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Due South: The Reaching Out One: part 3A

See part 1A for notes, warnings, etc.  In this part:  the sex begins. 

 

In the morning, Charlie urged them to consider staying in town another night so that they could attend Sunday services the next day. A quick discussion with Ray led to an agreement to push on--although a cradle Catholic, Ray was not a regular churchgoer, so Fraser was not surprised.

That night he wrote in his journal:

Team full of energy after their night under cover. Took advantage of long stretch of clear snow to let them run full-out. After this exertion, they were calmer and more willing to work.

Ray was likewise exhilarated by this brief burst of speed. He stood up on the sled and made what can only be described as “a joyful noise” while the wind whipped tears from his eyes.

On recommendation of Etseh Parker, camped early at good spot for loche and set hooks immediately after staking dogs. Expect Ray will be reluctant to eat his share of liver. Will remind him of need for healthy fats, iron, and vitamin D in harsh northern environment.

Ray also fractious after night under cover. Is shooting spruce cones at me with slingshot purchased from middle Parker child. Will stop writing now before his aim improves.

 

Fraser carefully wrapped the journal in plastic and stowed it safely in his pack before scooping up a snowball and flinging it at Ray. Ray--displaying his usual good sportsmanship--put away the slingshot and returned fire in like kind.

Fraser was able to gain an early strategic advantage by ducking behind the tent; unfortunately, that advantage was mitigated when Ray circled around to attack him from behind, shouting, “Bombs away, sucker!” They battled fiercely for a few minutes, until Fraser started to work up a sweat. Perspiration could be a gateway to hypothermia in subzero temperatures, so Fraser knew he’d better end it quickly.

He ended it by launching himself at Ray and tumbling them both into a snow bank (after first surreptitiously scanning the area for protruding rocks, tree stumps, or other hazards, of course). “No fair!” Ray complained, attempting to wriggle out from under him.

“You started it,” Fraser pointed out reasonably, pinning Ray’s hands with his.

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Lemme up.”

“Make me,” Fraser suggested, sitting back on Ray’s thighs.

Ray gave it a good try, thrashing and bucking under him, but Fraser had the advantage of greater mass, and simply waited him out.

Waited him out, that is, until Ray managed to shift him to one side just enough that his thigh brushed against Fraser’s crotch, and--

Well. There was friction, and it had been a long time. But perhaps wrestling was not the best idea just at present. He rolled off of Ray and to his feet.

Ray sat up and, pulling off his hat, ran a hand over his hair, looking a little confused. “Frase?”

“Yes, Ray. I should--get more firewood,” he declared, the first productive activity that came to mind.

“Okay,” Ray said vaguely.

After picking up the axe from the campsite, Fraser hiked into the woods until he found a suitable fallen bough. By the time he’d chopped it into stove-sized logs, his…inappropriate physical reaction…was nothing more than a mildly embarrassing memory.

Ray was sitting by the fire, but jumped to his feet when he saw Fraser returning with an armload of wood. “Hey. Hi. You want some tea? I, uh, made tea.”

“Thank you.” He stacked the wood while Ray poured him some tea. Their fingers brushed as he accepted the tin cup.

“So, uh, we’re okay, right?” Ray shifted anxiously from one foot to the other.

“Of course, Ray. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Dunno.” Ray shrugged and sat down next to him. “Cool.”

#

 

“Success, Ray!” Fraser strode back from the lake, holding up the butt-ugliest fish Ray had ever seen, barring maybe the giant foot-long scumsucker they had at the fish and reptile store where he bought turtle stuff.

“That’s something human beings eat?” Ray demanded. “It looks like something you’d run away from.”

“It’s a loche, Ray. Very nutritious, particularly the liver.”

“Oh, God.”

Fraser slapped the fish down on a stump and slit its belly. After tossing a long string of guts into a dog bowl, he gently prized out a giant dark-brown lump the size of a woman’s fist. “Look at that,” he said happily.

“I might puke,” Ray warned him.

