(no subject)

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

Um, all right, so I'm kind of over the word limit. By like, um. Fifty percent. I suck. I suck and I'm a hypocrite and a bad list Admin.

If there's a--you know, coup--I'll totally understand.



Target
by Speranza

The bar was sticky, okay, but all in all the scene wasn't half as bad as he expected. No porn movies on the TV, no beer steins that fogged up with naked women whenever they got cold, none of those horrible ashtrays that forced you to commit rape every time you stubbed out a cigarette. Just a normal dark room with normal draft beer in normal fucking glasses. Normal cheap tin ashtrays scattered around on the normal rickety tables.

All in all, pretty endurable, especially if you were smashed, which he planned to be for most of it.

Ray knocked his fingers irritably against the sticky bar and waited for the bartender to give him another normal beer. Behind him, it seemed like the music was getting louder; the voices were certainly getting louder. "Come on already!" Ray called over the pounding music. "While I'm young!"

The bartender turned and slopped a pint of dark brew onto a thin paper coaster. "Here you go--"

"And a club soda, where's the club soda?" Ray picked up his beer and slurped the foam off the top as the bartender put another glass onto the bar and filled it from the hose. "Right, okay," Ray said; he took that glass in his other hand and then stopped short. "You got lemon?"

The bartender picked a wedge of lemon out of a white plastic bucket and dropped it into the glass.

"Okay, good." Ray turned and carried both glasses toward the back room, moving carefully around the empty tables at the front of the bar. The voices got louder still as he approached--and then there was a thunderous drumming of fists on tabletops, cheers and wolf whistles and--

Oh, fuck. Strippers. He shoulda figured for strippers.

Ray sighed and paused at the entrance to the back room door, holding a glass in each hand, and watched as the three women wearing fringey orange mini-dresses danced in the center of the room, their fringe shaking wildly as they shimmied. And then two of them clustered around Tommy, (a pig in shit, grinning stupidly) reaching out for him, stroking his hair, pulling at his tie, sitting on his lap and--

Ray turned and saw that Fraser was standing way back against the wall, half turned away.

The third stripper was making the rounds of the other male guests, shaking her ass in their faces. Ray saw Dewey grin stupidly and then reach up with a hand to touch her breast--and then suddenly, all as one, the strippers stepped back and yanked at their outfits, and now they were wearing orange fringe bikinis, and the floor shook as the cops stomped and hollered.

Ray grimly took a long swig of his beer and then made a beeline for Fraser. Maybe he should have gotten Fraser a beer, too, and forced him to drink it. You couldn't survive something like this on club soda--

--and then suddenly there was a roar of laughter and the scrape of chairs and fuck!--stripper number three had got Fraser! Her long orange nails were clutching at his uniform and she was laughing and pulling him away from the wall-- and Dewey, that fuckhead! was egging her on! Fraser had gone all red-faced and shocky--like he was torn between wanting to push her away and not wanting to even so much as touch her--

--and Ray looked wildly around for a place to set down the glasses, totally enraged, totally planning on taking Dewey's scrawny ass outside and beating some fucking sense into him. He managed to offload the glasses onto a table top between two guys and turned to shove his way through the crowd of laughing cops--

The bastards. Those bastards. They knew Fraser would hate this, they knew that he'd--

--and the stripper was rubbing herself up against Fraser now, all up and down Fraser, and Fraser had gone utterly still, utterly withdrawn, like he was covered in roaches, in spiders, in mean, stinging insects--

--absolutely hate it, because that was the fucking joke, wasn't it? The joke was on Fraser, and those bastards were enjoying watching Fraser flip out--

--and the stripper clearly wasn't in on it, or maybe she was and she didn't give a shit, because she was touching Fraser's face now, mussing his hair and touching his face and smearing her makeup all over him--

"C'mon, quit it!" Ray yelled; he felt angrier than he'd ever felt in his life. "Lay off!"

--even though Fraser had his eyes shut and looked like he wanted to be a million miles away from there, a million zillion fucking--

"You lay off," Dewey retorted--and actually shoved him. "We're having a good time, so don't go giving us any of your bad fucking attitude--"

Ray grabbed him by the collar, yanked him close, hissed, "You've never seen my bad attitude--" and headbutted him as hard as he could. Dewey reeled backwards and Ray turned to the stripper and grabbed her by the upper arm, yanking her off Fraser. The men around them kept chanting, "Do it! Do it! Do it!"

"Scram, lady," Ray told her, roughly shoving her away. "Go do someone else."

