wip it good
Title: meant to make me happy
Fandom: due South
Pairing: FKV
Warnings: None
For ds_aprilfools prompt 7 - defining moment. General audiences. Continues from aiming to be somebody. And at this point, I feel I should mention the titles are taken from the lyrics to Sara Bareilles's "Bottle It Up," except for the two earliest (timeline-wise) which are from Regina Spektor's "20 Years of Snow."
Ray lagged behind as they approached the house. Ben wasn't surprised that he was feeling a bit worn out at last -- and he was rather impressed by how well he'd kept up, given the lack of opportunities to practice in Chicago. The truck was back in its accustomed place when they tromped back into view; Ray had returned from his errand.
"Frase, hang on a sec."
"Come on," Ben replied, grinning. "We're almost there."
Ray put on a small burst of speed and caught at his arm before he reached the porch. He let himself be stopped and turned into the touch. Ray tugged his scarf out of the way and kissed him. Ray's nose was a spot of cold, his lips chilled, but his mouth... Ben made an appreciative noise, catching at arms lost beneath cold-weather padding. After a long moment, Ray opened a small space between them and stood quietly breathing, with his eyes still shut.
"Okay," he murmured, more it seemed to himself than to Ben. He opened his eyes and slid a smile onto his face. "Okay, let's go in."
Ben half-frowned at him, but Ray was already moving towards the house. Ray was uncharacteristically quiet as they removed their snowshoes. Inside, Diefenbaker welcomed them back enthusiastically; Ray gave him a distracted pat and tugged at his bootlaces. Dealing with outerwear and boots provided a few moments' distraction, but Ben was prepared to pursue Ray's strange mood afterward. He looked instinctively to Ray to solicit his assistance -- only to realize Ray hadn't come to greet them. "Ray?"
Ray's gaze flicked to him and skittered away. He leaned against the wall beside the door, offered a small and rather unreassuring smile, then lifted his voice. "Vecchio!"
Ray was quiet but nervous when he walked into the main room. It was disconcerting to say the least, since Ray papered over nerves with bluster as a matter of course. He couldn't imagine what would make Ray sufficiently worried that he wouldn't attempt to hide it behind a wall of inconsequential words. No, Ben simply didn't want to imagine it -- but taken together with Ray's odd disquiet, it wasn't hard to come up with the reason anyway. He'd known this arrangement would prove untenable in the long run, regardless of any irrational hope he'd held to the contrary. He pulled his shoulders back straight and readied himself to hear the unpleasant truth.
"Benny, hey." Ray cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "You know the last of the Iguana family trials wrapped up. So they won't be needing me to testify anymore. I'm done. And I've been on restricted duty since I got back to Chicago. So I talked to Welsh and my rep, and we worked it so I could take that retirement now, even though I went back to the job after -- after I got hurt."
"Congratulations," he offered after the pause stretched into something expectant.
"I was hoping to spend it up here. With you."
"No." The denial escaped on a breath, every bit as reflexive as breathing itself. He'd misheard, or he'd misunderstood. Ray didn't-- he couldn't--
Ray flinched then dropped his eyes. "Sorry. I shouldn't have--"
"Vecchio." Ray's hand landed solid between Ben's shoulder blades, and he leaned gratefully back into the steadying weight. "It wasn't that kind of no. Get over here."
Ray shot Ray a sharp, hurt look in response -- a look that vanished as he caught sight of Ben's face. Whatever he read there had him quickly crossing the space between them, his hands closing briefly on Ben's arms before pulling him into a full embrace. "Sorry," he said again, but softer, warmer. Ben didn't so much return the hug as cling to him.
Ray rubbed his hand in abbreviated circles between Ray's arms. "You asshole, you thought we were breaking up with you?"
"Ray!" Ray sounded scandalized, but Ben felt the knots in his back begin to loosen beneath Ray's hand. Ray offered a reassertion of normalcy that Ben needed.
"It seemed to fit the evidence," he admitted.
Ray's arms tightened; Ray just snorted. "For such a smart guy, you're an idiot. No, neither of us is leaving you. Yes, Vecchio wants to move here. 'S why he shipped all his crap up here." He leaned forward until his head rested against Ben's and his words slipped directly into Ben's ear. "If you meant, 'no, it's too much,' that's okay, too. We'll find him a place somewhere in town, take it in steps. Just think about it?"
Ben nodded, though if Ray were serious in his intent -- and it seemed he must be, then he couldn't imagine him living anywhere but with him. He'd spent years torn between one or the other, either the people he needed or the home that was too much a part of him to give up again. Instead, Ray was surrendering his city, his home, for him. Ray was offering too much, but Ben didn't have the fortitude to refuse. "Yes. Of course, yes."