“Nonsense. It’s delicious. Melt some fat in the large skillet, would you?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ray had already arranged three rocks in the fire to make a rest for the kettle earlier, so it was easy to plop the skillet down on them and drop in a knob of lard.

They’d spent the amount of time it took to have a cup of tea Not Talking, capital en, capital tee, about what had happened. About how Fraser had popped a woody while wrestling him to the ground. Which was perfectly normal and nothing that hadn’t happened plenty of times when Ray was a kid and wrestling with his buddies. It didn’t mean anything.

Except that Fraser had jumped off of him and gone of into the woods alone for about as long as it would take to jerk off, which maybe meant that it did mean something.

What kind of something, Ray didn’t know.

And then they’d Not Talked about it, but the awkwardness hadn’t lasted long, and now they were just talking about other stuff. Normal.

After cutting the liver into slices, Fraser started filleting the fish, so Ray got out some flour to coat the fillets with, and added some salt and pepper. “What do you want to have with that?”

“Hm. Potatoes?”

“Sure.” He mixed up some dehydrated potatoes with dehydrated milk--a double serving, in case the fish tasted as awful as it looked.

When he got back from throwing the fish guts to the dogs, Fraser was hunkered down by the fire to cook the fish. He still had his gloves off from cleaning the fish, and Ray found himself watching Fraser’s hands as he turned the fillets over.

After a while Ray went over and stood behind him, resting his hands on Fraser’s shoulders.

“Hm?” Fraser asked.

“Nothin’.”

“Hm.” Finished turning the fish, Fraser settled back on his heels, leaning into Ray’s hands. Standing on the back of the sled all day was hard on his back these days. “Maybe tomorrow we should set some snares for rabbits.”

“Okay,” Ray agreed, kneading the muscles of Fraser’s shoulders. He’d been pretty horrified the first time Fraser killed and gutted a cute furry animal for them to eat, but after ten years he was used to it, and he was getting tired of fish.

“Mm. That feels good.” His head drooped forward; Ray tugged off his gloves one at a time with his teeth and rubbed his neck. “Tomorrow we should reach--do that again….

Ray tried to find the spot he’d hit. “Here?”

“No--” Fraser wriggled, trying to get Ray’s hands where he wanted them. “Hang on.” He shrugged out of his parka, so Ray could get at the sore spots without grabbing handfuls of Gore-Tex and down instead.

And Fraser under his hands was so relaxed and content that Ray just turned off his brain for a while and enjoyed what he was doing. They didn’t need to talk, except for little sounds of interrogation and contentment. “Mm?” Ray asked.

“Mm,” Fraser answered. “Mm!”

“Mm,” Ray agreed.

Somehow, with his brain switched off like that, it didn’t seem like any kind of a big deal to lean forward just a little bit and kiss the corner of Fraser’s mouth. Fraser didn’t--when he turned his brain back on, Ray would be shocked, but he didn’t--run away, or tense up, or say, “Pardon me, Ray?” He kissed back, all weird and upside down, until he managed to turn around so he could kiss Ray right-side-up.

Ray found himself tumbling over backwards, his head cushioned on Fraser’s parka, Fraser’s hands pressing down hard on his shoulders, Fraser’s cock rubbing against his through layers of snow pants, jeans, and thermals. His tongue surged up into Fraser’s mouth, his hands locking behind Fraser’s back, holding on for dear life.

His brain came back on line one little bit at a time. First he started hearing the fish crackling in the pan, Fraser’s fingertips turning red with cold where they were pressed into the snow, the heavy, earthy smell of the fish liver. Then he noticed another smell, acrid and artificial. “Fraser.”

“Mm?”

“Fraser, I think my boots are on fire.”

“Uh-huh.”

“No, I mean literally.”

“Oh, dear.” Fraser rolled off of him, and Ray sat up to inspect his feet.

“Not on fire,” he reported. Damn good thing, since they were a bush plane flight from the nearest shoe store. “Melted.” The deep tread on the sole of his right boot was a molten crater; the left was just a little wavy. He stomped around in the snow a little to cool them down. “And you’d better get your hands warmed up.”

