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The Best Worst Assignment Ever
for ignaz wisdom
Author's Notes: Thanks to tallykat668 for the fast beta turnaround and the local holiday music station for background music suitable for writing.
"I'm telling you Frase, it was the son-in-law." Ray stabbed a finger at the guy's photo. "He had motive, all the access in the world to over 3 million in jewels. And he didn't seem to like the old man that much."
"That Mr. Jenkins did not like Mr. Scharcheilli is of no matter to this case, Ray. What matters is who stole those diamonds and emeralds and in my opinion, Mr. Jenkins did not have the intelligence to pull off this intricate heist." Shifting through the piles of the case paperwork spread out on Ray's desk, Fraser picked up the photo of the night manager. "I think we need to look at Ms. Harris again. She seemed nervous when we questioned her and she could not explain why the sleeve on her coat was torn in that fashion."
Ray rolled his eyes. Leave it to Fraser to pick out a suspect based on the angle of a torn wool jacket. Then again, Ms. Harris had been paying more attention to Ray than to Fraser when they interviewed her, so maybe it was the green-eyed monster rearing its head. Lowering his voice, Ray leaned closer, "Aww, Ben. You're jealous. I'm touched. But she's not my type... anymore." Throwing in a wink for good measure, Ray sat back and watched the blush creep up Fraser's face.
It was fun to see Fraser blush as red as his uniform in public, to see how far he could take things before getting Fraser's patented "Ray!". It was even more fun and much more rewarding to see that blush spread out over Fraser's entire body as he lay naked, hard and panting on Ray's bed. Like he was last night as Ray fucked him slowly and thoroughly, taking his time as they came together again and again, until finally-
"Vecchio!" Welsh's booming voice cut through Ray's memory, shattering it like glass. "Get your ass in my office now! And bring Fraser."
The sound of Welsh's door slamming shut was almost as loud as his voice had been. Glancing at Fraser, wondering what was going on, Ray pushed back from his desk and stood, arching his back to work out the kinks. He straightened up and headed towards Welsh's office, muttering as he went, "This can't be good."
Once they were inside and Ray had flung himself onto the leather couch, Welsh made a shut-the-door motion with one meaty hand and got right down to business. "Gentlemen, I have a special assignment for you. I just got off the phone with the chief of police and it seems that one of our city's hot shot high school quarterbacks has been receiving some disturbing letters of late. Seeing as the player in question is the Chief's nephew, he's rather concerned about this and in explicit terms told me that it's my job to protect this kid and make sure nothing happens to him before tomorrow night's championship game. By me, that means you two. Now go home, pack an overnight bag and head over to Lincoln Park."
This was worse than Ray could have imagined. "We have to body guard some kid jock because he got a threatening letter? That's BS, Lieu. Let the school do it. We're slammed enough without having to do their job, too."
"In any other case I would say the same thing, detective, but the Chief personally called me on this and what he says goes, so please go. Introduce yourself to the kid, watch that he doesn't get killed or maimed before, during or after the game, then get back here the day after tomorrow." Welsh sighed. "I don't like this as much you do, Vecchio, but it's just for a day and a half at most. I think you and Fraser can handle that."
Bouncing up from his slouch on the sofa, Ray started to pace. "What about our cases? We're this close to nailing the Prendergast B and E," he held up two fingers to demonstrate," and getting close on the Scharcheilli jewelry bust. We're farther away on the O'Reilly DOA, but that case was stone cold to begin with. And-"
"Will we need to find out who is sending the threatening missives to the young man or are we just serving as body guards, Lieutenant?"
Ray shot Fraser a withering look at the interruption.
"Just protect the kid, Constable. We'll work one who those letters came from on our end. If we get anything, we'll call and let you know." Holding out a manila envelope, Welsh added, "I knew you'd be curious so here are copies of everything, including some information on the kid. His name is Brady Detmer and apparently he's good enough to earn himself a full ride to Florida. Another reason to watch his back. We don't want the lead story on Sportscenter to be that the CPD let a highly rated recruit get killed. Bad publicity is not what we need."
