arrow00: (thinking)
[personal profile] arrow00
Title: One Small Thing
Podfic: here
Author: [livejournal.com profile] arrow00
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1,840
Warnings: Cop/Mountie sex!
This is a little affected,
maybe, but it was fun to write.
Categories: First-time, experimental style
Summary: Fraser just needs to find that one small thing.

Update: This story now has a sequel: Operation: Stupid


One Small Thing

By Arrow


Fraser has thought about it a lot, has agonized over it, put into it all the mental powers at his command, and still he hasn't figured out a way to tell Ray how he feels.

This is hardly surprising. Fraser hasn't had a lot of practice making that particular communication. He can tell Ray he is his friend, that he trusts him, that he believes in him—that's not hard to say.

He can tell Ray how to hitch a dog sled, how to make a burn salve, how to shave using nothing but water and a Bowie knife (Ray tells him that's stupid, Fraser, Gillettes are freakin' .99 cents at the corner. In the Territories? Fraser responds. He is unbearably pompous. He knows this.)

He cannot tell Ray that his eyes are the exact shade of blue that twilight yearns for. Or that the line of his jaw calls to Fraser maddeningly, hourly, that he needs to put his mouth there and feel the short, golden stubble sanding his lips raw. That he wants to kiss Ray with repeated, obsessive abandon.

That he needs Ray to fuck him. (Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.)

Fraser has thought about that a lot, until the blunt word has worn away from meaning, until he is no longer certain how much he has revealed, how much Ray intuits, how wide a gap Fraser will have to hurdle if he can just find that one way to do it.

He needs a way. Hundreds are considered and discarded (Flowers? A note? A rope?) and Fraser is no closer and is, in fact, running out of ideas entirely. Diefenbaker's are even less original than his own and are all inexcusably crude, to say the least. (Wolves have many opinions, but very little finesse.)

Fraser's most recent plan never even passed the drafting stages, and he was left with ink spots on his fingers and Rube Goldberg dreams (the giant ball bearing was just about to crush him when he awoke.)

Obviously, he has been thinking on too grand a scale, putting the horse before the cartwheel. Start small, he advises himself. Concentrate on one small thing, and the plan will devolve from there.

He thinks of Ray's tongue.

Ray has a very articulate tongue, both figuratively and physically. Articulate and articulating, in other words. Ray is—can do—either, both.

Whereas Fraser's tongue is apparently only good for licking things.

Licking things...oh, dear. Not the right tack, back to the horse and cartwheels, when really he needs to focus on the one small thing. The obvious thing. If Fraser cannot articulate, he will have to be articulating.

Right. So, his current obsession is Ray's tongue (last week his jaw line, the week before that the upper bow of his lips, and the week before that, well, the proper term is 'hindquarters' although, again—horse, cart, no.) Therefore, Fraser will try to make Ray obsessed with his tongue.

He thinks this is a promising place to begin. Because, really, Ray has mentioned Fraser's tongue in the past. Granted, it was vis-à-vis electrical sockets, but Fraser chooses to take that as a hopeful sign.

He gets the germ of his plan from a very odd television show he once saw, made even odder by the fact his television didn't have sound at the time. He obtains the necessary materials and begins practicing.

It takes him no time at all to master the technique, though he feels increasingly foolish with each run. Perhaps this isn’t such a good idea. In fact, it's a terrible, awful, stupid idea, but though he can recognize that fact in a detached sort of way, it's too late—he's already speeding down the grade like a runaway train.

There will be no stopping him this time. Not even if he loses his hat.

The night finally arrives (Diefenbaker resents being left at the Consulate, but Fraser can only live with so much humiliation) and, at the bar with Ray, Fraser orders a Shirley Temple.

For the cherry, you see.

Ray's incredulous laughter is almost infectious, but Fraser is too nervous to succumb. His fingers are damp as he plucks the cherry from the drink.

Ray is sitting across from him. The expression on his face is...unclassifiable. Fraser ignores it. He ignores everything, because this is his one small thing, to be done well or poorly, but it will be done.

He pops the cherry into his mouth. The taste is abominable, but he's gotten used to it (and to not thinking about preserved red flesh mutating the cells of his stomach lining) and chews and swallows, leaving the stem.

