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All the Snow in the Yukon
for Lamardeuse
Author's Notes: Thank you to my amazing fantastical betas, MissApocalyptic and nos4a2no9, for the fastest fastdirty betas in the west.
Snow suits him. It makes sense- he grew up in the stuff- but seeing him standing in the middle of the park with the snowflakes flurrying around him, sticking to his eyelashes and the tip of his nose (and hey, I always thought that song was kinda dumb, I mean whiskers? Kittens? Kettles? but it makes more sense to me looking at him now) makes it hit home. He looks happy, this great big sappy grin on his face, and beautiful, which is no change really. He's beautiful. Believe me, I've tried to find another way to describe him, but `rugged' and `manly' don't fit him. I can call him `pretty' when I'm annoyed, but really, he's perfect-looking most of the time. The Mounties could frame him and put him up in a gallery, make him their poster boy behind glass, keep him forever. An example, something to be admired, gasped at by rich couples in furs and snotnosed little kids on school trips. They wouldn't see him with eyes sparkling, with flushed cheeks, with the tip of his nose slightly red, though. They wouldn't hear him being completely serious about the origins of the names of Santa's reindeers, or singing `Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire' in Latin, just because I had told him festive and clever didn't go together-
-or have a snowball thrown at them because they called him a goof and laughed at how red his nose was.
I sputter a bit in surprise, cause yeah, this is Fraser, and yeah, he could hit a polar bear in a snowstorm, but with snow? Him doing the whole heroic gun thing on the ship is one thing, but getting me on the shoulder with a snowball is a whole other kettle of ice. I put my shopping bags down and prepare for attack. We've been hitting the malls today for Christmas presents, and we decided to cut across the park just to give ourselves a breather from all the crowds and the noise and the frenzy everyone works themselves into this time of year.
He's honest to god giggling at the look on my face, hand over his mouth and his eyes crinkled. I fix him with my best Clint Eastwood stare and get ready for war.
I'm pretty good with snowballs, and this is an important battle, so I put on my glasses and grin at him, ducking down to get more snow, my hands burning on the cold stuff cause I don't like wearing gloves. He's started moving, doing a boxing style foot shuffle, getting ready to dodge. I feint to the left, then throw to the right, getting him in the middle of the chest. Then I'm making another ball, preparing for a volley, cause this is war, this is serious.
This is gonna be fun.
"You, my friend are going- mmmf!"
Fraser's toss gets me straight in the face. I eat a mouthful of snow and for a few seconds I can't see anything. The cold makes my face hurt but I throw three snowballs in quick succession, knowing by the satisfying gasp that at least one has hit him. The next few minutes are a complete blur of snow, as I get the full range of Fraser's snowballing expertise, cause man, he grew up in the stuff, and from what I've heard from him about his childhood he did have some friends to do kid stuff with, sometimes. Not often enough, but heck, he's good at everything except dancing and deflecting women, so he's gonna be good at this. I get in some good hits, though. It'd be enough to see him having this much fun, but I'm enjoying it too since it's a nice change from the way we usually do things. Y'know, the `lick this rubber duck to save the Russian Embassy stuff'. It's kinda a relief that this time no one will die if I screw up.
"Do you surrender?" he shouts across at me, voice breathless. Usually when he wants someone to surrender, Fraser'd tell them a story about a walrus and a pair of knitting needles, but he's really getting into the whole menacing villain type thing. Or perhaps I'm the villain. Nah, he can be the villain.
"Eat snow and die, Mountie fiend," I shout back, remembering every single hero in every single action movie I ever sneaked out of school to watch. I don't know if he gets the reference, but as soon as I've said it, I start running for cover. I do the spy thing, like when I was a kid and thought I was a cross between James Dean and James Bond, bobbing and weaving, telling myself I'll hear the snowballs and manage to dodge them, throwing snowballs behind me at where he last was, not bothering to turn back to look at him until I'm almost by the trees and under cover, only five yards to go, on fire, speed and strength, ultimate combat machine-
Kissing the ground, tackled to the floor by a snowrolling Canuck who pins me down like it's the easiest thing in the world.
"Do you admit defeat?"
"That's, uh, like surrendering, yeah?" I say, playing for time. He tsks, and man he's easy to wind up. I grin and try to flip us over but end up on my back, with him half on top of me, and he's so damn close, and so damn beautiful I almost forget that we're just playing here, that he'd never be like this with me if he wasn't playing, and damn if that doesn't hurt like a bitch.
"Yes, Ray."
His voice is breathy again, but he's not laughing. He's close, and doesn't move away when I shift my hips slightly. I have a hunch, an urge, a- a yen. I have a yen to take a leap. I make a little one first, off the sidewalk onto the street.
"And what do I have to do if I give in?"
I guess The Stella didn't grind all my hope under her pretty designer heels, cause I already feel like a goddamn hero for asking him even that. The way he closes his eyes for a fraction longer than a blink makes me feel like all I've ever done is scored home runs, just at a tiny sign, a reflex thingy.
"I am reasonably sure some terms of surrender can be mutually agreed upon by both parties, Ray."
Lawyer-speak. God, when Stella did that it made me feel small and dumb, but Fraser using it, taking all those highfaluting words and old phrases and making them into a game makes me feel like I'm in on the joke. And mutual? I am all over mutual. Mutual is good.
