999 words!
May. 16th, 2003 11:51 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
lamardeuse.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfiction...phew!
Nothing to See
by lamardeuse
"Hey, you don't have any curtains."
Fraser looked up momentarily from his task of carving an intricate pineapple design into the wooden bedpost. Since they lacked the conveniences of a modern workshop, the tools he used were simple, and the square, solid timber he carved was braced between his knees. Fraser didn't mind; this way, the pine was a living thing beneath his hands as he worked, subdued by skilled fingers and brute force.
Despite his initial grumblings about the shameful lack of power tools, Ray's carpentry skills adapted quickly to the hacksaw and hand plane. Over the past several weeks, Fraser had watched out of the corner of his eye as the other man transformed raw lumber into simple, clean-lined pieces of functional art. Fraser, of course, provided the finishing touches, adding a curve here or a carving there to complement the original form.
His thumb traced over his work so far; despite the deep cuts he had made, he fancied he could still feel the evidence of Ray's deft hands in the grain of the--
"Earth to Fraser."
"Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry, Ray."
He had to stop this mental somnambulism, stay focused and alert to enjoy what little time remained. Ray's leave would be up in another three days, and the new cabin he had helped to build would stand, a testament to their friendship.
And Fraser would inhabit it alone, a testament to his own cowardice.
"I can't believe you forgot ‘em--what happened to that Mountie attention-to-detail thing, huh?" Ray stood up suddenly, as if jet-propelled. "I'll head into town and get you some. I'd ask you what kind, but I'd guess they haven't got much of a selection. There'd be the tartan, or the tartan, or the tartan." He whirled in place, taking in the room. "Let's see, you got--one, two, three--"
"What are you talking about, Ray?"
The other man laughed. "Jeez, you were spaced out. Curtains, Frase. C-u-r-t-a-i-n-s." He began ticking off on his long fingers. "We got blankets, sheets, pillows, dishes, knives, forks, spoons, pots, pans--oh, make that pot, pan--rugs, oil lamps, but we didn't get curtains."
Fraser shook his head. "I didn't buy curtains because I don't need them."
"Whaddaya mean? Everybody needs curtains."
"Their insulating properties are highly overrated. With proper storm--"
"Insulating, schminsulating," Ray said. "What about keepin' things private? You don't want people staring in at you."
Fraser frowned. "My nearest neighbour is five miles away. I don't imagine I'll need to worry about my privacy."
Ray rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that makes sense, sure. Only we're stuck a hundred feet down an ice crevasse in the middle of East Nowhere, and we get Grizzly Adams just happening by to rescue us. As a vast, empty wilderness, Frase, this place doesn't live up to the rep."
"Actually," Fraser began, "there's a logical explanation--"
"Shut up," Ray said, waving a playful finger under his nose. "I am going outside, I am hitching up the dogs, because God help me, I know how to do that now, I am mushing to the Hudson's Bay One-Stop Shopping Superstore, and I am buying you the fanciest tartan curtains I can find." Ray straightened and dropped his hand to his side. When he spoke again, his voice was almost too low to hear. "Consider it my parting gift to you and your cabin in the wilderness."
Fraser looked up at him. His legs ached from the unforgiving pressure of the wood. His head swam with scraps of bantering conversation, bright flashes of quicksilver smiles, memories of touch and warmth. His heart tumbled over itself in its haste to escape the confines of his chest.
Dimly, he heard the heavy timber fall to the floor as he rose to stand before Ray.
"I don't want a parting gift." Had he spoken aloud?
Ray's mouth opened, then closed. "But I want to give you one. I want you to remember me."
I don't want to remember you.
Had he spoken aloud?
"Frase? What is it?"
"I--" Fraser took a deep breath. "I don't need curtains."
Ray's face darkened. "Why can't you just--" He turned abruptly, and the sight of his retreating back was enough to trigger the torrent. Fraser lunged forward, and in an instant his hand was on Ray's arm, hauling him back around.
"I don't need curtains because there's nothing to see!" Ray's body under Fraser's fingers was tense, coiled to strike; Ray's eyes caught in Fraser's gaze glittered, hard diamond points in a flushed face. "You think I won't remember you? You honestly think that, after two years of you, that I could forget? Hell, Ray, you were burned on my brain after two minutes."
Ray's eyes grew wary, shadowed. Fraser couldn't summon the strength to care.
"And if our time in Chicago wasn't enough," Fraser continued, a dry chuckle rising from his parched throat, "you decide to plant the Stars and Stripes on my country as well. ‘Let's go on an adventure, Frase.'"
