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kathierif_ficTitle: Happy New Year
Author: Kathie
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: I don't own them…sad, isn’t it?
Summary: January 2: Stella asks Mac about New Years Eve…
Pairing: Mac/Don/Danny
Author's Notes: Feedback very much appreciated…
Fandom: CSI:NY
“Happy new year!” Stella says and sits down opposite Mac in his office. It’s the second of January, and they have a lot to do, so Mac lifts his eyebrow at her behavior. He expected her to be already off on a case, like the rest of his CSIs are.
Stella frowns. “How are you?” she asks carefully without waiting for him to answer the cheerful ‘happy new year’, and Mac knows perfectly well what she means.
He smiles at her concern, masked as it is, and takes his time to think before he answers slowly: “I’m fine…how was the party?”
Stella grins from one ear to the other, and it’s enough for Mac. They know each other for so long, he can read her like a crime scene, and he knows that Stella had a lot of fun on New Year’s Eve, and that she is happy with her life at the moment, and he is glad for her. Stella deserves happiness more than most of the people Mac knows.
“So – what did you do?” Stella wants to know, although she is relatively sure the answer is “work”. She remembers all too well the last year, when she went to the lab on New Years Eve because she had forgotten her necklace in her locker, and she found Mac in his office, buried in files and lab work – it is one of the images she remembers sometimes, when she thinks about lonely, sad people.
She has seen so much worse in her years as a cop, but this image touched her deeper than some of the most gruesome murders, and she isn’t sure why.
She’s relieved that in the past year, Mac started to live a little – he takes small steps towards his former self, very small steps, but they are steps nonetheless, and Stella could have squealed in delight, hugged him and kissed him, when he had accidentally let slip that he’s been on a date, because she was so happy for him. Stella knows that Claire had been the most important thing in Mac’s life, a love not even his love for his work could reach, not by far, and Claire’s sudden death ripped a hole into him that no friendship in the world could fill, no matter how hard Stella tried. Sometimes, when she can’t sleep at night, she remembers how things had been before that horrible day when Claire had died and Mac had almost gone with her, if not physically, but mentally. These are the moments when her heart is heavy and she weeps about the never-ending sadness that lurks behind Mac’s mask of stoic professionalism.
“I stayed home and watched a movie,” Mac says casually. His hands move restlessly over his desk and smooth over a piece of paper. “It was … nice.” His lips twitch into the shadow of a smile when he thinks back about it.
Stella looks down on her own hands that are suddenly clenched together.
“Nobody should be alone on New Years Eve,” she says softly.
***
Mac has planned to do exactly that on New Years Eve. He wanted to stay home, watch a nice movie, work a little on some case files he had brought home and generally avoid all thoughts of the past and future, because, as much as he normally liked to plan and control his life, he knew perfectly well that thinking about it on this particular evening would bring him only pain. The past was painful enough in his every-day life, and the memories of Claire, who loved to celebrate New Years Eve with all of her friends and always managed to drag her mock-complaining, usually half-willing husband along to a party, no matter how much he pretended to disagree with her plans, to start the new year in each others arms, wrapped around each other as tight as they could in public without actually crawling into each other’s skin surrounded by happy, celebrating people, was too painful, even years later.
It was the same when thinking about the future. Thinking about the future meant to imagine all the things that could eventually happen, not only to him, but also to those who were close to him. Mac worried about them all the time. He was used to people telling him that he was only happy when he could worry and fuss over someone. Maybe they were right. He worried all the time, and the fact that those he loved most all worked in law-enforcement made it even harder for him to let go of it and relax.
A loud knock interrupted his plans. He checked his watch – it was 11.30 pm, nobody in their right mind would visit him right now – before warily opening the door to look into two grinning faces.
“I thought you had plans for tonight,” he said in greeting and stepped back to let them in.
“Oh, we have plans.” Danny reassured him and shrugged out of his heavy coat. “We want to celebrate.”
He pushed past Mac and threw his coat over the dark CSI – jacket Mac wore on crime scenes and that hung on its usual place on the wall besides the door while at the same time toeing off his shoes.
“With you,” Don added with a grin and handed Danny his own jacket.
Mac swallowed at the sight of them: both were dressed to go out, and they looked hot enough to melt ice and snow.
