Photo Challenge by Aingeal
Mar. 4th, 2009 08:47 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
aingeal8c.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionTitle: The Life of Every Man
Author: Aingeal
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: PG
Wordcount:
Summary: Ray didn't keep a diary. Diaries were something his sister wrote in.
Notes: Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
leda_speaks for beta-ing. Based on the First Photo here.
The Life of Every Man
Ray didn't keep a diary. Diaries were something his sister wrote in. Frannie had had a diary since she was old enough to scribble words on a page. They were usually pink and she often stuck stickers or fancy bits of fluff on them. When she was younger she had had a big picture of Donny Osmond plastered across the front of her then diary. Her current one had a picture of Fraser on it surrounded by love hearts.
If Ray did have a diary, not that he did, love hearts would be the last thing he'd put on it. There were moments, though, when Ray wondered about making a diary, about writing down some of the stuff that came out of Fraser's mouth, the things he did. Everything from helping nuns across to the road to Fraser telling him the best way to cook a caribou.
So it was that he found himself in a store one day, picking up a notebook and buying it. It wasn't an obvious diary. It didn't have the word 'diary' on it and it was plain black, no pink, no fur and no love hearts. It was just a notebook, Ray told himself. It wasn't like he was gong to write in it. It was just something to put on his shelf.
For several weeks the notebook lay forgotten on his bedside table. Ray barely noticed it until one night, laying in bed, he saw it. He was busy thinking about Fraser, like the lovesick teenager he was, and wondered if maybe writing something down would help. It had worked for Fraser's Dad to keep a journal so maybe it would help him.
He wasn't sure what to write. What was he supposed to put? Dear Diary? No, he couldn't put that. He wasn't going to be like Francesca and write to some fictional best friend either. No, there was only one person he could write to: Fraser.
Dear Benny,
Ray paused. What was he going to put now? What did he want to say to Fraser? He sighed and rubbed his eyes. This shouldn't be hard, if his sister could do do this he could. He conjured up the image of his best friend from earlier that day in his red serge, with the big eyed Mountie look. Oh yes, now Ray knew what to write. He picked up his pen and let the words flow out.
Dear Benny,
What were you thinking today? I mean, I know you're a Mountie but I don't think risking your life was in the job description. Sure, you're a cop but most cops do not stand in front of a tank being driven by a criminal. The guy was a fraudster, he stole money form old people, why did you think he'd stop? Okay, so he did but only because I jammed the pole in the track things. Who has a tank on the outskirts of the city anyway? Don't answer that one. I know what you'll say, you'll say something about it being an all terrain vehicle and at least he couldn't break the speed limit but it was a tank, Benny.
You could have been killed. Do you realise that? I know it all worked out and we got the bad guy and all the money got returned but you could have waited for backup. You don't have to go up against the bad guys on your own.. Think before you throw yourself in front of a tank. I don't want to see a flattened Mountie if I get there too late.
Ray felt surprisingly relaxed after writing it all out. He sounded angry on paper, had he really been that angry at Fraser? If he had been it was only because Fraser risked his life so much. The world couldn't afford to lose him. Ray couldn't afford to lose the best friend he had ever had. He didn't want to think about that last thought so instead put the journal down and settled down to sleep.
The journal still sat on the bedside table every night. Sometimes Ray would pick it up and read it. Other times he would write in it. What he wrote varied, some entries were short such as:
Dear Benny,
Do you know how much you're costing me in suit jackets this month? I don't even know how the paint got on it but it was your idea to go into the abandoned warehouse.
Some were longer.
Dear Benny,
You know that woman was flirting with you. That was not just being friendly. You went as red as your uniform when she winked at you, What is it with you and women? They are falling over you but you have that look deer have before a car hits them. Why do you look like you want to run away when they come on to you? Are you just not interested in women? What about guys? Look, if you are it's no big deal. I mean I like both, okay? Yeah, I don't tell anyone but I'm a cop. I can't. Maybe I should tell you.
