TITLE: Best Left Unseen
E-MAIL: eli @ popullus.net
ARCHIVE: Ask, please.
RATING: PG-13
POSTED: March 17, 2005
AUTHOR NOTES: Sometimes nudity isn't a problem. Other times...other people...it is. Thanks to Minnow for soldiering through for the beta.
DISCLAIMER: Read
Fraser hadn't been positive that he truly wanted to do this, but it had almost been a direct challenge. If he set aside the requirement for formal declarations of intent and acceptance, that was entirely what it had been. Ray hadn't thought he would do it; Fraser couldn't let that pass.
Now here he was, standing next to the car with its engine clicks dying away in the heat, staring out across the strip of bright sand dotted with mostly prone figures, clutching the rough strap of his bag so tight within his fists that he feared the marks would remind him of this for days. He stood there, and the pause quickly filled with unspoken words from the other side of the car. So Fraser set his jaw and, refusing to give in to the pressure that wanted to be released from his neck, said, "It looks inviting."
Diefenbaker let out a short bark of agreement, and dashed straight for the cool blue of the lake, swerving once to avoid a long...man. That was a man, Fraser realized, not sun-dried driftwood. Well. At least his back was to them.
Ray snorted. "No way we're catching him before he hits water. But there's still time to turn around while I'm the only one who's seen you in just your flip-flops, Frase."
Fraser looked across the hood at Ray's taunting grin. "I've been nude in public before, Ray," he said. And because he doubted Ray could say so himself, he added, "Several times."
Ray's grin deepened, even as it appeared to waver in the heat rising from the metal between them, and Fraser wished again that he hadn't turned down Ray's offer of his spare pair of sunglasses.
"Not the same," Ray scoffed. "Running around with everything hanging out when all those things are freezing off, I doubt anyone's doing much sightseeing."
Fraser frowned. "I thought you said it was considered impolite to stare at a nude beach."
"Yeah." Ray laughed and shook his head, coming around the front of the car to face him. "Got one word for you, Fraser: America."
As much as that shorthand often masked any number of mistaken beliefs, in this case, it was hardly an answer. Ray had said, "No staring's, like, part of the code. It's as close to a rule as they've got." Ray had said that clearly; Fraser hadn't misunderstood, he was sure of that.
Eyes narrowing, he pulled in a deep breath, and then choked on it when he was interrupted.
"Definitely not as welcoming an atmosphere as the Takhini hot springs, son. Why, it might be hotter than the record set back in 1969, and that had people talking about taking jumps into Long Lake instead. Although...I can see why this heat would be preferable for this particular crowd..."
Oh, no, Fraser thought, dropping his head, rejection and resignation vying for control. Not now.
He heard a quick step, rubber sticking slightly on overheated tar, and almost repeated that last plea out loud before it registered that the sound had come from in front of him.
"Just joking," Ray said, and he bent down, likely to try to make eye contact, but Fraser kept his face turned away, listening carefully, and he let out a small sigh when he heard nothing that couldn't be accounted for by Ray and himself.
Maybe, he thought, his father had adopted a new motto: Veni, Vidi, Vamoosied, as Ray might mangle. It was always possible to hope. His father had practically said as much when he'd walked in on a moment that would have been far, far worse if Ray hadn't somehow heard Dief "barking like he'd been goosed by aliens."
"People'll take a peek, you betcha, but, y'know..." Ray's voice took on an underlying growl, "...anyone stares, you go right on over and kick sand in their face. Got it?"
Confident that he had control of his expression again, Fraser looked up and pinned Ray with a raised eyebrow.
Ray's smile returned, harsh this time, promising retribution for any imagined infractions. "Right. Okay, I'll go kick," he amended on a small laugh.
"You might want to point out that he's going to be doing a lot of kicking, if all those looks we're getting already are any indication."
Fraser closed his eyes as his father's voice came up to his right side, but he didn't manage to shut them before catching a glimpse of shockingly white skin. An arm. He was almost positive all he'd seen was an arm. And that could have been bare because of short sleeves, he reminded himself.
"Not that I think he won't notice for himself, once he turns around. He's not the most brilliant of minds, but he's not stupid, either."
Fraser winced. He couldn't help it. But with Ray so close now that he could feel the heat of another body, even under the overhead August sun, there was no hope of camouflaging the hiss of "Would you shut up and go away?" that he desperately wanted to direct at his possibly naked father.
At that last, blunt thought, he groaned.
A shadow moved over his closed eyes, darkening the stoplight-red glare he could see through his lids to a more bloody hue.
"Fraser..." Concern had seeped into Ray's voice, and that wasn't any good. "Really, you don't have to do this. I'll grab the wolf, shake him around a bit to dry him off, and we'll get ice cream. How's that sound?"
"Ha! You tell him how it sounds."
Fraser opened his eyes and kept them on Ray's, which, sunglasses gone, were narrow and worried, and locked on his.
"It sounds like, 'no.' Or 'never,' as in 'never would a man abandon a direct challenge.'"
Perhaps it was foolish, but his own foolishness always fit well with Ray, Fraser thought. Harmony. "I think--"
"...especially not from a Yank."
That muttered aside did it. "I think we should both retrieve Dief from the water," Fraser said.
Ray pulled back, his head cocked questioningly. "You know you'll need to..."
He gestured, a sharp two-handed movement that left Fraser's mouth drier than all that sand. To be truthful, Fraser admitted, it was the vivid, skin-heating memory of exactly what that action usually led to that did the job. Whatever the precise cause, though, the result was the critical need to swallow as he nodded and said, "Yes, I'm well aware of that, thank you."
What he decided it was better not to say, despite Ray's doubting frown, was that frankly, the idea of several dozen strangers staring at whatever they wanted to ogle as he ran to and from the lake shore wasn't anywhere near as unnerving as the fact of his father beside him, urging him on while as bare as hopefully only Buck Frobisher could still attest to having ever seen.
No, he wouldn't say that. It wouldn't serve any purpose but confusion, and he had a better idea.
"That's the spirit!"
Fraser pointedly turned his body slightly away from that voice and whatever else might, or might not, be there. Ray, he noticed, was examining him. And that focus, as always, focused him as well.
"And then we'll get ice cream," he said, enjoying the way Ray's eyes widened. "At the grocery."
"Grocery? What're you doing, son?"
What I want to do, Fraser thought.
"Enough to make a sundae, perhaps. With..." He paused, tilted his own head as if he was considering, and then deliberately, slowly, licked his lips. "Yes, with chocolate sprinkles."
"You don't like condiments on your ice cream..."
Fraser did his best to ignore that, much preferring to focus on how Ray blinked, his pupils dilating without any change in the sun's glare, and then shoved his sunglasses back onto his face.
"Okay, yeah, so, so we've got a plan," Ray said, his voice hoarse enough that he then had to clear his throat.
Feeling a rather...hungry smile come into being, Fraser let it appear.
A sharp head-twitch, a quick spin, and Ray was settled into an anticipatory stance facing the beach.
"Ready?"
Blocking out everything but Ray poised next to him and the white shape flashing in and out of the water, Fraser dropped his bag. He didn't hear it hit the pavement.
"Ready."
"Then let's go streak some naked folks."
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