Push me pull me cover
Beautiful cover made by Nicci [www][LJ]
Push Me, Pull Me

PAIRING: Fraser/Kowalski
 
RATING: mature
 
SUMMARY: It's a cliché. Undercover at a gay bar, making out in public for the sake of an assignment. Plot makes a minor appearance, I'm sorry about that.
 
NOTES: Done for Audaxfemina as a belated birthday. She wanted BadFraser in leather pants *g*
 
THANKS TO: Nicci_mac for audiencing. To Slidellra and Magnes for the beta.

Chicago, 27th precinct, Saturday morning 5AM

Ray avoided looking across the room. Why? It wouldn't be safe. No, no, no. After the night's little undercover job, he wouldn't dare look his partner in the eye.

As always the situation they'd gotten themselves into wasn't exactly your average ordinary cop thing. Sure, it had started out normally enough, then it'd pretty much gone downhill from there.

Their case? Drug deal going down at the Blue Bane Bar down by the docks. Not a trendy place. Ray'd been there before, he knew it for what it was; a meat market extraordinaire. Which was one reason why he'd stalled at the thought of having Fraser along.

The second reason was less easy to explain. It was a meat market for guys and someone like Fraser would be snatched up and dragged off the moment he even looked through the door.

Ray didn't want to think why that specifically put him on edge. Sure, his partner was a looker, but Ray had long since found his zen, explained to himself that lusting after one's partner was a big no-no.

He'd never felt all that comfortable, letting Fraser know that he swung both ways. Not that Fraser would judge him, or that he'd go around thinking 'Ray wants me', but it would change things for Ray.

He was a good undercover cop, but he'd never been good at lying to Fraser. He'd never have been capable of keeping it a secret. That he liked liked Fraser.

Not that it mattered anymore. The horse was out of the sack, no use in trying to close the barn door after the cat had run off... Ray scrunched his eyes shut and sighed. The other way around. Christ, he needed sleep.

Chicago, Blue Bane Bar, Friday night 11PM

Ray shook his head. Man, he hated this. And all because his partner was as stubborn as a fucking mule.

Across the small table, looking as out of place as a flaming queen in a Catholic church, sat Fraser. It wasn't the threads. Oh no, because Fraser had insisted he needed clothing to fit into the scene. Wires wouldn't work in here because of the noise level, and not every cop could fit into a gay bar.

So they'd dressed for the occasion. A meaner part of Ray, which he now hated like nothing else, had suggested leather for Fraser. Topped off with a tight white t-shirt that shone eerily in the light from the UV lamps overhead. Fuck, Ray hated himself and his fucking 'brilliant' ideas right now.

At least he'd dragged Fraser out to get a pair of leather pants. He just knew that if anyone heard that Fraser needed a pair, there'd be no end to the queue of people who'd wanna lend him some. And help him get into them. And out.

Ray had left the dressing to Fraser himself, because he knew damned well he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself either. Nope, he had no self control when it came to such a scenario.

Everyone was sending them odd looks and Ray knew what was going through everyone's heads. And he wasn't referring to anyone's upper heads. Seemed the only thing that kept them at bay was Ray's glares and the fact that Fraser radiated 'stay the fuck away'... and it didn't even have the air of politeness that was Fraser's usual trademark.

At any other time, Ray would be thankful that no one was getting near them. Unfortunately it made their task even harder.

Time for a little improvisation.

Ray got to his feet and didn't miss the panicked look in Fraser's eyes. No, he wasn't leaving him. Taking his drink, Ray slid around the table and sat down next to Fraser on the couch.

Leaning in he whispered, lips close to Fraser's ear. "Go with flow, Frase. You're fucking up this mission with your stick-up-the-ass attitude."

Fraser's body got, if possible, even stiffer. Leaning back a little, he gave Ray a look that said more than any words ever could.

'Bingo,' Ray thought. He knew just how much pride Fraser had and he knew exactly where to poke it. Question the man's ability to do his job and a different side of the stubborn Mountie peeked out. Actually, Ray figured it was more a Fraser thing than a Mountie thing.

