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kathierif_ficTitle: Bridge Over Frozen Water
Author: Kathie
Fandom: CSI:NY
Pairing: Sheldon Hawkes/Don Flack
Rating: FRM
Content: AU, slash
chapter 1. | chapter 2. | chapter 3. | chapter 4. | chapter 5.
“Hawkes!”
Sheldon looked up from the report he was just finishing when he heard Mac’s voice from across the lab.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t ever heard Mac shout and yell – on the contrary. Mac was a man with strong opinions, and no fear to voice them. Sheldon himself had been the cause for Mac’s irritation and reason for him to raise his voice in the past – not as often as Danny, or stupid criminals, but there was no doubt that Sheldon, himself, had made a few decisions that he wasn’t proud of.
He firmly pushed the thought of his argument with Don aside and rose. From the corner of his eye, he saw Adam in his lab, flinching at the loud sound of Mac’s voice, and he made a mental note to finally apologize to the tech for snapping at him. He’d promised himself he would do it, but he hadn’t found the time yet.
Mac was striding toward the elevator, his kit in one hand and his keys in the other, his coat thrown over his arm, and he had a deep frown etched onto his face, a frown that Sheldon could see from a long distance away as he moved to catch up with Mac before he reached the elevator.
“Mac?” he asked. That expression never meant anything good. Something had happened – something bad.
And, apparently, it had something to do with him.
“We just got a call,” Mac said, finally slowing down and turning toward Sheldon. “They think it’s another attempted murder.”
Sheldon stared at Mac from wide eyes. Mac had explicitly told him to stay away from the case he was working on – the Rangers case – and there could be only one reason why he would tell him about it now.
For one, somehow Mac had figured out the true depth of the relationship between Sheldon and Don.
And for two…there had been another attack on a Rangers player.
It had to be Don. Mac wouldn’t be talking to him right now if that wasn’t the case. He was obviously on his way to the scene and in a hurry, if the pinched expression on his face was any indicator.
Sheldon swallowed around the sudden dryness in his throat. “Don,” he managed, not caring that his voice threatened to break halfway through the name and not caring that he was in public. “Is he…?”
He didn’t even know what exactly he was trying to ask, he realized as he licked his lips, struggling to finish the question somehow, but his heart had clenched painfully in his chest, making it hard to breathe and even harder to concentrate on talking.
“He’s in the hospital,” Mac replied. “They think he has a concussion. He’ll be fine, Sheldon.”
“I need to see him,” Sheldon decided, the argument he and Don had had forgotten for now. It just wasn’t important right now. The only thing Sheldon cared about was seeing Don with his own eyes and assuring himself that the other man was really fine.
Mac nodded. “Hurry up, I’ll give you a ride,” he said, and Sheldon nodded and raced off, toward the office, to get his coat.
His report could wait.
He needed to see Don.
True to his word, Mac was still waiting by the elevator by the time Sheldon returned, and Sheldon gave him a brief, thankful nod before pushing his hands deep in the pockets of his coat and concentrating on his breathing. He wouldn’t help anyone if he hyperventilated now, he knew that, and his long years working in the ER helped him getting settled.
Mac had said that Don was okay. He had to believe Mac until he could see it with his own eyes. Mac wouldn’t lie to him about this.
Don would be fine.
“What happened?” he finally managed to ask.
“A car accident. Or not an accident.” Mac didn’t look at him. “As far as we know, another car tried to push his off the street.”
Sheldon nodded jerkily. “He’s fine?” he asked again, and this time, Mac gave him a quick glance.
“We’re going to the hospital,” he said calmly. “Lindsay and Adam are on the car. We’ll talk to him.”
Sheldon just nodded and stared at his hands. He’d knotted his fingers tightly together, but the pain didn’t even register.
“How…how did you two meet?” Mac asked after a few moments of tense silence. “After you stitched him up?”
Sheldon snorted slightly. “He found me,” he said. A faint smile appeared on his face as he remembered how Don had figured out where to find him. “Said that his old man was a cop and a few things stuck with him.”
He shook his head slightly. “Mac, I don’t think Don is the guy you’re looking for. He’s not a killer.”
“I have seen a few of those games,” Mac pointed out. “He looks pretty ruthless when he’s beating up a member of the opposing team.”
“But that’s just on the ice.” Sheldon exhaled slowly. “He’s best friends with most of these guys, off the ice.”
“So it’s just for show.”
“No.” Sheldon shook his head firmly. “It isn’t. It’s…it’s complicated, Mac, but I’m telling you, Don Flack could never kill another human being in his life.”
Mac didn’t reply, and Sheldon fell back into his nervous and tense silence. He just hoped that Don was okay.
He needed to see him.
~*+*~
Don looked up at the sound of the knock.
His head was pounding, and he was still trying to process what had just happened. He was used to things happening fast around him – hockey wasn’t, by all means, a slow sport – but this had been different.
It had happened too fast. Like a check from his blindside, with no warning and no chance to brace himself. One second, he was driving to practice, the next one, his car was spinning wildly out of control.
He was probably lucky that he wasn’t driving a small sports car like Hank was, he thought dazedly. His car had been sturdy enough to protect him, and he’d gotten away with a probable concussion. He needed to get through a few more tests to make sure he was really fine, besides the cut on his forehead, where he had crashed into the steering wheel. A cut that had been there before and that had just opened up again.
He’d gotten worse playing hockey.
“Don?”
Don shook his head carefully. “I’m hallucinatin’,” he slurred. “I hear voices. Of people who don’t talk to me anymore.”
Sheldon stepped further into the room and pushed the door closed behind himself, and almost against his will, Don had to remember the day they’d met for the first time. It had been so many years…he started to shake his head, to get rid of the memory, but thought better of it when his skull pounded even harder. He just closed his eyes instead.
“Mac told me…he said you were in an accident.”
Don squinted up at him. “Thought he wanted you as far away as possible from me,” he murmured. “To preserve the purity and sacredness of the New York Crime Lab.”