"Yeah, y'know, I completely agree with agreement. Agreement is a good thing. Leads to other good things."
The smile he gives me at that is downright filthy, and I feel myself getting hard despite the cold, despite being outside and covered in snow. "Yes, Ray, it has...potential," he replies, real smooth, and before I can say anything he ducks down and kisses me, right on the lips. It's simple, simpler than I thought it would be, like he's carrying on our game, but I need more than that, more than just a bit of fun, and so I pull him back down and kiss him deeply, sweet still, but slower, thoroughly, thoroughly enough to get myself hauled in for public indecency. Stella used to say `if it wouldn't shock your grandparents, it isn't a kiss', and we're still on the same page on that. I'm half-expecting to hear my Grandma Kowalski to say `Stanley!' in her scariest voice, but instead I hear Fraser moaning into my mouth, his hands flexing on my shoulders. I figure we're kissing properly now. He breaks the kiss and looks down at me.
"So you surrender then?"
I don't answer, just sit up a little and kiss him some more, using one hand to prop myself up. I wait until he's getting into it again, then I use my spare hand to scoop up some snow and shove it down his neck. He makes the greatest noise, a breathy little squeak that sounds like Marilyn Monroe down a couple of octaves, and all he can do for a few moments is stare at me, mouth slightly open. His hair is tousled, his lips are swollen and water is trickling down his forehead. I don't know how the hell I'm gonna get us back to my apartment without getting arrested.
"Nah, I won't surrender. We can continue to, uh, discuss terms if you like, though. Somewhere warm, though, cause I've gotta tell you Frase, if you want my ass, you might wanna make sure it doesn't get frozen off."
I hadn't thought his face could get any more surprised, but he goes all cardboard cutout rabbittish, so I stand up, pick up the forgotten shopping bags and start walking, hoping he'll move from the snowballs onto more fun. He catches up with me just as I'm coming to the gate and slings an arm around my shoulder, all normal and buddy-buddy like.
I'm stupidly aware of how my skin's sticking to the fabric of my t shirt, of every time we bump hips as we walk, of how long the journey to my apartment seems to take, and how close I am to shivering. I start to rub my hands together to try and get some warmth back into them, but he stops me and starts talking about hypothermia and chafing, and I just let his voice wash over me as we walk, my brain sending out conflicting messages of `fuck, I'm cold' and `do me now', making me tongue tied. At last we're there, and the sudden heat of being inside makes me wish I didn't have nerves, every step I climb sending a jolt through my legs. By the time I get to my apartment, my hands are shaking with the cold, and I clench my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering.
He's efficient, though, getting both our wet clothes off, telling me to put my hands under my armpits to warm them up. He makes us both cups of tea while wearing just a pair of boxers, like it was completely normal. Once the cold isn't a distraction, Fraser definitely is- I find myself looking at him like Dief looks at Caravaggio, just staring into the tank with his tongue lolling out. I don't even put sugar in the tea, just drink it when he tells me to, then let him lead me to the shower, and here's where it's gonna change, cause taking care of someone when they're cold is one thing, taking a shower with them is a completely different one, and it's my, uh, area of expertise- well, more than Fraser's, anyway.
The hot water isn't too much of a shock now, and I lean back against the wall of the shower, relaxed. Fraser looks kinda skittish and jumpy, so I take one of his hands and pull him close, keeping eye contact, letting him find whatever it is he needs to in my face.
"I want you," I say quietly, but he stays still, not moving into me or away from me. "I want you," I say, fiercer this time, and I guess that was `open sesame' for him, because he closes the gap between us and kisses me, waterslick hands running down my back and sides, his cock getting hard against my hip so that every time I move he moans, low and dirty. We kinda forget about getting clean. I'm too busy noticing the feel of his skin, the way the mist of the shower makes his face seem slightly unfocussed, the way he's so much paler than me, less hair too. His nipples are pink from the heat of the show and God, the noises he makes when I lick one of them. Now that I've got him here to myself, I wanna play.
I guess he wants to play, too, cause he makes this impatient-sounding growl and presses himself right against me, chest to chest, cock to cock, until I'm surrounded by him, drowning in skin and water. Then he starts to move, reaching down with his hand to jerk us both off, nipping at my earlobe, then going down to my neck. He sets a brisk rhythm, like he's telling me to come, not teasing it out of me, licking down my neck as if even with the water it's the best thing he has ever tasted. I brace myself against his shoulders, try and stay upright and just let it happen, cause Fraser with an idea is an unstoppable force, and his idea at the moment is, uh, mutually agreeable, as it feels like pleasure's gonna curl my toes till they're inside out, rushing through my legs, up and down my spine until I'm arching against him, coming, my hands clenching, clinging to him as I fall apart. He comes soon after, nearly biting my neck but turning at the last moment to bury his face in the part where shoulder meets neck.
We stay like that for a while, just breathing. I stroke his back in little circles- he's shaking slightly, as if coming was like losing a fight- and let him rest. After a while he brings his head up to look at me, face so serious I'm braced for the joke before it comes, straightening out my own smile.
"So Ray, was that part the treaty, or the mutually agreeable acquiescence?"
I smile, pretty as you please. "Who says the battle's over, Frase?"
There'll always be more snow for fights, Frase. Even if I have to go to the Yukon Territories to find it, this ain't ever gonna stop.
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