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crack_van2011-10-09 06:49 pm
hazelwho.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2011-10-09 06:49 pm
Swimming with Sharks by Nos4a2no9 (NC-17)
Fandom: DUE SOUTH
Pairing: Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski
Length: 38,000 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nos4a2no9
Author Website: Nos's master fic list
Why this must be read:
Swimming with Sharks is one of those fics that makes you have ALL THE FEELINGS. It's angst and smut and humor and hurt/comfort and more smut all rolled up together. Nos takes the two of our fandom's oft-used, slightly cracky tropes (undercover at a gay bar and fuck-buddies) and turns them on their ear. The tropes set the stage, but the next thirty thousand words are a lovely character-driven exploration of Fraser and Ray K's complicated, evolving relationship. (Okay, fine, some of those thirty thousand words are smut-driven, but it's the really good kind of smut that serves the story.) Excerpt under the cut:
“Is it worth it?” he asked again, quieter this time but no less insistent. “Is it worth getting yourself killed over?”
Fraser frowned, and reached up to touch his black eye, wincing when his fingers made contact with his skin. Good, Ray thought savagely. Maybe Fraser needed to hurt. Maybe that was the only way he’d understand that he couldn’t trust people. Especially guys who just wanted to fuck him and drop him.
Fraser was silent for so long that Ray wasn’t sure if he was going to say anything at all. But when Fraser did speak, he sounded tired, and sad, and defeated. All the things that Benton Fraser, RCMP, wasn’t supposed to be. “Have you ever heard the expression, ‘The heart asks pleasure first’?”
Ray didn’t answer right away, pretending to consider Fraser’s question carefully even though he knew that it was just Fraser’s way of answering a question by asking another question. “Uh, no.”
“It’s something Emily Dickinson once wrote. The heart asks pleasure first/And then, excuse from pain/And then, those little anodynes/That deaden suffering.”
“Oh,” Ray said. Anodynes? One of those tide-pool things, with all the little flowery tentacles? “Uh, so, what’s it mean?”
“It means that if your options are limited, you ask for as little as you think you can get. As little as you deserve. And if you can’t get that, you ask for even less.”
“Jesus. That’s—”
“Yes, well,” Fraser said quickly, easing himself up a little so he could look at Ray. “It is what it is. If you can’t have what you want, you settle for what you can have.” He folded his hands over his chest and closed his good eye, like that was the end of their whole conversation. In the morning light, the bruises on Fraser’s face looked like small shadows, or even ink stains, dark against his pale, smooth skin. Ray had to look away.
“So you going all Mick Jagger on me?”
Fraser furrowed his brows, clearly puzzled. “Y’know, Mick Jagger. You can’t get what you want, so you just try and get what you need? And you’re honestly okay with that?”
Fraser snorted, and then hunched a little, like making that small noise had been painful. Probably had. “I’m not sure that it’s even about need, anymore. It’s just…something I had to do.”
Ray licked his lips, all the decisions of the past few hours rushing in on him, making him feel suddenly nervous and sweaty and totally out of his depth. But this was Fraser, he reminded himself. And Fraser shouldn’t be laid out in Ray’s bed like this, looking like…looking like he was dead. Dead and gone, and talking about how the best he could hope for was a little human warmth. Fraser deserved more. Fraser deserved everything.
The image of Fraser’s lonely cot in the Consulate flashed through Ray’s mind, and in that second, Ray knew exactly what he had to do. What he had to say. Before he could give himself time to think about it, he spoke. “What about me?”
Swimming with Sharks
Pairing: Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski
Length: 38,000 words
Author on LJ:
nos4a2no9Author Website: Nos's master fic list
Why this must be read:
Swimming with Sharks is one of those fics that makes you have ALL THE FEELINGS. It's angst and smut and humor and hurt/comfort and more smut all rolled up together. Nos takes the two of our fandom's oft-used, slightly cracky tropes (undercover at a gay bar and fuck-buddies) and turns them on their ear. The tropes set the stage, but the next thirty thousand words are a lovely character-driven exploration of Fraser and Ray K's complicated, evolving relationship. (Okay, fine, some of those thirty thousand words are smut-driven, but it's the really good kind of smut that serves the story.) Excerpt under the cut:
“Is it worth it?” he asked again, quieter this time but no less insistent. “Is it worth getting yourself killed over?”
Fraser frowned, and reached up to touch his black eye, wincing when his fingers made contact with his skin. Good, Ray thought savagely. Maybe Fraser needed to hurt. Maybe that was the only way he’d understand that he couldn’t trust people. Especially guys who just wanted to fuck him and drop him.
Fraser was silent for so long that Ray wasn’t sure if he was going to say anything at all. But when Fraser did speak, he sounded tired, and sad, and defeated. All the things that Benton Fraser, RCMP, wasn’t supposed to be. “Have you ever heard the expression, ‘The heart asks pleasure first’?”
Ray didn’t answer right away, pretending to consider Fraser’s question carefully even though he knew that it was just Fraser’s way of answering a question by asking another question. “Uh, no.”
“It’s something Emily Dickinson once wrote. The heart asks pleasure first/And then, excuse from pain/And then, those little anodynes/That deaden suffering.”
“Oh,” Ray said. Anodynes? One of those tide-pool things, with all the little flowery tentacles? “Uh, so, what’s it mean?”
“It means that if your options are limited, you ask for as little as you think you can get. As little as you deserve. And if you can’t get that, you ask for even less.”
“Jesus. That’s—”
“Yes, well,” Fraser said quickly, easing himself up a little so he could look at Ray. “It is what it is. If you can’t have what you want, you settle for what you can have.” He folded his hands over his chest and closed his good eye, like that was the end of their whole conversation. In the morning light, the bruises on Fraser’s face looked like small shadows, or even ink stains, dark against his pale, smooth skin. Ray had to look away.
“So you going all Mick Jagger on me?”
Fraser furrowed his brows, clearly puzzled. “Y’know, Mick Jagger. You can’t get what you want, so you just try and get what you need? And you’re honestly okay with that?”
Fraser snorted, and then hunched a little, like making that small noise had been painful. Probably had. “I’m not sure that it’s even about need, anymore. It’s just…something I had to do.”
Ray licked his lips, all the decisions of the past few hours rushing in on him, making him feel suddenly nervous and sweaty and totally out of his depth. But this was Fraser, he reminded himself. And Fraser shouldn’t be laid out in Ray’s bed like this, looking like…looking like he was dead. Dead and gone, and talking about how the best he could hope for was a little human warmth. Fraser deserved more. Fraser deserved everything.
The image of Fraser’s lonely cot in the Consulate flashed through Ray’s mind, and in that second, Ray knew exactly what he had to do. What he had to say. Before he could give himself time to think about it, he spoke. “What about me?”
Swimming with Sharks