(no subject)

[dira]

Last night I read some Ray/Ray, and squeed over it quite a lot, and then wrenched my brain straight back to F/K. This morning I wrote the following, so as you can see, results were... mixed.



Ray lay on his back, staring up at his bedroom ceiling. Fraser--Benton? Ben? After the things they'd been doing for the last week it seemed like he oughta be using his partner's first name, but they hadn't really stopped to talk about that or much of anything else--was lying beside him, and Ray got the feeling that he was staring at the ceiling, too. That made it easier, somehow, remembering that this was--Fraser, definitely Fraser, in uniform or out of it, in Ray's bed or across the desk, he was the same guy.

And he was the same guy now that he'd been a week ago, when they were running around the Henry Whateverthefuck. Fraser was the same guy he'd been before he kissed Ray and called it buddy breathing, and he was the same guy he'd been before Ray kissed him and called it love.

So if Ray just ignored what they'd been doing for the last week and thought about what Fraser was probably thinking--it was probably the same thing he was thinking, more or less. Not exactly--he didn't think they ever matched up exactly--but close enough to harmonize, and that was what being a duet was all about. Ray took a deep breath, settled his arms behind his head, and said, without looking over, "Fraser, this is insane."

Fraser blew out a long breath, like he'd been holding it for days, and said, "Well, Ray, I wouldn't characterize it in quite that way--our actions were a perfectly reasonable, even healthy, response to the renewal of our partnership and simultaneous discovery that we had... even more in common than we had previously supposed."

Ray smiled at the ceiling. "Yeah, but the fact that we both like to fuck guys really--it's not long term relationship material, Fraser, and we just almost broke up over--"

Ray frowned. He couldn't even remember...

"Over nothing," Fraser said, "Or as near to nothing as makes no difference."

"Except it's a nothing that's everything," Ray said, quickly, remembering rising water and truths and lies that he could almost, almost grasp. "You and me, it's--nothing and everything at the same time."

Fraser was quiet a while and then said, "Well put, Ray."

Ray smiled. "Thanks." He shifted in the bed, getting comfy, and finally glanced over at Fraser, who was looking at the door like he was listening for Dief. When he finished the bat-ears routine, Fraser looked up at him and smiled a little, and Ray smiled back. "It's not," he said, hesitantly, because he'd never done anything like this before, this was so much scarier than fucking for the first time, even though he was pretty sure this was going to go just fine, too. "I mean, I married the first girl I dated, Fraser, but I dated her for nine years first. For me, this is like--fucking on the first date, here."

Fraser kept smiling, but his eyes went away for a minute, seeing somebody else, something else a thousand miles away from Ray and this bed, and Ray realized all over again how insane this was and how he was never going to get inside that Mountie shell--it would be like cutting the guy's skin off and trying to climb inside, more kinds of wrong than he could count and he had just completely grossed himself out with that mental image when Fraser was looking at him again, smiling all--ruefully, that was the Fraser word for it. "I suppose in my case, it's actually quite standard to--"

"Fuck on the first date," Ray filled in, automatically, helpfully. They had this down to a science. Sure, Fraser could say the same thing, but it took so much longer.

Fraser nodded his thanks--would've tipped his hat if he was wearing it, Ray thought--and went on, "But only after having duly asked for my companion's hand in marriage before we even left."

Ray snickered, and he could see the answering laugh sparkling in Fraser's eyes. "Yeah, and taking the vows over dinner, I guess?"

Fraser blinked, and then nodded. "Breaking bread together is, as I'm sure you know, Ray, a very old and sacred ritual."

Ray shook his head, rolling his eyes. "But, I mean--it's not a time thing, you get that, right? I'm not saying it's necessarily a time thing. You and me, we broke bread lots of times, it's just--you do things that way, sometimes you get surprised."

Fraser let out another long breath, and Ray thought he'd been holding that one longer than a week, longer than a year. "Yes," he said, finally. "Well, Ray, to be honest, this counts as a pleasant surprise, in my experience."

Ray leaned up on one elbow, trying to look offended and not, he suspected, pulling it off very well. The big stupid flattered grin was probably giving him away. "Hey, if this is coming as that much of a relief to you, you coulda just taken the initiative."

Fraser smiled at him, that pretty Mountie smile that made Ray want to do all kinds of dirty things to him, and reached out, running one hand down Ray's chest. It would have been dirty pool, except Ray knew they both knew nothing was going to change anything. Neither of them even wanted to change anything. "I have been enjoying myself, Ray."

"Yeah," Ray said, watching Fraser's fingers, "Yeah, I been enjoying you too."

Fraser snorted at that, and took his hand back. "But, naturally, that's all over now," Fraser said, so prim and proper and naked and inviting that Ray didn't believe a word of it, not for a second.

"Well," Ray said, "If it wouldn't bother you to do stuff--strictly as guys who've got something in common, y'know, shared interest, purely recreational." Fraser was looking at him like this was possibly the dumbest question in the history of human language, and Ray skipped over feeling stupid in favor of feeling like he was about to get laid. Again. Minus the dramatics in the back of his brain, which would be nice. Still, he couldn't be quite that lucky, could he? "You don't mind that? Doing stuff just--buddies?"

Fraser smiled at him. "It may have escaped your notice, Ray, but I am actually not the Catholic in this bed. Whatever guilt I may have over the physical side of our relationship will not be mitigated by deluding myself that I am in love with you, or you with me. I've tried that, and I think it's better just to be--honest."

He looked away on that last word, mouth drawing up like he'd bitten a lemon, and Ray knew he ought to try to figure out what the hell had ever happened to Fraser to make him like this, but fuck that, that was long ago and far away, and they were here, now, at the end of a very strange week, and still partners and friends. Ray scooted in close and kissed that drawn-tight mouth, his hand on Fraser's face, thumb stroking the soft dry skin of his cheekbone until Fraser's mouth opened to his. Breaking away just far enough to breathe, Ray said, "That honest enough for you?"

Fraser looked into his eyes, searching for something, and Ray looked straight back. Ray was a cop, he'd questioned one or two honest people in fifteen years, and he'd bet Fraser had run into more than that. He'd know it when he saw it. "Yes," Fraser said, finally, leaning in to touch his mouth to Ray's, "Yes. That will do very well."



Though it probably goes without saying at this point, I'll just mention that this is very definitely All brooklinegirl's Fault. Entirely.