Title: Lame and Sexy
Fandom: due South
Pairing: Ray/Ray
Rating: R for language
Word count: 602
Summary: "When we were up in Canada," Ray says, "he used to tell me ghost stories sometimes. They were all really bad and not scary, and they all had these weird sound effects."
Notes: For snoopypez, as part of my sound effects prompt. Prompt: whip noise.
Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me and I am not making any money off this.
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Ray is drunk. He is drunk and he and Vecchio are talking about Fraser, because that's what they always talk about. The one big thing they have in common, besides Stella, which if Vecchio ever brings it up Ray will cut his balls off, which maybe Vecchio knows and that's why he doesn't bring it up. But Vecchio doesn't seem to realize that sometimes talking about Fraser is just as bad.
Like right now. "When we were up in Canada," Ray says, "he used to tell me ghost stories sometimes. They were all really bad and not scary, and they all had these weird sound effects."
"Sound effects?"
"Yeah," Ray says, but he's way too drunk to do a good impression, one that would be funny and not just pathetically obsessed, because Ray can still hear everything Fraser ever said to him pitch-perfect in his head. "Like, there was this one where Death was chasing this Inuit kid down on a dogsled, and the kid could hear Death cracking his whip, and he kept making this whip-cracking noise, like, whpsh, whpsh, and fuck me if it wasn't simul--simul--the lamest and the sexiest thing I ever heard in my whole fucking life." And then, as if it's not bad enough that he just said that out loud, he lays his head down on the bar and starts crying. This is why he isn't supposed to get drunk with his friends, he remembers that now. Well, shit.
There's a handkerchief in his face now.
"You carry a handkerchief?" he asks, sounding like someone gave him a black eye in the throat.
"Hey, if you'd rather blow your nose on your t-shirt like a five-year-old, be my guest," Vecchio says.
Ray blows his nose in Vecchio's handkerchief and then reaches over and drops it in Vecchio's lap. Vecchio just sighs and flicks it onto the floor. It's silk, too. Ray feels a little guilty.
"It gets better," Vecchio says.
Ray stops feeling guilty. "What the fuck do you know about it?"
"You think you're the only person who ever loved Fraser?" Vecchio asks, low and rough, and--huh. "At first it's like--it's like your whole world is empty, like there's nothing if he's not there in the passenger's seat giggling and telling you to obey the stop signs. But it's been a few years now, and I'm really okay. I mean, I miss him, but I don't think about him every time I get in the Riv."
Ray hadn't thought about that, how him sitting in the Riv must be just as weird for Vecchio as Vecchio sitting in the Goat is for Ray. Huh.
"Come on," Vecchio says. "Time for a cab. Also, I'm crashing on your couch because coming home drunk in the middle of the night does not go over well at my house."
Ray's head spins as he stands up, and he ends up wiping his nose on his t-shirt anyway, earning a disgusted grimace from Vecchio. But Vecchio still puts an arm around him to help him outside. It might be the first time anyone's touched him since Fraser--because perps who are trying to punch you in the face do not count--and Ray leans into it a little. Maybe plays a little unsteadier than he is.
Later, he's sitting on the floor in his hallway and Vecchio is bitching about sharing his toothbrush.
"Hey, you can always not brush," Ray says.
"That would be even more disgusting," Vecchio says with absolute horror, and Ray thinks that Vecchio's silk boxers are pretty lame and sexy themselves.
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