More Than I Ever Dreamed Of

Fraser was awake, yet not awake. He was in that twilight where part of the mind says 'get up' and the other part says 'no'. He was vaguely aware of strong arms around him. He inhaled deeply, placing the sent. It was Ray. His mind lost the battle and went back down into a deep sleep.

Ray slowly eased away from Fraser. Padding barefoot to the kitchen, he started a pot of coffee. The clock said 8 am. He slept maybe four hours. He made two quick, quiet phone calls explaining (first to his boss, then to Fraser's) about the drive by shooting and death of the teenager in the wee morning hours.

"So, anyway, Ma'am, I thought maybe it was a good idea for him to crash on my couch. --Uh, no, Ma'am. I sorta slipped a little vodka into some tea so he's still sleepin'. -- Yes, Ma'am, I'll see to it. -- Yeah, thanks."

He went back into the bedroom. Fraser was still asleep, his tousled curls a dark contrast to the white pillow covers. His eyes were swollen from the tears he had shed for the boy who had died cradled in his arms. Fraser rolled onto his side. Ray slid softly into the bed and curled himself protectively around Fraser's back.

Fraser had always been the steady one: sure, confident, in control. Ray was, more or less, just walking energy: nervous, uncertain, quick-tempered. But it looked like, for now anyway, Ray would have to be in control and get Fraser through the next couple of days.

Ray felt Fraser stir next to him. Fraser turned onto his back and Ray snuggled against him again, his head on Fraser's shoulder. He heard Fraser whisper "Ray? Did you mean it when you said you love me?"

"Yeah, Fraser. I meant it" and he raised himself to give Fraser a kiss. He was not expecting the response he got. Fraser slipped his tongue into his mouth and probed deeply, almost as if searching for Ray's soul. He felt himself begin to respond and pulled back. "Damn, Fraser. Do not do that, at least not now. We only got an hour before we gotta be downtown. When we do this, I want it to be right. I don't want a quickie and that's all we got time for now"

"A quickie Ray?"

"Oh, hell, Frase, don't you Canadians know how to speak English? A quickie is when you do it real quick just to get it over with. I don't want it to be like that for us."

"Understood, Ray."

Ray fixed their coffee and got out cereal for breakfast while Fraser dressed. As he entered the small dining area, Ray drew in a sharp breath. Fraser looked so damn good in jeans and the long-sleeved blue T-shirt that he had grabbed at the Consulate. No wonder every woman in Chicago wanted him. And, at least it looked like, Ray had him.'Gotta get my mind outta the gutter' he thought. 'Got business to take care of.'

Hours later, they were finished. Lt. Welsh had taken Fraser's statement about the shooting. He had almost lost control when he described the boy's death. Welsh had been patient, waiting until Fraser had control before resuming. When Fraser was finished and he had signed the typed statement, Welsh gave him a copy.

"Is he going to be allright?" the Lt. asked Ray.

"I think so. He's just a little shook up over the whole thing."

Later, at the Canadian Consulate, Ray explained the situation to Inspector Thatcher again saying "Lt. Welsh made this copy of Fraser's statement. He thought maybe you could use it as Fraser's report, instead of makin' him go through the whole thing again."

Inspector Thatcher considered the Detective, then considered the man who was her second in command. He had been deeply affected by the incident. Thatcher, usually so hard, so distant, was not totally cold. Again she read Fraser's body language. It was obvious to her that he was deeply troubled by he the teenager's death. But there was something else, something not quite so obvious, something she couldn't read. "I think this will be sufficient, Detective. Thank you. I will give him the rest of the week off." Then she shifted to her usual demeanor. "He has too much leave time accumulated as it is, and if he doesn't take some time, he'll have to receive overtime for it. That will be all. You are both dismissed." There was definitely something else there, but what?

Again, the drive back to Ray's apartment was quiet. Once inside he suggested that Fraser lie down for a while. When he looked into the bedroom, Fraser was asleep. The emotional exhaustion of the last several hours having taken it's tole. He watched as Fraser shifted position in his sleep and couldn't help but notice that the man was totally naked. Putting all rational thought aside, he undressed and eased himself gently next to the man whom he hoped would soon become his lover, and fell asleep.

When Ray woke again, he was in Fraser's arms, his head cradled on Fraser's shoulder. He softly ran his hand over the other shoulder and down his arm. Fraser stirred slightly. Ray decided that this would be a good opportunity to just look at the Mountie. His features were relaxed. The lines of emotional paid gone from his face, he looked peaceful. Ray slowly lifted the covers and let his gaze trail down Fraser's body. His eyes roamed from the pale, pink, flat nipples - lower. Until he sighted Faser's soft cock, nestled in a patch of dark curls, sleeping. Ray reluctantly lowered the cover and put his head back on Fraser's shoulder, sighing deeply.

He was almost embarrassed when he heard Fraser's low chuckle, followed by "Do I pass inspection, Ray?" He had no chance to answer for Fraser pulled him in for a deep kiss. He flipped Ray onto his back. His tongue slid into Ray's mouth. Ray was caught off guard. This was Fraser? So reserved, distant. And then Ray remembered the vulnerable, exposed Benton Fraser of earlier. Fraser was touching him all over, reaching, grasping. Suddenly Ray was hit by a thought.

"Frase? This isn't your first time is it?"

"No, Ray" the sex husky voice murmured.