There were funny entries:
Dear Benny,
For a knock knock joke, that was pretty good. But why did the guy say beaver?
Others were a little more emotional.
Dear Benny,
Look, I hate seeing you get involved in stuff all the time. You know eventually you're going to get hurt. I know that you care and you can't help that and it's not just because you are Canadian but this is the city. It's going to let you down one day, Benny. I know you don't believe that but it will. I wish I could stop it. I wish I could make this city the place you deserve to live in. Okay, so I can't make it Canada but I don't want it to let you down. Just know I'm going to be there when it does, okay?
Sometimes Ray talked about the events that had happened to the two of them:
Dear Benny,
Next time you want to save a kitten trapped in a tree you might want borrow a ladder instead of trying to climb up a sapling and bending it over. At least the kitten was okay.
Occasionally Ray would talk about things that happened that Fraser hadn't seen.
Dear Benny,
Ma asked me to see if I could carry boxes down from the attic. She's doing a spring clean. I know it's summer but Ma always has her spring clean late. She found some of my old school reports. You don't want to know what's in them. Ma hid them so she'll probably show you when you come over for dinner. I hope we get called away on a case.
Dear Benny,
Why does Francesca take an hour and a half in the bathroom? I swear we need to build her her own just so the rest of us can have a shower.
Around the time of Victoria, Ray found he couldn't bring himself to write to Benny. He wondered if Benny had gone, if Benny would ever forgive him for the bullet. The week after he found out Fraser was going to be okay there were two short entries:
Dear Benny,
I'm sorry.
Dear Benny,
I forgive you.
That was all Ray could ever work himself up to say on the matter. He had been so used to pouring out his thoughts to Fraser but somehow Victoria had made him more wary of doing so. It was just a journal and one that Ray was sure Fraser would never read, but somehow he couldn't do it. It was crazy, he knew that, but it was weeks before he was able to pick up the journal again.
Dear Benny,
You know what people say about near death experiences? I mean, of course you do you're walking encyclopaedia. Well, we had one in those woods. Seeing you ill like that was enough to scare me to death. Okay so we got out of there okay but what if we hadn't? What if your head had gotten worse? We could have died out there. I would have had to watch you die. I couldn't have done that, Fraser. I wanted us to try and put Victoria behind us. I think we did. I don't know if you making a bola and us making a raft was the kind of bonding thing that should have worked but I think it did. I know I want to be with you, Benny. I think I've fallen in love with you. Yeah, fallen for my best friend, who I shot. Do you have any idea how it feels? Near death experiences...they make you realise, Benny, they make you realise what matters and you matter to me. I don't care if you never find out because this is enough for me. I get to see you more than anyone else, well okay, not as much as Dief. I get to be with you as a friend. That's enough, okay? But if you want more, I'm not going to say no.
Just don't expect me to put your picture on the front of this journal.
Once he had admitted his love to Fraser, albeit in journal form, Ray found himself writing his entries with a new edge to them. The words seemed to flow out better. When he was frustrated at Fraser and wrote about it he would add the qualifier that he loved him:
Dear Benny,
Please don't jump over rooftops again this week. My heart can't take it. I love you and the last thing I want to see is you falling off a two story building.
There was something so freeing for Ray to be able to write about his love for Fraser in the journal. Everything took on another layer and Ray found he liked it. Sure, writing to the fictional journal Benny wasn't the same as being able to kiss or make love with the real one but it gave him a much needed outlet. He tried not stray into teenage sappiness but sometimes he found his entries didn't look at much different to what Frannie wrote in her diary.
Dear Benny,
You look better in the brown uniform. When you take off your jacket and roll up your sleeves I swear I try not to drool. Those forearms, Benny, wow.
God, I sound like Frannie. Just so you know, I also love your lips and ass and hands...heck, I love all of you.
Dear Benny,
When you do the big eyed Mountie look in the closet it's really hard not to kiss you.
The last entry Ray wrote was bitter sweet. It was literally the hour before he went to Vegas. He had made the phone call to Fraser but somehow it hadn't been enough. There was so much he could have said, had tried to say, but hadn't.
Dear Benny,
I've got to go away for a while. I know, it wasn't my idea, it was the feds, I couldn't say no. Look, things are going to be tough. I am going to hate not being there for you. I just...I love you and I'm going to come back, okay? Just don't get yourself killed. I'm going to pray everyday for you until I get home. I love you.
On the way out of the door Ray had said goodbye to his mother. He'd added, “Ma, there's a journal on the table by my bed. If you think you ever need to, let Benny read it, okay?”
She'd agreed.
Over a year after Ray had made that final entry Mrs Vecchio felt it was time. Ray was on his way home from Florida, another broken relationship behind him. It hadn't been his fault, it hadn't been anyone's fault, but he had needed time to recover form his assignment and he'd hadn't had the chance. Mrs Vecchio was at least grateful Stella had understood that and had encouraged Ray to seek help. He had and that was the reason he was now coming home, where he belonged.
Mrs Vecchio slipped the note into the envelope that held the journal and sealed it. Clutching it, she made her way to the post office, hoping there was still time, that she hadn't left this act too late. She could only hope the journal would reach its recipient and have the desired effect. Once the deed was done she went back to the house to wait.
Several thousand miles and three weeks later Fraser received the package. It was hand delivered by Sergeant Frobisher. He had thanked him and had seen the Chicago postmark. It was a heavy package. Ray Kowalski had chosen to give him some privacy as he opened it. The fact he had received a letter from Maggie at the same time might have had something to do with it.
Fraser opened the package and pulled out a black notebook, a journal, along with a note. He read the note first.
Dear Benton,
Ray told me you should be able to read this one day. I hope it is not too late. He is coming home tomorrow.
The note was unsigned but the writing looked like Ray's mother's.
Fraser noted that a page in the journal was bookmarked. He opened it up to the page and could easily see this was in Ray's handwriting. He had had no idea Ray had kept a journal. He settled down and began to read...
Dear Benny,
You know some people say that when you're in love you see things in technicolour? I think I see things in red serge. I know it's mushy but I do. I mean, Elaine was wearing this red hair clip today? All I could think about was how it was the colour of your uniform. I kept looking at it because it reminded me of you. I think Elaine thinks I'm nuts. I can't exactly tell her that her hair clip reminds me of you. If I did she'd think I was crazy anyway. You know how hard it is not to smile when you come into the room? I'm sure I've been making some weird faces at you when I try not to smile. But I can't help it, I see you and I want to smile because of all the people in Chicago you're there to see me.
I guess if I didn't know I loved you before I do now. I love you, Benny. You and that damned uniform.
Fraser found his hands trembling as he read the entry again. Ray had said he loved him. Ray was in love with him. Full of a nervous excitement, he began to read other entries and his excitement grew. Everything Ray felt about him poured out in stark black and white relief, only now becoming clear. There were signs and there were signs and this was a sign. He would a fool not to act upon it.
With little explanation he announced to Ray Kowalski and Diefenbaker that were heading back to Chicago, Ray's journal clutched in his hands. It had been the bravest thing Ray could do, to write down his innermost thoughts. It was time for Fraser to match that bravery.
Ray was pacing in the family living room. His mother had mailed his journal to Canada. His own mother had given up all his secrets. He didn't know if Fraser had read them. What if he had? What if he had tried to go even further north to escape Ray? The day he had got back Ray had gone hunting for his journal only to find it gone. There was so much he wanted to say. His mother had the strange idea he'd say it in person to Fraser.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Alone in the house for once, Ray went to answer it. There, standing on his doorstep, holding Ray's journal in his hands, was Benton Fraser. It was all Ray could do not to stare.
“Your read my diary,” were the first words out of Ray's mouth.
“Yes. Can I come in Ray?”
Ray nodded and allowed Fraser entrance. He looked well, he looked better than all of Ray's dreams since he had got back. He was still drool worthy and Ray could still write pages on how much he loved how Fraser looked.
“So you read it?” Ray repeated his earlier question, wondering if they shouldn't have this conversation in a more private place but the closet was full of luggage.
“I did, Ray, you mother seemed to think I should,” Fraser replied. “Thank you,” he added and held out the journal to Ray.
"You're thanking me for writing stuff about you that makes Frannie look like a nun?” Ray asked.
“I've never read your sister's diary, nor do I have any intention of reading it. What you wrote, Ray, it was you. It made me feel...loved.”
“You didn't think that before?”
“I hoped, Ray. I didn't know.”
Ray took the journal gingerly, it looked well thumbed. “So, you know I love you?”
Fraser nodded. “Yes. I don't have a journal, Ray. Well, I did have a journal but it was lost in a crevasse. The point is that I share your feelings.”
“About what? Your forearms?”
“I find you have features of your own,” Fraser said, coming close.
Ray placed the journal on the hall table. “Like what?”
“Like your lips,” Fraser replied, his tone ever so slightly husky.
Ray felt himself being pulled in by the strong arms he daydreamed about and he felt those lips he had written were the lips of angel press up against his. Fraser was kissing him and it was better than he had imagined. It was Fraser's lips and Fraser's tongue tasting him. Fraser's arms around him, oh, those arms. It was everything and it would defy Ray's later attempts to put into writing.
“How about we go somewhere more private?” Ray asked, grabbing the journal with one hand as he kept the other firmly around Fraser.
Fraser had just nodded as Ray led him up the stairs.
The next morning the family were back in the house and Ray was awoken by the early morning din. He hadn't even heard them return, but then he had had other things to occupy himself with. He smiled at the warm body pressed up against his own. Fraser was here, in his bed. Soon he would wake up and Ray would have to explain to the family why there were a pair of Mountie boots outside his door.
Until then he would take his time to admire the view. Smiling, he noticed his journal on the table. He reached across Fraser, who barely stirred, and picked up the journal and a pen. He opened it to a fresh page, leaving a few after his last entry, and began to write.
Dear Benny,
Last night was the best night of my life. I mean, it was. You are the best kisser I've met. I mean, that thing you do with your tongue? Who knew a Mountie would know how to do that? And what you do when you grab my...you know. Making love with you is great. It was perfect, even when you squashed my nose. The point is, it was us and me and you, and yeah, your arms. I knew you were up to something.
I love the way you kiss, the way you touch me. I love the way you giggle when someone tickles you just near your knee. I love the way you look when you come. You're beautiful when you do that; I love the way you make me feel and I love the way you fall asleep on me, all tired and sweaty. Do you know how good looking you look like that?
I even love the way you mumble in you sleep.
Ray decided that this journal was pretty full, soon he would need a new one, maybe even several new ones. After-all, he was guessing he and Fraser were going to be doing a lot of things he'd want to write about and he was pretty sure Fraser would want to read about them too.
Author: Aingeal
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: PG
Wordcount:
Summary: Ray didn't keep a diary. Diaries were something his sister wrote in.
Notes: Many thanks to
leda_speaks for beta-ing. Based on the First Photo here.The Life of Every Man
Ray didn't keep a diary. Diaries were something his sister wrote in. Frannie had had a diary since she was old enough to scribble words on a page. They were usually pink and she often stuck stickers or fancy bits of fluff on them. When she was younger she had had a big picture of Donny Osmond plastered across the front of her then diary. Her current one had a picture of Fraser on it surrounded by love hearts.
If Ray did have a diary, not that he did, love hearts would be the last thing he'd put on it. There were moments, though, when Ray wondered about making a diary, about writing down some of the stuff that came out of Fraser's mouth, the things he did. Everything from helping nuns across to the road to Fraser telling him the best way to cook a caribou.
