It's All In The Wrist By Aristide

January, 2000

Disclaimers: Not mine. I'm allmessed up about it, thank you for asking.

Notes: I got tired of slogging myslow way through a dark, angsty piece, so this is my littlerebellion. Enormous thanks to Bone and Crysothemis for phenomenalbeta support and kindness!

Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski

Rating: NC-17 for language, m/m sexand mild kink.

Summary: Silliness and smut, in thatorder.

***************************************

Ray looked... very silly tied uplike that, face-down on the floor-- dust in his hair and his facebright red and a large, regal-looking calico cat curled up on theseat of his pants, right below the knotted 'X' of his crossedwrists. Very silly indeed.

Of course, it wouldn't do to say so.Fraser knew that. The temptation, however, was extreme.

"About time you got here,Fraser," Ray sputtered angrily-- which was quite unfair,considering that he'd had no idea where Ray was in the firstplace. It probably wouldn't do to mention *that* either.

"My apologies, Ray; I came asquickly as I could. Tracking you presented a few unanticipateddifficulties for me-- in fact, if you hadn't stepped in thatpuddle of coolant back at the mechanic's shop, I doubt I wouldhave been able to locate you at all. Dief seems to be having yetanother in a series of off days."

The wolf huffed at him to let himknow that his remarks carried about as much weight as an emptydog dish, and then nosed up to Ray to investigate the cat. Fraserwas entirely aware that he should be doing something-- openinghis knife to slice through Ray's bonds, shooing Dief off the cat,shooing the cat off of Ray-- but the situation was so bizarrelyappealing and unique that for the moment he just watched, doinghis very best to stave off a smile.

"Dief--" Ray had twistedhis head over his own shoulder in a way that looked quiteuncomfortable, "do me a favor, buddy, willya? Bite that cat.Bite him good, okay? He... he... the little bastard has clawslike *razors*--"

Dief didn't seem to be inclined tobite the cat, and the cat, for the cat's part, didn't seem to beinclined to use the aforementioned claws on Dief. As Fraserwatched the cat stood and stretched, kneading a little at Ray'sbuttocks (which produced a most undignified sort of noise out ofRay), then butted its head against Dief's nose as if asking to bepetted. In truth the entire scenario was charming, but Fraserdoubted that Ray would agree with that assessment-- he was stillmaking noises, with the occasional 'bite the damn cat' sort ofgrowl thrown in every once in a while.

Ray continued making noises-- soundsof disbelief when Dief circled to sniff and lick at the cat'shindquarters, amplifying to sounds of absolute outrage when Diefnoticed his whining and promptly transferred his attentionsdirectly from the nether parts of the cat to Ray's face.

"I'm gonna *kill* this damndog, Fraser! Uck! Guh-- God! Fraser! You and this buttlickingwolf and the cat-- you're all *dead*, you hear me? All of you--"

Fraser stepped forward resolutely.After all, a partner in distress was a partner in distress,regardless of whether or not it was a hugely entertainingdistress. He nudged Dief away, then pried the cat off of Ray'sbottom in a brisk, no-nonsense manner that produced one finalabrupt keening noise and then a quiet sigh of relief, and openedhis knife. He leaned forward to inspect the knots in the cord Rayhad been secured with-- a tasseled, smooth length that appearedto have originally been a... curtain tieback.

A glance up at the tapestry-hungwindow above him confirmed it. A curtain tieback. An interestingand tasteful criminal, they were dealing with. "I mustadmit, Ray, when you failed to meet me at our appointed time, andFrancesca informed me that you hadn't checked in for the lastfour hours, I became concerned-- I understood that you wereintending to gather information on Mr. Mullins from his friendsand associates?--"

"I *did*, Fraser, that's what Idid. I went to the garage, and the pool hall, and the-- get thisgoddamn rope off me, willya? I gotta sneeze-- and I kept hearing'girlfriend', so I tracked down the girlfriend-- damn dusty downhere-- and that Buddinger guy at the bar had her address 'causeshe used to work for him-- God, my nose itches-- so I came hereand I asked her some questions... Fraser, I gotta... my bladder'sready to bust, here... so she got the drop on me and then shetied me up and left me to get my ass pierced by her damn...damn... AHH-CHOOO!!"

