Fic: A Morning Ritual
Title: A Morning Ritual
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: G really.
Wordcount: 1116
Summary: Set after ACAMABB where Fraser and Ray have another conversation about hair.
Notes: A tad sapppy, a tad silly. Thanks to lozenger8 for a lovely beta.
A Morning Ritual
There was a routine each morning that they’d fallen into shortly after Fraser had arrived in Chicago. Every morning Ray would come around at about seven in the morning and pick Fraser up. He’d drive them down the street to the coffee shop. Ray always drove them, even though Fraser did point out on a number of occasions that it was only a two minute walk.
There was always a parking bay out front. Ray often referred to it as his spot and it was true come rain or shine it would always be free for him.
What they ordered depended on the day. Pancakes were generally ordered on Mondays and Wednesdays, but never on Thursdays. Tuesdays they would always have bacon and eggs, sometimes served with a waffle.
They would always have a coffee and discuss the day ahead.
It was a few months into this routine that Fraser started to wonder if the breakfasts meant something more. Ray would often pay for the whole thing, waving away Fraser’s concerns about going half. To make it up to Ray, some days Fraser would pay the full amount, but he was sure it didn’t balance out.
It all changed after they found a baby in the backseat of the Riv.
Ray had mentioned he should change his hair, because it was reflecting on his life. This puzzled Fraser, but he hadn’t had a chance ask what that had all meant. It was two days later before they had the chance to breakfast together.
“Are you going to a barbers at all, Ray?”
“Nah,” Ray waved the question away.
“A few days ago you said something was wrong with your hair,” Fraser pointed out.
“Yeah, well, not now.”
“Not now?”
“Nope, my hair has a certain ‘Je ne sais quoi’,” Ray replied, turning his head as if to show it off.
“Ah.”
“You don’t think it does?”
“Oh no, Ray, I think it does, but two days ago you seemed dissatisfied with your bald spot.”
Ray grinned. “So I’ve got a bald spot. Thinning hair is a sign of virility.”
“Isn’t that an urban myth, Ray?”
“Are you saying you don’t think I’m virile?”
“Not at all, Ray, but I think it’s your ‘Je ne sais quoi’ that gives off that aura, rather than your erm… hair.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. In fact, Ray, it’s a very attractive ‘Je ne sais quoi’.”
Ray smiled. “Thank you, Benny.”
“I admit, Ray, since you mentioned my hair being a pelt, I’ve been wondering what sort.”
“It’s like... I don’t know, an otter pelt.”
“An otter pelt?”
“I’m from Chicago, Fraser, we don’t have a lot of fur bearing animals with pelts around here.”
“Why do you think it looks like an otter’s pelt, Ray?”
“Well it looks soft, you know, like fur.”
Fraser took a breath. “You can touch it if you’d like to find out how soft it is, Ray.”
“Are you sure?”
Fraser leaned his head forward in invitation. “It’s my hair, Ray, I’m happy for you to touch it.”
Ray brought his hand forward and, with a bit of reluctance, gently touched Fraser’s hair. Fraser stayed still as Ray grew more confident, running the strands between his fingers. He noted the different pressure Ray used, sometimes brushing against the scalp.
“It is soft. Nice…” Ray realised he was touching Fraser’s hair in public and pulled his hand away. Fraser bemoaned the loss, though he didn’t let this show.
“Sorry I messed your hair up,” Ray said.
Fraser touched his hair and caught a glimpse reflected in the coffee shop window. It seemed to be under less control than usual, bits sticking up all over.
“It’s all right, Ray.”
“You can borrow my comb,” Ray said, reaching it out his inner pocket and offering it to Fraser.
“I have been wondering, Ray, how soft is your hair?”
Ray leaned a little, just enough for Fraser to gently touch it, without being too obvious. As a result, Fraser was quick and thorough in his examination, but he took the opportunity to commit the details to memory; the softness, slickness, length.
“It’s nice, Ray, although you shouldn’t have to put so much hair product on it. Your hair has a fine texture.”
Fraser pulled his hands away as a waitress passed by.
“Yeah, so… erm… what are you ordering, Fraser?” Ray asked, picking up the menu and pretending to study it.
“Pancakes, Ray.”
