two things

[schmerica]

I made this for kormantic, because wee Stella and wee Vecchio make me me clutch my heart with glee.

As usual, click on the image to go to the story.

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I wrote this for aerye, because she was having a painful day, and you people wrote me comment fic when I was having pain yesterday, and comment karma should be passed around.

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Um, I could entertain you with thoughts of how I really want to write an AU where Vecchio's bullet actually cripples Fraser in Victoria's Secret, but I cannot actually tell when you like the pain (see: last week's ds recs) and when it goes too far and you start calling me mean (see: lots of other times).

So instead I will give you some comment porn and tell you about how, when it first starts getting real cold, cold enough to have a fire at night, Fraser always wants to sit right there in the floor in front of it -- not the bed, even though it's only a couple feet away, and they have chairs and stuff over at the table they could move over and sit like real people, but Fraser doesn't want that, either. So even though Ray doesn't get it, he always ends up helping Fraser move all the quilts and furs from their bed into a big pile on the floor. Fraser would just sit there on the hardwood all by himself, but if Ray's going to be there with him, he's damn sure going to be comfortable about it. Sometimes they both just sit there and act real quiet, and Fraser whittles and tells Ray weird stories, and sometimes Ray lies down with his head in Fraser's lap and Fraser runs his fingers through his hair while he stares into the flames and Ray falls asleep like that, cozy, warm, more relaxed than he can remember his body ever being before he moved out here with Fraser and all this quietness and emptiness and stillness.

Sometimes they fuck like that, Fraser pushing him down on the mountain of pillows and blankets and it's dark by then, nothing except the firelight so Ray can't see anything except Fraser right here, all blurry and flickering, and he can't hear anything except the crackling of the wood and the wolves howling and his own breathing and Fraser talking, muttering at him, saying all the stuff into Ray's skin he doesn't say any other time except right now. And later on Ray might get cranky and steal everything back so he can go to bed like a real person, or turn on some lights so he can read or find food to eat, or they'll get into another one of their stupid bickery fights that always seem to come out of nowhere, but right now it's him and Fraser, Fraser and him, the two of them together against the world like it's never going to end, and Ray knows, Ray knows, Ray knows.

Comments

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

Hee. That's probably not necessary -- I doubt Dief is as polite, for exampe. And thank you!