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Eight Days A Week
for jamethiel_bane
Author's Notes: Thank you lots and lots to the lovely slashpile for beta. *hearts*
UNREQUITED
Fraser awoke with a smile on his face--oh, dear.--and an uncomfortable dampness in his longjohns. To his left, Diefenbaker raised his head and snorted.
Fraser chose to ignore him and spend a few moments basking in the aftercurrents of a most invigorating dream. He concentrated on remembering as much as he could and was pleased when several fragments floated to the surface of his conscious mind. His subconscious was startlingly inventive when it came to the subject of Stanley Raymond Kowalski. He'd never have consciously conceived of using a topiary in such a fashion. Without thinking, he reached down and started rubbing himself through his longjohns, replaying his favorite scene from the dream.
Dief chose that moment to interrupt his musings with several soft growls and a decidedly condescending "woof."
Fraser stared at the ceiling and sighed. Such was his burden to bear. "Wolves who live in glass houses," he said, looking pointedly at Dief.
Dief woofed indignantly.
Fraser arose from his cot and began gathering his clothes and toiletries. "I'm well aware of my promise, but you brought up the subject. It's hardly fair of you to mock me for transgressions of which you are also guilty. Or would you deny you were having a rather graphic dream about Ante when I woke you from molesting that stuffed manatee? Honestly, Diefenbaker. Your hypocrisy astounds me. I have no more control over my unconscious thoughts than you."
Dief barked twice, then licked his balls.
Fraser rubbed his eyebrow and blushed faintly. "Well, yes. It is true that I long ago mastered the art of lucid dreaming. However, it's very uncharitable of you to assume that's what I was doing."
Dief farted in response.
"You are a model of civility, Diefenbaker. I applaud you."
Diefenbaker, as was his wont, failed to be properly chastised. Fraser shook his head and left to attend to his morning ablutions.
After shaving, showering and dressing, he returned to his office. He stopped outside the door and took a moment to prepare himself for further commentary from Dief. Dief's silence of late on the subject of he and Ray had been a blessing, but clearly their dtente was over. Fraser had hoped that Dief had finally accepted defeat and given up his campaign to get Fraser to finally 'make a move'--as he put it--on Ray, but Dief had, apparently, only been taking a break to lick his wounds and devise a new strategy. If taunting Fraser could be considered a strategy.
Being teasing by Dief because of his...infatuation with Ray was infuriating. Not to mention insensitive and hurtful. He'd never teased Diefenbaker as a result of his romantic misadventures. Not even the time he'd spent three weeks courting Mrs. Elderberry's toy poodle, Giggles, before conceding the logistics of such a liaison rendered their romance not only impractical but dangerous.
Yes, it was true that Fraser had cherished certain...hopes. And yes, he did continue to indulge himself at times with idle daydreams of a life with Ray. And yes, if he were to be perfectly honest with himself-which he always strove to be-he was not above the occasional, rather detailed and entirely inappropriate fantasy. He was only human, after all. But he had accepted that his relationship with Ray was not going to expand beyond that of partners and friends and it was high time Dief did as well.
Ray was simply not inclined that way. The incident on the Henry Allen had made that abundantly clear, if nothing else. Ray had been upset--distraught even--when he had questioned Fraser about his actions later. 'Standard procedure,' he'd reassured Ray, and it was. Pressing his lips to Ray's really had been no more than a means to save his life; it hadn't been a romantic or a sexual advance. Still, the evidence of Ray's reaction was damning. Ray wasn't interested. The energy that sparked between them was nothing more than the bonds of close friendship.
Fraser stood up straight and squared his shoulders. He was not one to dwell on the impossible, to lament the unfairness of unrequited love. He was a Mountie and Mounties didn't mope. Ray's inability to return his feelings while regrettable was not a tragedy. He would not dwell on it, and he would not allow Diefenbaker to either. He would reprimand Dief and make absolutely certain Dief understood that the subject was closed.
His course set, Fraser opened the door briskly and entered his office. He pulled his office chair around and sat facing Dief.
"Dief. Sit up, please. I need to talk to you. I understand you're trying to help. You want me to be happy, and I am grateful for that. You have always been a loyal and steadfast companion. I trust you implicitly. Your judgment and advice in most matters is unassailable, but you have to--I am asking you to--please stop your campaign to unite Ray and me. It's not going to happen. My feelings." He faltered. Taking a breath, Fraser continued, "My feelings for Ray are private and not open to discussion. Ray is my friend. And yours. That is all. Understood?"
