mrsronweasley (
mrsronweasley) wrote2006-08-04 01:26 pm
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Entry tags:
Two drabbles!
In response to
starfishchick's prompt:
Fraser/RayK, fingers.
Fraser froze, his metaphorical fingers caught in the metaphorical cookie jar. Except that the fingers in question were, in actuality, Ray's, and the cookie jar that had left Fraser heart-stricken was Ray's gaze, pinning him in place. Fraser was caught as surely as Ray’s fingers in Ray’s mouth, as he licked them clean of the powdered sugar coating his hands.
The break room was nearly empty, the late hour of the night a testament to the unorthodox hours they had been keeping as of late, and Fraser could not find a spot where he did not feel Ray’s gaze on him. Ray, who had caught him staring, staring shamelessly, at Ray’s hands, Fraser’s thoughts as unclean as his face was surely red.
Ray’s thumb was caught between his teeth, the wide knuckle just visible over the barrier. It glistened a bit with Ray’s saliva, where his full lips had touched it. Fraser could not see it, but he could well imagine Ray’s tongue, sucking the sweetness clean off his finger, soft and pliable against the rougher skin.
Fraser swallowed, and looked away. He could feel his skin burning, getting hot under his collar. The silence of the room pounded in his ears.
The silence which Ray broke as his finger slipped out his mouth with a soft ‘pop’. Fraser rode the sound of it, clenching his teeth so as to not make any noise. Aware only of his heart beat and his boots, scuffed after a full day’s work, he only noticed Ray when he was barely a foot apart.
“Fraser.”
Fraser did not want to look up, he had given too much away already. His head whirled with ways in which he could escape this situation, talk both himself and Ray out of any ramifications.
“Fraser.”
He was frozen in place. Now, even if he wanted to look up, he could not. He closed his eyes and concentrated on not thinking. Impossible thought in itself.
“Fraser.”
Ray’s damp thumb against his cheek was such a shock, Fraser’s head snapped up against his will, and his eyes locked in with Ray’s.
He thought that he had forgotten what it felt like to have your stomach burn with fear. Ray’s gaze brought the feeling back full force. Fear and lust and tenderness swirled in his head, his hands, his toes, and when he finally exhaled, it was to give Ray the breath that he, himself, had been holding. He felt Ray’s fingers threading through his hair and realized that he no longer had to imagine how Ray’s hands would feel on his body, or Ray’s lips against his.
In response to
soupytwist's prompt: words ubiquitous, legendary and asphalt in:
"Ray. Ray. Ray."
"Yeah."
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah. I fell on a flat surface, but other than that I'm just dandy, Fraser."
"I am glad to hear it. Would you like a hand up?"
Ray struggled to his feet and wiped his hands on the seat of his pants. "I said I'm fine, Fraser."
"I never suggested it was otherwise. I merely wondered-"
"Well, don't," Ray interrupted, lifting a finger in warning. "Nothing happened here, capisce?"
Puzzled, Fraser decided to play along. "Of course, Ray. Just as you say."
"Right. Good. Okay. Let's go nail those bastards." Ray turned on his heel and began walking, his stride surer than ever. Fraser fell into step, Dief flanking their collective rear.
Unsure how to act in the silence, Fraser decided that reassuring Ray that, despite it having 'not happened', his falling on what appeared to be a flat surface to an untrained eye was nothing to be ashamed of.
"You know, Ray, I once knew a Mountie - a legendary Mountie, in fact, one whose acts of heroism won him the love of all of Canada - who could perceive the smallest of faults in asphalt."
He waited for Ray's reaction, and when it came - a certain kind of grunt that told him Ray was listening, even while not willing to acknowledge said fact - he carried on.
"And this legendary man once claimed that faults in asphalt were ubiquitous, and, in fact, claimed that they had been left in the concrete on purpose, so as to confound the average walker and trip him or her up on their way to success."
"Ubi-what's-it?"
"Ubiquitous, Ray. Ever-present," Fraser elucidated.
"Did he fall on his ass a lot?"
"Well..." Fraser's loyalty to his fellow countrymen and colleagues warred with his need to appease Ray's wounded dignity. The latter won out. "Yes, yes he did."
"Legendary, huh?" Ray sounded almost his usual self.
"Quite legendary, Ray."
"For falling on his ass, right?"
"Well..." Fraser bid his goodwill thoughts a fond farewell. "Mostly. Yes."
"Thanks, Frase. That really doesn't help."
However, to Fraser's ears, Ray's tone suggested quite the opposite. He allowed a small smile through. "You're quite welcome, Ray. Any time."
