TEAM ROMANCE: backup fic, "At Last, of Course"
Title: At Last, of Course
Team: Romance
Author: umbrella_half
Prompt: "You're crossing a line there"
Pairing(s): Fraser/Kowalski
Length: 1700 words
Rating: R for language
Author’s note: Thanks go to slidellra and also the_antichris for beta-ing tips (i.e. making the whole thing vaguely readable, thank you so much!) This was previously posted in the Team Romance community under the user-name take-no-ko, but I have since changed my journal.
Summary: And at last, of course, they kiss. But at first, it wasn’t that easy.
And at last, of course, they kiss.
But at first, it wasn’t that easy. Easy enough, though. He and Ray both accepted that there was some sort of tension between them. They’d catch the other looking too long, the gaze a lingering a little too much on their face. There was the odd eyebrow rub, the occasional cough. The awkwardness on stakeouts, after the coffee had been drunk and the takeout had been eaten.
In the suffocating silence of the car, he imagined the North, going through the details carefully and methodically in his mind. He heard the creak of his boots in the snow, squinted against the bright reflected glare. He breathed the cold air and took in the feel of the land, the feel of home. It was familiar and comforting. He understood it.
He tried not to remember those things he didn’t. The warm fingers. The rough graze of stubble on Ray’s cheek at the end of the day. He put them out of his mind, trying not to think about the beer that had spilled onto Ray’s coffee table and almost stained the rug. Just the feel of the falling snow, the taste of the tea made around the campfire. Just that. Just the ice - cold, hard glaciers, even the little shards.
~
Ray had told him to get the beer from the fridge and he’d opened the freezer by mistake. The build-up of ice on the door and in the draws made it difficult to shut the door again, and he wondered how on earth Ray had managed to shut it in the first place.
“Your freezer looks like it could use defrosting, Ray,” He said.
“Beer’s in the fridge, Fraser, not the freezer.”
“Understood,” he’d replied. Normally he would’ve found a wooden spatula somewhere in the kitchen and chiselled away until it was suitably clean of excess ice, but instead just forced it closed and found the beer in the fridge - two bottles, next to each other.
Then he and Ray had sipped and talked, with Dief sleeping, curled up, in a corner. He told Ray Tsimshian legends, full of dark ravens and white snow. Ray told him about high school; fluorescent light and rainy days. They moved on to more and more obscure stories, and Ray was just relating how he’d narrowly escaped being skinned alive by the guy in the Chinese bakery when he was thirteen.
“So there I am, nearly shitting myself, when, BAM!” he said, bringing his hand down hard on the edge of the coffee table. He hissed, wincing in pain. “Shit. Ow.”
Fraser reached over and touched Ray’s index finger lightly with the tips of his.
“Are you alright?”
It took a second. Ray had warm fingers, he realised; the thought popping up, unbidden. He jerked his hand away, and his elbow collided with his still half-full beer bottle. It fell on its side with a resounding clunk and dribbled out foam and beer onto the polished wood.
“Oh,” said Ray, looking around for tissues.
“I - ah - sorry, Ray.” He mopped it up with a handkerchief, wiping off the table leg before the errant drip could finish its descent and stain the rug.
“No problem.” Ray stood up. When Fraser glanced, he had a slight frown, his eyes looking up to the ceiling. “…Hey, Fraser?” he said, walking to the kitchen. “Want some coffee?”
Fraser stood up and put the handkerchief back in his jeans pocket.
“Yes, thank you.”
He never did get to hear the end of that story.
~
“I defrosted my freezer.” Ray said. “Took forever.”
For the past half an hour he’d been fiddling with his seatbelt, twisting it and untwisting it while keeping his eyes on the building they were watching. Fraser had remained still. Nothing moved outside.
He frowned, considering how to properly respond.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. After you left, y’know. I figured I’d had too much coffee to sleep just then, and so, what the hell. My kitchen floor got soaked. Should’ve put down some newspaper.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Ray.” He tried to keep his tone breezy. It came out lame, shot-in-the-foot.
“Nah. My own fault.”
Then there was silence. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ray biting his lip, a frown on his face.
“We’ve really gotta stop this, Frase.”
Fraser’s stomach lurched. Damn. “Stop what, Ray?”
“We’ve be waltzing around this for ages. You know we have.”
“Around what?” he said quietly. His face was uncomfortably hot, and he felt a pang of relief that Ray couldn’t see in the darkness of the car. But he knew exactly what this was, the reality too uncomfortable, far too embarrassing to really contemplate.
“Listen…” Ray said. He sighed, sagging a little in his seat, his shoulders hunched up and tense.
“No, I… I’m sorry, Ray.” Ray mustn’t say it, Fraser thought. “I’ve been distracted lately. I’m sorry if I’ve been, ah… awkward around you.”
