video;

[dogsled]

[ The face that comes on screen is handsome, warm and charming, if a little knotted with some kind of concern. There's a point to all this, but right now he's just going to get on and talk, after kneading his eyebrow for a moment. ]

I was wondering if... I realize things have been quite terrible, recently, and therefore this question is perhaps not in the current mood of things, but I want to ask an, I suppose, unrelated question. No, I mean, I don't suppose. It is unrelated. [ He's waffling, and obviously nervous. ]

Traditions are important to all of us. I don't have many of my own. I suppose in my case it would be kinder to call them neuroses. Everything must be in its place, and if there are rules then they are there for a reason, and ought to be followed. In the case of tradition there is a certain degree of choice. You can abandon the traditions of home, or those of your parents, if you so choose, or perhaps adopt those of other cultures...

[ He's not really off topic. This is, surprisingly, what he's trying to talk about. ]

The Inuit don't really have a traditional marriage celebration, for example. Some absorbed the traditions of Christianity, over the years, but certainly there wasn't much. I suppose the kidnap of the bride could be considered a tradition but it's hardly appropriate, nor so widespread as...never mind.

I suppose what I'm trying to say is...so long as two people love each other, the traditions shouldn't matter, should they? Love doesn't come from gold rings, after all, it's only resembled by them. Although I do agree that the exchange is a beautiful tradition, it's no more correct than--an exchange of furs, for example, or the exchange of bird of paradise feathers by the tribes of Papua New Guinea.

Perhaps--perhaps it would be more comforting to know a little more about your own traditions, whatever they may be. Not necessarily in terms of the act of matrimony but...anything that would qualify, I suppose, as a relic of home. Are there things you simply have to do? Even such simple a thing as a bedtime ritual would count, I suppose.

Comments

[cuff]

[ Oh well, ow, okay, that was kind of like a sucker punch but he gets it. He does. To the extent that Ray can really hand over anything quite so easily, which is where the whuff of frustrated exhalation comes from. He thought he'd be fine with any answer. He thought it wouldn't matter when they got down to it.

Apparently it did. Apparently he was touchy and he hadn't even known. ]

You might've said that once or twice, yeah. And it's not the same, I know it isn't. Whole different ballgame this one, I get it. I'm just, y'know- [ scrambling for vestiges. ] I told you it's fine. We're good. I'm good.

[dogsled]

Yes but... I don't want it to be about 'fine', Ray. These are choices that may, dependent on how long we live here, affect us for the rest of our lives. You care deeply for the tradition, which is why we must observe it. Because it matters to you.

Ray, it's simply... Just because I don't have traditions of my own doesn't mean that I don't want to observe any. I want to choose the ones that matter to you, and make meaning out of others, and I don't wish to be contrary about it. Dismissing the entire thing with suggestions that you're fine with it merely negates your importance in this endeavor, Ray. The impression you ought to be making on me, on us.

[cuff]

I'll work on my impression making, then. [ It's grumbled under his breath more than anything, trying his hardest not to be overtly hostile but not only failing miserably, doing a good job of tearing himself up inwardly as well. Besides, it's easier to be a grouch at this point than it is to figure out how to make this easy. ]

Look, Fraser- if they're not your traditions, if they don't make sense, then they don't got a point. You're just doin it to do it, which isn't what I want from you either. We can go sign a piece of paper at the courts and then be done with it just that easy, it's fine with me. And if you wanna exchange furs, we can do that too. [ He scrubs a hand over his face, shrugging. ] Stella did all this shit before, okay, I didn't have anything to do with it.

[dogsled]

But there must be something you want, Ray. You wore a ring for a decade before, it means something to you.

[ He has no idea how to explain himself properly. He wants to mark the occasion somehow, wants to do it with something that would mean something to Ray, at least, he's just a practical man at heart, and he knows he seems stubborn, but this is him trying to adjust.

Just like all his other little adjustments. ]

This isn't just about me, Ray. It hasn't ever been.