She stumbled back a little on her heels and looked confused for a moment before pasting on her glamour-girl smile and going back to work, falling into the lap of a guy two tables down who yelled out in joy at his good luck. The other guys' eyes and bodies followed her, but Ray followed Fraser-- who'd melted, the second he was released, back against the wall into the very darkest corner of the room.

"You okay?" Ray murmured.

Fraser wasn't looking at him; Fraser wasn't looking at much of anything, it seemed. His head jerked in a quick nod.

Ray licked his lips nervously. "You want a drink?"

Fraser shook his head, still not meeting Ray's eyes.

"I think you should have a drink," Ray said, more firmly.

"No." Fraser half-turned his body back toward the wall. "Do you think we could...go now?"

"Yeah," Ray said instantly. "We can go. Let's go."

Fraser nodded and began to walk stiffly toward the front room, and Ray followed him. They walked out through the empty front room of the bar and pushed through the swinging wood door into the cold night air, onto the empty sidewalk.

"Car's this way," Ray said, jerking his head.

Fraser nodded and followed him to the GTO; Ray unlocked Fraser's side, and then went around to open his own door and slide in. Fraser was belted into his seat and staring fixedly out the window; Ray could see that Fraser's face was flushed red, like he had a rash or something, and there was a smear of what looked like orange lipstick on his cheek.

"You sure you're okay?" Ray wanted to touch that orange stain, to rub it off with his thumb.

Fraser didn't look at him. "I'm all right," he replied.

His hand seemed to be moving with a mind of its own, reaching for Fraser's face. "Fraser. It's okay to be--"

"I'm angry," Fraser said quietly, and Ray yanked his hand back. "I'm really quite angry."

Ray put his hands on the steering wheel and gripped tightly. "That's okay. That's totally okay."

"And...humiliated." Fraser's body seemed to go even more rigid, there in the passenger seat. "That was...very humiliating."

"I--" Ray felt his own rage rising again. "Yeah. I know."

Finally, Fraser's head turned; finally, Fraser looked at him. "Is that...typical?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Ray told him; and he was starting to feel sort of mad at Fraser now. "Better than some, in fact."

Fraser looked away again. "I don't want to know."

"No, you probably don't." Ray's voice sounded brittle and hard to his own ears.

Fraser nodded slowly, staring out the window. "Ray, how do you...?"

"You pretend, okay?" Ray said shortly, and then he reached for the key and flicked the engine on, wanting to hear it, wanting to feel power in the pedals beneath his feet. "You chug a bunch of beers and you fake it. You do not drink club soda--"

"I drink club soda," Fraser said quietly.

"--and you do not hang out in back, because it makes you look like the big fucking target that you are!" Ray slammed his hand hard against the wheel. "Look--it is what it is, all right? You do what you have to, cause if you don't--surprise!--you might meet up with an accident, okay? Somebody shoulda taught you the facts of life before now!"

And he thought that Fraser was reaching across the car for the keys, to turn the engine off, because even he knew, in some dim part of his mind, that driving while infuriated was a bad idea. But instead Fraser's hands were closing on him, fisting his jacket, clutching him rhythmically, roughly, tightly, and Fraser was kissing him. Ray wrapped long arms around Fraser and kissed him back, sucking and licking Fraser's face, gently biting Fraser's jaw and stroking and groping the powerful, hard body against his until the girl-smells of lipstick and powder were overpowered by the sharp boy-smells of wool and leather, sweat and come.

END

Comments

[lovessong.livejournal.com]

Oh, wow. Wow. . . . I don't know about everyone else, but I won't complain at all about word limit trangression, not when it's a transgression like *that*. You paint this perfect scene, and then there's the character voices, which are just so *on*, and then that last paragraph, which is hot, and visceral, and damn good.

So. I liked it. *grin*

[persian-slipper.livejournal.com]

We won't throw a coup if you keep giving us fic like that. Oh boy. The line about girl-smells and boy-smells? Classic. The description of the bar? Genius (even though it does say nasty, nasty things about our society). And Ray trying to protect Fraser? Just right.

m is a puddle of admiration, again

[mergatrude.livejournal.com]

This is why I can't stay away - superb writing that makes us feel so much. Is there anyone who didn't want to rush out and kick someone in the head? Can't help wanting them to be happy, but boy, adversity really brings out the best in them!

[maubast.livejournal.com]

I personally liked:

Ray grabbed him by the collar, yanked him close, hissed, "You've never seen my bad attitude--" and headbutted him as hard as he could.

