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May. 19th, 2003 03:32 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
bluster.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionI'm posting this for Kellie. I'll forward all comments to her.
Velvet
c. 2003 Kellie Matthews
Standing just offstage in the shadows, Ray listened to Fraser sing. It was kind of hard to hear him over the Jenkins chick and the band, and it wasn't his kind of music, but Fraser was pretty darned good at it. And he didn't look quite as robotic as he had at the studio, thank God, but it was still pretty painful to watch. He didn't get it. He knew Fraser could move better than that.
It couldn't be stage fright because there hadn't been hardly anyone at the studio and he'd been worse then. Maybe it was just that Fraser hadn't had much exposure to music videos during his important late teen years, and he had no idea how people who sang popular music in public were supposed to act. Of course, Fraser was never going to be Mick Jagger, but he really needed to loosen up a little.
Ms. Canadian National Treasure finished up her song and took a bow, then acknowledged her band, and Fraser. Ray grinned a little at the wild applause Fraser garnered, even if he knew it was mostly from Frannie and Turnbull. Now there was a match made in heaven. He wondered if there was some way to encourage that. After a moment he decided it was probably best to leave it alone. Knowing Frannie, if she figured out he was pushing it might backfire.
The stage lights went off, and the band started to leave the stage. He stepped back out of the way to wait for Fraser in the space between the two sets of stage curtains. No one noticed him there as they filed offstage. It was kind of cool, like when he was a little kid and hid from his mom inside the round clothes racks at the department store. Fraser shook hands with Tracy Jenkins and then gestured for her to precede him off the stage. She did, leaving Fraser bringing up the rear. On a whim, Ray reached out and grabbed the back of Fraser's belt as he passed, pulling him into the curtain's heavy folds.
"What the. . . Ray?" Fraser gasped, startled as he turned, hands on Ray's shoulders to steady himself.
"Did you almost just swear?" Ray asked, laughing, hooking his fingers around Fraser's shoulder-belt, keeping him from running off.
"I do on occasion," Fraser said tartly, and Ray could imagine the exasperation on his face. Had to, since it was too dim and shadowy to see.
"I know. You were good out there."
"I was. . . adequate."
"No, really. You were great!"
"Indeed?" Fraser asked skeptically. "Even though I move like a. . . block of wood, I believe it was?" He sounded a little hurt.
Ray felt badly. He'd just been teasing, hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. "You just need practice. We could work on that," he offered. "The moving thing, I mean. I'm not bad at it, or so I'm told."
Fraser stopped breathing. At least, Ray couldn't feel the warm fan of it against his cheek any more. After a moment, Fraser stepped back as far as he could, with Ray's fingers still snagged in the band across his chest.
"I'm afraid it wouldn't help," he said stiffly. "I've tried before. It's useless. I'm just not cut out for . . . dancing."
"Maybe you just didn't have the right teacher." Ray wondered if they were still talking about the same thing. He had a feeling not. He decided to test the theory. "I bet you know how to move right when it's really important," he said, letting his voice drop a little, giving a little tug to Fraser's cross-strap.
"And when would that be?" Fraser asked, sounding intrigued and slightly breathless.
"When you're having sex."
"Ray!"
"What, you've never had sex?" Ray deadpanned, knowing it would piss him off.
"Of course I have," Fraser snapped, annoyed.
"Well, that's what you do then. Put on some music, pull out one of your favorite fantasies and move like you'd move if you were with hi. . . um. . . them."
Fraser stopped breathing again. Started. "I couldn't possibly."
"Sure you could."
"No. I couldn't. I assure you. Not in . . . no."
"Hm." Ray tried a few interpretations of Fraser's aborted sentence, came up with an answer. "Okay, not in public, yet. What about practicing in private then? Like here."
"Here?" Fraser sounded faintly scandalized now.
"There's music." Sure, it was the canned stuff that the management put on between shows, but it was still music.
"There are people . . ."
"No there's not. There's just you and me here. There's people out there, but they can't see us." Ray brought his free hand up, let it rest lightly on Fraser's hip, urging him to sway along with him to the beat. "So why not?"
Three beats passed. On the third, he felt the flex of muscle under wool, felt Fraser yield to his urging, begin to move to the music, just the way Ray had known he could.
"Why not?" Fraser murmured, and one of his hands came to rest on Ray's hip.
Surrounded by dusty velvet, Ray showed him how to dance.
** fin **
Velvet
c. 2003 Kellie Matthews
Standing just offstage in the shadows, Ray listened to Fraser sing. It was kind of hard to hear him over the Jenkins chick and the band, and it wasn't his kind of music, but Fraser was pretty darned good at it. And he didn't look quite as robotic as he had at the studio, thank God, but it was still pretty painful to watch. He didn't get it. He knew Fraser could move better than that.
It couldn't be stage fright because there hadn't been hardly anyone at the studio and he'd been worse then. Maybe it was just that Fraser hadn't had much exposure to music videos during his important late teen years, and he had no idea how people who sang popular music in public were supposed to act. Of course, Fraser was never going to be Mick Jagger, but he really needed to loosen up a little.
