A/N: This is my first venture to D/F – the most natural pairing ever on any CSI show. And hey, it's slash! So man-smex ahead.
My partner-in-crime, Roselle also had a part in writing this one and the sequel (that will come later). Just read and review.
Be nice. I burn easy. Thanks.
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THE TAPE
© CATE
Don Flack, Jr. slipped the key into the lock and entered the apartment. A motorbike leaned on one side of the room; a pool table dominating the den. The plasma TV was off and there were no unread messages on the machine. Actually, the place seemed empty.
He wasn't in his own apartment. He had a tough case; frustrating and very tiring. In days like that, all he wanted to do was to curl up beside his best friend and lover after a good round (or four) of hot horizontal tango. Not to mention, that best friend and lover happens to be a man.
"Danny?" he said to the empty room. He peeled off his coat and removed his shoes. "Dan?" he repeated. No answer.
Odd, he thought. CSI Danny Messer headed home early that day after a slam-dunk case. He even said that he'd be waiting for the homicide detective if ever he needed to come over.
All the lights were off except for the bedside lamp in the bedroom. Flack made his way over there and called out again. Silence. He sat down heavily and started to loosen his tie when suddenly there was a voice.
"Stop," it wasn't loud enough to be a shout but it startled Flack nonetheless. The voice was coming from the doorway but before he could look, the voice continued, "Just stay where you are. Pretend that you are alone." Danny. "Pretend that nobody's watchin' ya. And no sound but your breathing."
Flack was too tired and drained to argue so he did what he was told. "And then what?" he asked, his eyelids started to close.
There was a pregnant pause for some seconds. Flack was about to sigh and stand up to grab Danny when he was stopped again with words. "Imagine…" Danny's deep voice echoed in the room. Flack was standing up, facing the vanity mirror. He could barely see himself in the dark. "Imagine an audience," he said. "A roomful of blue eyes. All of them looking at you."
He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, blue eyes started back at him. He knew that it was his own but for some reason, that sent a very nice sensation down to his groin. Danny then said, "Pick one member of the audience an' maintain eye contact her…"
"Him," Flack corrected.
"Him." The detective's trousers began to tighten the more he followed his lover's orders. A full minute passed until Danny's voice seductively said, "Strip for him."
Flack tensed and almost backed out of the activity. He was comfortable with his body – even proud of it. But he was uneasy with what Danny probably had in mind. Yet he did it anyway. He loosened his red tie, the silk slithering to the floor like a stream of blood. He could see that he was panting. He then pulled his shirt from his pants, unbuttoning them carefully.
"He wants a show, Don," Danny almost whispered. "But you can only see his eyes… looking back at you."
The next discarded item of clothing was the white striped shirt. And then the undershirt. The silver of his necklace was bright even in the lack of light.
When he was unbuckling his belt, Danny stopped him again. "Wait!" Flack's pants were painful and his cock was starting to leak pre-cum. He couldn't remember the last time he came close to climaxing just with Danny's voice. "Lick your fingers and massage your nipples. Pinch them if you want. He wants them hard."
At the first contact of his own saliva-moistened fingers, Flack moaned loud and long. He imagined the wetness was coming from Danny's hot mouth, tongue teasing the tip. His right hand fingered his treasure trail as his left hand was busy. He pinched his nipple, varying in pressure every time, picturing the pain coming from Danny's teeth scraping the oversensitive skin. "Danny…" he moaned as the pad of his middle finger circled the very tip of his right nipple. At every stroke, he came closer to orgasm.
"Yes?" the man said. He sounded closer this time.
"Your mouth," Flack managed to say amid the onslaught of pleasure he was putting himself through. He couldn't take it anymore so he yanked open his fly and fisted his iron-hard cock. "So hot…"
"Lie back," Danny ordered firmly. Flack slipped off his remaining clothing and slid up the bed until his head was propped on the pillows. He could still see his reflection on the mirror.
Flack was obediently continuing what he was told, giving his other nipple the same attention from his right hand. Danny gazed at his lover on his bed, naked, left hand around the base of his impressive erection, right hand massaging a pink nipple. Flack's eyes were closed and puffs of air were coming out from his parted lips. The CSI had to stroke his own boxers-clad erection to relieve some of the pressure.
"Stroke yourself," Danny said, almost panting. And Flack wasted no time. His left hand flew up and down his shaft, the rosy crown leaking a clear liquid. His feet were flat on the bed, knees wide apart. He felt very exposed but that only served to make him hotter.