Snatching the folder from Welsh, Ray resigned himself to the assignment. It would suck big-time but Fraser was already on board and it was up to Ray to keep Fraser from getting himself hurt protecting this dumb ass jock. " Okay, okay. I'll hand over our cases to the duck boys in case anything breaks while we're gone." God this was the worst assignment ever. Worse even than some of his undercover jobs.
He was at the door in three strides, hand on the knob to turn it when Welsh chimed in again, "Oh and Chief Abramson authorized any expenses, so you're staying with the team in their hotel tonight if it comes to that. It's already set up. All the paperwork's in that folder. Check in at regular intervals, you know the drill. And if anything breaks, you'll be the first to know."
Turning the knob, Ray threw a "Thanks, Lieu" over his shoulder as he stepped back into the chaos of the bullpen, Fraser falling into step beside him. "So, buddy, ready to see one of Chicago's finest public schools in person? I hear Lincoln Park's gotten better since I was in high school." He had to edge around an arguing couple dressed in Victorian garb as he neared his desk.
"I think it will be educational, Ray. You know I have very limited experience with formal schools and their habitats." Fraser had reached his desk before him and handed Ray his leather jacket and grabbed up his own Stetson, settling it neatly on his head as he maneuvered both of them to the swinging doors of the exit. "Getting the chance to see how a public school prepares young people for adulthood will very exhilarating."
"Educational and exhilarating are not the words I would use to describe this. Hell on earth is more like it. Boring classes, awful teachers and bullies. That's what high school is." Ray deliberately did not think about his years at Lake View. It was the worst 4 years of his life and he didn't want to go back there. Even being with Stella for most of those years was painful as she went to Trinity and it was hard to see each other sometimes.
"I'm going back to high school. I cannot believe it." He sighed, then looked over at Fraser over the roof of the GTO. "At least I'll have you around this time. It's bound to be better. And we get a CPD-expensed hotel room. Reason alone to party there."
Fraser's smile warmed Ray inside and out as he held the door open for Dief to jump in the backseat. "It certainly is."
Shooting a grin back, Ray slid into his beloved car, loving the purr of the engine as she roared to life. A lot had changed in 20 years, but his car was still the same. Add in a hot Mountie boyfriend and a deaf half-wolf and maybe, just maybe, high school would be better the second time around.
******************************************
A few hours later, plus one overnight bag packed between them and minus one half wolf -Ray argued that Dief was a police dog and since police dogs were allowed in schools, he could come with them. He lost when Fraser pointed out that Dief actually wasn't a licensed police canine, despite all evidence to the contrary and as such, he would not be welcome at the school.- they were on their way to the high school. Currently, Fraser was attempting to get Ray to talk to about his own experiences in high school.
"What about extracurricular activities? Sports, clubs-perhaps a car mechanics club?"
"Nope"
"Drama club?"
Ray snorted. "Yeah, me in a play. That's a good one, Frase."
"I think you'd do quite well as an actor, Ray. When you stop and think about it, you act everyday. Granted, it's not what one would traditionally refer to as acting, but your role as Ray Vecchio is quite similar. You are being someone else, which, I believe, is the basic description of acting in any medium, be it on film, on stage or on the television. Your chosen medium just happens to be unusual."
"Unusual." Ray drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel, wishing the light would change. "You could say that." Green, c'mon green. Yes! Ray hit the gas, tires screeching a tiny bit. " Undercover's more than acting, though. Yeah, you are playing a certain part, but it requires more just playing that part, you have to believe that you are that person. You have to BE that person, not just pretend to be them." He slanted a look at Fraser, who was staring out the window at the brick and concrete buildings as they passed by. "Each job is different though. Sometimes you're totally different from who you really are, other times, you're just being yourself. Like now."
Fraser turned back to Ray, the lines around his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Exactly like now."
