[identity profile] nos4a2no9.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] ds_flashfiction
Title: One Thing Benton Fraser Knows About Love
Pairing: F/K
Rating: R
Length: 700 words
Summary: Just like the title says.
Author’s Notes: Many thanks to [livejournal.com profile] caersmane for doing a very quick and insightful beta. Inspired by a bit of dialogue from the episode "You Must Remember This."

One Thing Benton Fraser Knows About Love

After Ray Vecchio left, Fraser often found himself thinking about love.

It wasn’t Ray’s leaving that inspired his musings, although doubtlessly the two were connected. He’d entertained some feelings for his friend, little more than small embers of hope and need that never truly flamed to full life. And how could they? Ray was firmly heterosexual, after all, and he seemed to view Fraser as some rare species of chaste innocent.

What does a Mountie know about love?

Lord, how that question had irked him. Even after Ray had vanished into the neon-washed landscape of Las Vegas, Fraser heard that question echoing through his dreams.

What do I know about love?

He knew that love was a wild animal: something to be respected, but not trusted. It was important, he knew, not to turn one’s back on love, because love would strike when one least expected. He certainly had the scar to prove it.

And he knew that love wasn’t taken seriously. At least, not in America. And certainly not in the last ragged years of this cynical and promiscuous century.

Though love had the power to wound or to heal (a belief to which he stubbornly clung, despite all evidence to the contrary) it was, to put it plainly, a joke. Love was a sentiment on a candy heart. Be Mine. Kiss Me. You’re cute. Love was a pink-covered romance novel. A poorly-executed sonnet. A salacious wink, or a sly elbow to the ribs. Something frivolous, or something embarrassing. Graffiti on the men’s room wall.

Love, to put it simply, wasn’t important. It was the province of fools, poets and greeting-card writers. According to Ray Vecchio, love rated rather far down on the list of priorities. Classic cars were important. Fine food, and good sex, and a magic pair of sunglasses were important. But love? One didn’t speak of love unless one had a severe head injury.

What does anyone know about love?

Years later, Fraser asked himself that question as he lay sprawled across a futon in his new partner's apartment. His leg was falling asleep, the post-coital sweat cooling on his limbs was making him shiver, and he felt wonderfully, blissfully alive.

Ray Kowalski shifted under him, the movement bringing their softening cocks together, and Fraser closed his eyes. He sighed in contentment.

“Jesus,” Ray murmured. “That was—”

“Good,” Fraser supplied. He pressed a soft kiss to the tender skin at the corner of Ray’s eye, where the skin crinkled slightly from too many years of smiling and squinting into the sun. “That was good, Ray.”

Ray chuckled and rubbed at the back of Fraser’s neck, and then his touch drifted upwards into Fraser’s hair, gently massaging his scalp. Another few moments of this, and Fraser knew he’d be purring like a cat.

He lay his head down on Ray’s chest and listened to the slowing thud of his heart. Soon they’d have to move, to clean themselves up, to dress. They'd meant only to take a quick nap before returning to the station to finish up the paperwork on a burglary case. But one thing had led to another, as it often did these days.

Fraser tried to muster the will to get up and attend to duty. But Ray’s massage continued, and he felt only a nameless, drifting contentment. A new sensation. A new realization. An answer to his question.

In the past weeks he'd come to understand that love was possible. It wasn’t a joke, or a predator, or the pursuit of fools. Love was real, and it was happening here, right now, to him. It was happening in this flat midcontinental city, in the midst of noise and traffic and endless concrete and cold, overcast skies. He felt the wonder of it wash over him, and he rolled over and buried his face in Ray’s neck. Love existed, and it took his breath away.

Ray took his breath away.

And that was as little, and as much, as Fraser knew about love.

END
Page 1 of 2 << [1] [2] >>

Date: 2009-02-02 05:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] love-jackianto.livejournal.com
Loved your use of dialogue from You Must Remember This.

'the neon-washed landscape of Las Vegas'
Oh that great line :D

'Ray took his breath away.

And that was as little, and as much, as Fraser knew about love.'

Oh, Fraser.

