ds_flashfiction | Divide by Zero (Rules of the Internet challenge), by WriteDragon

Title: Divide by Zero
Author: WriteDragon

Rating: M

Word count: 1,585

Warnings: No warnings apply

Ships: Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski

Tags: falling in love and things that suck

Summary: Rules of the Internet #37: You cannot divide by zero. Because it will cause a black hole and eat up the universe, or something. That’s what falling in love with Fraser feels like. Probably.

Notes: Written for the DS flashfiction community on DreamWidth, for the “Rules of the internet challenge”.

_____________

Black Holes Suck.

TV’s on, loud enough to drown out my thoughts, but hopefully not loud enough to get my landlady mad enough to bang on her ceiling, my floor. I need it loud because I don’t want to think about work today, about that last case, the one with the smugglers and the Mexican wrestling gang and the parrot.

The one that sums up the insanity my life has become. The one where Fraser and I got tied up together and shoved in a storeroom with a kidnapped bird.

“The hyacinth macaw is a rare and valuable animal, Ray,” he said, squirming against the ropes, "and trafficking in endangered species can be quite a lucrative business for those with nefarious intent.”

“Shut up, Fraser. And quit moving so much. You’re making the knots tighter.”

“Understood.”

It was all I could do to focus on getting out of there and collaring the bird smugglers rather than what I actually wanted to do, which was pop Fraser for getting my ass into this mess, then kiss the snot out of him for saving that same ass. Again.

There we were, side by side in the dark, the smell of leather and wool and neatsfoot oil coming off him, the heat of his body against mine ... and that stupid parrot squawking, “Who’s a pretty boy? You are! Kiss kiss!” the whole damn time. I wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream, all at once. It’s bad enough I’ve got the hots for Fraser, a fact that I keep trying and failing miserably to forget. The last thing I need is some fucking bird shouting it to the world.

My life has become a badly written comic book dreamed up by a madman, and sometimes, like right now, I just want to forget all of it.

I squeeze my eyes tight and try to listen to the news instead, waiting for the sports scores to come on.

When I open my eyes again, there’s a shot of some dudes protesting, carrying signs and shouting. Protestors are nothing new, but these nutbars are blockading a science building, some research center in France. They’re protesting one of those super-collision thingys that smash up atoms, saying that if it gets switched on, it will make a black hole that could swallow the earth.

One guy with dreadlocks and nerd glasses keeps talking about dividing by zero. You can’t divide by zero, he says, because it will cause a black hole and eat up the universe, or something. I have no idea what dividing by zero has to do with smashing up atoms or black holes, but this guy seems really worried about it.

I ain’t no rocket scientist, that’s for sure. And there are plenty of days, more of them lately, that I don’t know who I am at all. On days like today, I don’t even want to know.

A commercial with a guy in a red jacket and a cowboy hat selling used cars comes on. He looks, weirdly, a bit like Fraser. But once he opens his mouth and starts yelling about Billy-Bob’s Texas-sized deals, it’s too annoying even for me, so I mute the volume.

I keep staring at the screen, but I can’t stop thinking about being tied up with Fraser in the dark, and what the protester said about black holes. Not even light can get out of a black hole, which is why it’s black. I think.

I worry, somewhere in the back of my mind, that’s what falling in love with Fraser would feel like. Like being swallowed by a black hole.

The pull of him. It’s so strong, like one of those giant magnets that picks up cars at the wrecking yard, but bigger. Since the day we met I’ve been circling him, dancing around him, getting closer and closer until I don’t think I could get away even if I wanted to. And sometimes I really, really want to.

Other times, I imagine what it would be like to just let go, jump in, fall into that blackness the way I sometimes fall into the blue of his eyes before I can stop myself.

It hurts my brain to think about it, about him. It pulls on my heart too, with an ache so tight I can hardly stand it.

If I let myself think about it too much, I’m afraid I won’t ever be able to climb back out again.

So I don’t.

_____________

“What happens when you divide by zero?” Ray asks me. We’ve stopped at a red light, the GTO’s engines humming, his fingers drumming a nervous cadence on the steering wheel.