"Gesundheit," Fraserremarked mildly, leaning back in with the knife.

"Hurry it up, Fraser. I almostpissed all over myself... I shouldn'ta taken her up on thatcoffee..."

One twisted cord left. "She 'got the drop on you', Ray? She must have been...formidable." One last delicate slide of the blade, and Ray'swrists were free. "There. Done."

"Thank God." Ray's armsflopped down to his sides, but he didn't display any immediateintent to raise himself up off the floor. "Ow. Pins andneedles. Damn."

A flick and click, and the knife wasback in his pocket. "Would you like some assistance,Ray?"

One moist, blue eye blinked at himwrathfully. "Gee, no, Fraser. I really like laying here andhaving to piss like a racehorse with a huge wad of cat hair up mynose. That's, like, my idea of a kick-ass time. I'm ready toparty hearty."

Fraser let out a little of the grinthat wanted so badly to be set free. "You Americanscelebrate the strangest things."

"I'm gonna celebrate kickingyou in the head if you don't get me up off this damn floor--whoa!"

He had, perhaps, used a little toomuch strength in lifting Ray up onto his feet. No matter. He heldRay steady until he stopped swaying.

Ray sniffled and shook his head,sending a galaxy of dust motes and cat fur into the golden,late-afternoon light that slanted in through the window."Dizzy."

"Orthostatic hypotension."

A watery blink. "Gesundheityourself, Fraser."

"Indeed. So, I believe you weregoing to tell me exactly how it was that you wereoverpowered?"

Ray grimaced. "No, I wasn't.She just... she was... you know, you said it, forma... uh,formidable."

Fraser looked over Ray's shoulder toa framed and mounted photograph on the wall, a photograph whichshowed the current suspect in their case, Mr. Mullins, with hisarms around a petite young woman with wide, innocent brown eyesand a gentle smile. "I see. Is that her?"

Ray swiveled, looked, and thenturned back, wearing his customary head-kicking expression."She's stronger than she looks."

"I see..." Fraserrepeated, and then quickly pressed his lips together. The effortrequired to refrain from outright laughter was becoming painful.

Ray scowled at him, then began aslow, shuffling walk towards a dim hallway and (presumably), thebathroom. Fraser didn't know about the extent of Ray's urgency,but, for himself, the door clicked shut just in time.

***

Fraser still found it fascinating,the way Ray's moods expressed themselves through the way hedrove. As if he were somehow obliged to be completely honest withhis vehicle, no matter what prevarications or pretexts happenedto be coming out of his mouth at the time. Fraser shook hishead-- a fantastic, nearly romantic notion. But perhaps it wasnecessary to allow those every once in awhile. The human mindcannot live by the Regulation Handbook alone, and all that.

"So... you're quite sure you'reall right, then, Ray?"

Ray pressed the gas pedal with avigor that suggested that perhaps he was envisioning Fraser'shead under it. "I said I'm *fine*, Fraser. I'm good. You'regoing as deaf as that wolf of yours."

Fraser put one hand on the dash ofthe GTO in deference to the corner that Ray was turning withperhaps greater dispatch than good sense. "So, you're not atall upset about being overpowered and restrained by--"

"Will you just shut *up*,Fraser? Jeez-- look, she was *fast*, okay? She was fast and shewas good with knots. Musta been-- it took you long enough to sawthrough 'em."

Ah. Transference of blame. Afascinating process. Also somewhat... tempting. He cleared histhroat. "Actually, there was nothing uncommon about the knotyou were secured with, Ray. I worked carefully to free you onlybecause the edge on my knife is quite keen. The knot itself wasastonishingly simple. I'm sure with a greater allowance of timeyou would have been able to work yourself free--"

His peripheral vision caught theweight of a dire blue glare. "You mean more time than it'dtake *you*; that's what you're saying, right? That what you'regetting at?"

Fraser blinked, and looked away fromthe road for a moment to meet Ray's eyes with equanimity. "Imade no such comparison, Ray. Although, I must admit, I havelearned from extensive experience that it's possible tosignificantly accelerate the process, if one is properlymotivated to free oneself. All it takes is commitment, control,and a certain quantity of perspiration."

