Cristobal Rodriguez ♦ Coyote (coyoti) wrote in paxemerituslog, @ 2018-11-17 00:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | ares, coyote |
i'd bet it all on a good run of bad luck
Who: Daniel & Chris.
What: The "second" date, after Valentine's Day.
Where: Chris's apartment at the Bradbury.
When: Mid-March.
Chris had frozen, at first, at all of the decisions he would need to make. He didn't want this chance to be manipulated to perfection, because he knew Daniel would read right through it, and Chris was afraid Daniel would turn tail and run at any hint that Chris might attempt to pull the wool over his eyes once more.
So then, he'd started slowly—first shopping for ingredients to make his grandfather's beef flautas, topped with guac, and side dishes of beans and rice. Then clothes, five outfits first on his person and then on his floor before he finally settled on something near to what he'd worn to the go-kart date: simple jeans, no shoes or socks, a printed black tee with a cut-out of Presley across the chest. He'd flipped the TV on for want of some noise in the background, eventually landing on a soccer game—LA Galaxy versus Atlanta United, the irony of which was not entirely lost on him.
He left it on anyway.
Busying himself in the kitchen, the memorized gestures of making and then plating food soon helped him lose track of time, startled awake to the present only by the rapping of knuckles on his front door. Daniel stood on the other side, a six-pack of Negra Modelo dangling from his free hand.
"Look at you, dressin' down," Daniel said, casting a too-long look down Chris' form. "Did not see that comin'." Chris rolled his eyes, taking a step back even as a smile edged at the side of his mouth.
Daniel swept past Chris to enter the flat, his shoulder brushing his host's in an obviously intentional motion. He cracked a wide, bright grin as his ears pricked up, overhearing the television in the living room beyond. "Well shit. You're just playin' to all my weaknesses, aren't you?" He looked back to Chris over one shoulder as he hooked a hard right toward the kitchen counter. "Good food, a good game… what else you got planned?"
The steady stream of chatter did little to diffuse his nerves. He had spent more than a little time considering the questions that now danced on the tip of his tongue, that filled his thoughts and vied for his attention even as he took in the details of his ex's new home. He took a bottle from the six-pack as he straightened up from in front of the fridge, bumping the door shut with his hip.
Chris had long since closed the door and worked his way back toward the kitchen, cane in tow. He shrugged, watching Daniel make himself at home. He hoped it was a good sign.
"Guess you'll just have to wait and see, huh? Go take a seat on the couch, we can eat and watch the game." A good portion of the food, sans just the flautas, were already spread out on the coffee table in the small sitting room of his new apartment. "So, the beer—you softening me up for some hardballs?" He made his way past Daniel and toward the oven, where he peeked to see how well done his food was. It still had a few minutes left on it, so he straightened, instead leaning against one of the counters as he waited for Daniel's reply.
"Damn right," Daniel said, his heart in his throat all the while. He tried not to look overlong at Chris's backside where he bent to the oven, but he allowed himself a bit of a glance all the same. He could not fight the shaky smile the sight put on his face. "You sure I can't do anything to help get stuff ready?"
Chris shook his head, and waved Daniel toward the couch once more; he teetered his way toward the fridge, opening it to peel two beers out of the pack his date had brought, feeling more than grateful that the alcohol was there. His nerves were fried enough, hoping against hope that this evening would go better than he believed it might.
Satisfied the bulk of the work was done, Daniel tore some paper towels free of a nearby roll, then carried them and his freshly-opened beer into the living room as he was bid. He dropped down to the sofa, stretching his long legs comfortably out, crossed at the ankles.
"I'll let you get a beer or two in ya before we get started, though." Pointing to the television, he added, "And I'm thinkin' whoever's home team loses should have to clean up the dishes."
"Considering my streak of good luck, I'll take that bet," Chris replied, having followed at some small distance, and put his own beers down along with a bottle opener he'd snagged from a nearby drawer. Then he disappeared back into the kitchen to finish up the flautas, bringing them out on a neat plate. He waved at the rest of the spread, empty plates already ready at the far end of the coffee table. "Dig in."
Chris seated himself on the far end of the couch, abstaining from the meal for a moment as he both made himself comfortable and popped the first beer open. "So... how do you want to do this? Just... jump right in, or...?" His own nerves were on display as he took a long pull of the beer, gaze watching every small movement Daniel made. A combination of fear and hope peeked out through his eyes.
"I mean if you want," Daniel said. His gaze jumped from Chris to the television and back again, as flighty as his heart as it fluttered in his chest. He quirked a brief, unsteady smile. "I'm gonna use all twenty of those questions you promised me, so we might as well get started in case you need a halftime break." Chris laughed quietly, but more genuinely than he might have expected from himself. He balanced the open beer between both hands, glancing down at it before looking back up at his guest.
Daniel took a sip from his beer, then leaned up to serve himself a few flautas from the serving dish. Then he settled back against the couch's armrest, the beer bottle held between his thighs, and he studied Chris's face as he carefully pondered his first question.
"What exactly did Savoy have on you?" he asked. "To get you workin' for him, and to keep you doin' it when shit got bad." He arched one brow, his expression somehow growing more piercing. "And I don't have to remind you, I hope, to not leave anything out."
