(Standard, all-purpose disclaimer) All pre-existing characters are the property of the creators and producers of "Due South." No copyright infringement is intended. All new characters and situations are the sole property and responsibility of the author.
What I wrote on my summer vacation ... :) I purposely decided to visit people who I knew didn't have a computer so I wouldn't be tempted to write anything, and what happened? I ended up scribbling frantically on every scrap of paper I could find.
Fairly mild but unmistakable m/m content, so be warned. No naughty words. Sooner or later, I'll get around to writing "Sunset."
by Katrina Bowen
Drowsily, Ben rested his chin on Ray's shoulder and stared at the wall; judging by the height of the patch of sunlight in front of him, it was probably between 6:15 and 6:25 a.m. There had been a time when he would have been out of bed for some time already. Twenty-three minutes to shower and shave. Ten minutes to dress. Probably eight or nine minutes to argue with Diefenbaker. The rest of the time before work would have gone toward breakfast, cleaning whatever part of his apartment needed it, and writing in his journals. Or if it had been, as it was today, one of his days off, he would have immediately started doing something practical and useful. All terribly efficient and routine, and all terribly empty.
Before, his body had only recognized two states: asleep and awake. He'd never consciously registered any transition between the two. This business of lying in bed, gradually drifting out of a dream, sometimes rolling over, curling himself around the warm body next to him and slipping into another dream ... this was something new to be explored and treasured.
Or sometimes, when his mind and body fell back into their old habits and snapped to alertness at the first hint of light, he'd just wrap his arms around Ray. His lover would shift a little, mold his body more neatly into Ben's, mutter something indistinct, and fall effortlessly back asleep. The difference between Ray awake and Ray asleep still caught Ben by surprise sometimes. When he slept, all the protective layers came down, and cynical, prickly, passionate Ray Vecchio became unguardedly affectionate and responsive. Ben had seen hints of the difference at times, but it wasn't until they had started sleeping together, in the literal as well as the figurative sense, that he finally began to decipher the complexity of the man he'd fallen in love with.
In fact, spending the nights together was the one thing that Ben had some trouble getting used to at first. He'd had lovers before -- he certainly hadn't been a virgin, despite the impression some people seemed to have -- but until Ray, he'd never had someone to lie next to all through the night, until he knew the patterns of the other's breathing as well as his own. And now, he only wondered how he'd managed to live as long as he had without the feeling of another heart beating slowly next to his, of arms thrown comfortably around his chest, of another's breath soft against his neck. Of course, the more actively physical parts of the situation weren't bad, either.
It hadn't happened at once, but Ray had eventually started spending more and more nights at Ben's apartment. Neither of them had proposed the arrangement or even discussed the matter -- it probably wasn't a conscious decision on either side, Ben reflected. It just felt right. More precisely, it felt *necessary* to spend the nights together; the daytime hours were largely taken up by their separate responsibilities. And even then, Ben thought ruefully, they usually seemed to find reasons to be together. They always had.
How had this happened? On the surface, it seemed an unlikely series of events. First, Ray had been someone who helped him find his father's killer. Then he'd turned into a friend, the best friend he'd ever had. And then one day, Ben had realized that he didn't just love Ray; he was *in* love with Ray. And the heady combination of affection, lust, respect, tenderness and, well, friendship was something that he'd never felt for anyone.
After that realization, there had been the long, awkward dance ... **How can I be feeling these things about him? Does he feel the same about me? Should I say something, or wait for him to give me a sign?** But somehow, at some point it had stopped being something strange and incomprehensible to be worried about. It became, simply, inevitable. Ben's life had taken a direction that he'd never imagined, and he found that he was enjoying himself immensely.
Before Ray, he wouldn't have been able to have a conversation lasting over an hour about absolutely nothing at all. He wouldn't have felt comfortable during one of the free-for-all skirmishes that the Vecchios called "dinner time." He wouldn't have found so much pleasure in the sheer luxury of just lying here, deciding whether or not he was awake yet. Before Ray, he wouldn't -- Ben smiled at himself. **Is that how I know I'm in love? When I unconsciously start dividing my life into "Before Ray" and "After Ray"?** It was probably as good a definition as any other he could think of.
A door slammed down the hall, and Ray stirred in Ben's arms. He yawned, stretched, and rolled over on his back -- Ben moved over a little on the narrow bed to accomodate Ray's movements. He raised himself on one elbow. "Good morning, Ray."
Ray blinked and smiled up at him -- that slow, brilliant smile that had captured Ben the first time he'd seen it, and that could still make his heart stand still. Ray lifted his hand and gently ran a finger across the stubble on Ben's chin. "So how long have you been awake this time, huh?"
Ben glanced at the wall. The patch of sunlight had moved a little, but not much. "About seventeen minutes, I think."
Ray shook his head in mock disappointment even as his hand slipped to the back of Ben's neck. "And you're not out of bed yet? Geez, Benny. Life in the big city spoiling you?"
"In all the most wonderful ways," Ben whispered as he leaned down for his first kiss of the day.