Ray froze, afraid his heart would stop. Was it Vecchio? 'Fuck' he thought. 'Am I just a replacement for him here, too? Just who the fuck is Fraser makin' love to?' "Tell me, Fraser? Who is he?"

"Now, Ray?"

"Yeah, now."

Fraser leaned back against the pillow and took a deep breath. "It was a long time ago, Ray. He was an Irish novelist doing research in the Territories for a book he was writing. He hired me as his guide. I was 18, he was 38. It only took a week for him to seduce me. He was so beautiful - tall, well built, dark auburn hair, and emerald eyes. I was more than willing. We were together three months. Then he left. I thought he would ask me to go with him. And he let me believe it until the day before he left. That was when he told me that he was in a long term relationship with someone else. I was just someone he needed around for the sex. It hurt because I was in love with him. No one should be in love at 18, Ray. It's far too painful."

"Ever hear from him again, Frase?"

"No. His plane crashed, no survivors. You know, Ray, everyone I have ever loved has left me."

Ray sensed the pain. "I'll never leave you, Fraser, never."

He was pulled into Fraser's embrace. "I love you, Ray."

Fraser pulled him in closer, kissing him again, the kiss building in intensity until Ray couldn't think, couldn't breathe. "Make love to me Fraser."

He felt Fraser's body shudder. Soft lips kissed his. He opened his mouth and Fraser entered, his tongue caressing, exploring. Heat ran through Ray's body as Fraser's tongue slid along his own. The kiss deepened in passion. Now Fraser's tongue was thrusting in and out, eliciting a moan from the back of Ray's throat. Fraser's hands were moving across his body, searching for sensitive spots, memorizing them. Ray felt a sense of loss as Fraser's lips left his. Then Fraser's mouth followed the paths his hands had made, kissing Ray's body in those oh, so sensitive places. He kissed Ray's nipples, running his tongue across them, gently at first. Then sucking, nipping, his hands still moving, finding more places where he could give Ray pleasure. Ray's entire body was responding. He moved, his back arching as Fraser's hand touched his cock and began a slow movement up and down. As Ray's pre-cum started to leak, Fraser gently took the head in his mouth, beginning a gentle sucking.

"Tell me what you want, Ray. How do you want me to make love to you? What do you want me to do?" Fraser was kissing his mouth again. Ray found the subtle taste of himself in those kisses. "Tell me, Ray. Tell me" the voice whispered in his ear Fraser's thumb was tracing an invisible pattern along Ray's jaw. He pulled Ray closer, so that their bodies touched. He pressed his own hard erection against Ray. They moved against each other until their cocks touched and Fraser began a slow, sensuous rocking of their bodies. "Tell me, Ray."

Ray had almost lost all coherent thought in the onslaught of Fraser's foreplay. He had to force his mind to think, force his mouth to work, force his voice to say "Fuck me, Frase. I want you to fuck me."

Fraser rose quickly from the bed. 'Shit' Ray thought. 'I went too far. He's leaving.' But Fraser was soon back with him. Seeing the near panic in Ray's eyes, he whispered soothingly, "I only went to search your bathroom cabinet, Ray. All I could find was baby oil. You know, if we don't use some form of lubricant it can be terribly uncomfortable."

Fraser took Ray into his arms and started again, from the beginning, with passionate kisses and loving caresses. When both were sufficiently aroused, he turned Ray so that he was on his stomach. Placing his hands on Ray's waist, he lifted him onto his knees. He ran his hands along Ray's thighs, stroking him. Then he took the bottle of baby oil and generously coated himself before gently inserting an oil covered finger into Ray. He waited until Ray relaxed before inserting another and started stroking, probing for Ray's prostate.

"Ray," he whispered, "are you ready?"

"Oh, yeah, Frase. I'm ready."

Holding Ray's cheeks apart, Fraser positioned himself, then entered Ray's body. He stopped, letting Ray adjust to the feeling. Sensing that Ray was relaxed enough, he began a slow pumping in and out. Laying himself across Ray's back, he kissed what parts of Ray his lips could touch. His movements increased in tempo. He reached around Ray's body and took the now throbbing cock into his hand and began pumping it in time with his own thrusting. Ray was almost panting, moaning, reciting a litany of "Oh, God" over and over again. Fraser lost himself in the pleasure. His thrusts became harder, faster until he could feel his climax building. His balls tightened and he felt himself cum. Ray reacted and shot his semen out and onto the bed as Fraser's own juices filled Ray.

Laying back down, Fraser pulled Ray into his arms and held him until their heartbeats and breathing slowed. Kissing Ray ever so gently he asked "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, Frase. A little sore, maybe."

"Ray, I am so sorry. I didn't intend to hurt you. I didn't realize that I had been so rough."

Ray snuggled closer and said "It's ok, Frase. I hear it always hurts a little the first time." "Ray! Are you telling me that you were a - "

"Yeah, Frase. You were the first. But I gotta say that I'm glad I didn't ask for a blow job."

"Why, Ray?"

" 'Cause, Fraser. You kinda got, ya know, intense there. If it'd been a blow job I might not have a dick left."

Fraser laughed, drawing Ray closer. "Oh no, Ray. I promise you, I'll always take very good care of that. I love you, Ray, more than you could imagine."

Ray whispered back "Love ya just the same, Frase." As he felt himself drifting into sleep, his last conscious thought was 'He loves me. This is more than I ever dreamed of.'