“Mac is a good boss,” Sheldon simply said. “A good man. He’s not a monster, Don.” He pulled the uncomfortable plastic chair to Don’s bedside and sat down. “How are you feeling?”
His voice sounded gentle and caring, and, Don thought, smooth like the surface of a rink after the Zamboni went over it. It was familiar and soothing. Don closed his eyes with a small grunt. The world kept on spinning gently around him.
“Hope…someone retaliated for that check,” he joked weakly.
Sheldon chuckled softly and brushed his fingertips along Don’s wrist. “What did the doctors say?” he wanted to know.
Don sighed. “They think it might be a concussion. A mild one,” he murmured. “Need to do a few more tests, just to make sure. If it’s not a concussion, I could be back in the line-up for the next game. Or the one after that.”
Sheldon nodded. “But for now, you take it easy,” he said. “Slow. I told you about the risks of head injuries.”
“You did.” Don managed to crack a smile. “Several times.”
“That’s right.” Sheldon shifted his hand, to let his fingers tangle with Don’s. “Hey, Don?”
“Hmmm?”
Sheldon inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry for acting like a…like a dick,” he blurted out.
Don frowned, as if he couldn’t remember what had happened between the two of them – a classic sign of a concussion, Sheldon thought worriedly before he remembered the words that Don had said to him.
“Yeah, you were,” Don finally said. “Why didn’t you believe me? You know me. You know I couldn’t…”
He trailed off, and Sheldon sighed. “Because I was an idiot, okay?” he said. “I was confused and angry. And worried about you.”
“Funny way to show it,” Don grumbled, but the corners of his lips were twitching slightly. “You can make it up to me when my head stops killing me.”
“Make it up to you?” Sheldon asked. For a split second, he wanted to point out that Don had overreacted, too, but he was too relieved that Don would be fine to try and pick another fight. It wasn’t worth it, he decided. He loved Don, and he was just relieved that he hadn’t lost him today.
“Yeah, make it up to me,” Don murmured and squeezed Sheldon’s hand. “You can break me out of the hospital, for example.”
“First we wait for the results of the tests,” Sheldon decided. “And I’m sure Mac wants to talk to you, too. About the accident.”
“If it was an accident, yeah,” Don murmured. “I mean, with what happened to Hank…” He moved his shoulders uncomfortably. “Hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?”
Sheldon nodded. “Yeah,” he murmured. “But then, we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves here. Maybe it just was a series of unlucky events.”
“I don’t know, Shel.” Don leaned up on one elbow with a deep frown. “It was wet…the streets, I mean…I don’t know if it was an accident. This guy…he was driving pretty fast. And he didn’t stick around after he pushed me off the street.”
“Mac will find out,” Sheldon pointed out firmly. “He is a good cop.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
Sheldon smiled softly. “Lindsay and Adam are probably working on your car already,” he said. “Taking it apart and figuring out what exactly happened.”
“I hope they’re staying out of the glove box,” Don quipped back before frowning again. “It was a dark SUV,” he said slowly. “I remember that.”
“What else do you remember?” Sheldon asked while leaning closer to the other man. “Any detail can help us, you know?”
He knew that Mac wouldn’t be happy that he was getting involved in this case, even if he was just talking to Don. He didn’t care right now. All he cared about was that Don would be fine, and that they figured out who had done this and lock the culprit up, to prevent it from ever happening again.
“I don’t know, Shel.” Don sighed. “I don’t understand it. Why would anyone want to kill me? Or Hank?”
“I don’t know.”
“If it was Sean…” Don shook his head carefully. “I mean…he’s Sean.”
“Yeah,” Sheldon murmured. “I know, Don.”
Don grimaced, but Sheldon didn’t know if it was because of his headache getting worse or because he was trying to figure the situation out.
“Why don’t you try to get some rest?” he suggested gently. “I think you can use it.”
“Yeah,” Don murmured. “Are you gonna stay, or do you have to go back to the lab?”
Sheldon squeezed his hand gently. “If you want me to, I’ll stay.”
“Hmm,” Don replied, and Sheldon decided that yes, Don wanted him to stay.
He settled in to wait.
~*+*~
“Welcome home,” Sheldon smiled and closed the door behind himself. “How are you feeling?”
“It’s the third time since we left the hospital that you’ve asked me that,” Don pointed out with a small frown. He lifted his hand to massage the stiff muscles at the back of his neck. His shoulders and back were still tense, but he didn’t know if it was a result of the accident or of the raging headache that hadn’t gone away while he was at the hospital.
Sheldon grimaced. “I know. Sorry,” he said.
“It’s not the first time I hit my head,” Don pointed out. He tried to give Sheldon an encouraging smile. “And now, we’re home, you and me,” he added suggestively. “We should have sex.”
Sheldon’s faint frown deepened considerably. “No,” he said firmly.
“Why not?” Don asked with a small pout. It was something that usually worked on his lover, but apparently, not today.
“Because,” Sheldon replied, “you have a head injury and your doctors told you to take it easy and rest.”
“They just said to take it easy,” Don pointed out. “Nothing about rest. We could have slow and meaningful sex, you know. It doesn’t have to be adventurous.”
Sheldon sighed and leaned brushed past him, to sit down on the couch. Don, who was following him, took the opportunity to crawl over him, straddle his lap and run his hands down Sheldon’s chest. Sheldon’s hands went instinctively to Don’s narrow hips, to stabilize him, and pulled him even closer to himself.
“I’m your doctor and I’m telling you No,” he said firmly. “Besides, you said in the car that you have a headache.” He reached out with one hand to grasp Don’s chin, to get a good look at the cut on Don’s forehead.
Sheldon didn’t consider himself a small man, but Don was still taller than him, especially when perched on top of him. Sheldon had to stretch to get a good look at the injury.