Soon, he was pulling at his nipples, biting his lower lip, his face a mask of pure pleasure. He was moaning incessantly Danny's name. "Oh fuck! Danny… Dan…"
"Yes? I'm here," Danny said casually. His right hand was keeping his own orgasm at bay.
"Ooooh fuuuuuuuck," Flack cried out at the friction. His hand was making moist noises and was wet with pre-cum. "Fuck… Danny," he panted as his hand sped to a blur. His hips were meeting his strokes.
"So hot, Don," Danny cooed. "Yes, that's it. Who are you thinking of?"
"You, damn it," Flack screamed out. His right hand left his abused nipple and cupped his balls, rolling the tight orbs. "Yes… yes, oh yes… 'm close," he said, breaths coming faster and faster. "Fuckme, fuckme… fuck me, Danny," his eyes were tightly shut and he wanted to cum so badly. "Please…"
Danny almost couldn't contain himself. But he it wasn't time for him to orgasm yet. "I'm here, Don…" he said. "Watching you."
Flack slicked his fingers with his fluid and tentatively touched his hole. Numerous times he saw his cock slide in and out of Danny's asshole and he wondered how it must've felt to be bottom. He spread his legs wider as he worked one of his fingers in, his pre-cum acting as lubricant.
His hand sped up again, putting him on the brink. In no time, he had two fingers in his hole searching for that one gland. "Oh fuck me, Danny," he screamed, hips thrusting up as he found that little gland.
"Damn it, Don…" Danny moaned out at the sight of Flack pleasuring himself. He imagined how good Flack's penis feels way deep inside him, stroking his spot every time. Flack's wide girth and impressive length burned going in but he didn't want it to pull out. "That's it… it feels so good." He could tell when Flack hit the gland – his hips would spasm and he would bite his lip.
Soon, Flack developed a rhythm between the fingers in his ass and his hands around his cock. But that didn't last long. "Danny… oh Danny… aaaaannnngggghhhh…"
Pearly white liquid burst from Flack's cock, onto his abdomen and chest. He tightened almost painfully around his fingers but it felt like he was free falling from the top of a cliff and onto a bright carefree place. His vision turned white behind his eyelids and he must've blacked out for a few moments.
As he pulled his fingers out, it brushed once more against his prostate gland, eliciting a satisfied moan from him. He laid there… spent and sated, streaks of white cum on his chest hair and belly. His limbs felt heavy but he wasn't complaining.
Flack felt the bed dip and a hot mouth latch on his nipple, sucking it clean. "Hmmm…" Danny moaned as the combined stimuli of the silk bedding against his leaking erection and Flack's taste in his mouth threatened to cause him completion.
"Danny…" Flack whispered, too exhausted to talk. They kissed deeply.
"My porn star," Danny teased, licking Flack's lips.
The taller detective tensed. "What?"
Danny looked up and blushed. Biting his lip and avoiding Flack's eyes, he admitted, "I taped your little show." He half-expected Flack's fist colliding this his face.
But instead, Flack asked with a smile, "Is it still on?" Danny nodded shyly. "Good," the homicide detective said. And then he flipped them over.
"DON!" Danny screamed as Flack swallowed his penis to the hilt in one go. His hands went into Flack's hair and he tried to thrust up. "Fuck… fuck…FUCK!"
Flack started to hum around the sensitive appendage, tongue swirled on the underside of the head. Danny went berserk. Flack's fingers, still slippery from his earlier activities, slithered down to Danny's asshole.
He pushed one finger and then two to the knuckles. He had no trouble finding Danny's special spot. "Don, Don," his name a constant chorus on Danny's lips. As he tried to slip in a third finger, Danny started to shudder. Flack did the one sure-fire thing that could make Danny cum. He tongued the little hole on the mushroom head of Danny's cock.
Danny's hips cleared the bed, coming wordlessly, punching the mattress beneath him with his fists. Flack swallowed every single drop. He settled himself snugly beside Danny until the other man came back down to earth.
"That was intense," Flack said, stroking Danny's side.
Still catching his breath, Danny just nodded.
"Should we watch the video?" Flack asked, wrapping them in the blanket. Danny reached towards the lamp and produced a little remote control. He switched off the camera and flipped the light switch.
"Tomorrow…" Danny mumbled, burying his face in Flack's neck. "My turn. I promise."
11/21/07
