THE LESS YOU'LL SEE
NOTES: Now that I've satisfied my inner fan girl for now, it's time to get to the show that these guys have been talking about. You'll see some familiar faces in this chapter moving forward. Feedback is more than welcome, so feel free to drop me a note in the comments section or at ficamaze .
On a special note, I know I mentioned Dylan Rhodes was the golden boy back in Jack's high school, back when I had different plans for him in the third chapter. But you know how stories take lives of their own (and besides, the original NYSM storyline was more than good enough), so let me apologize and say that I will be taking him out of the first storyline so he can play the role he was originally meant to all along – the bad cop.
The usual drill: I cannot stress these points enough, so I will put these at the start of every chapter:
This is primarily a Lover's Death story.
I do not own anyone (i.e., characters, etc) or anything (i.e., lines, scenes, concepts, etc) from the Now You See Me series. Absolutely no copyright infringement intended. I really am just a hopeless fan girl refreshing my feed for more stories about Lover's Death and Hermit+Priestess (daily, twice a day, might I add).
Some events in this story are inspired by my own experiences, and should you see yourself in the story, then let me give you a high five, but that honestly was not my intention.
Should anyone be willing to beta read the magic technicalities in future chapters, then raise your hand so we can talk. And can more of you please share awesome Lover's Death and Hermit+Priestess stories? We would all love that.
January 2008: Opening Night
The minute they got back on January 2nd, it really was show time.
THE BANK OF THE EAST SCHOLARSHIP FUND IS A SHAM.
IT TAKES ONLY TEN SCHOLARS EVERY YEAR WHEN IT IS CAPABLE OF TAKING AT LEAST TWO HUNDRED.
The first time The Four Horsemen perused the blueprints to find out where the remaining scholarship funds go, they were sickened. The Board of Directors didn't even nearly try to hide their excesses: small houses in prime spots of the country, new Rolexes flashed during the annual meetings, endless club and spa memberships, thousand-dollar anniversary dinners, all in their social media accounts.
YOUR MAIN AUDIENCE ON JANUARY 20th: THE PAST AND PRESENT SCHOLARS OF THE BANK OF THE EAST.
RETURN WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY THEIRS.
The Eye had a carefully laid out plan which they were to follow to the dot, each requiring their different set skills – particularly Merritt's, Henley's, and Jack's. It was clear that Danny's showmanship was needed for the big show, and not for the preparatory work, and more than once was he forced to wait for his two friends and his boyfriend while they were out accomplishing the impossible checklist he had prepared for them. It was never any less of a relief when they came back, giving each other high fives with big smiles on their faces.
On top of the preparations, they still had the last show they were hired to do back in October. It was flawless, as they had planned, which turned in their favor, because the show turned out to be for the 60th birthday of none other than Arthur Tressler, the school's biggest benefactor, who was so impressed with the four that he took them under his wing. He wanted to make them stars, he said, which is why he arranged to have their first show moved from the school auditorium of Octa to the biggest theater in town, making sure it was packed by hiring countless seat warmers.
The news that the school's biggest benefactor was now also the benefactor of The Four Horsemen was sensational. The local school organ talked about it, the local media talked about it. Everything was happening so fast, and it was all so much all at once, and it somehow made Danny nervous. There were so many variables that he could lose control of the situation, and he couldn't have that, he was the leader, he was responsible for the other three, he can't afford to lose control…
"Don't make me force you into calming down, asswipe," Merritt's voice broke into his train of thought. The mentalist plopped down next to him, eyeing the mess of cards on the table in front of them.
Danny shook his head. "There are too many uncontrollable factors."
"Oh, you only saw them now?" Merritt said with a sarcastic grin. "Welcome to the plan, Danny boy."
The showman ran his hand through the short bristles on his head. "You're really not helping."
"What do you want me to say, Daniel? That everything will be okay? Everything will go perfectly, and according to their plans?" Merritt said in a somewhat gentler tone. "I wish I knew that, but even I'm not that good."
The corners of Danny's mouth twitched. "You aren't?"
The older boy groaned. "Don't make me say that again."
"I heard it: even I'm not that good. Did the great Merritt McKinney just say he wasn't good?"
"No, you didn't."
"Oh, yes, I did."
"Do I hear the babies fighting?" Henley's voice interrupted their squabbling as she entered their apartment with a bag full of takeout.
"Where's Jack?" Danny asked automatically.
Henley rolled her eyes, setting the bags down on the counter. "He's out taking a call."
"A call?" Danny parroted with a frown.
"Danny, can you not? He's with you, but he's still entitled to one telephone call a month, isn't he?" Henley said sarcastically. Danny didn't seem to catch it.
"Would you know who he was talking to?"
"Nope, no idea," Henley said a little too quickly, enough for Merritt to know that she was lying. "It's probably just his mom or his sister. He mentioned Lara's birthday coming up."
Pacified at the idea, Danny shrugged and stood up. "I'm taking a shower before dinner if Jack looks for me."
"And why would he—oh, never mind," Merritt groaned again as Danny shot them both a wink before disappearing into his and Jack's shared bedroom. He immediately turned to Henley. "Lula called Jack, didn't she? And you heard a bit of the first part?"
Henley nodded miserably. "She drunk called Jack, by the sound of it. I'm not sure what they're talking about, but I didn't think Danny should know just yet. It's not my thing to tell."
"Well, I hope Jack-o tells Danny boy soon. We can't afford to go on show with distractions in Jack's mind."
Merritt was disappointed that night, however, when Jack came in, looking almost perfectly normal, acting like nothing had happened. To the kid's credit, he successfully managed to not answer the question on who called him, misdirecting Danny to another answer instead. It wasn't until hours before the actual show that the truth about the phone call came out.
"Jack?" came a female's voice by the threshold of their backstage dressing room door.
It was like Jack had seen a ghost when he turned to face Lula, who was looking timid and hesitant by the door. Merritt winced when he observed Danny watching them back and forth, his eyes narrowing as he began to piece together the pieces of the puzzle.
"It was her?" Danny asked calmly, his voice betraying nothing. When neither of them answered, he cleared his throat. "Well, we'll give you two some privacy."
"Danny—"
"Be backstage in ten minutes, and for the love of God, don't be late," Danny said choppily before stalking out of the dressing room. Merritt and Henley followed suit.
"You didn't tell him I called?" Lula asked gently.
"I didn't think it was the right time, with the show and all. So thanks for ruining it," Jack said bitterly. "What do you want, Lula?"
Lula shook her head. "Nothing, not any more. It's… clear to me now, that there's no going back."
"Wasn't it always?"
She shrugged. "You know these things come in stages, right? Maybe I was in denial for a long, long time. That if we had some time apart, we'd eventually realize that we are still good together, after all."
Jack's eyes softened as he looked at her. "I always thought we are. You're still my best girl, Lula."
She gave him a watery smile. "I know. I better be."
He chuckled. "I'd hug you, but for the benefit of not being caught in a compromising situation, I'll save it for a better time. I hope that's okay."
She shook her head, smiling. "You really don't want to lose him, don't you?"
"Oh, hell no," he said with a shudder, taking a look at his watch. "Hey, I better go. I'll see you after the show, yeah?"
It was hard to tell in the dim backstage lighting, but Jack thought that Danny's eyes and nose were rimmed with red as the showman fixed him with a blank stare. They barely had five minutes before the curtain rose, but Jack didn't care: he wrapped his arms around Danny and brought their lips together in an honest, all-consuming kiss. For a few seconds, Danny did not respond and Jack was starting to panic, but he eventually felt Danny relax in his hold and respond enthusiastically, running his fingers through his hair and tugging slightly.
They broke apart when they heard the announcer's cue. Jack grinned at him and brushed a hand across his cheek. "You're up, man. We need our leader."
Danny said nothing, but he never took his eyes off Jack until he was fully lit onstage, at which he turned to the roaring crowd. "Good evening, New York!" he said into his lapel microphone, his voice booming all around them. "We are The Four Horsemen. Let me introduce you to my friends: Merritt McKinney, the master of mentalism!"
Merritt jogged to join Danny onstage, saying once he took his place, "Please welcome Henley Reeves, our beautiful escape artist!"
Henley came out, winking at the crowd and standing next to Merritt. "New York, say hello to our master sleight of hand, Jack Wilder!"
"And where would we be without our master showman?" Jack drawled as he took his place next to Danny. "Daniel Atlas, New York!"
They were given an hour and a half to perform, but it felt to them like no time at all to any of them. Merritt kicked off the show with a round of mass hypnotism, getting completely random members of the audience do all sorts of crazy tricks and impersonations. A water tank was brought out for Henley's death-defying "failed" piranha escape act, and Jack followed suit with his slicing card tricks and holding up more members of the audience onstage of their personal effects. The audience loved each and every one of their tricks.