Dief woofed apologetically, and Fraser smiled.
"Thank you, Diefenbaker. I know you meant well. Please forgive my harsh words." He pet Dief on the head, then got up to put his cot away.
Dief rolled his eyes and barked several times.
"What do you mean 'it's too late, anyway'?"
As Dief yapped and barked his reply, Fraser's fingers went lax, and he dropped the blanket he had been folding.
"That's preposterous," said Fraser, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Ray's not seeing anyone. I would know. And you cannot smell love."
Dief woofed and yelped.
"I know your olfactory system is far more developed than mine. That's not in question. However, love is an emotion and one cannot--"
Dief interrupted him.
"All right. I'll grant you that, but the fact is, Ray isn't seeing anyone. I would know."
Dief disagreed loudly and at length.
Fraser stood there for several moments, stunned. It couldn't be true. It was impossible. He saw Ray nearly every day. If there was a new woman in his life, Ray would have mentioned it. In fact, he would have talked about it incessantly. Fraser said as much to Dief.
"Woof woof woof. Mrarrr. Woof woof."
Fraser felt ill. He sat heavily in his office chair. "He? A man?"
"Mrrrwwrf," replied Dief. "Woof. Woof woof woof."
It just wasn't possible. It wasn't true. It couldn't be. That would mean that Ray might have been receptive to--no, Dief was just being cruel, and Fraser said as much.
Dief barked angrily.
"No! I know you wouldn't. But--he's not--he would have told me." Fraser's mind reeled, a thousand thoughts flying through it at once.
"Woof. Woof woof woof."
"No. I couldn't. He didn't."
"Woof. Woof woof. Woof woof."
"No. It's not possible. I didn't...I couldn't have missed...it can't be true. It just...no." He shook his head. "No," he repeated. "No." Something cold and dark took residence in his chest, another shard of disappointment and failure slotting into place next to all the others.
Dief walked over and rested his head on Fraser's lap, woofing softly.
UNGLUED
DAY 1
Ray did a little cha-cha-cha on his way through the bullpen. Today was a good--no, a great day. He could feel it in his bones.
"Good morning, Francesca. You look real pretty today."
"What do you want?"
"Nothing! Can't a guy wish his sister a good morning and pay her a compliment for no reason excepting he's in a good mood and wants to spread the joy?"
Frannie eyed him suspiciously. "A leopard doesn't suddenly change his stripes, bro."
"Spots--never mind. You are not dragging me down. I am a happy, happy guy today. I am Mr. Happy. Spring has sprung, the sun is shining, the flowers are blooming, the birds are singing and--and a whole bunch of other good shit's happened, and I am in a good mood."
Frannie rolled her eyes.
Welsh approached. "Detective."
"Lieu!" said Ray, smiling warmly. "Top of the morning to you, sir!"
Welsh looked at him then Frannie.
"Spring has sprung," she explained.
He thrust a folder into Ray's hands. "Solve this today or something else is gonna get sprung." He walked off.
"Three bags full, sir!" Ray called out happily. Nothing was getting him down today. He strutted over to his desk. Fraser was sitting in his chair.
"Fraser! Buddy! Good to see you. What say we make Chicago a better place for kids and puppies today? We can start with this." He held up the folder.
Fraser stared at him.
"Yo! Earth to Fraser? Come in Fraser." He waved the folder in front of Fraser's face. "You all right, buddy?"
"Ah. Sorry, Ray. Yes, fine. Absolutely, unequivocally fine."
Ray beamed. "Me too! I am as fine as fiddles today, Fraser. Finer than green grass and good beer."
"You do seem rather chipper today," replied Fraser, rubbing his eyebrow.
'Freak,' thought Ray. He was going to rub it right off one of these days. Then he'd be walking around Chicago with one eyebrow. As if he didn't stand out enough in that clown coat.
"Is there any particular reason why?" asked Fraser.
"Huh?" said Ray, startled out of his reverie.
"Is there a particular reason you're in such high spirits today?"
"Well, Fraser. Let me tell you." He put his arm around Fraser and led him him out of the bullpen. "Spring has sprung, the sun is shining, the flowers are blooming, the birds are singing..."
DAY 2
Ray popped another french fry into his mouth, then took a bite out of his burger.
"Mmmmm," he groaned. "This is the best burger I've ever had in my entire life." He looked across the table at Fraser. "I'm serious, Fraser. I would swear in a court of law that this is the best burger I ever had."
"You shouldn't talk with your mouth full." It was the first thing Fraser had said in at least fifteen minutes.
