ds_flashfiction | Ice, by Kassrachel

kassrachel.livejournal.com posting in

Since I suggested the challenge, I figure I ought to respond this time. *g*

sihayab says this one's good enough to post, so here 'tis! I present five linked drabbles on the theme of ice.

Ice

I. Rink

"No -- no -- no, wait, yes, yes!" Fraser hovered on the edge of the couch, body tensed, as the shot was deflected, skittered across the rink, zipped from here to there, flew into the air at the clash of sticks, and beautifully, improbably, sailed into the goal.

Ray sneaked a glance at Fraser. His face was flushed, his eyes were bright, he looked...more edible than usual.

Ray couldn't help imagining him that animated, that excited, naked, against Ray's own sheets.

Now Ray was flushed.

"Hell of a shot," he said, trying to get his mind back on the ice.

II. Fields

Expanses of glacier, gleaming in the sun. A team of dogs harnessed to a sled, curled into circles, each half-covered by blowing snow. A landscape of ice, peaks and ridges, topped by the weird watercolors of the Northern Lights.

Ray stood in front of the Discovery store for almost fifteen minutes, staring at the posters. Wondering whether that was what it looked like where Fraser came from. Wondering whether Fraser would dig one. Wondering whether he was supposed to be getting Fraser a Christmas gift anyway.

In the end he bought postcard-sized ones, and hung them on his own fridge.

III. Cream

"Only Eskimoes eat ice cream in January, Fraser."

"Inuit," Fraser corrected, though Ray could hear that he was smiling. He knew Ray was just messing with him.

"Whatever."

"And historically-speaking, ice cream didn't reach most Inuit communities until--"

"My point was, you're a freak."

"Understood."

They sat on a bench to eat. Somehow Fraser's cone stayed symmetrical as he licked it.

Ray was slurping his, because it was dripping. He was trying not to watch Fraser's tongue.

When he glanced over, Fraser's cheeks were pink. From the cold, probably.

Ray wished it were because Fraser was watching his tongue, too.

IV. Pack

"Ow, that's cold," Ray said, yanking the bag of frozen peas off his temple.

Fraser scowled. "You're going to have quite an egg there."

"Whether or not I ice it," Ray retorted. "So I might as well be comfortable now."

Fraser muttered "suit yourself" and went to put the kettle on.

"At least we got the guy," Ray called into the kitchen.

"True."

"Bet nobody's icing his bruises tonight," Ray said, thinking of DiLuca in lockup with grim satisfaction.

And actually he kind of liked that Fraser fussed over him when he got hurt. Wasn't about to admit it, though.

V. House

"This is seriously cool," Ray said, again. Fraser grinned and kept placing blocks.

The igloo was finished by dinnertime. They rehydrated some stew, then curled into their bags.

"I guess we'd be okay if we lost the tent, long as you didn't mind building these every night."

"I could teach you," Fraser offered.

"It might take me a while to learn."

"I have all the time in the world." Words chosen carefully.

They weren't talking about the igloo anymore.

"Me too," Ray said.

Fraser smiled at him, full of promise.

A shard of ice Ray hadn't known he'd swallowed, thawed.