low and heavy with effort. “It’s too fast.”

He very slowly pushed in farther and stopped. “Fraser,” Ray whined. “What the f–”

“Sh,” Fraser told him, and lay down on him completely, and inched a little further inside.

“Oh, fuck,” Ray moaned.

It seemed to take forever for Fraser toget inside Ray. It was excruciating. It was amazing. Ray wanted Fraser to bang him like a screen door in a thunderstorm. But then Fraser began a super slow, shallow back andn forth rhythm inside him and Ray hissed out a breath.

Fraser fucked Ray like a bee drunkenly buzzing from flower to flower. Slow, sure, a little intoxicated with the pleasure, wanting to feel every sensation.

“Fraser, I’m gonna–”

Fraser stopped moving. Ray whimpered. “Oh, god, come on, please…”

“You can do this,” Fraser whispered. “Don’t come yet, Ray.” He felt Ray’s arms start to move and shifted his own to hold them in place. “For me. Don’t come yet.”

Ray swallowed audibly, inhaling a shuddering breath. “I’ll try,” he breathed shakily. “No guarantees.”

Fraser’s heart was filled to the brim. “How could anybody have you and lose you.”

Ray knew who Fraser meant, and the thought strangely didn’t bother him anymore, even in the middle of sex with someone else.

He inched back and forth once inside Ray, and Ray whimpered again. “Oh…”

Fraser’s movements elongated but moved no faster. Ray moaned, eyes closed, so close to the wave cresting but resigned to the tight hold he had on himself somehow.

He felt a drop of water on his face and opened his eyes. A drop of sweat had beaded on Fraser’s forehead and swelled until it fell on Ray’s face. As he watched, more sweat gathered on Fraser’s furrowed brow. He looked Fraser in the eye and saw the focus and concentration - and yes, the need to please, desperate to please Ray more than anyone or anything ever had or ever would.

Ray leaned his face closer, despite being held down. He kissed Fraser feverishly, and something broke loose in Fraser. He made a guttural sound and then really began fucking Ray: hard, fast, rough, their foreheads sliding against each other’s.

Ray almost felt more than heard the hoarse moan coming from his own throat. “I can’t,” he gasped to Fraser. “I can’t anymore…”

“Come for me, Ray,” Fraser whispered.

And Ray did, shudders wracking his body so that he almost thought it was probably a good thing someone was holding him down. Fraser’s movements became more frenzied, and their moans mingled. The bliss was somehow more than in their bodies, more than the smoke of their spirits entwined; their oneness an eclipse of individual hearts. Ray didn’t think he’d ever felt this much pleasure, this much happiness, this much hope. He felt Fraser jerk weakly against him with his last aftershocks, and hummed softly.

Then Fraser collapsed on him, and their violent panting was the only motion and the only sound for a long time.

When their breathing had calmed and they’d caught their breath, they slid apart. Ray let his leg down to a normal position. He’d be sore tomorrow, but it had been so worth it.

“How much stuff do you have to move?” he whispered to Fraser.

“A few boxes, and my uniforms and clothes,” Fraser answered quietly.

“Okay, tomorrow after work, let’s get them,” Ray said, patting the thigh Fraser still had laying across his leg. He thought of Fraser’s tea and made a mental note to get honey, which Fraser preferred over sugar.

“Thank you, Ray,” Fraser murmured.

“And Dief’s bowls and stuff.”

Fraser smiled in the dark. “Of course.”

“Where the hell in the Great White North did you learn that.” Ray was so blissed out he couldn’t open his eyes, but he could smile. He patted Fraser’s thigh again. “Taht was unbelievable.”

“Oh, I didn’t learn that back home,” Fraser admitted. “I learned taht here.”

Ray opened his eyes. “With who?” he asked, shocked to hear that Fraser had had another, somehow secret lover, here in Chicago before Ray Kowalski ended up in his life undercover.

“With myself,” Fraser answered. “And the local branches’ sexual education sections of the Chicago Public Library.”

Ray closed his eyes again, relieveds. “You did not learn that from a book.”

There was a long pause. “It was… information from multiple books. Combined,” Fraser admitted.

It sounded like he was smiling, and when Ray laughed, he tugged Fraser to him in a tight hug. “Show me these books,” he whispered. “When we wake up again, show me the books.”

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