Ray slid a hand across Fraser's abdomen and down the side, rubbing a finger back and forth along the top of Fraser's leather pants. He would never admit it to anyone, but the black, supple leather turned him on like nothing else. Especially knowing that beneath it was skin... Fraser's...

"Ray?" Fraser voice was somewhere between outraged and something else that Ray couldn't put into words.

Ray nuzzled against the side of Fraser's neck, feeling the heat from the skin against his own. Go with the flow, he'd told Fraser. Question was if it was wise for Ray to do so. Yet, it didn't seem as if Fraser was objecting. On the contrary, Fraser was running his hand up and down the arm Ray had slung across his front.

A groan escaped Ray as Fraser leaned his head back, exposing his neck to Ray. For a moment Ray was lost, then his eyes focused behind Fraser, where another sofa section was filling up.

Some of the guys were openly watching him and Fraser. At least it wasn't because Fraser stood out. Well, it was, just not the same way as before.

Envy. They were fucking envious of him. Of Stanley Raymond Kowalski, aka Vecchio. Ray licked a strip from Fraser's collarbone to his ear, just to make a point. Fraser's fingers dug into his arm, while the other hand landed on Ray's thigh, squeezing just as hard.

Ray's eyes slid closed for a moment. If he wasn't careful he was going to come in his pants like some hormone-high teen. Forcing his eyes back up, Ray groaned.

Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuckity-fuck-fuck.

That was the guy. The one they were suspecting was behind it all. Ray resigned himself to an evening of blue balls, because he couldn't let himself go with the flow, even if he had Benton Fraser, RCMP right here, ready and willing.

The job. Their job. Get the bad guy and keep safe.

Fraser's hand slid up to cover Ray's crotch, squeezing his cock through the tight jeans Ray was wearing.

Ray went cockeyed for a moment, screwing up every inch of determination. "Frase... no," he gasped.

The warm body leaning against him went back to its default position. Stiff as a fucking board.

"No, no, no," Ray whispered desperately when Fraser moved to push him away. "They're right behind us, the guy, the guy... the... the bad guy."

It seemed to take a moment for Fraser to get with the picture, but at least he didn't pull away from Ray. Fraser turned his head to nuzzle against Ray's neck. "Are you sure?"

"It's him, all right," Ray said. "Though I can't quite make out what they're saying."

"I can," Fraser mumbled as he slid a hand up under Ray's shirt, shifting them a little. Maybe to get a better angle for eavesdropping, though Ray wasn't sure.

Could be he just wanted to grope Ray.

That was the start of half an hour of pure torture for Ray. He could feel people staring at them. He prayed no one would try to interrupt to suggest a threesome, because it'd screw up their little... stake-out.

It was that kind of place, so Ray knew it would be pure luck if everyone left them alone.

So all Ray had to do was make out with his pretty partner without coming in his pants or making Fraser lose it. Had to let the Mountie focus on listening.

It was probably the hardest thing Ray had ever done in his life. Here he was, in a dimly lit night club, surrounded by the smell of sex and want, with his nose buried in Fraser's neck, his hand flat against Fraser's tight abdomen under the t-shirt.

Ray lost his sense of time for a while. At the end of it his brain was breaking down from blood loss and his cock felt like it was going to either burst or fall off. They didn't kiss, and Ray knew actually getting off would be out of the question. Man, it really sucked, and not in a good way.

Fraser's hands were on him, under his shirt, on his thighs, but never where Ray really wanted them. And Ray knew better than to grab Fraser anywhere that might take them further, because Fraser needed to focus on their assignment.

The guys they were tagging got up to leave and although Ray didn't have the brain capacity at the moment to do what he was supposed to, it didn't seem as if Fraser had the same problem.

Fraser pulled Ray to his feet and headed for the exit, towing Ray along. Ray hadn't figured they'd be leaven before the suspects, but he figured no one would consider it suspicious. After all, there was no arguing what it looked like with Fraser, hot as hell, dragging Ray's sorry ass off.

'What the hell have I started?' Ray wondered. 'Think, think, think,' he yelled at himself. 'Procedure, think about what you're supposed to do! Get your fucking mind out of those leather pants.'

Said leather pants and their wearer hauled him aside outside and the blast of cool night air did wonders for Ray's ability to think.