Somehow he managed to concentrate on something else than the suggestive way Danny’s shirt clung just the right way to his muscular chest, or how much Don’s blue shirt accented his wonderful, beautiful blue eyes just the right way, and shook his head slightly.
Mac was not in the mood for a crowd tonight, besides, he was dressed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt.
“No, you two go and have fun…” he said, but every reason he could have thought of disappeared, and he stopped mid-sentence when Don bowed down to take off his boots and gave him a nice view of his ass.
Danny’s eyes followed his, and he grinned wolfishly. “You’ve never asked us what our plans are,” he pointed out and pressed himself against Mac.
Danny pushed Mac back towards the bedroom. He gave the living room one short look, his trained eye taking in the running TV, the spread-out files on the small table, and he shook his head at the organized chaos, before concentrating back on Mac, pulling the t-shirt off his lover and carelessly dropping it to the floor. They always could clean up later.
“We were right, Don – he was working!” he called out over his shoulder before grinning at Mac and kissing him.
“What are you doing?” Mac finally managed to ask.
“Relax and trust us,” Danny murmured against his lips and kissed him again.
“You dressed up like this just to come here?” Mac asked from his place on the bed, where Danny had pushed him to take off his sweatpants.
Danny nodded and continued to unbutton his shirt. “We wanted to dress up for you,” he explained and shrugged off the garment. “It was Don’s idea. You deserve it.”
He crawled onto the mattress and towards Mac with a predatory gleam in his eye, and the play of strong muscles under his smooth skin reminded Mac suddenly of a big dangerous cat – the purring sound Danny made only added to that. Danny leaned over him and kissed him again, deep and wet and hot, and it distracted Mac for long enough until the world seemed to move in spirals around them, and Mac had forgotten everything else but Danny’s body over his and his mouth on his, and the throbbing of his hard cock.
Danny grinned and sat back up. “Relax,” he repeated. “Enjoy it.”
“That’s your plan for tonight?” Mac asked as soon as he could get air back into his lungs.
“Sure.” Danny shrugged and rolled them around until Mac was sitting between his spread legs and leaning against his chest, feeling all the heat and muscles and sweat-slicked skin that was Danny. “Didn’t you know that you’ll spend the year doing whatever it was you did when it started? Which reminds me…Don?”
Don entered the bedroom, wearing nothing but his shirt, and Mac suddenly had trouble breathing – again.
“You called?” Don grinned and placed the glasses he was carrying on the nightstand.
“Did you bring your cuffs?” Danny asked and grinned from one ear to the other.
Interest gleamed in Don’s eyes. “No, why?”
Danny’s hands circled Mac’s wrists and pulled them back slightly, and a shudder ran through all three of them.
“You want to tie him up?” Don asked and straddled Mac. He took his face between his hands and kissed him hungrily, swallowing Mac’s soft moan of need and desire.
“Just think of it,” Danny murmured while placing soft kisses all over Mac’s back. “He would look so hot…” Danny’s mouth curved into a wicked smile. “On the other side, I could tie up both of you – I’d be the luckiest man on the world!”
Don pulled away from Mac’s mouth and breathed heavily. “We could tie you up, as well,” he growled and leaned over Mac’s shoulder to kiss Danny, but before their lips met, Danny chuckled throatily.
“Not a chance in hell – it was my id…” Don’s lips muffle the rest of the statement.
Danny hadn’t released Mac’s wrists, so Mac did the only thing he could do without freeing himself: he put his mouth to Don’s chest and kissed and licked right through the silken fabric of his shirt.
He had no idea who of his two lovers made the broken sound that was a mixture of growl and moan, but he liked it, and he also liked the fact that Danny finally released his wrists and he could unbutton Don’s shirt, push it off his shoulders and trap his hands in the sleeves.
It surely brought the attention back to him.
Mac had no idea that it was so hard to free one man’s hands when said man was wriggling in his lap and another man’s fingers skimmed over his chest, while both men kissed every part of his body they could reach. But finally Don could wrap his arms around Mac’s neck and cling to him like an octopus.
“Damn,” Danny muttered softly and pulled back to wriggle out of his pants and retrieve the lube. “Don, move!” His finger poked Don between the ribs hard enough to distract him from Mac’s hands around his hips.
Don rolled his eyes, but he did as he was told before Danny could poke him again and spread out on his stomach next to them. Danny gave Mac the lube and grinned at the picture they made. “He’s all yours, Mac.”
