Fic: Rough (Fraser/Ray K)
Jun. 5th, 2005 10:19 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
hyperfocused.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionTitle: Rough
Author: HYPERFocused
Pairing: Fraser/Ray K
Rating: No Pants (but that doesn't necessarily mean anything here, except when it does).
"You know, that mutt of yours sure has a good life, Frase," Ray groused that morning on the way to the precinct, though he didn't seem mad enough to forego tossing him the other half of his muffin.
"True, Ray. There is that term, 'a dog's life.' Or a wolf's as the case may be. Why in the Yukon, an animal like Dieffenbaker would be working hard for his treats, and they wouldn't be of the Otis Spunkmeyer variety." He's a lucky creature indeed." Fraser looked down at Dief to make sure he knew it, and was sufficiently grateful.
As their day got busier, Fraser forgot the conversation.
The first thing Fraser noticed that evening that was - odd - was the way Ray kept, well, Fraser would almost call it whimpering, and looking over at the door. It was as if he had an urgent need to be outside, but for some reason couldn't seem to manage the knob by himself. Strange, but then Ray had always been a bit idiosyncratic, so Fraser chalked it up to spring fever. Even in Chicago, which was much too hot for his liking much of the year, it could get to the best of people. Why, once, even he had succumbed, walking out of the consulate without having buffed his buttons, or even folded the brim of his Stetson just so.
Weirder still, whenever one of Mrs Bannek's Scottish Fold's wandered outside and sauntered past their window, Ray would leap up from his seat and press his face to the glass. Fraser had never known Ray to show any particular ire towards cats or their owners, and certainly Irene Bannek was perfectly harmless.
Fraser was flummoxed when Ray knocked the donuts onto the floor, and ate half a dozen in just a few moments, without having used his hands to open the package. He was even more unsettled when instead of going for the last of the coffee, which Fraser had (he thought) thoughtfully percolated for him, instead had lapped at the half glass of water leftover from when he had taken care of the ficus earlier. Dissatisfied, he'd wandered into the bathroom, where Fraser really didn't want to know what he was up to. He heard more water lapping, but he didn't hear a flush.
"Are you quite all right, Ray?" Fraser asked, when he found Ray sitting on his haunches in front of him. Ray nodded enthusiastically, then placed his arms on Fraser's thighs, and started mouthing his crotch through his pants.
"My, you're certainly in a playful mood, aren't you?" Fraser gasped, but spread his legs a little wider. "If you'd just wait a minute I could," he gulped a little "take these off." He could swear Ray growled at him, then licked even harder. "Or maybe not. All right, Ray.! That's enough! I swear you're just like Dieffenbaker when he - Oh my God!"
If he didn't know better, he'd have said Ray was acting like - but no, that was completely ridiculous. It had been a very long day, after all. Fraser was obviously misinterpreting things. Seeing the ghost of one's dead father was one thing. Thinking your partner is turning into -- well, that was quite another. Fraser vowed to put his addled imagination to bed for the night. Perhaps things would look less nonsensical in the morning.
Besides, Ray, however strange he might be acting, was just as intent on getting Fraser out of his clothes as he usually was. And if he didn't seem to want to use his hands to do so, that was all right with Fraser.
Fraser didn't even mind when Ray's bizarre behavior followed them into the bedroom. It was a good thing he had some control, because Ray clearly didn't. He nearly barked with impatience as Fraser got out the lube and began to prepare himself, because Ray didn't seem inclined to do anything but give into his animal instincts - not that Fraser was complaining.
He loved Ray, no matter what, and because of this Fraser was up for anything. Apparently so was Ray. He skipped most of their usual tender foreplay, instead leaping onto Fraser's back, and sinking his teeth into the nape of his neck. A little kinkier than their usual games, but Fraser could deal with it. He could certainly deal with the combined pleasure/pain of Ray's wordless thrust inside him. Ray stayed inside him long after he'd come, panting, until he finally slipped out. Then he got up and circled the bed three times, finally flopping down on top of the covers and falling asleep.