Fraser was looking a little dazed. “Uh…very right.” He knocked some of the snow off of his parka, put it on, and held his hands over the fire. “Are your boots all right? If they aren’t watertight, you could be in real danger of frostbite. We’ll have to--”

“I think they’re okay,” Ray answered. He’d have to take them off and check thoroughly, but the boot soles were made of a bunch of different layers, and it looked like only the top--bottom--the outside layer melted. “We’d better eat this,” he added, pulling on a glove and taking the pans of fish and potatoes off the coals.

Fraser’s back went sort of stiff. “Yes, Ray,” he said, like he figured that was Ray’s way of saying, it never happened.

Which wasn’t what Ray meant at all. Maybe it ought to have been, but the part of his brain that would normally be saying, this is not one of your better ideas, Stanley Raymond, hadn’t switched back on yet. “No, it’s just that if we don’t eat now, it’ll be either cold or burnt, and we forgot to bring the microwave along, so….”

“Understood.” Fraser smiled shyly and handed him the plates.

The ugly fish wasn’t half bad. Ray could’ve done without the liver, but he forced a couple of bites down so that Fraser would feel like he could skip the Arctic Nutrition lecture.

The sight of Fraser licking butter and fish grease off of his fingers should have been outlawed--Ray couldn’t begin to imagine how he’d gone ten years without jumping him. He was going to be lucky to last ten more minutes.

He wound up having to last longer than that, though. Fraser insisted on cleaning up the dishes and walking along the picket line to make sure the dogs were all settled in and comfy for the night. Ray couldn’t do anything more helpful than hop along behind him saying, “Come on, Fraser, can’t we do that later?”

Finally, they were in the tent, the lantern turned down low, kneeling facing each other on the lasagna-bed, Fraser’s hands moving down the front of his parka, undoing all the fastenings. Ray felt oddly naked once the parka was pushed down over his shoulders, even though Fraser was still four layers away from skin.

Fraser leaned in and kissed him, hands steadying Ray’s shoulders. His mouth was hot, and wet, and--gah. Ray couldn’t think. Fraser’s hands dove under all four layers at once tracing a warm line up Ray’s ribs, down his chest and belly. All the blood that wasn’t in his cock seemed to rush to where Fraser’s hands were. “Ray?”

“Yeah?” Ray breathed.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Hell of a time to ask, Fraser,” Ray pointed out, nuzzling into the fur collar of his parka, trying to find some neck.

“It’s not too late,” he pointed out, sucking on Ray’s earlobe. “We could go back to how it was before.”

“Yeah, but why’d we want to?” He managed to get his hands organized enough to undo the buckles and zippers, get Fraser’s coat open. Once he was in there, he went straight for a nipple--his own were sensitive as hell in this cold, and he wanted to know if Fraser’s were too.

“Oh! Oh…my. Good point.” His hands wandered up Ray’s chest, stroking his nipples with both thumbs.

And damn, that felt good. Just…damn. He had to get his hands under Fraser’s shirts, show him what that felt like on bare skin. “Too many fucking clothes,” he mumbled, trying to undo the straps that held up Fraser’s snow-overalls.

“That buckle sticks. Just--” He took his hands out from under Ray’s shirts, making him whimper, and pushed the straps down off of his shoulders. “Better?” he asked, sliding his hands back under Ray’s shirts.

“Yeah, greatness.” Of course Fraser’s shirts were mostly tucked in, and he had that stupid red one-piece thing on, so he couldn’t get to skin in one easy motion like Fraser had--he had to untuck and burrow in and pop the buttons--buttons that one of them was going to have to sew back on tomorrow--and then, finally he had his hands on Fraser.

To look at him, anyone might have expected Fraser’s skin to feel like marble, or porcelain, or something not quite human. But it felt like skin; Fraser was human and real and gasping into Ray’s mouth, quivering like a bird-dog. “God, Ray, I don’t--Ray--”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“It’s just….” Fraser shrugged helplessly.

