[ Trying not to be in the way when Ray drags his clothes back on is harder than it looks. There's not much room on the couch, and with effectively one hand with limited rotary mobility, propping himself back against it is nearly impossible, particularly when you were Fraser's height. A moment later he drops back down with a huff, his chin against Ray's shoulder, looking down the length of his partner's body. The telltale top of his bruise still peeked above the waistband of Ray's jeans, and it was more than enough to make him smile.
Though, Fraser reflected, a bowl of warm water wouldn't go amiss. Actually... Actually, Ray didn't have a change of clothes at the Consulate like Fraser did, and the idea of him lending Ray his plaid jacket and jeans two sizes too big to go to work in was all but ludicrous. But so was the idea of him going to work in the state he was in. Maybe it was because he'd been the one responsible, but Ray looked and smelled like sex. There was something even more ruffled about his hair, which of course was oilier than usual, and askew at an odd angle from the position he'd slept in. The smell of sweat and come was so potent Fraser almost couldn't smell the diplomat's Pekinese that had slept on this couch three days previously. He doubted that he looked or smelled any better, and surely if they walked into the Chicago PD together everyone in the office would know. After all, none of them were Canadian; and they were police officers, they were supposed to know these things.
That was when it occurred to him to check the clock. ]
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Though, Fraser reflected, a bowl of warm water wouldn't go amiss. Actually... Actually, Ray didn't have a change of clothes at the Consulate like Fraser did, and the idea of him lending Ray his plaid jacket and jeans two sizes too big to go to work in was all but ludicrous. But so was the idea of him going to work in the state he was in. Maybe it was because he'd been the one responsible, but Ray looked and smelled like sex. There was something even more ruffled about his hair, which of course was oilier than usual, and askew at an odd angle from the position he'd slept in. The smell of sweat and come was so potent Fraser almost couldn't smell the diplomat's Pekinese that had slept on this couch three days previously. He doubted that he looked or smelled any better, and surely if they walked into the Chicago PD together everyone in the office would know. After all, none of them were Canadian; and they were police officers, they were supposed to know these things.
That was when it occurred to him to check the clock. ]
Ray. [ A different tone of voice now. ] The time.