He was so caught up in the way Fraser's face lighted up as he spoke, in the love that shone through, that Ray almost missed the turn into the school's parking lot, catching it at the last moment. Pulling in, he found a spot towards the back of the lot and smoothly maneuvered the GTO into it, killing the engine once they were parked. Before taking the keys from the ignition, he paused, thinking it over and coming to a quick decision, then reached over and squeezed Fraser's knee.
"I'll make you a deal. Once this business is over, I'll tell you about my high school days. I know I keep avoiding talking about them. Mainly because they sucked and I don't want to go back there. But I'll do it. For you." Ray punctuated his last line with another squeeze of a jeans-clad knee. "Okay?"
"Okay." Fraser briefly rested his own hand on top of Ray's.
"Cool." Ray slipped his hand out from underneath Fraser's and yanked the keys from the ignition. " Let's do this then. Meet with the kid and the principal and the coach. Keep the kid in one piece tonight and through the game. Then get back to doing real police work."
With that, they both got out of the car, Ray making sure he locked the doors, before they strode across the parking lot and into the school, headed straight towards the principal's office and a meet and greet with everyone involved.
****
Just as he'd thought, Brady Detmer was a grade A asshhole. From the second Ray and Fraser had entered the office, the kid alternated between ignoring them and loudly proclaiming that "he didn't need some lousy rent-a-cops to protect him." It took every ounce of his will power and Fraser deliberately and subtly kicking his ankle to not reach over the table and throttle the brat. Mercifully, the meeting ended with the head coach giving them the team's itinerary for the next 24 hours, then leaving for practice with Detmer trailing behind him.
Once they had left, it was just the two of them and the principal left in the office, leaving Ray feeling a little desperate for air and space as Fraser chatted with Dr. Jackson about the intricacies of the Illinois education requirements. The phone rang and Ray breathed a sigh of relief as Jackson picked it up with an apology. Telling the person on the other end to hold a moment, Jackson shook both their hands warmly and thanked them, before turning back to the phone.
Escaping to the hallway with a final nod, Ray leaned against the pale blue paint as Fraser checked his watch.
"3:45. We have some time before the team practices. I'd like to look around the school, if it's all right with you. Familiarize myself with the building and its surroundings."
Actual police-type work instead of hanging around twiddling his thumbs. Ray can get behind that, so he pushes himself off the wall to stand next to Fraser. " Great idea, Frase. Lead the way."
***
Apparently, in Fraser's world, leading the way meant starting at the basement and going into every classroom and closet that was unlocked. By the time they reached the first floor, Ray was already sick of seeing desks and chalkboards and the most ugly carpeting ever and was ready to voice his opinion of said boredom, when Fraser suddenly bumped his shoulder hard, making Ray stumble into the gray-green lockers along the wall.
"What the..."
Ray's question was cut off by Fraser's thumb sliding across his lips a split second before his mouth came down on Ray's, his tongue demanding entrance. He never could resist Fraser's kiss and readily opened to the demand, hands clutching at a broad flannel-covered back as he kissed back, sliding his tongue against the one doing wicked things to the roof of his mouth Fraser crowded in closer, pinning Ray against the cool steel of the locker, shoving one leg between Ray's to bring their bodies even closer. Giving as good as he got, Ray hooked two fingers through a belt loop and yanked, grinding his growing hard-on against Fraser's hip, feeling Fraser's own erection swell in response.
They kissed until Ray couldn't breathe anymore. Kissed until Ray couldn't tell where his mouth ended and Fraser's began. Kissed until Ray was sure he had the zipper of his jeans imprinted on his dick. Ray reluctantly wrenched his mouth away from Fraser's at that point, only to have Fraser move his mouth along Ray's stubbled jaw line, driving Ray just as insane as the kisses.