"You are missing the point, my friend. Burgers like this--they come around once in a lifetime. It's like that--that brass ring thing. When a good burger shows itself, you gotta reach out and grab it."
"The burger?"
"Yeah. Grab the burger, Fraser. I'm telling you. Grab the burger. You won't be sorry."
"I'll stick with my tuna melt."
Ray shook his head sadly. "Suit yourself." It was a damn shame. Passing up an opportunity like this. Man didn't know how to appreciate a good burger. Didn't even appear to be appreciating his tuna melt. He'd only taken one bite so far.
"I see your good mood from yesterday continues," said Fraser. He looked at Ray significantly.
Ray shrugged. "What can I say, Fraser? I'm a happy guy." A happy guy with a great burger. He took another bite and chewed noisily.
"Yes. I've noticed that." Fraser cracked his neck. "Are you--is there anything you want to tell me?"
Ray thought for a second. "Nope. I told you about the burger already. You sure you don't want to get one too? This is a really good burger, Fraser."
Fraser frowned. "I'm quite sure. I'm not really that hungry anyway."
Ray smiled and shrugged, then took another bite of his burger. Damn, it was a good burger.
DAY 3
Ray frowned. Fraser was staring at his neck again. What the heck was he expecting to find there? A treasure map? The holy nail? It was making him twitchy. He flipped up his collar.
"We still on for the hockey game Saturday?" asked Ray. Fraser had definitely been acting weirder than usual lately. He better not be canceling on him.
"Absolutely. Unless...you have other plans."
"Nah. You crazy? I been looking forward to this all week. Hawks versus Leafs. Battle of nations. You do realize we're going to hand you your collective-type asses?"
"I think you'll find that the Toronto Maple Leafs are favored to win this match," said Fraser, standing just a tad straighter. Ray suppressed a smile. This was going to be good.
"Yeah, yeah. So says the Canuck. I got it on good authority that your center's a douchebag who can't skate in a straight line. My friend Dan saw them practicing earlier. So much for national pride. I thought you Canucks were born on skates," Ray taunted. He paused, expecting Fraser to jump in and defend his homeland. Half the fun of teasing Fraser was watching him get defensive and pissy while still maintaining his freakish Canadian politeness.
Fraser didn't say a word. He stood there, staring back at Ray.
"Uh...Fraser? You okay?"
"Absolutely!" He smiled. A fake Canadian smile, that didn't reach his eyes. "Well, then. I'll see you tomorrow. I should-get going. Thank you--ah--for your time." He turned and walked out.
"Fraser! You just got here!"
DAY 4
Ray jumped. "Jesus Christ, Fraser! You're gonna give me a heartache sneaking up on me like that."
"My apologies. I didn't mean to--that is, I determined you were concentrating, and I didn't want to disturb your concentration, so I approached you silently, in the hope that I wouldn't--ah, disturb your concentration."
Ray stared up at Fraser for a moment. He'd been sure Fraser was sniffing him. He shook his head. No. That was too weird, even for Fraser. "No problem. Just, you know. Make a little noise next time."
"Certainly." Fraser cracked his neck, rubbed his eyebrow, then took a seat next to Ray.
"Thanks, buddy. I don't come from a healthy stock of people. A few more good scares like that, I could keel over dead." He smiled. Fraser didn't.
"I'm kidding."
"Ah. Yes. Of course." Fraser offered up a weak smile.
"Canadians. Got no sense of humor," muttered Ray.
"Perhaps Americans have a bad sense of humor."
"Ha! You're a funny guy. What say we get some work done now, huh?"
DAY 5
Ray glanced up from the paperwork he was reviewing with Frannie and spied Fraser at his desk, going through the drawers.
"Hey," he called out. "What do you need?"
Fraser stopped rummaging in Ray's desk and looked at Ray with wide eyes. "Ah. A stapler. I am in a need of a stapler."
Ray walked over and picked up his stapler from the top of the desk. "It's right here. Jeez. I'm supposed to be the blind one." He held out the stapler to Fraser. Fraser stared at it dumbly for several seconds before reaching out and taking it.
"Thank you kindly. I'm going to go--staple things now." Fraser set the stapler on the desk and walked off.
DAY 6
Ray leaped off the couch and did his victory dance again. "Yes! Take that, Canada!" He turned to Fraser. "That's three. It ain't looking so good for Toronto, buddy," he gloated.
"Dan," replied Fraser.
"Huh?"
