ds_aprilfools Prompt 07 - Caress
Prompt - 07. Caress
Fandom - Due South
Characters - Ray K, Ray V.
Warnings - language
Rated PG - 13
A sort of prequel to a story I wrote last year called The Man WHo Has Everything.
Caress
Ray ran his hand along the slickness of the paintwork. It was almost frictionless like the ice that forms on still water. He knew every inch of this paintjob, because he had been there for every coat. His Mom had laughed and said he looked as nervous as his father had, standing outside the maternity ward when Ray’d been born. His Dad had given him a roll of his eyes and Ray had grinned at that. Mom had never understood the car thing he and his Dad had had going.
He crouched down and ran a finger along the curve of the wheel-arch, instinctively testing for rough patches that might indicate corrosion, or excessive dust that might point to a brake imbalance, but of course, there was none. He laid his head against the cool metal and looked along the line of the car, glinting even in this low November light. It was perfect - a subtle curve, a plane of bird’s wing black, like a shadow of nothing. Even the name “Gran Turismo Omologato’ sounded enigmatic, sexy, almost dangerous.
Ray stood and stepped back, his eye sweeping from the hood to the taillights, a small smile on his face. This was the car he’d taken Stella to their prom in. This was the car he’d told himself he missed more than his parents when they’d left. This was the car he and Stella had taken that stupid camping trip in when they’d first got married, when they were broke, and it had rained so hard that they’d spent the night in the back seat, dry but getting no sleep at all. Which hadn’t been so bad as it had turned out.
He and his Dad had spent hours of their weekends working on the bodywork, the engine, the transmission - only to start again from the beginning once it was finished. He’d never felt closer to his father than when they were both greasy and tired from a long afternoon in the garage, sitting on the step and drinking lemonade as the sun went down.
But they were just memories - important memories, and good to have but they weren’t tangible, they wouldn’t keep him warm when he got cold, or reassure him when he got scared. They wouldn’t love him when he got old.
“Okay… okay, I’m… I’m done,” Ray said with one last fingertip to the hood.
Vecchio detached himself from the wall of his family home, where he’d been leaning. “You sure?” he asked, without a trace of the usual sarcasm he reserved for Ray.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure.”
Vecchio came and stood beside him, both gazes riveted on the Pontiac.
“I’ll take care of her, I promise,” he said quietly.
Ray turned to look at his ex-wife’s new husband and knew that they were talking about a lot more than his paintjob here.
“You better.”
“I will!”
“You better!”
“I will!”
“Okay.”
“So, you’re really gonna do this? Really?” Vecchio asked, his voice getting higher as he fought to suppress a grin.
“Yeah, I really am. And if he kicks me out on my ass, I’m coming back for my car.”
“Did he drop you into a lot of dumpsters on your head or something Kowalski? Because this? This is insanity of almost Benny sized proportions.” The bite of his words was neutralised by the broad smile that had broken through.
Ray shrugged.
“Good luck, man,” Vecchio said with a bemused shake of his head. “Tell Benny I said hi.”
Ray dug out his spare key from his pocket and passed it to Vecchio. Because this was also the car that he’d been on stakeouts and fallen in love with one RCMP Constable Benton Fraser in. And Fraser lived further north than fucking Nanook. And the Goat? Well she just wasn’t up for that.
“Tell Stella hi from me too, ‘kay?”
Vecchio nodded and watched as Ray climbed into the shiny, new red SUV, started the engine and pulled smoothly away.
Ray waited until he reached the end of the road before he looked back in the rear-view mirror. Vecchio was crouched down beside the offside wheel and was running an appreciative hand along the wing.
Ray turned toward the interstate and a whole new bunch of memories in the making.
Fin
Fandom - Due South
Characters - Ray K, Ray V.
Warnings - language
Rated PG - 13
A sort of prequel to a story I wrote last year called The Man WHo Has Everything.
Caress
Ray ran his hand along the slickness of the paintwork. It was almost frictionless like the ice that forms on still water. He knew every inch of this paintjob, because he had been there for every coat. His Mom had laughed and said he looked as nervous as his father had, standing outside the maternity ward when Ray’d been born. His Dad had given him a roll of his eyes and Ray had grinned at that. Mom had never understood the car thing he and his Dad had had going.
He crouched down and ran a finger along the curve of the wheel-arch, instinctively testing for rough patches that might indicate corrosion, or excessive dust that might point to a brake imbalance, but of course, there was none. He laid his head against the cool metal and looked along the line of the car, glinting even in this low November light. It was perfect - a subtle curve, a plane of bird’s wing black, like a shadow of nothing. Even the name “Gran Turismo Omologato’ sounded enigmatic, sexy, almost dangerous.
Ray stood and stepped back, his eye sweeping from the hood to the taillights, a small smile on his face. This was the car he’d taken Stella to their prom in. This was the car he’d told himself he missed more than his parents when they’d left. This was the car he and Stella had taken that stupid camping trip in when they’d first got married, when they were broke, and it had rained so hard that they’d spent the night in the back seat, dry but getting no sleep at all. Which hadn’t been so bad as it had turned out.
He and his Dad had spent hours of their weekends working on the bodywork, the engine, the transmission - only to start again from the beginning once it was finished. He’d never felt closer to his father than when they were both greasy and tired from a long afternoon in the garage, sitting on the step and drinking lemonade as the sun went down.
But they were just memories - important memories, and good to have but they weren’t tangible, they wouldn’t keep him warm when he got cold, or reassure him when he got scared. They wouldn’t love him when he got old.
“Okay… okay, I’m… I’m done,” Ray said with one last fingertip to the hood.
Vecchio detached himself from the wall of his family home, where he’d been leaning. “You sure?” he asked, without a trace of the usual sarcasm he reserved for Ray.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure.”
Vecchio came and stood beside him, both gazes riveted on the Pontiac.
“I’ll take care of her, I promise,” he said quietly.
Ray turned to look at his ex-wife’s new husband and knew that they were talking about a lot more than his paintjob here.
“You better.”
“I will!”
“You better!”
“I will!”
“Okay.”
“So, you’re really gonna do this? Really?” Vecchio asked, his voice getting higher as he fought to suppress a grin.
“Yeah, I really am. And if he kicks me out on my ass, I’m coming back for my car.”
“Did he drop you into a lot of dumpsters on your head or something Kowalski? Because this? This is insanity of almost Benny sized proportions.” The bite of his words was neutralised by the broad smile that had broken through.
Ray shrugged.
“Good luck, man,” Vecchio said with a bemused shake of his head. “Tell Benny I said hi.”
Ray dug out his spare key from his pocket and passed it to Vecchio. Because this was also the car that he’d been on stakeouts and fallen in love with one RCMP Constable Benton Fraser in. And Fraser lived further north than fucking Nanook. And the Goat? Well she just wasn’t up for that.
“Tell Stella hi from me too, ‘kay?”
Vecchio nodded and watched as Ray climbed into the shiny, new red SUV, started the engine and pulled smoothly away.
Ray waited until he reached the end of the road before he looked back in the rear-view mirror. Vecchio was crouched down beside the offside wheel and was running an appreciative hand along the wing.
Ray turned toward the interstate and a whole new bunch of memories in the making.
Fin