This story builds so incredibly beautifully. The world is older than we know. Long, long ago, fantastical creatures inhabited it, upon the land and under the sea. In those days, the People were blessed. Some could grow wings and fly, should the need arise. Others could change their skin, the better to make their homes in the jungles or deserts, to swim in the sea or live on the ice. From the moment I read that I so badly wanted Fraser to be one of the blessed People. To be able to experience the world in a way so unique that it explained so much about him. I love how the story Fraser told could be a metaphor for nothing more than the separation he and Ray face at the end of the quest, for the reality that maybe they are too different, come from worlds too different to stay together. This is what Ray believes. And because Fraser is struggling with that as well as how to reveal his true nature, he cannot find a way to make Ray understand any of it. Fraser's longing is heartbreaking and beautiful and palpatable throughout, but this, this left me stunned: "Ray... " The words refused to come. Oh, Fraser had them; he'd been raised by conscientious, passionate librarians. He had thousands of words at his disposal, millions. A lexicon stuffed to overflowing with words and phrases, epithets and endearments, hoarded snatches of poetry and prose read over and over, memorized because of how they called Ray to mind. Words that painted Ray large as life; bold, colorful pieces of the most delightfully fascinating jigsaw Fraser could ever imagine. He wanted to spend every waking minute, hour upon hour – all the days of his life – piecing Ray together, puzzling him out, scrutinizing and savoring all the bits of Ray that made him Ray.
There was so much Fraser wanted to say, but the words were all dammed up, tangled and twisted, snarled in a linguistic log-jam behind the treacherous lump in his throat that nothing could break through.
And then, thank God this is Team Whimsy! Because Fraser gets to be Selkie. And if that is not just perfect and Ray gets to see it and they get to live happily ever after. One of the best declarations of love of all time: Fraser's heart skipped a beat as long-buried desire burst into life. He could see his own banked passion reflected in the heat of Ray's eyes, and it gave him the courage he needed. "Will you hold onto my skin, Ray? Keep it safe for me?"
Ray's smile spread slowly – wicked, languorous, promising everything Fraser hadn't known he wanted until just that moment. "Benton buddy," he breathed huskily, dropping his head to press his lips against the flutter of Fraser's pulse, "I had my hands all over you. I peeled you out of your fucking skin. And Christ, you were beautiful. No way I'm giving that up now."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-08-30 10:46 pm (UTC)The world is older than we know. Long, long ago, fantastical creatures inhabited it, upon the land and under the sea. In those days, the People were blessed. Some could grow wings and fly, should the need arise. Others could change their skin, the better to make their homes in the jungles or deserts, to swim in the sea or live on the ice.
From the moment I read that I so badly wanted Fraser to be one of the blessed People. To be able to experience the world in a way so unique that it explained so much about him.
I love how the story Fraser told could be a metaphor for nothing more than the separation he and Ray face at the end of the quest, for the reality that maybe they are too different, come from worlds too different to stay together. This is what Ray believes. And because Fraser is struggling with that as well as how to reveal his true nature, he cannot find a way to make Ray understand any of it.
Fraser's longing is heartbreaking and beautiful and palpatable throughout, but this, this left me stunned:
"Ray... " The words refused to come. Oh, Fraser had them; he'd been raised by conscientious, passionate librarians. He had thousands of words at his disposal, millions. A lexicon stuffed to overflowing with words and phrases, epithets and endearments, hoarded snatches of poetry and prose read over and over, memorized because of how they called Ray to mind. Words that painted Ray large as life; bold, colorful pieces of the most delightfully fascinating jigsaw Fraser could ever imagine. He wanted to spend every waking minute, hour upon hour – all the days of his life – piecing Ray together, puzzling him out, scrutinizing and savoring all the bits of Ray that made him Ray.
There was so much Fraser wanted to say, but the words were all dammed up, tangled and twisted, snarled in a linguistic log-jam behind the treacherous lump in his throat that nothing could break through.
And then, thank God this is Team Whimsy! Because Fraser gets to be Selkie. And if that is not just perfect and Ray gets to see it and they get to live happily ever after. One of the best declarations of love of all time:
Fraser's heart skipped a beat as long-buried desire burst into life. He could see his own banked passion reflected in the heat of Ray's eyes, and it gave him the courage he needed. "Will you hold onto my skin, Ray? Keep it safe for me?"
Ray's smile spread slowly – wicked, languorous, promising everything Fraser hadn't known he wanted until just that moment. "Benton buddy," he breathed huskily, dropping his head to press his lips against the flutter of Fraser's pulse, "I had my hands all over you. I peeled you out of your fucking skin. And Christ, you were beautiful. No way I'm giving that up now."
Thank you so much for this!