Ray smiled, so widely that Fraserimmediately wondered what he'd done wrong.

"You have no idea how kinkythat sounds, do you, Fraser?"

"I..." 'beg your pardon'would have been the rest of that sentence, but to say that wouldrun the risk of Ray possibly repeating himself. Fraser swallowed.

Ray didn't seem to notice that hehadn't actually responded to the question. Ray just winked athim. "Kinky Mountie. Boots shoulda tipped me off, Iguess."

Fraser looked resolutely back at theroad, considered for a moment whether or not taking umbrage aboutdisrespecting the uniform would get him anywhere, anddeterminedly said nothing.

But he couldn't help but notice thatRay's driving had improved considerably.

And that he himself had somehowmanaged to unconsciously twist his hat brim hopelessly out oftrue.

***

He should have known that Raywouldn't deem it a suitable revenge to have simply made him blushand mangle his hat. This, he knew, was the price he paid for thedepth of Ray's friendship: when Ray had the upper hand, Raydidn't hesitate at all to make him as miserable as possible. Itwas, in a strange way, Ray's method of expressing... affection.

He supposed he should be touched.And perhaps he would be, if he weren't so excessively annoyed.

"That was an extremelyunderhanded trick, Ray," Fraser chided, strugglingsurreptitiously with the cord around his wrists, which seemed tohave been-- unfortunately-- looped through the back of his chair.

Ray just smirked at him. "Well,what do you expect from a guy who can't even protect himself fromsome small-timer's chippie? I gotta be good at*something*--"

Fraser hoped his expressionreflected the full extent of his stern disapproval. "You'regood at many things, Ray-- you're a fine officer and a good man.Which is why you should abandon this charade at once and unbindmy hands-- I fail to see what sort of point you're trying to makehere, and really, such deviousness as this is... beneathyou." He rotated his wrists, left, then right, then both,but the cord was slippery, and he couldn't create sufficientresistance to get a good grip on the knot.

Ray persisted with the irritatingsmirk. "Oh, no way, Fraser. You can't butter your way out ofthis one. And you can save the guilt-trip for Dief-- I got you*good*."

Fraser was saved from the necessityof a reply by a knock at Ray's door-- undoubtedly the pizzathey'd ordered. He could only be grateful that the deliveryperson wouldn't have a clear line of sight to where he was--goodness only knows what kind of conjectures might have beendrawn, and here he was, still in full uniform. He used the timewhile Ray paid for the pizza to take stock of his situation-- Rayhadn't taken that long to secure him, so surely the knot must befairly simple and straightforward, surely there must be... mustbe...

Nothing. Not an ounce of give.Embarrassment, chagrin, outrage-- whatever it was that was makinghis muscles tighten, he seemed to be losing his grip on it.Unacceptable. He stopped struggling at once, and took a few deep,slow breaths. Control. This was all about control.

"Jeez," Ray's voice wasrich with good humor, "you still tied up there, Fraser? Ithought for sure you'd be free by now-- what was it? Commitment,control, perspiration-- which one's giving you hell? Should Imaybe turn the heat up?"

Portrait of smiling cruelty,carrying pizza-box, Fraser thought randomly. He shook his head."That won't be necessary. While I am entirely capable ofvoluntary perspiration, I must admit that I'd hoped to getanother day or two of wear out of this particular uniform--"

"Bummer for you, then, Fraser.Helluva good deal for your dry-cleaner, though." Stillsmiling. Still cruel. Still carrying the pizza-box.

Fraser pressed his lips together.Enough. Enough of this, while he still had a hold on his temper."I believe that I've gotten the point, Ray. Untie me now,please."

He watched Ray put the pizzacarefully down on the coffee table, but before relief could setin he caught a gleam in Ray's eyes. An unsettling gleam. "IfI've got this right, Fraser old buddy, you don't need me to untieyou-- you just need to get motivated to untie *yourself*, right?Now, let's see..." Ray glanced around his apartmentreflectively, "what've I got around here that's good formotivating?"

"You're being insufferable,Ray."

Another gleam. "Does that meanyou're suffering?"

"Would you untie me if I saidyes?"

Ray appeared to think it over."Uh... no."

