Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski

Rating: NC-17 almost

Notes: I wrote this in response to a challenge that I posed to another writer to write a totally new story about our boys for 30-45 minutes, utilizing a toilet plunger. Well, I wrote for 45 minutes but never actually got to the plunger. Maybe next time.

Thanks to Gearbox for the title. You are so cool, chick.

This for dr, who not only plays along with me when Im like this but says she enjoys it.

Feedback gratefully accepted at: Jayheffus@yahoo.com

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Yank
by Journey

 

"JahearboutJenkins?"

Fraser turned his head from the window and looked at his partner. "I'm sorry?"

Ray shook his head and removed the toothpick he'd been chewing from his mouth, then enunciated more clearly, "Did you hear about Jenkins?"

Fraser was still blank. "Officer Dan Jenkins? The uniformed patrolman?"

"Yeah, Fraser. Officer Dan Jenkins, the uniformed patrolman, did you hear what happened to him?"

"Last night, you mean?"

"Yeah, last night. So, you heard already?"

"I've heard nothing whatsoever Ray. As you know, I haven't been at the precinct at all today until you picked me up for this stake-out."

"Then, why'd you say..."

"Well, Ray I merely ascertained from your comment that something had happened to Officer Jenkins between the last time I'd seen him, which was yesterday afternoon, and now when you mentioned it and the most logical explanation was that something had happened last night. It's simple deductive reasoning, as I'm sure you are aware, since you yourself use this kind of reasoning," Fraser stopped talking, but then was forced to add, "from time to time" to satisfy his internal requirement for honesty.

"All *right*, Fraser."

Ah. Now Ray was irritated. Fraser sighed and waited for more information regarding Officer Jenkins. When none was forthcoming he ventured, "So what happened?"

"Figured you could ascertain that for yourself, Fraser." Ray's sarcastic tone gnawed at Fraser but he refrained from comment. And eventually, silence won out. "He was seen last night."

"Doing what?"

"Dancing."

Fraser waited but to no avail. "Well, dancing is hardly something that..."

"Wasn't the dancing, Fraser. It was where he was dancing, and who with."

"With whom," Fraser corrected automatically.

"Another guy, that's with whom." Ray put the toothpick back into his mouth and chewed on it again while staring out the front window.

"Ah." Fraser rubbed his eyebrow and sighed. "What happened exactly?"

"Couple of guys from Vice had a tip about drugs going down in the alley behind this gay bar called The Nineties. Some came at it from the back and some went in the front through the bar. That's where he was, that's where they saw him."

"Dancing in a bar is no crime, Ray."

"That is true, Fraser, so's long as you're not a cop dancing and rubbing up against your guy partner in a gay bar."

Fraser feigned a tone of confusion. "Rubbing up, Ray?"

Ray's quick glance gave evidence of his suspicion, but Fraser kept his face carefully blank. "You know, Fraser, hip action in front and hand action in the back." The movement of Ray's hips that accompanied this explanation was exceedingly graphic.

"Ah, yes. I believe I do understand, perhaps if you demonstrated that particular move again I could get a clearer picture..." and Fraser waited, but evidently his mask wasn't as controlled this time given Ray's response.

"You dumb Canuck. Quit yanking my chain. You know perfectly well what I'm talking about." Ray's grin was a little embarrassed, but conveyed true affection.

"But your explanations are so illuminating, Ray. I thoroughly enjoy them."

"Enjoy watching me put on a show, you mean. I get you." Ray shoved Fraser's shoulder playfully and went back to staring out the window.

Fraser, too, turned his attention to the seemingly empty building in front of them. "What will happen to Officer Jenkins?"

"Jenkins? Nothing, officially, but he's been outed now and unofficially, that can lead to some problems."

"That would seem to be unfair."

"Unfair, maybe, but that's the way it'll be. Most cops don't like the idea they might be checked out by their own partner, you know? You gotta trust your partner." Ray twirled the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. "You ever been checked out by your partner, Fraser?" Casually.

Fraser's senses went on alert, but he answered in a measured tone. "Not that I am aware of. Although there was that one time..."

Ray's head whipped around to stare at him. "That one time? What happened, Fraser?"

"I'm sure it was all a misunderstanding on my part, Ray."

"Spill it, Fraser. What did you misunderstand?"

