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kathierif_ficTitle: The Light
Author: Kathie
Fandom: CSI:NY
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Danny Messer/Don Flack
Rating: FRT-13
Warnings: Threesome, slash
Word Count: 674
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were, never will be.
Summary: It’s been a rough day for Don.
Author’s Notes: Written for Threesome week, prompt: see the light (for Wednesday). Also written for the two usual suspects.
***
“This morning?” Don groaned and slowly sank into the couch next to Mac. “I thought I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.”
He toed off his shoes, leaving them in front of the couch, and stretched his long legs out, letting them rest on the coffee table, on top of a pile of books, forensic journals, and a case file. He narrowly missed Mac’s coffee cup, and Mac, who had already seen it pushed over and scattering on the floor, coffee seeping into the carpet, relaxed suddenly tense muscles and leaned forward to bring the cup to safety.
“This afternoon? I thought it was a train,” Don continued and loosened the tie around his neck. He opened the top buttons of his shirt and let his head fall against the back of the couch before looking at Mac.
“And now?” Mac asked and put his cup on the floor, next to him, before reaching out and brushing his knuckles softly over Don’s cheek.
“Now, I realize it’s just the bright spots I see from squeezing my eyes shut all day long,” Don answered darkly.
Mac chuckled. “All the melodrama,” he teased quietly. “You almost sound like Danny.”
Don shrugged with one shoulder and grimaced. “Maybe,” he admitted. “Where is he, anyways?”
“Bathroom,” Mac explained and shifted slightly. “He wanted to take a shower. He should be back soon.”
Don groaned quietly. “I think that train got me,” he admitted and shifted slightly. “Do trains have license plates?”
“I don’t think so,” Mac answered and pulled Don down for a soft kiss. “Why don’t you go and find comfortable clothes, and I’ll try to coerce Danny out of the bathroom so you can take a shower? Maybe that’ll make you feel better.”
Don nodded and slowly got up to his feet, almost falling over his shoes as he slowly went towards the bedroom. Mac shook his head slightly and picked them up, together with his cup. He didn’t want Don to hurt himself, after all.
On his way to the kitchen, he met Danny.
“Don okay?” Danny asked with a frown while rubbing a towel through his still wet hair. “He looks like a zombie.”
Mac snorted. “I’m sure he feels even worse,” he answered. “Didn’t you hear it? Suspect tried to strangle him this afternoon.”
“What?” Danny asked. “What do you mean, tried to strangle him?”
Mac shrugged and put his cup in the sink. “Lindsay and him went to pick up a suspect, and the guy figured that, instead of running, he’d be better off attacking Don, wrapping both hands around his throat and squeezing. Lindsay couldn’t do anything but watch until Don managed to free himself.” He chuckled darkly. “She shot him in the shoulder and hip to stop him from running after that.”
Danny laughed. “Will he be okay?” he then asked quietly.
Mac nodded. “Sheldon said so.”
They moved back to the living room, Danny to watch something on TV and Mac to pick up his case file. It was normal, it was routine – it was calming, and when Don finally came back to join them, dressed in comfortable track pants and a t-shirt, he only sighed before sitting down between them.
“Feel better?” Mac asked.
“A bit,” Don admitted and stretched out, his legs over Danny’s lap and his head on Mac’s.
Danny settled his hand on Don’s leg and squeezed gently, but he didn’t say anything until Mac gently pulled the collar of Don’s shirt down to expose dark, angry looking bruises.
“Fuck,” he then muttered. “You okay, Don?”
“Yeah,” Don muttered and shifted slightly without managing to get comfortable. “Still keeping my eyes closed, though.”
Danny frowned in confusion, but Mac chuckled and bent down, brushing his hand through Don’s hair.
“You can open them,” he promised. “We’ll warn you now if a train comes.”
“Promise?” Don asked tiredly.
“Promise,” Mac whispered, and Danny, despite still not really understanding what they were talking about, squeezed his leg again.
“Good,” Don muttered and finally relaxed.
