Fanfic: "The Bodyguard" by Cesperanza . [Fraser/Kowalski, gen] . [N8]
First read:2008
Second read: 26.12.2009 (Even better)
Comments: Fandom is a safe haven, a happy place, and so, very few stories delve into homophobia this deeply. You get homophobic characters and reactions and subplots but “The Bodyguard” is about homophobia and heterocentrism. And about having no options, about lying either to yourself or to others, about being more than one thing and not being allowed to be all of those at once. And about having the guts to be yourself, and finding someone to be yourself with. Being a dS fic is also desperately funny at turns, ridiculously painful and then simply ridiculous.
Quotes (with important spoilers):
Ds. Fraser didn't reply to this; he seemed really intent on getting out whatever it was he wanted to say. "I think it's...difficult to behave admirably. I think that circumstances make it difficult to behave admirably. That's part of...that's one of the things that..." It was odd, totally weird, to hear Fraser stumble over words. "That's essentially what oppression means," he said, finally.
Now it was Ray's turn to frown and shake his head. "I don't follow you..."
"Having no options," Fraser said softly, leaning forward over the table. "Or having only a few options, all of them bad. Being forced to lie, only to be branded a liar. Needing to be secretive, and then being accused of deceit. What does admirable behavior even look like under such circumstances? The only respectable position seems to be one of self-denial-and that itself is a species of what you would call chickenshit, isn't it?"
Ds. Fraser was struggling for words again, and if it'd been a half-decent world, Ray would have reached out and touched his hand. But it wasn't, and so he didn't; instead, he just waited patiently, and put on his most encouraging look.
Ds. And then, mouths only inches apart, he stopped-because here was the crux of the thing, knowing Fraser, loving Fraser the way he did. "Can you live with this?" Ray whispered. "Can you live with the lying?- active lying, Fraser, not omission, not just silence like before. Cause you know that's what it's gonna take, that it's the only way. Sooner or later we're gonna have to lie something fierce, and-"
"Yes," Fraser said levelly.
Ray's eyes narrowed. "Yes, what?"
"Yes, I can live with it." There was an edge in Fraser's voice that seemed entirely new, a tone he wouldn't ever have imagined hearing from Fraser twenty-four hours ago. "What about you?"
"Me?" Ray's lips tightened into a sneer. "I'm a professional liar, Fraser-I lie for a living, I'm so good at it. If we do this thing, being with you, that will be, like, closer to the truth of me than anything else in years. It's you I'm worried about, cause you hate this, I know how you hate this-"
"There are things I hate more," Fraser said quietly.
"-and I don't want you to hate me, Fraser," Ray continued, tightening his hand on Fraser's arm, "because like you said at the restaurant, that's how oppression works. Where we have to lie and then you hate me for makin' you into a liar-"
Suddenly Fraser's hand was gripping the back of his neck, and Fraser was kissing him hungrily. Ray opened his mouth and let Fraser's tongue glide sloppily against his. They kissed for a long time, lost in the dreamy, dizzy bliss of it, and reality seemed a rude, harsh thing when they finally separated, mouths slick with each other.
Ds. and then she and Fraser resumed their conversation, talking about cold and snow and what it was like to abandon everything to go and live in another culture where everything was totally different. Feeling like an outsider, a weirdo, a freak-and it was funny, but he'd lived his whole life in Chicago, and still he felt like a freak, so maybe it didn't have anything to do with where you were living, that feeling. He wanted to maybe throw that idea into the pot, except somebody had wrapped his head in concrete when he wasn't looking. He also wanted to tell them that he thought they were pretty damn lucky actually, because privately he thought it might be nice to just chuck everything and go somewhere else. He wanted to tell them that deep down he was maybe a bit jealous, because they'd each of them done something pretty fucking adventurous, had set off bravely into a new world. In that way, neither of them were chickenshit, not like he was. He was the real poultry here, still living less than fifteen miles from where he'd grown up, still trapped in a life where too many of the edges bit and pinched. Even his parents, his fucking parents, had piled into their Winnebago and gone west. Would he ever get his chance? He was getting old now, and he despaired of it.