“So I have a little bit of a headache,” Don admitted. He knew that lying to Sheldon wouldn’t get him anywhere, especially not where he wanted to go. “But the guys at the hospital were pretty sure it’s not a concussion. They let me go home, right? And I remember my name and I know where I am and where I want to be.” He smiled. “And I know who I want there with me,” he added. One hand closed around Sheldon’s wrist, where Sheldon was still holding his chin, his fingers warm and strong against Sheldon’s skin.
Alive.
Sheldon exhaled shakily. “And I’m still telling you No,” he repeated. “Damn, Donnie…you could have died.” The thought alone was enough to make his throat close up with panic.
“Hey.” Don’s voice was firm as he pulled Sheldon close and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m fine, okay? I’m here.” He laughed, a sharp, shaky sound that seemed to fill the sudden and paralyzing silence around them and turn it even more suffocating than it already had been. “Shouldn’t I be the one who’s falling apart here? I mean…getting almost killed and stuff?”
“Are you?” Sheldon asked. His voice was muffled by the soft material of Don’s shirt, but he couldn’t bring himself to lift his face away from where he could hear the regular beat of Don’s heart, not even to look into these intense blue eyes he’d fallen in love with, so many years ago.
Don shrugged – Sheldon could feel the play of muscles under Don’s skin, and he only wanted to hold the other man closer to himself and never let him go. Their fight suddenly seemed so far away and so unimportant.
“Yeah,” Don admitted. The teasing tone had completely disappeared from his voice, leaving a rough scratchiness behind. “I kinda am.”
Sheldon sighed and tightened his hug. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah.”
~*+*~
“Donnie?”
Sheldon ran his fingers carefully through Don’s hair, checking almost unconsciously for bumps and other outwards signs of a head injury or concussion. He knew that the doctors at the hospital had done the same already, that they were capable and competent, and that Don hadn’t shown any sign of a concussion, but the doctor in Sheldon refused to shut up and insisted on making sure for himself that Don was okay.
This was Don. He had to be kept safe, as silly and ridiculous as that sounded, even in his own head. Don wasn’t supposed to be involved in crimes, attempted murders and car crashes that hadn’t been accidents. That was Sheldon’s job, and even he only dealt with the aftermath of crimes and didn’t have anything to do with the actual crime. That was the job of the detectives. Sheldon wasn’t a detective, and Don…Don was a hockey player.
A damn good hockey player, as far as Sheldon was concerned. The kind of player who wouldn’t give up and would work his ass off in a game, no matter the score. He wasn’t a pure goal scorer. In fact, Don averaged about eight to ten goals a season, most of them deflections and ugly goals, but Sheldon didn’t care about that.
He didn’t care about the hockey player Don Flack.
He just cared about the man underneath all the protective equipment and hockey tape.
The man who had been in an accident earlier that day – if it had been an accident. Sheldon still didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.
This was Don. He wasn’t supposed to be in this world Sheldon had to deal with every day. He wasn’t supposed to deal with crime.
He was just supposed to play hockey and make Sheldon forget about the ugliness of crimes every now and then.
And, Sheldon thought, faint amusement tingeing the edges of his mind, he had tried to do that, by needling Sheldon about having sex until he’d dozed off, leaning against Sheldon’s side while they still were curled up on the couch. He would probably be stiff and uncomfortable in the morning.
Sheldon’s fingers curled around the base of Don’s skull again.
“Don,” he repeated, a little bit louder this time. “Hey, Flack. Donnie!”
Don stirred slightly. A frown appeared on his forehead, and he slowly blinked his eyes open.
For a moment, they were both silent, then Don grimaced. “Did I fall asleep on you?” he asked.
“Not for long,” Sheldon promised with a small smile. “I figured you’d be more comfortable out of these jeans and in your bed.”
“Maybe,” Don agreed and carefully stretched both arms over his head. A thin stripe of pale skin appeared when his shirt rode up, and Sheldon reached for it with quick fingers and brushed them over Don’s skin.
Don snorted out with laughter and batted Sheldon’s fingers away. “Stop teasing,” he demanded. “You said already that this isn’t going to go anywhere.”
He seemed fine, Sheldon thought, but it still wouldn’t be a mistake to be careful. He had seen too much in his line of work not to be, especially since this wasn’t some random stranger.
This was Don.
The man he’d fallen in love with.
“Yeah,” he said and put his hand fully on Don’s stomach, pushing up the shirt and letting his hand rest there. He could feel how the well-defined muscles under his palm relaxed.
Don chuckled gently. “Should we go to bed?” he wanted to know. “And if you don’t want to fuck, that’s okay too. There’s other things we can do, you know.”
Sheldon gave him a smile. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Tuck you in and make you get better.”
Don didn’t protest. He just raised both eyebrows amusedly, disentangled himself from Sheldon and padded across the room, toward the bathroom – hopefully, Sheldon thought, to brush his teeth and get ready for bed and not because he was planning anything funny with the lube in his medicine cabinet.
There would be time for that later. Not now.
~*+*~
Sheldon slowly opened his eyes. For a brief moment, he felt disorientated, but then, the events of the day before came rushing back to him.
Don.
The accident.
If it was an accident, in the first place.
Sheldon still didn’t know.
He would have to ask Mac later if they’d already found out something. Even if Mac couldn’t tell him anything specific, a general answer would be fine for Sheldon, too. He just needed to know if it really had been an accident – which, he tried telling himself, was a plausible probability, the streets had been wet and slick and accidents did happen, after all – or if he needed to worry even more about Don getting injured.
He shook his head slightly and rolled around, only to find himself face to face with the object of his thoughts. Don was leaning on one elbow, a faint grin on his face. He looked better than he had the night before, despite the dark bruises that had started to appear on his face.
Sheldon managed a smile. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Don raised both eyebrows, but before he could say anything else, Sheldon asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” Don replied. “Headache is better.” He reached out and traced Sheldon’s chest with his finger. “I’ve watched you freak out ever since you opened your eyes the first time.”
