Apology Challenge by Aingeal
Title: Washing us clean
Author: Aingeal
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1161
Summary: This could be the happiest day of Ray's life.
Notes: Thanks ot leda_speaks for beta. Post-Victoria's Secret.
Wasing us clean
Ray Vecchio wakes up slowly. He's just enjoying the peace and quiet. His family are away in Florida, he has the house to himself. Well, not exactly, he's not completely alone. He doesn't have the bed to himself either. He can feel the warm presence next to him before he even opens his eyes. He knows he's smiling as he does so.
He turns his gaze to the body next to him in bed; Benton Fraser is in bed with him, Ray Vecchio. This is it, the very first morning they're waking up together. This might be the happiest day of Ray's life. He stretches a little, feeling the covers against his naked skin.
“Hey,” he says, smiling at his new lover.
“Good morning, Ray,” Fraser replies, the hint of a smile on his lips.
They just stay there, staring at each other, for several minutes. Like two teenagers who can't take their eyes off of each other. It's the first time they've really looked at each other like this. At least for this long. Ray knows he'll never get tired of that view. His family aren't back for another six days, plenty of time to take it all in.
Their moment is interrupted by the beeping of Ray's alarm. Scowling, Ray turns over and switches it off. Next time he'll remember to turn it off the night before, he thinks. Even if he will end up late for work. He's relieved today is his day off. His timing couldn't be better.
“We should get up, Ray,” Fraser says, all practical. Ray curses the alarm clock.
“Okay,” he agrees, but makes no move to get up.
They start looking at each other again, waiting to see who will move first, neither of them really wanting to move. Ray can feel the need to use the bathroom but he's not going to move until Fraser does, he resists the call of nature as much as he can. He doesn't want to be the one to break up this picture. He draws on years of experience of stakeouts in dodgy alleyways to resist.
In the end nature wins out with Fraser. “I need to use the bathroom, Ray,” he says, a little disappointed and a little embarrassed.
“Do you want to share a shower?” Ray asks, boldly.
“Is this another American custom?” Fraser asks, his eyes teasing.
“Yeah, you need to expand your horizons, Benny.”
“I do, Ray,” Fraser agrees.
Ray drags himself out of bed as Fraser is already on his way to the bathroom. He takes it slow, enjoying the fact he's walking through the hallway naked, carrying his bathrobe and towels, he doesn't see a need to wear a thing. The only person to look at him is Fraser and Ray doesn't think he minds what he sees.
When he gets in the bathroom Fraser is already in the shower, picking up the soap. Ray places his robe and towels down and gets into the shower to join him.
“You know, Benny, when you share a shower you're supposed to get in together,” he says, mockingly sounding annoyed.
“I'll remember that, Ray,” Fraser replies, handing Ray the soap.
Ray laughs. Trust Benny to see sharing a shower as practical. Maybe they do up in the armpit of the frozen north. He works up a lather and begins to work his magic across Fraser's chest. He can tell Fraser is relaxed by the way he's no longer standing like he's on guard duty. He smiles and enjoys rubbing the soap into Fraser's skin; this is decent soap, not that Mountie issue stuff.
Fraser turns around so Ray can do his back and Ray stops, the soap heavy in his hand. He hadn't seen it last night, hadn't noticed it this morning but there it is; the scar. The scar under which Ray's bullet lies. He reaches forward, not sure if he can touch it.
“Ray?” Fraser's voice is concerned.
Ray makes contact, feeling the rough skin, it looks red raw. He can't rub it better, he can never take that scar and its consequences away. He touches it lightly, scared that if he touches too hard the bullet may shift and...he can't even imagine the devastation that would cause.
“I'm sorry,” Ray whispers, caressing the scar lightly, wishing he could take it away.
Fraser's hand comes around and grips Ray's wrist. “Don't,” he says. Fraser turns around to face him. “You have nothing to apologise for, Ray.”