2009, 2009: due south fic, due south fic, fanfic-2009, @read in english, fanfiction, due south fic: Fraser/Kowalski, [quotes], [quotes] fanfiction, [quotes] due south, *fanfic-novelette-2009, due south fic: recs, 2008, fanfic-2008, fanfic: read2
Second read: 26.12.2009 (Even better)
Comments: Fandom is a safe haven, a happy place, and so, very few stories delve into homophobia this deeply. You get homophobic characters and reactions and subplots but “The Bodyguard” is about homophobia and heterocentrism. And about having no options, about lying either to yourself or to others, about being more than one thing and not being allowed to be all of those at once. And about having the guts to be yourself, and finding someone to be yourself with. Being a dS fic is also desperately funny at turns, ridiculously painful and then simply ridiculous.
Quotes (with important spoilers):
Ds. Fraser didn't reply to this; he seemed really intent on getting out whatever it was he wanted to say. "I think it's...difficult to behave admirably. I think that circumstances make it difficult to behave admirably. That's part of...that's one of the things that..." It was odd, totally weird, to hear Fraser stumble over words. "That's essentially what oppression means," he said, finally.
Now it was Ray's turn to frown and shake his head. "I don't follow you..."
"Having no options," Fraser said softly, leaning forward over the table. "Or having only a few options, all of them bad. Being forced to lie, only to be branded a liar. Needing to be secretive, and then being accused of deceit. What does admirable behavior even look like under such circumstances? The only respectable position seems to be one of self-denial-and that itself is a species of what you would call chickenshit, isn't it?"
Ds. Fraser was struggling for words again, and if it'd been a half-decent world, Ray would have reached out and touched his hand. But it wasn't, and so he didn't; instead, he just waited patiently, and put on his most encouraging look.
Ds. And then, mouths only inches apart, he stopped-because here was the crux of the thing, knowing Fraser, loving Fraser the way he did. "Can you live with this?" Ray whispered. "Can you live with the lying?- active lying, Fraser, not omission, not just silence like before. Cause you know that's what it's gonna take, that it's the only way. Sooner or later we're gonna have to lie something fierce, and-"
"Yes," Fraser said levelly.
Ray's eyes narrowed. "Yes, what?"
"Yes, I can live with it." There was an edge in Fraser's voice that seemed entirely new, a tone he wouldn't ever have imagined hearing from Fraser twenty-four hours ago. "What about you?"
"Me?" Ray's lips tightened into a sneer. "I'm a professional liar, Fraser-I lie for a living, I'm so good at it. If we do this thing, being with you, that will be, like, closer to the truth of me than anything else in years. It's you I'm worried about, cause you hate this, I know how you hate this-"
"There are things I hate more," Fraser said quietly.
"-and I don't want you to hate me, Fraser," Ray continued, tightening his hand on Fraser's arm, "because like you said at the restaurant, that's how oppression works. Where we have to lie and then you hate me for makin' you into a liar-"
Suddenly Fraser's hand was gripping the back of his neck, and Fraser was kissing him hungrily. Ray opened his mouth and let Fraser's tongue glide sloppily against his. They kissed for a long time, lost in the dreamy, dizzy bliss of it, and reality seemed a rude, harsh thing when they finally separated, mouths slick with each other.
Ds. and then she and Fraser resumed their conversation, talking about cold and snow and what it was like to abandon everything to go and live in another culture where everything was totally different. Feeling like an outsider, a weirdo, a freak-and it was funny, but he'd lived his whole life in Chicago, and still he felt like a freak, so maybe it didn't have anything to do with where you were living, that feeling. He wanted to maybe throw that idea into the pot, except somebody had wrapped his head in concrete when he wasn't looking. He also wanted to tell them that he thought they were pretty damn lucky actually, because privately he thought it might be nice to just chuck everything and go somewhere else. He wanted to tell them that deep down he was maybe a bit jealous, because they'd each of them done something pretty fucking adventurous, had set off bravely into a new world. In that way, neither of them were chickenshit, not like he was. He was the real poultry here, still living less than fifteen miles from where he'd grown up, still trapped in a life where too many of the edges bit and pinched. Even his parents, his fucking parents, had piled into their Winnebago and gone west. Would he ever get his chance? He was getting old now, and he despaired of it.
2009, 2009: due south fic, due south fic, fanfic-2009, @read in english, fanfiction, due south fic: Fraser/Kowalski, [quotes], [quotes] fanfiction, [quotes] due south, *fanfic-novelette-2009, due south fic: recs, 2008, fanfic-2008, fanfic: read2