So it was that he found himself in a store one day, picking up a notebook and buying it. It wasn't an obvious diary. It didn't have the word 'diary' on it and it was plain black, no pink, no fur and no love hearts. It was just a notebook, Ray told himself. It wasn't like he was gong to write in it. It was just something to put on his shelf.
For several weeks the notebook lay forgotten on his bedside table. Ray barely noticed it until one night, laying in bed, he saw it. He was busy thinking about Fraser, like the lovesick teenager he was, and wondered if maybe writing something down would help. It had worked for Fraser's Dad to keep a journal so maybe it would help him.
He wasn't sure what to write. What was he supposed to put? Dear Diary? No, he couldn't put that. He wasn't going to be like Francesca and write to some fictional best friend either. No, there was only one person he could write to: Fraser.
Dear Benny,
Ray paused. What was he going to put now? What did he want to say to Fraser? He sighed and rubbed his eyes. This shouldn't be hard, if his sister could do do this he could. He conjured up the image of his best friend from earlier that day in his red serge, with the big eyed Mountie look. Oh yes, now Ray knew what to write. He picked up his pen and let the words flow out.
Dear Benny,
What were you thinking today? I mean, I know you're a Mountie but I don't think risking your life was in the job description. Sure, you're a cop but most cops do not stand in front of a tank being driven by a criminal. The guy was a fraudster, he stole money form old people, why did you think he'd stop? Okay, so he did but only because I jammed the pole in the track things. Who has a tank on the outskirts of the city anyway? Don't answer that one. I know what you'll say, you'll say something about it being an all terrain vehicle and at least he couldn't break the speed limit but it was a tank, Benny.
You could have been killed. Do you realise that? I know it all worked out and we got the bad guy and all the money got returned but you could have waited for backup. You don't have to go up against the bad guys on your own.. Think before you throw yourself in front of a tank. I don't want to see a flattened Mountie if I get there too late.
Ray felt surprisingly relaxed after writing it all out. He sounded angry on paper, had he really been that angry at Fraser? If he had been it was only because Fraser risked his life so much. The world couldn't afford to lose him. Ray couldn't afford to lose the best friend he had ever had. He didn't want to think about that last thought so instead put the journal down and settled down to sleep.
The journal still sat on the bedside table every night. Sometimes Ray would pick it up and read it. Other times he would write in it. What he wrote varied, some entries were short such as:
Dear Benny,
Do you know how much you're costing me in suit jackets this month? I don't even know how the paint got on it but it was your idea to go into the abandoned warehouse.
Some were longer.
Dear Benny,
You know that woman was flirting with you. That was not just being friendly. You went as red as your uniform when she winked at you, What is it with you and women? They are falling over you but you have that look deer have before a car hits them. Why do you look like you want to run away when they come on to you? Are you just not interested in women? What about guys? Look, if you are it's no big deal. I mean I like both, okay? Yeah, I don't tell anyone but I'm a cop. I can't. Maybe I should tell you.
There were funny entries:
Dear Benny,
For a knock knock joke, that was pretty good. But why did the guy say beaver?
Others were a little more emotional.
Dear Benny,
Look, I hate seeing you get involved in stuff all the time. You know eventually you're going to get hurt. I know that you care and you can't help that and it's not just because you are Canadian but this is the city. It's going to let you down one day, Benny. I know you don't believe that but it will. I wish I could stop it. I wish I could make this city the place you deserve to live in. Okay, so I can't make it Canada but I don't want it to let you down. Just know I'm going to be there when it does, okay?
Sometimes Ray talked about the events that had happened to the two of them:
Dear Benny,
Next time you want to save a kitten trapped in a tree you might want borrow a ladder instead of trying to climb up a sapling and bending it over. At least the kitten was okay.
Occasionally Ray would talk about things that happened that Fraser hadn't seen.
Dear Benny,
Ma asked me to see if I could carry boxes down from the attic. She's doing a spring clean. I know it's summer but Ma always has her spring clean late. She found some of my old school reports. You don't want to know what's in them. Ma hid them so she'll probably show you when you come over for dinner. I hope we get called away on a case.