“On a Thursday?”
“Yes, Ray.”
“We never have pancakes on a Thursday.”
“Well, I think this is a special date, don’t you agree, Ray.”
“A date?”
“Yes.”
“Aww come on, Fraser.”
Fraser put the menu and persisted. “Ray you’ve brought me to have breakfast here most mornings since I’ve come to Chicago and you rarely let me pay. Am I wrong in assuming this is a date?”
“Okay, it’s a date, it took this long to figure it out?”
“I figured it out yesterday, Ray.”
“When you said I was thinning?”
“You talked to me about your hair making a statement. And it does make a statement to me.”
Ray tipped his head slightly to show off his hair. “Yeah, what’s that?”
“You’re attractive, kind hearted and the type of person I’d like to… date.”
“You got all that from my hair?”
“Not just your hair, Ray. Although I confess I did want to touch it,” Fraser said, blushing.
“So why you didn’t you?”
“Ray, I never touch hair on a first date.”
“It wasn’t our first date. I mean when I was talking about my hair.”
“It was the first time I was aware it could be a date.”
“Do you want to touch it again?”
“I’d like that, Ray. Would you like to touch mine?”
“Oh yeah, Benny. I think we should go back to your apartment.”
“And touch each other’s hair?”
“Yeah.”
“Very good idea, Ray,” Fraser paused. “Can we do this every morning?”
“What breakfast then… hair touching?
“We could do the hair touching first.”
“Sure, Benny. Every morning?” Ray asked as if to be sure.
“Every morning.”
“I can do that.”
“I’m glad, Ray, I’m glad.”
The waitress appeared with a notepad. “You gentlemen ready to order?”
“Benny?”
“Yes, Ray.” He turned to the waitress. “We’d like two orders of pancakes, please, and two coffees?”
“Anything else?” the waitress asked as she noted it down.
“No, thank you kindly.”
The pancakes arrived and they seemed to share the odd glance over the table as they ate. Fraser noticed Ray was smiling. It added to his ‘Je ne sais quoi’. They ate of their breakfast in silence before going to Fraser’s apartment to add another aspect to their morning ritual.
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: G really.
Wordcount: 1116
Summary: Set after ACAMABB where Fraser and Ray have another conversation about hair.
Notes: A tad sapppy, a tad silly. Thanks to lozenger8 for a lovely beta.
A Morning Ritual
There was a routine each morning that they’d fallen into shortly after Fraser had arrived in Chicago. Every morning Ray would come around at about seven in the morning and pick Fraser up. He’d drive them down the street to the coffee shop. Ray always drove them, even though Fraser did point out on a number of occasions that it was only a two minute walk.
There was always a parking bay out front. Ray often referred to it as his spot and it was true come rain or shine it would always be free for him.
What they ordered depended on the day. Pancakes were generally ordered on Mondays and Wednesdays, but never on Thursdays. Tuesdays they would always have bacon and eggs, sometimes served with a waffle.
They would always have a coffee and discuss the day ahead.
It was a few months into this routine that Fraser started to wonder if the breakfasts meant something more. Ray would often pay for the whole thing, waving away Fraser’s concerns about going half. To make it up to Ray, some days Fraser would pay the full amount, but he was sure it didn’t balance out.
It all changed after they found a baby in the backseat of the Riv.
Ray had mentioned he should change his hair, because it was reflecting on his life. This puzzled Fraser, but he hadn’t had a chance ask what that had all meant. It was two days later before they had the chance to breakfast together.
“Are you going to a barbers at all, Ray?”
“Nah,” Ray waved the question away.
“A few days ago you said something was wrong with your hair,” Fraser pointed out.
“Yeah, well, not now.”
“Not now?”
“Nope, my hair has a certain ‘Je ne sais quoi’,” Ray replied, turning his head as if to show it off.
“Ah.”
“You don’t think it does?”
“Oh no, Ray, I think it does, but two days ago you seemed dissatisfied with your bald spot.”
Ray grinned. “So I’ve got a bald spot. Thinning hair is a sign of virility.”
“Isn’t that an urban myth, Ray?”
“Are you saying you don’t think I’m virile?”