Ray nodded, still frowning a little.
“It won’t happen again.” He said, quickly. A lie, and they both knew it. But it plunged them back into the silence, which was, he’d realised, infinitely preferable to the talking. He took a breath. “But, you know, these things tend to take time, Ray.”
“What things?” Ray turned in his seat to look at him.
“Oh, you know…” There was an aching silence. “…defrosting one’s freezer.” He said.
~
Ray dropped him off in front of the consulate and Fraser thanked him, politely. It’d been a long night, and nothing had happened. He wanted to get up to his office, and sleep the dreamless sleep of the blameless. He knew he wouldn’t be so lucky.
Diefenbaker whined, and Fraser turned round.
“Hello, Dad.”
“You're crossing a line there, son.”
“I know.”
“He’s your partner.”
“I know.”
“If you’re sweet on the yank, son… things could get ugly.”
“I know, Dad. I know.” He hung his head, guilty in the shadow of his father’s gaze. Normally their conversations ran on long and slow, with a sort of glacial inevitability to them. But this time Fraser watched as his father nodded and walked off into the early morning.
~
Fraser fumbles for the phone in the dim room, blinking blurrily and colliding painfully with the arm of the desk chair.
“Hello?”
“Frase, it’s me.”
“Oh, Ray. Hello.”
“I’m outside now. Can you let me in?”
“Now?” His brain is still foggy. He wonders what time it is. “What time is it?
“It’s nearly six. C’mon, let me in. I’m freezing my ass off out here.”
“I’ll be down in a minute, Ray.”
He pulled on some jeans and a shirt, cracked open the blinds and went out into the hallway, as quietly as possible. The consulate at night was always a little odd, but in the early morning it seemed to have a sadly majestic quality to it. His bare feet made little noise on the thick carpet.
He unlocked the door.
“Hello, Ray.”
“Hey, Fraser.” Ray seemed sheepish, almost sad. Fraser was just confused. Fraser held the door open and Ray walked in, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them. “It’s cold out there,” he said.
“Ray… Is something wrong?” Fraser said. He knew that something was wrong, lots of things were wrong. Ray nodded, began to walk towards Fraser’s room.
The click of the door as Fraser shut it behind him sounded final and loud in the early morning quiet. He leaned back against the painted wood, palms against the wood.
“We need to talk.” Ray said.
“Yes.”
“Fraser…” Ray shuffled his feet, sighed in frustration. Fraser swallowed. “Fraser, we’re buddies, right? Partners?”
Fraser nodded.
“And we can’t go on with all this shuffling, all this dancing round everything.”
“I…” Fraser began. “No, I suppose we can’t, Ray.”
“So instead of making me feel like I’ve gotta tread on fucking eggshells around you, why don’t you cut me some slack, Fraser?” Ray sagged, sitting on the edge of the desk.
“I’m sorry, Ray,” he began again, then paused. There was a long, cold silence. “What do you want me to say?”
Ray rolled his eyes.
“Just tell me what’s up.”
“Up?” Fraser repeated the last syllable, unthinking, his heart beating faster. “Ray, I… you’re my partner, Ray. My friend.” He frowned and looked down. “I didn’t really think that that could change. And now, well Ray…”
He looked up. Ray was looking at him. He had dark rings under his eyes, stubble on his face. His jaw was locked, tense and hard.
“I’m sorry, Ray.” He couldn’t say it, not in the end. Ray frowned, stood up and walked over to him.
“Fraser.” Ray said, and took Fraser’s hand in his own. He had warm fingers. Dry palms. Rough knuckles. Ray’s thumb stroked across his wrist. “This what you’re sorry about?” He looked at Fraser, cocking an eyebrow.
“I… suppose so.” Fraser said, and swallowed. It won’t work. It won’t because it can’t.
“Shouldn’t be.” Ray replied, shaking his head, gently.
He kissed Fraser.
Fraser’s eyes widened. Chapped lips met his own, and Ray’s grip on his hand tightened, just slightly. It was gentle. Half scared, half thrilled, he tried to kiss back, and not to laugh in Ray’s mouth, not to stop breathing.
Ray moved his other hand up, under Fraser’s shirt to rest on his stomach. Fraser tangled his fingers in Ray’s hair.
Ray stopped, sucking on his bottom lip for the briefest second before he pulled his mouth away, and scraped his stubble across Fraser’s cheek.
“Still sorry?” Ray whispered in his ear.
He put his free hand on the back of Ray’s neck and gently moved his head back to where it was, in order to properly answer.
~
Later, Ray woke up with Fraser gently nuzzling at the soft skin on the underside of his wrist.
“Oh,” He said, smiling. “Hey, Frase.”
“Hello, Ray,” Fraser replied, moving his head up level with Ray’s.