"Then it hardly matters how I answer then, does it?"

"Sounds logical."

Fraser sighed. "Are youenjoying yourself, Ray?"

Ray smiled. "See? You *are*kinky. Told'ja."

Heat, prickling him all over,exquisitely uncomfortable. "I am not."

Ray took a step closer, his smilesubtler now. "No? Well then how come your face is brightred?"

Fraser sat up as straight as hisbound wrists would allow. "Perhaps I'm simply making myselfsweat so that I can free myself from this... indignity."

"Indignity..." Rayrepeated the word as if he were tasting it. "D'you feelundignified, Fraser?"

"I feel..." 'Hot' was theword that came to him first, but that would do little to servehim in these circumstances. "Ridiculous."

"You don't lookridiculous." Ray took another step toward him, close enoughnow that Fraser had to stretch his neck back to meet his eyes."You look... hot."

Oh dear. Something in Ray's tonesuggested that he wasn't referring to the ambient temperature. Hedidn't know what to say to that.

As it turned out he didn't have to,because Ray wasn't finished yet. Fraser saw one pale hand glidingtoward him, and then there was the lightest brush against hisforehead, against his hairline-- outrageously sensitive, and hehad to suppress a shiver. "Your hair's all messy. Never seenyour hair messy before."

The angle at which his arms werepulled back seemed suddenly painfully acute, his chest stretchedtoo tightly over his thudding heart. "I assure you, Ray,every morning when I wake up my hair is quite messy."

Ray's hand seemed to be getting to know his hair-- a gentle, tentative exploration that reallyshouldn't have been overwhelming, except that his scalp refusedto back down from anything other than hypersensitivity, and eachsoft, ambiguous caress raised gooseflesh over his entire bodythat made him want to squirm.

"I could... um... do this upfor you," Ray said conversationally, his voice lower, thicker, almost hypnotic. "Spike you up-- you can be theworld's only punk Mountie, Fraser; pretty cool. And I could teachyou to spit before you say 'thank you kindly', and--"

It occurred to Fraser, as perhaps itshould have earlier, that this was most likely not actually abouthis hair. This was about... something else entirely; he knew thatnow. And perhaps he should have been more genuinely surprisedthan he actually was, but right at this moment all that seemed tomatter was finding out if *Ray* knew, and if Ray knew that Fraserknew, and if Ray knew that Fraser knew that Ray knew, and exactlywhat Ray was going to *do* about all these known things.

"Ray. Ray... Ray?"

"Yeah, Fraser." Far away,Ray seemed so far away for being so... so very close.

Fraser cleared his throat. "Ijust feel the need to point out that when one man ties anotherman up, makes innuendo-laden remarks, and then offershairdressing advice, there are certain conclusions which seemrather... compelling."

A different Ray smile, warm andamused and not at all what he'd expected after hurling thatparticular gauntlet. Fraser felt a sudden and unexpectedly strongflash of alarm-- apparently, more things were known than he'd expected. "Compelling. I like that. That's good. That's like'compulsion', right? I mean, it's like, got the same base orsomething--"

Hot. Hot. Itchy. Hot. He'd plannedon a rational discourse, but Ray was close and smiling at him andnot taking exception to even the most blatant provocations, soRay must... that meant Ray had some kind of plan, and that wasmaybe something that he should be paying attention to except hecouldn't because he was itchy and hot and buzzing and somethingin his body was going out of control... but his lips movedanyway. "Root word, Ray."

Ray met his eyes then. "Rootword, Fraser."

Fraser blinked, a liquid moment wheneven his eyes felt sensitive in their sockets. "Compulsion?Compel."

"Compulsion," Ray said softly, as if in disagreement. He licked his lips and Frasertwitched. "I'm having one. I'm having one of those."

"Oh--" Oh my, oh dear, ohgoodness, oh no-- whatever it was, he never got to finish it. Raysank to his knees with such fluid and elegant grace that itseemed to loosen Fraser's own bones. Fraser felt sudden,surprising flexibility in his hips that made it a logicalcountermove, the next step of the dance, to spread wide and slidedown to the padded edge of the chair, making a space between hisknees where Ray fit neatly, where Fraser could-- didn't! But*could*-- squeeze.