“Funny,” Sheldon sighed and pressed his own hand over Don’s, trapping it against his chest. “What time is it?”
“Middle of the night for us civilized people…almost time to get up for you,” Don replied. “We still have some time.”
“Still time for what?” Sheldon asked with a soft smile.
Don managed a shrug, despite the fact that he was balancing on his elbow and Sheldon was still holding his other hand trapped against his chest. “Depends on what you’re up to,” he grinned and tugged his hand free, to run it down Sheldon’s stomach and over the front of his pajama pants.
Sheldon laughed, but he didn’t protest and didn’t try to move away from Don’s teasing fingers. He’d missed Don’s playfulness in bed, the way he knew exactly how to touch Sheldon to make him come back for more, the way his tongue peeked out at the corner of his mouth when he was concentrating on making Sheldon feel good.
He’d missed being able to just reach out and feel hard muscles shift under his touch, coarse dark hair rasping against his palm, as he slid it up Don’s thigh, until he encountered the soft fabric of Don’s boxers.
He’d also missed the feeling of Don’s fingers at the back of his skull, pressing into his skin with gentle force and pulling him into the contact with Don’s lips, which were reddened already. His eyes fluttered shut as he kissed back, even if he kept his lips closed – he needed to get up and get his hands on a toothbrush before this could go any further.
Finally, Don pulled back and grinned at him. “The way I see it,” he murmured before licking his lips teasingly, “we just had a really big fight.”
“Yeah?” Sheldon found himself half-agreeing. He was feeling breathless already.
Don rubbed his palm over the front of Sheldon’s pants. “We never had a big-ass fight like that before,” he pointed out.
“True,” Sheldon nodded. “So?”
“So, the best part about having a fight is the making up,” Don grinned and brought his fingers up, to tug down Sheldon’s pants to mid-thigh and to start stroking his dick, coaxing it into full hardness.
It didn’t take him long.
Don’s hand closed around his erection, his grip a little too tight for comfort, but Sheldon didn’t care as sensations tingled along his nerve endings, his synapses firing and his world narrowing to just the two of them, half-covered by the sheets on the bed and wrapped closely around each other.
“Just like that,” Don murmured breathlessly. “Sheldon…”
Sheldon turned his head and trailed his open mouth along Don’s shoulder, tasting faint traces of sweat and soap. His hands ran down Don’s sides, and he marveled again at the pure athleticism of his lover’s body.
“We shouldn’t do this,” he murmured, but it was as if his own body refused to obey the commands of his mind, straining against Don’s grip, his hips flexing, and his hand reaching for Don’s cock, to return the favor.
“Stop thinking, I’m fine,” Don replied, his voice low and intense. “I want this.”
Sheldon’s breath hitched as Don twisted his wrist, surprising him a little. “I want you healthy,” he protested, while at the same time, his hand had found a rhythm that Don liked.
“Yeah,” Don replied, his voice rough and scratchy. “I just want you.”
They didn’t talk after that, besides broken moans and accelerated breathing, the sound of skin sliding against skin filling the air and the sound of his own heartbeat filling Sheldon’s ears.
~*+*~
“I need a shower before I go to work,” Sheldon murmured and slid his hand over Don’s sweaty back.
Don chuckled, breath ghosting over Sheldon’s chest in a hot puff that made him shiver. “Yeah, you do,” he murmured. “You shower, I start the coffee.”
“You don’t want to shower?” Sheldon asked and shifted his leg slightly, letting it slide against Don’s.
Don shook his head slightly. “Later,” he decided. “Got a call from coach yesterday, I’m off today. No practice.”
“Lucky you,” Sheldon chuckled and started to get himself untangled from the other man. “Why are you even awake?”
Don gave him a grin. “I don’t know,” he replied. “But I do know that you don’t have the day off. And if you don’t get a move on, you’ll be late.”
Sheldon grimaced, but he got up, heading toward the bathroom, the sound of Don’s laughter still in his ears and filling him with a warm, comfortable feeling.
~*+*~
“I really appreciate what you tried to do here,” Sheldon pointed out, “but don’t quit your day job just yet. You make a horrible housewife.”
Don shrugged. “Maybe,” he replied while glancing down at the remnants of their breakfast. “How about you make breakfast tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Sheldon said and glanced at his watch. “And I actually have to go now.” He stood and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “Will you be okay?”
Earnest blue eyes looked up at him. “I will,” Don promised, his voice soft. “Don’t worry about me.”
Sheldon bent down and brushed his lips over Don’s. The taste of coffee clung to the other man’s lips, together with the slight stickiness remaining from the jam he’d had on his toast, and Sheldon licked his own lips when he pulled back. “Can’t help it,” he said easily, “I love you. Of course I worry about you.”
For a moment, they stared at each other, the sound of the fridge humming the only sound in the room, then Don tilted his head to the side and grinned. “You know, that was pretty corny there.”
“Just romantic,” Sheldon replied, “and you ruined it.”
“Sorry,” Don grinned, not sounding apologetic at all. “I’ll make it up to you when you come home tonight. Darling.”
“That better be a promise,” Sheldon replied and kissed him again. “Call me if something’s up. Headache getting worse, that kind of thing.”
“Yeah,” Don promised. “I promise. Seriously, Shel, don’t worry about me.” He held up a hand before Sheldon could say a single word. “And don’t say anything romantic or I’ll do something bad. Start crying or something.”
“Can’t have that,” Sheldon agreed dryly. “All right. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Yep.”
He waited another heartbeat, to see if Don would add anything, but the other man didn’t seem to be inclined to do so, and Sheldon gave a small mental shrug and stepped away from Don.
“Hey Doc?” Don called out.
“Hm?”
“Love you too. Now get your ass to work or your boss might want to have a piece of it. And I don’t share.”
Sheldon laughed. He was still smiling when he stepped out of the building.
It felt good, to have Don back in his life.