If Danny were to think about it, he didn't have the best tricks up his sleeve: he had two friends and the boyfriend who did, and that was okay. He bore the name "the showman" with pride, because – after all – people did look for a good show, and he prided himself on being able to give it to them, with his plethora of well-practiced parlor tricks and (more than) a little help from his friends… and Jack, of course.
"Now for our final act—" Danny's words were met with an outcry of 'boos' and catcalls. He shrugged apologetically.
Jack laughed. "Sorry guys, we'll miss you too. So for our final act, we wanted to make sure that it will be huge."
"Tonight, we are doing something never before seen on any stage holding street magicians!" Henley supplied.
"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight – we are going to rob a bank!" Danny cried out.
Cheers and laughter filled the audience, and Danny drank in the adoration and attention. This moment was the biggest high he ever felt in his life, and nothing could possibly top this—he saw Jack to his right, stealing a glance at him with a smile on his face, and he backtracked: make that the second biggest high in his life.
"To add a little twist here, we're going to rob your chosen bank!" Danny continued, gesturing to the other three with fish bowls full of small lottery balls. "In those three bowls are section numbers, row numbers, and seat numbers, and we're getting you to pick them for us! Merritt, if you could ask an audience member to please pick a section number…"
He held up all three numbers for the entire audience to see. "Section B, Row 5, Seat 13! Who is this lucky person?" A dark-haired man with a French accent stood up with a smile, as though unable to believe that he was chosen. "Ah, there he is! Sir, can you please confirm that in fact this is your seat number?"
The man nodded, saying a flustered "Yes!" into the microphone given to him.
"Can you tell us your name and your chosen bank, sir?"
"My name is Étienne Forcier and my chosen bank is the Bank of the East Scholarship Fund," the man said, not skipping a beat.
Danny groaned, "Oh, a scholarship fund. Couldn't it have been a corrupt financial institution that could afford to lose truckloads of money?" The audience laughed at this. "But, a deal's a deal. Étienne, sir, please join us onstage."
As their chosen audience member jogged up to join them, with Merritt ready to receive him, Danny cast a glance at the other two, and gave them a tiny wink. "Before we end the night with our final act, there's someone we would like to thank," he started.
"When we signed on for a show, we had no idea it was to celebrate the rich, rich, rich life of this wonderful man," Henley said in an innocently sweet tone.
"Rich, rich, rich indeed," Jack supplied, causing some female voices in the group to screech. Danny felt a secret pang of possessiveness at that. "We literally could not have made it here without him. He is our friend and benefactor, ladies and gentlemen: Mr. Arthur Tressler!" Arthur Tressler stood up, waved around the cheering crowd, and accepted the microphone handed to him.
"Art, we dedicate this final act to you, and please note that your name is prominently displayed on top of ours," Henley told him with a smile.
"If you're as good as you think you are, dear girl, that won't be necessary for much longer," came his heavily accented and no-nonsense reply.
Étienne Forcier was smiling onstage with slightly glazed eyes, and Danny knew that it was time to get the show on the road. This was part of what they were preparing for, everything that brought them together, and all they had to do now was sit back and give the audience a good show. They played the audience up exactly as how they planned it: wondering, waiting, speculating, before – finally – wowing, shocking, amazing when the cash in the "safe" Étienne was in started spinning around in a vortex, sucked through a thick pipe, and finally, showered specifically into the VIP section of the theater, which contained their "special guests".
People were going wild, screaming as they scooped up as much money as they could. Bouncers had to keep the nearby audience members from jumping into the VIP section, and from his seat near the front, they could see Arthur Tressler laughing and clapping loudly, leading a standing ovation as the four linked hands onstage.
"We are The Four Horsemen, good night!" they screamed simultaneously as they gave their final bow.
The waiting was the hardest part, according to the blueprints, but they were fully assured that the police would have nothing on them. The next day, all four of them were in the hotel room Tressler had provided them for the night: Merritt was reading a book on the couch, Henley was upstairs, double-checking her bags and possessions, Jack was reclined on a single seat, his feet propped up on the table, and Danny was by the window, playing with his cards and – occasionally – glancing around the room.
"Danny, would you please stop fussing and sit your cute butt down?" Jack called out from his seat, eyes still closed.