Chris at least made an attempt at rolling his eyes, but it ended in him shaking his head. "I was serious about this, Daniel." He could feel his heart beating a million miles in his chest, and he prayed to God it didn't show on his face. He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. His gaze moved from Daniel's face to the food, fixating on the plates.
"He said he had contacts. Old dealers who used to work for me, people who could put me in places at certain times, people who would testify to keep their asses out of jail. This one guy, Badger, who I helped....stay out..." He skirted the issue, taking a deep swig. Then he forced himself to continue. "Names. A lot of names. I always thought I was pretty easy to get along with," he tried flashing a grin at Daniel, feeling it fall to pieces not even halfway through, "but I guess I don't act as well as I thought. And people in this line of work, I guess it's better to scare 'em than try to befriend 'em. Or I guess separate 'em from their money to keep 'em by the short and curlies.
"Basically, it was enough, more than enough, to send me to prison for a good long while." He clenched his jaw, his mouth pressed into a hard line. "And then there was the whole murdering my dad thing to try and push me back in line. I guess I should count myself lucky that he never did anything with it, but... don't know where he kept the stuff, or how I'd even get access to it."
"The Brandts might know," Daniel offered, covering his mouthful of food with one hand. He swallowed, then sucked a bit of sauce from his index finger. "Outside of that I might be planning another excursion to the old building. Might be able to find somethin' while we're there." Chris's brows rose as he watched Daniel pop the last bite of one flauta in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he considered his next question. His jaw went tight when he landed on it. He feared the answer, but he feared not knowing that much more.
"Are you really out?" Daniel swallowed hard. His lips thinned, he watched Chris's face intently, unblinking.
Chris met his gaze evenly. "Yes," he said, the one word ringing loudly in the air. "I'm out. I'm not doing any of that anymore. I told you before, I was working on legitimate ventures before this, and... and now nothing's involved with any of that." He hoped his face remained calm; just because he'd taken himself out of the game didn't mean there weren't people still calling, still asking questions. No one believed he was serious, even though it had been over a year now since he'd gone legit. One didn't really tend to walk away from that sort of lifestyle; usually one left it in a body bag, one way or another.
"I'm not dicking you around, Daniel, I swear I'm fucking done." He paused, his expression growing morose. "I've wanted to be done with it for a long time, and...people here helped me with that." He went quiet, his voice softer.
"You helped me with that."
A fragile smile twitched at the corner of Daniel's mouth. "I thought you said I was shit at transitions," he said. He meant it as a joke; it came out more prickly than he intended. Chris winced, and rolled one shoulder as he tried to not show his regret. Daniel cleared his throat and started again. "Seriously though I'm glad to hear it, whatever got you out. No matter what happens with us, I'd like to know you're… safer, I guess, or at least making better choices than you were."
He scooped up a bit of rice and beans only to push it meaninglessly around his plate. "I dunno how to ask this," he said, "so I'm just gonna go for it. What… what's the worst lie you told me? Or I guess… is there somethin' you said that I don't already know is a lie?"
Chris swallowed, but it was the only thing that prevented him from speaking immediately. He'd had a lot of time to think about the things he'd done, turning them over and over in his head.
"The first time you found out, which... I wish wasn't how things had gone down." His gaze flicked away, and then back to Daniel, rushing on before the other man could interject. "I didn't know how I'd end up feeling about you, but I wish I hadn't held back the first time. I wish I'd just told you everything, but I was terrified—" He stopped, suddenly blinking back tears. He wiped at his face. "Christ, one fucking beer..." He muttered. Despite his complaint, he took another swig. Daniel was grateful for the brief break. Too many times he had replayed that awful day in his head; it was as fresh in his mind as the day it had happened.
"I was terrified you'd drop me, like everyone else. So I thought, I stupidly thought, it was better to tell you what I thought you wanted to hear."
"You know better now, right?" Daniel's brow arched. He pointed an index finger at Chris. "That doesn't count as a question, either. That's just a part B to the last one. Actually, wait—" Daniel fidgeted. He leaned up to set his plate aside, letting it rest atop the coffee table. He took up his beer and all but drained it in a single go. His heart beat too fast; it felt lodged somewhere in his throat.
"OK, this is a question. If this goes any further, any further at all, are you gonna be up front with me? I mean completely up front. No more lies, no more hedging, no more creative evasions."
"Yes." Chris clutched the bottle in his hands so hard he thought it might break; all the while, his gaze was on Daniel's face. He leaned toward the other man, the game on the TV utterly forgotten. "I swear, I'll be better this time. I'll fucking tell you everything, if you want to GPS my phone, I don't care." He felt the glass actually creak under his skin, and quickly put the mostly drunk bottle down near the untouched food.
"You wanna know where I am all the time? Fine. Put a fucking ankle monitor on me, Daniel, I swear I'm going to be honest with you. I love you." His next breath came out shakily; he could feel tremors in his hands. Chris watched Daniel's face carefully, hoping against hope that there would be some sign of what he wanted to see there. What that look revealed was a naked sadness and vulnerability Daniel neither expected nor realized he showed.
"Baby, I don't wanna put you on lockdown," Daniel sighed. "I just wanna trust you. When you say you're doin' something, or not doin' something, I wanna believe you. If you think that's unreasonable or you're gonna resent me for it, then this isn't going anywhere, and we're both wastin' our time."
Chris opened his mouth to reply, but let it click shut when Daniel rose from the couch, taking his empty bottle with him. He disappeared into the kitchen, a series of small clinking sounds announcing his every action. When he returned it was with a fresh beer in his hand, several sips already gone from it. He took his seat, but did not pick up his plate again.
"How far would you have let Savoy go, to save your own ass?" Daniel's voice was small. Wounded. "He could'a killed me. Us. Everybody. And if he hadn't called you out, maybe none of us would've ever known."
"I was already trying, I was... I didn't know what to do," Chris tried, feeling his heart palpitate. His fingers kneaded the couch cushion beneath him; this was a subject he felt beat to death, and if it was a breaking point, it wasn't something he could fix.
"I didn't know he was some insane dickwad trying to do whatever the fuck Halloween was. I should have said more, I will say more. Daniel, I don't know what you're looking for from me." He searched Daniel's face, a hand pressed momentarily to his chest. "I can't change what I did, what I didn't do. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you got hurt, I'm sorry BB got hurt, I'm sorry I had a fucking hand in putting everyone in danger. I know I don't deserve another chance from you, but you're here, and that says you wanna give me one, or else... is this just getting you off? What is it?" Daniel winced, glancing down to his beer, immediately raising it to his lips.
Chris took a chance and scooted closer; not enough to touch, just an inch or so. "Tell me what you want. You want space? You want me to disappear? I swear I'm trying, Daniel, I just don't know what I can do to prove... to prove myself."
"Just keep answerin' my questions," Daniel said. He sounded hurt. Weary. "I wouldn't be here, I wouldn't be doin' this if I didn't wanna give you another chance. I don't want you to disappear. I don't—" He sighed heavily. "You offered to do this, Chris. Don't bow up at me 'cause I'm takin' you up on it." He rubbed at his nape, the only reassuring touch he could have in this moment. It was certainly not the one he wanted, and though he did not want it to, that loneliness showed on his face.
"When…" His voice cracked and broke. He felt foolish and weak, but his need to know overwhelmed everything else. Color had risen to his cheeks, darkening sunkissed flesh. "When did you know you loved me?"
"I'm not bowing—" Chris stopped himself mid-sentence, taking a deep breath. A hand rose, sliding back through the long mess of hair that brushed his shoulders. His mind instantly went back to the night the floors changed in the old apartment complex; the week they'd been locked inside the insane shifts between each level. The worry in his face eased as he remembered. Without realizing it Daniel mirrored that relaxation; in his increased calm he let himself slide closer to Chris on the couch.
"The floor changes," he said, his voice even. "You, and me, drinking that...mead? Whatever it was. And you telling me that I wasn't a problem, and you wanted someone who just wanted you, and I just..." Incisors bit into his bottom lip. "You're so much like me, and not like me, it drives me nuts. In a good way," he added, brows coming together across his gaze. Chris waited a beat.
"Everything I said that night is true, too. Out of everyone, you didn't even know me, we didn't have any history, and you gave a shit. I want to do better by you, Daniel. I swear."
"I want you to," Daniel said. "History or not, I saw somethin' in you the minute we met. There's always more to you than you wanna let on, more than you even wanna admit to yourself. I do give a shit about you. Even…" He raked a hand through his hair. He glanced toward his food, going cold as he paid more attention to their conversation and the beer in his hand. His thumb slid beneath the edge of the beer's label, picking impatiently at it.
"Even after Halloween. Bein' away from you sucks, even when I'm pissed at you. And I was so pissed…" He let slip a mirthless little laugh. "But if I didn't love you it wouldn't have hurt so goddamn bad."
Chris's heart did a flip inside his chest, a thrilled smile breaking out and quickly smothered on his face. He didn't wish to seem overeager in light of Daniel's pain, connected to the subject matter of their conversation.
"No one does emotions like you, Sin," he replied, laughing a little. "Shit, I thought you were going to kill me right then and there. Won't lie, would've been a hell of a way to go. Death by smoldering, sexy ex-boyfriend." Daniel couldn't help his small, choked chuckle. Chris rubbed his lips together and reached for his drink, finishing it; the empty went next to the second bottle he'd brought over, and Chris pulled that bottle to himself. He leaned back against the couch, his body leaning in Daniel's direction. An arm went up, rubbing the back of his neck—then laid itself out along the top of the couch cushions, an open invitation.
"But that's another thing I love about you," he said, motioning with bottle in hand. "You're unapologetic. You are what people see, and fuck 'em if they have a problem with it. But more than that—you have a huge heart. You give, and you give, and you give... and... and you deserve everything right back." He took another drink, but his eyes never left Daniel's face; that look was broken only by scattered flicks from Daniel's eyes to his mouth, throat, down, but always back up to gauge how he thought the conversation was progressing.
"You tryin' to butter me up?" Daniel asked, blushing noticeably, a shy smile playing on his lips. But he shook his head before Chris could take his attempt at levity as anything more than it was. This felt like the most earnest either of them had been in a long, long time, and he did not want to undermine that. He turned the bottle in his hand, feeling what little beer remained sloshing inside. "'Cause it's workin'."
Chris grinned, waggling his brows as he took another sip of his beer.
Daniel shook his head. His eyes flicked down to the bottle, but only briefly. As he raised it to his lips he looked back to Chris. Another sip gone and he found his words again. "Where do you think this is goin'?" he asked. "If we pick this back up, for real, is this… you think it's maybe somethin' long-term? You see a, I dunno, future with me?"
His would-be partner allowed himself a moment before replying; but already his head was bobbing, his expression wanting.
"My mom might kick me for saying this," he started, "but I never thought much about anything beyond the day after next. But when I think about you—when I think about us—I see you with me. I want you with me." He pressed a hand to his chest; the hand curled around the beer bottle. "You call me out on my shit. You make me a better person; you make me wanna be a better person.
"So, I dunno what that looks like to you—you... you want a house, kids, whatever. I don't know what I want, other than I know I wanna be with you." His tongue swelled over his lips, anxiety clenching his jaw as he hoped the semi-malformed answer worked. It was true that he'd never thought much about his own future; but it seemed like one step forward to think of one with Daniel in the picture, whatever other form that future might take.
Daniel let him stew in that uncertainty for a time, content to watch Chris's face and try to gauge the veracity of his words. He wanted them to be true; he needed it, in a way he had neither anticipated nor wanted in the past. The depth of that desire, the strength of his hunger to see a path forward for this relationship, was enough to frighten him. That fear showed in the dark flash of his eyes, in the sudden tightening of his stubbled jaw.
"I…" His voice sounded rusty, almost creaky as if from disuse. He sank his teeth into the tip of his tongue as he gathered his thoughts. "That's enough for me, for now at least. I do want a family. I'm not sayin' tomorrow, or next year, or whatever, but like… I do want that. And I think we could make that happen, as long as we're both really tryin'. Really. Can you promise that?" Daniel chuckled. "And when can I meet your mom?"
Chris blinked, taken aback. Then his cheeks reddened, surprise changing to uncertain delight.
"Whenever you want, gallo," he said, grinning like a loon, still not entirely certain he was winning this scenario even as he felt like it. "She's gonna lose her mind. Lemme know what your schedule is like and I'll set up a time, we can go over to her place; swear she's gonna destroy what's left of my rep with baby pictures."
He shook his head, finished the bottle in his hand and leaned forward to put it among the untouched food. When he leaned back to his seat, his hand landed lightly on Daniel's knee; as he spoke, that light touch moved down to the inside of Daniel's thigh. "And yeah, I can do kids. In fact, we could practice knockin' you up right now, if you want. Or am I still on probation?"
"Probation," Daniel echoed, scoffing. Chris flashed a smile, glancing at Daniel sidelong. Daniel fell back on mindless motion, unconsciously mirroring Chris. Leaning up, he set his bottle aside, but he did not move far enough to dislodge Chris's hand from his leg. After a moment he actually moved closer, letting Chris's hand slide further into his lap.
"First off I'm not sure that's how this works. And I dunno, man. I like where this is goin'. I like… talkin' like this. I wanna do more of it. More often. OK? Not just to talk me outta my pants." He flashed a toothy grin. "And I wanna see those baby pictures. You've got two weeks to find time for me to get over to your mom's and see 'em. Got that?"
"Yeah," Chris replied, almost absent-mindedly as his hand swam in small laps over Daniel's thigh. He forced himself to stop, and focus. "I'm not... I swear I'm not trying to be pushy, or just..." He shook his head, hand rising up from Daniel's body for a moment to push long hair behind one ear. The same hand went right back to where it had been, this time gripping what he badly wished was naked flesh.
"I like this too. I want all of it, Daniel. I want you, I want what we have. I like you, a lot. I fucking love you. I miss us hanging out, I miss eating your face, among other things," he added, smirking, unable to stop himself. "I miss you with your clothes off, I miss getting your texts first thing in the morning. I'll tell you whatever you wanna know, I swear.
"You know, you're only halfway through your 20. I'm definitely not trying to stop you..." Chris offered, his hand sliding much further down, but stopping just before it hit what he'd consider the sweet spot.
"You are," Daniel said, "but I don't think I mind too much. I'm savin' all the questions I have left, though. You never said I had to knock 'em all out in one go, so…" He shrugged, canting his head at a rakish little angle, his lips pursed in a pout. "You got me spoiled now with all this openness and shit. I won't go back."
"Brat," Chris replied, laughing softly.
Daniel's gaze was distracted; it flickered over Chris's face, to the long, dark locks tucked untidily behind his ears. His tongue flicked over his lips and he reached out, pushing an errant wisp of hair back into place. "So in the interests of bein' totally honest I'll say I really dig your hair like this."
"Yeah?" Chris's hand moved on Daniel's thigh, rubbing up and down in a soft motion. "Good, I'm glad. I just... I guess I didn't know what to do with it, so I just... let it be. Kinda started liking it longer. Getting into that whole 'man bun' vibe." He leaned, as little as he could possibly hold himself back, into that small touch. His gaze flicked from Daniel's eyes, to his mouth, and back again, his own jaw gritting as he tried to think of what to do next.
"I like this," he finally said. "Just having you back with me." He paused again, other questions and wants vying for space behind his lips. He chewed the corner of his mouth. "Tell me what you want. Right now, what you want in this moment. You just wanna sit here, that's cool. Watch the game, that... that kind of thing..."
"What I want," Daniel echoed, subtle laughter in his tone. He shook his head. But rather than move away from Chris, to put the distance between them he knew he should maintain, he leaned forward. His fingers slid back through Chris's hair. After the briefest hesitation he pulled him into a bruising kiss. It had been too long, far too long; Daniel breathed him in, crushing Chris's mouth beneath his own, as though he meant to consume him. His nails dug into Chris's nape; taken by surprise, Chris moaned against Daniel's mouth, the sound naked and raw.
"I wanna know," Daniel ground out, his teeth scraping over the swell of Chris's lower lip, "you really want me. Not—" He sighed, embarrassed of his own foolishness, his need, his naked vulnerability, but he carried on all the same, his hands circling loose around Chris's neck. Between hungry kisses he tried to make himself understood. "Not just… this. Everything. Convince me."
"Jesu christo," Chris muttered, his own hands quick to place themselves on Daniel's body; one inching fingers inside Daniel's pantline, the other that had been hovering so close to his groin moving to massage that very area. "Don't have to tell me twice." He grinned for a moment into Daniel's mouth, then replied with a liplock of his own that matched Daniel's ferocity. Try as he might, he couldn't drown the sounds from his throat, but after a minute, let them be, focused on other things.
Palm stroking Daniel through his pants, Chris instead changed tactics to unbutton and unzipper his ex—could he even use that term anymore? The wondering was washed away quickly enough—to allow his hand to plunge inside that perfectly tight clothing. He left the thin layer of underwear between his hand and Daniel's member, close enough that he could all but feel tender skin.
"Just you, papi," he replied to Daniel's challenge, his words little more than hot breath over Daniel's lips. "I just want you."
Daniel groaned in answer. His lips parted against Chris's own, his tongue thrusting past them as though he could lap up each delicious word. His fingers tangled in Chris's hair, wrapping long locks around his hand. In a flash of unwanted thought he felt sure BB would judge him for this, would assure him he was short-sighted and stupid and so much else he knew to be true. But now, with Chris's body pressed to his, that familiar hand against his body, he could not possibly have cared less.
He reached down to shuck his jeans, shoving them into a pile at his ankles. His fitted black boxer-briefs remained, hugging hard hipbones, the line of his stiffening length just barely visible beneath thin cloth. He swore under his breath. His teeth scratched over Chris's lower lip. And all the while he did not let go of his partner, did not loosen his grip from Chris's hair for an instant.
"Prove it," he gasped, breathless already. "I wanna hear it."
Chris exhaled hard, his head locked in place by Daniel's grip. But he resented none of it, his fingers seeking their way into Daniel's pants, wrapping themselves around his partner's length. His thumb passed alongside the member, both the physical feeling and the vivid memory of how it felt inside him making him shudder.
"I love you," he replied, his free hand grasping at Daniel's shirt. "I love you, Daniel."
Some part of Daniel hesitated, disbelieving. An ache stirred in his gut, a melancholy uncertainty nearly as strong as the lust that guided his hands to grip Chris all the more tightly. He shoved it aside as best he could. With a gasp of a breath he pulled Chris up and over him as he lay back on the couch. Daniel's shirt rode up, buttons straining with the sudden, indelicate motion. One hand stayed firm in Chris's hair; the other trailed down his back, fingers splayed over the thin tee shirt that separated their skin. He sucked at Chris's lip, his hand steadily moving further downward until it grabbed the swell of his ass.
"God, I've missed you," he whispered.
Chris's legs parted, clutching around Daniel's waist as he came to a lying position atop his ex's form. Partner? He wasn't sure how to frame this interaction, but another part of him shushed that voice in favor of enjoying what was happening. What he hoped was happening. The feel of Daniel's hand on his ass certainly promised certain things.
"Probably not as much as I've missed you," he shot back, hoping his carefully worded teasing barb would be welcomed. His hands were out of Daniel's pants, instead resting on his shoulders, but there were plenty of other ways to inspire the feelings he wanted to evoke in the other man; namely, the simple shifting of his hips back and forth, rubbing his own semi-engorged cock near that of Daniel's, still covered by the thin cloth of his boxers. He tried to move his head, but found himself held in place by Daniel's grip.
"I definitely wasn't thinking of fetishes when I grew my hair out, but I could get used to this," he added, moving forward as much as he was able until his hair was straining against his scalp. Hands wandered down Daniel's sides to the edges of his buttoned shirt, hiking it up further so he could feel warm flesh.
Had Daniel's hands not been so wonderfully occupied he might have moved to help him. As it was, though, he managed some degree of self control, keeping his grip firm on Chris's body. His black button-up and the fitted black tank beneath were little enough of a barrier; if he had any hope of holding himself back, he needed all the help he could get.
But the longer he touched his erstwhile lover the less certain he was that holding back was even what he wanted. His body ached for the intimacy he had not had since Mercy. Something deeper and stronger within him longed for the connection he and Chris had once shared. Torn, he groaned his frustration against Chris's lips. His hips rose to Chris's, their bodies sliding against one another. Daniel whispered a curse. His hand dipped beneath the waistband of Chris's pants, grasping greedily at bare flesh.
The jeans pulled taut around Chris's leg, clenching around muscle that didn't much care to be handled in such a fashion. But Chris was not about to complain, not after finally getting what he'd wanted for months. He shifted on top of Daniel, biting back a pained sound that threatened to mingle with the moans that the other man was delightfully teasing out of him, and reached a hand down far enough to undo the button and zipper of his clothing. Having thus granted himself a touch more relief, he focused instead on Daniel's buttons, undoing only a handful before giving into his own growing frustration and impatience and simply popping them off.
"I'll buy you a new one," he half-groaned as he pushed the black tank up, revealing tight, sunkissed flesh that was oh-so-warm and so familiar. Chris pressed his mouth to Daniel's, thrusting his tongue deep over the other man's.
Daniel opened his mouth to him, his tongue sliding beneath Chris's, beckoning him in. He was smiling now, memories of so many other trysts like this dancing through his mind. Chris's body on his felt like home, and for the moment he had no desire to feel anything but joy at that.
He did not want to admit how much he enjoyed that commingling of pain and pleasure in his partner's voice. It stirred him all the same, and set his hands to clenching tighter on the body above him. He pushed at Chris's clothes, hitching jeans and underwear lower, exposing still more fair skin. The game's announcers cut in and over Chris's voice, excited for a moment, but Daniel heard nothing of what they said. His hips rose again beneath Chris's. His hand curved at the nape of his neck, gripping tight, holding him forcefully in place. The other moved between them, pushing beneath what little cloth remained, until warm fingers circled Chris's length.
Chris sucked a breath through his teeth, hips already thrusting reflexively into Daniel's hand.
"If you wanted my pants off, all you had to do was say so," he chided, his teasing tone interrupted by another gasp. Chris's head was spinning at the surrealness of the encounter; he hadn't honestly expected things to go as well as they were, despite his earlier words to June, though he had desperately hoped they might. He tried to move his head again, his hands sliding up Daniel's chest to his pectorals, tweaking a nipple. "I missed this," he said as his mouth moved off of Daniel's (as much as it could, with Daniel's possessive touch), nipping at the corner of his lips and his jaw. Feeling that slight strain, Daniel loosened his grip just enough to allow Chris a better range of motion.
"It's so much more fun this way," Daniel teased. The pad of his thumb moved soft over the head of him, caressing tender flesh he had gone too long without; true to Daniel's words, Chris shivered. "I missed it, too. Makin' you squirm a little… it's always better when you gotta work for it." A chuckle broke free from Chris's lips to hear his words from earlier shot back in his face; his hips jutted back and forth, his eyes half-lidded at the caress.
At last Daniel's hand untangled altogether from Chris's hair. His free hand trailed down Chris's back, feeling him move as he stroked and teased him. He kissed him again, watching his face as he drew Chris's lower lip in his mouth. He sucked slick skin in time with the motions of his hand, a sort of subtle promise he wasn't sure he intended to keep. Then his eyes darted away, looking between them, color rising to his face as he asked a foolish, ill-advised question:
"You been with anybody, since…?"
Chris leaned back, one hand holding him aloft as he choked down on a laugh at Daniel's bare neediness. He both relished and resented the question, much as before, and he took a moment to compose his answer.
"No," he started, wondering if Daniel was trying to suss out if Chris wanted to hurt him for his actions with that girl from earlier; Chris didn't care one way or the other, especially not now that he was the one with Daniel on his back. "I..." He sat back completely, his hip giving a twinge of pain as he settled on Daniel's scantily clad crotch. "I wanted this too much, and..." A hand rose, swiping through his hair; an indication of anxiety. Chris forced his eyes to Daniel's face, even if the other man wasn't going to meet his gaze. Daniel brought his hands to rest at Chris's hips, but kept both his thoughts and his gaze carefully guarded.
"I had a lot of baggage to work through. I know I put you through a lot of shit; but, fuck, you make me feel so much more comfortable just with myself. I... I'm not going to find that with someone else, at least, not for a long time. And I just... I just want you. You make me feel like I'm, I'm not broken, or a piece of shit, or just... anything other than normal."
Even had he wanted to, Daniel could not have concealed his relief at that. His thumbs slid over Chris's hips; his nails dug shallowly into his skin. He glanced up, searching Chris's face, enjoying the nerves he saw displayed there far more than he cared to admit. Chris bit his lip, wondering if he'd misstepped; he could feel his heart thundering in his chest. To his surprise, Daniel leaned up toward him, shifting to sit up beneath him. He wrapped his arms around Chris and pulled him into a tight embrace. Chris's arms wound tight around Daniel's shoulders and neck.
"I got news for you," he said, grinning against Chris's mouth, speaking in the breaks between a steady stream of kisses. "You're not broken, but you're definitely not normal, either. Wouldn't have you any other way." An abashed grin broke out over Chris's face, his cheeks blooming the same color Daniel's had been earlier.