“It’s undefined,” I say. “Therefore I cannot give you an answer.”

“Thanks for nothing,” he replies, sarcasm tinging his words. I laugh at his joke, but he glares at me. Perhaps he fails to understand why that is amusing.

“Would it, you know, destroy the universe?” he asks. “Make a black hole or something?”

My brow crinkles. His question is sincere, so I attempt to answer in the spirit in which it was asked.

“Of course not, Ray. Dividing something by nothing — by zero — simply isn’t a thing you can do. It doesn’t make any sense.”

He turns to stare at me, his gaze flicking to my lips then back to my eyes, tongue working at the corner of his mouth. I swallow.

He blushes.

“Doesn’t make sense. Right,” he says, turning back to watch the traffic swirling around us.

The light changes from fiery red to lurid green. Ray guns the engine and the car lurches forward into the glittering Chicago twilight, conversation seemingly ended.

I have no idea what that was about, but there’s no mistaking the tingle on the back of my neck nor the tightness of the collar at my throat.

I fix my gaze out the window, letting my vision blur, and think of snow.

_____________

Stakeouts Suck.

We’re hiding in a dark, nearly-empty apartment. It overlooks a corner of Chicago real estate that’s even seedier than the dump Fraser lived in before Greta the Torch burned it down.

It’s the middle of the night. The goon we’re supposed to be watching has probably gone to sleep, lucky bastard. I can barely stay awake, even with a quart of coffee running through my veins and the rough wood of the floorboards flattening my ass until it hurts.

I’m leaning on Fraser, eyes half closed, yawning like an idiot, losing it. I’m so fucking tired.

“Get some sleep, Ray,” he says. His voice is soft and warm and close to my ear. “I’ll take this watch.”

Sleep. Right. God, yes. Thank you Fraser. Finally.

“Nighty night,” I mumble, and bury my head into his neck.

___________

We’re on a stakeout, in the middle of the night. I have taken the first watch out of courtesy for my partner, who is clearly in desperate need of sleep. He has been awake for nearly thirty-six hours and I fear for his health.

Ray is so exhausted that he falls asleep the instant I offer, leaning against my shoulder, not even bothering to lie down on the floor. He is restless, even now. He moves, snuggling against me, the spiky fuzz of his hair tickling the space between my jaw and collarbone.

He moves again, and I realize with a start that he’s kissing me on the neck. His warm lips caress my skin, and the soft liquid tip of his tongue flickers across my pulse point, just for an instant.

I tense, but only for a moment, and wonder if he even knows he’s done it.

Most likely he’s dreaming, probably about Stella, or the pretty brunette from our most recent case. I breathe deeply and try to relax my muscles so as not to wake him.

He repeats the gesture, open mouthed this time, sending a shiver down my spine and straight to my groin.

I am debating whether to interrupt this interlude to rescue us both from potential embarrassment, when he goes still at last, his breathing deep and steady. He burrows into my neck again, whispering my name in a contented, barely audible sigh.

My name. Mine.

My ears fill with the sounds of screeching brakes, crunching metal, and worlds colliding, leaving my heart pounding and cheeks burning ... but it’s all in my head.

The night is silent, save for the hum of streetlights and the sounds of our breathing in the darkness.

________

Snow Sucks.

It’s snowing again, outside the tent, like it always does. If we ever find the reaching out hand it’ll be a miracle, but that doesn’t matter so much anymore. Not really.

Because I found something better.

I kissed him. For real this time. Last night. In the tent, as we were falling asleep, huddling for warmth like we always do.

The universe didn’t implode, so that’s good. In fact he kissed me back, and acted like he meant it. Liked it. Fuck, loved it, even. It was good. It was great, greatness.

I don’t know exactly what will happen now, not really, but it’s kinda cozy here in this black hole, so I think I’ll stick around awhile. Maybe forever.

I still don’t know who I’d be without him, but that doesn’t really matter anymore, either.

As Fraser would say, the question doesn’t make any sense. Trying to divide us by anything, or anyone, now, not gonna happen.

And I’m okay with that.