If he wanted to.

"You having any compulsions,Fraser?"

A simple enough question. An impossible question. "Nuhhh..." Wordless. He had nowords for this. Apparently his brain had been heat-damaged.Stricken animal-dumb. Nothing left of him but grunts and hungers.

Panic at that-- not right, not safe,not acceptable at all-- and he tensed up, stiffened, but Ray'ssudden grip on his biceps burned straight to his skin as if therewas no clothing between them, slender bands of heat. "It'sokay, Fraser-- you're tied up, remember? I've got you. I've *got*you."

While his conscious mind puzzledover why in the world Ray would offer that as a form ofreassurance, his body-- which knew, knew perfectly well-- slippedfaster than he would have believed possible back into that lax,liquid state. Tied up. Indeed. He remembered the fruitlessness ofhis earlier struggles, and suddenly the muscles in his forearmsbunched-- not pulling, not twisting, just... *feeling*. Bothwrists caught. Solid.

And that had been... irritating,hadn't it? He thought for sure, he could have *sworn* that he'dbeen annoyed, perhaps confused, certainly displeased, only now hedidn't seem to be displeased at all. Should be. But wasn't. Nowhe was just... right where Ray apparently wanted him, and maybe--perhaps-- right where he needed to be.

That thought seemed to produce thelast necessary spark of some strange connection: his head driftedback, he heard a distant gasp that *had* to be his own, and heclosed his eyes on an intense awareness of every inch-- knees,thighs, chest, groin, throat-- that felt so exposed. Everythingvulnerable, everything waiting.

Waiting for Ray.

He didn't have to wait long. Ray'shands moved from his biceps up to his shoulders and down to hischest, a leisurely trip that was nevertheless more than longenough for the shakes to set in. Fear flared with something else,something darker, and he twisted his wrists again-- tied, bound,fastened there. Slippery now. Through the rush of his ownheartbeat in his ears he could hear Ray, a quiet and nearlycontinual murmur of Fraser, Fraser, mmmFraser,hot-beautiful-Fraser-gimme-mmm-yeah-- hoarse and delighteddarkvoiced lust, and he would have been compelled (compulsion,again) to move away except he couldn't... couldn't move, couldn'tdodge, couldn't stave off this touch, or that one, or that otherone that made sweat spring out in the creases of his groin andmade something bright and terrible spiral up from inside.

Slow and heavy movement at hiswaist, clothing and bone and muscle relaxing into looseness,laxness-- nothing hurried, and nothing abrupt, and yet nothingelaborate beyond the basic necessities of his tunic pushed upwhile everything else was... tugged down. Pragmatic Ray, ofcourse, of course... Cool air on hot skin, and Ray's hands feltsatin-smooth although he knew they weren't, and he had to admitthat this was an unexpected surprise, this deliberate,*appreciative* stroking. Not that he'd thought it would beotherwise. Not that he'd thought about it. At all. Fear again,and Fraser pulled at his wrists-- solid. Still solid. Still tiedup. He sighed.

"...gonna suck you, been*dying* to suck you... Fuckin' *beautiful* Mountie cock, Fraser,I knew it, I knew that--"

And mercifully, all that was cut offas Ray's mouth was obstructed and his own opened up, athroat-tight cry that brought his head snapping up, that had him*wrenching* at his wrists again because he had to, because Raywas a straightforward sort and didn't waste time on preliminariesbut simply opened wide and got down to the business of... of*sucking*...

Ray. Sucking. He shouldn't havelooked. Actually seeing it was much more than he was ready for,something that overrode whatever controls he'd placed on his ownsurrendered body and made him thrust *up*, push *in*, pulsing ina staggeringly fast rhythm against the silky-rough slide of Ray'stongue. Wet-mouthed Ray, greedy for it, a connection between themboth complex and simple enough to stun him to sudden silenceexcept for the panting. Taking and taken, and which was he,again? Oh right, he was...

...the tied-up one. He tugged. Andthat somehow freed him to groan again.

Ray's eyes were closed. Devotion.His hand, wrapped where it was, looked pale in comparison, hislips redder than... Sweet. So oddly, deeply sweet, overwhelming,really. Certainly enough to overwhelm *him*, because his heartwas thundering along at an alarming rate and the push-pull ofhips and wrists and the creaking chair threatened to shakeeverything apart, and what in the world would he do then?