A few more kisses seemed to help Daniel make up his mind. He shifted enough to lean around Chris, tugging his jeans off the rest of the way. Then he rose from the couch, his partner clutched tightly in his arms, kissing him even as he fumbled his way to the unfamiliar new bedroom. Chris helped as much as he could, tightening his legs around Daniel's waist as he offered some directional advice even as his mouth found its way down his partner's jaw to his throat.
"No, left... not that one, the other door," he muttered against Daniel's skin as the man almost steered them into a closet; then he felt his back push open the door to his sparsely decorated boudoir. Before they reached the bed, Chris unhooked his legs from around Daniel's waist, bringing the other man to a stop as he came carefully to standing. Chris's hands went to Daniel's cheeks, his thumbs lightly tracing the edges of Daniel's mouth as he pulled the other man's face down for a kiss.
His hands didn't linger there for long, one immediately going to the other man's now-ripped button up shirt, pushing it off both shoulders. The other hand went down to the tank underneath, simultaneously pushing it up while sliding its palm along taut, warm skin. His teeth caught at the swell of Daniel's bottom lip, stretching it. Daniel moaned in response, pressing closer, his own hands wandering over every part of his partner within reach.
When he opened his eyes it was to observe the room around them. One quick flicker of his dark gaze was enough to take in the room; it lacked the clutter of his own, as well as a certain coziness Daniel felt it required. I can fix that, he thought. He smiled against Chris's mouth and pushed him further back, until the backs of his legs touched the side of the bed. Chris grasped at Daniel for support with the minor movement, his touch telegraphing both his uncertainty and his trust.
"I'm not sure you're ready for this," Daniel teased. His kisses trailed lower; he bit sharply at Chris's throat, then his clavicle. His hands went to the hem of Chris's tee, hitching it ever upward. He broke their kiss long enough to pull Chris's shirt over his head. The shirt fell to the floor and Daniel moved to exposed skin, trailing lips and teeth and tongue down Chris's body as he knelt in front of him. Chris sucked in a breath, his hands descending with Daniel's form to rest on a shoulder and his head, fingers twisting lightly in the other man's black hair. Despite his attempt to remain cool and confident verbally, he could not still a slight tremor in his hands, born of the anxiety he'd do something to mess this up in a more permanent manner.
"Ready for whatever you wanna throw at me, papi," he returned, overeagerness and impatience and a tinge of desperate want coloring his words. "You can do whatever, or tell me to do whatever... Leave a man high and dry for so many months, I'll take whatever you want."
"Damn right you will."
Then Daniel abandoned words altogether. Instead he wrote his desire on Chris's skin with lips and teeth and tongue. His fingers hooked in Chris's boxers, pulling them down. He wanted to go slow; he wanted to draw this out. But the more flesh he exposed the more distant his inhibitions felt, until at last he pressed his mouth to Chris's skin without a second thought or a flicker of regret. His fingers splayed, his hands sliding back to grip tight fistfuls of Chris's backside as he took his length fully in his mouth.
Chris shuddered, his hands going tighter on Daniel's hair and shoulder to continue holding himself aloft. His spine bowed as he sucked in a breath; then his hips jutted forward of their own volition. Pain in his hip pulsed, but he ignored it for the moment; and it was easy, right then, to be concentrating on the thing he'd wanted for so long.
"Jesu christo," he muttered, unable to completely silence himself. "You keep this up, I'm gonna have to sit."
Daniel hummed around Chris's length; it almost sounded like laughter, choked as it was. He dragged his tongue down tender flesh as he withdrew, however briefly. He looked up to his partner, dark lashes lowered, eyes heavy with want even as laughter lit up his dark eyes.
"Consider this physical therapy," he teased. His tongue flicked over the tip of him. Then he swallowed Chris down again, holding him up with an unyielding grip. Chris snorted, the sound choked into a gasp as he leaned forward over Daniel's form. The hand wound in Daniel's hair moved to the one grasping at his waist; to say that he found his partner's strength flattering and even more of a turn on was an understatement.
"I missed that," he muttered, eyes going half-lidded for a moment. "Not just the blow job," he quickly added, fingers on Daniel's hand sliding down just enough to twine fingers around the other man's wrist. "Your attitude. God, I wanna fuck you."
Daniel filled the silence with a little hum. It served as answer enough, as did the tightening of his hand on Chris's hip, nails digging into flesh beneath the press of Chris's grip. Slowly he pulled his mouth away, his tongue dragging up his length, measuring its span with careful, gentle flicks. His gaze turned upward, glinting with laughter and unveiled want. He rocked up onto the balls of his feet. His teeth scraped rough over Chris's hip bone. His voice was a warm whisper over tender flesh.
"Then fuck me," he said, bluntly challenging.
Chris didn't have to be told twice; he was one who rarely let an opportunity slip by, and this moment was no exception. Once Daniel was standing in front of him, his grasp went to the other man's hips; but instead of simply using him as mooring to stand, Chris twisted him onto the bed behind him, the two of them hitting the comforter just above the mattress on their sides.