Ray flinched as if struck. "You coulda said no."
"No, I couldn't have." Fraser's hand left Ray's arm and connected with his cheek, softly, lovingly. "And when you're gone, I won't need curtains, even if every person in Nunavut troops by my windows. Because there won't be anything worth looking at anymore."
Fraser's thumb rode the ridge of Ray's high, angular cheekbone, catching on the rough skin caused by the windburn. His vision narrowed to that small strip of skin, trying to imprint the surface of it into his memory.
What was one more memory, after all?
"Earth to Fraser!"
Fraser's gaze could not meet those eyes, filled as they must be with disgust, with condemnation--
"I said I'm buying you those damned curtains."
Fraser closed his eyes against the blow.
Ray's hand connected with his cheek a split second before Ray's tongue plunged past Fraser's lips.
"Because nobody," Ray panted, his breath sweet and hot against Fraser's face, "sees me but you."
End
Nothing to See
by lamardeuse
"Hey, you don't have any curtains."
Fraser looked up momentarily from his task of carving an intricate pineapple design into the wooden bedpost. Since they lacked the conveniences of a modern workshop, the tools he used were simple, and the square, solid timber he carved was braced between his knees. Fraser didn't mind; this way, the pine was a living thing beneath his hands as he worked, subdued by skilled fingers and brute force.
Despite his initial grumblings about the shameful lack of power tools, Ray's carpentry skills adapted quickly to the hacksaw and hand plane. Over the past several weeks, Fraser had watched out of the corner of his eye as the other man transformed raw lumber into simple, clean-lined pieces of functional art. Fraser, of course, provided the finishing touches, adding a curve here or a carving there to complement the original form.
His thumb traced over his work so far; despite the deep cuts he had made, he fancied he could still feel the evidence of Ray's deft hands in the grain of the--
"Earth to Fraser."
"Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry, Ray."
He had to stop this mental somnambulism, stay focused and alert to enjoy what little time remained. Ray's leave would be up in another three days, and the new cabin he had helped to build would stand, a testament to their friendship.
And Fraser would inhabit it alone, a testament to his own cowardice.
"I can't believe you forgot ‘em--what happened to that Mountie attention-to-detail thing, huh?" Ray stood up suddenly, as if jet-propelled. "I'll head into town and get you some. I'd ask you what kind, but I'd guess they haven't got much of a selection. There'd be the tartan, or the tartan, or the tartan." He whirled in place, taking in the room. "Let's see, you got--one, two, three--"
"What are you talking about, Ray?"
The other man laughed. "Jeez, you were spaced out. Curtains, Frase. C-u-r-t-a-i-n-s." He began ticking off on his long fingers. "We got blankets, sheets, pillows, dishes, knives, forks, spoons, pots, pans--oh, make that pot, pan--rugs, oil lamps, but we didn't get curtains."
Fraser shook his head. "I didn't buy curtains because I don't need them."
"Whaddaya mean? Everybody needs curtains."
"Their insulating properties are highly overrated. With proper storm--"
"Insulating, schminsulating," Ray said. "What about keepin' things private? You don't want people staring in at you."
Fraser frowned. "My nearest neighbour is five miles away. I don't imagine I'll need to worry about my privacy."
Ray rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that makes sense, sure. Only we're stuck a hundred feet down an ice crevasse in the middle of East Nowhere, and we get Grizzly Adams just happening by to rescue us. As a vast, empty wilderness, Frase, this place doesn't live up to the rep."
"Actually," Fraser began, "there's a logical explanation--"
"Shut up," Ray said, waving a playful finger under his nose. "I am going outside, I am hitching up the dogs, because God help me, I know how to do that now, I am mushing to the Hudson's Bay One-Stop Shopping Superstore, and I am buying you the fanciest tartan curtains I can find." Ray straightened and dropped his hand to his side. When he spoke again, his voice was almost too low to hear. "Consider it my parting gift to you and your cabin in the wilderness."
Fraser looked up at him. His legs ached from the unforgiving pressure of the wood. His head swam with scraps of bantering conversation, bright flashes of quicksilver smiles, memories of touch and warmth. His heart tumbled over itself in its haste to escape the confines of his chest.
Dimly, he heard the heavy timber fall to the floor as he rose to stand before Ray.
"I don't want a parting gift." Had he spoken aloud?
Ray's mouth opened, then closed. "But I want to give you one. I want you to remember me."
I don't want to remember you.
Had he spoken aloud?
"Frase? What is it?"
"I--" Fraser took a deep breath. "I don't need curtains."