“Not at all, Ray, but I think it’s your ‘Je ne sais quoi’ that gives off that aura, rather than your erm… hair.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. In fact, Ray, it’s a very attractive ‘Je ne sais quoi’.”
Ray smiled. “Thank you, Benny.”
“I admit, Ray, since you mentioned my hair being a pelt, I’ve been wondering what sort.”
“It’s like... I don’t know, an otter pelt.”
“An otter pelt?”
“I’m from Chicago, Fraser, we don’t have a lot of fur bearing animals with pelts around here.”
“Why do you think it looks like an otter’s pelt, Ray?”
“Well it looks soft, you know, like fur.”
Fraser took a breath. “You can touch it if you’d like to find out how soft it is, Ray.”
“Are you sure?”
Fraser leaned his head forward in invitation. “It’s my hair, Ray, I’m happy for you to touch it.”
Ray brought his hand forward and, with a bit of reluctance, gently touched Fraser’s hair. Fraser stayed still as Ray grew more confident, running the strands between his fingers. He noted the different pressure Ray used, sometimes brushing against the scalp.
“It is soft. Nice…” Ray realised he was touching Fraser’s hair in public and pulled his hand away. Fraser bemoaned the loss, though he didn’t let this show.
“Sorry I messed your hair up,” Ray said.
Fraser touched his hair and caught a glimpse reflected in the coffee shop window. It seemed to be under less control than usual, bits sticking up all over.
“It’s all right, Ray.”
“You can borrow my comb,” Ray said, reaching it out his inner pocket and offering it to Fraser.
“I have been wondering, Ray, how soft is your hair?”
Ray leaned a little, just enough for Fraser to gently touch it, without being too obvious. As a result, Fraser was quick and thorough in his examination, but he took the opportunity to commit the details to memory; the softness, slickness, length.
“It’s nice, Ray, although you shouldn’t have to put so much hair product on it. Your hair has a fine texture.”
Fraser pulled his hands away as a waitress passed by.
“Yeah, so… erm… what are you ordering, Fraser?” Ray asked, picking up the menu and pretending to study it.
“Pancakes, Ray.”
“On a Thursday?”
“Yes, Ray.”
“We never have pancakes on a Thursday.”
“Well, I think this is a special date, don’t you agree, Ray.”
“A date?”
“Yes.”
“Aww come on, Fraser.”
Fraser put the menu and persisted. “Ray you’ve brought me to have breakfast here most mornings since I’ve come to Chicago and you rarely let me pay. Am I wrong in assuming this is a date?”
“Okay, it’s a date, it took this long to figure it out?”
“I figured it out yesterday, Ray.”
“When you said I was thinning?”
“You talked to me about your hair making a statement. And it does make a statement to me.”
Ray tipped his head slightly to show off his hair. “Yeah, what’s that?”
“You’re attractive, kind hearted and the type of person I’d like to… date.”
“You got all that from my hair?”
“Not just your hair, Ray. Although I confess I did want to touch it,” Fraser said, blushing.
“So why you didn’t you?”
“Ray, I never touch hair on a first date.”
“It wasn’t our first date. I mean when I was talking about my hair.”
“It was the first time I was aware it could be a date.”
“Do you want to touch it again?”
“I’d like that, Ray. Would you like to touch mine?”
“Oh yeah, Benny. I think we should go back to your apartment.”
“And touch each other’s hair?”
“Yeah.”
“Very good idea, Ray,” Fraser paused. “Can we do this every morning?”
“What breakfast then… hair touching?
“We could do the hair touching first.”
“Sure, Benny. Every morning?” Ray asked as if to be sure.
“Every morning.”
“I can do that.”
“I’m glad, Ray, I’m glad.”
The waitress appeared with a notepad. “You gentlemen ready to order?”
“Benny?”
“Yes, Ray.” He turned to the waitress. “We’d like two orders of pancakes, please, and two coffees?”
“Anything else?” the waitress asked as she noted it down.
“No, thank you kindly.”
The pancakes arrived and they seemed to share the odd glance over the table as they ate. Fraser noticed Ray was smiling. It added to his ‘Je ne sais quoi’. They ate of their breakfast in silence before going to Fraser’s apartment to add another aspect to their morning ritual.