To DD or Not to DD
Fandom: CSI:NY
Author: Kimmychu
Rating: FRM (it may go up later)
Pairing: Danny/Flack, Danny/Mac
Content Warning: Cracktasticness, odd body changes, language. Did I mention cracktasticness?
Spoilers: Set after 'Fair Game', so spoilers for any episode previous to that
Summary: After a freak laboratory accident at CSI headquarters, Danny is cursed (or blessed, depending on how you see things) with very unusual … add-ons. Inspired by a forum comment: "Danny is the show's DD breasts."
Disclaimer: Nope, none of the characters belong to me. What a shame. I would treat them oh so well. They have no idea what they're missing.
Chapter 5
Flack had a very special saying for situations like these.
"What the friggedy fuckity friggin' FUCKIN' FUUUUUUUUCK!"
Shocked was a major understatement in describing how Flack was feeling.
Danny sat upright on the couch, hands fidgeting and running up and down his arms frenetically, eyes darting from side to side in the predictable fight or flight behaviour. Under the bulky CSI coat, he was wearing one of those black tank tops he loved so much, and loose, grey pajama trousers that hung low on his hips. Normally, Danny's tank tops fitted just right, but the considerable breasts that'd taken the place of his flat pectorals distended the one he was wearing to the point it drew upwards and exposed his belly.
Even in its bewildered state, Flack's mind managed to note Danny's abdomen and chest were still baby-smooth and utterly hairless, as well as his hands and face. Even his feet were. Didn't make sense Danny would shave his face at a time like this anyway. A muscle in Flack's face twitched. When he got out of the hospital Danny complained so much about his bad hair condition, Flack had fetched him to the closest barber to get everything shaved off his head. Danny's head was now sporting a full scalp of spiky hair. In fact, it looked more thick and luxurious than it'd ever been. Another muscle in Flack's face twitched.
He was going to forever think back to this night as The Night He Went Into the Fucked Up Twilight Zone and Found His Best Friend with Hot DD-Sized Boobs. And he wasn't exaggerating at all by putting those into the category of hot.
His eyes inevitably strayed downwards to Danny's chest. On an average-sized woman, those breasts would be humongous. She'd be a total freak with the power to make everyone faint dead away with horror. However, on Danny's build, they were … perfect. They weren't the appalling, fake ones that looked like stone-hard basketballs so common in porn magazines. They were the kind that melted Flack's whole body into an ecstatic, gooey mass, the kind that made even the coldest son of a bitch drop on his knees with awe and adoration.
Flack's brain screamed at him to hold Danny and console the distraught guy.
His mouth had other ideas.
"Danny … I know you've been going through rough times, buddy, but - but … you didn't have to do THIS." Flack was mentally slamming his forehead into a brick wall over and over even before the last word left his lips. Correction; he was going to forever think back to this night as The Night He Went Into the Fucked Up Twilight Zone and Found His Best Friend with Hot DD-Sized Boobs AND Made It a Gazillion Times Worse With a Dumbass Comment.
Danny's ruddy eyes were so wide Flack could see the whites of his eyes all around the blue irises. Danny's face turned deep scarlet.
"I DIDN'T GO FOR A BOOB JOB, YOU ASSHOLE!"
Flack grimaced, clambering away just in time to avoid being konked in the skull by a standard ceramic flower pot.
"THEY GREW OVERNIGHT! GREW! GRRRREEEEEEEEW!"
Flack scrambled to his feet, arms up in a placating stance. Whoa, a hormonal, hysterical Danny was a petrifying, unstable Danny.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! That was a really stupid comment!" Flack cringed on impulse, eyes squeezed shut, anticipating another lethal Weapon of Flack Destruction aimed at him. Ten seconds passed. Flack cracked a eye open.
Oh, man. A hysterical Danny wasn't scary.
A crying one was.
Danny was hunched over, face buried in his hands, feet on top of each other. Lean shoulders shook with each muted sob. A broken arm couldn't make Danny cry. Falling down a flight of stairs as a kid couldn't do it. Not even getting bashed in the back with a baseball bat during a perp chase did it.
He did. Great going, Flack. Wonderful pal he was.
Flack warily tiptoed over the shower of glass wedges on the floor. He resettled himself beside Danny. Was Danny going to punch him again if Flack touched him? Only one way to find out. Flack draped one muscular arm across Danny's trembling shoulders, inwardly thankful the other man didn't push him away.
"I'm sorry, really, I am." Flack pulled Danny sideways onto him, propping the shorter man's head on his shoulder. Danny kept his face obscured in his hands, but Flack felt him nuzzle his head against his shoulder. "Shh, it's okay." They remained in that posture for some time; Flack ruffling Danny's hair continually, Danny nestling into his shoulder and chest, sobs growing fainter.
"I'm scared, Don." Danny's voice was husky and weak. He dragged his hands away, winding his fingers into the collar of his coat. "I dunno how this happened to me."
"We'll figure somethin' out. We always do." Flack saw that Danny's feet were bare. He nudged Danny gently in the side. "C'mon. Let's go to the bedroom. We'll clean this mess up later." Danny merely nodded, standing up along with Flack.
