Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, everything belongs to CBS, I just borrow them from time to time
Rated: M for slash and language
Author's Notes: I took a short break from my other story to write this one before I forgot about the storyline. It's going to be a short one.
He loved the long nights spent at the bar after a week's worth of work . He enjoyed sitting there just talking about anything and everything. He caught Danny's knowing glances. The one's he saw all too often, but never quite near enough. He loved the winks, the ones that teased him about what was going to happen when they went home together. He loved listening to Danny ramble on and on. He liked getting lost in his baby blues, and he loved following his lips with every word he spoke.
He was willing to go the moment Danny started to rub his foot up and down his leg underneath the booth. He really enjoyed it when Danny would lean in extra close to whisper how badly he wanted him. He loved the times Danny would switch sides of the booth to be closer to him. That's usually when he started running his hand over his thigh. That's when he became hungry for the other man.
He couldn't stand it when Danny knew he had won, because that's when Danny would fondle him underneath the table. At that point, Flack was ready to take him right then and there. Danny would look at him through those same baby blues, except now they would be glazed over with lust. His lips would now be seducing him, and Flack would be imagining what those lips would be doing when they got home.
It was their simple game of cat and mouse. Danny was the mouse always tempting the cat to come and get him. Flack would give in to Danny who was always bordering drunk. Not that he was sober himself. Danny would lead the cat outside. That's the part Flack loved the most. He would corner the mouse, and take him by surprise. He would let him know that it's not too late, he still had a shot at winning.
That's the part Danny loved. Flack would pin him against the wall, and crush his lips with his own. The kisses on these nights always bordered desperate. But what they never lacked, was passion and lust. Both men hungry for each other. Neither man would have their fill. Not in this game. It was only just beginning.
Danny would hail a cab, just like always. It was as if these nights were written out, and these men were the actors. They played their role perfectly every time. Neither man faltered, or missed a beat. They had it down.
The cab ride would always be the worst. The men were heated, and ready for "playtime." Most nights the cab driver was too slow, or maybe it was the shots they had taken earlier that led them into the backseat of the cab, doing exactly what they do best.
Flack was just getting to his favorite part now. Danny would take control of him, and strip him down. Flack loved the head, but more importantly Flack loved Danny's tongue. His tongue tormented and teased, and yet somehow gives him everything he wanted. Danny had him; the game was over. Danny had his manhood in his mouth, every inch of it, and he was about to take him over the edge. At least that's how Flack remembered it. The alcohol induced haze, always made it just a fuzzy memory. Danny knew when he had him oh so close, because Danny would start using his Italian.
Nights like these were the kind of nights when the sex was raw, passionate, and undeniable. Danny gave the head, but Flack always returned the favor. Flack had his fun teasing him while he was stripping him down. But once the man was naked, he wasted no time. He would always make sure Danny was good and ready. Except tonight, the teasing was rough, and he couldn't wait any longer.
Danny knew what he was supposed to do. He knew where Don kept the lube, and he knew exactly when he wanted it. Flack would coat himself, and usually Danny too. But tonight, he pushed right in. He took Danny by surprise; it caused him to scream. Don would thrust in and out. He would keep a firm grip on Danny's member, and he always moved in sync with his own thrusts. The faster he went, the faster his hand went. It amazed Danny, no matter how drunk he was, he was always coordinated.
The only time Flack lost the coordination was when he was ready to cum. His hand slowed down to a teasingly, slow, painful pace. His cock in and out, at a rate directly opposite of his hand. Flack would cum, and then, then was when his hand moved. He would bring him so close. It was always torture the few seconds between his hand leaving, and his mouth finishing him off.
Nights like these were Flack's favorite. He couldn't figure out why, but he had an idea.
"I love you" were the last words Danny always muttered before collapsing in Flack's arms.