"Your friend Dan? The one who saw the Maple Leafs practicing. I haven't met him."
Ray frowned. What the hell was Fraser on about? "Uh, no. Why? You got a car need's fixing?"
"A car?"
"Dan's a mechanic."
"I see. He's a car aficionado. Like you."
"Uh. Yeah. I guess."
DAY 7
"Fraser," said Ray. "You are seriously starting to worry me here. You been acting weird all week, and now you're shirking guard duty? That's not just un-Canadian of you, that's--well, un-Fraserish."
Fraser stared over Ray's right shoulder and hissed at the wall, "I am not losing it!"
"I didn't say you were! Just--what's going on? You obviously got a bee in your hood about something. C'mon. Spill."
"Stuff it, Dad."
"Dad?"
DAY 8
Ray opened his door and peered blearily at a scowling Fraser. "It's three o'clock in the morning. Someone better be dead."
"Is he here now?" snapped Fraser.
"Who?"
"Just answering the fucking question!"
Ray's jaw dropped. Fraser looked horrified. He turned and fled.
UNDERSTOOD
Fraser paced back and forth in his office. His father was right. There was definitely a hole in his bag of marbles. He'd just shouted and cursed at Ray in the middle of the night, then run off without explanation.
He stopped pacing and collapsed onto his cot. He scrubbed at his face and then sat their, holding his head in his hands. He was losing his mind, and he was overcome with fatigue. The past week had been one of the worst of his life, and he'd managed to make it even worse.
He lifted his head and sighed. He'd have to apologize to Ray tomorrow, which was actually later today, and explain--oh, dear. Explain his strange behavior. That was certain to be a wholly mortifying undertaking.
Well, Ray, I've been behaving like a mentally unstable fishwife suffering from Tourette's Syndrome, because I received some distressing news. It's a funny story, actually. You see, I've had something of a school-girl crush on you for a rather long time. Truth be told, when you're not looking in my direction, I have a tendency to sigh morosely and gawk at you like a lovesick puppy, much like Turnbull does with the Queen's portrait. Last Monday, however, Diefenbaker informed me--most unkindly--that I'd missed my chance. I know about your relationship now, and while I'm happy for you, I find myself entertaining homicidal impulses towards your new beau, whomever he might be. Perhaps you could give me his name and address?
Yes, indeed. Any remaining shreds of dignity still in his possession would surely have departed by sundown.
Perhaps Inspector Thatcher had an errand for him? One that would take him away from the Consulate for a while. If he could just gain some distance from Chicago--from Ray--he could get himself under control again, restore his equilibrium.
Fraser sighed and shook his head. Running away would only make things worse. He turned to Dief and glared at him.
"You realize this is all your fault?"
"Woof. Woof woof woof."
"Insanity does not run in my family. Uncle Tiberius was an aber--" Fraser looked up, as the door to his office suddenly opened. It was Ray.
Diefenbaker leaped up and sprinted out the open door. Ray made a face, then closed it after him. He leaned back against it and crossed his arms. "So, Fraser. I'm thinking you owe me an explanation."
Fraser stood and walked over to him. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"It's okay, Fraser. Just tell me what's wrong."
"No," he said. He lifted his hand touched Ray's face, feeling the rough texture of his stubble. "I'm sorry for what I'm about to do."
Ray looked alarmed. "What are you--" Fraser leaned forward and pressed his lips to Ray's.
It was different than before, on the Henry Allen, and it was entirely the same. He wasn't giving life to Ray; Ray was giving it to him. There was no water, no threat of drowning, yet Fraser was drowning, unable to breathe through the thick haze of want that surrounded and filled him.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he said, over and over again between kisses. He grasped Ray's arms, so Ray couldn't push him away.
"Shh, shhh. It's okay, Fraser. It's okay."
"No. No. It's not okay. It's not. I can't stop my myself--"
"You don't gotta stop, Frase. It's okay." Ray didn't push him away. Ray responded eagerly, kissing him back. His arms wrapped around Fraser, and they continued to kiss for long moments. Deep, open-mouthed kisses.
Guilt and sorrow, desire and love warred in Fraser's chest. He kissed Ray again and again and again until Ray finally turned his head and gasped for breath. He kissed along Ray's jaw, running his tongue along the stubble, making Ray shudder and moan.
He licked and sucked the tendon of Ray's neck and felt Ray's hands slide under his shirt, up his back. Fraser was fully erect now, hard and aching. He couldn't stop himself from grinding his hips against Ray and was surprised to find an answering hardness.
