[The wedding cake seems as good of a place to hide near to as any. It's not like Ray can get away from the reminder that his beautiful bride is no longer his beautiful bride, but fuck it, he was just starting to get over that, and likely would if Fraser would stop bringing it up all the time. If Ray had noticed the drop in his friend's mood before now, he didn't show it, instead turning to face him, hands shoving in his own pockets to mirror the man opposite and listening for whatever explanation came. His lifted brows dropped into a look of curiosity and possibly confusion, because what could Fraser possibly say that's going to have any of this make sense? Not just the speech, but everything behind it, all that came before it. None of it can be explained.
He does a fairly good job of at least attempting to explain it though, even if Ray can't help but chip in with a barely there mutter of;]
Fly.
[Because Fraser corrects him all the time so of course he jumps in with corrections when he actually gets the chance. But that moment is soon forgotten as there's mention of love and feelings and God, Ray realises he sucks so poorly at this sort of discussion. So did Stella. They could never make anything work when neither of them wanted to discuss how they felt, and here's Fraser making assumptions about it all. About what they had and what could have been and marriage and kids and white picket fences.
Ray would almost be tempted to punch him were it not for why Fraser had said all of this.
Fraser wanted him. And maybe it was just the alcohol talking but the Mountie sure did seem ready to ramble about the future when the two of them had barely even begun. But maybe they had begun long ago. After all, they'd both been together (in some sense of the word) for some years. They'd shared their lives together closer than most couples ever do. And while they might have only shared a kiss together minutes before, they'd been partners for so much longer.]
Fraser...
[Ray didn't even know where to start or what to say. His friend looked far too apologetic and far too distressed for Stanley to even attempt anger, and while talking about his feelings wasn't something Ray was entirely equipped to do, he could definitely talk about Stella.]
Look, I dunno if you do things a little differently in Canada, but normally? This love and marriage and babies in the carriage talk doesn't happen on a first date. It's uh. It's just...
[He rolls his shoulders, shrugs them, gestures with his hands, shoves them back in his pockets and then pulls them back out again, shuffles his feet, cracks his neck, scratches idly at the underside of his jaw, but it's his gaze on Fraser that's the one constant in all of this.]
Me and Stella were together for over twenty years, on and off, and we still couldn't make it work. I love her, sure, but then I uh, sometimes I wonder if it's just the memory of her that I love. Y'know. Of when we were growin' up together. That Stella at the table over there isn't the same girl I knew in the seventies, and that's cool. People change. I mean, this isn't me. This-- [Distant gestures towards the entirety of the ballroom.] -- This is Stella. And maybe it's Vecchio, with all that armarni and badda bing crap, but it sure as hell ain't me. Stella wants this and Stella doesn't uh, well she doesn't do compromise too good.
Me? I do compromise. I can compromise all over this. You want Canada? I can do Canada. I can do snow and dogs and trees and sleepin' bags with the zipper down the middle. I don't need family, kids and a ring to keep me happy. I don't. And I swear I'll beat that into you if you won't believe it.
no subject
He does a fairly good job of at least attempting to explain it though, even if Ray can't help but chip in with a barely there mutter of;]
Fly.
[Because Fraser corrects him all the time so of course he jumps in with corrections when he actually gets the chance. But that moment is soon forgotten as there's mention of love and feelings and God, Ray realises he sucks so poorly at this sort of discussion. So did Stella. They could never make anything work when neither of them wanted to discuss how they felt, and here's Fraser making assumptions about it all. About what they had and what could have been and marriage and kids and white picket fences.
Ray would almost be tempted to punch him were it not for why Fraser had said all of this.
Fraser wanted him. And maybe it was just the alcohol talking but the Mountie sure did seem ready to ramble about the future when the two of them had barely even begun. But maybe they had begun long ago. After all, they'd both been together (in some sense of the word) for some years. They'd shared their lives together closer than most couples ever do. And while they might have only shared a kiss together minutes before, they'd been partners for so much longer.]
Fraser...
[Ray didn't even know where to start or what to say. His friend looked far too apologetic and far too distressed for Stanley to even attempt anger, and while talking about his feelings wasn't something Ray was entirely equipped to do, he could definitely talk about Stella.]
Look, I dunno if you do things a little differently in Canada, but normally? This love and marriage and babies in the carriage talk doesn't happen on a first date. It's uh. It's just...
[He rolls his shoulders, shrugs them, gestures with his hands, shoves them back in his pockets and then pulls them back out again, shuffles his feet, cracks his neck, scratches idly at the underside of his jaw, but it's his gaze on Fraser that's the one constant in all of this.]
Me and Stella were together for over twenty years, on and off, and we still couldn't make it work. I love her, sure, but then I uh, sometimes I wonder if it's just the memory of her that I love. Y'know. Of when we were growin' up together. That Stella at the table over there isn't the same girl I knew in the seventies, and that's cool. People change. I mean, this isn't me. This-- [Distant gestures towards the entirety of the ballroom.] -- This is Stella. And maybe it's Vecchio, with all that armarni and badda bing crap, but it sure as hell ain't me. Stella wants this and Stella doesn't uh, well she doesn't do compromise too good.
Me? I do compromise. I can compromise all over this. You want Canada? I can do Canada. I can do snow and dogs and trees and sleepin' bags with the zipper down the middle. I don't need family, kids and a ring to keep me happy. I don't. And I swear I'll beat that into you if you won't believe it.