"Fraser. Ben. We've got to- We need to- Oh Christ, keep doing that. No, wait, we have to- Fuck." His voice sounded like he'd just chain-smoked a carton and drank a quart of whiskey, all at the same time. Panting, he managed to get his shaking hands on Fraser's shoulders and push him a fraction of an inch away so he could see Fraser's face.
"Dammit Ben. I- fuck- I can't believe I'm saying this, but we have to stop. We're on the job here and can't be caught fucking around in the middle of the school hallway."
Pursing his lips, Fraser looked away from Ray, down the hallway. Then, as if coming to a decision, he nodded his head and unplastered himself from Ray's front. "Right you are. We can't do this here. Come on."
He grabbed Ray's wrist and pulled him away from wall of lockers and down the hall. Ray let himself be led, half-running to keep up with Fraser's long strides and half-stumbling as trying to run with a hard-on was next to impossible.
Fraser stopped at the far end of the hallway, in front of a door marked Chemistry in big, bold, black letters, muttered "Perfect" under his breath and after testing the knob to make sure the door was unlocked, shoved Ray into the classroom ahead of him. Ray stood there, staring dumbfounded at the long tables and the funky looking burners and the glass shelves filled with beakers and tubes of shimmery liquids.
He was so out of it that he jumped when Fraser's arms came around his waist, one strong hand cupping him through his jeans while the other worked at undoing the button and zipper. " Chem lab, Ray." His voice held a hint of humor to go along with the deeper sexiness it got when he was turned on. "The ideal place to do this, don't you think?" His grip was sure and slightly sweaty as he stroked Ray's cock.
Ray could only nod. This was insane, was the only thought he could muster. Standing here in the middle of a high school lab, his cock hanging out his jeans as Fraser jerked him off. It was the stuff of fantasies that'd he had a long time ago, but being here now, it was just plain crazy.
"There are those who would say that love is nothing more than basic chemistry. That love is just our body's way of recognizing a mate that it would fit best with." Fraser's strokes were speeding up, helped out by the lube that he somehow managed to produce out of nowhere. "But you know what I think, Ray? I think that love is a lot more than two chemicals deciding they get along with one other." His other hand, the one not sliding up and down Ray's cock and adding a twist to the right and a swipe over the slit on the way back down. That hand was tugging gently at Ray's balls, calloused fingertips catching at the hairs with each downward movement.
"I think that love," Fraser paused to bite Ray's earlobe hard, spiraling Ray closer to completion, " that love is two people choosing, of their own free will, to be with each other, no matter their differences. The chemistry, the sexual chemistry, is just the added icing on the proverbial cake." His grip tightened, on the good side of hurt and that was it for Ray, he tensed and came hard, Fraser stroking him through him as he made a mess of his own shirt and Fraser's hand.
Breathing hard, Ray leaned back, letting Fraser take his weight as his legs felt like jell-o. Fraser's hand was still on Ray's cock, not stroking, but just holding, his touch light and still nearly too much for how sensitive Ray was. He kissed the back of Ray's neck, whispering something that Ray couldn't quite make out, then shifted around and produced a handkerchief that he used to clean his hand and Ray up with before tucking Ray back into his jeans and making him presentable.
Able to finally move without falling down, Ray turned and kissed Fraser, letting his lips and tongue say how much he appreciated and loved Fraser. In turn, Fraser's mouth said the same things, only with a distinctly Canadian flair that involved minutely inspecting Ray's fillings. He had a hand on Fraser's belt and was about to undo it when his cell phone rang, echoing loudly in the empty lab.
Ray managed to pull away from Fraser's lips, dig out his cell and bark "Vecchio" into the mouthpiece all in one movement.
"I'm glad you know who you are, detective. That warms me more than I can explain." Welsh's gravelly voice brought Ray into line faster than he cared to admit and he mouthed "Welsh" at Fraser, watching as the lust and arousal cleared from Fraser's handsome features and regretting it. Damn but he owed Fraser big-time.
"So what's up, Lieutenant?" He rested his head on Fraser's chest, turning so his cheek was against the soft plaid.