TBC in chapter 7.
Author: Kathie
Fandom: CSI:NY
Pairing: Sheldon Hawkes/Don Flack
Rating: FRM
Content: AU, slash
chapter 1. | chapter 2. | chapter 3. | chapter 4. | chapter 5.
“Hawkes!”
Sheldon looked up from the report he was just finishing when he heard Mac’s voice from across the lab.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t ever heard Mac shout and yell – on the contrary. Mac was a man with strong opinions, and no fear to voice them. Sheldon himself had been the cause for Mac’s irritation and reason for him to raise his voice in the past – not as often as Danny, or stupid criminals, but there was no doubt that Sheldon, himself, had made a few decisions that he wasn’t proud of.
He firmly pushed the thought of his argument with Don aside and rose. From the corner of his eye, he saw Adam in his lab, flinching at the loud sound of Mac’s voice, and he made a mental note to finally apologize to the tech for snapping at him. He’d promised himself he would do it, but he hadn’t found the time yet.
Mac was striding toward the elevator, his kit in one hand and his keys in the other, his coat thrown over his arm, and he had a deep frown etched onto his face, a frown that Sheldon could see from a long distance away as he moved to catch up with Mac before he reached the elevator.
“Mac?” he asked. That expression never meant anything good. Something had happened – something bad.
And, apparently, it had something to do with him.
“We just got a call,” Mac said, finally slowing down and turning toward Sheldon. “They think it’s another attempted murder.”
Sheldon stared at Mac from wide eyes. Mac had explicitly told him to stay away from the case he was working on – the Rangers case – and there could be only one reason why he would tell him about it now.
For one, somehow Mac had figured out the true depth of the relationship between Sheldon and Don.
And for two…there had been another attack on a Rangers player.
It had to be Don. Mac wouldn’t be talking to him right now if that wasn’t the case. He was obviously on his way to the scene and in a hurry, if the pinched expression on his face was any indicator.
Sheldon swallowed around the sudden dryness in his throat. “Don,” he managed, not caring that his voice threatened to break halfway through the name and not caring that he was in public. “Is he…?”
He didn’t even know what exactly he was trying to ask, he realized as he licked his lips, struggling to finish the question somehow, but his heart had clenched painfully in his chest, making it hard to breathe and even harder to concentrate on talking.
“He’s in the hospital,” Mac replied. “They think he has a concussion. He’ll be fine, Sheldon.”
“I need to see him,” Sheldon decided, the argument he and Don had had forgotten for now. It just wasn’t important right now. The only thing Sheldon cared about was seeing Don with his own eyes and assuring himself that the other man was really fine.
Mac nodded. “Hurry up, I’ll give you a ride,” he said, and Sheldon nodded and raced off, toward the office, to get his coat.
His report could wait.
He needed to see Don.
True to his word, Mac was still waiting by the elevator by the time Sheldon returned, and Sheldon gave him a brief, thankful nod before pushing his hands deep in the pockets of his coat and concentrating on his breathing. He wouldn’t help anyone if he hyperventilated now, he knew that, and his long years working in the ER helped him getting settled.
Mac had said that Don was okay. He had to believe Mac until he could see it with his own eyes. Mac wouldn’t lie to him about this.
Don would be fine.
“What happened?” he finally managed to ask.
“A car accident. Or not an accident.” Mac didn’t look at him. “As far as we know, another car tried to push his off the street.”
Sheldon nodded jerkily. “He’s fine?” he asked again, and this time, Mac gave him a quick glance.
“We’re going to the hospital,” he said calmly. “Lindsay and Adam are on the car. We’ll talk to him.”
Sheldon just nodded and stared at his hands. He’d knotted his fingers tightly together, but the pain didn’t even register.
“How…how did you two meet?” Mac asked after a few moments of tense silence. “After you stitched him up?”
Sheldon snorted slightly. “He found me,” he said. A faint smile appeared on his face as he remembered how Don had figured out where to find him. “Said that his old man was a cop and a few things stuck with him.”
He shook his head slightly. “Mac, I don’t think Don is the guy you’re looking for. He’s not a killer.”
“I have seen a few of those games,” Mac pointed out. “He looks pretty ruthless when he’s beating up a member of the opposing team.”
“But that’s just on the ice.” Sheldon exhaled slowly. “He’s best friends with most of these guys, off the ice.”
“So it’s just for show.”
“No.” Sheldon shook his head firmly. “It isn’t. It’s…it’s complicated, Mac, but I’m telling you, Don Flack could never kill another human being in his life.”
Mac didn’t reply, and Sheldon fell back into his nervous and tense silence. He just hoped that Don was okay.
He needed to see him.
~*+*~
Don looked up at the sound of the knock.
His head was pounding, and he was still trying to process what had just happened. He was used to things happening fast around him – hockey wasn’t, by all means, a slow sport – but this had been different.
It had happened too fast. Like a check from his blindside, with no warning and no chance to brace himself. One second, he was driving to practice, the next one, his car was spinning wildly out of control.
He was probably lucky that he wasn’t driving a small sports car like Hank was, he thought dazedly. His car had been sturdy enough to protect him, and he’d gotten away with a probable concussion. He needed to get through a few more tests to make sure he was really fine, besides the cut on his forehead, where he had crashed into the steering wheel. A cut that had been there before and that had just opened up again.
He’d gotten worse playing hockey.
“Don?”
Don shook his head carefully. “I’m hallucinatin’,” he slurred. “I hear voices. Of people who don’t talk to me anymore.”
Sheldon stepped further into the room and pushed the door closed behind himself, and almost against his will, Don had to remember the day they’d met for the first time. It had been so many years…he started to shake his head, to get rid of the memory, but thought better of it when his skull pounded even harder. He just closed his eyes instead.
“Mac told me…he said you were in an accident.”
Don squinted up at him. “Thought he wanted you as far away as possible from me,” he murmured. “To preserve the purity and sacredness of the New York Crime Lab.”