Date: 2009-02-02 05:30 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] spuffyduds.livejournal.com
*heart blooms*

Date: 2009-02-02 05:36 pm (UTC)
ext_12745: (Default)
From: [identity profile] lamentables.livejournal.com
He felt the wonder of it wash over him, and he rolled over and buried his face in Ray’s neck.

&hearts

Date: 2009-02-02 06:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] grey853.livejournal.com
Lovely images. It's so nice to know that Fraser finally has his definition.

One little question though, toward the end where he's thinking,
"In the past weeks he'd come to understood that love was possible." shouldn't understood be understand? Could be mistaken, but it just didn't sound right to me.

Date: 2009-02-02 06:15 pm (UTC)
luzula: a Luzula pilosa, or hairy wood-rush (Default)
From: [personal profile] luzula
Eeee, yes. I love how Ray breaks through to him, drags him into the here-and-now.

Date: 2009-02-02 06:37 pm (UTC)
ext_14817: (Fraser: COTW)
From: [identity profile] meresy.livejournal.com
*hearts hearts hearts hearts*

Date: 2009-02-02 06:46 pm (UTC)
china_shop: Close-up of Zhao Yunlan grinning (Default)
From: [personal profile] china_shop
It was happening in this flat midcontinental city, in the midst of noise and traffic and endless concrete and cold, overcast skies.

I really like the sense of alienation in that description. Also, awwww!

Date: 2009-02-02 06:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] prudence-dearly.livejournal.com
Mmmmm. I like how Fraser's musings pass through little, inconsequential, temporary things -- graffiti, candy, winks, sunglasses -- until he finds a tangible intimacy with Ray, which is here-and-now and has the depth of their friendship and working partnership to ground it. And everything that seemed so confused and frivolous has a simple answer.

And also, I just love it when Fraser's all thinky and melancholic but ends up all sweaty and cuddling and happy. Yay!

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] prudence-dearly.livejournal.com - Date: 2009-02-03 04:23 am (UTC) - Expand

Date: 2009-02-02 07:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] julia-here.livejournal.com
What a wonderful Valentine, of the "blooming plant in a frost-proof pot" sort.

Julia, unlike the "single scentless rose in a cheap budvase" kind

Date: 2009-02-02 07:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] innocentsmith.livejournal.com
I really enjoyed the love-as-wild-animal metaphor, because I think it's very apt for its portrayal on the show. And then this:

love was possible. It wasn’t a joke, or a predator, or the pursuit of fools. Love was real, and it was happening here, right now, to him.

Is just exactly right and so what I always kind of wanted to see on the show. Because really, I'd sure like to believe that's true. And nobody deserves that more than Fraser.

Many ♥ ♥ ♥ for this. It's absolutely lovely.

Date: 2009-02-02 09:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brigantine.livejournal.com
*smishes boys* Delightful!

I love Fraser's sense of wonder, how surprising it is to him that this should a) happen for him at all and b) happen here in weird, not-home Chicago, of all places. :)
(deleted comment)

Date: 2009-02-02 09:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cyberducks.livejournal.com
Ah, that was so sweet and touching without being maudlin.

I want to believe that Fraser can find love that isn't callous or a predator.

Date: 2009-02-02 10:05 pm (UTC)
ext_24067: (dS - Partnerships puppets)
From: [identity profile] wihluta.livejournal.com
This is... it's... *flails* I LOVE IT!

I really like this paragraph:
Though love had the power to wound or to heal (a belief to which he stubbornly clung, despite all evidence to the contrary) it was, to put it plainly, a joke. Love was a sentiment on a candy heart. Be Mine. Kiss Me. You’re cute. Love was a pink-covered romance novel. A poorly-executed sonnet. A salacious wink, or a sly elbow to the ribs. Something frivolous, or something embarrassing. Graffiti on the men’s room wall.
Because even though it's Fraser swearing off love, it still makes it feel real and there and not at all unimportant. Because sometimes, yes, love can be all those things and it matters. You just have to see/hear/feel it.

And Fraser does see it, in the end. Which is good. :-)

Date: 2009-02-02 10:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] green-grrl.livejournal.com
Yes. ♥ Fortunately RayK is about the most tenacious romantic one could ever hope to find. Perfect.

