Photo Challenge by Giulietta
Feb. 28th, 2009 03:37 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ds_flashfictionFraser/Kowalski, first-time. 1480 words. Based on the first photo here.
Besides, if he's quick about it, he won't have to actually explain that logic to Fraser ("Ray, what are you doing with my diary?" "Yeah, well, you kissed me! ...um."). Yeah, no. Better to take a quick peek, get in and out as fast as he can, play it cool when Fraser gets back.
Rewards for Snooping
"Fraser!" Ray calls through the Consulate, getting more and more annoyed. "Frah-zur!"
But Fraser doesn't answer, which is just -- Ray doesn't even know what. It's not like Fraser doesn't know today's Ray's day off, and he hadn't said anything about special Consular doorman-duties, and while Ray maybe hadn't said anything specifically about them hanging out today, at this point it's kind of assumed. You do something twice, it's a coincidence; three times is a routine, and four times is a motherfucking tradition. Or something. Point is, him and Fraser spend their free days doing something together, and it's definitely not cool for Fraser to be standing him up like this and not answering his phone.
It also might have a little bit to do with how Ray already bought them both lunch from that deli down the road, and maybe a little to do with how he's gotten used to walking through that park Fraser likes during lunchtime. And what kind of freak does that alone, huh?
"Fraser, what the hell're you doing in here?" Ray grumbles, letting himself into Fraser's office -- Turnbull's not around, so he can't ask permission anyway -- and nearly trips over Dief, who's pressed his face up against the door, ears pricked and tail wagging expectantly.
"Um, hey, little guy -- hey! No! Stop that!" Dief takes his nose out of Ray's pocket and drops back onto all fours, eyes still bright with interest. "I know, I know I smell like food, but it's all back in the car, and -- "
The closet door opens, and Fraser tumbles out, looking kind of rumpled. He's also holding a small, leatherbound book, and one of those nice nibbed pens. There is a splotch of ink on his left cheekbone.
Ray blinks at him for a second, then turns to Dief to share an exasperated look, only Dief's already gone running off to Ray's car. "Your wolf has a one-track mind," Ray informs Fraser.
Fraser looks even more flustered than Ray feels; after all, Ray's got practice dealing with Fraser being in places he shouldn't be. "Ah, well, I apologize, but I do believe I've warned you of that on more than one occasion."
Ray waves this away. "Whatever -- I called you this morning, what, four times? Nothing. Nada. Is that closet soundproof or something?"
"Or something." Fraser's gone a funny shade of red around the collar. Ray watches, and right on cue, he slides his finger into his collar and tugs it away from his flushed throat. "What did you need me for? Isn't this your day off?"
"Yeah, so I figured we'd grab lunch together, go for a walk. You know, the usual."
"Ah. I see. I should, ah, probably -- "
"Change out of the uniform, yeah."
Fraser coughs. "Actually, I was thinking I ought to leave a note for Turnbull. Just in case. You never know, with him."
"Yeah, okay, that too. But hurry up, okay? I'm starving over here."
Fraser smiles, and brushes past Ray on his way out the door, leaving Ray standing in his office, all alone and curious as hell about what was going on in that closet. 'Cause Ray's maybe used to Fraser doing weird shit, but this one's not too difficult to figure out: little black book plus hiding in a small enclosed space equals diary. Or journal, or whatever Fraser wants to call it so it doesn't sound girly.
One thing's for certain, Ray's not supposed to be looking at it -- but he really, really wants to.
He holds out for maybe a solid minute, and after that he figures Fraser still owes him for that buddy-breathing-underwater-kissing-without-asking-first thing. Besides, if he's quick about it, he won't have to actually explain that logic to Fraser ("Ray, what are you doing with my diary?" "Yeah, well, you kissed me! ...um."). Yeah, no. Better to take a quick peek, get in and out as fast as he can, play it cool when Fraser gets back.
Predictably, the first page Ray opens to is totally boring. It's like Fraser copied the case write-up he'd handed in at the station for the Phillips' burglary, only it's got an extra sentence at the end: "Ms. Harriet Phillips was somewhat more grateful to me than I might have wished, although Ray did valiantly save me from further embarrassment."
Ray grins, remembering that. What Fraser didn't mention -- probably 'cause he didn't notice, nutjob that he is -- was how Ms. Harriet Phillips thought Ray was saving his boyfriend from "further embarrassment". Heh. One day Ray might even tell him about that.
He keeps flipping through, looking for his name, because honestly, that's the only reason you read somebody's diary. You wanna know what somebody really thinks of you, right? So he doesn't really want to find the page that says, "My dear friend Ray is really a fantastic jackass and I wish he would die," but he does. If it's there.
But as he gets deeper in, it's getting more and more obvious that Fraser doesn't talk about him at all, not unless he's involved in a case, which is not at all the same thing. Ray's, like, the only friend Fraser's got. He's got to be in here somewhere.
Only he isn't. And he isn't. And he isn't. And then he flips to the last page, because he knows he's running out of time -- Fraser'll be back any second now -- and there he is.
"Before I write the following, I would like to reiterate that this is not in fact my idea, as I would never think to cheapen my account of these years in Chicago with such frivolities. However, I have been ordered by a certain non-corporeal entity -- " ("What the fuck?" Ray mutters quietly, but keeps reading -- ) "to write these thoughts here, because he believes that some good may come of it. Furthermore, I was also unable to convince him that any significant harm would come of it, and so here we are.
"It so happens that in the past year, I have made the acquaintance of one Stanley Raymond Kowalski, a.k.a Ray, and whose company I very much enjoy. It might even be said that I enjoy his company rather too much, as not only do I make every effort to be near him and miss him when he is gone, but when he is near me I often feel inclined to certain...actions, that would almost certainly alienate him from me."
"I think he cannot possibly move the way he does on purpose, and yet such deliberate grace cannot be accidental. He is lean, whip-quick and strong, and though he has only punched me once I sometimes wonder what it would be like to fight him. A real battle, without the aid of a boxing ring and equipment -- he would be glorious, and I am sure he would beat me. He might even beat me easily.
"I have never thought of myself as particularly sensitive to matters of attire, but he is, and I think that he must be forcing me to acknowledge the importance of this. He wears all of his clothes tight, tight enough that I can feel texture of his skin through the cloth whenever I permit myself to touch him, and I would think it was uncomfortable for him if this were not so obviously untrue. Over this he often wears a long, tan raincoat, which billows about his long, narrow body like a shield.
"I love and hate this raincoat. I hate the way it keeps him hidden from me. But I love the thought of defeating it, of pushing my hands under it at the collar, gripping his narrow shoulders. Sliding up against his skin to clasp his jaw for a kiss, or down to -- "
"Ray, could you confirm you mobile telephone number for -- Ray! What -- what are you doing with my journal?"
Ray looks up, face hot and mouth dry, and freezes for a second before dropping the journal back onto Fraser's desk. "I -- I, um -- " Fraser's face is bright red and horrified, and all Ray can think to say to him is, Yeah, well, you kissed me! which is probably not the right thing to say right now. He looks down at his shoes and jams his hands into the pockets of the raincoat that Fraser apparently loves and hates so much, and tries to come up with something that won't make Fraser clock him. Because, if that diary's anything to go by, Fraser might even get off on that, and --
Yeah, well, you kissed me!
-- and, huh. Kissing. Maybe that's not such a bad idea, after all.
--fin
Besides, if he's quick about it, he won't have to actually explain that logic to Fraser ("Ray, what are you doing with my diary?" "Yeah, well, you kissed me! ...um."). Yeah, no. Better to take a quick peek, get in and out as fast as he can, play it cool when Fraser gets back.
Rewards for Snooping
"Fraser!" Ray calls through the Consulate, getting more and more annoyed. "Frah-zur!"
But Fraser doesn't answer, which is just -- Ray doesn't even know what. It's not like Fraser doesn't know today's Ray's day off, and he hadn't said anything about special Consular doorman-duties, and while Ray maybe hadn't said anything specifically about them hanging out today, at this point it's kind of assumed. You do something twice, it's a coincidence; three times is a routine, and four times is a motherfucking tradition. Or something. Point is, him and Fraser spend their free days doing something together, and it's definitely not cool for Fraser to be standing him up like this and not answering his phone.
