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kathierif_ficTitle: All The Things You've Seen
Author:kathierif_fic
Fandom: CSI:NY
Pairing/character: Danny Messer/Don Flack
Rating: FRAO
Prompt: yeah, yeah, you’re a real tough guy (prompted bytres_mechante)
Kink: rough sex
Notes/Warnings: Spoilers for CSI:NY season 6, slash. I'm pretty sure I took the title from a song, but I can't remember which one it was...
Disclaimer: Not mine, no matter how much I wish for it.
Summary: By the time Danny could do more than twitch his toes, Don had managed to convince everyone that he was fine and that he had put Jess’ death and everything connected with it behind him...but Danny sees behind the mask and decides to do something about it.
Word count: 3283 words
By the time Danny could do more than twitch his toes, Don had managed to convince everyone that he was fine and that he had put Jess’ death and everything connected with it behind him. He’d managed to hide behind a mask of stoicism and sarcasm that seemed impenetrable.
He had been through a lot. Everybody understood that it changed a man – he was still working homicide, and he was seeing unspeakable things every day he put on one of his suits and went to work. If his sarcasm had become sharper than it once had been people just shrugged it off and blamed his line of work for it. They just left him alone and kept their distance when he lashed out again, with hurtful words, and if he was honest, it suited Don just fine. He didn’t want their sympathy, and he didn’t want anyone to get close to him. If there was one thing that Jess’ death had told him, it was that it would only hurt him if people got too close and something happened to them, which, considering their line of work, was highly probable.
He might have just a high school diploma, but even he knew these odds weren’t in his favor.
No, it was okay that everybody pulled back from him and left him alone.
He had accepted the occasional pang of loneliness as the downside, but it still wasn’t enough to make him rethink his decision to isolate himself from his coworkers and friends.
He hadn’t expected to be ambushed in front of his own apartment, a strong body pushing him into his own door and pinning him there, his arms twisted painfully behind his back and his wrists quickly enclosed by cold, unforgiving steel.
“What the…” he grunted and twisted his head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of his attacker – dirty blond, short hair sticking up wildly, the shadow of five o’clock stubble.
A familiar face.
“Messer, what the hell, let me go,” he hissed while trying to hook his leg around Danny’s, to make him stumble and fall. He had known, of course, that Danny was better, that he’d regained the ability to use his legs, but he hadn’t known how much better Danny was.
Danny anticipated his move and quickly stepped out of Don’s range before slamming him into the wall again, making the taller man see stars and the breath rattle in his lungs.
Danny took advantage of his dazed confusion. His fingers wormed themselves into the front pocket of his jeans, to pull out his keys, while one hand remained on Don’s cuffed wrists, steadying him and preventing him from pulling away.
He unlocked the door and gave Don a gentle shove. Don glared at him, but he followed the unspoken order and stepped into his own apartment.
“You ready to listen to me?” Danny asked and tossed the keys on the table, in between empty take-out boxes and equally empty bottles.
“Why should I listen to you?” Don asked back. “Take these off!”
Danny started to reply, but he stopped himself and shook his head. “Will you talk to me if I do?” he wanted to know.
“What about?” Don asked and turned his back to Danny, offering his wrists and curling his fingers into loose fists.
“You going all Mac on us,” Danny replied. He hesitated, but then he took a step closer and undid the cuffs. He’d only tried to get Don’s attention with the move, after all, and it seemed like he’d been successful with that. If he didn’t comply now, he knew that Don would only get stubborn and not listen to a single thing he had to say. He’d already made it into Flack’s apartment, which was a step further than most of those that considered themselves Don’s friends had gotten, including Stella.
“Messer, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Don said coolly and massaged his wrists.
Don looked around. Under normal circumstances, he knew, Don wouldn’t have dirty laundry lying around his place. He wouldn’t leave the empty take-out boxes and bottles on the table. He would throw them away. He would keep his place clean.
The evidence he was facing right now was conclusive.
He probably was lucky that Flack hadn’t hit him and kicked him out as soon as he was out of the cuffs.
“I think you do,” he said and took a few steps closer to his friend. “When was the last time you cleaned up here, Don? Hell, when was the last time you slept?”
