Jones stared at the clock. It had his face on it. It'd been funny when he was seventeen, to paint his face on stuff, now it just made him feel stupid: like an Idiot. His face was one of the only things he could really paint well, which he knew was vain, but even when he tried to draw other people they always ended up with pointy chins and a nose like a massive arrow, pointing down like a freudian metaphor. Except Dan. He could draw Dan. He had piles and piles of paper - the backs of Dan's draft articles, bills, letters, stuff Dan brought home from SugaRape - that he'd drawn Dan's face on, but Dan had been adamant about not having a portrait of himself hanging in the house. Jones had even started one, had stretched the canvas and done the outline, but that was as far as he ever got. Dan didn't want Jones to paint him, so Jones stopped and pretended it didn't matter.

Which meant that now they had a house full of Jones, and the only reminder that Dan even existed within these walls were the clothes scattered about the bedroom. The house even smelt different now, without the faint undercurrent of whiskey and stale beer. It wasn't a bad thing, he supposed, because spirits seeping into carpet wasn't exactly a nice smell - it reminded Jones of the feeling you got when you woke up after forgetting to brush your teeth, cos you weren't actually intending to fall asleep - all furry and gluggy and hard to wash away. It had made the house feel colder and he was glad it was gone, but...

Jones tried to shift his hips to be more comfortable without moving so much that Dan'd notice and wake up. Trust Dan to fall asleep to the sound of his fucking tantrum.

He stretched his neck around to try and get a proper look at the man who would probably be embarrassed to find out just how important he was. Sitting on the floor and using the couch as a back rest had seemed like a good idea a few hours ago but now his arse was asleep and his ribs really hurt. He'd thought about snuggling in next to Dan but didn't want to lean on any of his broken bits and because... well, because he couldn't make the voice in his head, that was telling him he didn't deserve a Dan cuddle, shut up.

He shouldn't have snapped at him, he shouldn't have had a tantrum like a bratty kid, and now they had one less mug and the kitchen cabinets were scuffed up and would need repainting. He'd just felt... out of control. Which was stupid. Dan'd seen him shirtless too many times to count - until Claire moved in he'd quite enjoyed prancing about the place in no more than a towel to try and make Dan chase him to the bed - but it was different when he wasn't in the mood. And he wasn't keen on the idea that his body was somehow public property 'cos everyone'd seen it in that shitty magazine.

It all came back to SugaRape in the end.

When they'd met, Dan had been a music reviewer, and he'd loved it. Jones read everything Dan wrote and listened obsessively to the albums he reviewed. He'd been like a fan rather than a friend but Dan had been... indulgent. Sometimes Jones wondered whether Dan had let their first kiss happen just because he liked to give Jones whatever he wanted but he didn't think Dan had really been that against them getting together when it did happen. At least, he hoped he didn't regret it.

When Dan had started writing feature articles as well as music reviews he'd been more reluctant to let Jones read his words and Jones could understand why. Each piece was more acerbic and sarcastic than the last and the assignments that Jonatton Yeah? sent him on gradually became more and more degrading until Dan began to hide each edition from Jones, and then not bring them home at all.

He had shown Jones the 'Rise of the Idiots' piece though. He'd been proud of that and Jones could see why. It was good. Like music, but in words. Like poetry but not as twattish. He'd told Dan it was brilliant but Dan'd just grunted at him - a noise that said very clearly that he wanted to be left alone - and it had made Jones wonder whether Dan viewed him as one of the Idiots he despised so much. He'd always said Jones was different but maybe he'd changed his mind.

He'd tried harder with his music but it had got more and more difficult to get Dan's attention and then...

Jones shook his head to clear away the thoughts. They never led anywhere, they just went around and around, like a Christmas CD, played ad nauseum until you wanted to scream. His rib ached, where that duche outside the club had punched him, and his arm hurt from the graze he'd got when he fell, and he probably did need to clean them up. Dan's breathing was still steady, so he probably wouldn't wake up if Jones was careful and he shifted himself around some more, until he was sitting up and facing Dan, with the first aid kit in front of him.

He smiled. Dan always looked so serious when he was sleeping, like he was reading through something really important, or dreaming of all the things that'd gone wrong during the day. But his breathing when he slept was beautiful. It reminded Jones of the sea. He'd only been once, when he was a kid, the year before his dad died. They'd rented a little house down at some beach - Jones couldn't even remember it's name - and every night for a week Jones had gone to sleep with the window open and the sound of the sea in his head.

It had been strange, because the dark made it hard to tell just how far away the water was, and he could imagine that it was just outside the house, carrying him off to some far away place, like in "Where the Wild Things Are". And the sound was just movement, rocking and shifting and felt to Jones like the world breathing.

And Dan breathing, all calm and asleep and still, was like that too. Like a clear, dark blue night that was almost black except for the ripples of silver from the moon. It was one of the best sounds he'd ever heard, a memory sound that calmed him down, and so, when he actually removed his t-shirt and began to inspect the bruise that was blossoming on his ribs, he didn't feel so bad.