[cuff]

[ He gets it, he does. Or at least he thinks he does because he's really trying to here. Though he's also trying to make it easy because getting into a fight about this shit is just not his idea of a good time. ]

Yeah, sure, it meant something to me then. But it's gotta mean something to everyone involved, don't it? And if you're worried about the practicalities then i'm gonna be doing the same thing and feeling guilty, so let's just-

We can find something that makes it about us.

[dogsled]

But--

[ Fraser falls quiet, because he could keep arguing about this - he could - but at this point even if he did want to exchange rings, he believes he's killed the mood for it. Ray will always feel that he's giving it to him out of some sense of duty, even if with greater thought he has grown to understand the meaning behind it. Even for physical impracticalities, if it means that much he wants to be a part of it, and he can't really convey that meaning in his words.

He drops his hands to Diefenbaker's head for a moment, and sighs. ]

What would you suggest, then?

[cuff]

[ He's fucked this one up, hasn't he. Hasn't he. He wants Fraser to just say it, to cough it up, to point the finger of blame and say that he's being a dipshit for reasons he can't make sense of. He knows it's got to do with Stella, and over a decade of marriage, and what it means to hold on to something you've no longer got. But maybe the time for the impracticality of rings has simply come to a head, and now Ray can't do anything but go against his grain.

Which just makes him all kinds of grumpy and confused and unbearably unsettled. ]

I don't got a clue. Something simple. Simple sounds good.

[dogsled]

[ He doesn't know what Ray wants him to say. He's not capable of exploding with anger, or blaming anyone but himself for anything, and that has never broken in their time together. Fraser is just too gentle a spirit, and he can't help himself. There's nothing brutal about him; he's not capable of being angry about this, or deliberately challenging.

He just wants Ray to be happy, and everything about his bearing right now is anything but. ]

Will you... Will you leave it in my hands, Ray? We'll exchange something, only leave it to me what it will be?

[cuff]

[ It's not like he thinks Fraser actually might. But sometimes, just sometimes, he'd appreciate some kind of a kick in the head. Something angry, emotionally jarring, something sharp edged to remind him that Fraser has just as much capacity tucked away to knock the stuffing out of him with well aimed words.

-- Okay so he kind of knows that without violence being involved, but the point stands. Which is why he gives Fraser something of a rough look, staring for long seconds while searching out hidden possibilities tucked inside Fraser's proposition. ]

Sure. Yeah. I can do that. But I swear, if you show up with rings just to make a point, i'm gonna do you in.

[dogsled]

Ray--Ray, that's very unfair. What if I elected to choose rings for my own purposes, in the end? It's quite possible, and you would deny me the option.

[ That is literally the closest to arguing he'll get. The thing is, he's not Stella. Ray and Stella did argue, for a lot of their marriage, and Fraser being incapable probably makes it harder for Ray to get a bearing on how he feels. It's not for lack of trying, but it would hardly be the first time that he'd been accused of being unreadable.

He's trying though. Adjusting is just so hard. ]

[cuff]

[ Ray suddenly has the urge to pop back up and start wandering, to pace around the couch while Fraser sits just to burn off the energy that's starting to build in his chest. Though he's fully aware that would do nothing to help the situation and only work everything up to an agitated frenzy... goddamn it's hard to keep still. ]

Well look, okay- fine. That's an option, that's definitely an option. And if you wanna go for it, and I mean really, then we'll do it.

[dogsled]

[ Fraser is honestly surprised that he didn't spring back up the moment his ass touched the couch. Ray does have far too much energy to sit and talk things out like this, which is why it largely hasn't worked before at all. It usually needs to be cold, and Ray needs to be stuck under a blanket crouched by a fire, or something, to make him hold still for even a few minutes. ]

Thank you, Ray. I'll tell you what I decide, shall I?

Is there anything you'd prefer to organize, in particular?

[cuff]

[ He's trying. Adaptation is a two way street after all, and he's trying, trying to bear out this conversation for as long as humanely possible, but his insides are already bouncing off the walls, heart rate at a fever pitch, heel starting to bounce against the couch cushion like a rocket ready to take off. This is giving him the jitters and he's already a hot minute away from imagining himself taking a brisk walk through the kitchen and back again, knocking his head against the wall on his way. ]

You mean like a thing? Organizing a thing? Or organizing us? Cause I'm good with just us, you know that, right?

