Chapter Text
Frasier Crane thought he knew himself better than most. He had always been certain when it came to his sexuality, and he had never even entertained the idea that he might have an attraction to another man. At least until those unusual dreams started, then...well, then he wasn't so certain anymore.
Good lord, even now, just thinking about it made him blush furiously. The image of the motel room still lingered in his mind--the crescent-shaped lamp on the nightstand, the tattoo spelling out "Chesty" in swirling cursive letters on his forearm, and especially the figure of Gil Chesterton stepping out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and an impish smile on his lips.
Frasier liked Gil as a coworker. He could act a little pompous at times, but he had impeccable taste in food (he was a critic, after all) and was usually cheerful and almost always easy to talk to. But why, Frasier wondered, had these dreams about Gil come about so suddenly? He wished that he could find a suitable answer. Even after discussing the dreams with his father Martin, his brother Niles, and even Daphne Moon, he still wasn't satisfied with his own conclusions.
Frasier didn't enjoy doubting himself, and he definitely balked at the strong and unfamiliar doubt that had begun to settle in his mind lately. Perhaps the dreams really had stemmed from a lack of interesting callers on his show, as he'd concluded to his dad. But he quickly realized that they couldn't be dismissed as only a product of boredom and nothing else. God knew trying explain that fully to his dad and to keep delving into the psychological details would be an exercise in futility.
He still adherred to the theory that his subconscious had taken his state of boredom and turned his analytical powers inward. Then at that point, perhaps, he had begun to piece together some of his thoughts and feelings which he hadn't realized were present. That was plausible... wasn't it?
Frasier wished that he could speak to Niles about his dreams again. Even after his show finally got busier a few weeks ago, they kept returning and becoming more vivid. His tentative new theories only seemed to get stronger each night, and the dreams had also started to grow more... intimate, as well. Out of anyone, he trusted that Niles could potentially bring some more insight into this ongoing situation. But his brother had his own concerns at the moment, and they hadn't had a chance to talk for more than a few minutes at a time.
Unfortunately, Frasier's inner struggle had continued to affect his day-to-day encounters with Gil. He couldn't even look him in the face anymore, especially once the dreams intensified. Every time they did run into each other, Gil would grin or wave or make some other relatively innocent gesture and Frasier's whole face would immediately flush as he averted his eyes.
Roz Doyle - true to form - kept teasing him mercilessly, too, which definitely did not help the situation at all. Yesterday, after they were wrapping up the show, she asked out of the blue, "So, when are you two going to go out on a date?"
Frasier had taken off his headphones and stared firmly at her.
"What do you mean?" he countered, although he knew exactly what she meant and could already feel his ears stinging.
"You and Gil," said Roz breezily. "The tension between you two is off the charts! You know, a few of us were actually thinking of making a bet on which one of you cracks first and makes the first move. Personally, I'm putting my money on Gil."
Frasier groaned miserably, hiding his face in his hands for a moment. "Please don't do that, for the love of God."
He looked back up to see Roz's teasing smirk.
"I have just a few erotic dreams about one man, and now people want to bet on whether we'll become a real couple!" exclaimed Frasier. "This is unbelievable. I can't even say hello to Gil without feeling awkward. Maybe... I mean... Roz, do you think Gil feels awkward about this whole thing, too, and is just trying to play it off as not a big deal?"
Roz shrugged.
"I guess there's one way to find out," she said. "Just ask him, Frasier. What's it going to hurt, really? Maybe getting everything out in the open is what you both need, and when you know where you each stand, go from there." She added with a laugh, "But just so you know, I've got twenty bucks that says Gil asks first."
The thought of actually sitting down in person and addressing everything with Gil mortified Frasier more than anything he could have imagined. How the hell would he even begin that conversation?
Hello, Gilbert. Gil. Old friend. I've been having some rather intense recurring dreams about you lately, as you've already been made aware of, and I'm not exactly sure why or what this means in terms of my sexuality. You're probably just as embarrassed about this as I am, so if we don't actually feel attracted to each other that way, I hope we can still be good colleagues.
It sounded simple enough. Fairly direct and careful, with the chance of things going one way or the other. Depending on Gil's reaction, Frasier could always apologize and try to smooth things over. Or he might discover the emotions that he had been experiencing were true and that Gil...felt the same way.
That possibility made Frasier's heartbeat quicken with a flutter of nervousness and cautious hope. He hadn't told anyone about his most recent dreams yet, but they had actually given him a better glimpse into himself in a way that some of the others hadn't before. Maybe they would even give him the confidence to talk to Gil--at least, eventually.
For the past few nights, he dreamt that he was in his own apartment and settling down for bed (thank God for that, the motel room was horrid). He had just found a comfortable position when he felt someone tuck themselves in behind him and slip one arm forward to hold him close. Sometimes that was when these recent dreams ended, or he would even hear a softly-spoken, "Goodnight, my love." But one night this past week, he was treated to a new ending.
"I must say, this is much better than that cheap motel," whispered his companion this time.
Frasier hummed in agreement. It was silent for a while as the two of them seemed to doze off. Suddenly Frasier felt movement behind him, and then, a soft kiss was planted on the back of his neck. He jolted slightly, caught off guard; but after a second, longer kiss to the same spot, he sighed and relaxed again.
"There's nothing to be afraid of, my love," his companion assured. "You'll know when you're ready."
The moment had felt so real and unexpected that Frasier woke up the next morning with his neck tingling. He couldn't recall a dream affecting him that profoundly before. As much as he wanted Niles' opinion on these latest developments, he didn't know if he should tell his brother about that particular detail.
He doesn't need to know everything, Frasier reasoned, Besides, I'm sure he's gotten fed up with having to psychoanalyse his own brother's nightly fantasies.
However he proceeded, he knew he would have to make a decision soon... or else he would never be able to have any sort of healthy interaction with Gil again.