Danny scoffed. "That's rich, given you have no proof as to whether my butt is indeed cute or not."
Merritt looked up sharply from his book. "Wait, you've been together almost three months and pining for each other for a little more than a year, and you're telling me…"
"Drop it, Mer," Jack said heatedly and lazily at the same time.
The mentalist shook his head and went back to reading his book. "You two really need couples' therapy. I'll take ten bucks for it, see if you can't get enough of each other after I'm done with you."
"FREEZE!" came a loud voice from the other side of the entrance door before it was kicked open by several men with guns. Danny's eyebrow raised slightly – FBI, no less. The Eye was right. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jack feign a look of utter annoyance at having been deprived of his nap as he lazily raised his hands in the air.
"Un momento," Merritt said lazily, his book covering his face.
"Put your hands in the air!" the man cried out, aiming at Merritt.
Merritt put down his book and raised his fingers in a V sign. "Okay, you got me."
Henley was making her way down the stairs, and the team of guns turned to her quickly. "Oops!" she said brightly. "Do one of you mind giving us a hand with our bags?"
THE FBI WILL TAKE ALL FOUR OF YOU IN. YOU WILL BE INTERROGATED, ONE BY ONE.
"This is Merritt McKinney, twenty-one years old, psych major in Octa, set to graduate with honors by next year. Brilliant, his professors called him, and responsible for our witness being rendered completely useless."
Dylan Rhodes winced. He remembered their useless witness, poor Mr. Forcier, currently finishing his concerto in the other room. The young agent looked at the files and at his companion, a lovely blonde French girl named Alma Dray. His boss had taken the girl in, saying that she might be able to help in the interrogation, as a friendly face that the four kids knew from school. Personally, he felt that the addition of Alma Dray was an unwelcome one, something that would only complicate the situation as is, but he really didn't have much of a choice in the matter.
She looked at him questioningly. "Well, Agent, shouldn't you get to work?"
Merritt took one look at Dylan and Alma as they entered and grinned deviously. "Alma, you never told me you had a type."
Dylan was about to immediately go on the defense, but Alma rolled her eyes simply. "Knock it off, Merritt. You're in trouble, and the faster you cooperate with these guys, the faster you guys can get out of here." There was a commanding tone in her casual statement, something that Dylan couldn't help but admire.
Merritt fell silent, instead eyeing an older agent lurking outside the door. He grinned as he turned to the pair. "Agent Rhodes, could you please tell your senior agent over there that there's absolutely no shame in the Tranny Tuesdays arrangement he's made with his wife. We do live in the 21st century, after all. No shame, Agent Fuller! No shame!"
Dylan thought he heard a groan from Agent Fuller, even through the closed door of the interrogation room. Merritt wheezed a small laugh, looking at both of them with a light in his eyes. "Just having some fun."
THEY HAVE NO HOLD ON YOU, BECAUSE IF THEY DO, THEY WILL ACCEPT 'MAGIC' AS A VALID ANSWER ON HOW YOU ROBBED A BANK FROM A STAGE IN NEW YORK.
"Okay, J. Daniel Atlas, pre-law, with fairly average grades, no other extra-curriculars apart from the occasional show with the other three… you seem to be a fairly well-rounded student, Daniel," Dylan started, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Let's cut the crap, Agent Rhodes," Daniel said arrogantly, leaning back against his chair. "You know – as do your superiors – know that you can't hold us here. Not unless you're willing to accept that magic got that money out somehow."
"But I can hold you for whatever it is you know, because it can't possibly be a coincidence that the money from the scholarship fund went missing at the exact time you chose to 'rob' it for a show!" Dylan said hotly.
"Can you?" Daniel raised an eyebrow challengingly. "I'm not too sure about that. Pre-law, remember?"
"Okay, smart ass, how about this, I let you go, but let me keep your boyfriend here for a little while," Dylan said menacingly. "I know you two are fairly new, but do you really want me to test the limits of Jack Wilder while he's in police custody?
The threat registered in Danny's mind, and for a split second, he saw red. No freaking way did this smart mouth just threaten Jack on account of anything else in this world. But he remembered The Eye's explicit instructions, and just decided to keep his cool and play along. He shrugged and smiled cockily, which seemed to infuriate Agent Rhodes all the more.
"Do what you like, Agent Rhodes, anything to get you a little bit closer to where we are now."