Date: 2009-02-03 01:32 am (UTC)
ext_12460: acquired from fanpop.com (Fraser5 by Tartar)
From: [identity profile] akite.livejournal.com
Oh, that was lovely. Perfectly lovely.

Date: 2009-02-03 07:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] j-s-cavalcante.livejournal.com
Awww! Love this. What a beautiful, fresh take on Fraser here.

Art school kicked my butt tonight, or I'd have read this sooner. Maybe I should have! :)

More later.


Date: 2009-02-03 04:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] leafy22.livejournal.com
One Thing I Know About Nos -

This is just lovely!

Date: 2009-02-05 05:01 am (UTC)
ext_20943: (bf + rk)
From: [identity profile] sam80853.livejournal.com
He knew that love was a wild animal: something to be respected, but not trusted. It was important, he knew, not to turn one’s back on love, because love would strike when one least expected. He certainly had the scar to prove it.

Oh, Fraser ...

Beautifully done, nos, like always:)

\o/

Date: 2009-02-05 07:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] suchthefangirl.livejournal.com
*sigh*

That was wonderful. It lives in a warm, fuzzy, heart shaped place that I wish I could visit more often. Thank you for taking me there.

Date: 2009-02-05 08:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bleedtoblue.livejournal.com
Your metaphors are, as always, lovely. You manage to write something that's wonderfully squishy and heart warming, with just the right touch of bittersweet. Thanks so much, it's a terrific early Valentine!

Date: 2009-02-06 07:26 am (UTC)
ext_3554: dream wolf (Default)
From: [identity profile] keerawa.livejournal.com
Love was a sentiment on a candy heart. Be Mine. Kiss Me. You’re cute. Love was a pink-covered romance novel. A poorly-executed sonnet. A salacious wink, or a sly elbow to the ribs. Something frivolous, or something embarrassing. Graffiti on the men’s room wall.
Oh, excellent. I firmly believe in a Fraser who went through a phase as a young man reading the most tragic and romantic of poetry. To go from his vision of love as the deepest connection possible between humans, to this ... it's almost insulting. That people should have the chance at this most precious of experiences and treat it like trash.

And then for Ray to bring love from this idealized, feared/exhalted state and just give it to Fraser, a simple gift that he knows the guy deserves, just like he'd make Fraser a nice dinner. It's wonderful!

Date: 2009-02-06 08:32 pm (UTC)
ext_3190: Red icon with logo "I drink Nozz-a-la- Cola" in cursive. (dS: fraserhat)
From: [identity profile] primroseburrows.livejournal.com
“Jesus,” Ray murmured. “That was—”

“Good,” Fraser supplied. He pressed a soft kiss to the tender skin at the corner of Ray’s eye, where the skin crinkled slightly from too many years of smiling and squinting into the sun. “That was good, Ray.”


One thing I love about Fraser is that as verbose as he often is, he can also condense volumes into a handful of words.

Love was real, and it was happening here, right now, to him. It was happening in this flat midcontinental city, in the midst of noise and traffic and endless concrete and cold, overcast skies.

This made me tear up. Oh,Fraser. You deserve an endless supply of love (which I'm sure Ray will be happy to give).

Yay, lovely story. Lovely Ray. Lovely Fraser. Love, love love! :)

Date: 2009-02-11 03:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] qe2.livejournal.com
I read this and loved it when you first posted it, but I didn't comment then because I couldn't think of a way to say how much I loved it. I still can't, but I didn't want to let it go unnoticed. This is...in a way, it gives me hope. Also, you write the boys in one of the ways I love them most: aging and loving.

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] qe2.livejournal.com - Date: 2009-02-11 03:14 am (UTC) - Expand

Date: 2009-02-28 06:36 pm (UTC)
plotbunniofdoom: (Cosy: warm socks by fire)
From: [personal profile] plotbunniofdoom
Oh!

Oh.

I'm trying to think of more to say about this wonderful story but I'm stuck on oh!

F/K = &hearts
Page 1 of 2 << [1] [2] >>

Profile

ds_flashfiction: (Default)
Due South Flashfiction Community

July 2025

S M T W T F S
   12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Mar. 25th, 2026 11:46 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios