Some fluff...
I was so high I did not recognize
The fire burning in her eyes
The chaos that controlled my mind
Whispered goodbye and she got on a plane
Never to return again
But always in my heart
This love has taken its toll on me
She said Goodbye too many times before
And her heart is breaking in front of me
I have no choice cause I won't say goodbye anymore
I tried my best to feed her appetite
Keep her coming every night
So hard to keep her satisfied
Kept playing love like it was just a game
Pretending to feel the same
Then turn around and leave again
This love has taken its toll on me
She said Goodbye too many times before
And her heart is breaking in front of me
I have no choice cause I won't say goodbye anymore
I'll fix these broken things
Repair your broken wings
And make sure everything's alright
My pressure on your hips
Sinking my fingertips
Into every inch of you
Cause I know that's what you want me to do
This love has taken its toll on me
She said Goodbye too many times before
And her heart is breaking in front of me
I have no choice cause I won't say goodbye anymore
This love has taken its toll on me
She said Goodbye too many times before
And her heart is breaking in front of me
She said Goodbye too many times before
This love has taken its toll on me
She said Goodbye too many times before
And her heart is breaking in front of me
I have no choice cause I won't say goodbye anymore...
(Maroon 5- This Love)
After- sex- moments have never been Martin's strong suits and that hasn't been changed by Danny so far. He always feels awkward and insecure, starts with the stammering and the yammering as well. And Danny is always so sure and calm and just laughs at him.
Bastard.
Martin really sees no point why he should stay with him. Sure, they have been together for a year now, but the sex is so amazing that Martin feels himself harden again at the thought. But back to the topic. He has to think un- arousing thoughts. Because... well, why?
Then the day's events come back to him and the arousal is gone. Should have thought about it earlier before he ravished Danny.
Really, Martin, what were you thinking?
But thoughts of Danny provoke other thoughts and that's not good. Please, erection, don't pay attention. And don't you dare get even more aroused. Bad erection. Bad erection.
The erection doesn't listen to him, of course. Really, why should it listen to him when Danny has just come out of the shower, a towel wrapped around lean hips, hair wet and mussed, looking all sexy and boy, now Martin really wants his erection to be right where it is.
What a happy place. Martin never wants to leave it.
Except that Danny doesn't look as if he could fo another round. Face too pale for Martin's liking and looking at the bruises on his boyfriend's torso- short moment of happy reflection at being able to call Danny his boyfriend, even if only in private-, he can feel his arousal lessen thank God and all he wants to do now is take Danny in his arms, hold him and just do nothing. He's good at that, at doing nothing. They can sleep in the next day, stay in bed as long as they want, maybe go out for a run or a walk, watch tv, read the paper, just generally do relaxing stuff.
He can vaguely remember that he is supposed to have ointment against bruises and scrapes and scratches stashed somewhere in his medicine drawer- he is a responsible 32- year- old man, he has to have ointment, at least his mother says so, he can hear her, as she gives him the tube, telling him that it can come on handy, and now it does, and Martin just totally lost his train of thought- so maybe he can make use of it now to treat Danny's bruises. And the scrapes. And don't forget the scratches that are littering his chest.
Hey, he is an A- type, he is allowed to obsess.
Sad thing, though, he isn't even remotely obsessing- Danny can probably write a couple of books about Martin Fitzgerald obsessing. This didn't even rate. On a scale of one to ten, this would be a -9. Okay, so he didn't obsess- just trying to distract himself, trying to keep his arousal, that wants to go to other places again, under wraps and no- one should be allowed to look that hot after having been beaten up.
But this is Danny and Danny has never been one to stick to rules- except for when it comes to the job, but Martin doesn't want to touch that subject with a ten- foot- pole, not when they have a whole weekend ahead of them with no work and no missing people to find and he should stop rambling- but of course he looks all hot and steamy and really, he shouldn't think of Danny and sex, at least not now.
Or later in bed.
Bed. Hmm...
Danny. Hmm...
Danny on the bed...
Hmmm...
No!
He mentally slaps himself, tries to focus. Focuses on Danny coming out of the shower, standing in the doorway. Except that he doesn't. A turn of the head and a rustling to his right confirm that Danny is over at his backpack, looking for his boxers- why boxers? They would come off- no, Martin, no.
"How are you?"
Talking is good. And he won't think of what Danny says sometimes when he comes- talking, what a leap, from talking to coming and isn't it surprising that Martin is the one to do all the shouting and Danny is the quieter, more contained one- because that leads to a stiffening of certain muscles and that is not good. And his father would be so proud at having such a strong- willed son- strong- willed when it is about the job, yes, when it comes to Danny, no- and maybe he should have thought about his father earlier because he really needs that cold shower- hopefully it will stay that way-. He forces his mind to focus again, reading from Danny's expression that he just totally spaced out- as it so often happens and Danny is getting used to it- and now the puppy- dog eyes from Hell- though not really Hell, more like the opposite- are directed at him.
He needs to stop drifting off.
Or stop talking to himself.
Or ramble.
Or think about Danny and sex- bad thoughts, bad thoughts and damn, he does it again-.
Maybe he should just shut his brain off.
"I'm sorry."
A shrug, followed by a pained wince. The THE smirk. And all of Martin's resolutions fly out the window. Because that smirk should be forbidden. Or at least he should claim it as his. Not that it would help- and he would have never thought that a smirk could be such a turn- on-.
"It's not like I'm not used to it."
And somehow Martin has missed out on the removal of the towel and how Danny has slipped into his boxers -what a shame-. Now he's switching off the lights- why can't the light be down by the floor so that he'd have to bend over and then Martin could see the boxers stretching over- and then slides under the covers, snuggling close to Martin- and doesn't it figure that Danny wants to snuggle tonight-. Not that Martin can resist the temptation to cuddle with Danny- never.
"Do you need cream?"
"What for?"
"For the bruises."
"Don't forget the rest, Martin."
"And the scrapes and the scratches."
Low chuckle and now Danny knows Martin better than Martin knows himself and that is scary.
"I should have some in my medicine cabinet."
But that would require him getting up and leaving the bed and the cuddling and apparently Danny has the same opinion on that topic, because he just snuggles closer.
"Nah, I'm fine."
If Martin was evil, he would lightly touch the tender chest just to prove Danny wrong. Screw it, he does it anyway.
"Oww, why the hell did you do that for?"
And he feels sorry, he really does.
"Sorry, I just... Sorry."
Danny breathes out slowly.
"That was unfair."
Martin decides that looking chagrined could work. At least it usually does. But of course not this time.
"Don't look at me like that. Not today."
Puppy- dog eyes.
"Martin, not working."
Pout.
"Forget it."
"You want something for that, yes or now?"
Deep sigh that immediately is followed by a suppressed wince.
"Yeah."
Hmm, now he has to get up. The bed's warm and comfy, and the bathroom's not. Usually a tough decision, really, but he has offered it to Danny, knowing that the beat- up man would take him up on it. His own fault. Damn it. But if his boyfriend's well- being is at stake- not really at stake, but Martin likes how it sounds- he will get up at the break of dawn on the coldest day of the year.
"What do I get when I do that?"
But not today. Apparently he is a brat today.
"What do you mean?"
"What do I get if I get up to get the cream for you?"
Such an attractive state.
"Who are you? Martin- the- bratty- 15- year- old?"
Danny would probably have him committed in a moment's notice if he agrees to it now. Probably. And the brat in him wants to test it out. It's not as if Martin's mouth and his brain are connected in any way.
"So what if I am? What do I get?"
Danny looking exasperated is kinda hot, Martin- the- brat decides.
"How about a kick in the ass?"
"You wouldn't want to hurt it."
"Oh, I so would hurt it. As long as it gets you off the trip you are currently on."
"Who says it does?"
And Danny being in that state between annoyed and really pissed usually is something that Martin- the- man tries to avoid. But no so with Martin- the- brat. He is delighted.
"Martin, just get the cream, please."
"Do I get a kiss for that?"
"Will you shut up then?"
"Maybe."
Sigh. Deep sigh. Wince.
"I'll take my chances."
And again, he gets what he wants, giving himself happily over to the kiss. Sometimes acting like the brat works wonders. It's wet, tongue- y, hot in all the right places-
And over. Too soon. No way! He wants more! Maybe a whimper helps.
"There's more where that come from."
-yay-
"But only after you got me the ointment."
He tries a whine.
"And don't pull that, Martin. You act as if it was the end of the world. It's not like I won't kiss you anymore after that."
He knows that.
"Though, if you keep acting like that, I might-"
What does he mean? No more kisses? Nononononono
"I'm out, I'm out. You won."
