fic: Hekatebolos

[rubberbutton]

Title: Hekatebolos
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Rating: PG 13
Summary: dialogue-only flashfic

“Fraser. Fraser. Fraser!”

“Mrff...Oh, hello there, Ray. I wondered when you would return.”

“Okay, so you realize that you’re in my bed...”

“Yes, I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion. I’m afraid that I’ve consumed more alcohol than my liver can process.”

“You’re shit-faced.”

“As you say. I was at a local pool hall, attempting to establish rapport with a man I thought has some information about our case. He challenged me to a duel of sorts; however, instead of physical combat, the aim was to consume more alcohol than my opponent. Seems ridiculous, I know, but I’ve heard such things are common with social fraternities in an attempt to inspire camaraderie.”

“Oh boy.”

“Yes. I downed a considerable amount of tequila, though the specific number of shots eludes me now. I’m reasonably certain I ate the worm. Unfortunately, having won the game, I found my source unconscious under the table. My faculties muddled as they were, I was unsure I could make it to the Consulate. Luckily, your apartment was much closer.”

“Okay. That explains why you’re drunk and why you’re here, but the bed?”

“I thought it best to sleep until I returned to sobriety.”

“Good, good. And why did you have to do so naked?”

“Well, I don’t have any pyjamas here, Ray.”

“Huh...and it didn’t occur to you to, you know, borrow a pair?”

“I didn’t want to presume.”

“But you didn’t mind presuming to sleep in my bed. Naked.”

“Hm, I take your point. I hope I didn’t alarm your date.”

“Nah, Fraser, I’m sure most of the guys she goes home with have naked Mounties in their beds.”

“I said I was sorry, Ray. No need to take that tone.”

“Excuse the bitter—I finally get a dark-haired beauty in my bed, only it’s you. God’s got a mean sense of humor, is all I’m sayin’.”

“Why thank you, Ray.”

“What?”

“Dark-haired beauty. That’s what you called me.”

“Oh yeah, well enjoy it now, because you sure won’t be remembering it in the morning.”

“And you yourself are a golden Apollo.”

“Fraser. I don’t even know who that is, and I know you’re full of it.”

“The Greek god, known for his beauty—among other things.”

“Right, of course. Greek god—I get that all the time.”

“Ray, you’re magnificent.”

“And you’re soaked in alcohol.”

“Whereas it’s true that the alcohol may encourage a certain...expansiveness on my part, the sentiments were first realized in complete sobriety.”

“Fraser?”

“Yes, Ray?”

“Go to sleep before you continue to embarrass us.”

“Right.”

“And move over, ‘cause I am not sleeping on the couch.”

“Are you going to insist on sleepwear?”

“Would it mean me getting up to find you some p.j.s?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Aw, screw it. It’s not like my eyeballs are going to get any more scarred. But no telling anyone at the station.”

“All right.”

“Or anyone ever.”

“Not a soul...”

...

“...So...Apollo, huh?”

“....hmm.....far-striking...”

“And he’s down for the count, folks. ...Goodnight, Fraser.”

Comments

[rubberbutton.livejournal.com]

I adore how no matter what the situation, the boys love to argue.

It's sort of their hobby. I think they find the back and forth of it reassuring.

And that they are aware of the subtext of their relationship; they just don't want to go there yet, but why deny it either?!?!

It's inevitable, really, why rush it? :P The anticipation is just so sweet...