The break room was nearly empty, the late hour of the night a testament to the unorthodox hours they had been keeping as of late, and Fraser could not find a spot where he did not feel Ray’s gaze on him. Ray, who had caught him staring, staring shamelessly, at Ray’s hands, Fraser’s thoughts as unclean as his face was surely red.
Ray’s thumb was caught between his teeth, the wide knuckle just visible over the barrier. It glistened a bit with Ray’s saliva, where his full lips had touched it. Fraser could not see it, but he could well imagine Ray’s tongue, sucking the sweetness clean off his finger, soft and pliable against the rougher skin.
Fraser swallowed, and looked away. He could feel his skin burning, getting hot under his collar. The silence of the room pounded in his ears.
The silence which Ray broke as his finger slipped out his mouth with a soft ‘pop’. Fraser rode the sound of it, clenching his teeth so as to not make any noise. Aware only of his heart beat and his boots, scuffed after a full day’s work, he only noticed Ray when he was barely a foot apart.
Fraser did not want to look up, he had given too much away already. His head whirled with ways in which he could escape this situation, talk both himself and Ray out of any ramifications.
He was frozen in place. Now, even if he wanted to look up, he could not. He closed his eyes and concentrated on not thinking. Impossible thought in itself.
Ray’s damp thumb against his cheek was such a shock, Fraser’s head snapped up against his will, and his eyes locked in with Ray’s.
He thought that he had forgotten what it felt like to have your stomach burn with fear. Ray’s gaze brought the feeling back full force. Fear and lust and tenderness swirled in his head, his hands, his toes, and when he finally exhaled, it was to give Ray the breath that he, himself, had been holding. He felt Ray’s fingers threading through his hair and realized that he no longer had to imagine how Ray’s hands would feel on his body, or Ray’s lips against his.