The reply was as quick as expected, and just as acidly. “That’s none of your damn business,” Don snapped, his eyes blazing with anger. “You have enough to worry about, don’t you, with Lindsay all over you for lying to her.”
Ouch. Danny flinched slightly, but he didn’t back off. “Linds and I have an understanding,” he said stiffly. “She has nothin’ to do with this.”
“This?” Don scoffed. “There is no this, Messer. Go home to your kid.” He clenched his teeth. “To your wife.”
Danny shook his head stubbornly. “No.”
Don tilted his head to the side challengingly. “Does she even know you’re here?” he wanted to know. “Or did you keep that from her, too?”
Another blow. Danny took a deep breath. If he lost his temper now, he knew he would lose the best friend he’d ever had. The one and only guy who had stuck with him through thick and thin and all the bad times.
Tanglewood.
Minhas.
Louie.
Maybe, he thought, it was time to repay the favor.
“She knows I’m here,” he finally said, his voice calm. He didn’t add that Lindsay was Don’s friend, too, and that she was as worried about him as everybody else was.
Don ran a hand through his hair. Dirt clung under his nails, and he needed a haircut, Danny noticed absent-mindedly, but he didn’t voice his thoughts.
“So?” Don asked. “What do you want?”
“I want…” Danny hesitated briefly. “I want to know that you’re okay.”
Don rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “You’ve been here; I’m fine, go home.”
Maybe Danny was mistaken, but he thought he detected a hint of something in Don’s voice that could be resignation – or exhaustion.
“Don,” he said softly. “You’re not fine. Look at yourself.”
Don stared at him instead, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Dark shadows circled bloodshot, reddened eyes, and Danny knew that Don was preparing for another lash with his acerbic tongue, one that would hurt even more than the ones before, and he acted on instinct as he took another step toward Don, leaned against him to keep his balance as he stood on tiptoes and firmly pressed their mouths together.
For a moment, it worked; or maybe he’d just shocked Don into inactivity, but as soon as he pulled back, Don managed to get back to his senses, as well.
“What was that?” he asked, and before Danny could respond, he snorted dismissively. “You’re a real tough guy, Mess,” he said, sarcasm dripping off of every syllable. “You think cuddle therapy will help you? I told you I’m fine.”
“And I told you I don’t cuddle,” Danny replied, his voice sharper than he had intended. His lips still tingled where they’d been pressed against Don’s. His shoulders slumped for a second. “But, if cuddling would get me my old friend back, I would do it.”
He would, if he thought it would help him any, but he also knew that Don was too stubborn, too thickheaded and too tense to let anyone close enough for that. The kiss had made him shut up for a moment though, Danny thought while watching Don wipe the back of his hand over his mouth. Maybe that was the opening he needed.
Twisting his lips into a humorless smirk, he took a half-second to be thankful that he’d opted for his contacts instead for his glasses that morning. He didn’t want his glasses smashed into his face by an angry Don Flack, and Don would be very angry if he was mistaken here and his plan backfired on him.
“What are you grinning about?” Don asked and wiped his hand over his mouth again, as if he wanted to get rid of the memory of the kiss they’d just shared.
“Nothin’,” Danny replied before striking.
One hand tangled in the hair at the back of Don’s skull, the other one clenched in his shoulder. Their lips crashed together with more force than Danny had expected, and the metallic tang of blood filled his mouth.
It didn’t stop him.
He felt Don’s hand pulling at his shirt and opened his mouth, to force his tongue between Don’s lips. Pain raced along his nerve endings as Don bit down, and Danny grunted and tugged Don’s bottom lip between his own teeth, to return the favor.
He yanked Don’s head down when Don pulled back, into another series of biting kisses, while letting his other hand roam over his chest and stomach, toward his groin, squeezing once he’d reached his destination. Don growled, deep in his throat, and pushed his own tongue into Danny’s mouth. Fabric ripped as he clenched his own hands in Danny’s shirt, and Danny pulled back with a growl, his fingers tugging Don’s shirt up impatiently while shoving Don back, in the direction of the bedroom.