Mac prepared Don shortly before rolling him on his side and slipping into his body – he hung onto his control only by his fingernails and teeth, and Danny’s hands on him, giving him the same cursory stretching he had given Don before entering him, didn’t help with that.
“Move,” Danny growled into his ear and bit down onto the tender flesh, and this time, Don certainly didn’t roll his eyes, but did what he was told without complaint and without hesitation, and Mac did just the same.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to plan things like this?” Danny asked, but neither Mac nor Don were interested right now, they were too focused on the feelings of skin on skin, of completeness, the age-old rhythm of pull and push, the taste, smell, sound, sight and feelings of the familiar bodies they were with, and Danny allowed himself to be drawn into this addictive mix and move with them and against them until it became too much and they tumbled, triggered by each other, over the edge of orgasm, into blissful heaven.
The TV was still running when Danny slipped out of bed to retrieve the bottle of champagne, and Don’s watch on the kitchen table told him that it was 1 am in the morning. He allowed himself to smile and bit back a soft curse when he tripped over Don’s pants on the kitchen floor and almost fell, but it couldn’t break his good mood. He went back to the bedroom and snuggled down with his two lovers.
“Happy New Year,” he murmured, first against Mac’s lips, then against Don’s shoulder, and it was the best New Year’s Eve he had in a very long time, and somehow he felt that he was not alone in this when both his lovers told him the same.
Mac grinned and touched his glass against Danny’s before taking a sip. “You want to tie me up?” he asked, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and Danny felt himself blush.
“Hmm,” Don murmured. “Hot.”
Mac looked at him, and Danny shrugged. “Why not?” he asked defensively.
Mac waited until Danny lifted his glass to his lips before saying: “Sure, why not?” and watching interestedly as Danny almost choked on his champagne while Don laughed so hard his face turned an interesting red shade of color not even Danny with his almost-choking managed.
***
“I mean it.” Stella sighs. “Nobody should be alone on New Year’s Eve.”
Mac allows his smile to stretch into a wide grin, from one ear to the other. He gathers his file together and stands up. He has a crime to solve, after all.
“Who said I was alone?” he asks casually before leaving his office and an open-mouthed Stella behind.
The End.
Author: Kathie
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: I don't own them…sad, isn’t it?
Summary: January 2: Stella asks Mac about New Years Eve…
Pairing: Mac/Don/Danny
Author's Notes: Feedback very much appreciated…
Fandom: CSI:NY
“Happy new year!” Stella says and sits down opposite Mac in his office. It’s the second of January, and they have a lot to do, so Mac lifts his eyebrow at her behavior. He expected her to be already off on a case, like the rest of his CSIs are.
Stella frowns. “How are you?” she asks carefully without waiting for him to answer the cheerful ‘happy new year’, and Mac knows perfectly well what she means.
He smiles at her concern, masked as it is, and takes his time to think before he answers slowly: “I’m fine…how was the party?”
Stella grins from one ear to the other, and it’s enough for Mac. They know each other for so long, he can read her like a crime scene, and he knows that Stella had a lot of fun on New Year’s Eve, and that she is happy with her life at the moment, and he is glad for her. Stella deserves happiness more than most of the people Mac knows.
“So – what did you do?” Stella wants to know, although she is relatively sure the answer is “work”. She remembers all too well the last year, when she went to the lab on New Years Eve because she had forgotten her necklace in her locker, and she found Mac in his office, buried in files and lab work – it is one of the images she remembers sometimes, when she thinks about lonely, sad people.
She has seen so much worse in her years as a cop, but this image touched her deeper than some of the most gruesome murders, and she isn’t sure why.
She’s relieved that in the past year, Mac started to live a little – he takes small steps towards his former self, very small steps, but they are steps nonetheless, and Stella could have squealed in delight, hugged him and kissed him, when he had accidentally let slip that he’s been on a date, because she was so happy for him. Stella knows that Claire had been the most important thing in Mac’s life, a love not even his love for his work could reach, not by far, and Claire’s sudden death ripped a hole into him that no friendship in the world could fill, no matter how hard Stella tried. Sometimes, when she can’t sleep at night, she remembers how things had been before that horrible day when Claire had died and Mac had almost gone with her, if not physically, but mentally. These are the moments when her heart is heavy and she weeps about the never-ending sadness that lurks behind Mac’s mask of stoic professionalism.