It also might have a little bit to do with how Ray already bought them both lunch from that deli down the road, and maybe a little to do with how he's gotten used to walking through that park Fraser likes during lunchtime. And what kind of freak does that alone, huh?
"Fraser, what the hell're you doing in here?" Ray grumbles, letting himself into Fraser's office -- Turnbull's not around, so he can't ask permission anyway -- and nearly trips over Dief, who's pressed his face up against the door, ears pricked and tail wagging expectantly.
"Um, hey, little guy -- hey! No! Stop that!" Dief takes his nose out of Ray's pocket and drops back onto all fours, eyes still bright with interest. "I know, I know I smell like food, but it's all back in the car, and -- "
The closet door opens, and Fraser tumbles out, looking kind of rumpled. He's also holding a small, leatherbound book, and one of those nice nibbed pens. There is a splotch of ink on his left cheekbone.
Ray blinks at him for a second, then turns to Dief to share an exasperated look, only Dief's already gone running off to Ray's car. "Your wolf has a one-track mind," Ray informs Fraser.
Fraser looks even more flustered than Ray feels; after all, Ray's got practice dealing with Fraser being in places he shouldn't be. "Ah, well, I apologize, but I do believe I've warned you of that on more than one occasion."
Ray waves this away. "Whatever -- I called you this morning, what, four times? Nothing. Nada. Is that closet soundproof or something?"
"Or something." Fraser's gone a funny shade of red around the collar. Ray watches, and right on cue, he slides his finger into his collar and tugs it away from his flushed throat. "What did you need me for? Isn't this your day off?"
"Yeah, so I figured we'd grab lunch together, go for a walk. You know, the usual."
"Ah. I see. I should, ah, probably -- "
"Change out of the uniform, yeah."
Fraser coughs. "Actually, I was thinking I ought to leave a note for Turnbull. Just in case. You never know, with him."
"Yeah, okay, that too. But hurry up, okay? I'm starving over here."
Fraser smiles, and brushes past Ray on his way out the door, leaving Ray standing in his office, all alone and curious as hell about what was going on in that closet. 'Cause Ray's maybe used to Fraser doing weird shit, but this one's not too difficult to figure out: little black book plus hiding in a small enclosed space equals diary. Or journal, or whatever Fraser wants to call it so it doesn't sound girly.
One thing's for certain, Ray's not supposed to be looking at it -- but he really, really wants to.
He holds out for maybe a solid minute, and after that he figures Fraser still owes him for that buddy-breathing-underwater-kissing-without-asking-first thing. Besides, if he's quick about it, he won't have to actually explain that logic to Fraser ("Ray, what are you doing with my diary?" "Yeah, well, you kissed me! ...um."). Yeah, no. Better to take a quick peek, get in and out as fast as he can, play it cool when Fraser gets back.
Predictably, the first page Ray opens to is totally boring. It's like Fraser copied the case write-up he'd handed in at the station for the Phillips' burglary, only it's got an extra sentence at the end: "Ms. Harriet Phillips was somewhat more grateful to me than I might have wished, although Ray did valiantly save me from further embarrassment."
Ray grins, remembering that. What Fraser didn't mention -- probably 'cause he didn't notice, nutjob that he is -- was how Ms. Harriet Phillips thought Ray was saving his boyfriend from "further embarrassment". Heh. One day Ray might even tell him about that.
He keeps flipping through, looking for his name, because honestly, that's the only reason you read somebody's diary. You wanna know what somebody really thinks of you, right? So he doesn't really want to find the page that says, "My dear friend Ray is really a fantastic jackass and I wish he would die," but he does. If it's there.
But as he gets deeper in, it's getting more and more obvious that Fraser doesn't talk about him at all, not unless he's involved in a case, which is not at all the same thing. Ray's, like, the only friend Fraser's got. He's got to be in here somewhere.