End.
Author: Kathie
Fandom: CSI:NY
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Danny Messer/Don Flack
Rating: FRT-13
Warnings: Threesome, slash
Word Count: 674
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were, never will be.
Summary: It’s been a rough day for Don.
Author’s Notes: Written for Threesome week, prompt: see the light (for Wednesday). Also written for the two usual suspects.
***
“This morning?” Don groaned and slowly sank into the couch next to Mac. “I thought I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.”
He toed off his shoes, leaving them in front of the couch, and stretched his long legs out, letting them rest on the coffee table, on top of a pile of books, forensic journals, and a case file. He narrowly missed Mac’s coffee cup, and Mac, who had already seen it pushed over and scattering on the floor, coffee seeping into the carpet, relaxed suddenly tense muscles and leaned forward to bring the cup to safety.
“This afternoon? I thought it was a train,” Don continued and loosened the tie around his neck. He opened the top buttons of his shirt and let his head fall against the back of the couch before looking at Mac.
“And now?” Mac asked and put his cup on the floor, next to him, before reaching out and brushing his knuckles softly over Don’s cheek.
“Now, I realize it’s just the bright spots I see from squeezing my eyes shut all day long,” Don answered darkly.
Mac chuckled. “All the melodrama,” he teased quietly. “You almost sound like Danny.”
Don shrugged with one shoulder and grimaced. “Maybe,” he admitted. “Where is he, anyways?”
“Bathroom,” Mac explained and shifted slightly. “He wanted to take a shower. He should be back soon.”
Don groaned quietly. “I think that train got me,” he admitted and shifted slightly. “Do trains have license plates?”
“I don’t think so,” Mac answered and pulled Don down for a soft kiss. “Why don’t you go and find comfortable clothes, and I’ll try to coerce Danny out of the bathroom so you can take a shower? Maybe that’ll make you feel better.”
Don nodded and slowly got up to his feet, almost falling over his shoes as he slowly went towards the bedroom. Mac shook his head slightly and picked them up, together with his cup. He didn’t want Don to hurt himself, after all.
On his way to the kitchen, he met Danny.
“Don okay?” Danny asked with a frown while rubbing a towel through his still wet hair. “He looks like a zombie.”
Mac snorted. “I’m sure he feels even worse,” he answered. “Didn’t you hear it? Suspect tried to strangle him this afternoon.”
“What?” Danny asked. “What do you mean, tried to strangle him?”
Mac shrugged and put his cup in the sink. “Lindsay and him went to pick up a suspect, and the guy figured that, instead of running, he’d be better off attacking Don, wrapping both hands around his throat and squeezing. Lindsay couldn’t do anything but watch until Don managed to free himself.” He chuckled darkly. “She shot him in the shoulder and hip to stop him from running after that.”
Danny laughed. “Will he be okay?” he then asked quietly.
Mac nodded. “Sheldon said so.”
They moved back to the living room, Danny to watch something on TV and Mac to pick up his case file. It was normal, it was routine – it was calming, and when Don finally came back to join them, dressed in comfortable track pants and a t-shirt, he only sighed before sitting down between them.
“Feel better?” Mac asked.
“A bit,” Don admitted and stretched out, his legs over Danny’s lap and his head on Mac’s.
Danny settled his hand on Don’s leg and squeezed gently, but he didn’t say anything until Mac gently pulled the collar of Don’s shirt down to expose dark, angry looking bruises.
“Fuck,” he then muttered. “You okay, Don?”
“Yeah,” Don muttered and shifted slightly without managing to get comfortable. “Still keeping my eyes closed, though.”
Danny frowned in confusion, but Mac chuckled and bent down, brushing his hand through Don’s hair.
“You can open them,” he promised. “We’ll warn you now if a train comes.”
“Promise?” Don asked tiredly.
“Promise,” Mac whispered, and Danny, despite still not really understanding what they were talking about, squeezed his leg again.
“Good,” Don muttered and finally relaxed.
End.