“I know. Okay? I know.”

That seemed like a good time to lose the rest of their clothes, which took entirely too long as far as Ray was concerned, and not only because Fraser felt like it was a good time to make sure they weren’t going to have to be airlifted out of there because Ray’s boots had melted.

Next time they did this, he was bringing extra boots, just in case.

When he was finally done with the boots, Fraser burrowed down under the blankets, and for about a second Ray thought he was going down there to check his feet, but he stopped before he got there, thank God, and if he’d thought Fraser’s mouth was hot on his mouth, it was even hotter on his dick.

Ray shut his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands over them for good measure, because if he looked, if he even thought about what Fraser was doing, he was going to shoot off right then.

Even taking every imaginable precaution, he wasn’t going to last long. Fraser swiped his tongue across the tip of Ray‘s cock, his balls tightened, and he just had time to say, “Frase, I’m--” before he did.

Fraser swarmed up against him and just held him, until he caught his breath and stopped shaking. “All right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m great. It’s, uh, been a while. That was, wow.” Fraser was going to figure out pretty fast that he dropped about fifty IQ points post-orgasm, so there wasn’t much point trying to hide it.

“I aim to please,” Fraser said.

It wasn’t too long before Ray noticed Fraser hadn’t gotten his. “Oh, hey, let me get you,” he said--real suave there, Ray--and snaked his hand down between them.

“I can take care of it.”

“Yeah, there’s a time and a place for self-reliance, and this ain’t it. Here, turn around, so your back’s against my chest.” Ray had never gone down on a guy--looked kind of like that was going to change, but maybe not today.

“I don’t want you to feel obligated--”

“Shaddup.”

“Understood.” Fraser shifted around.

His ass was right up against Ray’s crotch, and if he hadn’t just come that could’ve got real interesting real fast, but just like he was never going to see twenty again, he was never going to see two hardons inside of an hour, either. So he got Fraser in hand--so to speak--and tried a few of the strokes he used on himself.

Fraser made the right kind of encouraging noises, but he didn’t seem to be getting anywhere, and he kept making these aborted little thrusts with his hips, like he wasn’t getting quite what he wanted and didn’t know how to ask.

“Hey,” Ray said into his ear. “Hey. What’m I doing wrong?”

“It’s fine, Ray. I’m just--it’s hard for me to…I can’t always…it’s all right.” He tucked his chin down against his chest, so Ray was looking at the back of his neck, gone all pink with embarrassment.

Oh, dear--as Fraser would say. “Kind of a delicate mechanism, huh? Here, put your hand over mine, show me how you do it.”

“All right.” Fraser sounded kind of resigned, like he didn’t think it would work, but he put his hand over Ray’s, and pretty soon he figured out what he was doing wrong--or what he was doing right, and Fraser was doing wrong, which was a turn-up for the books. Fraser’s hand on his showed him that what Fraser liked was a firm grip and hard, fast strokes--but Fraser’s idea of a firm grip was just about bone-crushing, and if that was what his poor dick was used to, Ray wasn’t surprised he had trouble getting off.

They were going to have to have a little talk about how it wasn’t actually like choking a chicken, later. But he wanted Fraser to get off, so for now he gave him the kind of rough treatment he was used to. Fortunately, once Fraser saw he’d gotten the message, he relaxed his grip on Ray’s hand, and Ray jerked him hard and fast, talking to him as he went. “That’s good, Frase, am I getting it now? You like that? Okay, good. We’re buddies here, you’re fine. I’ve got you.” Fraser shuddered in his arms as he came. “All right.”

“Thank you, Ray,” Fraser said, his voice thick like he’d been crying.

“You okay?”

“Yes. Yes. I just, I don’t--do that often.”

Well, Ray didn’t either, but-- “What, not even by yourself?” He started feeling around for something he could clean up with. Normally he’d just use whatever sock, t-shirt, or shorts his hand fell on first, but they didn’t have a lot of extra clothing, and he didn’t really want to be wearing crusty shorts for the rest of the week.

