not_that_ray | (no subject)

Entry tags:

dief,
fraser

(no subject)

"Coffee. God, somebody please get me a cup of coffee."

A silence hangs between them for several long minutes. What does a man say to a story like that? How can he convey his remorse? Once in a blue moon, Ray will have the sense to just keep his mouth shut. Now is one of those times.

When his order finally arrives, Ray has it packaged to go.

It's a fact that doesn't go unnoticed. Fraser watches his friend, as if gauging the change in the conversation's mood. He's the one who finally breaks that silence. "The answer is yes, Ray. I would." He pauses, and a smile ventures forth. "Just as long as it's not oatmeal."

Nothing to worry about there. In the apartment of one Ray Kowalski not an ounce of Oatmeal shall ever be found.

"Stuff's nasty," he adds without reservation or tact.

Fraser's smile widens, as he lifts the mug of tea. "Yes, it is. Especially when it's made with orange juice."

It would surely be a 'spray coffee across the table' moment if he had any in his mouth. Instead his face scrunches up in disgust.

"Orange Ju- No. No, that's just not right, Fraser. I have a perfectly good appetite. Don't ruin it with stories of gross mixed with yuck."

He blinks, then comprehends. Just about. "Oh. Sorry."

"S'alright," is the immediate reply.

There's something he's forgetting. He was supposed to-

Dammit. What is he forgetting? BING BING BING BING BING LIGHT BULB.

"The latte."

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