THEY WILL USE YOUR KNOWN ALLIANCES AND RELATIONSHIPS AGAINST YOU, BUT YOU MUSTN'T LET THEM GET TO YOU. TRY TO TURN IT AGAINST THEM.
"So what exactly is 'mentalism', Mr. McKinney?"
"Tricks, mostly, some of it science, a bit of targeted guessing here and there, and then there's the…" He held his head for dramatic effect. "… occasional voices in my head."
Dylan looked at Merritt almost condescendingly for a split second, as though wondering whether to take the mentalist seriously or not. He decided against exerting any more effort than necessary, though, and turned to the files before him. "So it says here you're a twin to Chase McKinney—" Merritt snorted derisively, "—and you two are clearly not on good terms. What happened to that relationship, Merritt? Mommy and Daddy picked him over you?"
Merritt grinned indulgently. "It's so cute that you try, Agent, my little mentalist," he cooed before clearing his throat and leaning back on his chair. "You want to know how it's done? See, you grit your teeth just a little bit when you said the words 'mommy and daddy', so I'm sensing some big parental issues over here. Warmer?"
Dylan fixed Merritt with what he was clearly attempting to be a blank stare, but Merritt knew better. He was, indeed, getting close. "Mommy? Oh wait, no… it's Daddy, isn't it?" he said gently, his confirmation coming from the way the young agent breathed heavily through his nose.
"Merritt," Alma said warningly.
"You know what, Agent Rhodes, let me tell you two things," Merritt said easily. "The first thing: don't mix yourself up in what you think you know, because I'm telling you, it never ends well for anyone. The damage will be massive, and you'll end up with a big, stinking pile of nada."
"Oh, you think so?" Dylan sneered. "And your second point?"
"Oh, right," Merritt cleared his throat. "I'm sitting here, reading you and telling you what an ordinary therapist would charge you truckloads of money for. I'm willing to take a tenner, usually, but for you?"
He waited for Dylan to reply. All he got from the angry agent, however, was stony silence and a death glare, so he widened his grin. "I'll still take a tenner."
THEY WILL THREATEN TO USE YOUR WEAKNESSES AGAINST YOU.
Agent Rhodes was too easy to wind up, it was almost funny. Danny knew he ought to thank Merritt for making his round of interrogation much easier – it can't have been easy to sit through twenty minutes with a mentalist who would read exactly what your next moves were, but right now, he was having too much fun.
"Daniel, listen to me," Alma interjected, putting a calming hand on Rhodes' shoulder as he clenched his fists. "If you didn't do it, you must know who did. For the sake of you and your whole team, please start talking."
Danny held back a smile, lifting his empty hands up in the air. "You got us, it's—"
"You know what's magic?" Dylan interjected angrily. "It's putting supposedly hard-to-catch criminals behind bars for the rest of their lives with absolutely nothing to show for. That's my kind of magic. I'm going to catch you in the act, Atlas, and when I'm going to be all over you—"
"—like white on rice?" Danny said quickly. "Sure, sure."
Dylan scoffed. "Don't think you can fool me with your smug façade, Atlas. I'm going to have you watched every step of the way, and I'm going to have you arrested."
"If it means you're actually going to do it, yeah, sure," Danny countered. "Because if you do, then that means – at an institutional level – you actually believe in magic. The press is going to have a field day: we'll be more famous than we already are, and you, Agent Rhodes, will look like even bigger idiots than you already are."
The young agent smirked. "You and Mr. Wilder better watch your backs, Atlas. I'll be close."
Danny's eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "Come closer then, Agent Rhodes, because the closer you look, the less you'll actually see. At no point in the future will you be no more or no less exactly where I want you to be, because we will always be one step, three steps, seven steps ahead, and just when you think you're getting somewhere—" BAM! He slammed a chained hand on the table. "—that's when you'll see us right behind you. So come closer with your empty threats for my team, for me, for Jack, and I promise you, Agent Rhodes – you will regret it."
"I'm going to nail you—!"
In all happened in a split second – both men stood up quickly and, with a flash of silver, Dylan found himself cuffed to the table, Daniel's hands completely free. The showman glanced at the soda can in front of the French woman deviously. "Something wrong with your soda, Alms?"
Alma shook the can, rolled her eyes, and opened it. Dylan Rhodes continued to glare angrily at Danny as Alma uncuffed him, snatching his "saved" phone from the younger man.