“Mac is a good boss,” Sheldon simply said. “A good man. He’s not a monster, Don.” He pulled the uncomfortable plastic chair to Don’s bedside and sat down. “How are you feeling?”
His voice sounded gentle and caring, and, Don thought, smooth like the surface of a rink after the Zamboni went over it. It was familiar and soothing. Don closed his eyes with a small grunt. The world kept on spinning gently around him.
“Hope…someone retaliated for that check,” he joked weakly.
Sheldon chuckled softly and brushed his fingertips along Don’s wrist. “What did the doctors say?” he wanted to know.
Don sighed. “They think it might be a concussion. A mild one,” he murmured. “Need to do a few more tests, just to make sure. If it’s not a concussion, I could be back in the line-up for the next game. Or the one after that.”
Sheldon nodded. “But for now, you take it easy,” he said. “Slow. I told you about the risks of head injuries.”
“You did.” Don managed to crack a smile. “Several times.”
“That’s right.” Sheldon shifted his hand, to let his fingers tangle with Don’s. “Hey, Don?”
“Hmmm?”
Sheldon inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry for acting like a…like a dick,” he blurted out.
Don frowned, as if he couldn’t remember what had happened between the two of them – a classic sign of a concussion, Sheldon thought worriedly before he remembered the words that Don had said to him.
“Yeah, you were,” Don finally said. “Why didn’t you believe me? You know me. You know I couldn’t…”
He trailed off, and Sheldon sighed. “Because I was an idiot, okay?” he said. “I was confused and angry. And worried about you.”
“Funny way to show it,” Don grumbled, but the corners of his lips were twitching slightly. “You can make it up to me when my head stops killing me.”
“Make it up to you?” Sheldon asked. For a split second, he wanted to point out that Don had overreacted, too, but he was too relieved that Don would be fine to try and pick another fight. It wasn’t worth it, he decided. He loved Don, and he was just relieved that he hadn’t lost him today.
“Yeah, make it up to me,” Don murmured and squeezed Sheldon’s hand. “You can break me out of the hospital, for example.”
“First we wait for the results of the tests,” Sheldon decided. “And I’m sure Mac wants to talk to you, too. About the accident.”
“If it was an accident, yeah,” Don murmured. “I mean, with what happened to Hank…” He moved his shoulders uncomfortably. “Hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?”
Sheldon nodded. “Yeah,” he murmured. “But then, we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves here. Maybe it just was a series of unlucky events.”
“I don’t know, Shel.” Don leaned up on one elbow with a deep frown. “It was wet…the streets, I mean…I don’t know if it was an accident. This guy…he was driving pretty fast. And he didn’t stick around after he pushed me off the street.”
“Mac will find out,” Sheldon pointed out firmly. “He is a good cop.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
Sheldon smiled softly. “Lindsay and Adam are probably working on your car already,” he said. “Taking it apart and figuring out what exactly happened.”
“I hope they’re staying out of the glove box,” Don quipped back before frowning again. “It was a dark SUV,” he said slowly. “I remember that.”
“What else do you remember?” Sheldon asked while leaning closer to the other man. “Any detail can help us, you know?”
He knew that Mac wouldn’t be happy that he was getting involved in this case, even if he was just talking to Don. He didn’t care right now. All he cared about was that Don would be fine, and that they figured out who had done this and lock the culprit up, to prevent it from ever happening again.
“I don’t know, Shel.” Don sighed. “I don’t understand it. Why would anyone want to kill me? Or Hank?”
“I don’t know.”
“If it was Sean…” Don shook his head carefully. “I mean…he’s Sean.”
“Yeah,” Sheldon murmured. “I know, Don.”
Don grimaced, but Sheldon didn’t know if it was because of his headache getting worse or because he was trying to figure the situation out.
“Why don’t you try to get some rest?” he suggested gently. “I think you can use it.”
“Yeah,” Don murmured. “Are you gonna stay, or do you have to go back to the lab?”
Sheldon squeezed his hand gently. “If you want me to, I’ll stay.”
“Hmm,” Don replied, and Sheldon decided that yes, Don wanted him to stay.
He settled in to wait.
~*+*~
“Welcome home,” Sheldon smiled and closed the door behind himself. “How are you feeling?”
“It’s the third time since we left the hospital that you’ve asked me that,” Don pointed out with a small frown. He lifted his hand to massage the stiff muscles at the back of his neck. His shoulders and back were still tense, but he didn’t know if it was a result of the accident or of the raging headache that hadn’t gone away while he was at the hospital.
Sheldon grimaced. “I know. Sorry,” he said.
“It’s not the first time I hit my head,” Don pointed out. He tried to give Sheldon an encouraging smile. “And now, we’re home, you and me,” he added suggestively. “We should have sex.”
Sheldon’s faint frown deepened considerably. “No,” he said firmly.
“Why not?” Don asked with a small pout. It was something that usually worked on his lover, but apparently, not today.
“Because,” Sheldon replied, “you have a head injury and your doctors told you to take it easy and rest.”
“They just said to take it easy,” Don pointed out. “Nothing about rest. We could have slow and meaningful sex, you know. It doesn’t have to be adventurous.”
Sheldon sighed and leaned brushed past him, to sit down on the couch. Don, who was following him, took the opportunity to crawl over him, straddle his lap and run his hands down Sheldon’s chest. Sheldon’s hands went instinctively to Don’s narrow hips, to stabilize him, and pulled him even closer to himself.
“I’m your doctor and I’m telling you No,” he said firmly. “Besides, you said in the car that you have a headache.” He reached out with one hand to grasp Don’s chin, to get a good look at the cut on Don’s forehead.
Sheldon didn’t consider himself a small man, but Don was still taller than him, especially when perched on top of him. Sheldon had to stretch to get a good look at the injury.