Flack made sure Danny didn't step on any of the broken glass, holding tightly to the other detective's forearm. Flack was disturbed by how thin Danny was, and how he seemed to be carrying him more than Danny was walking on his own. It was really hitting him now what a grim situation this was. Danny's head was beginning to loll a bit as Flack opened the bedroom door and laid him on his side on the queen-sized bed. Flack didn't dare to remove the coat; the last thing he wanted to do was upset Danny again.
"Have you eaten anything today?" Danny minutely shook his head. "Yesterday?" Danny shook his head again. Parking himself heavily onto the bed near the other man, Flack took out his cel phone and punched a number.
"I'm orderin' Chinese. The takeout down the street okay?"
"Thought you already got Chinese takeout for me." Danny wasn't one to easily forget the particulars. Flack smirked.
"Heh. I didn't. Figured you'd open the door if I said so, ya Chinese food freak."
Flack was infinitely pleased at Danny's diminutive smile. There was hope after all.
OooooooooooooooooooooooooO
The prawn cheong fan looked appetizing. Danny silently chewed on a piece of siew mai while he observed Flack adeptly pluck some of it with a pair of wooden chopsticks and stick it in his mouth.
No one would ever guess at first impression, but Danny was a connoisseur of Chinese cuisine. There was even less of a chance anyone would guess he was also able to converse in rudimentary Chinese. One of the perks of having had an Asian girlfriend or three, he thought. He deemed many Asian women to be beautiful; maybe it was the idea of connecting to someone from an exotic nation he found so appealing. Regrettably, the last turned out to be a total psychobitch who ended up eloping with an old, rich geezer twenty years her senior. Heh, you win some, you lose some.
Flack, on the other hand, couldn't put up with Chinese food. Or so he thought anyway, until Danny blackmailed him into going to a Chinese restaurant in downtown Manhattan the first year they befriended each other. The tall detective was hooked to dim sum and stir-fried noodles ever since. As well as pretty Asian waitresses.
Ordinarily, Danny could devour a plate of fried vermicelli, a whole lot of dim sum and another plate of bak choi all by himself. Tonight, he could barely eat more than a few mouthfuls. The double weights on his chest was effectively killing whatever appetite he had. So this was how women with gigantic breasts felt. His back and neck ached like crazy.
"So, talk." Flack's blue eyes were piercing in the diffused glow emanating from the ceiling light above the dining table. "Startin' from Wednesday."
Danny placed his chopsticks on his plate. "Wednesday … yeah, that was gym day."
"You went to the gym? Even after the doctor told ya to relax and not do any strenuous activity?" Flack's neutral expression didn't change, but Danny knew Flack wasn't happy with that.
"Whaaat? I was in bed for nearly a week! I needed to geddout and move. Ya know, pumps, treadmill, yaddayadda."
Flack made a disapproving face. "Good old walking isn't good enough?"
Danny sighed. "Look, you wanna hear what I gotta say or what?" he asked resignedly.
Flack made a zipping motion across his tightened lips, then beckoned Danny to carry on.
"So, Wednesday, went to the gym. Came back here straight away after that." Danny fingered the long bandage plastered across the top of his right hand. "Felt really tired, so I took a shower and napped. Woke up 'bout a couple a' hours later. Still felt tired, went back to sleep some more."
Flack was frowning, tapping his fingers methodically on the table. His stare never wavered.
"Think I slept all the way past Thursday into Friday." Flack's fingers stopped tapping. "Was like I couldn't get outta bed. Every time I opened my eyes, I felt like crap. Chest was sore like a bitch. I thought I was comin' down with some flu." Danny kept his gaze on the leftover food, evading Flack's questioning eyes. "Went to the kitchen for some water, showered again to wake myself up or somethin'. Didn't work, so I went to bed again."
Danny squirmed visibly in his seat. "Slept some more … woke up this morning and -" - his voice choked up into a murmur - "There they were."
"Coffee table?"
Danny's head whipped up at the question. " … I kinda … lost it." His mouth contorted into a narrow, upside-down U.
Flack exhaled loudly. "Danny." He placed a big hand over Danny's bandaged one. "We gotta tell Mac abo -"
Danny immediately shot to his feet, his chair toppling to the floor. "Are you NUTS! If Mac finds out about this, I'm done for!" Danny paled at the sudden, horrifying image of Lindsay and the rest of the team laughing their heads off at him. The humiliation was unthinkable.
Flack was trying very, very hard not to look at Danny's ample breasts. Damn, they did look fantastic in a black tank top. "Listen to me, 'kay!" His hands landed on Danny's shoulders. "This. Is. Serious. You remember what you told Stella that day?"
When Danny had woken up at the hospital, Stella'd taken a statement from him regarding the explosion and how it might have transpired. All he recalled telling her was having a bad night, cleaning up some sections of the new lab he was working in … Flack calling him … and the weird blue substance -
"Oh shit." Danny's mouth was now in an 'O' shape.
"Yeah, oh shit. We gotta tell Mac about this … 'cos if that blue stuff's what changed you -" Flack bit his lip.
"We're talkin' 'bout one fuckin' dangerous contagion here."