Dear Benny,
Why does Francesca take an hour and a half in the bathroom? I swear we need to build her her own just so the rest of us can have a shower.
Around the time of Victoria, Ray found he couldn't bring himself to write to Benny. He wondered if Benny had gone, if Benny would ever forgive him for the bullet. The week after he found out Fraser was going to be okay there were two short entries:
Dear Benny,
I'm sorry.
Dear Benny,
I forgive you.
That was all Ray could ever work himself up to say on the matter. He had been so used to pouring out his thoughts to Fraser but somehow Victoria had made him more wary of doing so. It was just a journal and one that Ray was sure Fraser would never read, but somehow he couldn't do it. It was crazy, he knew that, but it was weeks before he was able to pick up the journal again.
Dear Benny,
You know what people say about near death experiences? I mean, of course you do you're walking encyclopaedia. Well, we had one in those woods. Seeing you ill like that was enough to scare me to death. Okay so we got out of there okay but what if we hadn't? What if your head had gotten worse? We could have died out there. I would have had to watch you die. I couldn't have done that, Fraser. I wanted us to try and put Victoria behind us. I think we did. I don't know if you making a bola and us making a raft was the kind of bonding thing that should have worked but I think it did. I know I want to be with you, Benny. I think I've fallen in love with you. Yeah, fallen for my best friend, who I shot. Do you have any idea how it feels? Near death experiences...they make you realise, Benny, they make you realise what matters and you matter to me. I don't care if you never find out because this is enough for me. I get to see you more than anyone else, well okay, not as much as Dief. I get to be with you as a friend. That's enough, okay? But if you want more, I'm not going to say no.
Just don't expect me to put your picture on the front of this journal.
Once he had admitted his love to Fraser, albeit in journal form, Ray found himself writing his entries with a new edge to them. The words seemed to flow out better. When he was frustrated at Fraser and wrote about it he would add the qualifier that he loved him:
Dear Benny,
Please don't jump over rooftops again this week. My heart can't take it. I love you and the last thing I want to see is you falling off a two story building.
There was something so freeing for Ray to be able to write about his love for Fraser in the journal. Everything took on another layer and Ray found he liked it. Sure, writing to the fictional journal Benny wasn't the same as being able to kiss or make love with the real one but it gave him a much needed outlet. He tried not stray into teenage sappiness but sometimes he found his entries didn't look at much different to what Frannie wrote in her diary.
Dear Benny,
You look better in the brown uniform. When you take off your jacket and roll up your sleeves I swear I try not to drool. Those forearms, Benny, wow.
God, I sound like Frannie. Just so you know, I also love your lips and ass and hands...heck, I love all of you.
Dear Benny,
When you do the big eyed Mountie look in the closet it's really hard not to kiss you.
The last entry Ray wrote was bitter sweet. It was literally the hour before he went to Vegas. He had made the phone call to Fraser but somehow it hadn't been enough. There was so much he could have said, had tried to say, but hadn't.
Dear Benny,
I've got to go away for a while. I know, it wasn't my idea, it was the feds, I couldn't say no. Look, things are going to be tough. I am going to hate not being there for you. I just...I love you and I'm going to come back, okay? Just don't get yourself killed. I'm going to pray everyday for you until I get home. I love you.
On the way out of the door Ray had said goodbye to his mother. He'd added, “Ma, there's a journal on the table by my bed. If you think you ever need to, let Benny read it, okay?”
She'd agreed.
Over a year after Ray had made that final entry Mrs Vecchio felt it was time. Ray was on his way home from Florida, another broken relationship behind him. It hadn't been his fault, it hadn't been anyone's fault, but he had needed time to recover form his assignment and he'd hadn't had the chance. Mrs Vecchio was at least grateful Stella had understood that and had encouraged Ray to seek help. He had and that was the reason he was now coming home, where he belonged.