“So I have a little bit of a headache,” Don admitted. He knew that lying to Sheldon wouldn’t get him anywhere, especially not where he wanted to go. “But the guys at the hospital were pretty sure it’s not a concussion. They let me go home, right? And I remember my name and I know where I am and where I want to be.” He smiled. “And I know who I want there with me,” he added. One hand closed around Sheldon’s wrist, where Sheldon was still holding his chin, his fingers warm and strong against Sheldon’s skin.
Alive.
Sheldon exhaled shakily. “And I’m still telling you No,” he repeated. “Damn, Donnie…you could have died.” The thought alone was enough to make his throat close up with panic.
“Hey.” Don’s voice was firm as he pulled Sheldon close and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m fine, okay? I’m here.” He laughed, a sharp, shaky sound that seemed to fill the sudden and paralyzing silence around them and turn it even more suffocating than it already had been. “Shouldn’t I be the one who’s falling apart here? I mean…getting almost killed and stuff?”
“Are you?” Sheldon asked. His voice was muffled by the soft material of Don’s shirt, but he couldn’t bring himself to lift his face away from where he could hear the regular beat of Don’s heart, not even to look into these intense blue eyes he’d fallen in love with, so many years ago.
Don shrugged – Sheldon could feel the play of muscles under Don’s skin, and he only wanted to hold the other man closer to himself and never let him go. Their fight suddenly seemed so far away and so unimportant.
“Yeah,” Don admitted. The teasing tone had completely disappeared from his voice, leaving a rough scratchiness behind. “I kinda am.”
Sheldon sighed and tightened his hug. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah.”
~*+*~
“Donnie?”
Sheldon ran his fingers carefully through Don’s hair, checking almost unconsciously for bumps and other outwards signs of a head injury or concussion. He knew that the doctors at the hospital had done the same already, that they were capable and competent, and that Don hadn’t shown any sign of a concussion, but the doctor in Sheldon refused to shut up and insisted on making sure for himself that Don was okay.
This was Don. He had to be kept safe, as silly and ridiculous as that sounded, even in his own head. Don wasn’t supposed to be involved in crimes, attempted murders and car crashes that hadn’t been accidents. That was Sheldon’s job, and even he only dealt with the aftermath of crimes and didn’t have anything to do with the actual crime. That was the job of the detectives. Sheldon wasn’t a detective, and Don…Don was a hockey player.
A damn good hockey player, as far as Sheldon was concerned. The kind of player who wouldn’t give up and would work his ass off in a game, no matter the score. He wasn’t a pure goal scorer. In fact, Don averaged about eight to ten goals a season, most of them deflections and ugly goals, but Sheldon didn’t care about that.
He didn’t care about the hockey player Don Flack.
He just cared about the man underneath all the protective equipment and hockey tape.
The man who had been in an accident earlier that day – if it had been an accident. Sheldon still didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.
This was Don. He wasn’t supposed to be in this world Sheldon had to deal with every day. He wasn’t supposed to deal with crime.
He was just supposed to play hockey and make Sheldon forget about the ugliness of crimes every now and then.
And, Sheldon thought, faint amusement tingeing the edges of his mind, he had tried to do that, by needling Sheldon about having sex until he’d dozed off, leaning against Sheldon’s side while they still were curled up on the couch. He would probably be stiff and uncomfortable in the morning.
Sheldon’s fingers curled around the base of Don’s skull again.
“Don,” he repeated, a little bit louder this time. “Hey, Flack. Donnie!”
Don stirred slightly. A frown appeared on his forehead, and he slowly blinked his eyes open.
For a moment, they were both silent, then Don grimaced. “Did I fall asleep on you?” he asked.
“Not for long,” Sheldon promised with a small smile. “I figured you’d be more comfortable out of these jeans and in your bed.”
“Maybe,” Don agreed and carefully stretched both arms over his head. A thin stripe of pale skin appeared when his shirt rode up, and Sheldon reached for it with quick fingers and brushed them over Don’s skin.
Don snorted out with laughter and batted Sheldon’s fingers away. “Stop teasing,” he demanded. “You said already that this isn’t going to go anywhere.”
He seemed fine, Sheldon thought, but it still wouldn’t be a mistake to be careful. He had seen too much in his line of work not to be, especially since this wasn’t some random stranger.
This was Don.
The man he’d fallen in love with.
“Yeah,” he said and put his hand fully on Don’s stomach, pushing up the shirt and letting his hand rest there. He could feel how the well-defined muscles under his palm relaxed.
Don chuckled gently. “Should we go to bed?” he wanted to know. “And if you don’t want to fuck, that’s okay too. There’s other things we can do, you know.”
Sheldon gave him a smile. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Tuck you in and make you get better.”
Don didn’t protest. He just raised both eyebrows amusedly, disentangled himself from Sheldon and padded across the room, toward the bathroom – hopefully, Sheldon thought, to brush his teeth and get ready for bed and not because he was planning anything funny with the lube in his medicine cabinet.
There would be time for that later. Not now.
~*+*~
Sheldon slowly opened his eyes. For a brief moment, he felt disorientated, but then, the events of the day before came rushing back to him.
Don.
The accident.
If it was an accident, in the first place.
Sheldon still didn’t know.
He would have to ask Mac later if they’d already found out something. Even if Mac couldn’t tell him anything specific, a general answer would be fine for Sheldon, too. He just needed to know if it really had been an accident – which, he tried telling himself, was a plausible probability, the streets had been wet and slick and accidents did happen, after all – or if he needed to worry even more about Don getting injured.
He shook his head slightly and rolled around, only to find himself face to face with the object of his thoughts. Don was leaning on one elbow, a faint grin on his face. He looked better than he had the night before, despite the dark bruises that had started to appear on his face.
Sheldon managed a smile. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Don raised both eyebrows, but before he could say anything else, Sheldon asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” Don replied. “Headache is better.” He reached out and traced Sheldon’s chest with his finger. “I’ve watched you freak out ever since you opened your eyes the first time.”