Ms. Canadian National Treasure finished up her song and took a bow, then acknowledged her band, and Fraser. Ray grinned a little at the wild applause Fraser garnered, even if he knew it was mostly from Frannie and Turnbull. Now there was a match made in heaven. He wondered if there was some way to encourage that. After a moment he decided it was probably best to leave it alone. Knowing Frannie, if she figured out he was pushing it might backfire.
The stage lights went off, and the band started to leave the stage. He stepped back out of the way to wait for Fraser in the space between the two sets of stage curtains. No one noticed him there as they filed offstage. It was kind of cool, like when he was a little kid and hid from his mom inside the round clothes racks at the department store. Fraser shook hands with Tracy Jenkins and then gestured for her to precede him off the stage. She did, leaving Fraser bringing up the rear. On a whim, Ray reached out and grabbed the back of Fraser's belt as he passed, pulling him into the curtain's heavy folds.
"What the. . . Ray?" Fraser gasped, startled as he turned, hands on Ray's shoulders to steady himself.
"Did you almost just swear?" Ray asked, laughing, hooking his fingers around Fraser's shoulder-belt, keeping him from running off.
"I do on occasion," Fraser said tartly, and Ray could imagine the exasperation on his face. Had to, since it was too dim and shadowy to see.
"I know. You were good out there."
"I was. . . adequate."
"No, really. You were great!"
"Indeed?" Fraser asked skeptically. "Even though I move like a. . . block of wood, I believe it was?" He sounded a little hurt.
Ray felt badly. He'd just been teasing, hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. "You just need practice. We could work on that," he offered. "The moving thing, I mean. I'm not bad at it, or so I'm told."
Fraser stopped breathing. At least, Ray couldn't feel the warm fan of it against his cheek any more. After a moment, Fraser stepped back as far as he could, with Ray's fingers still snagged in the band across his chest.
"I'm afraid it wouldn't help," he said stiffly. "I've tried before. It's useless. I'm just not cut out for . . . dancing."
"Maybe you just didn't have the right teacher." Ray wondered if they were still talking about the same thing. He had a feeling not. He decided to test the theory. "I bet you know how to move right when it's really important," he said, letting his voice drop a little, giving a little tug to Fraser's cross-strap.
"And when would that be?" Fraser asked, sounding intrigued and slightly breathless.
"When you're having sex."
"Ray!"
"What, you've never had sex?" Ray deadpanned, knowing it would piss him off.
"Of course I have," Fraser snapped, annoyed.
"Well, that's what you do then. Put on some music, pull out one of your favorite fantasies and move like you'd move if you were with hi. . . um. . . them."
Fraser stopped breathing again. Started. "I couldn't possibly."
"Sure you could."
"No. I couldn't. I assure you. Not in . . . no."
"Hm." Ray tried a few interpretations of Fraser's aborted sentence, came up with an answer. "Okay, not in public, yet. What about practicing in private then? Like here."
"Here?" Fraser sounded faintly scandalized now.
"There's music." Sure, it was the canned stuff that the management put on between shows, but it was still music.
"There are people . . ."
"No there's not. There's just you and me here. There's people out there, but they can't see us." Ray brought his free hand up, let it rest lightly on Fraser's hip, urging him to sway along with him to the beat. "So why not?"
Three beats passed. On the third, he felt the flex of muscle under wool, felt Fraser yield to his urging, begin to move to the music, just the way Ray had known he could.
"Why not?" Fraser murmured, and one of his hands came to rest on Ray's hip.
Surrounded by dusty velvet, Ray showed him how to dance.
** fin **
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Date: 2003-05-19 06:04 pm (UTC)Ohhh....yummmmmmm....more storryyyyyyyy.....pleeeeeeassse....
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Date: 2003-05-19 06:59 pm (UTC)--Kellie
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Date: 2003-05-19 07:40 pm (UTC)Heh heh heh.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-20 09:39 am (UTC)--Kellie
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Date: 2003-05-19 08:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-20 09:41 am (UTC)(Still loving that Ray *shoves* Fraser out onto the stage. I had never noticed that before!)
--Kellie
Poor baby!
Date: 2003-05-19 10:38 pm (UTC)"I'm afraid it wouldn't help," he said stiffly. "I've tried before. It's useless. I'm just not cut out for . . . dancing." '
Thank goodness for Ray, ready and willing to help. ;)
Karen
Re: Poor baby!
Date: 2003-05-20 09:42 am (UTC)--Kellie
no subject
Date: 2003-05-20 11:09 am (UTC)On a whim, Ray reached out and grabbed the back of Fraser's belt as he passed, pulling him into the curtain's heavy folds.
--was where I started grinning like an idiot, because way-to-go, Ray! and this line here--
"The moving thing, I mean. I'm not bad at it, or so I'm told."
--was what made me fall in love with your Ray, because I just think that understatement is so fuckin' sexy on a man. Actually, the whole device of having them talk about "dancing" rather than *cough* the thing itself is what makes this piece so sexy period. It's a wonderful striptease of a story, curtains and all.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-21 10:43 am (UTC)--Kellie
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Date: 2003-05-21 03:48 am (UTC)Yay, you!!
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Date: 2003-05-21 10:45 am (UTC)--Kellie