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[bluster.livejournal.com]

I'm posting this for Kellie and I'll forward comments.



Stalled
© 2003 Kellie Matthews
980 words

It wasn't like they had never done it before. They had. Dozens of times, if not more. The first time, they'd been in the middle of a case, talking intently and they walked in together and one thing led to another and the next thing he knew they were doing it. Together. Both of them. In one narrow space. It had seemed perfectly natural. Just. . . unzip. Take it out. Do it. Shake it off. Put it back. Zip. Button. Flush.

Normal. Completely.

Except. . . how the hell was that normal? Guys did not share stalls when taking a leak. Well, except for that one time when the Ladies' had been out of order and Stella had come into the Men's with him but that wasn't the same thing at all. This was Fraser. A guy. With a dick. With a really nice, uncut, decent-sized, kind of pretty dick. Ray kept trying to figure out how the uncut thing worked. Not having that kind himself, he was sort of clueless.

Jesus, Kowalski. Thinking Fraser's dick was pretty was not helping matters. At all. He closed his eyes and started doing math problems in his head, hoping the sheer terror of long division without paper would fix the problem. Then he heard it. The sound. . . stopped. Not with the kind of trickle-off sound that you got when you were finishing up. It just stopped. Abruptly. He opened his eyes to find Fraser watching him, his gaze carefully at eye level. He looked concerned. It must have registered on him that Ray hadn't even started yet.

"Is something wrong?" Fraser asked politely.

Ray stared at him. Words would be good here. Unfortunately words seemed to have gone south for the winter. He covered by clearing his throat. Oh look, not all the words had left. He still had a few. "Changed my mind," he managed.

"Ah," Fraser said, and nodded, returning to what he'd been doing.

Ray closed his eyes again. This time when the sound stopped it seemed normal. He heard a faint sigh of what sounded like relief. Those four big mugs of tea Fraser had chugged with breakfast had clearly built up quite a head. Cripes. Do not think 'head' when you're standing in a bathroom stall six inches from Fraser, trying to get your friggin' cock to stop acting like you OD'd on Viagra.

Closing his eyes wasn't helping either, because in his mind instead of Fraser putting himself away, re-tucking his undershirt, and fastening his pants, he was standing there with one hand around his cock like he was contemplating the nature of the universe and forgot he had his dick in his hand. All Ray had to do was just slide down to his knees and he'd be right at the perfect height to just lean in and. . . .

"Ray?"

His eyes snapped open. He shoved his fists deep in his pockets, hoping that would push the bottom of his jacket low enough.

"Yeah?"

His voice cracked. It hadn't done that since the last time he'd had a spate of completely inappropriate hard-ons, back in eighth grade . . . huh . . . Math class. Maybe long division hadn't been a good idea after all.

Fraser studied his face, his slow, intent gaze almost a caress. His tongue stole out to moisten his lips, and it was all Ray could do not to a) whimper and 2) grab Fraser and shove him up against the wall and go for it. The memory of Fraser's right hook quashed that idea fast, though. Fraser's gaze flicked down, widened, and then returned to Ray's, dawning knowledge in his eyes.

"Ray?" he said again, the query softer now. Almost husky.

"Yeah," Ray said, copping to it, bracing for the fist, even though a smoky tendril of hope curled up through him at the tone in Fraser's voice.

Fraser smiled. It would have been a scary smile if Ray hadn't already known the wild was inside Fraser the way it was. Even knowing that, it took his breath away. Fingers hooked into his belt, pulled him closer.

"Ray," Fraser said, his name a sigh.

"Yeah."

Ray's eyes closed again, his head tipping back against the smooth metal divider. Lips brushed the hollow of his throat, the point of his jaw, teeth briefly nipped his earlobe, and then lips came down on his. He gasped into Fraser's mouth, lips parting. Fraser took advantage by flicking his tongue inside. Ray's hands came up, fisted in Fraser's hair, holding him as the kiss went from sweet to savage, repression doubled, and then unleashed. Their bodies aligned, and Fraser moved against him, rocking hard. Ray was more than happy to find he wasn't the only one sporting wood. He let one hand unclench from Fraser's hair to fall and flatten against the firm round of a buttock, flexing under his palm with each movement.

The squeak of door hinges froze them in place moments before footsteps sounded, echoing in the tiled space. Fraser pulled back, eyes wide. Ray put a finger to his mouth, unnecessarily, but Fraser didn't look offended. Water ran in the sink, and the clatter of glass on porcelain told Ray that someone was filling a coffee pot. They waited, breathing in short, silent gasps. After a few moments the water stopped, and next came the sound of paper towels being pulled from the dispenser. Finally the footsteps receded, and the squeaky hinges groaned again.

Just as they were about to relax, the hinges gave one more creak.

"Kowalski, in my office when you're done. We need to confer about the Barbara case."

"Uh. . . yes, sir," Ray said.

"You too, Fraser," Welsh said, and then the door grumbled closed again.

They stared at each other, and then burst out laughing. When they'd caught their breath, Fraser dropped a brief kiss on Ray's mouth.

"Ray," he promised.

"Yeah," Ray promised back.


* * * Fin * * *