"You'll be thrilled to learn that we have a pretty solid lead on who wrote those letters to Detmer."
Ray's head shot up so fast he nearly hit Fraser in the chin, only Fraser's quick reaction saving himself from a broken jaw. " We do? That's great!" He grinned at Fraser, sharing the joy, "The Lieutenant says they have a solid lead on the letter writer."
Fraser's grin matched his own. "Excellent work by everyone, Lieutenant."
"Tell the Constable thanks for his kind words and no, there is nothing you two can do to help solve this on your end. Just keep doing your job and I'll keep you posted." And with that, the line went dead as Welsh hung up.
Ray hit the END button on his cell and snapped it shut before putting it back in his pocket. Good news was always greatness, even if it did interrupt him in paying Fraser back. " I appreciate Welsh letting us know, but his timing sucks. Now how about I finish what I'd barely started?" He reached for Fraser's belt again, but was stopped by Fraser's hand on his wrist. "No, Ray."
"What? You don't want a blowjob?" Ray was amazed and yet, not stunned that Fraser would turn down a blowjob. He also cursed his boss for having the worst timing in the world.
Fraser blushed and shook his head. "That's not it, Ray. I would... appreciate your reciprocity. But we really need to do as Lieutenant Welsh suggested and get back to the task we were assigned. Practice is well underway by now. We should go and make certain that everything is fine."
Sighing loudly, Ray twisted his hand out of Fraser's grip, bringing it up to point two fingers right at his chest. "Okay. You win. But I reserve the right the blow you the next free chance we get."
"I look forward to that Ray. Very much so."
***
Football practice turned out to be the most boring thing Ray had ever been too, including that ballet Fraser had dragged him to several months back. At least there had been dancing at the ballet, something that Ray could understand even if it wasn't the type of dancing he was used to. This though, was nothing more than a bunch of guys pushing at each other while Detmer stepped back and threw spiral after spiral downfield.
Heck, Ray liked football, even though the Bears sucked. He liked watching it from the comfort of his couch with a beer in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. He liked watching it at a local dive, with the regulars shouting at Wannstedt to change quarterbacks. But watching it live, 20 feet in front of him on a cold, damp late November day, was just plain dull.
Maybe it was that he couldn't see the plays developing like he could on TV or maybe it was that the Raiders didn't run more than a handful of running plays the entire time they were there. Whatever the reason, Ray was overjoyed when Coach Iati blew his whistle for the final time, shouting out to his players to hit the showers quickly as the bus for the hotel left in 30 minutes. He and Fraser caught up with the coach before he left the field and told him the news that they had a lead on the letter sender, but that they were still on the job and would remain so until the perp was caught.
They had some time to kill before the team left for the hotel and Ray was going to make good on his earlier promise of a blowjob for Fraser, even going so far as to find another empty classroom and drag Fraser into it. Again, his cell phone rang at the worst possible time. It was Frannie wanting to know where he'd put the Lanier file and oh, by the way, she also needed his notes on the Chang case so she could type them up for the official file and she wanted the name of the guy who detailed his car because her brother-in-law had asked her to ask Ray for him. By the end of that conversation, the team was leaving in three minutes and he and Fraser had to book it to the Goat so they could follow them to the hotel and Ray lost his chance, again.
He was getting a little frustrated, sure. Which is probably why, after checking in to the hotel, he snapped at one of the players when the kid dared to ask him why he and Fraser were staying on a different floor from them if they were supposed to protect Detmer. Ray told the kid he wasn't a hotel clerk and had no idea why and was about to tell him where to shove his concern for his asshole of a QB, when the worried look on the kid's youthful face made him swallow what he was going to say. Instead, he told the kid that even though he and Fraser were on a different floor, they would do their very best to make sure that nothing happened to Detmer while they were at there. He also told the kid that the coaching staff had his cell number in case anything was hinky and that he and Fraser would be there in a jiffy if someone did call them. The kid seemed reassured by Ray's words and thanked him and Fraser before running off to do whatever it was he was supposed to do.