"Most important lesson in magic, Agent Rhodes," Danny supplied. "Always be the smartest guy in the room."
WHEN ALL THAT IS DONE, GO HOME AND PREPARE FOR THE NEXT ACT.
They all collapsed in their respective places when they finally got back to their apartment. For a good ten minutes, there was only silence, allowing the situation and the last two days to sink in to them.
Then Henley let out a little nervous giggle. Merritt started laughing his loud, wheezing laugh shortly afterwards. Jack was smirking and shaking his head before bursting into laughter with Merritt, and soon enough Danny was laughing as well, tears streaming down his face as he realized the gravity of what they just went through. He looked at the three, still laughing, and he thought to himself, God, that felt good.
Danny's eyes landed on Jack, who was panting from laughing so much. There was a strange feeling inside him, and when Jack's dark eyes connected with his gaze, something in him broke, and he realized that whatever brought them together last October was nothing – nothing – compared to what was stirring in him right now.
"Okay, we're just going to…" Merritt said hastily, taking Henley's gloved hand in his and leading her out of the room in record time. "See you boys later."
Danny barely heard or cared. He only saw and cared about one thing now, and that was the way Jack was eyeing him, like a predator circling its prey. Whatever was brewing in him – damn it, whatever it was would kill him – must have been obvious in the way he was gazing at Jack, because his boyfriend's eyes narrowed as he quickly stood up from where he sat and – in record time – closed the distance between them so fast that Danny was able to register nothing else but Jack, Jack, Jack.
Nothing could have prepared him for this at all. This was not part of his plan, or anyone's plan, but like with all things that had to do with Jack, Danny just found that he was once more losing himself in the moment. Jack was pushing him into the open door of a room – he didn't know if it was his or Jack, and damn it, he thought he could live with holding and kissing Jack Wilder for the rest of his blissful life, but now he was second guessing himself, he wanted so much more, but he wasn't sure if Jack wanted it, and if he didn't he was going to lose his mind, but if he did, he didn't know if he would still want to stay, and if they did oh God, oh God, oh God…
"Danny!" Jack's sharp cry broke into his reverie. He noticed that both of Jack's hands were on his shoulders, practically shaking him, and he blinked, confused. "Hey, hey, you've got this. We're just… doing what we usually do. Nothing more, okay?"
It was as though Jack was talking to a wounded animal, and Danny was reminded of what just happened. He groaned, hanging his lead low – he had to have a fucking panic attack right before… "Damn it!" he cried out angrily, kicking the side table down.
Jack didn't move, watching Danny pace around the room, muttering to himself. He felt like kicking himself: he shouldn't have made a move. If he had just kept it in his pants, Danny wouldn't even have had a fucking panic attack because he wanted to—
Danny sat on the bed, putting his hands behind his head in frustration. When Danny calmed down, he carefully took a seat next to him, but kept his distance so as not to scare the other man. "Hey, I'm sorry," Jack said gently.
Danny's head snapped up. "What?"
"I… I didn't mean to come on to you," Jack said apologetically, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I was just being an idiot. I get that you don't want to take… take this further, and that's fine, I'm not here for that—"
"Wait, what?" Danny said agitatedly. "You think I… don't want you?"
Jack looked at Danny, confused. "You panicked, man."
Danny shook his head desperately, horribly frustrated. "No, no, no, no, no!" he cried out. He wanted to be so good at articulating exactly how this man made him feel, but he was never a man of the right words, and all he could say was, "I want you so fucking much, but I'm afraid that you won't."
Jack knew that what Danny said wouldn't make sense to most people, but he prided himself on not being "most people". J. Daniel Atlas feared nothing and no one – he proved that much in the interrogation room. And he knew now that the more the mighty Atlas feared, the more he… it made all sense to him now, and he closed the gap between them and took Danny in his arms, feeling his boyfriend sink into him almost immediately.
"That's not possible, Atlas. Have you seen how positively sexy you are? Who doesn't want some of that?" Jack said in jest, hoping to lighten the mood. The desire was gone now, replaced by an overwhelming sense of affection.
Danny chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "I blew it, didn't I?"
"Not really, no," Jack wagged his eyebrows. "You still could."
Danny punched him in the arm, earning a laugh from Jack as he partially let go of Danny, keeping one arm around him. "You're horrible," Danny said simply.
"But yours. That's the beauty of it," Jack offered sweetly.
He really had no idea just how beautiful it was to Danny.