He dropped to his knees abruptly, reaching for the button-fly of Ray's jeans. "Let me. Please, let me. I want to. Please let me."
"Anything. Jesus, anything," groaned Ray.
Fraser unbuttoned Ray's jeans, then pulled them down along with his shorts. He pressed his face to Ray's groin and breathed deeply. Ray smelled wonderful, like sex and a hard day's work and maleness and Ray.
"Oh Jesus, Fraser, that's--fuck."
Fraser looked up, prepared to see mindless lust at best, pity at worst, but all he saw was honest desire and affection. His heart unclenched a tiny bit. He grasped Ray's cock, stroked it slowly a few times and watched Ray eyes go wide and unfocussed.
He stopped stroking Ray and held his cock lightly, rubbing the area below the frenulum with his thumb. Ray groaned softly. Fraser's own erection had become unbearably uncomfortable. He reached down, unzipped his jeans, and freed it, gasping in relief. He grasped his cock and jerked himself hard. Three strokes and Fraser was coming already.
Ray whimpered, and Fraser looked up again.
"That was--god," Ray shook his head. "You're so fucking beautiful. Seeing you come..."
"Ray," breathed Fraser.
He leaned in and licked along the shaft of Ray's cock, up to the glans, then sucked it into his mouth. Ray breathed harder. His chest heaved, and his hands moved restlessly against the door, searching for purchase. Finally, he placed them on Fraser's head. He buried his fingers in Fraser's hair and began thrusting shallowly into Fraser's mouth.
"Oh, god. I can't--too good. S'too good," he slurred. His head fell back, hitting the door with a soft thud. Fraser grasped Ray's balls and rolled then lightly in his hand as Ray continued to thrust, his cock sliding wetly in and out of Fraser's mouth, across his lips. His thrusts became more vigorous and when Fraser felt Ray's balls draw up, he moved two fingers back and rubbed along Ray's perineum. Ray shot down his throat, gasping and panting, then slumped to floor. Fraser pounced, kissing him again and again and again until Ray pushed him away.
"I need to...breathe, buddy."
"I'm sorry."
"No! Don't be...starting that...again," said Ray between gulps of air. "It's good--great...everything's greatness. I just...need to catch my breath."
As he sat there watching Ray recover, the enormity of what he'd just done burst forth upon Fraser's conscience. Shame flooded him, and he looked away.
"I'm sorry, Ray. I'm so sorry," he said miserably.
"What the fuck? I told you not to-what are you sorry for?"
"I attacked you. I--"
"Do not even, Fraser," Ray said, scowling. "You're not stupid. You know I wanted that as much as you."
"But your--your friend."
"What friend? What are you talking about?"
"The man you've been seeing. The one you're in love with." He looked away again, unable to meet Ray's eyes. "I would never want to get in the way of your happiness. I honestly didn't intend"
"Fraser--"
"to do what I just did. I wanted to, of course. Not like that, however. I envisioned that we'd discuss it first before-"
"Fraser--"
"engaging in relations, but well, I suppose I became a bit unhinged over the past week, and-"
"Fraser--"
"I couldn't stop myself. I can only hope that you can forgive me, and that your friend--"
"FRASER!"
He looked at Ray reluctantly.
"What the hell are you talking about? There is no friend! I'm not dating anyone! Where-how-why-I don't even know where to begin! What the fuck--what is going on with you?" He reached out and lay his hand on Fraser's arm. "Talk to me, buddy."
Fraser's brow crinkled in confusion. "You're not dating anyone? But. You have to be. Diefenbaker said--" Fraser stopped as comprehension dawned. "I am going to kill him."
"What?" said Ray.
Fraser covered his face.
"Okay, now you gotta tell me. What did Dief do?"
"He said-He said I was too late," Fraser mumbled. He looked at Ray again and felt his face heating. "He assured me he could...smell the guy you were dating and that you--"
Ray suddenly burst out laughing. "Dief told you I was dating some guy, and you went crazy jealous! Oh, my god. That is--that is--oh, my god." He clutched his sides and shook with laughter.
"It's not funny, Ray."
"Oh, believe me, Fraser," said Ray in between fits of laughter. "It's real fucking funny."
Fraser glared. It wasn't funny. It wasn't. Dief was a very, very bad wolf. Ray rolled on the ground laughing, his pants around his knees. Fraser's lips twitched and suddenly he was laughing too. Ray threw his arms around him and they lay there on the floor of his office, laughing like loons.
Through the door, Fraser heard Dief barking. "I told you so."
FIN
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