And at last, of course, they kiss.
Team: Romance
Author: umbrella_half
Prompt: "You're crossing a line there"
Pairing(s): Fraser/Kowalski
Length: 1700 words
Rating: R for language
Author’s note: Thanks go to slidellra and also the_antichris for beta-ing tips (i.e. making the whole thing vaguely readable, thank you so much!) This was previously posted in the Team Romance community under the user-name take-no-ko, but I have since changed my journal.
Summary: And at last, of course, they kiss. But at first, it wasn’t that easy.
And at last, of course, they kiss.
But at first, it wasn’t that easy. Easy enough, though. He and Ray both accepted that there was some sort of tension between them. They’d catch the other looking too long, the gaze a lingering a little too much on their face. There was the odd eyebrow rub, the occasional cough. The awkwardness on stakeouts, after the coffee had been drunk and the takeout had been eaten.
In the suffocating silence of the car, he imagined the North, going through the details carefully and methodically in his mind. He heard the creak of his boots in the snow, squinted against the bright reflected glare. He breathed the cold air and took in the feel of the land, the feel of home. It was familiar and comforting. He understood it.
He tried not to remember those things he didn’t. The warm fingers. The rough graze of stubble on Ray’s cheek at the end of the day. He put them out of his mind, trying not to think about the beer that had spilled onto Ray’s coffee table and almost stained the rug. Just the feel of the falling snow, the taste of the tea made around the campfire. Just that. Just the ice - cold, hard glaciers, even the little shards.
~
Ray had told him to get the beer from the fridge and he’d opened the freezer by mistake. The build-up of ice on the door and in the draws made it difficult to shut the door again, and he wondered how on earth Ray had managed to shut it in the first place.
“Your freezer looks like it could use defrosting, Ray,” He said.
“Beer’s in the fridge, Fraser, not the freezer.”
“Understood,” he’d replied. Normally he would’ve found a wooden spatula somewhere in the kitchen and chiselled away until it was suitably clean of excess ice, but instead just forced it closed and found the beer in the fridge - two bottles, next to each other.
Then he and Ray had sipped and talked, with Dief sleeping, curled up, in a corner. He told Ray Tsimshian legends, full of dark ravens and white snow. Ray told him about high school; fluorescent light and rainy days. They moved on to more and more obscure stories, and Ray was just relating how he’d narrowly escaped being skinned alive by the guy in the Chinese bakery when he was thirteen.
“So there I am, nearly shitting myself, when, BAM!” he said, bringing his hand down hard on the edge of the coffee table. He hissed, wincing in pain. “Shit. Ow.”
Fraser reached over and touched Ray’s index finger lightly with the tips of his.
“Are you alright?”
It took a second. Ray had warm fingers, he realised; the thought popping up, unbidden. He jerked his hand away, and his elbow collided with his still half-full beer bottle. It fell on its side with a resounding clunk and dribbled out foam and beer onto the polished wood.
“Oh,” said Ray, looking around for tissues.
“I - ah - sorry, Ray.” He mopped it up with a handkerchief, wiping off the table leg before the errant drip could finish its descent and stain the rug.
“No problem.” Ray stood up. When Fraser glanced, he had a slight frown, his eyes looking up to the ceiling. “…Hey, Fraser?” he said, walking to the kitchen. “Want some coffee?”
Fraser stood up and put the handkerchief back in his jeans pocket.
“Yes, thank you.”
He never did get to hear the end of that story.
~
“I defrosted my freezer.” Ray said. “Took forever.”
For the past half an hour he’d been fiddling with his seatbelt, twisting it and untwisting it while keeping his eyes on the building they were watching. Fraser had remained still. Nothing moved outside.
He frowned, considering how to properly respond.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. After you left, y’know. I figured I’d had too much coffee to sleep just then, and so, what the hell. My kitchen floor got soaked. Should’ve put down some newspaper.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Ray.” He tried to keep his tone breezy. It came out lame, shot-in-the-foot.
“Nah. My own fault.”
Then there was silence. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ray biting his lip, a frown on his face.
“We’ve really gotta stop this, Frase.”
Fraser’s stomach lurched. Damn. “Stop what, Ray?”
“We’ve be waltzing around this for ages. You know we have.”
“Around what?” he said quietly. His face was uncomfortably hot, and he felt a pang of relief that Ray couldn’t see in the darkness of the car. But he knew exactly what this was, the reality too uncomfortable, far too embarrassing to really contemplate.
“Listen…” Ray said. He sighed, sagging a little in his seat, his shoulders hunched up and tense.
“No, I… I’m sorry, Ray.” Ray mustn’t say it, Fraser thought. “I’ve been distracted lately. I’m sorry if I’ve been, ah… awkward around you.”