He articulates his tongue. His tongue is articulating around, down, through, and Ray's eyes are now wide as the Sargasso (it is wide, though Fraser's never seen it) and locked absolutely, finally on Fraser's mouth.

You could say Fraser's mouth is Ray's entire world, or so it appears, and that suits. That's the purpose, really, of this exercise, although Fraser is so stunned at this modicum of success that he almost loses the end of the stem and has to start over.

But he doesn't. He makes the final tuck, biting down a little to secure it there, and pulls the perfect knot from between his lips, his tongue caressing it slightly on the way out (an improvisational frill he is quite proud of.)

It is done.

Fraser looks up. Ray's mouth has dropped open. The end of his altogether too articulate tongue is hanging at the edge of his teeth. Then it swipes slowly over his top lip (the bow, the bow) and Fraser's breath stops altogether.

"Uh, Frase?"

Fraser takes in some air, just a shallow, quick pull, enough to respond, "Yes, Ray?"

"You...you do know that particular bar trick, it's, uh—" Ray scratches his jaw, looks away. "Well, it's maybe an American thing, not a Canadian thing, so I could get how you—but usually if you do that trick, it means, well, you're flirting." Ray frowns. "And you're a girl, but that doesn't matter, I guess, so much as...you only do it when you're flirting."

"Yes, Ray."

"Yeah, I didn't think you—what?" Ray's eyes snap back to his face.

"Yes, Ray." Fraser carefully places the cherry stem on the small, square, white paper napkin and lifts his drink, taking a sip.

It tastes worse than the cherry.

"You knew? That it's...you know what it means?"

"Yes, Ray." And Fraser sincerely hopes the third time's the charm, because he senses his face is now as red as the cherry (albeit a deeper hue.)

"Oh." Ray's eyes travel slowly over Fraser's face, only to land back on his lips. Cautiously, Fraser pokes his tongue out to wet them.

Ray's eyes widen. And he licks his lips.

So, then—a success. Perhaps. Ray hasn't said so, and it really isn't like him to be this inarticulate, but he is hyperventilating, which is definitely a positive sign.

"I can do other things," Fraser says confidentially. "With my tongue, that is. It's an extremely versatile appendage, and mine is more agile than most—"

He is made to discontinue by the hard hand clamping on his arm, by the upward pull (a strong, anti-gravitational force) exerted by Ray as he hauls Fraser to his feet and churns him out the door. It is three steps to the GTO—Fraser counts them, because he's uncertain there is a fourth in him. His legs are...uncooperative.

Ray drives them to his apartment. His right hand has slid behind Fraser's back, beneath his shirt, and is tucked into the waist of Fraser's jeans. The tip of one long finger is positioned at the top of Fraser's coccyx. It is moving there, a tiny, petting motion.

The road flies. Fraser flies with it, trying to ignore the spread of warmth in his groin for fear he might be constitutionally incapable of climbing the stairs to Ray's apartment once they arrive (he isn't.)

Ray directs him toward the bedroom and strips them both with appalling efficiency. He pulls, dancing Fraser toward the bed, and his lips meet Fraser's just as Fraser's shins hit the mattress on either side of Ray's legs, and then Fraser is falling, falling into Ray, into Ray's mouth, into the heat of his slick, sucking mouth.

The rub of Ray's hairy thigh drives Fraser to madness, and he strokes himself against it, squirms, thrusts, gasps and, in short order, releases, groaning with pleasure and shame. Ray is laughing, short huffs of delight, and caressing Fraser's sides with his hard hands.

"Is that all you wanted?" Ray finally says. He gives a lazy roll with his hips, digging his hardness into Fraser's belly.

"I want. I wanted—" His tongue is through performing (and really, it hadn't failed him when it counted) so he can't finish it, can't say his dream aloud.

But Ray prods him, stiff finger against his ribs.

"I hoped...that is..." Fraser takes a breath. "How do you feel about cherries?"

Ray's laugh is more like a growl this time, and before Fraser knows it, he has been positioned, petted, stroked and prepared for the intrusion, for Ray to possess him (his fingers as long as Fraser hoped, long enough to—)

"Oh. Dear God."

"Yeah, Fraser. You're so ready. I need to be in there—"

Ray pushes. Ray enters, hard and inexorable. Ray fucks him. Ray fucks and fucks, and Fraser twists his hips, impaled, full of Ray, begging for it never to end (he says "Fuck" out loud, and Ray groans.)