Ray's face darkened. "Why can't you just--" He turned abruptly, and the sight of his retreating back was enough to trigger the torrent. Fraser lunged forward, and in an instant his hand was on Ray's arm, hauling him back around.
"I don't need curtains because there's nothing to see!" Ray's body under Fraser's fingers was tense, coiled to strike; Ray's eyes caught in Fraser's gaze glittered, hard diamond points in a flushed face. "You think I won't remember you? You honestly think that, after two years of you, that I could forget? Hell, Ray, you were burned on my brain after two minutes."
Ray's eyes grew wary, shadowed. Fraser couldn't summon the strength to care.
"And if our time in Chicago wasn't enough," Fraser continued, a dry chuckle rising from his parched throat, "you decide to plant the Stars and Stripes on my country as well. ‘Let's go on an adventure, Frase.'"
Ray flinched as if struck. "You coulda said no."
"No, I couldn't have." Fraser's hand left Ray's arm and connected with his cheek, softly, lovingly. "And when you're gone, I won't need curtains, even if every person in Nunavut troops by my windows. Because there won't be anything worth looking at anymore."
Fraser's thumb rode the ridge of Ray's high, angular cheekbone, catching on the rough skin caused by the windburn. His vision narrowed to that small strip of skin, trying to imprint the surface of it into his memory.
What was one more memory, after all?
"Earth to Fraser!"
Fraser's gaze could not meet those eyes, filled as they must be with disgust, with condemnation--
"I said I'm buying you those damned curtains."
Fraser closed his eyes against the blow.
Ray's hand connected with his cheek a split second before Ray's tongue plunged past Fraser's lips.
"Because nobody," Ray panted, his breath sweet and hot against Fraser's face, "sees me but you."
End
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-05-16 09:01 am (UTC)Especially the "tartan, tartan, or tartan" line (hee) and this: Fraser closed his eyes against the blow. As if he's expecting both a physical blow, and an emotional one. And instead it leads to Ray's hand connected with his cheek a split second before Ray's tongue plunged past Fraser's lips.
Lovely!!
no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 09:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-16 09:06 am (UTC)Heh.
You wouldn't, um...consider adding another fifty or so pages, eh?
Very nice! (Although now I want to see how Ray justifies staying longer/forever now that he knows he has to.)
no subject
Date: 2003-05-16 09:23 am (UTC)Yes, yes, yes! I second the motion! This is just wonderful--the details, the feeling of the wood in Fraser's hand, hard but malleable, and rising emotion and the deep need.
::sigh::
Color me such the happy grrl.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 09:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 09:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-16 09:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-16 10:12 am (UTC)Lovely. Leaves one of those little shivery feelings deep in my belly.
Mmmmmmm...
no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 09:32 pm (UTC)I love Desperate!Fraser; ain't he a doll? And I'm glad that anxiety in Ray came across in this bit. Thanks for that, and for gettin' all shivery! :)
no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 09:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 09:34 pm (UTC)oh, please tell me there's more!
Date: 2003-05-16 10:12 am (UTC)Re: oh, please tell me there's more!
Date: 2003-05-17 09:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 09:38 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment!
no subject
Date: 2003-05-16 10:36 am (UTC)"Because nobody," Ray panted, his breath sweet and hot against Fraser's face, "sees me but you."
It's a beautiful multi-dimensional ending line. Way to go!
no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 09:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-16 11:51 am (UTC)I loved this part "I am going outside, I am hitching up the dogs, because God help me, I know how to do that now, I am mushing to the Hudson's Bay One-Stop Shopping Superstore, and I am buying you the fanciest tartan curtains I can find."
This is great. They were so close, it seemed, to losing something but thank god Fraser got desperate.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 09:42 pm (UTC)Jeez, I wish I could write my other stuff as fast as I write these babies! Thanks for the kind feedback--I love that moment when one of them lays it all on the line; glad you enjoyed this one.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-16 01:23 pm (UTC)Wibble. SO good.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 09:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-16 04:25 pm (UTC)Ah, that's the line that did it for me, a man and his wood *g*.
Lovely, lovely story.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 09:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-16 06:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 09:46 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment!
no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 08:40 am (UTC)-R
no subject
Date: 2003-05-17 09:47 pm (UTC)Love your icon, BTW!
no subject
Date: 2003-05-20 09:50 am (UTC)--Kellie
no subject
Date: 2003-05-20 12:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-06 05:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-06 07:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 08:25 pm (UTC)LOVE IT. ^_^ Gorgeous and pointed and SO very Rayish.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 09:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 10:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-23 11:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-24 12:05 am (UTC)