This is all I had time for.
strangecobwebs, yours will have to come later!
Thank you all for playing. I THANK YOU.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Fraser/RayK, fingers.
Fraser froze, his metaphorical fingers caught in the metaphorical cookie jar. Except that the fingers in question were, in actuality, Ray's, and the cookie jar that had left Fraser heart-stricken was Ray's gaze, pinning him in place. Fraser was caught as surely as Ray’s fingers in Ray’s mouth, as he licked them clean of the powdered sugar coating his hands.
The break room was nearly empty, the late hour of the night a testament to the unorthodox hours they had been keeping as of late, and Fraser could not find a spot where he did not feel Ray’s gaze on him. Ray, who had caught him staring, staring shamelessly, at Ray’s hands, Fraser’s thoughts as unclean as his face was surely red.
Ray’s thumb was caught between his teeth, the wide knuckle just visible over the barrier. It glistened a bit with Ray’s saliva, where his full lips had touched it. Fraser could not see it, but he could well imagine Ray’s tongue, sucking the sweetness clean off his finger, soft and pliable against the rougher skin.
Fraser swallowed, and looked away. He could feel his skin burning, getting hot under his collar. The silence of the room pounded in his ears.
The silence which Ray broke as his finger slipped out his mouth with a soft ‘pop’. Fraser rode the sound of it, clenching his teeth so as to not make any noise. Aware only of his heart beat and his boots, scuffed after a full day’s work, he only noticed Ray when he was barely a foot apart.
“Fraser.”
Fraser did not want to look up, he had given too much away already. His head whirled with ways in which he could escape this situation, talk both himself and Ray out of any ramifications.
“Fraser.”
He was frozen in place. Now, even if he wanted to look up, he could not. He closed his eyes and concentrated on not thinking. Impossible thought in itself.
“Fraser.”
Ray’s damp thumb against his cheek was such a shock, Fraser’s head snapped up against his will, and his eyes locked in with Ray’s.
He thought that he had forgotten what it felt like to have your stomach burn with fear. Ray’s gaze brought the feeling back full force. Fear and lust and tenderness swirled in his head, his hands, his toes, and when he finally exhaled, it was to give Ray the breath that he, himself, had been holding. He felt Ray’s fingers threading through his hair and realized that he no longer had to imagine how Ray’s hands would feel on his body, or Ray’s lips against his.
In response to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
"Ray. Ray. Ray."
"Yeah."
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah. I fell on a flat surface, but other than that I'm just dandy, Fraser."
"I am glad to hear it. Would you like a hand up?"
Ray struggled to his feet and wiped his hands on the seat of his pants. "I said I'm fine, Fraser."
"I never suggested it was otherwise. I merely wondered-"
"Well, don't," Ray interrupted, lifting a finger in warning. "Nothing happened here, capisce?"
Puzzled, Fraser decided to play along. "Of course, Ray. Just as you say."
"Right. Good. Okay. Let's go nail those bastards." Ray turned on his heel and began walking, his stride surer than ever. Fraser fell into step, Dief flanking their collective rear.
Unsure how to act in the silence, Fraser decided that reassuring Ray that, despite it having 'not happened', his falling on what appeared to be a flat surface to an untrained eye was nothing to be ashamed of.
"You know, Ray, I once knew a Mountie - a legendary Mountie, in fact, one whose acts of heroism won him the love of all of Canada - who could perceive the smallest of faults in asphalt."
He waited for Ray's reaction, and when it came - a certain kind of grunt that told him Ray was listening, even while not willing to acknowledge said fact - he carried on.
"And this legendary man once claimed that faults in asphalt were ubiquitous, and, in fact, claimed that they had been left in the concrete on purpose, so as to confound the average walker and trip him or her up on their way to success."
"Ubi-what's-it?"
"Ubiquitous, Ray. Ever-present," Fraser elucidated.
"Did he fall on his ass a lot?"
"Well..." Fraser's loyalty to his fellow countrymen and colleagues warred with his need to appease Ray's wounded dignity. The latter won out. "Yes, yes he did."
"Legendary, huh?" Ray sounded almost his usual self.
"Quite legendary, Ray."
"For falling on his ass, right?"
"Well..." Fraser bid his goodwill thoughts a fond farewell. "Mostly. Yes."
"Thanks, Frase. That really doesn't help."
However, to Fraser's ears, Ray's tone suggested quite the opposite. He allowed a small smile through. "You're quite welcome, Ray. Any time."
This is all I had time for.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Thank you all for playing. I THANK YOU.