five things
Feb. 21st, 2007 10:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phineasjones-yesterday in post-tonal was the third class in a row of midterm presentations. i decided i didn't care and spent the class writing this. it is off the cuff and unbeta-ed. and way to the schmoop end of the schmoop-porn continuum. but it was fun to write something.
five times fraser didn't notice that ray was trying to seduce him.
1. Fraser starts forward when he sees the woman, her arms full of brown grocery bags, heading toward the closing glass door of the building. Before he can reach the door, Ray jogs across his path and grasps the handle, standing back to hold the door open and smiling widely at the woman.
"Oh! Thank you young man!" The woman exclaims as she bustles into the building.
"It's no trouble," Rays says through his smile, "You have a good day, now." With a small wave at the woman, Ray lets go of the door and turns to Fraser who suddenly realizes he has been standing stock-still and staring.
"Pitter patter," Rays says. He turns and struts down the sidewalk.
2. "You are so goddamned full of it, Frannie--" Ray's voice is getting steadily louder.
"Ray--" Fraser says warningly.
"It's ok, Fraser," Frannie shakes her hair out of her eyes and levels a cold glare at Ray, "Ray is just jealous. He wishes he had poetry in his soul like you do. You're a Renegade man--"
Renaissance, thinks Fraser. He bites his tongue.
"You," Frannie points her finger at Ray's chest, "probably never read a poem in your whole life." She crosses her arms over her ample bosom and raises her eyebrow in challenge at Ray.
Ray glowers at her and Fraser inhales deeply, preparing himself to diffuse the situation. But, suddenly, Ray starts speaking, quiet and quick, his words almost running together.
"One night came Winter noiselessly, and leaned against my window-pane. In the deep stillness of his heart convened the ghosts of all his slain. Leaves, and ephemera, and stars of earth,and fugitives of grass, --white spirits loosed from bonds of mortal birth, he drew them on the glass."*
Ray smirks at Frannie and leaves the break room before Fraser can even close his jaw.
3. "She's in psych evaluation," Ray answers, flipping through the file on his desk.
"Why?" Fraser thought Amy Keller had seemed perfectly reasonable, if sadly uninformed regarding the law as it applies to public indecency.
"When we had her in interrogation, she kept--" Ray gestures distractedly, "talking to someone who wasn't there or something."
Fraser feels his insides chill slightly. "Ah," he says, "I see." He glances down at the hat in his hands and when he looks up, Ray is watching him with wide eyes.
"I mean--" Ray starts, "that don't mean nothin'. Necessarily. We're just, you know, covering all the bases."
"Understood." Fraser smiles.
4. "We on for the game tonight?" Rays asks as Fraser gathers his coat and hat, preparing to return to the Consulate for the afternoon.
"Yes, Ray. I'm looking forward to it."
Ray has already turned toward the file cabinet when he stops short, turns, and calls, "Hey, Fraser!"
Fraser waits, eyebrows raised in inquiry, as Ray walks up close to him and says softly, "Thanks for you help this morning. You were right on about that guy's uncle. I'm--" he pauses and fidgets with the pencil behind his ear, "I'm glad you were there."
Fraser clears his throat. His uniform collar suddenly feels tight. Ray grins, cuffs him on the arm and heads back toward the files.
5. Fraser doesn't notice at first. Not until Ray says in a croaking voice, like it pains him to speak, "The Leafs are playing a pretty good game."
"Ray." His voice is emphatic now, as all the pieces slot together in his mind.
"What?" Ray looks timid as he turns away from the television, like a guilty child.
"What are you drinking?"
"Uh," Ray looks down at his mug. "Tea?"
"You haven't yelled at the television once. You hung up your coat when we came in. Ray, you just complimented the Toronto Maple Leafs."
Ray drops his mug to the coffee table with a loud thunk and slouches against the back of the couch. "What's your point, Fraser?"
"What are you doing, Ray?"
Ray's sounds exasperated when he sighs. He scrubs his hand over his face but then he sits up straight and looks Fraser in the eyes. "Fraser--"
"Ray."
"Do you wanna... Do you wanna go out with me?"
"Out?" Fraser is utterly confused. "Where?"
"Out!" Ray jumps up from the couch and begins to pace. "Out! Go out. Like, dating."
"Dating?" Fraser hears his own voice crack and squeak. He's knows Ray isn't joking because he knows Ray and this is not how he jokes. But what does tea and tidiness have to do with dating? Fraser frowns and then smiles as suddenly, everything makes perfect, beautiful, logical sense. He stands and steps into the path of Ray's pacing. "You've been courting me."