“I stayed home and watched a movie,” Mac says casually. His hands move restlessly over his desk and smooth over a piece of paper. “It was … nice.” His lips twitch into the shadow of a smile when he thinks back about it.
Stella looks down on her own hands that are suddenly clenched together.
“Nobody should be alone on New Years Eve,” she says softly.
***
Mac has planned to do exactly that on New Years Eve. He wanted to stay home, watch a nice movie, work a little on some case files he had brought home and generally avoid all thoughts of the past and future, because, as much as he normally liked to plan and control his life, he knew perfectly well that thinking about it on this particular evening would bring him only pain. The past was painful enough in his every-day life, and the memories of Claire, who loved to celebrate New Years Eve with all of her friends and always managed to drag her mock-complaining, usually half-willing husband along to a party, no matter how much he pretended to disagree with her plans, to start the new year in each others arms, wrapped around each other as tight as they could in public without actually crawling into each other’s skin surrounded by happy, celebrating people, was too painful, even years later.
It was the same when thinking about the future. Thinking about the future meant to imagine all the things that could eventually happen, not only to him, but also to those who were close to him. Mac worried about them all the time. He was used to people telling him that he was only happy when he could worry and fuss over someone. Maybe they were right. He worried all the time, and the fact that those he loved most all worked in law-enforcement made it even harder for him to let go of it and relax.
A loud knock interrupted his plans. He checked his watch – it was 11.30 pm, nobody in their right mind would visit him right now – before warily opening the door to look into two grinning faces.
“I thought you had plans for tonight,” he said in greeting and stepped back to let them in.
“Oh, we have plans.” Danny reassured him and shrugged out of his heavy coat. “We want to celebrate.”
He pushed past Mac and threw his coat over the dark CSI – jacket Mac wore on crime scenes and that hung on its usual place on the wall besides the door while at the same time toeing off his shoes.
“With you,” Don added with a grin and handed Danny his own jacket.
Mac swallowed at the sight of them: both were dressed to go out, and they looked hot enough to melt ice and snow.
Somehow he managed to concentrate on something else than the suggestive way Danny’s shirt clung just the right way to his muscular chest, or how much Don’s blue shirt accented his wonderful, beautiful blue eyes just the right way, and shook his head slightly.
Mac was not in the mood for a crowd tonight, besides, he was dressed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt.
“No, you two go and have fun…” he said, but every reason he could have thought of disappeared, and he stopped mid-sentence when Don bowed down to take off his boots and gave him a nice view of his ass.
Danny’s eyes followed his, and he grinned wolfishly. “You’ve never asked us what our plans are,” he pointed out and pressed himself against Mac.
Danny pushed Mac back towards the bedroom. He gave the living room one short look, his trained eye taking in the running TV, the spread-out files on the small table, and he shook his head at the organized chaos, before concentrating back on Mac, pulling the t-shirt off his lover and carelessly dropping it to the floor. They always could clean up later.
“We were right, Don – he was working!” he called out over his shoulder before grinning at Mac and kissing him.
“What are you doing?” Mac finally managed to ask.
“Relax and trust us,” Danny murmured against his lips and kissed him again.
“You dressed up like this just to come here?” Mac asked from his place on the bed, where Danny had pushed him to take off his sweatpants.
Danny nodded and continued to unbutton his shirt. “We wanted to dress up for you,” he explained and shrugged off the garment. “It was Don’s idea. You deserve it.”
He crawled onto the mattress and towards Mac with a predatory gleam in his eye, and the play of strong muscles under his smooth skin reminded Mac suddenly of a big dangerous cat – the purring sound Danny made only added to that. Danny leaned over him and kissed him again, deep and wet and hot, and it distracted Mac for long enough until the world seemed to move in spirals around them, and Mac had forgotten everything else but Danny’s body over his and his mouth on his, and the throbbing of his hard cock.
Danny grinned and sat back up. “Relax,” he repeated. “Enjoy it.”
“That’s your plan for tonight?” Mac asked as soon as he could get air back into his lungs.
“Sure.” Danny shrugged and rolled them around until Mac was sitting between his spread legs and leaning against his chest, feeling all the heat and muscles and sweat-slicked skin that was Danny. “Didn’t you know that you’ll spend the year doing whatever it was you did when it started? Which reminds me…Don?”
