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Secret
for primrose
Author's Notes: Lots of love and thanks to my darling J for being my whip-cracker.
Ray was a firm believer in 'what you don't know can't hurt you'. If he'd had less sense, he would've had it tattooed on his arm. Or maybe his forehead. Someplace where he'd see it every single day and be reminded that sometimes it's better not to know.
But now, crouched behind some distressingly flimsy crates and waiting for the gunfire to stop or back-up to arrive or angels to descend from the heavens to bless him with a full clip for his gun, he began to rethink that policy. Because two hours ago he'd thought Fraser was better off not knowing any of the secrets Ray had kept hidden from him, but now, now, those secrets were starting to itch at Ray's insides, clawing their way into his guilty conscience. He didn't want to die without letting Fraser know.
"Hey. Hey, Fraser?"
Fraser peered around the crates, only to duck behind them again to avoid the new volley of gunfire. "Yes, Ray?" he said, glancing over.
"You and me are partners, right?"
A confused look came over Fraser's face. "Well, yes, Ray. Unless perhaps you--"
Ray shook his head violently. "No, no! I'm okay with being partners." He grinned at Fraser, smiling wider when Fraser returned it. "More than okay. But, see, partners don't have secrets between each other, right? Or, well, they usually do but they shouldn't, because that's not buddies."
Fraser opened his mouth to reply but a shout from behind stopped him. They both peeked over the tops of the crates to see the gunmen gathered in a circle, yelling at each other in Swedish or Swiss or whatever language they were speaking. Ray wasn't sure.
Fraser tapped his shoulder and jerked his head to the left. Ray looked that way, saw the large, sturdy-looking drums, and turned back to Fraser, nodding before running over quickly. There was another shout and the Swiss-Swedes started shooting again, bullets ding-dong-clanking against the drums. For a panicked moment, Ray was convinced that Fraser was still pinned down behind the crates but, no. Fraser rolled next to Ray, rising up to a crouch immediately.
"While it's true that partners shouldn't keep secrets from one another," Fraser said, as if their conversation hadn't been interrupted, "especially any that would jeopardize the partnership or possibly be construed as information pertaining to a case, one cannot assume it necessary for partners to share every aspect of--"
With a frantic wave of his hands, Ray cut Fraser off. "No, I mean, yeah, we don't need to everything about each other, like, you don't need to know I wet my bed when I was eight. Not that I did," he added at Fraser's raised eyebrow. "But there're things, certain things, that I need to tell you because maybe we don't make it out of here and you...you need to know."
He took a deep breath and looked Fraser in the eye, hoping to convey how serious this was. The message must have gotten through because Fraser stared right back, looking as intent as Ray had ever seen him. Intent and...expectant? Shit, Ray thought, Fraser already knew.
"Look, Frase--"
More gunfire interrupted him, and he heard someone yelling, "Chicago PD! Drop your weapons!" Peeking over the crates, he saw a stream of cops pouring into the building, guns drawn as the Swiss-Swedes surrendered. Ray let out a breath of relief; looking back at Fraser, he grinned. "Cavalry's here."
Barely giving them a glance, Fraser instead kept his focus on Ray. "You were saying," he said, a small nod indicating that Ray should continue.
Ray nodded back, then looked away, down at his hands. He opened his mouth, but now that they were surrounded by Chicago's finest, now that they were both safe and unharmed, he couldn't make the words come out. Those secrets that had been so damn eager to spill out of him had crawled back to the corner of his mind where he'd kept them hidden. His hands curled into fists and he shoved them into his pockets, flicking his eyes up to look at Fraser. The tiniest smile curved along Fraser's lips, and Ray knew it was meant to be encouraging, but something about it, along with the look in Fraser's eyes, scared him shitless. He shook his head, forced a grin on his face, and patted Fraser's shoulder. "S'not important, Fraser buddy. Forget about it."
He gave Fraser another pat, squeezing lightly before dropping his hand, and turned away before he had to acknowledge the sudden, disappointed twist to Fraser's mouth.
-----
"There's milk in the fridge," Ray yelled over his shoulder, tossing his coat on his couch as he made his way to his bedroom. Score one for the good guys, he thought, thinking back on how quickly the Swiss-Swedes - who'd actually turned out to be from Wisconsin - turned on one another, confessing everything. Rolling his shoulders, he stripped off his shirt, rummaging through his pile of laundry. Pulling out one that seemed reasonably clean, he turned and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Fraser standing in the doorway. "Jesus, Frase. I'm gonna have to start pulling a bell on you or something."
