"You got us what?"
Fraser stamped the snow off of his boots and removed them, bending to place them neatly in the corner. When he rose, he was holding the videotape up from wherever he'd hidden it inside his coat.
"'Nanook of the North.' It's a classic, Ray."
Classic. Probably meant it was made before the dawn of time. Ray shook his head and went to piss. When he came back, Fraser was sitting on the couch with the remote in his hand; he hit the arcane combination of buttons that switched the remote to VCR, and then hit play.
Some kind of classical music swirled. A black screen appeared with words—not even moving words, like in Star Wars, but words holding still.
Ray scowled. "Fraser, is this a silent movie?"
"Of course, Ray. The advent of sound in motion pictures, the so-called 'talkies,' wasn't until—"
The kettle whistled just as Ray was saying "nevermind.". Fraser rose to make tea.
"You want me to pause it?" Ray called over his shoulder.
"No, thank you, Ray. I've seen it before."
"You've what? So why are we —"
Fraser clambered back over him onto the couch, somehow managing not to spill a drop of tea in the process. "I thought you might enjoy the chance to see a little of where I come from," he said. It sounded like he was holding something back, so Ray kept looking at him instead of at the screen. After a moment, Fraser finished his thought, quietly. "And I get a little homesick this time of year."
Okay, fair enough. Ray didn't get homesick, exactly, but it sounded like what Fraser meant by that was 'lonely.' Ray sure as fuck knew about that.
"So funny pants aren't just a Mountie thing, they're a Canadian thing."
"Well, actually, Ray, the construction is quite ingenious. Note how the fur is on the outside of the garments, trapping air and acting as an insulator, precisely as it does on the animals from which it came."
"Yeah, yeah." Ray tried to sound bored. Like he wasn't getting into the movie, purely on the strength of Fraser's enthusiasm.
He wasn't sure he'd ever heard Fraser this...bright before. Focused. It was doing things to his insides that he didn't really want to think about. At least not until Fraser went home and he had the place to himself.
"It's a window, did you see that?"
Fraser was smiling broadly. "A lovely trick, isn't it?"
"I thought he was chipping ice for water or something."
There was a pause.
"You ever built one of those?"
"Many times."
Dief gave a whine that sounded almost like a warning. Ray glanced over; Fraser's face had pinked slightly.
"Although I must confess, it usually took me at least an hour and a half."
"They sleep naked like that?"
"Of course." Fraser sounded like it was the most obvious thing ever.
"Didn't the guy just say they keep it below freezing in there so the, whatsit, igloo doesn't fall in?"
"The body produces more heat that way. And of course they have furs, and they're pressed quite close together for warmth. The last time I..."
Now there was an image Ray didn't actually need. Fraser, naked, huddled under a pile of furs, pressing against him. Naked. And hot. Ray shifted slightly, hoping Fraser wasn't paying any kind of attention to how snug the crotch of his pants had just become.
"...in any case, we survived. When we reached the station the following day, I was stunned to learn how cold the night had been."
"Yeah," Ray said, as though he'd been listening all along.
When the final credits appeared, Fraser took Dief outside. When he came back in, Ray was rewinding the tape.
"That was a lot better than I expected."
Fraser smiled. "Thank you, Ray." There was something not-quite right about the smile and his voice, though. They'd paled again already. The intensity was waning.
"Hey—you want to go back there sometime?" It was the first thing that came to Ray's mind, other than "Please, just this once, fuck me senseless," so he said it.
Fraser's eyes showed startlement. "You mean...home?"
"Yeah. Show me around. Lemme see how fast you can actually build an igloo."
Fraser moved back to the couch and sat back down, leaning forward slightly as he had through the whole film. "You want to go with me?"
Ray shrugged. "Why not? Be a different kind of vacation, that's for sure. Get some decent stories to tell."
A spark was kindling behind Fraser's eyes. Ray liked that. More than he probably ought to.
"Like my stories," Fraser said.
Ray nodded, relieved that he'd managed to keep himself from saying that now that he'd thought it over, he'd actually prefer the indecent stories, thank-you-kindly. Wham-bam-thank-you-kindly. He chuckled.
"What?"
"Just thinking."
Fraser kept looking at him, expectant.