The bed they finally fell on was unmade, but Danny didn’t care. He was still busy getting Don out of his shirt, the task made more complicated by more biting kisses and Don’s hands on his own chest, pinching Danny’s nipples and trying to pull Danny’s shirt up and off.
“Off,” Danny finally gasped and sat back, to bring his chest out of Don’s reach. “Get that damn shirt off.”
He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, not surprised by the red smears left behind on his skin, and moved down, to unbutton and unzip Don’s jeans while Don stripped off his shirt. His fingers brushed against Don’s dick, and he shoved down the pants, leaving them tangled around Don’s knees.
Don hissed, and Danny bent down to nip at his side warningly. He felt the texture of scar tissue against his lips, his cheek, and he took a second to run his tongue over them.
Don’s hands in his hair quickly brought his attention back to the task at hand, and Danny pulled his head back, and out of Don’s grasp, not caring about the small pinpoints of pain and the few strands of hair remaining in between Don’s fingers.
He grabbed Don’s wrists and pressed them down, into the mattress, above Don’s head. He leaned down, pinning Don, who was still squirming, with his weight.
“Stop that,” he growled. “Unless you want me to get those cuffs again.”
Don’s body froze almost immediately, and Danny bit down on a nipple.
“No…no cuffs,” Don said, his voice rough and almost pleasing. “Not here. Jess…” He stopped and turned his head away, biting his lip.
Danny brushed his fingertips over the nervous flutter of pulse in Don’s wrists. “You want this?” he asked softly. “Don? Or do you want me to stop?”
Don shook his head wordlessly, not fighting anymore, but Danny knew better than trusting his suddenly docile behavior. Don was cunning, smart, and sneaky, and he would turn the tables on Danny as soon as he could, unless he actually gave in and asked Danny to fuck him.
“I need to hear you sayin’ it, Donnie,” he said firmly.
Don’s throat worked as he struggled with the words. He hadn’t wanted this, he thought desperately, he hadn’t wanted Danny to get that close, under his defenses and so close, and here he was, glaring stubbornly at him and pressing him down, and Don found himself giving in, almost despite his own determination. But this was Danny – Danny was special. Apparently.
“Dan,” he finally managed, “please.”
“Please what?” Danny asked and leaned a little more of his weight on Don’s wrists.
For a long moment, Don was silent, and a horrible discomfort settled on Danny, pushing aside the arousal he’d felt with an almost naked man squirming between his legs.
Finally, Don swallowed. “Fuck me,” he said, his voice almost inaudible. “Danny…”
The arousal slowly returned, and Danny grinned while leaning down and kissing Don roughly.
“Roll over,” he murmured against Don’s lips, as swollen as his own. “Get on your knees.”
He pulled back and released Don’s wrists from his grip, in order to get rid of his own pants and to collect the tube of lube from the drawer next to Don’s bed, where he knew it would be. This was Don, after all. Danny knew him like his own brother – he knew him even better than his own brother.
Still, it had been a very long time since they’d done anything like this, Danny thought while popping the almost empty bottle open and squeezing some of the lube into his palm.
Before Lindsay.
He pushed the thought of his wife, at home with his little daughter, for heaven’s sake, out of his mind and concentrated back on Don, who had rolled over and had pulled himself up on hands and knees.
Don needed him right now. Don had been there for him every time Danny had needed him. He couldn’t chicken out now.
His dick gave an appreciating twitch, and Danny ran his slick hand over his own length before kneeling down behind Don.
Don’s pants were still tangled around his knees, he realized, and he was also still wearing his boots – unlike Danny, who had toed off his sneakers when he’d pulled off his own jeans.
He wouldn’t stop now to get the other man completely naked, he decided. It wasn’t what Don needed and wanted – what they both needed and wanted.
His mouth brushed over the firm muscle of an ass cheek, to the small of Don’s back, where he bit down and sucked, bringing the blood up to the pale skin while at the same time, he pulled Don’s briefs down to mid-thigh and pushed one of his slickened fingers into Don. Don’s muscles twitched, and Danny quickly added a second finger, not waiting for Don to get used to the sensation. His chest ached where Don had pinched his nipples, and he growled as he quickly stretched Don, making sure that he would be ready for Danny’s dick.
