Defining Desire

by Jane Davitt




Red used to mean danger. Red used to mean stop. Red, when it was blood-red, his blood, used to make him slightly sick to the stomach.

Red was the color of shame, embarrassment, humiliation, skin bright, skin hot.

Red was passion -- oh, yeah, he's getting closer now. Valentine's Day, hearts and flowers, roses are red…

But now, red means Fraser's coat, just that, and so, therefore, means warmth, means real and visible (hey, he can always see Fraser coming.)

And under all that red, under that buttoned-up, regulation gear, is Fraser's body, hidden, untouchable.

So red still means stop.

Fuck.


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