Mrs Vecchio slipped the note into the envelope that held the journal and sealed it. Clutching it, she made her way to the post office, hoping there was still time, that she hadn't left this act too late. She could only hope the journal would reach its recipient and have the desired effect. Once the deed was done she went back to the house to wait.
Several thousand miles and three weeks later Fraser received the package. It was hand delivered by Sergeant Frobisher. He had thanked him and had seen the Chicago postmark. It was a heavy package. Ray Kowalski had chosen to give him some privacy as he opened it. The fact he had received a letter from Maggie at the same time might have had something to do with it.
Fraser opened the package and pulled out a black notebook, a journal, along with a note. He read the note first.
Dear Benton,
Ray told me you should be able to read this one day. I hope it is not too late. He is coming home tomorrow.
The note was unsigned but the writing looked like Ray's mother's.
Fraser noted that a page in the journal was bookmarked. He opened it up to the page and could easily see this was in Ray's handwriting. He had had no idea Ray had kept a journal. He settled down and began to read...
Dear Benny,
You know some people say that when you're in love you see things in technicolour? I think I see things in red serge. I know it's mushy but I do. I mean, Elaine was wearing this red hair clip today? All I could think about was how it was the colour of your uniform. I kept looking at it because it reminded me of you. I think Elaine thinks I'm nuts. I can't exactly tell her that her hair clip reminds me of you. If I did she'd think I was crazy anyway. You know how hard it is not to smile when you come into the room? I'm sure I've been making some weird faces at you when I try not to smile. But I can't help it, I see you and I want to smile because of all the people in Chicago you're there to see me.
I guess if I didn't know I loved you before I do now. I love you, Benny. You and that damned uniform.
Fraser found his hands trembling as he read the entry again. Ray had said he loved him. Ray was in love with him. Full of a nervous excitement, he began to read other entries and his excitement grew. Everything Ray felt about him poured out in stark black and white relief, only now becoming clear. There were signs and there were signs and this was a sign. He would a fool not to act upon it.
With little explanation he announced to Ray Kowalski and Diefenbaker that were heading back to Chicago, Ray's journal clutched in his hands. It had been the bravest thing Ray could do, to write down his innermost thoughts. It was time for Fraser to match that bravery.
Ray was pacing in the family living room. His mother had mailed his journal to Canada. His own mother had given up all his secrets. He didn't know if Fraser had read them. What if he had? What if he had tried to go even further north to escape Ray? The day he had got back Ray had gone hunting for his journal only to find it gone. There was so much he wanted to say. His mother had the strange idea he'd say it in person to Fraser.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Alone in the house for once, Ray went to answer it. There, standing on his doorstep, holding Ray's journal in his hands, was Benton Fraser. It was all Ray could do not to stare.
“Your read my diary,” were the first words out of Ray's mouth.
“Yes. Can I come in Ray?”
Ray nodded and allowed Fraser entrance. He looked well, he looked better than all of Ray's dreams since he had got back. He was still drool worthy and Ray could still write pages on how much he loved how Fraser looked.
“So you read it?” Ray repeated his earlier question, wondering if they shouldn't have this conversation in a more private place but the closet was full of luggage.
“I did, Ray, you mother seemed to think I should,” Fraser replied. “Thank you,” he added and held out the journal to Ray.
"You're thanking me for writing stuff about you that makes Frannie look like a nun?” Ray asked.
“I've never read your sister's diary, nor do I have any intention of reading it. What you wrote, Ray, it was you. It made me feel...loved.”
“You didn't think that before?”
“I hoped, Ray. I didn't know.”
Ray took the journal gingerly, it looked well thumbed. “So, you know I love you?”
Fraser nodded. “Yes. I don't have a journal, Ray. Well, I did have a journal but it was lost in a crevasse. The point is that I share your feelings.”
“About what? Your forearms?”
“I find you have features of your own,” Fraser said, coming close.
Ray placed the journal on the hall table. “Like what?”
“Like your lips,” Fraser replied, his tone ever so slightly husky.