Heh. So right. TYK.

[burntcopper.livejournal.com]

:whimpers and worships:

God,the perfection of Fraser just standing there stock-still and hating it....

[ajinamoto.livejournal.com]

Protective!Ray. I like it. I love it.

No coup's here, maybe coo's of admiration. My cat coo's, that's sweet.

Oh dear, reading fic before morning shower and coffee is not good. Comments become incoherent.

Must go...

[kassrachel.livejournal.com]

No coup here.

Fantastic description sprinkled throughout -- the ashtray thing at the beginning (hee!), Fraser trying to hide, the fringed bikinis, the stomping of cop feet, the line about Fraser being covered in insects, and then the smear of lipstick on Fraser's face in the car -- lovely, lovely.

And hey, given that you seem to write a lot of novellas in this fandom, I think holding yourself to 1500 words shows admirable restraint. *g*

[jack-pride.livejournal.com]

You made me the official word counter. My abacus reads 769 words exactly.

(I only abuse my powers for good.)

"You chug a bunch of beers and you fake it. You do not drink club soda--"

"I drink club soda," Fraser said quietly.

Yeah. You do. And we love you for it.

[countess7.livejournal.com]

This is so good! Whatever for the word limit, sometimes you just need more words!

But I love this angry, protective, violent Ray. I especially love how he feels himself getting mad at Fraser. Because he's just that *frustrated*. With what happened, with his own ease at pretending, with Fraser's refusal to pretend, and with Fraser for making him that much more *aware* of these frustrations.

I love the contradiction of Fraser utterly still while he's being groped, this image of complete inaction, versus the passion he displays with Ray in the car. The way he just goes for it. Its all about what he does and doesn't want.

Also, headbutting!Ray? Always a pleasure to see him.

[laurakaye.livejournal.com]

::sniff::

Amazing, how they can be pissed off to hell and gone and still be such WOOBIES.

I heart them. I heart you.

[aerye.livejournal.com]

Yeah. 'Cause we're really gonna object when you write an extra 500 words.

Lordy, this is wonderful. I'm just so suddenly reminded of everything I love about Fraser, his restraint, his conviction, his unwillingness to let the sordid bits of life stain him. His passion. I've been thinking so much about the Rays lately that this was just a wonderful visceral reminder of how much I adore Fraser.

Thank you!

[lamardeuse.livejournal.com]

The only coup I'd be interested in is one where we overthrow our capitalist oppressors and the government pays you to produce this stuff full-time. I love the way you set up a scene with such amazing detail, and infuse the descriptions with such emotion.

I too am addicted to ProtectiveRay. It's one of his sexiest qualities.

[tinriddick.livejournal.com]

What am I supposed to be complaining about again? The story was great so that can't be it. It was very well written, sex and violence mixed nicely. I don't know are you sure you want to be overthrown as the fearless leader? 'Cause, ya' know if that's the case your going about it the wrong way posting this :D.
Loved it! Sorry for the weirdness.

[jenboo.livejournal.com]

this just aches with the frustration of having to keep essential parts of oneself secret and how ingrained that can become. How Fraser has never really tried very hard to hide himself, but Ray is so good at it because he knows what can happen to a city cop who doesn't play like everyone else does. It made me squirm in a bad way for Fraser with the stripper while everyone but Ray was having a great time laughing at him. Then it made me squirm in a good way when the girl smells were gone.
And the intercutting of Ray seeing the scene and Ray thinking about what was happening. Loved it.
You know, it's a wonder neither RayK or Fraser have ulcers...

[shayheyred.livejournal.com]

"I'm angry," Fraser said quietly, and Ray yanked his hand back. "I'm really quite angry."

How fascinating to see his complete repression of anger, until he can release it in passion with Ray. Ray can't hide his feelings. Fraser can only hide his. They really do fulfill each other's needs perfectly.

Great piece.

[bethbethbeth.livejournal.com]

Thank heavens for this community - even stories the ungodly length of yours (*g*) can be read in between student conferences!

Lovely stuff, Ces.

[spacebrat.livejournal.com]

I don't think anyone's complaining, here. No coup. No complaints, and no coup. <33333

I think this is really good, by the way. ;) As much as I hate saying I love the pain Ray is in, on Fraser's behalf, I do love it because there's so much feeling there. He's such a good Ray, isn't he?

