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Apr. 13th, 2007 04:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phineasjonesheading off to rehearsal again. will make a real update sometime... like maybe tomorrow.
for now, comment fic! for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pearl_o who is having a hard day. and asked What do you think is Fraser's favorite quality of Ray Kowalski? and also said, Relatedly, I like it when people make them smooch. so...
Ray looks from the scotch back to Fraser. "Ok. Right. What's so great about me, then?"
Fraser plays dumb, "What do you mean, Ray?"
Ray steps into Fraser's space, knowing he will stand his ground and loving the way it makes Fraser twitch to have anyone that close to his pretty Canadian face. "I mean, Fraser, you're telling me I don't need to drink. You're telling me everything in my life is just peachy-keen. I'm a fine, upstanding citizen and all that. So, what, specifically is so good about me? No," He pauses and squints at Fraser. "What do you like about me?" He pokes Fraser in the chest to emphasize the important part of the question.
Fraser's trying to read him. Trying to see what's behind the question. But Ray is standing so close, Fraser can't look him in the eyes without moving his own back and forth fast, like he's speed-reading. Which is probably something he does for fun.
He stops trying to look at Ray, dropping his eyes and sticking his tongue out to lick the corner of his mouth and oh, that is not fair. But Ray stays put, takes a deep breath and tries not to sway forward, not to follow Fraser's tongue back home.
"Ray, I--" Fraser starts and stops, drags his thumbnail across his eyebrow. Ray rolls his eyes, just a little, waits for - what next? - the ear tug or the collar pull. "I don't know quite--"
Ray feels himself deflate a little. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He turns to the counter and grabs his glass, but before he can lift it to his mouth, Fraser's hand covers his.
"Ray," he starts all over again, but this time he's standing right behind Ray, not looking in his face. And his voice is low and scratchy and right in Ray's ear, and Ray couldn't go anywhere right now if he wanted to. Which, for the record, he really doesn't. Not with Fraser's front up against his back and Fraser's arm and hand covering his, pouring out warmth like no radiator Ray has ever been able to afford.
"Ray, you--" Fraser clears his throat in a low rumble and Ray breathes in sharply through his nose, "You feel more than anyone I've ever known---" Ray scrunches his nose. What the hell does that even mean? "And you, you don't just-- you don't try not to feel. You let it guide you. You let your heart guide you, Ray. We can call it instinct, if you prefer, but-- It's an admirable thing, Ray. It's a beautiful thing. I admire it and I envy it. And. I love you for it."
Fraser takes his hand off Ray's and drops it to his side. Ray stands, frozen, barely able to breath. That was a lot to process right there. And Ray isn't so big with the processing. And wow, he just learned that Fraser actually likes that about him. No, loves that. Loves him. And he'll be damned if he isn't getting a loud and clear message from his instincts right this second.
He turns, bumping right into Fraser's chest and slipping his hands up around the back of Fraser's head, into his soft, soft hair. He looks down at Fraser's lips, right there, waiting. Fraser tilts his head a little and just barely whispers, yes, and Ray kisses him. Fraser's arms come up around his back and Ray is completely swallowed in that heat, his lips sliding wetly against Fraser's, his hands grasping Fraser's hair, his neck, his face.
It feels so damned good, Ray doesn't ever want to stop. If his instincts - his heart, his whatever - got him here, then he loves them too. Loves them a lot. And if he loves them, he better keep on listening to them. He pushes on Fraser a little, without taking his mouth or hands away, leading them in a soft shuffle away from the scotch on the counter and toward the door to his bedroom.
for now, comment fic! for
pearl_o who is having a hard day. and asked What do you think is Fraser's favorite quality of Ray Kowalski? and also said, Relatedly, I like it when people make them smooch. so...Ray looks from the scotch back to Fraser. "Ok. Right. What's so great about me, then?"
Fraser plays dumb, "What do you mean, Ray?"
Ray steps into Fraser's space, knowing he will stand his ground and loving the way it makes Fraser twitch to have anyone that close to his pretty Canadian face. "I mean, Fraser, you're telling me I don't need to drink. You're telling me everything in my life is just peachy-keen. I'm a fine, upstanding citizen and all that. So, what, specifically is so good about me? No," He pauses and squints at Fraser. "What do you like about me?" He pokes Fraser in the chest to emphasize the important part of the question.
Fraser's trying to read him. Trying to see what's behind the question. But Ray is standing so close, Fraser can't look him in the eyes without moving his own back and forth fast, like he's speed-reading. Which is probably something he does for fun.
He stops trying to look at Ray, dropping his eyes and sticking his tongue out to lick the corner of his mouth and oh, that is not fair. But Ray stays put, takes a deep breath and tries not to sway forward, not to follow Fraser's tongue back home.
"Ray, I--" Fraser starts and stops, drags his thumbnail across his eyebrow. Ray rolls his eyes, just a little, waits for - what next? - the ear tug or the collar pull. "I don't know quite--"
Ray feels himself deflate a little. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He turns to the counter and grabs his glass, but before he can lift it to his mouth, Fraser's hand covers his.
"Ray," he starts all over again, but this time he's standing right behind Ray, not looking in his face. And his voice is low and scratchy and right in Ray's ear, and Ray couldn't go anywhere right now if he wanted to. Which, for the record, he really doesn't. Not with Fraser's front up against his back and Fraser's arm and hand covering his, pouring out warmth like no radiator Ray has ever been able to afford.
"Ray, you--" Fraser clears his throat in a low rumble and Ray breathes in sharply through his nose, "You feel more than anyone I've ever known---" Ray scrunches his nose. What the hell does that even mean? "And you, you don't just-- you don't try not to feel. You let it guide you. You let your heart guide you, Ray. We can call it instinct, if you prefer, but-- It's an admirable thing, Ray. It's a beautiful thing. I admire it and I envy it. And. I love you for it."
Fraser takes his hand off Ray's and drops it to his side. Ray stands, frozen, barely able to breath. That was a lot to process right there. And Ray isn't so big with the processing. And wow, he just learned that Fraser actually likes that about him. No, loves that. Loves him. And he'll be damned if he isn't getting a loud and clear message from his instincts right this second.
He turns, bumping right into Fraser's chest and slipping his hands up around the back of Fraser's head, into his soft, soft hair. He looks down at Fraser's lips, right there, waiting. Fraser tilts his head a little and just barely whispers, yes, and Ray kisses him. Fraser's arms come up around his back and Ray is completely swallowed in that heat, his lips sliding wetly against Fraser's, his hands grasping Fraser's hair, his neck, his face.
It feels so damned good, Ray doesn't ever want to stop. If his instincts - his heart, his whatever - got him here, then he loves them too. Loves them a lot. And if he loves them, he better keep on listening to them. He pushes on Fraser a little, without taking his mouth or hands away, leading them in a soft shuffle away from the scotch on the counter and toward the door to his bedroom.
