Title:
Breakfast of Champions
Summary:
Danny should have known better than to wake Flack up so early.
Flack/Danny.
Disclaimer:
The names of all characters contained herein are the property of
Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television, CBS and Alliance
Atlantis. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are
used here without permission.
A/N:
Lyrics from the song "Goodnight and Go" by Imogen Heap. My first
Flack/Danny fic, written on request for twincy on LJ.
Rating:
M
Breakfast of Champions
"It's
impossible to ignore you
Must
you make me laugh so much
It's
bad enough we get along so well."
-Imogen
Heap
Danny shifted against Flack but didn't try to get away. Flack's hands glided along Danny's arms, hard chest pressed against his lover's and breath warm against his neck. Flack's fingers lightly caressed the curve of Danny's hip. Their attention was completely focused on each other, blue gaze to blue gaze, but when Flack slowly moved to press open mouth kisses down Danny's chest, Danny clutched at the bedsheets, his lips parting and eyes fluttering shut.
He felt Flack grip his hips and Danny saw him grin; he knew that Flack knew how much his touch affected him, and Danny was glad for it. Danny wanted to ask what Flack was doing with the jar of cinnamon and the bottle of honey but had a pretty idea what his intentions must be. Flack squeezed the bottle, his fingers curved around the silly plastic bear as he poured it directly onto Danny's straining erection, not seeming to care that he was making a mess on the sheets.
"Sweet," Flack said after he took a long lick, and Danny tangled his hands in Flack's hair after he saw the smug smile. They were close together, as they had been for the last three years, and neither of them could think of any other place they'd rather be.
The cinnamon was added to the honey. The logical part of Danny's mind wondered if this is healthy at all, to have honey and cinnamon spread upon one's private parts in this way. Then Flack leaned forward and licked the spice with a lazy brush of his tongue that made questions of sanitary practices involving food stuffs not so important. Flack stopped his teasing and began to lick in earnest while Danny moaned and writhed as a result of his ministrations.
If he was honest with himself, Danny only had himself to blame. After all, he was the one who woke Flack up early and asked if he wanted breakfast before heading to work. He should have realized that he was the only thing Flack would want to eat bad enough to get out of bed so early.
finis.