ds_flashfiction | So Many Directions

I hope i've done better with the directions for posting...thanks for letting me play :-) About 1015 words with the recipe.

I followed Ray as he wandered the aisles of the grocery. Watching him shop was like watching him in any other endeavor – simultaneously amazing, amusing, and tiring. He eschewed the use of a shopping cart, saying he could get in and out faster with a hand-held basket. They don’t count the items in of them, he told me gleefully, and you don’t have to worry about the wheels going different directions. No, I thought to myself, you only had to worry about Ray going in different directions, as he went back up the baking aisle for what must be the third time. Any direction but mine, it seemed.

“Where are they hiding it?” Ray muttered to himself.

“Hiding what?” I asked, although I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Ray ignored me anyway. The basket he was waiving about had some apples (that I requested), pop tarts, 3 frozen pound cakes, a quart of sour cream, instant coffee, ketchup, peanut butter, hot dogs and a loaf of white bread. We had stopped at the grocery on the way to Ray’s apartment. Tomorrow was to be a surprise birthday party for Francesca, and Ray had surprised myself and everyone else in the squad room by saying he would bring the cake. Ray would bring the cake? But so far, I could make no sense out of his shopping choices, beyond the pound cake. Maybe he was taking it plain? Unlikely, knowing Ray.

“Here it is, hiding behind marshmallows. Ha, I found you. Fraser, take note.” Before I could even respond, Ray had bestowed a quick, one-armed hug about my shoulders. I tried to interpret his behavior, but he was down the aisle toward the check out stands. I had wondering what he meant by “take note,” and why he had hugged me. More and more Ray has been making these odd comments that one could interpret to mean he was interested in me as more than a partner, especially when coupled with the touches and hugs that were also more plentiful. I’m afraid I’m reading subtext into the most innocuous behaviors because I want Ray.

As we walked to the car, I asked, “What do you plan to make for the cake?” I only got a grin and a sideways look from him. “All will be revealed,” he answered. Dief barked in agreement. Surely Ray hadn’t confided in Diefenbaker, had he?

I had to admit, my curiosity was almost getting out of control. For some reason, the vision of Ray cooking made my own body’s temperature rise. But then, thinking about Ray doing almost anything brought about that same response.

We arrived at Ray’s building. He carted his belongings upstairs. My eyes followed Ray while Dief snuffled at my hand. It was certainly past time for our evening walk. I grudgingly nodded to Deif and he took off for the park. I would rather watch Ray make his cake than follow through on my responsibility to Dief. I would soon need to deal with my whims.

I hurried Dief through his walk, anxious to get back to the apartment. When I arrived, I smelled chocolate. No surprise, this was Ray. That must have been the ingredient he had difficulty locating. I saw pound cake sliced into layers, and based upon the empty containers, filled with a mixture of chocolate and sour cream. How simple. How rich. How Ray.

“Come here, Fraser.” Ray called me toward the kitchen area. He proffered two fingers coated in melted chocolate. “Taste this.” Ray gave me a wicked grin along with the fingers. I hesitated. While our touching had certainly increased of late, this was not easily shrugged aside as a friendly offer. Just as his fingers were coated with the chocolate sour cream mixture, this offer was coated with meaning – but just what that meaning was, I couldn’t say. I held back.

“You want me to … lick your fingers?” I asked, my voice a bit shaky and lower than normal. I hoped Ray wouldn’t notice, but knew he would.

“Least you can figure my fingers are clean and taste pretty good,” Ray retorted. The look in Ray’s eyes told me that he had meant every comment, every touch that lead to this moment. Part gentling, part seduction, part amusement – going in so many different directions at one time. It was too many directions, too difficult to follow. “Come on, Ben, go for it,” he whispered.

Yes, this offer was coated with meaning. Yes, I wanted to taste, not just that chocolate, but all that Ray was so gently, so freely, offering. And yet I held back. Was I misreading Ray because I wanted it this so very much?

“Ben. I know what I want. I want you. In all ways. Loving together, Living together. Working together. We’re two really different people, but we blend. I love you. I know you love me. Let go and know I’ll be there.”

I took his fingers and brought them to my mouth, licking off the mixture. Ray pulled his fingers out of my mouth, put his hand on my neck and pulled me in to taste him. Soft, deep, gentle, passionate, so many different directions at one time, just like Ray. And for once, I was able to follow along without any difficulty at all.

Torte
This is a remembered version of a recipe from a church recipe book my mother had. I don’t know if it is the exact recipe, but it’s what I take when I have to take dessert. It’s easy, yummy, and well, easy.

Take a frozen Sara Lee pound cake and cut it into 3 or 4 horizontal layers. Melt 8 oz of German’s chocolate, let cool (completely). Add cooled chocolate to 8 oz of sour cream that has been sitting out for a little bit. Fill and frost the pound cake layers with the chocolate sour cream. Note: if you try to mix the chocolate before it has cooled with cold sour cream, it doesn’t mix well and looks more like Dalmatian icing.