“No. I realize it’s a natural biological function, but--there’s a handkerchief in my parka pocket,” Fraser said.

“Okay.” He caught Fraser’s parka by its fur collar and dug around in the pockets, left-handed. Jeeze, Fraser kept a lot of crap in his parka pockets--a couple of shotgun shells, some pemmican, some things Ray couldn’t even identify--finally he found the handkerchief. “No wonder you’re so uptight,” he said as he mopped up. You don’t drink, you don’t dance, you don’t jerk off. Well, we’ll fix that.”

“We--will?”

“Uh-huh. I for one have a healthy sex drive for an old guy.” Suddenly, it occurred to him that maybe Fraser didn’t want that. Just because he’d been into it once, didn’t mean he wanted it again.

A moment later, reason reasserted itself. This was Fraser. He didn’t do one night stands any more than he danced the hootchie-cootchie in a pink tutu while drop-kicking kittens down the stairs. And if he took it into his head to start, it sure as hell wouldn’t be with his partner. “It’s a natural biological function, but what?”

Fraser shifted against him. “But it doesn’t serve any particular purpose, other than the release of, ah, tension. And--you may have gathered--my upbringing was not one where--frivolity--was, ah, encouraged.”

“You don’t say.” Yeah, Ray knew that about him. It sort of made sense that people who didn’t think a five-year-old ought to have a toy bulldozer wouldn’t be real keen on recreational sex, either. And being shifted around from one remote town to another on Her Majesty’s whim probably didn’t do much to foster a healthy attitude toward sex, either. “Well then, we’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”

#

Sleeping naked with an equally-naked Fraser on his back was even warmer than sleeping next to him in thermals. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised--the guy was like a blast furnace, and the point of clothes was to keep heat in. With nothing between him and Fraser, all that glorious warmth was his.

The hand cupped over his dick was pretty nice, too.

He also a hard-on--another guy’s actual hard-on--pressed up against his ass, which he felt like he ought to be way more freaked out about than he was. If it had been any other guy’s, sure, that would be a problem, but this was Fraser. Ray couldn’t quite figure out why he hadn’t thought of this before. They loved each other; they understood each other. He’d managed to figure out that once he didn’t have the job tying him to Chicago, the only thing he wanted to do was be with Fraser. If he was just a little bit smarter, he could’ve had this, instead of going steady with his own right hand for ten years.

On the other hand, it was possible--hell, maybe even likely--that if he’d realized years ago that he was sexually attracted to Fraser, he’d have cut and run. Just freaked out and never seen him again. That would’ve been a hell of a shame. Maybe he needed all that time to figure out that he wasn’t straight; having sex with people he loved was his thing, and he just thought he was straight because he’d loved the same woman for most of his life. What a frigging idiot he was--he’d gone on a handful of first dates, and damn few second ones, because there wasn’t any chemistry. No wonder there hadn’t been any--he was already in love with somebody else.

Whatever. Ray wasn’t a thinker; he was a doer, and right now, there was something he wanted to be doing. Now that he’d wised up, he wanted everything. “Fraser,” he whispered, pushing back a little with his hips. “Hey, Frase.”

“Mm-hm?”

“You awake?”

“Yes, Ray,” Fraser said sleepily.

“You got something you can fuck me with?”

“Mm? Of course I--oh, you mean…yes, the goose fat salve should work, don’t you think? We have plenty of that.”

“Okay.” Goose fat salve was the stuff they used on their faces to protect the exposed skin from freezing, and to keep their eyelashes from freezing together, so he knew Fraser kept it handy. But Fraser didn’t move. “Uh, Fraser?”

“Oh--now?”

“I didn’t mean next week.”

“As you wish.” Fraser rolled away from him a little and rummaged around in his parka pockets. Ray felt unexpectedly bereft until his warm weight settled against his back again. “You’re sure this is something you want?”

“Yep.”