[moxie-brown.livejournal.com]

Ditto what everyone's said. Just loved Fraser's innability to bend to the tawdryness of the bar, and then they way he reaches for Ray, so damn good.

I want to be you when I grow up. Not to say you're old or anything, just you know....I think I'll stop writing now.

[ajinamoto.livejournal.com]

Fraser didn't look at him. "I'm all right," he replied.

ACK!

From Translating Fahrenheit to Celsius

"I'm all right," meant that he was bleeding and his intestines were hanging out of his abdomen;

I don't know, should I worry that I have most of your stories practically memorized? That little paragraph was one of my favorites.

[akite.livejournal.com]

I can't really add anything to what everybody else has said. It was a thing of stunning beauty in that hurty kind of way that you do so well, Speranza.

[lynnmonster.livejournal.com]

I loved the buildup of Ray's apprehension and the way you captured the so-called "friendly ribbing" vibe. I thought Fraser's reaction was *perfectly* Fraser. I thought Ray's response beautifully illustrated the way he's made Fraser his priority.

And then they get it on!

I'm a very happy lynnmonster.

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much! I do feel like a hypocrite, though, but I couldn't get it down further, and I'm really digging the idea of posting something, anything, once a week. I've got to thank Terri in particular for the hot and visceral last scene--she made me rewrite after my first draft and the new ending was better.

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

I think that's a very real part of our society, unfortunately, and I think it gets worse than that. And I think Ray would be furious on Fraser's behalf, because it would be personal--you could *see* where someone would think it was funny to get Mr. Polite involved in a scene like that. And there'd probably be not a little homophobia involved in the gesture; there always is.

Re: m is a puddle of admiration, again

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

Hee! thank you! I always feel like adversity always brings out the best of Ray, in particular--he gets angry the way Mulder cries, you know. Gorgeously.

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

Heh. Power, Bast. Ray K angry is a wondrous, sexy thang.

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

I don't think he could do anything else. His response to unwanted female attention seems to be paralysis, from what I remember, followed by a quick escape. For this, though, I literally painted him into a corner, so I think his only route of escape would be inward, if you see what I mean. Anyway, thanks and I'm so glad you liked!

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

You're welcome, sweet mousie!

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

Protective!Ray. I like it. I love it.

So does Fraser. *g* So do I, also--Ray protecting Fraser The Protector! is one of my major, major kinks.

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

the ashtray thing at the beginning (hee!),

Actually, those ashtrays exist, and my reaction wasn't "hee!" but pure, unadulterated rage. I was so fucking offended I can't even stand it. You had to jam your cigarette into the stragically placed hole, and I thought--and not for the first time--"my god, how men hate us."

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

You made me the official word counter. My abacus reads 769 words exactly.

Ces gleefully hands you a nameplate for your desk, a bunch of memo-pads, and a official contract as Official Word Counter of DS_Flashfiction.

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

Ohhhh, thank you. What beautiful feedback--I'm so appreciative. Because yes and yes and yes. Exactly right about the frustration: there's just that tiniest moment of blame the victim that Ray has because Fraser's refusal to participate makes him have to confront the situation when his whole game plan was to avoid it. And yes, too, about the inaction vs. action--Fraser isn't a passionless person (though I'd bet the officers at the party wouldn't believe it). As you say, it's very much a matter of specific wants (as well as consideration for other human beings--even if Fraser were straight, I can't imagine him ever feeling comfortable in this kind of situation--which is at least as degrading for the women as for him.) Again: thank you!

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

I used woobie for the first time in a sentence today. *g* I thought of you. Smooch!

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

You're totally sweet! (Anyone who says different? Let's set them on fire!! *g*)

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

Power, sister. I adore Fraser so much that sometimes it's difficult for me to articulate it--it's so much more complicated an affection than what I feel for RayK. But Fraser is the one who drives me in this fandom, not in a BSO way (Ray's my BSO) but in a gut-wrenching more sublime, spiritual, soaring kind of way. Guh.

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

Protective Ray is a sexy, sexy beast, yessiree bob. And thank you so much for threatening a Socialist Revolution on my behalf. I think that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. *g*

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

What am I supposed to be complaining about again?

Er--nothing! Never mind! (If you can't remember, I certainly won't remind you!) I'm so glad you liked it, and I thank you for posting!

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

How Fraser has never really tried very hard to hide himself, but Ray is so good at it because he knows what can happen to a city cop who doesn't play like everyone else does.

Well put, thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed the story--and I wouldn't be surprised to find out that the RayK in this story *does* have ulcers, come to think of it. From the frustration of coping in this kind of system. I can totally see that. Thanks for writing!