Ray casually looked down the road, finding the car he was looking for. Stretching, he did a small wave. Nothing noticeable as such, but the headlights came on and the car pulled out into traffic.

The car pulled up right next to them. Ray leaned down to rest his elbows on the open window frame. "Got a smoke?" he asked, trying to act casually, even as Fraser put a hand on the small of his back and leaned down as well.

Huey flashed him a grin, his white teeth gleaming in the streetlights.

Dewey opened his mouth to say something, but Huey reached over, handing Ray his cigarettes and a matchbook. It would seem innocent enough from the outside. "They're leaving the bar in a moment," Ray mumbled as he took a cigarette and dumped the rest of the pack in Dewey's lap.

"We got enough on him?" Dewey asked sourly, dumping the cigarette pack on the dashboard.

Fraser leaned in real close to Ray. "We do," he said. "The actual deal will be executed on pier 21 tomorrow night at midnight."

"Little time to plan," Huey said with a sigh. "You guys alright on your own?"

Next to him Dewey snorted, opened his mouth again, then shut it, an odd look on his face. Not until afterwards did Ray realize that Dewey's eyes had been on Fraser's face, not his.

Ray nodded. "We're good." He stood up, lit the match and then the cigarette and threw the match down into the gutter. Ray shook his head for the benefit of anyone watching as he took a step back, ending up flush against Fraser's chest.

Thankfully the Duck brothers were off, the car pulling back into the night traffic.

For a moment Ray forgot to take a drag of his cigarette as Fraser's arm came around his waist, hand flat and possessive against Ray's belly.

"We gotta get back to the 2-7," Ray muttered, trying to fight the rush of blood going down again.

"Unfortunately, yes," Fraser agreed. At least he let go. Although Ray felt bereft as Fraser stepped back, he was kinda glad for the space. He needed to be able to drive, think, get back to the precinct.

Do his fucking job!

They walked to where they'd parked the GTO and they didn't say anything to each other during the drive.

Only, Ray could feel Fraser looking at him. In the dark of the car, he could feel Fraser's eyes burrowing into him, dissecting him.

Possibly mentally undressing him, but that might just be wishful thinking on Ray's behalf.

They pulled into the parking lot at the precinct at half past midnight and Ray just knew it was going to be a long night. He still refused to look at Fraser.

Fuck the fact that they hadn't talked about their little make-out session.

Fuck that Fraser's eyes had gone dark watching him.

Fuck that their partnership might be down the drain if he wasn't careful.

'Fuck me,' Ray thought to himself, grinning wryly.

The bullpen was almost deserted, but there was light in Welsh's office. Ray could feel Fraser's presence behind him all the while. As he knocked on Welsh's door and waited for a reply, he almost jumped as a warm hand slid down to cup his ass.

"I'm going home with you afterwards," Fraser muttered hotly in his ear.

Ray bit his lower lip and opened the door as Welsh bellowed 'come in'.

"How nice of you gentlemen to join us," Welsh said from behind his desk. He looked older, tired, sitting there in his chair, shirt sleeves rolled up, eyes slightly red-rimmed from the lack of sleep.

Huey was lounging on the couch while Dewey looked like he was halfway to sleep in one of the chairs.

"Lieu," Ray acknowledged.

"Lieutenant Welsh," Fraser greeted. He sounded so fucking normal and Ray had to fight himself to not turn around to study Fraser.

It just wouldn't be a good idea right now.

"I hear you got what we needed?" Welsh said.

Ray pointed over his shoulder at Fraser. "Yeah, Bat-ears here got it all."

"You didn't hear anything?" Welsh asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Um, bits and pieces," Ray admitted, trying not to think why he hadn't heard more than that. He'd been a little preoccupied. "There was a lot of idle chit-chat," Ray said with a shrug.

"We did however hear when they are going to conduct the sale and the exchange of the heroin," Fraser put in. "Pier 21 on Saturday... well, tonight at midnight, seeing as it is technically..."

"Understood, Constable," Welsh stopped him.

"Sir."

"We've got a ton of planning to do, and very little time to do so," Welsh said and Ray just knew what that meant.

No sleep in the foreseeable future. It also meant postponing the confrontation with Fraser...

