fic? fic.
Title: epilogue/prologue
Fandom: due South
Pairing: F/K
Note: A belated birthday fic for j_s_cavalcante. About 1300 words.
Fraser had fallen asleep pretty much the moment Ray had steered him into the car. It wasn't even a surprise, the way he'd been pushing himself the last week. They all had - it's what happened on a case like that - but Ray'd caught a few hours sleep here and there, when he'd been threatened out of the squad room by the lieutenant. Fraser, though, he'd have reported back to work at the consulate between phone calls and leads, because the civilized world would grind to a halt if anything held up consular paperwork. Even now, there was probably some blah-blah-oblique-stroke-blah form lying in wait for him.
Ray glanced across at Fraser, head lolling against his flannel covered shoulder and flipped the signal from right to left, weaving smoothly across three lanes to take the turn to his apartment instead of the consulate. Fraser would never get enough sleep there.
Because bringing Fraser back to his place was totally selfless. Right.
He parked, shut off the engine and turned to answer Fraser's various objections to spending the night somewhere comfortable. But Fraser hadn't even stirred at the change in sound, Ray saw, and he smiled. The guy was out cold. He let Dief out on his side and walked around to cautiously open the passenger side door. Fraser hadn't been leaning too much weight against it, so he neither woke up nor spilled out. Ray hunkered down to his level.
"Fraser?" He kept his voice soft, not wanting to startle him, more than half not even wanting to wake him, but he'd sleep better and his neck would thank him if he were more horizontal. "Frase?"
Fraser shifted slightly, turning away from the sound and the street lights, his face wrinkling into something suspiciously like a pout, as he struggled against waking up as strongly as he'd struggled to stay awake earlier. Ray's smile spread. He touched Fraser's cheek, turning his face back towards the door. "C'mon. You don't want to sleep here."
The slight roughness of stubble rubbed against his palm, as Fraser turned his head. His eyes blinked blearily open. "Ray?"
He reluctantly pulled his hand back. "Yeah, Frase. We're home. Let's get you upstairs."
Fraser's forehead wrinkled again into a look of utter confusion as he glanced past Ray. He opened his mouth to say something, but when Dief barked, he subsided back into silence. He fumbled off the seatbelt and all but staggered out of the car. Ray caught him, propped him up with an arm under his shoulder, and shut the car door himself. Fraser leaned on him, exhaustion winning out against puzzlement.
Dief lead the way into the building and upstairs, as Ray guided an increasingly heavy Fraser. Unlocking the door was a trick, Fraser's weight a dead drag on his body, steadying Fraser with one arm as he rattled through the key chain singlehandedly. Inside, Ray propped him against the wall, saying, "Stay."
Dief sat and tipped his head. He laughed. "Not you." Sure the wolf was deaf.
He toed off his own mud and muck covered boots, then untied Fraser's and maneuvered him out of them. He looked up, half expecting Fraser to have dropped off still standing. But no, he was awake or nearly so, eyes on Ray.
Ray stood up. Fraser's eyes tracked him, but he wasn't sure anyone was home. He tugged Fraser by the hand away from the wall, around the minefield of furniture in the half lit room. Fraser wove a bit, but followed gamely, tamely, into the bedroom. Ray didn't bother with the light, just hauled him over to the bed and left him there. After putting down water for Dief, he realized he hadn't grabbed a blanket from the bedroom. He shuffled back in, to find Fraser standing right where he'd left him. Fraser's head turned from the bed to Ray and back again. The wheels were turning, but Ray could see the gears weren't catching. He stifled a laugh, patted Fraser on the arm. "It's okay. You can go back to sleep now."
Fraser nodded, slung an arm around Ray's waist, and tumbled them both onto the bed.
Ray blinked up at his ceiling. Huh. That was unexpected.
He tried to sit up, but Fraser's arm tightened immediately and he curled into Ray, making a small sleepy-grumpy noise. He relaxed and after a moment the arm did, too. Unfortunately, he had a whole laundry list of reasons that sleeping in the same bed with Fraser was a Bad Idea, beginning with Inappropriate Feelings plus Tendency to Move in Sleep and ending with Fraser Transferring North. Alright, then, he just needed to let Fraser fall more deeply asleep. Then he'd get up, turn off the light and knock out on the sofa. He listened to Fraser's steady breathing and waited. He'd be able to slip away in a few minutes.
///
In his dream, his grandmother was chiding him for oversleeping when the dogs hadn't been fed yet. He tried to answer, scrambling for an explanation -- I'm sorry; I was in Chicago and lost track of the time -- and woke himself up in the process.