“Funny,” Sheldon sighed and pressed his own hand over Don’s, trapping it against his chest. “What time is it?”
“Middle of the night for us civilized people…almost time to get up for you,” Don replied. “We still have some time.”
“Still time for what?” Sheldon asked with a soft smile.
Don managed a shrug, despite the fact that he was balancing on his elbow and Sheldon was still holding his other hand trapped against his chest. “Depends on what you’re up to,” he grinned and tugged his hand free, to run it down Sheldon’s stomach and over the front of his pajama pants.
Sheldon laughed, but he didn’t protest and didn’t try to move away from Don’s teasing fingers. He’d missed Don’s playfulness in bed, the way he knew exactly how to touch Sheldon to make him come back for more, the way his tongue peeked out at the corner of his mouth when he was concentrating on making Sheldon feel good.
He’d missed being able to just reach out and feel hard muscles shift under his touch, coarse dark hair rasping against his palm, as he slid it up Don’s thigh, until he encountered the soft fabric of Don’s boxers.
He’d also missed the feeling of Don’s fingers at the back of his skull, pressing into his skin with gentle force and pulling him into the contact with Don’s lips, which were reddened already. His eyes fluttered shut as he kissed back, even if he kept his lips closed – he needed to get up and get his hands on a toothbrush before this could go any further.
Finally, Don pulled back and grinned at him. “The way I see it,” he murmured before licking his lips teasingly, “we just had a really big fight.”
“Yeah?” Sheldon found himself half-agreeing. He was feeling breathless already.
Don rubbed his palm over the front of Sheldon’s pants. “We never had a big-ass fight like that before,” he pointed out.
“True,” Sheldon nodded. “So?”
“So, the best part about having a fight is the making up,” Don grinned and brought his fingers up, to tug down Sheldon’s pants to mid-thigh and to start stroking his dick, coaxing it into full hardness.
It didn’t take him long.
Don’s hand closed around his erection, his grip a little too tight for comfort, but Sheldon didn’t care as sensations tingled along his nerve endings, his synapses firing and his world narrowing to just the two of them, half-covered by the sheets on the bed and wrapped closely around each other.
“Just like that,” Don murmured breathlessly. “Sheldon…”
Sheldon turned his head and trailed his open mouth along Don’s shoulder, tasting faint traces of sweat and soap. His hands ran down Don’s sides, and he marveled again at the pure athleticism of his lover’s body.
“We shouldn’t do this,” he murmured, but it was as if his own body refused to obey the commands of his mind, straining against Don’s grip, his hips flexing, and his hand reaching for Don’s cock, to return the favor.
“Stop thinking, I’m fine,” Don replied, his voice low and intense. “I want this.”
Sheldon’s breath hitched as Don twisted his wrist, surprising him a little. “I want you healthy,” he protested, while at the same time, his hand had found a rhythm that Don liked.
“Yeah,” Don replied, his voice rough and scratchy. “I just want you.”
They didn’t talk after that, besides broken moans and accelerated breathing, the sound of skin sliding against skin filling the air and the sound of his own heartbeat filling Sheldon’s ears.
~*+*~
“I need a shower before I go to work,” Sheldon murmured and slid his hand over Don’s sweaty back.
Don chuckled, breath ghosting over Sheldon’s chest in a hot puff that made him shiver. “Yeah, you do,” he murmured. “You shower, I start the coffee.”
“You don’t want to shower?” Sheldon asked and shifted his leg slightly, letting it slide against Don’s.
Don shook his head slightly. “Later,” he decided. “Got a call from coach yesterday, I’m off today. No practice.”
“Lucky you,” Sheldon chuckled and started to get himself untangled from the other man. “Why are you even awake?”
Don gave him a grin. “I don’t know,” he replied. “But I do know that you don’t have the day off. And if you don’t get a move on, you’ll be late.”
Sheldon grimaced, but he got up, heading toward the bathroom, the sound of Don’s laughter still in his ears and filling him with a warm, comfortable feeling.
~*+*~
“I really appreciate what you tried to do here,” Sheldon pointed out, “but don’t quit your day job just yet. You make a horrible housewife.”
Don shrugged. “Maybe,” he replied while glancing down at the remnants of their breakfast. “How about you make breakfast tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Sheldon said and glanced at his watch. “And I actually have to go now.” He stood and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “Will you be okay?”
Earnest blue eyes looked up at him. “I will,” Don promised, his voice soft. “Don’t worry about me.”
Sheldon bent down and brushed his lips over Don’s. The taste of coffee clung to the other man’s lips, together with the slight stickiness remaining from the jam he’d had on his toast, and Sheldon licked his own lips when he pulled back. “Can’t help it,” he said easily, “I love you. Of course I worry about you.”
For a moment, they stared at each other, the sound of the fridge humming the only sound in the room, then Don tilted his head to the side and grinned. “You know, that was pretty corny there.”
“Just romantic,” Sheldon replied, “and you ruined it.”
“Sorry,” Don grinned, not sounding apologetic at all. “I’ll make it up to you when you come home tonight. Darling.”
“That better be a promise,” Sheldon replied and kissed him again. “Call me if something’s up. Headache getting worse, that kind of thing.”
“Yeah,” Don promised. “I promise. Seriously, Shel, don’t worry about me.” He held up a hand before Sheldon could say a single word. “And don’t say anything romantic or I’ll do something bad. Start crying or something.”
“Can’t have that,” Sheldon agreed dryly. “All right. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Yep.”
He waited another heartbeat, to see if Don would add anything, but the other man didn’t seem to be inclined to do so, and Sheldon gave a small mental shrug and stepped away from Don.
“Hey Doc?” Don called out.
“Hm?”
“Love you too. Now get your ass to work or your boss might want to have a piece of it. And I don’t share.”
Sheldon laughed. He was still smiling when he stepped out of the building.
It felt good, to have Don back in his life.
TBC in chapter 7.