Chicago, 27th precinct, Saturday morning 5.10AM

"You look like shit," Welsh said as he handed Ray a cup of black sludge that Ray figured was supposed to be coffee. "Why don't you go home, get some sleep, be rested for the bust tonight."

Ray rubbed his eyes. "I guess you're right," he admitted. He didn't look across the room at Fraser. He just couldn't.

"Take the Mountie with you," Welsh said with a yawn. "I want you back here at 4PM, ready for the bust." Turning around, Welsh eyed Fraser. "Do you need me to call Inspector Thatcher to make sure you're at Vecchio's side tonight?"

Ray finally looked at Fraser, who shook his head. "Inspector Thatcher does not expect me back on duty till Monday," Fraser said.

Welsh nodded. "Okay, good. Now get out of here and get some rest."

Ray yawned and got slowly to his feet. He looked down at the floor. He still couldn't meet Fraser's eyes. His eyes slid across the dusty floor to the black boots, to the black leather pants and he got a hold of his hormones as his eyes were beginning to stray above knee height.

A hand appeared in front of him. "You're tired, Ray," Fraser said in a low voice. Not the smoky one he'd used at the club. Not the usual reliable one. No, this was the one he only got out when he was a little worried about Ray.

Somehow that put the world back into place for Ray. He grinned and pulled the car key from his pocket. He dropped it into Fraser's hand and then made the mistake of looking up into Fraser's eyes.

Suddenly Ray knew how a deer caught in the headlights of a car felt. Or maybe it was more like a rabbit cornered by a fox.

"Fuck," Ray muttered under his breath as he got momentarily lost in the dark eyes. There was so little blue left that Ray could feel the tug of the large black pupils. Like huge black holes.

Fraser brushed past him, close enough to whisper in Ray's ear. "If you want to."

Ray stood rooted to the spot. Shit, did he have to go looking for a pod?

"Are you coming?" Fraser called innocently from the door.

'God willing, yes,' Ray thought as he managed to get his legs working again.

The drive to Ray's place should've been torture, but the moment Ray sat back in the seat, he nodded off. He wasn't quite asleep, but he wasn't awake either. It was a surreal state, because he could've sworn Fraser was having a heated, whispered conversation with someone in the backseat.

Ray frowned in his semi-sleep. Dief wasn't with them, he was at Turnbull's place, probably getting pampered by the crazy guy. So it wasn't him Fraser was arguing with. Ray kinda wished he was awake enough to pay attention, but sleep kept tugging him under.

"Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray." The familiar repetition of his name brought Ray back. Blinking sleepily he turned his head to the open car door.

"Hey, Frase," Ray mumbled, smiling goofily. Then he remembered.

The glint in Fraser's eyes told Ray that Fraser hadn't forgotten either.

Ray got stiffly out of the car. Damn, but he wasn't as young as he used to be. The horizon was slowly becoming lighter and as he stood there, watching it, he felt the warmth of Fraser's body against his back.

"Ray..."

Swallowing hard, Ray closed his eyes. "Yeah," he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. Then he turned and followed Fraser into his building, up the stairs and into his apartment.

This was his place. Still, it looked odd to him at six in the morning. He was used to seeing Fraser in the middle of his living room, but this was so different from normal.

The Fraser standing in the middle of the room no longer held himself as straight as the uniform normally forced him to. His dark hair was tousled, the white t-shirt had sweat spots under the arms and in the middle of the chest. The black leather pants were hugging the long legs that were normally hidden behind the jodhpurs.

The lips so quick to quirk up at Ray held an entirely different kind of smile right now. The wet lips were slightly parted and Ray could hear the heavier breathing.

It was like someone had turned his partner inside out. This was the other side of the coin that was Fraser. The darker side, the side that Ray knew he could never fight off. The one he could never hope to be able to say no to.

This was the side that wasn't oblivious, the side that wanted Ray.

It seemed that Fraser figured Ray had looked his fill, because a moment later Ray was pushed up against the closed door. Fraser's lips closed over his and Ray realized that they hadn't kissed at all till now.

And oh... Ray's brain seemed to be melting. Fraser's mouth was warm, wet and insistent. As insistent as his tongue. And his hands.