Don groaned, a bitten-off, rough sound that made Danny stop, almost despite himself, and run his hand soothingly up Don’s spine.
The moment quickly passed, and Danny kneeled up and removed his fingers when Don shoved himself back against him, indicating that he was ready.
Gripping Don’s hip with one hand, he ran the other one over his own dick again, before guiding it to the other man’s opening.
“That all you got?” Don teased and turned his head, to smirk at Danny.
Danny didn’t wait for the next comment and thrust into him, in one long stroke, and Don let his head fall and hang down while he struggled to breathe through the sudden intrusion.
Danny clenched his teeth and gripped Don’s hips tightly, to stop himself from coming on the spot. Don was tight and hot around him, clenching around his dick and adding to the stimulation.
“Been a while, huh?” he asked while bucking his hips experimentally.
Don hissed. “Since…” he started, “since your last time, Mess.”
He hadn’t meant to reveal it, but the words just poured out, and Don bit his tongue sharply, both to stop himself from saying anything else and to distract him from the stretch and burn of Danny in him.
Danny swallowed. “You want me to slow down?” he asked, his voice rough. Don was so tight around him, so tight and hot, even more than…
Quickly, he forced his thoughts back to the present and away from where they had threatened to go. He would deal with that later. Right now, he was here to help Don.
Don laughed breathlessly. “You’re askin’ me now?” he gasped and shifted slightly.
“You weren’t exactly listening earlier,” Danny defended himself. “Now what? Stop? Or not?”
“Not.” The decision didn’t require Don to think about it. He would hurt Danny if he stopped now.
“Slow or rough?” Danny asked and pressed his forehead to Don’s sweaty back.
“Give it to me, Messer,” Don challenged and flexed under him again.
Danny could tell that he was still trying to get used to the feeling of Danny in him, and he chuckled slightly.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “you’re a real tough guy.”
It was the same thing Don had said to him earlier, he thought while letting his hips set a pace that would get him to his climax quickly, and just like Don, he had added a heavy tint of sarcasm to them.
He knew Don Flack, after all. He knew how much he was not a tough guy.
His hand sneaked down, between Don’s legs, and he didn’t waste any time and gripped his dick, coaxing it into hardness and stroking it with the same almost punishing rhythm his hips had set.
Don groaned again, but he was pushing his hips back, demanding more, even if he remained mostly silent – not that Danny would have understood any of his words over the rush of blood in his own ears as his own orgasm approached him with the force of a tornado.
His teeth closed against the skin of Don’s back when his hips finally came to a stuttering halt, and the deep groan and the wetness covering his hand told him that Don had come, too, and he pulled back way more carefully than he’d been throughout their little encounter.
Sweat was covering both of them, and belatedly, Danny realized that his legs were shaking. He’d overdone it, he thought grimly. He wasn’t at a hundred percent yet, the muscles in his legs weak even if he was able to walk again, but this – coming to Don’s place, lurking in the hallways until Don came home, and surprising him – had been the right thing to do. If he’d waited any longer, he probably wouldn’t have been able to get through to Don like this.
He stretched out alongside Don and gave him a soft smile while reaching out to brush just the tips of his fingers against the scars on Don’s stomach, leaving traces of lube and semen on his skin.
“You ready to talk about stuff now?” he asked softly.
Exhausted blue eyes slowly blinked open. “Not really,” Don murmured, making a half-hearted attempt to push off his boots and jeans and pull the sheets over both of them.
Danny tossed an arm over him and pulled him close. Don didn’t fight it – maybe, Danny thought hopefully, he’d managed to get through all of Don’s defenses, and he would get his best friend back instead of the asshole looking like him.
“Next time,” he muttered, his lips pressed against Don’s back, “talk to me, man. If you pull a Mac again, we’ll send up the real Mac to straighten you out.”
Don chuckled weakly. “What makes you think Mac hadn’t been here?” he teased, his words slurred together with tiredness.
Danny kissed his shoulder again. “Next time, we’ll just tell him to fuck you through the mattress,” he murmured.
Don laughed softly and pressed himself gently against Danny, already dozing off, and maybe, Danny thought while holding him close, he could make an exception to his no cuddling rule.
