[It's reassuring to see that even the most eloquent of Canadians can sometimes forget English just as badly as Ray does, Fraser clearly only managing single syllables since they both stepped into the apartment. He's not entirely surprised though, not when he already knows Fraser to be a man who fully throws himself into the task at hand, going at his current interest with such abandon that Ray's surprised the Canadian can even function with the amount of blood rushing every where but his brain.
Ray's struggling to think, but he knows enough to realise he can't help with this initial undressing with any kind of ease of carefulness. If Fraser wanted to keep his uniform in tact, he was going to have to go this bit alone, even though Ray still watches carefully, lingering like he wants to get involved just for the sake of having his hands all over his partner.
But he waits like a good boy, breathing heavily as he almost unconsciously slips out of his hoody and kicks off his boots lazily. God, who knew a Mountie uniform could be so hot? He kind of gets this whole uniform kink, he really does. No wonder Fraser has women throwing themselves at his feet.
By the time Fraser's raising to his feet, Ray's shuffling forward, meeting the Mountie half way and eyeing the partially peeled away uniform with a new interest. This was his. His to pick and unravel and explore at his own pace. Fraser was giving him that, giving himself to Ray.
You can have me.
As if Ray needed much further persuading, although this time he's a little slower on the uptake, staring with a curious sort of wonder as he carefully reaches forward for that open tunic, fingers curling into the white under shirt and tugging it upwards just enough to slip his hand underneath and lay the warmth of his hand against the flat stomach beneath. He huffs out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding as he finally steps forward to fully close the gap, leaning forward just enough to briefly brush his lips against Fraser's, soft and chaste.]
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Ray's struggling to think, but he knows enough to realise he can't help with this initial undressing with any kind of ease of carefulness. If Fraser wanted to keep his uniform in tact, he was going to have to go this bit alone, even though Ray still watches carefully, lingering like he wants to get involved just for the sake of having his hands all over his partner.
But he waits like a good boy, breathing heavily as he almost unconsciously slips out of his hoody and kicks off his boots lazily. God, who knew a Mountie uniform could be so hot? He kind of gets this whole uniform kink, he really does. No wonder Fraser has women throwing themselves at his feet.
By the time Fraser's raising to his feet, Ray's shuffling forward, meeting the Mountie half way and eyeing the partially peeled away uniform with a new interest. This was his. His to pick and unravel and explore at his own pace. Fraser was giving him that, giving himself to Ray.
You can have me.
As if Ray needed much further persuading, although this time he's a little slower on the uptake, staring with a curious sort of wonder as he carefully reaches forward for that open tunic, fingers curling into the white under shirt and tugging it upwards just enough to slip his hand underneath and lay the warmth of his hand against the flat stomach beneath. He huffs out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding as he finally steps forward to fully close the gap, leaning forward just enough to briefly brush his lips against Fraser's, soft and chaste.]
We really doin' this...?