Ray Vecchio Day

Ray sighed, his shoulders slumping. “God, Fraser, you—. Fine. You wanna know why? You see, it’s just one of those special cases where alone we’re incomplete, but together we’re better than we are separately. You know what I mean?”

“Yes. Yes, I do, do,” Fraser stammered, even as he thought, I don’t, I don’t, except—he did. In that moment, he did.

And he had to get the plate number out, first, before it got lost under the maelstrom, but—

“Oh, Benny, I could kiss you,” Ray crowed, already picking up the radio to call it in.

“I thought we were just friends, Ray,” Fraser returned, feeling a little faint.

“Oh, we are,” was all Ray said before he got through to Elaine.

The rest of it was the case—a farce to the very end, but at least they’d solved it. All while Fraser, quietly losing all his marbles, came to one, simple conclusion.

He was in love with Ray Vecchio. Impossibly, hopelessly, utterly in love with him. And Fraser had had no idea, right up until that moment. All through Ray becoming his friend, taking him home for dinner at least once a week and spending almost all of his free time with him, putting his life on the line time and time again to save him—Fraser had, somehow, managed to miss the truth that lived inside his own heart. Or perhaps he’d hidden from it.

“Alright, here we are. Yep, this is still your apartment. At least you remember this time.” Ray tilted his head at Fraser. “Don’t suppose your amnesiac self made plans to find you something better, huh? Yeah, I’m not that lucky. Well, I’ll pick you up in the morning, you just get some sleep and—”

“Ray,” Fraser interrupted. “There’s something—I have to tell you.” Common sense suggested he wait, until they were both rested and could talk comfortably, or at least until the morning. But—he knew, now. And he couldn't... it couldn't wait.

Ray scrunched up his face, which sent an absolutely absurd stab of fondness through Fraser. Those had been there, muted, while he couldn’t remember and couldn’t make sense of them, but now they were back in full force—and he really could slap himself for not realising his feelings sooner.

“Noo, Benny, come on. It’s late, I’m tired, I wanna go home,” Ray pleaded. Crucially, however, he stayed exactly where he was, right next to Fraser, several steps inside the door.

“Close the door, please, Ray,” Fraser requested, looking past him down the deserted—for now—hallway.

“Close the door,” Ray echoed, resigned. He leaned back a little, flinging out his arm so he could push it closed. “Done. What now?”

Fraser turned on the spot so they were face to face, closely observing Ray’s face. Ray really did look tired. He also looked soft, the way he’d looked at Fraser all day.

“Benny?” Ray prompted, frowning a little. “I got egg on my face?”

“There is nothing wrong with your face,” Fraser said warmly.

“Okay, then what’s wrong with your eyes?” Ray returned.

“A lot, apparently,” Fraser said. “They just kept looking, but they did not see.”

Ray’s expression turned confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, Ray,” Fraser said, having to repress the urge to lick his lips, tug at his ear, and rub his brow, all at once. “That I’ve been remiss in not informing you that I—that I’m in love with you.”

To be continued.......

“You’re like Captain Canuck.”

“What?”

“Captain Canuck.”

“This is like the Canadian Captain America or something, isn’t it?”

“No, Ray,” said Fraser in that occasionally long-suffering voice he got when Ray wasn’t respecting Canada enough. Mix up your Nunavuts and your Yukons and you could feel the sigh building in that sturdy, unyielding chest of his.

“Alright, alright, Canada’s superhero, and he busts up bar brawls while investigating two-bit mysteries or what?”

“No, well, he’s a spy initially-”

“Woah, hold on-… you read comics?”

“As a child, mostly. Comics are literature too, Ray.”

“Sure, but I can’t imagine you reading them next to your, I don’t know, your Crime and Peaces or your old Kings.”

Fraser cocked his head.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, what?”

Fraser shrugged. “You’re right about the superhero comparison, it doesn’t quite fit.”

“You know how to fill a guy with confidence,” Ray grumbled. His chest, for some reason that felt like some bullshit he might’ve excused in himself when he was ten, was tighter.

“No, no, I just meant your reference to kings brings a certain mythology to mind. Le Morte d’Arthur.”

“Oh yeah, I read Sword in the Stone.”

“You did?”

“Why’re you looking at me like that, it was in the library one time they gave me detention.”

“What did they put you in detention for?” said Fraser, eyebrow lightly raised.

“Oh y’know…” said Ray vaguely, not wanting to say making out with a girl or getting into a fight. Or to admit he went to the library all the time as a kid.

Luckily Fraser let it go. “I mean you’re chivalrous,” he said.

“Like a knight?”

“Yes Ray, like a knight.”