Before he even opened his eyes, though, something felt wrong- no, not wrong exactly. Different. He was lying on his side, not his back, on a too soft surface. The degree and quality of light were strange. And he seemed to have his arm draped over - he opened his eyes - Ray. Ray, sleeping.
Oh. He hadn't woken up. Well, in that case, he much preferred this dream. Ray asleep in his arms, their limbs intertwined, the lines of Ray's face utterly relaxed, his hair... well, not. Ben smiled. His subconscious had apparently spent some time considering what sleep would do to one of Ray's more exuberantly experimental hairstyles.
Oddly, he'd dreamed them both fully clothed. He slid his hand up Ray's side, enjoying the slide of the soft cotton tee laid over Ray's wiry torso. The sensations were exactly as he'd imagined during his more ill-advised daydreams.
Under his hand, Ray stirred and snuffled (clearly a noise made by Diefenbaker and incorporated into his dream state). He rolled closer to Ben, then froze. One eye opened almost cautiously, before both widened into an almost comical expression of alarm. Briefly, Ben seemed to teeter on the edge of an anxiety dream, but the best thing about a lucid dream was it was entirely possible for the dreamer to change its direction.
"Ray," he said affectionately. And he kissed him.
Ray's lips were warm and soft and perfect, and sufficiently distracting that he failed to notice for a long, wonderful moment that Ray had gone positively rigid. He pulled away, puzzled. Ray's eyes were wide. Shocked. And only then did he realize he had made a terrible mistake: he wasn't asleep at all.
For a moment neither of them moved. Ben's hand was still clutched in the back of Ray's shirt, still taking unwarranted liberties. Even if he didn't know what he could possibly say to make amends, he could at least release Ray in the meantime. He started untangling his fingers only to be pushed flat under Ray.
"Oh, no, you don't." Ray's teeth flashed in his signature combative grin. He tried to brace himself for the undoubtedly deserved recriminations before cowardice closed his eyes.
He felt the brush of Ray's breath against his lips, then Ray's lips themselves. Oh. Oh, I didn't know, he thought and maybe attempted to say, because suddenly there was Ray's tongue pushing into his mouth, and Ray's leg pushing between his. Clearly, they did have certain things-- certain misapprehensions-- feelings to discuss, but just as clearly, they could wait. Ben tightened his grip on Ray and simply held on.
Fandom: due South
Pairing: F/K
Note: A belated birthday fic for j_s_cavalcante. About 1300 words.
Fraser had fallen asleep pretty much the moment Ray had steered him into the car. It wasn't even a surprise, the way he'd been pushing himself the last week. They all had - it's what happened on a case like that - but Ray'd caught a few hours sleep here and there, when he'd been threatened out of the squad room by the lieutenant. Fraser, though, he'd have reported back to work at the consulate between phone calls and leads, because the civilized world would grind to a halt if anything held up consular paperwork. Even now, there was probably some blah-blah-oblique-stroke-blah form lying in wait for him.
Ray glanced across at Fraser, head lolling against his flannel covered shoulder and flipped the signal from right to left, weaving smoothly across three lanes to take the turn to his apartment instead of the consulate. Fraser would never get enough sleep there.
Because bringing Fraser back to his place was totally selfless. Right.
He parked, shut off the engine and turned to answer Fraser's various objections to spending the night somewhere comfortable. But Fraser hadn't even stirred at the change in sound, Ray saw, and he smiled. The guy was out cold. He let Dief out on his side and walked around to cautiously open the passenger side door. Fraser hadn't been leaning too much weight against it, so he neither woke up nor spilled out. Ray hunkered down to his level.
"Fraser?" He kept his voice soft, not wanting to startle him, more than half not even wanting to wake him, but he'd sleep better and his neck would thank him if he were more horizontal. "Frase?"
Fraser shifted slightly, turning away from the sound and the street lights, his face wrinkling into something suspiciously like a pout, as he struggled against waking up as strongly as he'd struggled to stay awake earlier. Ray's smile spread. He touched Fraser's cheek, turning his face back towards the door. "C'mon. You don't want to sleep here."
The slight roughness of stubble rubbed against his palm, as Fraser turned his head. His eyes blinked blearily open. "Ray?"
He reluctantly pulled his hand back. "Yeah, Frase. We're home. Let's get you upstairs."
Fraser's forehead wrinkled again into a look of utter confusion as he glanced past Ray. He opened his mouth to say something, but when Dief barked, he subsided back into silence. He fumbled off the seatbelt and all but staggered out of the car. Ray caught him, propped him up with an arm under his shoulder, and shut the car door himself. Fraser leaned on him, exhaustion winning out against puzzlement.
