[ Every part of the act Fraser complies with. Everyone in the club was watching, nevermind their efforts to pretend otherwise, and he couldn't afford to make a mistake. At the touch to his hair he looked up as though for reassurance, and finding it returned his attention to their suspect once again, obedient but reasonably wary for a man who'd just been pinned down by the throat. It doesn't remotely bother him, of course, but the act depended on reasonable timidity, a trait that Fraser had to fabricate wholesale.
At the gesture, and relieved to see that things were proceeding the way he'd hoped, he followed Ray over to the bar, using his hands for balance and staying down, staying low behind him. As Ray sat up at the bar, Fraser inched between him and the counter, pressed up against his leg with his chin hooked high on Ray's hip, as close as he could get without actually climbing into his lap. It was simple animal pattern behavior; submissive, he relied on the protection of his alpha, and the closer he could get to him the safer he would be.
The Italian hummed. ]
He'll think twice before getting too far outta your sight now.
[ Fishing in his jacket, he drew out a silver box full of dark brown cigar wrapped cigarettes, offering the open box toward Ray. ]
Ray just Ray. No last name, huh? Last name's got prestige. See, me? I wouldn't go anywhere without it. Lucca Belucci.
[ Who only owned half the betting shops on the East side. Fraser recognized the name, but only in relation to his father's arrest. At the age of 78, it had memorably made the papers. It was impossible to know whether or not a man like Belucci ought to know Ray Vecchio by name or sight, but judging by the fact that he had only recently taken over his father's empire, it was quite possible he didn't. It was probably okay, but not without risk. He tipped his head slightly, laying his cheek flat against Ray's thigh, and let his eyes switch from Ray back to Lucca. He listened with his eyes.
Lucca sipped his tonic water. There was no gin in it--at least not that Fraser could smell, but without getting closer to the glass he couldn't be entirely sure. Nor was it important. ]
I enjoy the process, then I get bored. But you like it, I see the way you look at him. It's like you're miffed he's listening to you at all, but as long as he looks up at you with those big eyes you could care less. Get over it. You think the alpha wolf gets all misty eyed when the other wolves roll over for him? No way. Cause he knows he's only getting what's due. You need to show him how much he's willing to give, not ask for it. Minute you ask, you're not respecting yourself, so why should he?
no subject
At the gesture, and relieved to see that things were proceeding the way he'd hoped, he followed Ray over to the bar, using his hands for balance and staying down, staying low behind him. As Ray sat up at the bar, Fraser inched between him and the counter, pressed up against his leg with his chin hooked high on Ray's hip, as close as he could get without actually climbing into his lap. It was simple animal pattern behavior; submissive, he relied on the protection of his alpha, and the closer he could get to him the safer he would be.
The Italian hummed. ]
He'll think twice before getting too far outta your sight now.
[ Fishing in his jacket, he drew out a silver box full of dark brown cigar wrapped cigarettes, offering the open box toward Ray. ]
Ray just Ray. No last name, huh? Last name's got prestige. See, me? I wouldn't go anywhere without it. Lucca Belucci.
[ Who only owned half the betting shops on the East side. Fraser recognized the name, but only in relation to his father's arrest. At the age of 78, it had memorably made the papers. It was impossible to know whether or not a man like Belucci ought to know Ray Vecchio by name or sight, but judging by the fact that he had only recently taken over his father's empire, it was quite possible he didn't. It was probably okay, but not without risk. He tipped his head slightly, laying his cheek flat against Ray's thigh, and let his eyes switch from Ray back to Lucca. He listened with his eyes.
Lucca sipped his tonic water. There was no gin in it--at least not that Fraser could smell, but without getting closer to the glass he couldn't be entirely sure. Nor was it important. ]
I enjoy the process, then I get bored. But you like it, I see the way you look at him. It's like you're miffed he's listening to you at all, but as long as he looks up at you with those big eyes you could care less. Get over it. You think the alpha wolf gets all misty eyed when the other wolves roll over for him? No way. Cause he knows he's only getting what's due. You need to show him how much he's willing to give, not ask for it. Minute you ask, you're not respecting yourself, so why should he?