Ray felt himself being pulled in by the strong arms he daydreamed about and he felt those lips he had written were the lips of angel press up against his. Fraser was kissing him and it was better than he had imagined. It was Fraser's lips and Fraser's tongue tasting him. Fraser's arms around him, oh, those arms. It was everything and it would defy Ray's later attempts to put into writing.
“How about we go somewhere more private?” Ray asked, grabbing the journal with one hand as he kept the other firmly around Fraser.
Fraser had just nodded as Ray led him up the stairs.
The next morning the family were back in the house and Ray was awoken by the early morning din. He hadn't even heard them return, but then he had had other things to occupy himself with. He smiled at the warm body pressed up against his own. Fraser was here, in his bed. Soon he would wake up and Ray would have to explain to the family why there were a pair of Mountie boots outside his door.
Until then he would take his time to admire the view. Smiling, he noticed his journal on the table. He reached across Fraser, who barely stirred, and picked up the journal and a pen. He opened it to a fresh page, leaving a few after his last entry, and began to write.
Dear Benny,
Last night was the best night of my life. I mean, it was. You are the best kisser I've met. I mean, that thing you do with your tongue? Who knew a Mountie would know how to do that? And what you do when you grab my...you know. Making love with you is great. It was perfect, even when you squashed my nose. The point is, it was us and me and you, and yeah, your arms. I knew you were up to something.
I love the way you kiss, the way you touch me. I love the way you giggle when someone tickles you just near your knee. I love the way you look when you come. You're beautiful when you do that; I love the way you make me feel and I love the way you fall asleep on me, all tired and sweaty. Do you know how good looking you look like that?
I even love the way you mumble in you sleep.
Ray decided that this journal was pretty full, soon he would need a new one, maybe even several new ones. After-all, he was guessing he and Fraser were going to be doing a lot of things he'd want to write about and he was pretty sure Fraser would want to read about them too.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-03-04 12:52 pm (UTC)I love this (it's in my Aingeal file).
There are so many wonderful emotions in it, humour, pathos, sniffle-making, affection, friendship, fun and so much love.
I love the idea of Ray writing in his journal as though he was writing to Benny and telling him all this thoughts and finally confessing his love there. And I how Mrs. Vecchio mailed it to Benny and then Benny came to Ray and . . .
Really moving and touching and wonderful.
Loved it.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 06:39 pm (UTC)Ooo file worthy yay.
I'm glad you found it had a good mix of emotions. I thought the idea of Ray writing a journal was a bit different.
Aww thank you.
Yay. I am glad.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-09 12:00 pm (UTC)Very much so.
It certainly did. And yes, it was different and so good.
YW
*Smiles*
no subject
Date: 2009-03-06 05:42 am (UTC)Many laugh-out-loud moments, including:
Dear Benny,
Next time you want to save a kitten trapped in a tree you might want borrow a ladder instead of trying to climb up a sapling and bending it over. At least the kitten was okay.
and
She found some of my old school reports. You don't want to know what's in them. Ma hid them so she'll probably show you when you come over for dinner.
Oh, *LOVE*
Also, some whimper-out-loud moments:
“Ma, there's a journal on the table by my bed. If you think you ever need to, let Benny read it, okay?”
And
Please don't jump over rooftops again this week. My heart can't take it.
(OK, I'll stop quoting it all back to you now :)
I really like that Ma Vecchio seems to be in the know about her son's best interests. And had she bookmarked that particular page before sending the journal to Fraser? Or was it just chance, where the bookmark happened to be tucked? Or was it the last entry Ray had read before leaving for Vegas? (Eager reader's questions, not requiring an answer if there isn't one :)
The ending just made me so *happy* Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 06:17 pm (UTC)I'm glad you could hear him.
Aww thank you for qwuoting. I'm pleased parts made you laugh.
I do think Ma Vecchio is one of those perceptive mothers. I think that it was an entry Ray bookmarked but Ma vecchio read it before sending it off and approved of it.
Awww yay I am glad. Thanks for reading and for your lovely comment. :-)