[ It went back to the very first thing Fraser had asked Ray since they'd arrived at the hotel: save me from Ray Vecchio's relatives. And how better to save him from those relatives than to take up his entire dance card?
He stopped Ray behind the door to the ballroom, stopped him with his hand against his chest and stared at him quietly, trying to get the measure of him. This wasn't like Ray at all.
Although Fraser, of course, had no problems with dancing with a man at the wedding, he could never have imagined that Ray would consider it. He was an American. He was a man. He was straight. He was a cop. Fraser expected he'd be afraid of how people might perceive him, or that he would be overwhelmed with the far more pressing need to dance with all the pretty young unattached women at the event.
He wasn't unhappy that Ray wanted to do it, not at all. In fact it was enough to fill him with joy, the idea of dancing with Ray for the rest of the day, perhaps being his dance partner for the rest of forever, snubbing all those pretty girls and keeping the most handsome man on the dancefloor to himself--it was satisfying in a way he couldn't reconcile.
Fraser looked at Ray and tried to work out whether it was really what he wanted, but he was coming to Canada with him, wasn't he? If he wasn't comfortable dancing with Fraser...
He exhaled slowly, then dropped his hand from Ray's chest down to his hip, moved the other up to his shoulder, shifted his waist in until they were almost hip to hip. He was three inches shorter than Ray, and it was noticeable like this, tucked in against his chest, his chin near Ray's left shoulder as he tilted his face up to continue staring at him.
Because maybe he needed to know for sure that Ray wanted it. He needed to know before they stepped onto the dancefloor together and didn't know how to do it. He needed...he needed to know that Ray meant it. He bit his own bottom lip, trying to force his shoulders to relax. Ray would have to lead--Fraser wanted him to lead. So he, in turn, would have to learn to relax and give up his control, something that wouldn't be easy for him to do. ]
You and me, Ray. Partners, in front of all those people. Dance partners. [ Did he mean 'dance'? ] It's--it's okay with me, Ray. If...if it's okay with you. Just dancing with me. Only me. Because Ray, we're going to be dancing with each other for a very long time.
[ This felt right. It felt more than right. Except for the fact that up close like this he found he wanted more than ever to lean into Ray and kiss him. Not a good sign. Not if they were going to be doing a lot of dancing from now on. Maybe...maybe the instinct would be less strong if he was sober. He just had to sober himself up, and stay that way forever. And ever. ]
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He stopped Ray behind the door to the ballroom, stopped him with his hand against his chest and stared at him quietly, trying to get the measure of him. This wasn't like Ray at all.
Although Fraser, of course, had no problems with dancing with a man at the wedding, he could never have imagined that Ray would consider it. He was an American. He was a man. He was straight. He was a cop. Fraser expected he'd be afraid of how people might perceive him, or that he would be overwhelmed with the far more pressing need to dance with all the pretty young unattached women at the event.
He wasn't unhappy that Ray wanted to do it, not at all. In fact it was enough to fill him with joy, the idea of dancing with Ray for the rest of the day, perhaps being his dance partner for the rest of forever, snubbing all those pretty girls and keeping the most handsome man on the dancefloor to himself--it was satisfying in a way he couldn't reconcile.
Fraser looked at Ray and tried to work out whether it was really what he wanted, but he was coming to Canada with him, wasn't he? If he wasn't comfortable dancing with Fraser...
He exhaled slowly, then dropped his hand from Ray's chest down to his hip, moved the other up to his shoulder, shifted his waist in until they were almost hip to hip. He was three inches shorter than Ray, and it was noticeable like this, tucked in against his chest, his chin near Ray's left shoulder as he tilted his face up to continue staring at him.
Because maybe he needed to know for sure that Ray wanted it. He needed to know before they stepped onto the dancefloor together and didn't know how to do it. He needed...he needed to know that Ray meant it. He bit his own bottom lip, trying to force his shoulders to relax. Ray would have to lead--Fraser wanted him to lead. So he, in turn, would have to learn to relax and give up his control, something that wouldn't be easy for him to do. ]
You and me, Ray. Partners, in front of all those people. Dance partners. [ Did he mean 'dance'? ] It's--it's okay with me, Ray. If...if it's okay with you. Just dancing with me. Only me. Because Ray, we're going to be dancing with each other for a very long time.
[ This felt right. It felt more than right. Except for the fact that up close like this he found he wanted more than ever to lean into Ray and kiss him. Not a good sign. Not if they were going to be doing a lot of dancing from now on. Maybe...maybe the instinct would be less strong if he was sober. He just had to sober himself up, and stay that way forever. And ever. ]