Ray watched him head for the elevators, chatting excitedly with his teammates and felt a little bit better about the assignment. He was actually doing something good here, much as he didn't want to be doing it at all.
"That was a very nice thing to do Ray." Fraser came up behind him, carrying his bag in one hand and their room keys in the other.
Ray shrugged. "Yeah, well, if it makes him sleep better knowing we're watching Detmer's back, then I guess we did something good with this job. You have the keys?"
Fraser nodded, lifting the envelope they were in.
"Cool. We'll drop our stuff off. Head back down for dinner. See where the rest of the night takes us." He winked, shooting a brief, but meaningful glance down at Fraser's crotch.
Seeing the faint blush come over Fraser's face, Ray smiled to himself, then grabbed his bag and headed to the elevator bank. Lucky them, there was one just arriving as they got there and they got on, Ray punching the button for the 9th floor as the doors closed, leaving the two of them alone as the elevator ascended.
Knowing that if he so much as touched Fraser with one finger, he wouldn't be able to stop, Ray kept to one side of the elevator, leaning against the wall with one shoulder. Fraser must have sensed what Ray was doing, their duet working in perfect sync, as he stayed on the other side, practically in his guard duty stance. The tired ding of a bell signaled the arrival of their floor and Ray was squeezing through the doors before they were fully open, checking for the direction of their room and taking off towards it. By the time Fraser got off and made it to their room, Ray was already at the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet, impatient to get inside.
"C'mon Frase. Move it, move it, move it. You're slower than Turtle sometimes, I swear."
Fraser arched an eyebrow as he inserted the key into the electronic lock. "I highly doubt that. By all means, though, go ahead." Taking the key out once the light turned green, he gestured grandly at the door knob, all but telling Ray to go in ahead of him.
Ray took the hint, flinging open the door and inching past Fraser to step inside the dark room. Without looking for a light, he tossed his bag on the small bureau and immediately turned back around to leave, almost bumping into Fraser. "Sorry. Just want to go eat before my stomach eats itself."
Setting his own bag down on the floor, Fraser shrugged it off verbally, " Of course. I'm rather famished myself. Let me turn on a light on and we can go." He snapped the nearest lamp onto its lowest setting, then followed Ray out into the hall, making sure he had the room key before shutting the door and starting them off to join the team in the downstairs restaurant.
***
Dinner went better than Ray expected. It started with a phone call from Welsh letting him and Fraser know that Huey and Dewey were currently holed up on Interview Two with their top suspect and from the looks of it, the guy was going to crack faster than an egg. It ended nearly three hours later with Ray finishing off his fourth cup of coffee while Fraser entertained the team with an Inuit story about a caribou, a bear and a guy named, no kidding, Snowy Harry. By the time Fraser delivered the punch line ("Of course, the bear wound up wearing the antler's, the caribou got stuck in the laundry line and Snowy Harry, well, he had enough food to feed the local village for several months"), the entire team, coaching staff included, was laughing too hard to actually say a word.
Ray sat back, listening and watching as Fraser enjoyed himself, smiling and laughing along with the team. It was good, it was greatness to see Fraser having such a wonderful time, and, if Ray was being totally honest, the team was actually pretty fun to be around, talking and joking with each other, with their coaches and with him and Fraser throughout the entire dinner. Still, Ray wasn't upset when Coach Iati stood up and told his players that despite the good time everyone was having, it was time to go. Dismissing them, he reminded them that their separate units had meetings in 20 minutes and that lights out was at 10pm. Flicking a glance at Ray and Fraser, he also reminded the team that if they saw anything strange or out of the ordinary, they were to contact one of the coaches, who would relay the news to the two police officers who were with the team.
Then Iati let his team go, following them slowly towards the door, catching up with Ray and Fraser who were lagging behind as well. " I really do appreciate you fellas doing this. Detective Vecchio, all of the coaches have your cell number and your room number and as I told the team, if anybody sees anything, you'll be the first to know."