Fraser was happily dreaming when he heard a crash from the living room, and the brash jangle of punk music turned up too loud for the wee hours of the morning. Ray's head shot up, too. He covered his ears with his hands as if the noise was painful. "Hold on, Ray. I'll see what Dief's gotten into now. Don't be too angry, he can't hear how loud it is, after all." For some reason, Ray's usual snort of disbelief didn't come.
Pulling on his boxers (Fraser still felt uncomfortable walking around naked, even in their own apartment), he headed quickly for the living room. "I swear, Dieffenbaker, another night like this, and you'll be the next visitor to that lab we -" Fraser stopped dead as he witnessed what had happened to the beast.
Dieffenbaker had changed. His usual sleek, if fluffy, coat was swept up against the grain, and sticky with gel. How a dog with no opposable thumbs had gotten into the hair products Fraser was clueless to answer. Nor could he discern how it was that the animal was now on his hind legs, "rocking out" (as Ray would say) to the stereo as gracefully as Ray ever had, and nobody, Fraser knew, could match his partner for dance moves.
That's when he was sure. It was weird. It was very weird. And he hoped to hell it would be over before his father reappeared with something pithy to say like "Sleeping with that Yank is one thing, son, but really, bestiality ought to be beneath you."
Author: HYPERFocused
Pairing: Fraser/Ray K
Rating: No Pants (but that doesn't necessarily mean anything here, except when it does).
"You know, that mutt of yours sure has a good life, Frase," Ray groused that morning on the way to the precinct, though he didn't seem mad enough to forego tossing him the other half of his muffin.
"True, Ray. There is that term, 'a dog's life.' Or a wolf's as the case may be. Why in the Yukon, an animal like Dieffenbaker would be working hard for his treats, and they wouldn't be of the Otis Spunkmeyer variety." He's a lucky creature indeed." Fraser looked down at Dief to make sure he knew it, and was sufficiently grateful.
As their day got busier, Fraser forgot the conversation.
The first thing Fraser noticed that evening that was - odd - was the way Ray kept, well, Fraser would almost call it whimpering, and looking over at the door. It was as if he had an urgent need to be outside, but for some reason couldn't seem to manage the knob by himself. Strange, but then Ray had always been a bit idiosyncratic, so Fraser chalked it up to spring fever. Even in Chicago, which was much too hot for his liking much of the year, it could get to the best of people. Why, once, even he had succumbed, walking out of the consulate without having buffed his buttons, or even folded the brim of his Stetson just so.
Weirder still, whenever one of Mrs Bannek's Scottish Fold's wandered outside and sauntered past their window, Ray would leap up from his seat and press his face to the glass. Fraser had never known Ray to show any particular ire towards cats or their owners, and certainly Irene Bannek was perfectly harmless.
Fraser was flummoxed when Ray knocked the donuts onto the floor, and ate half a dozen in just a few moments, without having used his hands to open the package. He was even more unsettled when instead of going for the last of the coffee, which Fraser had (he thought) thoughtfully percolated for him, instead had lapped at the half glass of water leftover from when he had taken care of the ficus earlier. Dissatisfied, he'd wandered into the bathroom, where Fraser really didn't want to know what he was up to. He heard more water lapping, but he didn't hear a flush.
"Are you quite all right, Ray?" Fraser asked, when he found Ray sitting on his haunches in front of him. Ray nodded enthusiastically, then placed his arms on Fraser's thighs, and started mouthing his crotch through his pants.
"My, you're certainly in a playful mood, aren't you?" Fraser gasped, but spread his legs a little wider. "If you'd just wait a minute I could," he gulped a little "take these off." He could swear Ray growled at him, then licked even harder. "Or maybe not. All right, Ray.! That's enough! I swear you're just like Dieffenbaker when he - Oh my God!"