Fraser is raw with pleasure. Pleasure is a thing, like a stone, like a cherry, that he swallows and accepts into him, though it can't be healthy (FD&C Red Dye #40—Fraser looked it up.)

But he doesn't care. His body takes each thrust, transmutes it into heat, and convulses, shuddering it out of him again in cries, in sweat, in moans. Then Fraser spills, gasping, and Ray whispers approvingly (the hot, sticky skin of his cheek rough against Fraser's spine.) Ray comes inside him then, deep inside him, one hand clasping Fraser's shoulder in a rhythmic squeezing that echoes the pulsing of his penis, still inside.

When Ray is finished, he sighs like an old man. Then he laughs, this time bright and eager, and he thrusts again once, still not soft, making Fraser emit a strange noise, the sound twisting on his tongue like the cherry stem.

"So, was that more along the lines of what you wanted?"

"Yes, Ray." Fraser is surprised to find his throat sore and hoarse.

"Good. Then we did good."

Ray pulls away, a small hurt, but he makes it up to Fraser by tugging him close, his hand resting warm on the small of Fraser's back.

"That was some trick with the cherry," Ray says, yawning.

Fraser smiles. He lifts his head and slides his mouth down the long, hard curve of Ray's jaw so that his lips, when they meet Ray's, are already tingling.

"It was no big thing," Fraser says.



.....................
2007.07.03

The sequel to this story is Operation: Stupid

(The television show Fraser references is Twin Peaks, in which Audrey Horne does the trick. So to speak.)



Page 1 of 2 << [1] [2] >>

Date: 2007-07-04 04:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] spuffyduds.livejournal.com
Good god, this is seriously fucking hot.

You inarticulated me. Gah.

Date: 2007-07-04 05:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] spuffyduds.livejournal.com
Also! I love the "horse and cartwheels," and "again, horse, cart, no."

Date: 2007-07-04 04:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Heehee. The big dummy. He needs to walk before he leaps.

Glad you liked it, baby.

Date: 2007-07-04 05:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] renenet.livejournal.com
Yay, I enjoyed this story! Thanks.

Date: 2007-07-04 04:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Thank you! :)

Date: 2007-07-04 05:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] green-grrl.livejournal.com
Guh! And sweet as a maraschino cherry, too. I just find it adorable that Dief is trying to help in his own finesse-less way. Rube Goldberg dreams and obsessions and risking artificial dyes to practice his grand scheme.... Aaaaaw!

And then my panties exploded.

Date: 2007-07-04 04:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Dief really does *try* is the thing. :)

Thank you, very kindly.

(Exploding panties!!!)

Date: 2007-07-04 05:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bonspiel.livejournal.com
Hot like a very very hot hot thing. *fans self*

Date: 2007-07-04 04:05 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Yay! Thank you. :)

Date: 2007-07-04 06:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] laylee.livejournal.com
Hot and sweet and and the thing with the research and the cherry is just so Fraser!

*loves*

Date: 2007-07-04 04:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
::smileys:: He is very thorough, is he not? Thank you kindly.

Date: 2007-07-04 06:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] j-s-cavalcante.livejournal.com
You have killed me *ded*.

I seriously love you.

I'm quoting something wonderful here, but there are a lot more wonderful parts. I am just too inarticulate now to say much more.

He cannot tell Ray that his eyes are the exact shade of blue that twilight yearns for. Or that the line of his jaw calls to Fraser maddeningly, hourly, that he needs to put his mouth there and feel the short, golden stubble sanding his lips raw. That he wants to kiss Ray with repeated, obsessive abandon.

God, that's beautiful, and God, the whole piece is incandescently HOT, bright and hot and terrific, and on that note I am going to sleep and, I hope, to dream. Guhhhhh!


Date: 2007-07-04 04:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Heh, hi there sleepy-girl. I'm so pleased to have guh'd you. I am flushed with achievement. :)

Thank you for your note.

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Date: 2007-07-04 07:12 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] malnpudl.livejournal.com
I am in love with the way that you use language. Time and again, your turns of phrase leave me startled and delighted.

Also? Hot. So very, very hot.

I am so very happy that you're writing in this fandom.

Date: 2007-07-04 04:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Thank you, malnpudl. I'm likewise startled and delighted by your kind words. I'm very, *very* happy to be here.

