“Fraser,” Ray whispers, his head inches from Fraser’s. The tight cocoon of the tent, of the sleeping bags, of the Yukon, makes it seem like Fraser’s face is Ray’s entire world and it’s all Ray can do to keep from grabbing for it. “Fraser. I have to tell you something.”

Fraser’s eyes blink sleepily, but he gamely opens them. He licks his lips and stretches his arms over his head, cracking his neck and settling back down on the pillow. He nods a little and waits for Ray.

“I loved someone else. During Stella. Except not because she wasn’t mine then. She was with some guy named Drake. Tattoos and shit. Her parents hated him even more than they hated me and she dumped him for me. So I guess between Stella and Stella, I was in love.”

Fraser shifts a little and touches Ray’s wrist with one finger. Ray can feel the reassurance in the touch, the strength Fraser’s got to offer if he needs it. He inhales slowly and soldiers on.

“I loved a guy, Fraser. Benton. Ben…”

Fraser’s hand circles his wrist now and Ray lets Fraser lift his hand and kiss the knuckles. Ray exhales and closes his eyes, shielding himself from Fraser’s comforting gaze.

“His name was Colin. And I fucking loved him. He was … the world. And I was some kind of explorer. I had an adventure. But this. Us. Our adventure. ‘sbetter than Colin.”

“Different.”

Ray opens his eyes and stares at Fraser’s face, takes in the stubble and sharp angles of his cheekbones. Fraser’s got sleepers crusted in the corners of his eyes and Ray knows that the edges of Fraser’s nostrils are red and flaking from the cold just like his own. Fraser licks his lips, his fingers still firm around Ray’s wrist.

“Better.”