Loz (lozenger8) wrote,

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It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

Title: In Anticipation of Christmas
Fandom: due South
Word Count: 770 words.
Notes: G. Fraser/Ray K. Three lines of this came to me at different moments of the day. I eventually decided it was fiction calling out to me and decided to write it. I didn’t do the ds_seekritsanta because I’m still so new to it all and I didn’t really want to impose another deadline on myself. But hey, my creative streak doesn’t know things like that.

The tree is in the corner. It’s pine. Needles have become embedded into the carpet but he doesn’t care because the scent and the scenery more than made up for it. He won’t admit this to anyone, but he secretly always looks forward to Christmas. It isn’t like it makes his whole year or anything, it hasn’t been that way since he was a kid, but there is something about Christmas which warms him.

Not every Christmas has been enjoyable. Far from it. Particularly in the first year when things went sour with Stella, Christmas sucked. It was cold, uncomfortable and constricting. Regardless, the year after, he still looked forward to Christmas.

He’s looked forward to this Christmas, too. His joyful anticipation is destined to be short-lived, but he feels he should live in the moment, at least for a little while.

The tree only needs finishing touches now. He’s already strategically placed the baubles given to him by his parents. He arranges the glittering tinsel Fraser bought for him. Next there’s going to be some sprinkling of confetti as fake snow. By the end, it will be the best tree he’s ever decorated, with or without help.

He doesn’t really know why he’s bothering. It makes him feel good now. But he knows that tomorrow he’s going to look back at the tree and feel the worst he’s ever felt in his whole life. He knows that there’s every chance he’s never going to look forward to Christmas again.

Fraser comes in from the next room. He’s wearing his full ceremonial uniform. He looks like he belongs in miniature form on the tree, not standing next to it, looking at Ray questioningly.

When he kisses him, he doesn’t think he’s ever going to see him again. It’s one of those “if the world ends tomorrow” things. There are no consequences. He has to do this. If he doesn’t do this then he’ll hate himself, which, in the scheme of things, is something he’s already done for far too long.

He doesn’t expect him to kiss back. A hand comes from nowhere to sweep up to his shoulderblades and hold him firmly in place. He can feel soft stubble brushing against his own. And it’s so Fraser. It’s so totally Fraser kissing him back. It’s amazing, it’s wonderful, it’s greatness.

He pulls away.

“I’m leaving.”

“I know.”

There are so many things he wants to say, has to say, but he can’t. He kisses him. Again. And again. Until he can barely breathe and wouldn’t want to. The stinging in his eyes is a painful distraction. He moves away again. This time he separates their bodies and turns to stand facing the window. There’s nothing to see. The tree and Fraser are placed behind him.

“I don’t want to. I have to.”

“I know, Ray, I know.”

“This was always a temporary position.”


“If there was any other way, I’d take it.”

“I understand.”

“You know, you’re usually more verbal than this, Fraser.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t you get it? I am. I’m sorry. It’s me who should be apologising.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Ray. You’re just doing your job.”

He feels Fraser’s hand on his shoulder. He obediently goes to meet him face to face. He lets Fraser brush his fingers through his experimental hair. He almost smiles when Fraser mumbles something about a haircut. He balances the height difference between them so he and Fraser are staring eye to eye.

“You’re one of a kind, d’you know that?”

There’s a flash of something in Fraser’s expression. Anger? Frustration? Impatience? It’s the look he gets when he thinks one of his ‘save-the-world’ missions is at a dead-end. That is, until he saves the world.

“I’ll wait,” he says. Ray glances at the tree because he can’t stand to look at the determination Fraser has any longer. “I will wait for you, Ray.”

“If it takes forever, right Frase?”

“You don’t believe me?”

“No, I do. I really do. That’s the problem.”

He takes a deep breath and steps closer to Fraser again. He presses his lips against Fraser’s lightly. Fraser holds him as if he’s never letting go. Eventually they move away from one another once more. Ray continues to arrange the tinsel as Fraser liberally shakes white confetti over the branches. The tree glitters into life as Ray turns on the power. Ray thinks that even if this is the last Christmas he ever looks forward to, it’s worth it. Fraser smiles at him and he smiles back. Might as well enjoy it while he can.

Tags: due south, writing

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