"About staying in an igloo." There: that oughtta do it. Fraser'd come up with some kind of igloo story again and he'd be off the hook.
But no dice: Fraser was still looking at him, intently. Focused. The way he'd been focused on the movie.
Against all better judgement, Ray felt his dick getting hard.
"Would you stay with me in an igloo, Ray?"
He bit back the first few answers that came to mind, which were definitely not decent. "Where else would I stay—by myself? I'd die in a second out there."
Fraser continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Would you sleep under furs?"
There was no way to read that other than suggestive, was there? A prickle ran up Ray's spine. Oh, jesus.
He swallowed hard. "Yeah." It came out a little huskier than he'd intended.
He hadn't noticed Fraser moving, but Fraser was sitting closer now. Still looking at him the way Nanook had looked at the hole in the ice before spearing a seal. God: if this was flirting, Fraser-style, he might combust before they got anywhere.
Time to cut to the chase. Fraser wouldn't be sitting that close, with that look in his eye, if he didn't finally mean something, would he?
Ray screwed up his courage. "Would you keep me warm?"
And apparently that was the right question, because next thing Ray knew Fraser's big hand was cupping the back of his neck and Fraser's mouth was open against his.
Hot damn. Three seconds of kissing and Ray wasn't sure he'd ever been so hard in his life. And the best part was—if there could be anything better than Fraser plastered all over him, grinding none-too-gently against him—Fraser was hard, too. Insistent. Pushing against him.
He pushed back, and they toppled sideways off the couch and onto the floor. Ray was so excited his hair was probably standing on end.
Fraser pulled away and bit at his neck. Ray shuddered. "There are—many ways—to keep warm," Fraser murmured just below his ear, working a hand under Ray's shirt to skate fingernails along his back. Ray jerked helplessly in his arms, rewarded by Fraser doing it again.
Warm. Oh, god. Suddenly Ray knew exactly what he wanted to do to Fraser. He wanted to unzip his pants and lick his cock like a melting ice cream cone. He pushed, ineffectively, because Fraser seemed determined to stay on top of him, rubbing their bodies together.
"Hey, move," Ray tried. Fraser leaned in and kissed him again. "Mmm. God. No, no, move—I want to suck you —"
And apparently that was the right thing to say, too, or the wrong one, because Fraser stiffened and clutched him, tight, almost convulsively. Fraser's face flushed.
And wasn't that the hottest thing ever: just the thought of his mouth had made Fraser come, right there.
"Or maybe next time, yeah?"
Fraser blinked, then shimmied down Ray's body, yanking Ray's jeans and briefs down his hips. The zipper yanked at his leg hair almost painfully, not that Ray cared, because Fraser had taken him into his mouth.
Ray closed his eyes and banged his head back against the floor. God damn. So hot. So fucking, fucking hot. And then he had to open his eyes, because he couldn't stand not watching. So he propped himself up on one elbow, and looked down—and the sight of Fraser's head at his crotch, the unbelievable things Fraser was doing with his mouth and tongue, did him in.
Some moments later he felt Fraser move from where he'd been resting, head pillowed on Ray's thighs. Ray opened one eye to see Fraser standing over him, dressed but disheveled.
"Stay?"
Fraser smiled: none of the wan, shuttered look he'd worn before. This smile was embers. It was banked heat.
Ray grinned. "I mean, I don't have furs, but —"
"The bed will more than suffice." He offered Ray a hand.
Wincing a little at where his bones had pressed into the floor, Ray stood. "Bed might even be more comfortable."
"Than furs?"
"Than the floor." He considered pulling his pants up, but decided to kick them off instead.
"Indeed."
They turned off lights and were shucking clothes in the dark bedroom when Fraser added, "If your heat should have a tendency to fail, I've barely scratched the surface."
Ray thought of his back and shoulderblades, of Fraser's blunt fingernails, and couldn't help grinning. "Of me?"
"Of ways to keep warm." Fraser's voice sounded silky.
"You got that right," Ray said. Turned to find Fraser almost on top of him. They kissed for a while, slow this time. Slow and still hot.
As he fell asleep, it occurred to Ray that even with a trip to the Arctic in his future, he might never be cold again.
The End