"Well, on a company tracking and survival exercise, it became necessary for myself and another Cadet to hole up in a hastily erected snow shelter when we were overtaken by a blizzard. The snow shelter was perfectly adequate and not uncomfortable, but Cadet Framm seemed to be experiencing some sort of ...reaction that caused him to require full body contact for the duration of the storm. As for his hands grasping my.... well, I'm sure that was a simple case of mistaken identity during sleep." Fraser felt his face get red.

"So, while you two were holed up in some igloo during a blizzard, this Framm guy plastered himself to you and groped you. And you can sit there and tell me you think you've never been hit on by your partner?"

"Oh, no, Ray. He never hit me." Fraser went for role of the fool, but he could tell by his partner's expression, that he wasn't buying it.

"Oh, no you don't. Not going get me twice tonight. Not over some clumsy-light-in-his-red-boots-Mountie-wannabe."

"Clumsy?" Fraser heard himself ask.

"No style, that's what. He had no style." Ray's hands drummed on the steering wheel and he rolled the toothpick from side-to-side in his mouth.

"And how could what you say he did possibly be more...stylish, as you say?" Fraser asked, carefully choosing his words but unable to look away from the front window to meet Ray's eyes.

"If I were wanting to get my hands on your equipment, I'd be more subtle."

"Why is that?" Fraser concentrated on continuing to breathe.

"Because it is obvious to anyone who has talked to you for more than two minutes, that you, Fraser, are not a casual bump-and-grind kind of guy."

"How so?"

"Fraser, you blush if someone bats her eyes at you, you shy away from all but the most innocent physical contact, you are a gentleman. You have class and politeness and reserve and none of that will be breached by adolescent fumbling. I bet you just reached down, moved his hand and returned it to him, all without saying a word."

Ray glanced at him from the corner of his eye, but Fraser could not have found a verbal response inside him if his life had depended on it.

"A guy like you, has to be approached gently and sincerely or you're going to run, or be oblivious, or pretend you don't know what the hell is going on."

"How would you..." Fraser listened to his voice in amazement. What was he doing? What was Ray doing, what was going on here?

"Small touches, light, non-threatening for a long time. So gradually you come to expect them, not question them. Then maybe I'd up the level a little, an arm around your shoulder once in a while, offer you a hand to get up--one that holds on for a little bit, a hug now and again."

Fraser felt the small of his back sweating, the perspiration beading on his forehead. "Then what would you... suggest?"

"Then, maybe one day, maybe on a stake-out I'd tell you some story about a gay cop and then I'd let my hand rest on your knee" and without looking Ray's hand landed on Fraser's thigh "so you'd have some warning, then maybe I'd turn and put my hand in your hair," Fraser leaned into the touch of fingers threading through his hair and his eyes closed involuntarily as his breath hitched, "and then I'd lean in really close...." Ray's mouth was centimeters from his, they were breathing the same air....

"Ray, " Fraser whispered and moved forward taking the toothpick out of Ray's mouth with his lips and letting it drop to the seat between them.

"Yeah, Fraser?" Ray whispered back, their lips just brushing.

"Ray... please... you're not just yanking my chain, are you?" Fraser was not altogether sure he could bear it if Ray backed off, laughed and said he was.

A deathly silence fell.

"Fraser...."

"Ray," Fraser closed his eyes not wanting to see his greatest fear confirmed by Ray's face.

"Fraser..." Ray said again. "It's not your chain I want to yank." And then those lips were on his.

Fraser moaned and brought his own hands up to cup Ray's face and deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue through Ray's lips.

Ray moaned and climbed over the parking brake to plaster himself to Fraser.

"Ray." Another kiss. "Ray." Another kiss. "Ray!" Fraser turned his head and looked at the clock. "Our shift is over."

"Thank God," said Ray and went back to what he was doing.

"Ray. Detectives Huey and Dewey...Oh, my that feels...will be here soon...God, do that again...and if we don't want to be another story for someone else to tell...mmmm...I suggest you stop what you are doing and we move to a more private space."

"Fraser. Anybody ever tell you you talk too much?" Ray climbed back up Fraser's chest to his mouth and latched on. After another series of wet, open-mouthed kisses that left Fraser panting, he continued, However, you're right." Ray launched himself back to the driver's seat just as the lights from Huey and Dewey's car approached. They waved and Ray started the car. "Hope we can get home before any bad weather hits."

"If it does, I'll build us a snow shelter."