Ray nodded. "Good. That's real good."
Adding his two cents worth, Fraser chimed in, " We'll be in our room for the rest of the night, ready to help out in any way we can."
Reaching the bank of elevators, Iati shook their hands. "This is where we part, gentleman. Again, thank you." Turning on his heel, he strode off on the direction of the conference rooms, opening up the binder that he was carrying.
"He's a very good man. You can tell he loves his team." The elevator doors opened as Fraser spoke. "I took the liberty of checking into his records. The Raiders were not a good team when he took over seven years ago. In fact, they'd finished last in their league and had only six wins in the previous decade before he was named the coach. That first season under him, the team won five games, missing the playoffs by one game."
"You don't say." Ray watched the numbers light up as they climbed. Six. Seven. Eight. "Must be some sort of miracle worker then, to turn them around so quick." Nine.
They stepped from the elevator, turning towards their room. "Maybe not exactly a miracle worker Ray, but certainly an inspiring and hard-working coach."
Ray jammed the key in the reader once they reached their room, swinging the door wide open. "Sometimes, that's all you need, Frase... A little inspiration and hard work." On the last two words, he grabbed Fraser by the shirtfront and slammed him up against the wall just inside their room, searching for his mouth and his belt at the same time.
Finding them both, he undid the belt, sliding the leather free before tackling the button and zipper on the world's tightest jeans while his tongue licked every trace of dinner from that mouth that drove Ray to distraction every damn day. Palming Fraser's half-hard dick through his boxers, Ray concentrated on kissing the man, sucking at the tongue that poked out whenever Fraser was really thinking about something, giving in to the urge to bite his lower lip. After an initial pause, Fraser was kissing Ray back just as hot and wet, slipping his own tongue over and around Ray's in the pattern that he knew made Ray cross-eyed.
He wasn't going to get distracted from his goal though, no matter what Fraser did and so Ray broke off the kiss with one last swipe of Fraser's lips and dropped to his knees. He yanked Fraser's jeans and boxers down to mid-thigh and dove right in, swallowing his dick down in one movement. He let Fraser's thickness rest on his tongue for a few seconds, feeling his heartbeat thumping in the vein that ran underneath, then pulled back, slipping his tongue under the foreskin as he sucked at the head. A moan from above his head was the only sound Fraser made as Ray went to work, alternating licking and sucking, his hand jacking the part he couldn't reach, the way made easier by Fraser leaking like crazy.
His own dick was screaming for attention in his jeans, but Ray ignored it, concentrating on giving Fraser the best blowjob he knew how to give. And Fraser, if the half-formed words and gasps were any indication, was about to come when he grabbed Ray's hair and pulled hard. Hard enough to make Ray's eyes water and for him to slide his mouth off Fraser's dick with a loud pop.
"What?" Ray didn't care if he sounded pissed off and annoyed. He was, dammit, and deserved to know why in hell Fraser stopped him when he was about to come like a freight train.
"Not... not this way," Fraser panted out, his eyes blazing with lust. "I want to..." He sucked in a deep breath, seeming to reach for some sort of control. "I want to... to fuck you. Now."
Ray had to reach down, grab hold of his own dick, trapped in his jeans, and squeeze hard. "Jesus fuck, Ben. Warn a guy next time." He scrambled to his feet, toeing his boots off and shedding clothes as he dove for the bed, naked before his ass hit the coverlet. Fraser wasn't far behind him, kneeing his own way onto the bed before Ray stopped moving.
Covering Ray with the length of his body, getting their slightly sweaty skin up close and very personal, he sought out Ray's mouth desperately, mashing Ray's nose before changing the angle and kissing him deeply, trying to reach Ray's tonsils with his tongue. Just as desperate and hungry for it, Ray surged upward, meeting Fraser's mouth halfway, bringing his knees up to give Fraser's slippery fingers easy access to his hole. Too busy mapping his back and chest and arms with his fingertips and lips, Ray didn't notice Fraser preparing him, stretching him out and lubing him up, until he felt the heat of Fraser's cock against him, pushing inside.