The grin Ray cracked as he said that faded at the expression on Fraser's face. He had the same look that Dief got when the wolf was after something. That steady, unwavering gaze of a hunter going after its prey. Ray shivered and crossed his arms over his chest. "What is it?"
Fraser licked his lip, then gave Ray a calculating look. "Earlier today, you spoke of some information you possessed that, at the time, you felt it necessary for me to know."
Shit. Ray backed up and shrugged, going for as nonchalant as possible. "You know how it is. Heat of the moment."
A head tilt this time, and Fraser took a step forward. Ray took another one back, but Fraser just followed. "Are you saying that there is nothing, nothing at all, that you wish to tell me?"
This was not going the way Ray had planned. Not that Ray had planned for anything like this, but if he had...He shook his head, then nodded, then paused. "Wait, was I nodding because there's nothing to say, or because there is something to say?"
Ignoring the question, Fraser stepped closer, close enough that Ray could feel the heat from Fraser's body on his bare skin. "Because if that's the case, Ray, then please allow me to confess one of my own secrets to you." The words Fraser spoke came out low and soft, almost like a caress, and Ray shivered again.
He didn't remember answering, but when Fraser moved again, it was to pull Ray even closer. He left his hands on Ray's arms, and leaned in to brush his mouth against Ray's cheek, the lips following the curve of the bone until they could whisper into his ear.
"When I returned from Canada to find Ray Vecchio missing, I thought that my world had been turned completely upside-down." Fraser's hands slid down Ray's arms, then moved to his hips, curling into his waistband. "Little did I know that that was only the beginning, that having you in my life would alter everything I had thought I'd known about myself."
Ray pulled back at those words, not sure if he was hearing them right. "Fraser, what are you saying?"
With a smile, Fraser said, "Only that I know your secret already, Ray, because it's not so dissimilar from mine." Before Ray could respond, Fraser gave a sharp tug and Ray stumbled-tumbled-fell into Fraser, right into Fraser's arms, right into his kiss. His own hands came up to cling to Fraser's shirt, and he had a moment of picturing the two of them on the cover of Sword of Desire before Fraser opened his mouth against Ray's, and he forgot how to think altogether.
When they finally broke the kiss, gasping for breath and clutching at one another, Ray pulled away from Fraser to sit on his bed. Fraser followed, stopping only to stand between Ray's legs. Dragging his eyes up from where their legs touched, Ray grinned and shook his head. "Fraser, I gotta tell you something."
Fraser leaned down, resting his forehead against Ray's. "It's okay, Ray. I know everything."
Oh, good. "You know about the painting of the Queen?"
Fraser started to nod, then stopped, standing up quickly. "Wait...what?"
Ray realized that Fraser did not, in fact, know about the painting. Reaching a hand back to scratch at his head, Ray grimaced. "That's one of the things I'd wanted to tell you earlier. That time you thought that Turnbull had done something with the painting, I...uh. I'd kind of banged into it, knocked it off the wall. I let him take the fall for it. And maybe a few other things." Glancing up, sheepish smile on his face, Ray waited for a reaction from Fraser.
The confused expression that had come over Fraser's face as Ray spoke flickered into something like horror before a blank mask settled. He made to move back, muttering, "Dear God, Ray, I'm so sorry," but Ray grabbed a hold of him before he could move too far away. He needed to explain before Fraser went into total lockdown.
"Fraser. Fraser, it's okay."
"Ray, I'd assumed that-- and I completely misunderstood, and--uf!"
Ray let go of Fraser's shirt as he hit the mattress, then rolled over so he was sprawled over Fraser. He grabbed a hold of Fraser's face, made sure that eye contact was made, then started talking. "Fraser, the only thing you're misunderstanding is this - the painting is only one of the things I'd wanted to tell you. The first thing maybe. But there's a whole slew of things I'd wanted to tell you, and this..."
Tilting his head forward, Ray gave Fraser a gentle kiss, mouth curving into a smile at the feel of Fraser's lips against his. "This was the most important." He kissed Fraser again, and when he pulled away, Fraser had a smile of his own on his face. "So we good?"
Fraser nodded, reaching up to pull Ray in for another kiss. Then he stopped, frowning slightly. "Wait, Ray? For what other things did you let Turnbull take the blame?"
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