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

Thank you, Shay! And yes--complimentary neuroses! TM is also one of my kinks. They're exceedingly well suited in that regard. And also, I have to think that Fraser's lurve for Ray just couldn't help but spill over in that moment. There are so many good reasons for Fraser to be just helplessly in love with Ray right then.

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

Totally, yeah, Beth. Flashfiction is turning out to be the Snickers Bar of the fandom world--quick, but strangely satisfying, and, er, packed with nuts.

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

He is a really, really good boy, this Ray. Yes, indeedy.

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I can't see Fraser bending to a situation like this, not one jot. It can only be painful to him, on several fronts--there's too much indignity there for him not to be suffering. And he's not the kind to numb his moral sensibility with booze.

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

(cough) (cough, cough)

Okay, you win the award for Most Anally Attentive Reader Of My Work, and let me tell you why. Both Translating Fahrenheit to Celsius and Target were rejected scenarios for what eventually became The Bodyguard, so well done in your sniffing! The two quotes that you've put back to back up there were, in fact, back to back in the original draft. Brava for close reading!

I first set what became "Bodyguard" in a men's room (and then I didn't like that, though some of those men's room scenes ended up in Eight Sessions, for anyone playing along at home ) and then I tried setting it at this here bachelor party (but the betas didn't like that--plus this version of the story got very bleak, very fast, which is fine for a short piece but who wants to live in this world for 115K? Not me, which is the important thing) and so then try number three--(or maybe even four, I don't remember,) started with Ray watching hockey in a bar and tried to leven the heaviness of the theme (violation, harassment) with some farce and Olga and other stuff. But yeah, I have reams and reams of cut scenes from every story I write and I'm really impressed that you noticed that these pieces came out of the same conceptual universe. Cooooool.

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

stunning beauty in that hurty kind of way

I just like saying that. Great phrase! I'm so flattered! beam!!

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

My goal in life is to make you a happy lynnmonster. Partly because I'm terrified of what an unhappy lynnmonster would look like! quake! But seriously, there's nothing friendly in this kind of "friendly ribbing", if you ask me--it's meant to humiliate and hurt. And Ray just gets all feral--I love me some feral Ray, my God.

[ajinamoto.livejournal.com]

Most Anally Attentive

Hey, that's my middle name. I prefer to say I'm very observant.

Yes, I'm an observer. And unique.

Ahem.

Re: Target

[yeungmaisu.livejournal.com]

First of all, your description of this type of bar, is exactly correct; as a roadie for my best friend's band before her career took off, I've been to places just like this and the atmosphere, was very, very hateful. Furthermore, the behavior of aggressive, drunken men in groups and how they 'attack' what they perceive as different or weaker under the guise of humor can be most frightening - and you learn to protect yourself very, very quickly. Because if you don't, you end up just like Fraser here, a walking target. Thank you so much for posting this. I find it one of the more emotionally honest fics I've read recently.

Re: Target

[cesperanza.livejournal.com]

First of all, your description of this type of bar, is exactly correct; as a roadie for my best friend's band before her career took off, I've been to places just like this and the atmosphere, was very, very hateful.
Yeah. Spent some time in places like this myself, though a lot depends on the people--the malevolence comes from the people.

Furthermore, the behavior of aggressive, drunken men in groups--
Bingo.

Thank you so much for posting this. I find it one of the more emotionally honest fics I've read recently.
You're so very welcome, and thank you so much for saying so!

[arrow00.livejournal.com]

Oh, that ashtray line is violently perfect.

Also, Fraser's shock and horror (spiders!), Ray's protectiveness, and even Ray's anger at Fraser's naivete for not knowing, or perhaps not acknowledging the necessity of playing the game. This is perfectly in keeping with canon (i.e., Fraser's reaction to Warfield) but in a different, fabulous new context.

Just brilliant.

>until the girl-smells of lipstick and powder were overpowered by the sharp boy-smells of wool and leather, sweat and come<

Beautiful. I can't help but feel a little guilty, because I'm a girl, after all (not that I wear makeup), but the above gave me such a fierce pang of satisfaction for them both. Maybe there is something inherently misogynistic in the way I adore slash?

But the ending is so painfully right.

I am slowly wending my way (alphabetically, of course) through the ds_flashfiction challenges, and I must incidentally thank you for being admin and evangelist and encouraging so many wonderful dS stories to be written. Especially your own. :)