"Oh Jesus, oh fuck. Fuck, Ben, that is so fucking..." Ray trailed off as Fraser slid all the way inside. He could feel Ben's balls snug up against his ass, could feel his own muscles clenching down on Ben's cock that was filling him up. There was no better feeling than this, he mused.
"No, Ray, there isn't"
Christ, had he said that out loud? "Well, there is one thing better."
Fraser looked down at him, cocked an eyebrow instead of asking the question.
Giving the wickedest smile he knew and drawing his legs up around Fraser's waist, Ray answered simply, "Move."
And move Fraser did, pulling out and slamming back in so fast that Ray went cross-eyed and missed a breath. "Fuckin' hell Ben," he rasped when he could see straight again.
"You did say to move." Fraser did it again, but Ray was ready for it this time, breathing out as Fraser drove home again.
"So I did." Having nothing else to say and with Fraser picking up his pace, hitting Ray's happy place with each thrust, Ray shut up, wrapped his hands around Fraser's braced forearms for support and enjoyed the ride. Sweat pooled on his chest and in the small of his back against the coverlet as Fraser fucked him hard, grunting out Ray's name each time he bottomed out. His own dick was hard enough to pound nails, rubbing against Fraser's stomach, leaving trails of precum scattered across him with each withdrawl and thrust. Ray didn't dare touch it though, he was having enough trouble just hanging on.
Opening eyes he didn't realize he'd closed, Ray looked up, at the joy and love that shone in Fraser's face and he himself was overjoyed, thrilled that it was him, the skinny Polack with the experimental hair and the bad eyesight and the trigger temper, it was that guy that could put that look onto Fraser's face. And that was it for Ray, that and one very hard thrust and Ray was gone, shuddering and shaking and cursing as he came without a hand on him, came all over himself and Fraser for the second time that day.
Continuing to fuck Ray as his cock spit out more drips and drabs, aftershocks rolling through Ray with each jolt, Fraser wasn't too far behind him, slamming home four, five, six more times before finally freezing above Ray, his face contorted as he reached his own completion. Too far gone to care except for his screaming thighs, Ray didn't mind it when Fraser collapsed on his chest, gluing the two of them together with sweat and come. Easing his legs down, all Ray cared about was trying to catch his breath and possibly passing out, He did manage to sling one limp arm over Fraser's back before drifting off to the sounds of Fraser's heart beating wildly and his breath coming in great gasps.
***
All Ray remembered about the rest of that night was a hazy, vague memory of Fraser cleaning him up with a damp cloth then sliding into bed behind Ray, dragging a cover over them. Ray knows he said something, but he had no idea what and frankly, it didn't matter much. The next thing he clearly remembered was his cell phone ringing right next to his ear, having somehow miraculously made it to the bedside table.
He fumbled around the table, hand flailing as he tried to located the phone without opening his eyes. Finally, he found it and dragging it up to his ear, mumbled "What?" to whoever dared to disturb his sleep.
"Don't let me ruin your beauty rest, Vecchio, but I thought you'd like to know that we have a confession." Welsh sounded as exhausted as Ray felt. "The guy's in the cells and Detmer's free of any threats. You and Fraser are off the job."
"Great." God, did his voice have to sound like a bucket of rusted nails. "I'll, uh, let Frase know. Thanks, Lieutenant."
Distantly, he heard Welsh's "You're welcome, Detective" as he put the phone back on the table, already slipping back into sleep. He would tell Fraser the good news when they were both more awake, but for now, Ray snuggled deeper under the blankets, Fraser's arm tightening around his waist as he settled back in. Yeah, definitely much later and much, much more awake were Ray's final thoughts as he drifted back to dreamland once again.
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