Fraser is standing there under the shower like an angel in the rain. He's looking at Ray with love and forgiveness. Ray is overwhelmed. He isn't sure whether the water running his face is from the shower or his own tears. His eyes are stinging. He's still hanging onto the soap, clenching it tightly, the feel of it keeping him grounded, stopping him from just sitting down and sobbing,
Then Fraser takes the soap from him, places it back on the side. He can feel the tip of Fraser's finger touching his own scar, the mark of the bullet in his shoulder.
“I'm sorry,” Fraser says.
“I know,” Ray replies. “So am I.”
They don't say anything then. Ray finds they are stumbling into each other's arms and holding each other. The water is pouring down, over them, washing away the guilt and the pain. It's good to stand here and be cleansed by the touch of each other. It's not in the least bit erotic, it's about letting things out without words. About just feeling each other.
The water goes lukewarm before they part. The act of washing is finished quickly and efficiently before the water becomes cold. They get out carefully, handing each other towels and allowing a weak smile to slip through now and then. A little bit of reassurance. They don't need to talk any more, they have negated the need for words. They hold hands as they go back to Ray's bedroom.
Ray dresses quickly, thinning hair having some advantages. He leaves Fraser drying his and goes downstairs. He searches through kitchen for food, pots and pans. By the time Fraser comes downstairs Ray has made a few pancakes and is making some more. Coffee is brewing and the smells of the kitchen bring life into an otherwise quiet house.
They sit together to eat. Ray serves Fraser first. He watches as Benny takes a bite of the pancake, he can see Fraser is sceptical. There's delight for Ray as Fraser's face shows his enjoyment.
Benny swallows. “These are very good pancakes, Ray,” he says, already tucking into another.
“It's an American tradition, Fraser,” Ray replies, smiling.
Fraser is here, in Ray's house, in the kitchen, eating pancakes Ray has cooked for him, and he looks happy. The sunshine is coming through the windows, making the place look bright and new. Ray takes a sip of coffee and reflects. Yes, this is the happiest day of his life.
Author: Aingeal
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1161
Summary: This could be the happiest day of Ray's life.
Notes: Thanks ot leda_speaks for beta. Post-Victoria's Secret.
Wasing us clean
Ray Vecchio wakes up slowly. He's just enjoying the peace and quiet. His family are away in Florida, he has the house to himself. Well, not exactly, he's not completely alone. He doesn't have the bed to himself either. He can feel the warm presence next to him before he even opens his eyes. He knows he's smiling as he does so.
He turns his gaze to the body next to him in bed; Benton Fraser is in bed with him, Ray Vecchio. This is it, the very first morning they're waking up together. This might be the happiest day of Ray's life. He stretches a little, feeling the covers against his naked skin.
“Hey,” he says, smiling at his new lover.
“Good morning, Ray,” Fraser replies, the hint of a smile on his lips.
They just stay there, staring at each other, for several minutes. Like two teenagers who can't take their eyes off of each other. It's the first time they've really looked at each other like this. At least for this long. Ray knows he'll never get tired of that view. His family aren't back for another six days, plenty of time to take it all in.
Their moment is interrupted by the beeping of Ray's alarm. Scowling, Ray turns over and switches it off. Next time he'll remember to turn it off the night before, he thinks. Even if he will end up late for work. He's relieved today is his day off. His timing couldn't be better.
“We should get up, Ray,” Fraser says, all practical. Ray curses the alarm clock.
“Okay,” he agrees, but makes no move to get up.
They start looking at each other again, waiting to see who will move first, neither of them really wanting to move. Ray can feel the need to use the bathroom but he's not going to move until Fraser does, he resists the call of nature as much as he can. He doesn't want to be the one to break up this picture. He draws on years of experience of stakeouts in dodgy alleyways to resist.
In the end nature wins out with Fraser. “I need to use the bathroom, Ray,” he says, a little disappointed and a little embarrassed.
“Do you want to share a shower?” Ray asks, boldly.