For Don.
Once.
~end.
Author:
kathierif_ficFandom: CSI:NY
Pairing/character: Danny Messer/Don Flack
Rating: FRAO
Prompt: yeah, yeah, you’re a real tough guy (prompted by
tres_mechante)Kink: rough sex
Notes/Warnings: Spoilers for CSI:NY season 6, slash. I'm pretty sure I took the title from a song, but I can't remember which one it was...
Disclaimer: Not mine, no matter how much I wish for it.
Summary: By the time Danny could do more than twitch his toes, Don had managed to convince everyone that he was fine and that he had put Jess’ death and everything connected with it behind him...but Danny sees behind the mask and decides to do something about it.
Word count: 3283 words
By the time Danny could do more than twitch his toes, Don had managed to convince everyone that he was fine and that he had put Jess’ death and everything connected with it behind him. He’d managed to hide behind a mask of stoicism and sarcasm that seemed impenetrable.
He had been through a lot. Everybody understood that it changed a man – he was still working homicide, and he was seeing unspeakable things every day he put on one of his suits and went to work. If his sarcasm had become sharper than it once had been people just shrugged it off and blamed his line of work for it. They just left him alone and kept their distance when he lashed out again, with hurtful words, and if he was honest, it suited Don just fine. He didn’t want their sympathy, and he didn’t want anyone to get close to him. If there was one thing that Jess’ death had told him, it was that it would only hurt him if people got too close and something happened to them, which, considering their line of work, was highly probable.
He might have just a high school diploma, but even he knew these odds weren’t in his favor.
No, it was okay that everybody pulled back from him and left him alone.
He had accepted the occasional pang of loneliness as the downside, but it still wasn’t enough to make him rethink his decision to isolate himself from his coworkers and friends.
He hadn’t expected to be ambushed in front of his own apartment, a strong body pushing him into his own door and pinning him there, his arms twisted painfully behind his back and his wrists quickly enclosed by cold, unforgiving steel.
“What the…” he grunted and twisted his head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of his attacker – dirty blond, short hair sticking up wildly, the shadow of five o’clock stubble.
A familiar face.
“Messer, what the hell, let me go,” he hissed while trying to hook his leg around Danny’s, to make him stumble and fall. He had known, of course, that Danny was better, that he’d regained the ability to use his legs, but he hadn’t known how much better Danny was.
Danny anticipated his move and quickly stepped out of Don’s range before slamming him into the wall again, making the taller man see stars and the breath rattle in his lungs.
Danny took advantage of his dazed confusion. His fingers wormed themselves into the front pocket of his jeans, to pull out his keys, while one hand remained on Don’s cuffed wrists, steadying him and preventing him from pulling away.
He unlocked the door and gave Don a gentle shove. Don glared at him, but he followed the unspoken order and stepped into his own apartment.
“You ready to listen to me?” Danny asked and tossed the keys on the table, in between empty take-out boxes and equally empty bottles.
“Why should I listen to you?” Don asked back. “Take these off!”
Danny started to reply, but he stopped himself and shook his head. “Will you talk to me if I do?” he wanted to know.
“What about?” Don asked and turned his back to Danny, offering his wrists and curling his fingers into loose fists.
“You going all Mac on us,” Danny replied. He hesitated, but then he took a step closer and undid the cuffs. He’d only tried to get Don’s attention with the move, after all, and it seemed like he’d been successful with that. If he didn’t comply now, he knew that Don would only get stubborn and not listen to a single thing he had to say. He’d already made it into Flack’s apartment, which was a step further than most of those that considered themselves Don’s friends had gotten, including Stella.
“Messer, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Don said coolly and massaged his wrists.
Don looked around. Under normal circumstances, he knew, Don wouldn’t have dirty laundry lying around his place. He wouldn’t leave the empty take-out boxes and bottles on the table. He would throw them away. He would keep his place clean.
The evidence he was facing right now was conclusive.
He probably was lucky that Flack hadn’t hit him and kicked him out as soon as he was out of the cuffs.
“I think you do,” he said and took a few steps closer to his friend. “When was the last time you cleaned up here, Don? Hell, when was the last time you slept?”
