[He watches the reactions, watches as Fraser recoils ever so slightly but then recovers with a lick. The flinch doesn't concern Ray, not for such an unsubstantial cut and not when Fraser's grabbing for his wrist to keep him there. The lick is something to observe, the brief puzzlement and then realisation strangely amusing for Ray to witness, feeling like he can see every little cog turning in Fraser's head trying to pinpoint the taste. Fraser's tasted a hell of a lot in his life, but Ray's not sure how often he's tasted himself in that sort of intimacy.

As he catches onto the movement, he shifts with Fraser, pushing himself up with a hand while Fraser aids with a tug up, making it easier on the both of them.]

Okay. Couch it is. Just uh... [He very briefly reaches for the drawer he'd seen his holster slip into, dragging it back out before jerking his head towards the more comfortable looking area.]

I dunno what cranks your chain, Fraser. I mean uh. You gotta tell me when it's not right.

[His focus stays on the couch for a second, thoughtful, before he turns his finger in the air, circular.] Maybe uh. Maybe on your stomach?