If he didn't know better, he'd have said Ray was acting like - but no, that was completely ridiculous. It had been a very long day, after all. Fraser was obviously misinterpreting things. Seeing the ghost of one's dead father was one thing. Thinking your partner is turning into -- well, that was quite another. Fraser vowed to put his addled imagination to bed for the night. Perhaps things would look less nonsensical in the morning.
Besides, Ray, however strange he might be acting, was just as intent on getting Fraser out of his clothes as he usually was. And if he didn't seem to want to use his hands to do so, that was all right with Fraser.
Fraser didn't even mind when Ray's bizarre behavior followed them into the bedroom. It was a good thing he had some control, because Ray clearly didn't. He nearly barked with impatience as Fraser got out the lube and began to prepare himself, because Ray didn't seem inclined to do anything but give into his animal instincts - not that Fraser was complaining.
He loved Ray, no matter what, and because of this Fraser was up for anything. Apparently so was Ray. He skipped most of their usual tender foreplay, instead leaping onto Fraser's back, and sinking his teeth into the nape of his neck. A little kinkier than their usual games, but Fraser could deal with it. He could certainly deal with the combined pleasure/pain of Ray's wordless thrust inside him. Ray stayed inside him long after he'd come, panting, until he finally slipped out. Then he got up and circled the bed three times, finally flopping down on top of the covers and falling asleep.
Fraser was happily dreaming when he heard a crash from the living room, and the brash jangle of punk music turned up too loud for the wee hours of the morning. Ray's head shot up, too. He covered his ears with his hands as if the noise was painful. "Hold on, Ray. I'll see what Dief's gotten into now. Don't be too angry, he can't hear how loud it is, after all." For some reason, Ray's usual snort of disbelief didn't come.
Pulling on his boxers (Fraser still felt uncomfortable walking around naked, even in their own apartment), he headed quickly for the living room. "I swear, Dieffenbaker, another night like this, and you'll be the next visitor to that lab we -" Fraser stopped dead as he witnessed what had happened to the beast.
Dieffenbaker had changed. His usual sleek, if fluffy, coat was swept up against the grain, and sticky with gel. How a dog with no opposable thumbs had gotten into the hair products Fraser was clueless to answer. Nor could he discern how it was that the animal was now on his hind legs, "rocking out" (as Ray would say) to the stereo as gracefully as Ray ever had, and nobody, Fraser knew, could match his partner for dance moves.
That's when he was sure. It was weird. It was very weird. And he hoped to hell it would be over before his father reappeared with something pithy to say like "Sleeping with that Yank is one thing, son, but really, bestiality ought to be beneath you."
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no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 04:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 04:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 04:38 am (UTC)As for Dief wanting him, come on:) Doesn't everyone?
Sorry if I disturbed you:)
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 04:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 05:04 am (UTC)(Of course, it could be because I'm perceiving this as Ray having taken on certain dog characteristics, not as Dief fucking Fraser. Then it doesn't get in the way of my dominance or biting fickinks. Yeah, that's it....)
Oops!
Date: 2005-06-08 08:14 pm (UTC)After reading all the comments, now I'm seeing this as Dief fucking Fraser. And the most disturbing thing is that I'm not as disturbed by that as I should be*g.* But, hey, you're right, everybody else wants Fraser...
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 08:42 am (UTC)That's really disturbing! Why am I laughing like a maniac?!?!?!
Weirder still, whenever one of Mrs Bannek's Scottish Fold's wandered outside and sauntered past their window, Ray would leap up from his seat and press his face to the window. Fraser had never known Ray to show any particular ire towards cats or their owners, and certainly Irene Bannek was perfectly harmless.
::chuckles::
How a dog with no opposable thumbs had gotten into the hair products Fraser was clueless to answer.
FRASER! C'mon!
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 11:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 12:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 02:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 03:02 pm (UTC)I kept waiting for him to wake up, esp. with punk!wolf Dief dancing in the living room!
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 10:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-07 04:49 am (UTC)Eeeeek! Neat, but Eeeeek!