The reply was as quick as expected, and just as acidly. “That’s none of your damn business,” Don snapped, his eyes blazing with anger. “You have enough to worry about, don’t you, with Lindsay all over you for lying to her.”
Ouch. Danny flinched slightly, but he didn’t back off. “Linds and I have an understanding,” he said stiffly. “She has nothin’ to do with this.”
“This?” Don scoffed. “There is no this, Messer. Go home to your kid.” He clenched his teeth. “To your wife.”
Danny shook his head stubbornly. “No.”
Don tilted his head to the side challengingly. “Does she even know you’re here?” he wanted to know. “Or did you keep that from her, too?”
Another blow. Danny took a deep breath. If he lost his temper now, he knew he would lose the best friend he’d ever had. The one and only guy who had stuck with him through thick and thin and all the bad times.
Tanglewood.
Minhas.
Louie.
Maybe, he thought, it was time to repay the favor.
“She knows I’m here,” he finally said, his voice calm. He didn’t add that Lindsay was Don’s friend, too, and that she was as worried about him as everybody else was.
Don ran a hand through his hair. Dirt clung under his nails, and he needed a haircut, Danny noticed absent-mindedly, but he didn’t voice his thoughts.
“So?” Don asked. “What do you want?”
“I want…” Danny hesitated briefly. “I want to know that you’re okay.”
Don rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “You’ve been here; I’m fine, go home.”
Maybe Danny was mistaken, but he thought he detected a hint of something in Don’s voice that could be resignation – or exhaustion.
“Don,” he said softly. “You’re not fine. Look at yourself.”
Don stared at him instead, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Dark shadows circled bloodshot, reddened eyes, and Danny knew that Don was preparing for another lash with his acerbic tongue, one that would hurt even more than the ones before, and he acted on instinct as he took another step toward Don, leaned against him to keep his balance as he stood on tiptoes and firmly pressed their mouths together.
For a moment, it worked; or maybe he’d just shocked Don into inactivity, but as soon as he pulled back, Don managed to get back to his senses, as well.
“What was that?” he asked, and before Danny could respond, he snorted dismissively. “You’re a real tough guy, Mess,” he said, sarcasm dripping off of every syllable. “You think cuddle therapy will help you? I told you I’m fine.”
“And I told you I don’t cuddle,” Danny replied, his voice sharper than he had intended. His lips still tingled where they’d been pressed against Don’s. His shoulders slumped for a second. “But, if cuddling would get me my old friend back, I would do it.”
He would, if he thought it would help him any, but he also knew that Don was too stubborn, too thickheaded and too tense to let anyone close enough for that. The kiss had made him shut up for a moment though, Danny thought while watching Don wipe the back of his hand over his mouth. Maybe that was the opening he needed.
Twisting his lips into a humorless smirk, he took a half-second to be thankful that he’d opted for his contacts instead for his glasses that morning. He didn’t want his glasses smashed into his face by an angry Don Flack, and Don would be very angry if he was mistaken here and his plan backfired on him.
“What are you grinning about?” Don asked and wiped his hand over his mouth again, as if he wanted to get rid of the memory of the kiss they’d just shared.
“Nothin’,” Danny replied before striking.
One hand tangled in the hair at the back of Don’s skull, the other one clenched in his shoulder. Their lips crashed together with more force than Danny had expected, and the metallic tang of blood filled his mouth.
It didn’t stop him.
He felt Don’s hand pulling at his shirt and opened his mouth, to force his tongue between Don’s lips. Pain raced along his nerve endings as Don bit down, and Danny grunted and tugged Don’s bottom lip between his own teeth, to return the favor.
He yanked Don’s head down when Don pulled back, into another series of biting kisses, while letting his other hand roam over his chest and stomach, toward his groin, squeezing once he’d reached his destination. Don growled, deep in his throat, and pushed his own tongue into Danny’s mouth. Fabric ripped as he clenched his own hands in Danny’s shirt, and Danny pulled back with a growl, his fingers tugging Don’s shirt up impatiently while shoving Don back, in the direction of the bedroom.