[dogsled]

A thing, Ray. A...An element of our marriage. I want it to mean something to both of us. I'll handle the exchange, but there's also the ceremony, if we have one at all, and the reception. People have expectations of some kind of party, I suspect, which isn't really my kind of thing.

[ Not to say they shouldn't have one, though. He looks at Ray imploringly. Fix this for him? ]

[cuff]

[ It's at that that Ray finally pops up back onto his feet - not out of anger but out of repressed nerves, running rampant through the whole of him. There's nothing he can do but bounce it out and walk back towards the kitchen, stalking around and shaking out his shoulders before diving into the fridge and pulling out a beer, which he promptly sets on the table, no actual inclination to open it. ]

Sure, sure- I can organize a thing. Because there's always a thing. Food, toasts, dancing, icing on the cake. But Ben, who the hell'd we even invite?

[dogsled]

Well...friends, I suppose. We do have friends, Ray. That nice young man Felix, for example. Jeff, Winry. I'm sure we could think of a few if we put our minds to it.

[ He watched Ray move, relieved at least that he was expelling some of his energy. It was a good thing. Stuck to the chair, he'd been beginning to look like he might explode. He tried to look encouraging, sitting slightly forward. ]

And I'm not asking you to ice the cake yourself.

[cuff]

[ At the mention of Felix, Ray lifts a suspicious eyebrow, though doesn't yet provide commentary on that particular conversation. And while he can think of a few more names off the top of his head, Ray still manages to wave a hand around. ] You really want Jeff there? Really? I mean c'mon, think about that one. He's a disaster waiting to happen and then some. He'll get you wasted again and then, we-

[ Stop the presses for a momentary lascivious grin. ]

Maybe it wouldn't be all bad but Ben, I can't even frost a cake to save my life. Or yours for that matter.

[dogsled]

[ Fraser looks uncertain at that grin. Why would he grin at the thought of getting him... Oh. He frowned at Ray. ]

Well perhaps not the cake then. And I don't think I'd appreciate getting so inebriated that I can't remember our wedding, no matter how you feel about my...capacity.

[cuff]

[ Oh. Great. He went and made Ben all distressed, that wasn't his intent. Feeling sufficiently dampened with guilt, Ray glanced back to crack open his beer, soaking in accidental silence while he tried to backpedal into something else. ]

Kidding, Ben. Kidding. I wouldn't let you get plastered. Look, it- we'll figure it out. Even if it's just a fuckin pot luck in the front yard.

[dogsled]

[ Got him. That was Canadian trolling, Ray, sorry. He smiles into his shirt collar, then reaches across, patting the chair beside him again. ]

Come back?

[cuff]

[ Sometimes Ray doesn't know if he likes it more when you're being a dick or not, Fraser. But now he's just stringing the moment along, taking a sip of beer, strumming his fingers on the countertop as he narrows his gaze. ]

Keep grinnin like that and maybe I will.

[dogsled]

[ He cocked his head, looking hopeful, shyly, back up at the other man. ]

Please, Ray?

[cuff]

Try me again, but hey, maybe- [ Ray picked up his beer by the neck of the bottle, dangling it between his fingers as he meandered his way back over to the couch, slinging one leg onto the cushion and then dropping gently down the rest of the way. ]

Maybe next time a little more emphasis on the please.

[dogsled]

[ The moment Ray is with him on the couch, Fraser bends into him, looping his arm around his back and laying his head down on his shoulder. He sighs, softly, and closes his eyes. ]

Please, [ He repeated, emphasizing the word. ]

[cuff]

[ Ray'd be lying if he said he didn't like the cuddles, the closeness. Shifting only a little to make sure Fraser's got the room to curl into him like an overly large cat, his cheek brushed Fraser's bangs while he moved his beer out of the way. ]

You got me. [ His free hand curled around Fraser's back, curling possessively into his hair, a minute grin curling Ray's lips.