Rating: PG -13? (Mild language)
Warning: Slashy angst.
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Disclaimer: The boys and the wolf and anything Due-related that I might have mentioned are not mine (Alliance, those clever bastards!), and they never will be, so why do I even try? Well, cuz it's fun! Oh, and U2 and the songs are from Island Records, Inc.
Spoilers: none
Summary: Fraser is doing the "I'm so sorry for myself" thing, because he's got the love thing happening.
Notes: I was inspired by U2. Who wouldn't be? The title is U2, there is lyrics in it, and I am loving them so much for getting this into my head. Oh, look for sequels.

You can email me with any feedback @ go_bananak@yahoo.com. Oh, and RayK would SO listen to U2, so don't write to me disagreeing with that! U2 Kicks A**! Enjoy :)

There he is.

I watch him, as I have always done, and will always do. Watching and wishing...

He walks over from across the street. He doesn't look at me, of course. He would rather *not* be run over by a passing vehicle. Yes, he *is* jay-walking. Instead, he keeps his eyes focused on the on-coming cars, as I keep mine on him.

It is better this way, because I know that if he looked at me right now, everything would change. There is no room for change right now, I say to myself. It's not the right time. It never is. Still, I find myself wanting him to look, needing the look on his face to be forever changed. But of course, that's fiction. I would never let it happen. It's hopeless, helpless really. I've been reduced to a blithering mass of empty wishes.

"Hey Frase, you all right?" He is right next to the car, his head leaning in through his opened window.

"Yes, Ray, I'm fine," I respond, startled that the movement of time has occurred without my knowledge. That happens often. His point of asking me if I'm all right happens just as often and I respond the same way. I'm fine. Fine, except for the fact that it hurts not to have him near me, nearer, on me. With me. Needing me as much as I need him.

He is now in his seat, turning the ignition. I watch his hands for the umpteenth time today, wanting them on me. They move only to maintain a controlled stance on the steering wheel.

He yawns, and I smile. It is midday, and Ray is already tired.

He catches me, and returns my smile, though on him, it's sheepish. "Late night. Sorry Frase."

Thoughts of Ray and late nights make me tingle inside. I smile a little broader, and he turns his attention back on the road. My smile slowly disappears. It's not as if I would like to be in an accident, but if only he would look at me for just a little longer.

I suddenly want to be out of this car, out of this city. I want peace, quiet and elapsed freedom. I want my father's cabin, warm and inviting, but empty. I want it secluded from any form of life so I can be alone and away from this searing pain that begins in my chest but continues throughout my body until I am stiff, weak and dying. I am dying slowly from this hurt. From these wishes. Of course, my mind betrays me once more to have thoughts of Ray joining me in that cabin, in that emptiness and filling it so completely with his love for me. Empty wishes that betray my mind too often.

The radio is on, and a song fills the GTO. It is soft, melodic, and somewhat sad. Ray turns it up, announcing to me that the band is U2.

"What a great tune, from a kick-ass band," he exclaims, turning his eyes on me for a moment, one sweet moment that I wish would be everlasting. Of course, he turns his head in order to drive once more, and I instead get to look at his profile. That is not enough, nothing is; yet, it satisfies me for the moment. Thank God for that.

The lyrics fill my head. Ray notices my look of concentration.

"The singer, Bono, wrote the song to apologise to his wife. Somethin' about forgettin' their anniversary or her birthday, or somethin'," he explains.

Of course, I have my own interpretation. Is that not the reason to enjoy music? I listen, and the melody reflects sadness and longing.

That's enough for me. The song touches me.

I look at Ray, watching him mumble out the lyrics as he watches the traffic ahead of us. The sunlight has breached the clouds now, pouring through the windows. It illuminates Ray, softening, calming, and soothing every inch of that beautiful profile. I want to reach over and feel the sun on his cheek, run my fingers down his neck, his chest. I want to live in that sunlight, Ray and I together, living in warmth, in happiness, in love.

The clouds have claimed the sun once more, casting bitter shadows on that once beautiful sight. I find myself breathing in sharply, and then I exhale, letting my emotions pass, letting that moment, that sweet moment pass and leave me in my ever-familiar state of sadness and longing. The song is back in my mind and the lyrics recognise the bitter feelings that overwhelm me.

*I guess it's a blind kind of love.*

And, as well for another umpteenth time, I inwardly berate myself. He's my partner. He's my friend. Why must I have these feelings for him? Correction: these damned desires that fill my mind so that nothing else can occupy it and I fall and fall until I can't sleep, I can't speak, I just blither on inanely until he looks at me, he talks back, he smiles.

Love is blind. And in my case, it's blinding. To the point that I don't even recognise myself any longer.

The song continues. My own feelings and desires are belted out, but fall on deaf ears. We have turned onto the street where the car will stop and let me out. Once again, the last thing I can think of doing right now is work. My choices are quite limited, though, as Ray slows, and comes to a stop on the side of the road.

He's still humming the song. I hate him and love him at the same time. It hurts. Hurts so much, but I ease myself out of the car. The window on my door lowers and I find myself leaning in.

"Frase, you wanna, I dunno, go get a bite to eat after work?" he asks me. Of course I say yes. I always say yes. I don't, however, say anything else. I don't say 'of course, Ray' or 'absolutely, Ray' or 'sounds great Ray, can I go home with you after dinner so I can show you how much you mean to me, how much I really love you?'

Nothing else leaves my lips, and I hurt even more as I see him nod, smile, and say good-bye. He drives off, and I watch after him, as always, feeling my heart being ripped apart.

*Ain't love the sweetest thing.*