[ It's interesting; not the conversation happening above him, that gets listened to but not really lingered on, though Fraser commits all of it - relevant and irrelevant - to memory. No, what's interesting is the fact that as soon as Ray deliberately doesn't look him in the eye when he glances down, then raises his hand up to the bar--it gets to him.
It shouldn't. It's just a role. But it gets to him, and Fraser tips his head back upright, peering up at the two men above him. He tamps down his own feelings as best he can: Ray is doing well, he's moving along the conversation in such a way as to ask relevant investigative questions, and Fraser should be grateful, engaged to the mission, but all he wants to do is reach up, take Ray's hands and demand that he look at him.
Maybe that would be natural. Maybe he should demand attention--that would suit the situation, wouldn't it?
Not before Lucca answers the question. ]
I move on. Always something new to break; something with spirit. Can get sticky, though. Some of these bits get so deep, you know, weaning them off can be tough. Had my share of clingy bottoms. This one-- [ He still didn't look at Fraser as he spoke about him. ] This one'll track you to the ends of the Earth. He's got that look in his eye. That mad look.
Now you. I could do something with you, but I'm gonna guess you don't play switch. Is too bad. Real disappointing.
[ Frustration didn't mean anything, but Fraser was beginning to dislike this man for purely selfish reasons, letting it color his perceptions against his best judgement. He would have the strength, determination, opportunity and motive to kill their victim. Now they just had to prove he'd done it.
But Fraser was running his hand up the inside of Ray's ankle, his other hand on the outside of the same leg, stroking across Ray's calf, demanding attention just as anyone in his position would. He wouldn't be playing his role properly if he didn't at least try--or at least, that was how he reassured himself that it was the correct course of action to take. ]
no subject
It shouldn't. It's just a role. But it gets to him, and Fraser tips his head back upright, peering up at the two men above him. He tamps down his own feelings as best he can: Ray is doing well, he's moving along the conversation in such a way as to ask relevant investigative questions, and Fraser should be grateful, engaged to the mission, but all he wants to do is reach up, take Ray's hands and demand that he look at him.
Maybe that would be natural. Maybe he should demand attention--that would suit the situation, wouldn't it?
Not before Lucca answers the question. ]
I move on. Always something new to break; something with spirit. Can get sticky, though. Some of these bits get so deep, you know, weaning them off can be tough. Had my share of clingy bottoms. This one-- [ He still didn't look at Fraser as he spoke about him. ] This one'll track you to the ends of the Earth. He's got that look in his eye. That mad look.
Now you. I could do something with you, but I'm gonna guess you don't play switch. Is too bad. Real disappointing.
[ Frustration didn't mean anything, but Fraser was beginning to dislike this man for purely selfish reasons, letting it color his perceptions against his best judgement. He would have the strength, determination, opportunity and motive to kill their victim. Now they just had to prove he'd done it.
But Fraser was running his hand up the inside of Ray's ankle, his other hand on the outside of the same leg, stroking across Ray's calf, demanding attention just as anyone in his position would. He wouldn't be playing his role properly if he didn't at least try--or at least, that was how he reassured himself that it was the correct course of action to take. ]