“Is this another American custom?” Fraser asks, his eyes teasing.
“Yeah, you need to expand your horizons, Benny.”
“I do, Ray,” Fraser agrees.
Ray drags himself out of bed as Fraser is already on his way to the bathroom. He takes it slow, enjoying the fact he's walking through the hallway naked, carrying his bathrobe and towels, he doesn't see a need to wear a thing. The only person to look at him is Fraser and Ray doesn't think he minds what he sees.
When he gets in the bathroom Fraser is already in the shower, picking up the soap. Ray places his robe and towels down and gets into the shower to join him.
“You know, Benny, when you share a shower you're supposed to get in together,” he says, mockingly sounding annoyed.
“I'll remember that, Ray,” Fraser replies, handing Ray the soap.
Ray laughs. Trust Benny to see sharing a shower as practical. Maybe they do up in the armpit of the frozen north. He works up a lather and begins to work his magic across Fraser's chest. He can tell Fraser is relaxed by the way he's no longer standing like he's on guard duty. He smiles and enjoys rubbing the soap into Fraser's skin; this is decent soap, not that Mountie issue stuff.
Fraser turns around so Ray can do his back and Ray stops, the soap heavy in his hand. He hadn't seen it last night, hadn't noticed it this morning but there it is; the scar. The scar under which Ray's bullet lies. He reaches forward, not sure if he can touch it.
“Ray?” Fraser's voice is concerned.
Ray makes contact, feeling the rough skin, it looks red raw. He can't rub it better, he can never take that scar and its consequences away. He touches it lightly, scared that if he touches too hard the bullet may shift and...he can't even imagine the devastation that would cause.
“I'm sorry,” Ray whispers, caressing the scar lightly, wishing he could take it away.
Fraser's hand comes around and grips Ray's wrist. “Don't,” he says. Fraser turns around to face him. “You have nothing to apologise for, Ray.”
Fraser is standing there under the shower like an angel in the rain. He's looking at Ray with love and forgiveness. Ray is overwhelmed. He isn't sure whether the water running his face is from the shower or his own tears. His eyes are stinging. He's still hanging onto the soap, clenching it tightly, the feel of it keeping him grounded, stopping him from just sitting down and sobbing,
Then Fraser takes the soap from him, places it back on the side. He can feel the tip of Fraser's finger touching his own scar, the mark of the bullet in his shoulder.
“I'm sorry,” Fraser says.
“I know,” Ray replies. “So am I.”
They don't say anything then. Ray finds they are stumbling into each other's arms and holding each other. The water is pouring down, over them, washing away the guilt and the pain. It's good to stand here and be cleansed by the touch of each other. It's not in the least bit erotic, it's about letting things out without words. About just feeling each other.
The water goes lukewarm before they part. The act of washing is finished quickly and efficiently before the water becomes cold. They get out carefully, handing each other towels and allowing a weak smile to slip through now and then. A little bit of reassurance. They don't need to talk any more, they have negated the need for words. They hold hands as they go back to Ray's bedroom.
Ray dresses quickly, thinning hair having some advantages. He leaves Fraser drying his and goes downstairs. He searches through kitchen for food, pots and pans. By the time Fraser comes downstairs Ray has made a few pancakes and is making some more. Coffee is brewing and the smells of the kitchen bring life into an otherwise quiet house.
They sit together to eat. Ray serves Fraser first. He watches as Benny takes a bite of the pancake, he can see Fraser is sceptical. There's delight for Ray as Fraser's face shows his enjoyment.
Benny swallows. “These are very good pancakes, Ray,” he says, already tucking into another.
“It's an American tradition, Fraser,” Ray replies, smiling.
Fraser is here, in Ray's house, in the kitchen, eating pancakes Ray has cooked for him, and he looks happy. The sunshine is coming through the windows, making the place look bright and new. Ray takes a sip of coffee and reflects. Yes, this is the happiest day of his life.