“Have you ever--”

“No. Come on. Pitter-patter.” He hoped Fraser didn’t get the idea Ray wanted him to hurry before he changed his mind. He wouldn’t be completely wrong, but he knew Fraser would insist on having a Serious Talk before fucking him if he thought that was the case.

“All right, be patient.” Fraser’s fingers went into the crack of his ass, rubbing the salve around his asshole as if it wasn’t any more personal than putting it on his eyelids.

Which, okay, maybe it wasn’t. It’s possible he should’ve realized some time over the last ten years of Fraser oiling up his eyelashes that what he really wanted was Fraser inside him.

“Do you want me to stretch you with my fingers first?” Fraser asked, a fingertip circling his asshole.

Good question. All Ray knew about anal sex came from locker-room jokes and a men’s magazine article he’d read with a sort of horrified fascination, which had mostly been about how to convince a girl to let you in her backdoor. “Dunno. Is that, uh, standard procedure?”

“It’s not absolutely necessary, but it can help make things go more smoothly.”

Fuck smooth. “No. Just, uh, give me it all.”

“Very well.” Fraser slicked up his cock with a wet, sucking sound, and slid into him.

“Oh. Christ.” He screwed up his eyes and scrabbled at the bedroll for something to hold on to.

Fraser stopped. “Are you all right? Am I hurting you?”

“Yeah, little bit. Keep goin’.” It hurt, kinda, but mostly he was feeling things he didn’t know how to even name. It was good, really good.

“It does get better,” Fraser said uncertainly.

“I know. Come on, give me more.”

“As you wish.” Fraser pushed into him a little more.

This was--fuck, this was something else. It felt like he was being turned inside out. Stars--fucking auroras bloomed behind his eyes. “What the hell?”

“That would be your prostate, Ray.”

“The--augh! The thing they want you to get checked for cancer all the time?”

“Yes.”

“Gotta start taking care of that thing,” he panted. “C’mon. More.”

Once Fraser was the whole way into him, he started thrusting, slow and not too deep, stroking Ray’s cock in rhythm with his thrusts. “Is this all right, Ray?”

“Yes. Yeah, yeah, it’s good. Good.” He knew he wasn’t going to last long--it was all too new, too intense. He hoped Fraser didn’t, either--he had a feeling after he came, being on his knees with his ass in the air was going to start feeling pretty stupid.

“Good. Ray. Thank you--close--”

“God, Fraser!” He came just as Fraser exploded inside him, movie-perfect. “Oh. God. That was good. Real good,” he added weakly. Fraser was slumped against his back, breathing into the back of his neck.

“Thank you,” Fraser answered, a little vaguely.

“Any time.” He chuckled. “Seriously. I mean, maybe not on the actual dogsled, but only because frostbite is a serious peril not to be taken lightly.”

“I’m glad to hear you admit that.”

“Huh? What, you were expecting some kind of big gay freakout?”

“I meant about the frostbite. Your attitude about the inherent hazards of life in the north is, at times, dangerously cavalier.”

 

On to part 3B!

 

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Comments

( 18 comments — Leave a comment )
chikan4
Apr. 18th, 2008 12:04 pm (UTC)
and hot sex it is!

“Fraser.”

also:

“Mm?”

“Fraser, I think my boots are on fire.”

“Uh-huh.”

“No, I mean literally.”


LOL!



alex51324
Apr. 18th, 2008 02:22 pm (UTC)
Glad you liked it! That particular exchange seems to have been a crowd-pleaser. I based it--very loosely--on an occasion when I melted my boots on a campfire. Unfortunately, I was only reading at the time.
julia_here
Apr. 18th, 2008 07:02 pm (UTC)
Campfires are notoriously hard on shoes: Mom lost a pair of Keds to the cooking fire at Oyehut when she put them on the hot sand to dry overnight; I melted the stitches in a pair of hiking boot soles and had to hike out of the Olympics with them going flap-flap-flap all the way.

Julia, fatigue and distraction can cause all sorts of oopsies.
wihluta
Apr. 18th, 2008 12:37 pm (UTC)
Will stop writing now before his aim improves.
LOL, he better!