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Date: 2007-07-04 08:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bertybertle.livejournal.com
Oh, SO lovely! Poor Fraser - I can feel his increasing desperation right from the start. And I even guessed the TV show! Yaaaaay me! And then much with the yummy hotness. *happy sigh* Thanks!

Date: 2007-07-04 04:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Ha! You guessed it. I was hoping people would. I loved that show.

Thanks for writing.

Date: 2007-07-04 10:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] snarkyducky.livejournal.com
The end of his altogether too articulate tongue is hanging at the edge of his teeth.
i bet if you did a poll, the majority of your readers would have been licking their lips too at that point..

Ray scratches his jaw, looks away.
that's so Ray i could see the scene in my head..

"I can do other things," Fraser says confidentially. "With my tongue, that is. It's an extremely versatile appendage, and mine is more agile than most—"
your Fraser voice ... *keyboard mashes*

i can't believe you made coccyx-petting sexy..!!
and i love your description of Ray's different laughs.. ♥

Date: 2007-07-04 04:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Hey Snarky. I think we *should* do a poll about Ray's tongue. And that little bit at the back of his neck where his hair fluffs sideways.

I'm glad you liked my weird offering. I really thought folks would find it a little off-putting, with all the zig-zagging. Also, the almost complete lack of dialog. Just goes to show, I guess.

Thank you for your note!

Date: 2007-07-04 10:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] viciouscats.livejournal.com
Oh, Fraser! :) I really enjoyed this. Hot and sweet. Yummy!

Date: 2007-07-04 04:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Thank you, sweetums.

Date: 2007-07-04 11:26 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] etcetera-cat.livejournal.com
Hot like burning *fans self*

I love the way you use language in this and your Dief. and your Fraser. And your Ray. ... and-- well, you get the idea. I'm having a whole lot of love ^_^

Date: 2007-07-04 04:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Oh, God, your icon made me laugh out loud. ::adores::

Thank you kindly, I'm glad for the love. :)

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Date: 2007-07-04 11:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] keryx.livejournal.com
He obtains the necessary materials and begins practicing. Such a Fraser way of saying that, and of building up to the revelation. Yay!

Date: 2007-07-04 04:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
::grins:: I hope it was a good surprise. Thank you for writing. :)

Date: 2007-07-04 12:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dessert-first.livejournal.com
He can tell Ray how to hitch a dog sled, how to make a burn salve, how to shave using nothing but water and a Bowie knife (Ray tells him that's stupid, Fraser, Gillettes are freakin' .99 cents at the corner. In the Territories? Fraser responds. He is unbearably pompous. He knows this.)

This, the way it sums up their interactions, both their voices, the way he knows he's being unbearably pompous but does it anyway. Wonderful.

Or that the line of his jaw calls to Fraser maddeningly, hourly, that he needs to put his mouth there and feel the short, golden stubble sanding his lips raw. That he wants to kiss Ray with repeated, obsessive abandon.

That he needs Ray to fuck him. (Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.)


You have such a gift for language. The hourly call of Ray's jaw, Fraser's urge to kiss, his need to be fucked, the rhythmic repetition of the word.

Because, really, Ray has mentioned Fraser's tongue in the past. Granted, it was vis-à-vis electrical sockets, but Fraser chooses to take that as a hopeful sign.

Bahaha! ::loves::

(Flowers? A note? A rope?)

Holy mother, am I glad he didn't go with the rope. I don't think my heart could have taken it. ::explodes:: But maybe I do wish you'd write it, a little bit. :)

I love how much thought and time and effort he puts into his grand plan, because he is utterly unable to just *tell* Ray. So it becomes this whole big thing, all Fraser's hopes and dreams resting on one cherry stem and some FD & C Red Dye #40.

"You...you do know that particular bar trick, it's, uh—" Ray scratches his jaw, looks away. "Well, it's maybe an American thing, not a Canadian thing, so I could get how you—but usually if you do that trick, it means, well, you're flirting." Ray frowns. "And you're a girl, but that doesn't matter, I guess, so much as...you only do it when you're flirting."

I adore this. Every line. The whole scene. The cautious lip licking as a test. Fraser's line about being able to do other things with his agile tongue. The yanking out the door. The coccyx petting. All of it, so sublimely hot and pitch-perfect.

