[Like most things in Ray's life, he hadn't thought too much on the whole matter at hand, into all the details and meanings behind it. Ray wanted to dance, Fraser has mentioned the possibility of dancing, they both worked well off one another in most other aspects so... Problem solved. Fraser, however, was putting a lot more thought into this, that much was made obvious the moment he stopped the two of them in their tracks.
Ray's gaze flickers from the hand at his chest back to Fraser, curious but waiting, knowing there'll be something done or said to follow because he knows that look, even if he doesn't always see it.
As Fraser eases himself closer, Ray doesn't move, still watching his friend silently as he slots into position against him, and suddenly this feels like a whole lot more than just dancing. Maybe Benton's just drunk. It's not unlike the Mountie to forget about personal space, after all. Maybe Ray's just drunk too, but he still feels far too lucid for that, even as he lets muscle memory take over and starts carefully rearranging himself and Fraser. His own hands shift with ease, coiling an arm around the upper part of Benton's waist while the other shifts downwards just long enough to scoop up and hold his partner's hand that had settled at his hip. He was going to lead, Fraser would just have to take up the woman's part without complaint.
And then he stood there, set into the typical ballroom stance as he stared straight back at the Mountie and slowly let the words absorb into him. Partners. Dance partners. Just dancing with me. Only me.]
You sure this is just about dancin', Fraser?
[Because distantly he's starting to wonder whether either of them are talking about dancing any more, even as he follows up his words with a lazy hum in the tune of a waltz, easing into a simple box step.]
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Ray's gaze flickers from the hand at his chest back to Fraser, curious but waiting, knowing there'll be something done or said to follow because he knows that look, even if he doesn't always see it.
As Fraser eases himself closer, Ray doesn't move, still watching his friend silently as he slots into position against him, and suddenly this feels like a whole lot more than just dancing. Maybe Benton's just drunk. It's not unlike the Mountie to forget about personal space, after all. Maybe Ray's just drunk too, but he still feels far too lucid for that, even as he lets muscle memory take over and starts carefully rearranging himself and Fraser. His own hands shift with ease, coiling an arm around the upper part of Benton's waist while the other shifts downwards just long enough to scoop up and hold his partner's hand that had settled at his hip. He was going to lead, Fraser would just have to take up the woman's part without complaint.
And then he stood there, set into the typical ballroom stance as he stared straight back at the Mountie and slowly let the words absorb into him. Partners. Dance partners. Just dancing with me. Only me.]
You sure this is just about dancin', Fraser?
[Because distantly he's starting to wonder whether either of them are talking about dancing any more, even as he follows up his words with a lazy hum in the tune of a waltz, easing into a simple box step.]