The bed they finally fell on was unmade, but Danny didn’t care. He was still busy getting Don out of his shirt, the task made more complicated by more biting kisses and Don’s hands on his own chest, pinching Danny’s nipples and trying to pull Danny’s shirt up and off.
“Off,” Danny finally gasped and sat back, to bring his chest out of Don’s reach. “Get that damn shirt off.”
He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, not surprised by the red smears left behind on his skin, and moved down, to unbutton and unzip Don’s jeans while Don stripped off his shirt. His fingers brushed against Don’s dick, and he shoved down the pants, leaving them tangled around Don’s knees.
Don hissed, and Danny bent down to nip at his side warningly. He felt the texture of scar tissue against his lips, his cheek, and he took a second to run his tongue over them.
Don’s hands in his hair quickly brought his attention back to the task at hand, and Danny pulled his head back, and out of Don’s grasp, not caring about the small pinpoints of pain and the few strands of hair remaining in between Don’s fingers.
He grabbed Don’s wrists and pressed them down, into the mattress, above Don’s head. He leaned down, pinning Don, who was still squirming, with his weight.
“Stop that,” he growled. “Unless you want me to get those cuffs again.”
Don’s body froze almost immediately, and Danny bit down on a nipple.
“No…no cuffs,” Don said, his voice rough and almost pleasing. “Not here. Jess…” He stopped and turned his head away, biting his lip.
Danny brushed his fingertips over the nervous flutter of pulse in Don’s wrists. “You want this?” he asked softly. “Don? Or do you want me to stop?”
Don shook his head wordlessly, not fighting anymore, but Danny knew better than trusting his suddenly docile behavior. Don was cunning, smart, and sneaky, and he would turn the tables on Danny as soon as he could, unless he actually gave in and asked Danny to fuck him.
“I need to hear you sayin’ it, Donnie,” he said firmly.
Don’s throat worked as he struggled with the words. He hadn’t wanted this, he thought desperately, he hadn’t wanted Danny to get that close, under his defenses and so close, and here he was, glaring stubbornly at him and pressing him down, and Don found himself giving in, almost despite his own determination. But this was Danny – Danny was special. Apparently.
“Dan,” he finally managed, “please.”
“Please what?” Danny asked and leaned a little more of his weight on Don’s wrists.
For a long moment, Don was silent, and a horrible discomfort settled on Danny, pushing aside the arousal he’d felt with an almost naked man squirming between his legs.
Finally, Don swallowed. “Fuck me,” he said, his voice almost inaudible. “Danny…”
The arousal slowly returned, and Danny grinned while leaning down and kissing Don roughly.
“Roll over,” he murmured against Don’s lips, as swollen as his own. “Get on your knees.”
He pulled back and released Don’s wrists from his grip, in order to get rid of his own pants and to collect the tube of lube from the drawer next to Don’s bed, where he knew it would be. This was Don, after all. Danny knew him like his own brother – he knew him even better than his own brother.
Still, it had been a very long time since they’d done anything like this, Danny thought while popping the almost empty bottle open and squeezing some of the lube into his palm.
Before Lindsay.
He pushed the thought of his wife, at home with his little daughter, for heaven’s sake, out of his mind and concentrated back on Don, who had rolled over and had pulled himself up on hands and knees.
Don needed him right now. Don had been there for him every time Danny had needed him. He couldn’t chicken out now.
His dick gave an appreciating twitch, and Danny ran his slick hand over his own length before kneeling down behind Don.
Don’s pants were still tangled around his knees, he realized, and he was also still wearing his boots – unlike Danny, who had toed off his sneakers when he’d pulled off his own jeans.
He wouldn’t stop now to get the other man completely naked, he decided. It wasn’t what Don needed and wanted – what they both needed and wanted.
His mouth brushed over the firm muscle of an ass cheek, to the small of Don’s back, where he bit down and sucked, bringing the blood up to the pale skin while at the same time, he pulled Don’s briefs down to mid-thigh and pushed one of his slickened fingers into Don. Don’s muscles twitched, and Danny quickly added a second finger, not waiting for Don to get used to the sensation. His chest ached where Don had pinched his nipples, and he growled as he quickly stretched Don, making sure that he would be ready for Danny’s dick.