What would Ray do?

It seemed incomprehensible that Raywould do anything other than what he was doing right now: pushingFraser past his own limits, getting the both of them where theyneeded to be, doing what was needed. Sucking him. Nuzzling, agentle tilt of the head and soft grunts of desire that expressedsuch tenderness that Fraser's breath caught on what soundedalmost like a sob. Ray would open. Ray *was* open. Sucking himlike he'd never, ever stop.

Cycle on a knife's edge-- in and outof Ray's hot mouth, over and over until it was too, *too* goodand then back to his wrists, twisting, numb now but aching--everything was aching. As it went on he spent more and more timeon his wrists-- just a few seconds, now, just a slide or two overRay's slick, devoted tongue was enough to pull him right up tothe terrifying edge of something he couldn't look at, couldn'teven think about.

"Ray..."

Shocking, to speak in somethingother than native grunts. The air felt cold against his wet lips,but everything else was so hot, shaking and hot and tense andtight and deep and the more it went on the more he fought it,struggling against a point of no return for so many reasons...

Ray swallowed around him, sighed,and shivered. Fraser shivered.

He knew he had reasons...

Ray's tongue flicked at him likesome kind of sensual lightning, and really, for a man whosometimes stumbled with words it seemed only fair that fleshshould flow for him so smoothly.

All kinds of reasons...

Ray's face, tense and tender, takinghim in, and Fraser thought the sight of it just might kill himsoon if he didn't find a way to stop it.

Very good reasons... very good. Verygood. Very... ahh...

Slipping now, slipping on the chair,slipping deeper between Ray's sweet lips, slipping and *tingling*like subcutaneous fire because his hands were-- suddenly--slipping free, right after that one final second where he mighthave been able to stop. Terrifying freedom, terrible blissfulnumb shaking useless power-- power constrained to move in onlyone direction. Ray *moaned* when Fraser clutched his head, moanedand jerked and swallowed hard, then Fraser pulled and Ray gaveway and Fraser *heaved* in the chair like he'd just taken a straybullet-- only he was the one that was shooting, crying out someincomprehensible string of useless pleading pleasure at absoluteextremity, throbbing out each exquisite wet pumping contractionuntil... until he *couldn't* anymore... until there was nothingleft in him but sluggish waves of glutted, wanton luxury and asoft, possessive growl that was no less disturbing for all thatit was quiet.

Ray didn't seem to mind, or evennotice. His heavy head rested in Fraser's naked lap like somecosseted pet, the silk and scratch of stubble against his thighsomehow both irritating and sensual at the same time.

"Ray..." not easy, not atall easy to speak right now, but Ray's eyes were closed and hisbreathing had become so slow and regular that Fraser thoughtperhaps he'd fallen asleep.

But apparently not-- a slightfrown-line appeared on Ray's forehead. "Shh, Fraser. This isthe afterglow part-- the part where everything's right with the world until it wears off. If you start yappin' I'm gonna forget all about how happy I am right now, and start paying attention to the fact that I just came in my pants and it's kinda uncomfortable."

Residual sparks and skirls of lazy pleasure twitched in Fraser's limbs, and he found himself blushing yet again. He watched Ray lick his lips slowly, shivered, and let one hand stroke over the energetic texture of Ray's hair. He could wait.

Despite the request for silence, Ray reached up and grabbed Fraser's hand, tugging on it until he was able to press a soft kiss on the chafed skin at Fraser's wrist. "Knew you could do it."

Fraser couldn't tell whether Ray was sleepily pleased or sleepily vexed. Perhaps, in Ray, they amounted to the same thing. "With the proper... motivation, yes, apparently so."

Ray opened his eyes and blinked at him once, then closed them again and snuggled down in his lap more firmly, gilt-touched eyelashes glimmering in the lamplight. "Motivation my ass, Fraser. Admit it, you'd never pass up a chance to show me up. Never."

Fraser smiled. Felt his heart warm and expand in his chest, beating easily now. "Never, Ray."

*** End. Feedback welcome at: mtriste@hotmail.com