RayK/Fraser, Fit To Be Dyed
Aug. 9th, 2005 12:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ekaterinnI've wrtten a small ficlet: it's RayK/Fraser, 357 words:
Ray's dripping with paint. Red, blue, green, fucking chartreuse, for all he knows, running down his new leather jacket and his formerly perfectly aged pair of jeans. He smells like smoke and chemicals, his hair is sticky, and the only reason his eyes aren't filled with paint is that he was wearing his glasses when the truck exploded.
He's glaring at Fraser, and shouting, "What is the matter with you! I mean, what, we go after the guy, he's not even a suspect, he's a fucking witness -"
"Ray."
"and then suddenly, it's like, forget that guy, we're going to chase a truck because you smelled something - "
"Ray."
"and so the the truck stopped and because I trust you, I trust you, Fraser, or at least I did, I go running up to it, and, boom, boom -"
"RAY!"
"What?"
"It is generally a good idea to stop to breathe."
"Yeah, well, you don't get to say anything. You're not the person covered with tie-dye." It's true; Fraser looks like he just stepped out of one of the Canada posters in the travel agency that Ray never looked at and imagined what it would be like to live there with Fraser. He still has his hat, even. "You know, that's queer. How come I'm always the human paint sample?"
Fraser rubs his eyebrow. "By what dentition of "queer" are you basing your statement on?" he says, ignoring Ray, who's wiping at his face and glaring down at the paint on his hands, muttering "Smelled something, my ass".
"'Queer', of course, can by a synonym for 'strange' or 'odd', but it could be also used to describe our nighttime activities of the past few weeks." He purses his lips, "Though there have been a few experiences that have occurred in the daylight as well. I don't believe I'll ever think of the men's washroom near the Monkey House in the same way. Possibly the monkeys won't either."
Ray looks up from his hands, tries to wipe them on his jeans, and gives up. "Fraser?"
"Yes, Ray?"
"Shut up and kiss me," and Fraser does.
Feedback would be adored! I also accept death threats for bad puns in the subject line.
Ray's dripping with paint. Red, blue, green, fucking chartreuse, for all he knows, running down his new leather jacket and his formerly perfectly aged pair of jeans. He smells like smoke and chemicals, his hair is sticky, and the only reason his eyes aren't filled with paint is that he was wearing his glasses when the truck exploded.
He's glaring at Fraser, and shouting, "What is the matter with you! I mean, what, we go after the guy, he's not even a suspect, he's a fucking witness -"
"Ray."
"and then suddenly, it's like, forget that guy, we're going to chase a truck because you smelled something - "
"Ray."
"and so the the truck stopped and because I trust you, I trust you, Fraser, or at least I did, I go running up to it, and, boom, boom -"
"RAY!"
"What?"
"It is generally a good idea to stop to breathe."
"Yeah, well, you don't get to say anything. You're not the person covered with tie-dye." It's true; Fraser looks like he just stepped out of one of the Canada posters in the travel agency that Ray never looked at and imagined what it would be like to live there with Fraser. He still has his hat, even. "You know, that's queer. How come I'm always the human paint sample?"
Fraser rubs his eyebrow. "By what dentition of "queer" are you basing your statement on?" he says, ignoring Ray, who's wiping at his face and glaring down at the paint on his hands, muttering "Smelled something, my ass".
"'Queer', of course, can by a synonym for 'strange' or 'odd', but it could be also used to describe our nighttime activities of the past few weeks." He purses his lips, "Though there have been a few experiences that have occurred in the daylight as well. I don't believe I'll ever think of the men's washroom near the Monkey House in the same way. Possibly the monkeys won't either."
Ray looks up from his hands, tries to wipe them on his jeans, and gives up. "Fraser?"
"Yes, Ray?"
"Shut up and kiss me," and Fraser does.
Feedback would be adored! I also accept death threats for bad puns in the subject line.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-08-09 05:51 pm (UTC)Fraser looks like he just stepped out of one of the Canada posters in the travel agency that Ray never looked at and imagined what it would be like to live there with Fraser.
*swoons*
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Date: 2005-08-09 06:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-09 06:01 pm (UTC)Mmm, the idea of a tie-dyed Ray is weirdly appealing... are the spikes of his hair all different colours?
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Date: 2005-08-09 06:11 pm (UTC)are the spikes of his hair all different colours?
Oh, of course. There's the green one, and the red one, the one right in the middle that this wierd shade of blue that's going to linger for weeks.
*laughs* Glad you liked it!
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Date: 2005-08-09 06:50 pm (UTC)Oooh, pretty painted Ray, as pretty as a picture. Fraser's going to get covered in paint at this rate. It's just going to be secondhand paint, like secondhand smoke but sexier and not so bad for you (but it might be fore the dry-cleaner's bill)
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Date: 2005-08-10 02:34 am (UTC)*laughs* Exactly! *grins* Glad you liked!
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Date: 2005-08-09 07:14 pm (UTC)Heh. Lovely!
*grins some more*
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Date: 2005-08-10 02:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-09 07:23 pm (UTC)Fraser looks like he just stepped out of one of the Canada posters in the travel agency that Ray never looked at and imagined what it would be like to live there with Fraser.
*** Awwww! That's so good. Love the way you worded that. :-)
Poor Ray. Hee hee. I bet Fraser will make it up to him. :-)
debraC
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Date: 2005-08-10 02:37 am (UTC)Oh, Fraser owes Ray a lot of "nighttime activities" for pulling this stunt! *grins* Glad you liked!
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Date: 2005-08-10 01:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-10 02:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-10 06:31 am (UTC)Okay, you can have death threats as well. If you must.
no subject
Date: 2005-08-10 06:16 pm (UTC)