Dief lead the way into the building and upstairs, as Ray guided an increasingly heavy Fraser. Unlocking the door was a trick, Fraser's weight a dead drag on his body, steadying Fraser with one arm as he rattled through the key chain singlehandedly. Inside, Ray propped him against the wall, saying, "Stay."
Dief sat and tipped his head. He laughed. "Not you." Sure the wolf was deaf.
He toed off his own mud and muck covered boots, then untied Fraser's and maneuvered him out of them. He looked up, half expecting Fraser to have dropped off still standing. But no, he was awake or nearly so, eyes on Ray.
Ray stood up. Fraser's eyes tracked him, but he wasn't sure anyone was home. He tugged Fraser by the hand away from the wall, around the minefield of furniture in the half lit room. Fraser wove a bit, but followed gamely, tamely, into the bedroom. Ray didn't bother with the light, just hauled him over to the bed and left him there. After putting down water for Dief, he realized he hadn't grabbed a blanket from the bedroom. He shuffled back in, to find Fraser standing right where he'd left him. Fraser's head turned from the bed to Ray and back again. The wheels were turning, but Ray could see the gears weren't catching. He stifled a laugh, patted Fraser on the arm. "It's okay. You can go back to sleep now."
Fraser nodded, slung an arm around Ray's waist, and tumbled them both onto the bed.
Ray blinked up at his ceiling. Huh. That was unexpected.
He tried to sit up, but Fraser's arm tightened immediately and he curled into Ray, making a small sleepy-grumpy noise. He relaxed and after a moment the arm did, too. Unfortunately, he had a whole laundry list of reasons that sleeping in the same bed with Fraser was a Bad Idea, beginning with Inappropriate Feelings plus Tendency to Move in Sleep and ending with Fraser Transferring North. Alright, then, he just needed to let Fraser fall more deeply asleep. Then he'd get up, turn off the light and knock out on the sofa. He listened to Fraser's steady breathing and waited. He'd be able to slip away in a few minutes.
///
In his dream, his grandmother was chiding him for oversleeping when the dogs hadn't been fed yet. He tried to answer, scrambling for an explanation -- I'm sorry; I was in Chicago and lost track of the time -- and woke himself up in the process.
Before he even opened his eyes, though, something felt wrong- no, not wrong exactly. Different. He was lying on his side, not his back, on a too soft surface. The degree and quality of light were strange. And he seemed to have his arm draped over - he opened his eyes - Ray. Ray, sleeping.
Oh. He hadn't woken up. Well, in that case, he much preferred this dream. Ray asleep in his arms, their limbs intertwined, the lines of Ray's face utterly relaxed, his hair... well, not. Ben smiled. His subconscious had apparently spent some time considering what sleep would do to one of Ray's more exuberantly experimental hairstyles.
Oddly, he'd dreamed them both fully clothed. He slid his hand up Ray's side, enjoying the slide of the soft cotton tee laid over Ray's wiry torso. The sensations were exactly as he'd imagined during his more ill-advised daydreams.
Under his hand, Ray stirred and snuffled (clearly a noise made by Diefenbaker and incorporated into his dream state). He rolled closer to Ben, then froze. One eye opened almost cautiously, before both widened into an almost comical expression of alarm. Briefly, Ben seemed to teeter on the edge of an anxiety dream, but the best thing about a lucid dream was it was entirely possible for the dreamer to change its direction.
"Ray," he said affectionately. And he kissed him.
Ray's lips were warm and soft and perfect, and sufficiently distracting that he failed to notice for a long, wonderful moment that Ray had gone positively rigid. He pulled away, puzzled. Ray's eyes were wide. Shocked. And only then did he realize he had made a terrible mistake: he wasn't asleep at all.
For a moment neither of them moved. Ben's hand was still clutched in the back of Ray's shirt, still taking unwarranted liberties. Even if he didn't know what he could possibly say to make amends, he could at least release Ray in the meantime. He started untangling his fingers only to be pushed flat under Ray.
"Oh, no, you don't." Ray's teeth flashed in his signature combative grin. He tried to brace himself for the undoubtedly deserved recriminations before cowardice closed his eyes.
He felt the brush of Ray's breath against his lips, then Ray's lips themselves. Oh. Oh, I didn't know, he thought and maybe attempted to say, because suddenly there was Ray's tongue pushing into his mouth, and Ray's leg pushing between his. Clearly, they did have certain things-- certain misapprehensions-- feelings to discuss, but just as clearly, they could wait. Ben tightened his grip on Ray and simply held on.