ds_flashfiction | Lost and Found challenge by china shop

Fraser/Vecchio, 1900 words, R-rated, with thanks to

mergatrude for read-through.

Civil Obedience

"Where is it, where is it?" Ray muttered to himself as he rummaged through his bag. "I know I packed it." It wasn't like Texas didn't have drugstores, but it had been a long couple of days, it was late and Ray was through dealing with anyone who had a drawling accent and big hair.

Fraser and Dief slunk inside and shut the door behind them. Fraser's hair was plastered to his forehead, and both of them looked relieved to be back in the motel room where there was air conditioning and plenty of water in the fridge.

Fraser put down a dish for Dief and emptied a bottle of water into it, and then cracked a bottle for himself.

Ray resumed his search. It wasn't in the main compartment — maybe the outside pocket. They'd packed in a hurry. In fact, packing was a pretty sophisticated word for what they'd actually done, which was grab a few things from Ray's place, shove them in a bag, kiss Ma goodbye and hit the road. Ray had remembered his toothbrush — and been willing to share it with Fraser — but they'd had to buy toothpaste from a two-bit gas station the night before. Ray hadn't known that toothpaste could taste stale.

They hadn't had time to stop by Fraser's apartment, so by now he had visible, patchy stubble and his hair was strangely tufty. Ray couldn't look at him without getting a lump in his throat, so he concentrated on his bag instead, and grunted with annoyance. "That does it."

He upended the bag and shook out two t-shirts, pants, a couple of pairs of shorts and Maria's first aid kit that she kept under the bathroom sink. There were some balls of lint the size of hamsters, nearly six dollars in loose change, and a brochure about tourist attractions in Tulsa. There was an ancient Cosmopolitan magazine — Christ only knew where that had come from — and a couple of equally mysterious troll dolls. And that was it.

Fraser sat down on the edge of the other bed. "Lost something?"

"Yeah." Ray wasn't good at talking about it. It was easier to just grab the relevant items and imply, but in the absence of that— "I packed lube. I know I did. And now it's gone kapoof!"

"Kapoof?" The corner of Fraser's mouth curved up, but he didn't meet Ray's eye.

"Yeah." Ray straightened and studied him. "Benny?"

Fraser looked innocent as an angel, confirming Ray's suspicions. "Ray?"

"Do you know where the lube is?"

Fraser opened his mouth to speak, but Ray saw distraction coming at him like a ten-ton truck, and he side-stepped with the experience of a seasoned player.

"The personal lubricant which we are going to need if you're going to fuck me tonight," he clarified. "Which I hope to God you are, because we are finally alone, we've dispatched our duty, and I am dying here."

Fraser cracked his neck. "Ray, we're officers of the law—"

"Yes, we are," said Ray. "Which is why chased that scumbag Williams all the way from Illinois to Wichita Falls, and why we rescued Amanda Craig from the trunk of Williams' car, and why we don't care that those FBI morons turned up two minutes later and took the credit for the whole thing. Craig is safe, the bad guy's in custody, and we have done our duty. Now help me find the lube so you can fuck me."

"I can't," said Fraser.

Ray sat down, realized too late there wasn't a chair behind him, and grabbed wildly for the bedspread, landing in a heap on the floor with all his worldly Texas-located possessions. "You can't? You can't help me find the lube, or you can't do the other thing?"

"I'm sorry, Ray." Fraser came over and hauled him upright, and gave him the sweetest, sexiest kiss imaginable, making Ray hard and even more desperate, and really fucking confused.

"Explain this to me, Benny. Explain to me why we can't strip each other naked and take ourselves to bed. Are you sick? Are you impaired in some way I should know about? Are you—?" Ray couldn't think of any other reasons why Fraser wouldn't be on board with this.

"Oh, I can certainly strip you naked," said Fraser, his eyes dark. He started unbuttoning Ray's shirt. "And I'd be more than happy to take you to bed."

"So?"

Fraser stroked his thumb over Ray's sternum. "It's illegal in the state of Texas for two men to engage in penetrative sex."

Ray stared at him slack-jawed. "You're kidding me, right?"

"I'm sorry."

"Fraser, that is a stupid law," said Ray. "It is a bad law! You cannot possibly believe that we should abide by some stupid bigoted law that reduces what we have down to body-parts and orifices."

"No, of course not. You're quite right." Fraser took him by the shoulders and kissed him again. This time it was like being kissed by a block of wood.

Ray took a deep breath and somehow held onto his tattered patience. All he had to do was to get Fraser in the mood. Once he was on board, he'd stop thinking and they could have their wicked and stupidly illegal way with each other. He pulled Fraser's shirt out of his jeans and bared his belly, and then knelt down and kissed him there, already working the zipper on his jeans.

Fraser pushed him away. Fraser actually pushed him away! "What now?"