“Fraser, I think my boots are on fire.”
“Uh-huh.”
“No, I mean literally.”
“Oh, dear.”

ROFL!!

And lol, only Ray and Fraser would be able to have mindblowing sex and talk all matter-of-fact like while doing it. Great stuff.

I really hope that at the end Ray will stay in Deline.
alex51324
Apr. 18th, 2008 02:26 pm (UTC)
Ray stay in Deline? Oh, no, don't be silly! At the end of the story Ray decides it will be best if they go back to Chicago and never speak again. Fraser finds this so hard to deal with that he becomes a Trappist monk and never speaks again, period. And then Ray changes his name to Tritter and moves to New Jersey, where he spends the rest of his life attempting to drive people away from their best friends.

No, not really. How do you *think* it ends?
wihluta
Apr. 18th, 2008 03:04 pm (UTC)
HA!
I knew you were planning to break all your readers hearts at the end! ;-)

Fraser finds this so hard to deal with that he becomes a Trappist monk and never speaks again, period. I just almost spit tea over my loan application because of that. That would be one hell of an ending. LOL

Also, dS/House x-over? Mh, could be interesting...
grey853
Apr. 18th, 2008 12:37 pm (UTC)
LOL, only Ray could catch his boots on fire the first time he makes out with Fraser. Silly boys.

Another great part.
alex51324
Apr. 18th, 2008 02:26 pm (UTC)
He didn't catch them on fire, he only melted them a little! And he didn't notice on account of all the hotness.

Glad you liked!
brigantine
Apr. 18th, 2008 03:50 pm (UTC)
Ray also fractious after night under cover. Is shooting spruce cones at me with slingshot purchased from middle Parker child. Will stop writing now before his aim improves.

Hee! This says so much about Ray, about Fraser, and about Them. Am dancing dorky little happy-dance around this bit.

And then there's all the stuff that comes after it, which is pretty darned groovy. ;D

(edit, 'cause I apparently fail at html)

Edited at 2008-04-18 03:59 pm (UTC)
alex51324
Apr. 19th, 2008 02:33 am (UTC)
Thanks for reading! Poor Ray, he has such a hard time sitting still while Fraser writes in the Quest Journal.
(Deleted comment)
alex51324
Apr. 19th, 2008 02:32 am (UTC)
Promised who? You can comment as much as you like, as far as I'm concerned.

Thanks for reading!
julia_here
Apr. 18th, 2008 05:34 pm (UTC)
Hot and funny sex, and what a great way, as they say, to start the day.

Julia, laughter, insight, and goose-greese, what a combination
alex51324
Apr. 19th, 2008 02:35 am (UTC)
Thanks for reading!
chaoskir
Apr. 18th, 2008 08:51 pm (UTC)
Yeah! They got it! Great! I do love that story. Alex you are a wonderful writer and I like your hot sex scenes. Aähm wait, it's not yours it's Fraser and Rays hot sex-scene and yours. Thanks a lot for the soon and great written long update. Today I sat in my office and thought a lot about this story. I hate that the idiots at work blocked the lj-sites. I have to wait untill I'm at home for reading your update and stopping my detox. And today was a long work day.
galenlisle
Apr. 19th, 2008 12:35 am (UTC)
“You got something you can fuck me with?”

“Mm? Of course I--oh, you mean…

Hee!
alex51324
Apr. 19th, 2008 02:34 am (UTC)
"Why yes, Ray, I have this erection right here!"

Thanks for reading.
keerawa
Jul. 28th, 2008 10:45 pm (UTC)
Ray was likewise exhilarated by this brief burst of speed. He stood up on the sled and made what can only be described as “a joyful noise” while the wind whipped tears from his eyes. Fraser is in looooove.

The scene with the boots melting had me laughing. Hurray for them finally catching the clue bus!
plotbunniofdoom
Mar. 1st, 2009 04:13 am (UTC)
*G*

and also

*guh*

I love how in character they both are whilst having sex!
( 18 comments — Leave a comment )