Don groaned, a bitten-off, rough sound that made Danny stop, almost despite himself, and run his hand soothingly up Don’s spine.
The moment quickly passed, and Danny kneeled up and removed his fingers when Don shoved himself back against him, indicating that he was ready.
Gripping Don’s hip with one hand, he ran the other one over his own dick again, before guiding it to the other man’s opening.
“That all you got?” Don teased and turned his head, to smirk at Danny.
Danny didn’t wait for the next comment and thrust into him, in one long stroke, and Don let his head fall and hang down while he struggled to breathe through the sudden intrusion.
Danny clenched his teeth and gripped Don’s hips tightly, to stop himself from coming on the spot. Don was tight and hot around him, clenching around his dick and adding to the stimulation.
“Been a while, huh?” he asked while bucking his hips experimentally.
Don hissed. “Since…” he started, “since your last time, Mess.”
He hadn’t meant to reveal it, but the words just poured out, and Don bit his tongue sharply, both to stop himself from saying anything else and to distract him from the stretch and burn of Danny in him.
Danny swallowed. “You want me to slow down?” he asked, his voice rough. Don was so tight around him, so tight and hot, even more than…
Quickly, he forced his thoughts back to the present and away from where they had threatened to go. He would deal with that later. Right now, he was here to help Don.
Don laughed breathlessly. “You’re askin’ me now?” he gasped and shifted slightly.
“You weren’t exactly listening earlier,” Danny defended himself. “Now what? Stop? Or not?”
“Not.” The decision didn’t require Don to think about it. He would hurt Danny if he stopped now.
“Slow or rough?” Danny asked and pressed his forehead to Don’s sweaty back.
“Give it to me, Messer,” Don challenged and flexed under him again.
Danny could tell that he was still trying to get used to the feeling of Danny in him, and he chuckled slightly.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “you’re a real tough guy.”
It was the same thing Don had said to him earlier, he thought while letting his hips set a pace that would get him to his climax quickly, and just like Don, he had added a heavy tint of sarcasm to them.
He knew Don Flack, after all. He knew how much he was not a tough guy.
His hand sneaked down, between Don’s legs, and he didn’t waste any time and gripped his dick, coaxing it into hardness and stroking it with the same almost punishing rhythm his hips had set.
Don groaned again, but he was pushing his hips back, demanding more, even if he remained mostly silent – not that Danny would have understood any of his words over the rush of blood in his own ears as his own orgasm approached him with the force of a tornado.
His teeth closed against the skin of Don’s back when his hips finally came to a stuttering halt, and the deep groan and the wetness covering his hand told him that Don had come, too, and he pulled back way more carefully than he’d been throughout their little encounter.
Sweat was covering both of them, and belatedly, Danny realized that his legs were shaking. He’d overdone it, he thought grimly. He wasn’t at a hundred percent yet, the muscles in his legs weak even if he was able to walk again, but this – coming to Don’s place, lurking in the hallways until Don came home, and surprising him – had been the right thing to do. If he’d waited any longer, he probably wouldn’t have been able to get through to Don like this.
He stretched out alongside Don and gave him a soft smile while reaching out to brush just the tips of his fingers against the scars on Don’s stomach, leaving traces of lube and semen on his skin.
“You ready to talk about stuff now?” he asked softly.
Exhausted blue eyes slowly blinked open. “Not really,” Don murmured, making a half-hearted attempt to push off his boots and jeans and pull the sheets over both of them.
Danny tossed an arm over him and pulled him close. Don didn’t fight it – maybe, Danny thought hopefully, he’d managed to get through all of Don’s defenses, and he would get his best friend back instead of the asshole looking like him.
“Next time,” he muttered, his lips pressed against Don’s back, “talk to me, man. If you pull a Mac again, we’ll send up the real Mac to straighten you out.”
Don chuckled weakly. “What makes you think Mac hadn’t been here?” he teased, his words slurred together with tiredness.
Danny kissed his shoulder again. “Next time, we’ll just tell him to fuck you through the mattress,” he murmured.
Don laughed softly and pressed himself gently against Danny, already dozing off, and maybe, Danny thought while holding him close, he could make an exception to his no cuddling rule.
For Don.
Once.
~end.