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Sampling the Local Cuisine

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Ray sighed contentedly and wiggled his toes, amazed at how good it felt to be completely warm. The sort of warm he'd nearly forgotten over the past month spent camping out in the Frozen North, looking for the Hand of Franklin. And speaking of warm…

He looked over at Fraser who was stripped down to his long-johns and lying on the bed, looking over a pamphlet from the Northwest Passage Historical Park. It'd been at least a month since he'd seen Fraser in this little clothing and his dick decided that it liked the view. A lot.

"Frase, you know what I could go for now?"

Fraser groaned. "Please, God, Ray, no more pizza."

Ray grinned and glanced over at the cooling remains of a half-dozen pizzas, scraps even Diefenbaker was too full to finish off. The staff of Gjoa Haven's Amundsen Hotel had been eager to accommodate two of the "heroes" of the Russian Sub Incident, and Ray had shamelessly indulged in one of his two favorite pleasures. Time now to indulge in the other.

He moved to sit on the bed next to Fraser. "Nah, I was thinking about eating something else."

Fraser nodded, setting aside the brochure. "A fine idea, Ray. Perhaps you'd like to sample some of the local dishes before we head to the Park…" Fraser's breath caught as Ray straddled his thighs.

"Nope, got all the local dishes I want right here and I'm gonna do more than sample."

He leaned down to nuzzle Fraser's neck, unerringly finding the spot that always made Fraser shiver. Fraser wrapped his arms around Ray, his hands sliding under the thin shirt to touch skin, even as he protested.

"But Franklin…"

"He's been out there this long; he can wait another day." Ray undid several buttons and licked warm flesh, relishing the taste. "But I'm not waiting another minute to see you naked."

From the speed with which Fraser stripped them both and tumbled Ray back into bed, he figured Fraser agreed.

Plenty of time for the reaching-out hand tomorrow.