Only he isn't. And he isn't. And he isn't. And then he flips to the last page, because he knows he's running out of time -- Fraser'll be back any second now -- and there he is.
"Before I write the following, I would like to reiterate that this is not in fact my idea, as I would never think to cheapen my account of these years in Chicago with such frivolities. However, I have been ordered by a certain non-corporeal entity -- " ("What the fuck?" Ray mutters quietly, but keeps reading -- ) "to write these thoughts here, because he believes that some good may come of it. Furthermore, I was also unable to convince him that any significant harm would come of it, and so here we are.
"It so happens that in the past year, I have made the acquaintance of one Stanley Raymond Kowalski, a.k.a Ray, and whose company I very much enjoy. It might even be said that I enjoy his company rather too much, as not only do I make every effort to be near him and miss him when he is gone, but when he is near me I often feel inclined to certain...actions, that would almost certainly alienate him from me."
"I think he cannot possibly move the way he does on purpose, and yet such deliberate grace cannot be accidental. He is lean, whip-quick and strong, and though he has only punched me once I sometimes wonder what it would be like to fight him. A real battle, without the aid of a boxing ring and equipment -- he would be glorious, and I am sure he would beat me. He might even beat me easily.
"I have never thought of myself as particularly sensitive to matters of attire, but he is, and I think that he must be forcing me to acknowledge the importance of this. He wears all of his clothes tight, tight enough that I can feel texture of his skin through the cloth whenever I permit myself to touch him, and I would think it was uncomfortable for him if this were not so obviously untrue. Over this he often wears a long, tan raincoat, which billows about his long, narrow body like a shield.
"I love and hate this raincoat. I hate the way it keeps him hidden from me. But I love the thought of defeating it, of pushing my hands under it at the collar, gripping his narrow shoulders. Sliding up against his skin to clasp his jaw for a kiss, or down to -- "
"Ray, could you confirm you mobile telephone number for -- Ray! What -- what are you doing with my journal?"
Ray looks up, face hot and mouth dry, and freezes for a second before dropping the journal back onto Fraser's desk. "I -- I, um -- " Fraser's face is bright red and horrified, and all Ray can think to say to him is, Yeah, well, you kissed me! which is probably not the right thing to say right now. He looks down at his shoes and jams his hands into the pockets of the raincoat that Fraser apparently loves and hates so much, and tries to come up with something that won't make Fraser clock him. Because, if that diary's anything to go by, Fraser might even get off on that, and --
Yeah, well, you kissed me!
-- and, huh. Kissing. Maybe that's not such a bad idea, after all.
--fin
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no subject
Date: 2009-02-28 08:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-28 04:24 am (UTC)Thanks for reading!
no subject
Date: 2009-06-29 12:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-28 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-28 04:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-28 10:40 pm (UTC)And I too, would put a vote in for reading more of Fraser's journal (my interest being similarly academic to
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 06:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-28 04:26 am (UTC)Thanks for reading!
Kissing
Date: 2009-03-01 01:02 am (UTC)Re: Kissing
Date: 2009-06-28 04:26 am (UTC)Thanks for reading!
no subject
Date: 2009-03-01 05:33 am (UTC)This is all just adorable and fun. I love Ray's logic about Fraser owing him for the buddy breathing, even as he recognizes that said logic is a little hinky. And it's always fun to have Fraser falling out of the closet, of course. Metaphorically and otherwise.
In conclusion? ♥
no subject
Date: 2009-06-28 04:28 am (UTC)justiceproper plot continuity and characterization. So, um, I'm glad it worked for you?Thanks for reading!
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 05:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-28 04:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 11:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-28 04:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-03 09:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-28 04:29 am (UTC)Thanks for reading!
no subject
Date: 2009-03-04 10:59 pm (UTC)Really love this! :DDD
-plotbunniofdoom.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-28 04:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-12 07:43 pm (UTC)and the journal was PERFECT. i could HEAR fraser saying the words when i read it. like a lot of people, i certainly wouldn't mind hearing more.
♥
no subject
Date: 2009-06-28 04:31 am (UTC)