ds_flashfiction | Weaponry Challenge by lordess renegade

Title: Three Thousand in the Shade
Author: lordess renegade
Pairing: RayK/Fraser
Word Count: 544
Rating: PG13
Summary: Knife porn. Unfortunately, light on the porn.

It's four thousand eighty degrees out, and Fraser can't find anything better to do with himself than fiddle with his wood.

Ok. Rephrase.

He's sitting there on the floor, leaning up against my couch, and he's whittling. Honest to god freaking whittling. I mean, who does that?

Well, Fraser, apparently.

He glances up, hearing me in the doorway. "Did you have a good shower?" he asks.

"I swear, whoever invented cold water should be given a goddamn medal or something," I tell him, sitting down on the couch behind him and toweling some of the damp out of my hair.

"Well, Ray, I don't think—"

"If you even think of telling me that no one invented cold water, I swear to god, Fraser, I'll kick you in the head."

"Understood."

I wave the towel in the direction of the bathroom. "Offer still stands," I say, but he shakes his head and turns back to his carving.

"Thank you, but I'm fine."

And he is fine, that's what kills me. At least he's lost the hat, but he's sitting there in his big heavy Mountie suit, and his boots, and he's not even breaking a sweat. "I don't believe you," I tell him. "My air conditioning's broken, and you're sitting there like it's freaking February. What, has that jacket got built in climate control or something?"

"I don’t think the Canadian government would find it efficient to invest in such a luxury, Ray."

"Efficiency can bite my ass," I say, leaning back into the couch and stretching my legs out beside him. We stop talking for a while, and I just watch him. His hands haven't stopped moving since I came in the room, scraping the knife across that damn piece of wood. Every so often he'll slide his fingers lightly across it, brushing away some dust and examining it carefully. It's the same way he looks when he touches me, all intense blue eyed concentration, and it turns me on like you wouldn't believe.

He looks up at me then, like he heard me think that or something…and knowing him, maybe he did. He doesn't stop what he's doing, but he keeps his eyes on me, watching me watching him, while his fingers and that knife slide across the surface of the carving. Stroking, rubbing, feeling it hard against his skin…

I lean down and take his mouth with mine, tasting the heat of him that he never lets show on the outside. My hand finds his, and I hear the block make a solid thump as it lands halfway across the room. Then I find the other hand, feel the cool slickness of the knife against my skin. I take it from him gently, careful to only let the flat of it glide across his hand as I move it away to drop it onto the coffee table. He shivers at the contact, reaches up to grip the back of my neck, sinking his fingers into my hair, still damp from the shower.

Then he's tugging me towards him, and I'm in a tangle on his lap with the towel around my waist slowly slipping off. I lean in to lick the skin of his neck, and the taste there makes me smile.

I'm the only one who gets to make the Mountie sweat.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

broken-kite.livejournal.com

He's sitting there on the floor, leaning up against my couch, and he's whittling. Honest to god freaking whittling. I mean, who does that?

Fraser whittling is porn in itself, it's such a great image I could see it as I was reading. Yay for arts-and-crafts Fraser!

aerye.livejournal.com

Oh -- this is marvelous! Thank you!

justbreathe80.livejournal.com

This was very, very hot.

Then I find the other hand, feel the cool slickness of the knife against my skin. I take it from him gently, careful to only let the flat of it glide across his hand as I move it away to drop it onto the coffee table. He shivers at the contact, reaches up to grip the back of my neck, sinking his fingers into my hair, still damp from the shower.

I was not aware until I read that line that I had a thing for knives. Whoa.
This was great.

the_antichris.livejournal.com

Fraser can't find anything better to do with himself than fiddle with his wood.

Ok. Rephrase.

I'm in love with that line like you wouldn't believe. And the rest of this.