Don entered the bedroom, wearing nothing but his shirt, and Mac suddenly had trouble breathing – again.
“You called?” Don grinned and placed the glasses he was carrying on the nightstand.
“Did you bring your cuffs?” Danny asked and grinned from one ear to the other.
Interest gleamed in Don’s eyes. “No, why?”
Danny’s hands circled Mac’s wrists and pulled them back slightly, and a shudder ran through all three of them.
“You want to tie him up?” Don asked and straddled Mac. He took his face between his hands and kissed him hungrily, swallowing Mac’s soft moan of need and desire.
“Just think of it,” Danny murmured while placing soft kisses all over Mac’s back. “He would look so hot…” Danny’s mouth curved into a wicked smile. “On the other side, I could tie up both of you – I’d be the luckiest man on the world!”
Don pulled away from Mac’s mouth and breathed heavily. “We could tie you up, as well,” he growled and leaned over Mac’s shoulder to kiss Danny, but before their lips met, Danny chuckled throatily.
“Not a chance in hell – it was my id…” Don’s lips muffle the rest of the statement.
Danny hadn’t released Mac’s wrists, so Mac did the only thing he could do without freeing himself: he put his mouth to Don’s chest and kissed and licked right through the silken fabric of his shirt.
He had no idea who of his two lovers made the broken sound that was a mixture of growl and moan, but he liked it, and he also liked the fact that Danny finally released his wrists and he could unbutton Don’s shirt, push it off his shoulders and trap his hands in the sleeves.
It surely brought the attention back to him.
Mac had no idea that it was so hard to free one man’s hands when said man was wriggling in his lap and another man’s fingers skimmed over his chest, while both men kissed every part of his body they could reach. But finally Don could wrap his arms around Mac’s neck and cling to him like an octopus.
“Damn,” Danny muttered softly and pulled back to wriggle out of his pants and retrieve the lube. “Don, move!” His finger poked Don between the ribs hard enough to distract him from Mac’s hands around his hips.
Don rolled his eyes, but he did as he was told before Danny could poke him again and spread out on his stomach next to them. Danny gave Mac the lube and grinned at the picture they made. “He’s all yours, Mac.”
Mac prepared Don shortly before rolling him on his side and slipping into his body – he hung onto his control only by his fingernails and teeth, and Danny’s hands on him, giving him the same cursory stretching he had given Don before entering him, didn’t help with that.
“Move,” Danny growled into his ear and bit down onto the tender flesh, and this time, Don certainly didn’t roll his eyes, but did what he was told without complaint and without hesitation, and Mac did just the same.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to plan things like this?” Danny asked, but neither Mac nor Don were interested right now, they were too focused on the feelings of skin on skin, of completeness, the age-old rhythm of pull and push, the taste, smell, sound, sight and feelings of the familiar bodies they were with, and Danny allowed himself to be drawn into this addictive mix and move with them and against them until it became too much and they tumbled, triggered by each other, over the edge of orgasm, into blissful heaven.
The TV was still running when Danny slipped out of bed to retrieve the bottle of champagne, and Don’s watch on the kitchen table told him that it was 1 am in the morning. He allowed himself to smile and bit back a soft curse when he tripped over Don’s pants on the kitchen floor and almost fell, but it couldn’t break his good mood. He went back to the bedroom and snuggled down with his two lovers.
“Happy New Year,” he murmured, first against Mac’s lips, then against Don’s shoulder, and it was the best New Year’s Eve he had in a very long time, and somehow he felt that he was not alone in this when both his lovers told him the same.
Mac grinned and touched his glass against Danny’s before taking a sip. “You want to tie me up?” he asked, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and Danny felt himself blush.
“Hmm,” Don murmured. “Hot.”
Mac looked at him, and Danny shrugged. “Why not?” he asked defensively.
Mac waited until Danny lifted his glass to his lips before saying: “Sure, why not?” and watching interestedly as Danny almost choked on his champagne while Don laughed so hard his face turned an interesting red shade of color not even Danny with his almost-choking managed.
***
“I mean it.” Stella sighs. “Nobody should be alone on New Year’s Eve.”
Mac allows his smile to stretch into a wide grin, from one ear to the other. He gathers his file together and stands up. He has a crime to solve, after all.
“Who said I was alone?” he asks casually before leaving his office and an open-mouthed Stella behind.
The End.