[Clever thing, that exhaling before the impact. Ray catches onto the trick swiftly and takes note. Like the steady exhale and trigger squeeze Ray has practised so many times at the firing range, the point after an exhale giving his body a stillness to focus, let his muscles relax and let his concentration lock purely onto the target. This exhale for pain method might be something he can use to his advantage one day, but for now he can use it to Fraser's and at least time the blows at the appropriate moments.
Ray takes the pause between strikes to assess the damage, gaze sweeping across the curve of Fraser's back to take in the growing redness. No cuts, abrasions, or anything else that'll indicate any lasting damage. It might bruise or sting for a few days but that can't be helped any more than Fraser's self inflicted lip cut. The Mountie was always doing something to injure himself anyway, what with his penchant for throwing himself out of moving cars, apartment buildings, in front of bullets, fists and anything else most would deem unsafe.
The push back against him jerks Ray from his staring, raising the holster above his head again and waiting for that tell-tale exhale. When he does strike again, it's almost perfectly timed, but notably more forceful as he uses his upper body to aid with the momentum rather than relying on arm strength. He's testing the boundaries, like he always does, seeing what he can get away with before he's told otherwise. This isn't about hurting Fraser, never was and never will be, this is about asserting himself, building his confidence in something that he's all too uncertain of, while offering Fraser the chance for his own control. It's a test for both of them, although Fraser certainly has the harder job.
That strike doesn't linger long, a whisper of leather as he drags the strip softly away, trailing a path against the fresh mark before lifting upwards once more. There's little in the way of pausing this time, just enough time for Fraser to manage a few sharp breaths before Ray's prompting with a quiet mutter of 'exhale' under his breath that might be for his own benefit just as much as Fraser's. Like squeezing a trigger, Ray waits until the breath has left them both before he lashes out again, sharp and hard with his body behind it again, the effort enough to leave him out of breath.]
Should be enough to think on. [He pants out, carelessly dropping the holster to the floor as it slips easily from his grip.]
no subject
Ray takes the pause between strikes to assess the damage, gaze sweeping across the curve of Fraser's back to take in the growing redness. No cuts, abrasions, or anything else that'll indicate any lasting damage. It might bruise or sting for a few days but that can't be helped any more than Fraser's self inflicted lip cut. The Mountie was always doing something to injure himself anyway, what with his penchant for throwing himself out of moving cars, apartment buildings, in front of bullets, fists and anything else most would deem unsafe.
The push back against him jerks Ray from his staring, raising the holster above his head again and waiting for that tell-tale exhale. When he does strike again, it's almost perfectly timed, but notably more forceful as he uses his upper body to aid with the momentum rather than relying on arm strength. He's testing the boundaries, like he always does, seeing what he can get away with before he's told otherwise. This isn't about hurting Fraser, never was and never will be, this is about asserting himself, building his confidence in something that he's all too uncertain of, while offering Fraser the chance for his own control. It's a test for both of them, although Fraser certainly has the harder job.
That strike doesn't linger long, a whisper of leather as he drags the strip softly away, trailing a path against the fresh mark before lifting upwards once more. There's little in the way of pausing this time, just enough time for Fraser to manage a few sharp breaths before Ray's prompting with a quiet mutter of 'exhale' under his breath that might be for his own benefit just as much as Fraser's. Like squeezing a trigger, Ray waits until the breath has left them both before he lashes out again, sharp and hard with his body behind it again, the effort enough to leave him out of breath.]
Should be enough to think on. [He pants out, carelessly dropping the holster to the floor as it slips easily from his grip.]