The road flies. Fraser flies with it

Ray pushes. Ray enters, hard and inexorable. Ray fucks him. Ray fucks and fucks

Man. The short, declarative choppiness and repetition here so *works.*

And Fraser swallowing pleasure. Oh, all of it, wonderful. A beautifully put-together story, every line a gift. Thank you!

Date: 2007-07-04 05:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
(fixing)

This note is such a gift, thank you so for taking the time to write it. You pointed out things to me I wasn't aware I was doing, which is this writer-girl's dream of a comment. The short phrases, for example. I tend to write long, but it just happened in this piece, being so stream of Fraser's weird consciousness.

::twirls you:: I'm so very glad you enjoyed it. Thank you.

Fraser considers tying Ray up again (he does look good in rope, what with the contrasting tones of brown and gold and the way the candlelight licks across the hard grooves of Ray's chest muscles and ribs.) And, really, Fraser could look all day. That's the whole point of tying Ray up, after all: to look his fill, to make Ray await his pleasure—Fraser's, and his own. But it is Fraser's pleasure to give Ray pleasure, so—a conundrum. Fraser ponders this as he nuzzles his way up Ray's blood-filled shaft, testing the temperature with his lips, with his tongue, cooling it slightly by blowing along the wet trail while Ray whimpers and convulses, trapped, begging—

Yes. Fraser considers it. Often.

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Date: 2007-07-04 01:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] pearl-o.livejournal.com
Oh, you know, this could have been "just" a PWP, but there's so much characterization and thought put into this it transcends. You keep writing aces every time! I'd be horribly jealous if it didn't mean so much good stuff to read.

Date: 2007-07-04 04:44 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Oh, thank you, sweet girl. It means a lot to me to hear you say so.

Date: 2007-07-04 02:26 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sisterofdream.livejournal.com
That he wants to kiss Ray with repeated, obsessive abandon.
Guh!

Oh, obsessive!fraser!

This is gloriously good, and I love the dichotomy of the piece, the slow, burning obsession to start, but once they get on the same page they just explode.

Date: 2007-07-04 04:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Mmm, happy exploding boys. :) Thank you kindly.

Date: 2007-07-04 02:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] janedavitt.livejournal.com
(Flowers? A note? A rope?)

That is so Fraser....

And this was wonderfully surreal, this look into Fraser's twisty-turny, logical by its own rules mind. You have some gorgeous turns of phrase here;

the short, golden stubble sanding his lips raw.

strips them both with appalling efficiency.

Ray pulls away, a small hurt



Date: 2007-07-04 04:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Thank you for the kind comment, Jane. I got sidetracked (obviously) but I'm on page 80 now. (Still no KISSINGS. Oh, it's crappity-crap for sure.)

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Date: 2007-07-04 03:40 pm (UTC)
ext_14810: (Default)
From: [identity profile] fearlessdiva.livejournal.com
Oh, Fraser! You gigantic goofball. How I love this Fraser!

And the line about Ray's eyes being the color twilight yearns for - lovely. And Fraser worrying about the dye but continuing on his cancer-courting (and Ray courting) course regardless. And Rube Goldberg dreams. So much to love in this story.

Highly entertaining and a big lift to my day (which has been mostly occupied with immigration forms - blech).

Date: 2007-07-04 05:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Hee! Thank you. He is a gigantic goofball, isn't he? Such a perfect way to describe him.

I'm glad for the lift (it sounds like your day is much like Fraser's, except for the part where he gets to crawl into bed with Ray afterward. :o )

Date: 2007-07-04 03:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] vsee.livejournal.com
This story is sweet, and Fraser's cherry stem trick to me is mostly cute, since it seems, as Ray points out, a little dated and girly (which is why it is so *charming*). But you really got to me in some other points in the story with the hotness.

the line of his jaw calls to Fraser maddeningly, hourly, that he needs to put his mouth there and feel the short, golden stubble sanding his lips raw.

Oh, excellent. I love the detail, sensuous but not altogether *pleasant*, which strikes me as a Fraser-ish view.

That he needs Ray to fuck him. (Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.)

Thank you for the reminder that Fraser is a guy, even when he's himself. Hot.