"Courting? Fraser, what the hell kind of word is that?"
"I'm correct, though, aren't I? The tea, the politeness, the poetry... that's what this has all been about."
Ray shrugs. Fraser takes it as an affirmative.
"Well, that's just silly."
Fraser knows right away that that was the wrong thing to say when Ray looks at him with hurt spelled across his features. Before he can explain, Ray starts pushing him away.
"Ok, fine. It was silly. Great. Good to know. Never mind, then, let's just watch the game. You sit down, I'm getting a beer--"
"Ray!" Fraser has to grab Ray's arm to keep him from running to the kitchen. "I only meant that it was silly that you thought you had to do all that. Any of it. I like tea. But I--" This was harder to say than Fraser had anticipated, "I want you. Beer-drinking, foul-mouthed you."
"Yeah?" Ray's arm is still in Fraser's grasp, but he isn't pulling away any longer. In fact, he seems drawn inward toward Fraser, his eyes, his lips tantalizingly close.
"Yeah," Fraser only has to whisper, Ray is so close now. He lets his eyes drop closed as Ray's lips touch his. When Ray's lips part, he tastes tea on Ray's tongue and he might have laughed, but Ray's hand is pressing into his lower back, making him moan lightly instead.
Ray pulls away and rests their foreheads together. "See?" he says, with a nip at Fraser's lower lip, "I knew it would work."
*the frosted pane by charles g.d. roberts
-and ok, while poking around looking for canadian poetry, i found robert service. hello? am i the last person to know about him? and his poem, the call of the wild? i had just assumed ds was referring to the book i read in middle school in those last eps, but the poem... damn. it is the show. as a sample,
They have cradled you in custom, they have primed you with their preaching,
They have soaked you in convention through and through;
They have put you in a showcase; you're a credit to their teaching --
But can't you hear the Wild? -- it's calling you.
Let us probe the silent places, let us seek what luck betide us;
Let us journey to a lonely land I know.
There's a whisper on the night-wind, there's a star agleam to guide us,
And the Wild is calling, calling. . .let us go.
-also, i want to write again. i'm tired of not writing. but i need both practice and help. i'll take care of the practice if you will handle the help. in the form of five things prompts. please? i would like five things prompts about any of the following: due south, wilby, hard core logo, hugh/callum, and remus. i can give no guarantee about follow-through, because i know myself. but i want to try. please to help?
five times fraser didn't notice that ray was trying to seduce him.
1. Fraser starts forward when he sees the woman, her arms full of brown grocery bags, heading toward the closing glass door of the building. Before he can reach the door, Ray jogs across his path and grasps the handle, standing back to hold the door open and smiling widely at the woman.
"Oh! Thank you young man!" The woman exclaims as she bustles into the building.
"It's no trouble," Rays says through his smile, "You have a good day, now." With a small wave at the woman, Ray lets go of the door and turns to Fraser who suddenly realizes he has been standing stock-still and staring.
"Pitter patter," Rays says. He turns and struts down the sidewalk.
2. "You are so goddamned full of it, Frannie--" Ray's voice is getting steadily louder.
"Ray--" Fraser says warningly.
"It's ok, Fraser," Frannie shakes her hair out of her eyes and levels a cold glare at Ray, "Ray is just jealous. He wishes he had poetry in his soul like you do. You're a Renegade man--"
Renaissance, thinks Fraser. He bites his tongue.
"You," Frannie points her finger at Ray's chest, "probably never read a poem in your whole life." She crosses her arms over her ample bosom and raises her eyebrow in challenge at Ray.
Ray glowers at her and Fraser inhales deeply, preparing himself to diffuse the situation. But, suddenly, Ray starts speaking, quiet and quick, his words almost running together.
"One night came Winter noiselessly, and leaned against my window-pane. In the deep stillness of his heart convened the ghosts of all his slain. Leaves, and ephemera, and stars of earth,and fugitives of grass, --white spirits loosed from bonds of mortal birth, he drew them on the glass."*
Ray smirks at Frannie and leaves the break room before Fraser can even close his jaw.
3. "She's in psych evaluation," Ray answers, flipping through the file on his desk.
"Why?" Fraser thought Amy Keller had seemed perfectly reasonable, if sadly uninformed regarding the law as it applies to public indecency.
"When we had her in interrogation, she kept--" Ray gestures distractedly, "talking to someone who wasn't there or something."
Fraser feels his insides chill slightly. "Ah," he says, "I see." He glances down at the hat in his hands and when he looks up, Ray is watching him with wide eyes.
