He snorted at Fraser, leaning over the table. "That there--" he pointed at the paper with index finger and pinky extended, "is the moment I realized I was in trouble. That song is the closest the Clash comes to a love song. I wrote the lyrics down, thinking of you, then I did that." Now, Ray was pointing to where he'd written several permutations of Fraser's name.
Fraser still didn't understand. He shook his head. "You also drew a spider and a web, and this looks like a grocery list," he pointed out. In addition, the paper was ripped, crumpled and severely stained by what smelled like coffee. The coffee had smeared the lyrics slightly.
Ray was shaking his head. "See, this is why I think you had a depraved childhood."
"Ah, I think you mean deprived, Ray."
"Whatever." He waved his hand around in the air and cleared his throat. "When you're a kid and you get a crush on somebody, you spend a lot of time writing down their name and yours, together. Usually with a big heart around it. 'Cause you're going to get married and you want to see how your names will fit together."
Ray was blushing. Fraser wasn't positive, but it seems like Ray's cheeks were a little ruddier than normal. "That's what I was doing when I wrote down your name. Seeing how it looked with mine," he blurted.
"Ah." Fraser smoothed the paper out on the table and read the lyrics, trying to hear the song in his head. Looking over at Ray, Fraser noticed that he was jiggling his leg, a sure sign of nervousness, the Ray-equivalent of Fraser's neck-crack or eyebrow rub. He stood and moved around the table to stand next to him. "Thank you, Ray." Reaching down, he cupped Ray's stubble-rough face and brought their lips together in the softest, sweetest kiss he could manage, trying to convey his love through this simple, ordinary touch.
"You're welcome, Ben," Ray muttered against his lips, trying to pull Fraser closer.
He laughed softly and held himself away, teasing. "It's a charming card, Ray. Did one of the children down at the community center make it?" Ray spent a lot of his free time volunteering down at the local community center, working with at-risk kids.
Fraser could actually feel the heat in Ray's face as he blushed. He pulled away and looked into Ray's face, confused.
"I made the card," Ray mumbled. “The kids helped a little.”
“Ah.” Fraser walked into the kitchen and opened the junk drawer, digging around for something. He came back to the table holding a large envelope, defiantly meeting Ray's gaze. “I know what I said, but--” He broke off as Ray waved his hand around.
“It's okay. Lemme see your knife for a minute.”
Fraser handed over the knife and watched as Ray opened the two-toned envelope and took out the card. It was dark pink in color, with hearts cut out of the cardstock. The hearts were grouped together to form a larger heart. Fraser had chosen a contrasting blue paper to back the hearts. He was really quite proud of the card.
Ray fingered the front of the card before opening it up. Inside, Fraser had neatly written words that had come straight from his heart.
Ray -
This poem expresses only the smallest part of what I feel for you.
Love, affection, trust.
Partnership. For now and always.
Benton
Inside, on a torn sheet of blue paper, Fraser had copied one of his favorite poems by Rumi, one that seemed to come close to how he felt about Ray. He watched as Ray slowly read the poem, watched as he blinked away tears and looked at him with such openness is his blue eyes.
Ray cleared his throat noisily. “I love you, Ben.”
“And I, you, Ray.” Fraser laughed and pulled Ray to his feet. "Well, I feel that I should properly thank you for knowing what I really want and for my Valentine's Day card. I'm sure we can think of something..." He let the sentence trail off suggestively and led Ray to the bedroom.
It was going to be a wonderful Valentine's Day, after all.
Fraser still didn't understand. He shook his head. "You also drew a spider and a web, and this looks like a grocery list," he pointed out. In addition, the paper was ripped, crumpled and severely stained by what smelled like coffee. The coffee had smeared the lyrics slightly.
Ray was shaking his head. "See, this is why I think you had a depraved childhood."
"Ah, I think you mean deprived, Ray."
"Whatever." He waved his hand around in the air and cleared his throat. "When you're a kid and you get a crush on somebody, you spend a lot of time writing down their name and yours, together. Usually with a big heart around it. 'Cause you're going to get married and you want to see how your names will fit together."
Ray was blushing. Fraser wasn't positive, but it seems like Ray's cheeks were a little ruddier than normal. "That's what I was doing when I wrote down your name. Seeing how it looked with mine," he blurted.
"Ah." Fraser smoothed the paper out on the table and read the lyrics, trying to hear the song in his head. Looking over at Ray, Fraser noticed that he was jiggling his leg, a sure sign of nervousness, the Ray-equivalent of Fraser's neck-crack or eyebrow rub. He stood and moved around the table to stand next to him. "Thank you, Ray." Reaching down, he cupped Ray's stubble-rough face and brought their lips together in the softest, sweetest kiss he could manage, trying to convey his love through this simple, ordinary touch.
"You're welcome, Ben," Ray muttered against his lips, trying to pull Fraser closer.
He laughed softly and held himself away, teasing. "It's a charming card, Ray. Did one of the children down at the community center make it?" Ray spent a lot of his free time volunteering down at the local community center, working with at-risk kids.
Fraser could actually feel the heat in Ray's face as he blushed. He pulled away and looked into Ray's face, confused.
"I made the card," Ray mumbled. “The kids helped a little.”
“Ah.” Fraser walked into the kitchen and opened the junk drawer, digging around for something. He came back to the table holding a large envelope, defiantly meeting Ray's gaze. “I know what I said, but--” He broke off as Ray waved his hand around.
“It's okay. Lemme see your knife for a minute.”
Fraser handed over the knife and watched as Ray opened the two-toned envelope and took out the card. It was dark pink in color, with hearts cut out of the cardstock. The hearts were grouped together to form a larger heart. Fraser had chosen a contrasting blue paper to back the hearts. He was really quite proud of the card.
Ray fingered the front of the card before opening it up. Inside, Fraser had neatly written words that had come straight from his heart.
Ray -
This poem expresses only the
smallest part of what I
feel for you.
Love, affection, trust.
Partnership. For now and
always.
Benton
Inside, on a torn sheet of blue paper, Fraser had copied one of his favorite poems by Rumi, one that seemed to come close to how he felt about Ray. He watched as Ray slowly read the poem, watched as he blinked away tears and looked at him with such openness is his blue eyes.
Ray cleared his throat noisily. “I love you, Ben.”
“And I, you, Ray.” Fraser laughed and pulled Ray to his feet. "Well, I feel that I should properly thank you for knowing what I really want and for my Valentine's Day card. I'm sure we can think of something..." He let the sentence trail off suggestively and led Ray to the bedroom.
It was going to be a wonderful Valentine's Day, after all.
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