"The law also prohibits oral sex," said Fraser apologetically. "Perhaps we could, uh, hold each other."

"I don't believe this." Ray glared up at him. "You hid the lube, didn't you? You stashed it away so you wouldn't be tempted."

Fraser bit his lower lip. "Please, Ray. I'm in your country as a representative of the RCMP. I can't do anything that would bring Canada into disrepute, and the law clearly states—"

Ray sat back with a sigh. "It's a bad, stupid law, and you know it. We should break it. It'd be a political statement. Call it civil disobedience."

Normally when Ray begged Fraser to fuck him, he used shorter words, but desperate times called for verbiage, and it looked like it was working. Or, at least, Fraser's expression had gone from stubborn and apologetic to thoughtful.

"Perhaps," he said slowly.

Ray's ears perked up, and not just his ears.

"Perhaps," said Fraser again, "if we were to turn ourselves in afterwards, it would indeed make a political statement, not to mention setting an example for young gay men and women who—"

"Fraser! We are not turning ourselves in for having sex! Sex is my God-given right as an American, along with automatic weapons, baseball and junk food." Ray covered his face for a long minute. "Just shut up, okay? Do not say another word." He clambered to his feet, stalked into the bathroom and brushed his teeth loudly, hating Fraser, hating himself and most of all hating the entire state of Texas and its ridiculous statutes.

Two days! Two days he'd been driving across the country with Fraser at his side, the Riv's engine humming like a bird. Two days they'd followed William's carelessly discarded cigarette butts and nicotine gum and the cassette of country music left by the side of the highway. Fraser had practically licked the length of the highway from Tulsa to Oklahoma City to follow the guy's trail. And they'd caught him. They'd caught him while the girl was still alive. They'd led the FBI right to him.

This was supposed to be their night of triumph. A celebration. Together.

Ray spat toothpaste into the sink. "Whoever heard of a celibate celebration?"

From knee-level came a lupine whine.

"No," said Ray. "No, you cannot use my toothbrush. You're a wolf!"

Dief lay down and grumbled into his paws. Ray left him there and went back into the bedroom.

Fraser was already in bed. The other bed. He was wearing a sleeveless undershirt and reading the Cosmopolitan magazine from Ray's bag. He turned the page and his eyebrows inched up his forehead.

"Okay," said Ray. He was desperate enough to be reasonable. "Anal and oral are off the menu. So what can we do?"

Fraser looked up, his tongue swiped his lower lip, and Ray swallowed a whimper and started tearing his way out of his clothes. Maybe if he got naked, he could tempt Fraser from the path of straight and narrow, just like Fraser was tempting him.

Except he didn't really want Fraser to compromise his morals, even if his morals were — in this case — wrong. Being a boy scout was a part of who Fraser was. Ray loved that about him, even when it drove him nuts.

He sat down naked on the bed facing Fraser and rubbed his hands along his thighs. "Isn't there anything?"

"We could." Fraser cleared his throat. "We could talk."

"Talk?" Ray choked back a protest. "I'm not really in the mood for an Inuit story."

Fraser glanced back down at the magazine in his lap. He folded it open and handed it to Ray. "How to Talk Dirty," read Ray. He looked up. "Really?"

"There's also an interesting suggestion on page 27," said Fraser.

Ray flicked through and found the column in question. "Watch him wank — learn what he likes," it said with alliterative artistry.

"And we can do this without the sodomy police busting in the door?" he asked, just to be sure.

"Certainly. As far as I'm aware, there's no restriction on looking." Fraser pushed his covers down. He was naked under there, already hard. His hand crept over his belly.

Ray blinked back down at the magazine for a long minute while his self-consciousness warred with his desire. "Okay," he said at last. "Okay, we do it your way — on one condition."

"Mmmm?" Fraser's fingers slid lower, tangling with his pubes.

Ray wasn't sure if his words were even getting through, but he said it anyway, if only for pride's sake. "On condition that when we get back home, we do it my way. A lot."

Fraser groaned. "Yeah," he said in his dark chocolate voice.

Ray lay down, unable to tear his eyes from Fraser, his blunt hands, his scarred perfect body, his mouth. Jesus Christ, his mouth! This wasn't what Ray had wanted but hell, who was he to turn down a show like this! Fraser wrapped his fingers around his dick and Ray mirrored him, his hand moving in time with Fraser's, his dick tight and hard and hot.

Fraser was watching intently, his gaze dark and possessive, and Ray sped up helplessly, his hips hitching forward. But. "You know," he couldn't help saying despite everything, "this isn't really so bad, even — ah! — even compared to what we— what we could be doing. What I was hoping for. But — oh! fuck! — I gotta say, Benny, it would be—" He gasped for breath. "Be a whole lot better if you hadn't taken it into your head to hide the — oh! Oh, Christ, you look incredible! Do that again!"

END