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Fandom: due South
Pairing: FKV
Warnings: None
For ds_aprilfools prompt 7 - defining moment. General audiences. Continues from aiming to be somebody. And at this point, I feel I should mention the titles are taken from the lyrics to Sara Bareilles's "Bottle It Up," except for the two earliest (timeline-wise) which are from Regina Spektor's "20 Years of Snow."
Ray lagged behind as they approached the house. Ben wasn't surprised that he was feeling a bit worn out at last -- and he was rather impressed by how well he'd kept up, given the lack of opportunities to practice in Chicago. The truck was back in its accustomed place when they tromped back into view; Ray had returned from his errand.
"Frase, hang on a sec."
"Come on," Ben replied, grinning. "We're almost there."
Ray put on a small burst of speed and caught at his arm before he reached the porch. He let himself be stopped and turned into the touch. Ray tugged his scarf out of the way and kissed him. Ray's nose was a spot of cold, his lips chilled, but his mouth... Ben made an appreciative noise, catching at arms lost beneath cold-weather padding. After a long moment, Ray opened a small space between them and stood quietly breathing, with his eyes still shut.
"Okay," he murmured, more it seemed to himself than to Ben. He opened his eyes and slid a smile onto his face. "Okay, let's go in."
Ben half-frowned at him, but Ray was already moving towards the house. Ray was uncharacteristically quiet as they removed their snowshoes. Inside, Diefenbaker welcomed them back enthusiastically; Ray gave him a distracted pat and tugged at his bootlaces. Dealing with outerwear and boots provided a few moments' distraction, but Ben was prepared to pursue Ray's strange mood afterward. He looked instinctively to Ray to solicit his assistance -- only to realize Ray hadn't come to greet them. "Ray?"
Ray's gaze flicked to him and skittered away. He leaned against the wall beside the door, offered a small and rather unreassuring smile, then lifted his voice. "Vecchio!"
Ray was quiet but nervous when he walked into the main room. It was disconcerting to say the least, since Ray papered over nerves with bluster as a matter of course. He couldn't imagine what would make Ray sufficiently worried that he wouldn't attempt to hide it behind a wall of inconsequential words. No, Ben simply didn't want to imagine it -- but taken together with Ray's odd disquiet, it wasn't hard to come up with the reason anyway. He'd known this arrangement would prove untenable in the long run, regardless of any irrational hope he'd held to the contrary. He pulled his shoulders back straight and readied himself to hear the unpleasant truth.
"Benny, hey." Ray cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "You know the last of the Iguana family trials wrapped up. So they won't be needing me to testify anymore. I'm done. And I've been on restricted duty since I got back to Chicago. So I talked to Welsh and my rep, and we worked it so I could take that retirement now, even though I went back to the job after -- after I got hurt."
"Congratulations," he offered after the pause stretched into something expectant.
"I was hoping to spend it up here. With you."
"No." The denial escaped on a breath, every bit as reflexive as breathing itself. He'd misheard, or he'd misunderstood. Ray didn't-- he couldn't--
Ray flinched then dropped his eyes. "Sorry. I shouldn't have--"
"Vecchio." Ray's hand landed solid between Ben's shoulder blades, and he leaned gratefully back into the steadying weight. "It wasn't that kind of no. Get over here."
Ray shot Ray a sharp, hurt look in response -- a look that vanished as he caught sight of Ben's face. Whatever he read there had him quickly crossing the space between them, his hands closing briefly on Ben's arms before pulling him into a full embrace. "Sorry," he said again, but softer, warmer. Ben didn't so much return the hug as cling to him.
Ray rubbed his hand in abbreviated circles between Ray's arms. "You asshole, you thought we were breaking up with you?"
"Ray!" Ray sounded scandalized, but Ben felt the knots in his back begin to loosen beneath Ray's hand. Ray offered a reassertion of normalcy that Ben needed.
"It seemed to fit the evidence," he admitted.
Ray's arms tightened; Ray just snorted. "For such a smart guy, you're an idiot. No, neither of us is leaving you. Yes, Vecchio wants to move here. 'S why he shipped all his crap up here." He leaned forward until his head rested against Ben's and his words slipped directly into Ben's ear. "If you meant, 'no, it's too much,' that's okay, too. We'll find him a place somewhere in town, take it in steps. Just think about it?"
Ben nodded, though if Ray were serious in his intent -- and it seemed he must be, then he couldn't imagine him living anywhere but with him. He'd spent years torn between one or the other, either the people he needed or the home that was too much a part of him to give up again. Instead, Ray was surrendering his city, his home, for him. Ray was offering too much, but Ben didn't have the fortitude to refuse. "Yes. Of course, yes."
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