There wasn't a lot he could do about it. The skin was broken in a few places but it didn't need strapping, and the grazes on his arm just needed a quick clean, but when he was nearly done he suddenly realised that the room had gone very still. There was no back and forth movement, no calm, and when he looked up, Dan was gazing at him by the dim glow of the kitchen light, like a statue that'd come to life.

"Hey," he whispered nervously.

"Hey," Dan croaked and Jones shuffled forward to plant a gentle kiss on his lips so Dan would know he was sorry without either of them having to say anything.

"You should go back to sleep," he murmured, stroking Dan's untidy curls. His hair was still too short, after the whole 'Geek Pie' episode, but the curls were starting to reappear, and Jones couldn't help but smile at the way the hairs bounced a bit as he ran his fingers through.

"Have you slept at all?"

Dan still sounded half-asleep, but he was peering at Jones the way he'd used to, back when he used to keep an eye on whether Jones was getting enough sleep and eating actual food rather than just coffee. Jones considered lying and saying that he had but shook his head instead.

"I gotta be at Stanley's at ten. Didn't seem much point in sleeping."

"You've just been sitting here in the dark then?"

Jones nodded and pressed another kiss to Dan's lips, a little more desperate than the last. Dan pressed back and he could feel their teeth pushing together through their lips in a way that almost hurt but felt good and right as well.

They tried not to break the kiss as Dan sat up but it didn't really work and Jones laughed quietly into his lover's mouth as he was pulled onto the couch and into Dan's lap.

He scraped his cheek along Dan's, enjoying the shiver that went through the other man at the sensation and let his hand trail up Dan's chest to rest over his heart before diving back in for another messy kiss.

"What time is it?" Dan gasped as Jones pressed his weight down against his groin.

"Nearly eight thirty," Jones replied, starting up a slow rhythm as he pushed their bodies together. "Plenty of time."

Dan's chuckle felt like an electric shock down his spine and Jones fought to unbuckle his jeans, which only made Dan laugh more.

"It'll be ok," he mumbled into Jones' mouth, saying it over and over like he was trying to calm Jones down even as his good hand delved into Jones' tight trousers. "I'm just glad you're safe."

Jones nodded and pushed the heavy fabric down and off his legs, pulling desperately at Dan's pajamas and t-shirt until they were both, finally naked.

"I just- I just-"

"It'll be alright, Jonesy, please believe me. I love you," Dan whispered and Jones tried to hold back the horrible sob that wanted to escape his throat at hearing those words.

He nodded again, because talking was just not going to happen, and let Dan prod him about until their bodies were properly lined up. Dan wrapped his large hand around both of their leaking erections and began to stroke lazily as Jones felt himself come undone, his sob coming out as a moan that rippled through the silence and made the colours seem a just little sharper.

And when Dan began to kiss and suck at his throat, whispering beautiful nonsense as they both began to pant, Jones actually believed it. Everything would be alright.

Neither of them lasted long, one still pliant from sleep, the other from exhaustion, and when it was done Dan held him tight enough that his bruised ribs burned, like holding a mug of coffee that was too hot but that you didn't want to put down. It made colours dance in front of his eyes; pale, green splotches of colour like lemon-lime sherbet.

"I should have a shower," he mumbled, feeling his words vibrate through Dan's chest like a low quality playback. "For work."

"Probably," Dan agreed. "But you'll have to help me get clean first."

Jones grinned, looking up at Dan and watching his lover fight to make eye contact.

"You requesting another sponge bath? I thought you were playing the nurse this time."

Dan's laugh was deep, like the rumble of a freight train and Jones kissed his nose, even though it was silly, which only made Dan laugh more.

"I tried to play nurse but you weren't in the mood," he grumbled. "So it's your turn."

"Fair enough," Jones nodded, climbing to his feet and pulling Dan up after him.

"And you better do a good job," Dan warned him, hobbling across the room until he finally agreed to take Jones' arm.

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm walking you to work - No arguing! - we'll grab a coffee on the way. I'm buying."

Jones raised his eyebrows and when Dan grinned at him with that smile that had always seemed to Jones to be a bit predatory, and couldn't be argued with, he felt a little shiver go down his spine. They were finally going out as a couple. Even if the SugaRape article had never happened he liked to think that they would be doing it anyway but now they were coming out and proving that they were in a normal, loving relationship, rather than just coming out full stop. It was terrifying but at the same time he trusted Dan when he said it was going to be alright.

"Wait," he said, turning to face Dan in the bathroom doorway. "You're buying me coffee? How'd you plan to do that, exactly?"

"Oh, yeah," Dan replied slyly. "Can I borrow a tenner?"

The laughter bubbled out of Jones so fast he couldn't stop it so he let it happen, cackling like a madman while Dan just grinned at him, like making Jones laugh was the best thing in the world. It was going to be alright, they'd show Jonatton and the idiots like him that they weren't going to be beaten with intimidation and slander. But they needed to clean themselves up first, it wouldn't be the best look to go out with their hair mussed and bellies covered in dried spunk. He was going to need a seriously good outfit for this.