So, grumbling, Martin gets up, the prospect of no more Danny- kisses far more threatening than the joy of pestering Danny could ever make up for. Plus, if Danny is uncomfortable, then he is a bit of a whine guy and the biggest crank Martin has ever known. And Cranky Danny is no fun, so Martin relents, gets the cream and then goes back to the bedroom, mentally rising to the banter Danny has without a doubt already prepared, plus Martin-
Oh.
Danny's asleep.
Martin suppresses the twinge of disappointment, tells himself that it is for the better, because Danny needs the rest but Martin? Is wide awake and standing in front of his bed, looking dorky- not that he sees himself but he knows what he looks like and he is dorky like Danny has told him so often that he can hear him talking right now even though the real- life version is sleeping away under his covers right now- in boxers and the tube of cream in his hand. Carefully he lies down, watching Danny the whole time to make sure he doesn't wake up and was he really gone that long? But Danny was probably more wiped out than he would have ever cared to admit, plus the beating also took a lot out of him and then the sex- although it was more than that, as it always is-...
If Martin keeps thinking like this, he'll end up blaming himself.
Dork.
Good thing that Danny's a heavy sleeper- though that is putting it mildly-, so Martin has no trouble whatsoever to maneuver quilt and comforter around the two of them and then decides to read a bit. A quick flick of the hand and the room is bathed in darkness except for the light of his bedlamp and this feels domestic. Nice domestic, and when Danny subconsciously he may be dead to the world but would never turn down the opportunity to snuggle up to Martin moves over, Martin feels even more domestic, holding the book in one hand left and stroking Danny's hair and back with the other right and it just is right. This moment is right. This is what he wants.
Been awhile for Martin to feel like that, but it is getting more and more frequent, ever since Danny stepped into his life, and if Martin was a sap, he would get all mushy and sentimental now, but as it is, Martin is just a dork.
Heh.
He keeps stroking and if Danny was awake, he would be practically purring by now, arching into him, getting more of the stroking. He's getting more and more tired, finally deciding to call it a night, marks the place where he stopped reading, puts it on the nightstand, switches the light off and then pulls Danny a bit more comfortably into his arms, so that he can sleep with him in his arms. Danny only gruntles, then pushes his face more into Martin's shoulder. Martin smiles, kisses him on the top of the dark head, then decides that this is what he wants every night for the rest of his life.
Okay, so apparently he is a sap and a dork.
Martin doesn't care, even if his father ever got wind of it, would fire him, as long as Danny gets to keep his job and Martin gets to keep Danny, he doesn't care. Because Danny is what he wants, and even if Martin ever would have to leave the Department- though Jack would fight like a lion for him, he just knows it, because no- one takes someone out of Jack's team without a damned good enough reason and for Jack the fact that two of the guys of his team are sleeping with each other doesn't count as a damned good enough reason-, he could care less about it. He loves his job, he loves what they do, even if there are a lot more grey days than white ones, a lot of cases turned bad instead of good. But what he does isn't about his father anymore. He knows that he is a good agent, he knows that he can be just as good as his father. And Martin realizes that he just stepped out of his father's shadow, that he can stand on his own feet and still be a man that is respected by others. He doesn't need his father anymore.
And isn't that quite the musing at 2am in the morning?
Ah well... At least it was productive...
And he still is a dork. Not that he cares.
-hmm-
Okay, he cares that he's a dork, but there' s nothing he can do about it. At least not now. He'll worry about that tomorrow- yeah, right-.
Slumber my darling, thy mother is near,
Guarding thy dreams from all terror and fear.
Sunlight has past and the twilight has gone,
Slumber my darling, the night's coming on.
Sweet visions attend thy sleep,
Fondest, dearest to me,
While others their revels keep,
I will watch over thee.
Slumber, my darling, the birds are at rest,
The wandering dews by the flowers are caressed,
Slumber, my darling, I'll wrap thee up warm,
And pray that the angels will shield thee from harm.
Slumber my darling, till morn's blushing ray
Brings to the world the glad tidings of day:
Fill the dark void with thy dreamy delight--
Slumber, thy mother will guard thee to-night.
Thy pillow shall sacred be
From all outward alarms;
Thou, thou are the world to me
In thine innocent charms.
Slumber, my darling, the birds are at rest,
The wandering dews by the flowers are caressed,
Slumber, my darling, I'll wrap thee up warm,
And pray that the angels will shield thee from harm.
(Alisson Krauss and YoYo Ma- Slumber my Darling)