"I mean--" Ray starts, "that don't mean nothin'. Necessarily. We're just, you know, covering all the bases."
"Understood." Fraser smiles.
4. "We on for the game tonight?" Rays asks as Fraser gathers his coat and hat, preparing to return to the Consulate for the afternoon.
"Yes, Ray. I'm looking forward to it."
Ray has already turned toward the file cabinet when he stops short, turns, and calls, "Hey, Fraser!"
Fraser waits, eyebrows raised in inquiry, as Ray walks up close to him and says softly, "Thanks for you help this morning. You were right on about that guy's uncle. I'm--" he pauses and fidgets with the pencil behind his ear, "I'm glad you were there."
Fraser clears his throat. His uniform collar suddenly feels tight. Ray grins, cuffs him on the arm and heads back toward the files.
5. Fraser doesn't notice at first. Not until Ray says in a croaking voice, like it pains him to speak, "The Leafs are playing a pretty good game."
"Ray." His voice is emphatic now, as all the pieces slot together in his mind.
"What?" Ray looks timid as he turns away from the television, like a guilty child.
"What are you drinking?"
"Uh," Ray looks down at his mug. "Tea?"
"You haven't yelled at the television once. You hung up your coat when we came in. Ray, you just complimented the Toronto Maple Leafs."
Ray drops his mug to the coffee table with a loud thunk and slouches against the back of the couch. "What's your point, Fraser?"
"What are you doing, Ray?"
Ray's sounds exasperated when he sighs. He scrubs his hand over his face but then he sits up straight and looks Fraser in the eyes. "Fraser--"
"Ray."
"Do you wanna... Do you wanna go out with me?"
"Out?" Fraser is utterly confused. "Where?"
"Out!" Ray jumps up from the couch and begins to pace. "Out! Go out. Like, dating."
"Dating?" Fraser hears his own voice crack and squeak. He's knows Ray isn't joking because he knows Ray and this is not how he jokes. But what does tea and tidiness have to do with dating? Fraser frowns and then smiles as suddenly, everything makes perfect, beautiful, logical sense. He stands and steps into the path of Ray's pacing. "You've been courting me."
"Courting? Fraser, what the hell kind of word is that?"
"I'm correct, though, aren't I? The tea, the politeness, the poetry... that's what this has all been about."
Ray shrugs. Fraser takes it as an affirmative.
"Well, that's just silly."
Fraser knows right away that that was the wrong thing to say when Ray looks at him with hurt spelled across his features. Before he can explain, Ray starts pushing him away.
"Ok, fine. It was silly. Great. Good to know. Never mind, then, let's just watch the game. You sit down, I'm getting a beer--"
"Ray!" Fraser has to grab Ray's arm to keep him from running to the kitchen. "I only meant that it was silly that you thought you had to do all that. Any of it. I like tea. But I--" This was harder to say than Fraser had anticipated, "I want you. Beer-drinking, foul-mouthed you."
"Yeah?" Ray's arm is still in Fraser's grasp, but he isn't pulling away any longer. In fact, he seems drawn inward toward Fraser, his eyes, his lips tantalizingly close.
"Yeah," Fraser only has to whisper, Ray is so close now. He lets his eyes drop closed as Ray's lips touch his. When Ray's lips part, he tastes tea on Ray's tongue and he might have laughed, but Ray's hand is pressing into his lower back, making him moan lightly instead.
Ray pulls away and rests their foreheads together. "See?" he says, with a nip at Fraser's lower lip, "I knew it would work."
*the frosted pane by charles g.d. roberts
-and ok, while poking around looking for canadian poetry, i found robert service. hello? am i the last person to know about him? and his poem, the call of the wild? i had just assumed ds was referring to the book i read in middle school in those last eps, but the poem... damn. it is the show. as a sample,
They have cradled you in custom, they have primed you with their preaching,
They have soaked you in convention through and through;
They have put you in a showcase; you're a credit to their teaching --
But can't you hear the Wild? -- it's calling you.
Let us probe the silent places, let us seek what luck betide us;
Let us journey to a lonely land I know.
There's a whisper on the night-wind, there's a star agleam to guide us,
And the Wild is calling, calling. . .let us go.
-also, i want to write again. i'm tired of not writing. but i need both practice and help. i'll take care of the practice if you will handle the help. in the form of five things prompts. please? i would like five things prompts about any of the following: due south, wilby, hard core logo, hugh/callum, and remus. i can give no guarantee about follow-through, because i know myself. but i want to try. please to help?