Ray nodded, still frowning a little.
“It won’t happen again.” He said, quickly. A lie, and they both knew it. But it plunged them back into the silence, which was, he’d realised, infinitely preferable to the talking. He took a breath. “But, you know, these things tend to take time, Ray.”
“What things?” Ray turned in his seat to look at him.
“Oh, you know…” There was an aching silence. “…defrosting one’s freezer.” He said.
~
Ray dropped him off in front of the consulate and Fraser thanked him, politely. It’d been a long night, and nothing had happened. He wanted to get up to his office, and sleep the dreamless sleep of the blameless. He knew he wouldn’t be so lucky.
Diefenbaker whined, and Fraser turned round.
“Hello, Dad.”
“You're crossing a line there, son.”
“I know.”
“He’s your partner.”
“I know.”
“If you’re sweet on the yank, son… things could get ugly.”
“I know, Dad. I know.” He hung his head, guilty in the shadow of his father’s gaze. Normally their conversations ran on long and slow, with a sort of glacial inevitability to them. But this time Fraser watched as his father nodded and walked off into the early morning.
~
Fraser fumbles for the phone in the dim room, blinking blurrily and colliding painfully with the arm of the desk chair.
“Hello?”
“Frase, it’s me.”
“Oh, Ray. Hello.”
“I’m outside now. Can you let me in?”
“Now?” His brain is still foggy. He wonders what time it is. “What time is it?
“It’s nearly six. C’mon, let me in. I’m freezing my ass off out here.”
“I’ll be down in a minute, Ray.”
He pulled on some jeans and a shirt, cracked open the blinds and went out into the hallway, as quietly as possible. The consulate at night was always a little odd, but in the early morning it seemed to have a sadly majestic quality to it. His bare feet made little noise on the thick carpet.
He unlocked the door.
“Hello, Ray.”
“Hey, Fraser.” Ray seemed sheepish, almost sad. Fraser was just confused. Fraser held the door open and Ray walked in, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them. “It’s cold out there,” he said.
“Ray… Is something wrong?” Fraser said. He knew that something was wrong, lots of things were wrong. Ray nodded, began to walk towards Fraser’s room.
The click of the door as Fraser shut it behind him sounded final and loud in the early morning quiet. He leaned back against the painted wood, palms against the wood.
“We need to talk.” Ray said.
“Yes.”
“Fraser…” Ray shuffled his feet, sighed in frustration. Fraser swallowed. “Fraser, we’re buddies, right? Partners?”
Fraser nodded.
“And we can’t go on with all this shuffling, all this dancing round everything.”
“I…” Fraser began. “No, I suppose we can’t, Ray.”
“So instead of making me feel like I’ve gotta tread on fucking eggshells around you, why don’t you cut me some slack, Fraser?” Ray sagged, sitting on the edge of the desk.
“I’m sorry, Ray,” he began again, then paused. There was a long, cold silence. “What do you want me to say?”
Ray rolled his eyes.
“Just tell me what’s up.”
“Up?” Fraser repeated the last syllable, unthinking, his heart beating faster. “Ray, I… you’re my partner, Ray. My friend.” He frowned and looked down. “I didn’t really think that that could change. And now, well Ray…”
He looked up. Ray was looking at him. He had dark rings under his eyes, stubble on his face. His jaw was locked, tense and hard.
“I’m sorry, Ray.” He couldn’t say it, not in the end. Ray frowned, stood up and walked over to him.
“Fraser.” Ray said, and took Fraser’s hand in his own. He had warm fingers. Dry palms. Rough knuckles. Ray’s thumb stroked across his wrist. “This what you’re sorry about?” He looked at Fraser, cocking an eyebrow.
“I… suppose so.” Fraser said, and swallowed. It won’t work. It won’t because it can’t.
“Shouldn’t be.” Ray replied, shaking his head, gently.
He kissed Fraser.
Fraser’s eyes widened. Chapped lips met his own, and Ray’s grip on his hand tightened, just slightly. It was gentle. Half scared, half thrilled, he tried to kiss back, and not to laugh in Ray’s mouth, not to stop breathing.
Ray moved his other hand up, under Fraser’s shirt to rest on his stomach. Fraser tangled his fingers in Ray’s hair.
Ray stopped, sucking on his bottom lip for the briefest second before he pulled his mouth away, and scraped his stubble across Fraser’s cheek.
“Still sorry?” Ray whispered in his ear.
He put his free hand on the back of Ray’s neck and gently moved his head back to where it was, in order to properly answer.
~
Later, Ray woke up with Fraser gently nuzzling at the soft skin on the underside of his wrist.
“Oh,” He said, smiling. “Hey, Frase.”
“Hello, Ray,” Fraser replied, moving his head up level with Ray’s.
And at last, of course, they kiss.