[ Helpful. And close. And the 'Thank you kindly', the first one for way too long, freezes on his lips as Ray speaks. Fraser swallows--it's only reasonable, he thinks, to be at least a little apprehensive.
Maybe it's the wilderness. That's it. Or maybe it's the fact that he's home again after so long, and being here with Ray feels comfortable, more comfortable than he's felt being anywhere with anyone. Everything about this always seems to have to be so difficult, but for once - just for once - he allows himself to reach out to touch without fear of evaporation--his own or Ray's. Just the tips of his fingers settle over the inkmarks printed into skin, as though expecting that he might feel a difference, some callous of scar tissue perhaps.
Instead Ray is just warm. His breath catches in his chest, and his answer is a touch sluggish and lacks the usual confident quality. ]
Incontrovertibly. [ Because nothing says 'yes' like six syllables. ]
no subject
Maybe it's the wilderness. That's it. Or maybe it's the fact that he's home again after so long, and being here with Ray feels comfortable, more comfortable than he's felt being anywhere with anyone. Everything about this always seems to have to be so difficult, but for once - just for once - he allows himself to reach out to touch without fear of evaporation--his own or Ray's. Just the tips of his fingers settle over the inkmarks printed into skin, as though expecting that he might feel a difference, some callous of scar tissue perhaps.
Instead Ray is just warm. His breath catches in his chest, and his answer is a touch sluggish and lacks the usual confident quality. ]
Incontrovertibly. [ Because nothing says 'yes' like six syllables. ]