The rub of Ray's hairy thigh drives Fraser to madness, and he strokes himself against it, squirms, thrusts, gasps and, in short order, releases, groaning with pleasure and shame. Ray is laughing, short huffs of delight, and caressing Fraser's sides with his hard hands.

This short section is really fresh, and the direct, crisp language gives it a lot of bite. So very GUH.

Fun story.

Date: 2007-07-04 05:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Yes, it's so quaint of him, I think. But once he has a plan, he is a man of action. :)

Thank you kindly for this lovely note. You made me squee.

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Date: 2007-07-04 07:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] laughingacademy.livejournal.com
One correction: sadly, Cooper never got to see Audrey perform the cherry stem trick; she did it during her job interview at One Eyed Jack’s.

Otherwise a perfect story, with the yearning and the obsessing and the yum.

Date: 2007-07-04 11:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
See, that's a perfect example of wishful memory. (sadness)

Thx, L.A.

Date: 2007-07-05 04:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nos4a2no9.livejournal.com
[livejournal.com profile] dessert_first already beat me to it: she pulled out every single one of my favourite lines/dialogue exchanges/passages and nailed exactly why they're good, but I love your writing waaaaay too much to get away with a "what she said" response. So here goes, and I apologize in advance for the repetition.

Your gift for the rhythm of language (in both the narrative and the character dialogue) shines through in this story. It's far from a PWP even though it features some of the hottest buildup to sex I've read in ages. You really seduce the readers with that delicious sense of language, of play with words and phrases, and your Fraser voice kills me ded. The thing with the cherry, Christ, we should write sonnets about it or something. That was absolutely inspired, and very Fraser-ish (with the research! and the single-minded focus on seducing Ray!) and it made me want to practise it myself ;-) This was a wonderful, hot, and powerful piece of writing. I think I want to build some kind of shrine to you. Or at least a good del.ici.ous rec page.

Date: 2007-07-05 04:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Hey, No9.

Your comments are already sonnets, my sweet. As I mentioned above, I was surprised folks liked this one because I felt I was being very naughty writing it. Perhaps I should seek out my inner naughtiness more often.

Re: the cherry trick, I've never done it either! Perhaps we should both try it. :) What is del.ici.ious? I've seen people mention it, but I'm behind the curve. Is it a blogging thing?

I'm so pleased you liked the offering. Thank you, as always, for your articulate and caring note.

Date: 2007-07-05 06:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mmmarmalade.livejournal.com
Ok, I've reached the point now that if your name is on it, I just click in and read it. Your words just fall into place with imagination and perfect placement and humour and heat.

Date: 2007-07-05 04:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Wow. :) And yay, thanks. I am extremely touched.

Date: 2007-07-05 05:09 pm (UTC)
ext_3190: Red icon with logo "I drink Nozz-a-la- Cola" in cursive. (dS: fraserhat)
From: [identity profile] primroseburrows.livejournal.com
"I can do other things," Fraser says confidentially. "With my tongue, that is. It's an extremely versatile appendage, and mine is more agile than most—"

Oh. My. God. Fraser!Flirting. With tongue. Thank you (kindly) for feeding my addiction. In such an IC and hot way, as well.

Also? Fraser would SO use a word like "coccyx" in a situation like this. I completely love it. Oh, FraserFraserFraser, how I love you. And your agile tongue.

Date: 2007-07-06 04:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Heh, Fraser is nothing but a big ol' tongue-flirt. :)

And he would SO use "coccyx." I bet he wouldn't even have to look up the spelling like I did. ;)

Thank you kindly for the comment.

Date: 2007-07-05 11:29 pm (UTC)
ext_1611: Isis statue (Fraser b&w)
From: [identity profile] isiscolo.livejournal.com
Oh, I liked this a whole lot. The usage of language is beautiful yet understated, and does more for the characterization than a whole string of Fraser cliche. Very sexy, very believable to me. Yum.

Date: 2007-07-06 04:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
Oh! Thank you very much! I enjoyed playing with his language.

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] isiscolo.livejournal.com - Date: 2009-04-12 03:42 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com - Date: 2009-04-12 08:18 pm (UTC) - Expand

Date: 2007-07-06 07:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] burntcopper.livejournal.com
one day I will have the patience to learn that trick. One day. :g:

Date: 2007-07-06 09:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arrow00.livejournal.com
It takes courage. Those cherries really are nasty. :)
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