Ray's jeans were opened and peeled down over his hips before Ray even realized it and Fraser was trying to get the t-shirt off him as well. The garment was covering Ray's eyes for a moment, then there was a tearing sound and suddenly Ray was face to face with a panting Fraser, the torn t-shirt framing the view.

Ray would have laughed if not for the look in Fraser's eyes. One shift of his hips, and Ray shook with surprise and the rush of his release.

"Shiiiiit," Ray groaned. It didn't help that Fraser had the mother of all smug looks on his face.

Fraser growled under his breath, took Ray's mouth in a bruising kiss, pretty much tongue-fucking Ray's mouth as he guided Ray's hand down to cover the tight leather over his crotch.

So Ray had one hand covering Fraser's ass all of the sudden, the other cupping and squeezing rhythmically, feeling the heat and hardness of Fraser's erection. Man, what a night.

Fraser tore his mouth from Ray's, letting out a sound like Ray'd never heard before. He buried his face against Ray's shoulder, shook and groaned as he thrust against Ray's hand.

Suddenly Ray found himself supporting both their weight and even on a good day he couldn't hope to be able to do that for long. Slowly Ray slid down the door, taking Fraser's limp body with him.

"Christ, Frase," Ray muttered into the sweat matted hair.

Fraser didn't say anything, but at least he didn't pull away either.

The morning light filled the apartment, reflecting off the dust motes floating in the still air. Ray eventually managed to find enough strength to pull them both to their feet.

Yawning, barely awake, Ray steered Fraser toward the bedroom. He figured they'd brush their teeth when they got up, wash too. Right now he knew neither of them would be able to do so without falling asleep.

Somehow they managed to get undressed and get under the sheets. Ray sighed contentedly as Fraser sleepily pulled him in close. It felt so damned natural for them.

He'd actually worried that this would mess thing up. It still could, but so far it was more than he'd ever dared dream about.

Not that he didn't know they'd have to talk, eventually. Just... not right now. Now they should sleep, bask, rest...

Ray's brain kept humming along as he finally succumbed to sleep.

Chicago, Ray's bedroom, Saturday 1PM

Ray surfaced from his sleep nice and slow. He was feeling warm and cozy and there was a nice warm body next to his.

Opening his eyes, Ray found Fraser looking at him, face unreadable. At least at first. The almost shy smile that finally tugged at Fraser's lips had Ray smiling in return.

"Good afternoon, Ray," Fraser greeted him softly.

"It is, isn't it?" Ray answered with a grin.

Fraser raised an eyebrow.

"Good," Ray clarified.

Fraser's eyes drifted shut for a moment, the smile widening a little. "Yes."

Ray cheered quietly. "You're back to being you," he said, wincing at his choice of words. That hadn't been the way he'd wanted to say it. Thankfully Fraser was fluent in Ray-speak.

"I am normally more in control," Fraser admitted, a flush creeping up from his chest, coloring his neck.

"I know," Ray said. "For a little while there, I thought I'd have to look for a pod."

For a moment it looked like Fraser was going to go along the path of obliviousness, then Ray recognized the laughter in those blue eyes.

"It felt good not having to hold back," Fraser admitted, his cheeks flushing as red as his neck and upper chest.

"You don't have to hold back with me," Ray said softly. "I think it's kinda hot." He gave Fraser a small smile. "I'm honored you feel you can let go with me."

Fraser's face softened with its own smile. "I feel I should be sorry for losing control so spectacularly last night," he admitted.

"But you're not," Ray finished, reaching out to run his fingers through Fraser's hair. He slid his hand around to the back of Fraser's neck and pulled him in for a soft kiss. To hell with morning breath.

"Not at all," Fraser muttered against his mouth. The warm skin against Ray's, the hands touching him. It was all an echo of the rushed sex they'd had up against the door earlier. Only nicer, not so rushed.

Ray grinned as Fraser pushed him down against the mattress. The glint in those eyes was the same as well, and Ray figured they had plenty of time before they had to be back at the precinct.

"Looks like I got myself a bad Mountie," Ray said teasingly as Fraser went to town on him.

Yup, everyone figured Mounties were good and straight-laced guys. This one, however, while definitely good, was way less than straight.

The End