"On your back," he breathed in the spare moment he let Daniel have any other use of his mouth aside from its main purpose just then. He could feel his own lips swelling, but he had no intention of slowing down. As Daniel rolled over Chris struggled to his knees, sliding down Daniel's body with teeth, tongue, and his palms, pushing the other man's legs into the air as he settled between them.
"You know, I gotta admit," he started as he traced his way around one hip and toward Daniel's groin. "I had an ulterior motive for dragging you to the gym. Wasn't just to ogle this gorgeous ass," he admitted cheekily, one hand holding a crooked knee palming down tawny skin to grope said backside. "Wanted to be able to fuck you better." That same hand slid further, a finger toying at Daniel's entrance.
Daniel sucked in a breath. "That… yeah. Not surprised." He laughed, shifting his hips with a tight little motion. "I'm definitely not mad about it." He looked down the length of his body, watching Chris move against him. A fresh thrill ran through him at the sight. He licked his lips, bitten and kiss-swollen, and drew their lower swell between his teeth once more. A growl of a sound escaped him, needy and demanding.
"No wonder you were such a—ah, right there—willing student."
Chris grinned all the wider, his fingers taking the small direction they'd been given. "The right motivation..." His brows rose and fell. He withdrew that touch, spiralling slowly away from Daniel's hole. Instead, both hands pushed Daniel into a lopsided, bent position, his legs splayed wide. "And I have missed this for far too long," he added, his mouth biting the inside of one thigh, sliding down toward that same spot he'd just been toying with.
His tongue traced a careful, tight spiral toward Daniel's hole, outlining that familiar entrance. One hand moved behind the other man, fingers slowly caressing up and down the shape of the valley between both cheeks as he ate his fill of the other man's backside.
Sighing softly, content, Daniel's hands slid down the length of his own bare body, until his hands came to rest atop Chris's still one. His hips shifted as he spread his knees farther apart, opening himself up to that gentle, probing kiss. He sucked in a sharp breath as Chris's tongue pressed into him once more.
"Fuck you're good at that." With heavy-lidded eyes he looked down his body, watching Chris's head move with his careful ministrations. Chris's head came up once, mouth smirking cheekily, before descending once more—his tongue flicked against Daniel's tight hole. Daniel's free hand reached down to wrap in Chris's long, thick hair. "I—" Words failed him; they broke on a long, low moan. His head tipped back, eyes falling shut for a moment. His hand clenched tight in his hair once again, as though that motion might center him somehow. And it did, for a moment; long enough, at least, to finish his sentence. "I like this," he said. "Your hair." He tugged again, playful, a sly smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.
Chris allowed the tug to pull him away from what he'd been doing; he could have stayed there for much, much longer, but if the evening's trajectory was any indication, he'd have more opportunities in the future. Instead, he wanted other things—he gently set Daniel down, laying him out flat, before crawling as gracefully as he was able up the length of his lover's body.
"Well I like when you do that with it," he replied, making sure Daniel's grip on his locks remained where it was even as he leaned into catch the other man's mouth. Teeth nibbled along the swell of his bottom lip, his tongue surging into new depths that it had tasted and enjoyed before. "You promise to keep doing that while I fuck you?"
Unable to answer otherwise, Daniel responded with a long, low moan muffled against Chris's tongue. His fingers threaded through his partner's hair, promising more to come; the sensation left Chris moaning softly into Daniel's mouth. Daniel opened mouth and body to Chris; he raised one leg to circle Chris's waist. The other slid soft down Chris's good leg, caressing, relearning the body he had sworn off for too long.
Greedy, he thrust his tongue over Chris's, tasting him as if for the first time. Short nails dug into Chris's scalp. More, his body said, near trembling with want. A slight shiver coursed through him, punctuating his need. The telegraphed message was more than clear; Chris pressed his own swollen mouth to his beau once more, before tearing himself away to reach for the drawer of his nightstand. A quick moment later, he was slicking himself and Daniel, then pressing the tip of his member to his partner's entrance. Daniel wrapped his legs tight around Chris, wriggling his hips to settle his lover closer against him.
The feeling of Daniel's warm, tight body gripping him tightly had Chris groaning into Daniel's mouth once more. He pressed hard and fast for this first foray, remembering well what his former boyfriend enjoyed, and eager to prove that he was more than capable in every way Daniel might want. One hand pressed into the bed, holding himself up to give himself a better angle. Daniel's hands clenched violently, fingers laced through Chris's locks; the other man hissed, but did not slow. Daniel's back sharply arched.
He broke their kiss—for a moment, at least—with a roughly murmured curse. Then his teeth were in Chris's lower lip, biting fiercely, prodding him toward still greater violence. It seemed as if he meant to consume his partner: His kisses grew rougher, hungrier, all sharp teeth and probing tongue. His hips snapped against Chris's, grinding his body down onto Chris's own. For his part, Chris seemed all too eager to be consumed. He moaned, hips snapping again and again into Daniel's body beneath him; teeth managed to snag Daniel's bottom lip, pulling it taut.
"God, you taste amazing," he muttered between thrusts and kisses. His neck stretched, muscles and sinew tight against the feeling of Daniel tugging his hair in the opposing direction. The slight feeling of pressure in his hip was a nagging reminder, but Chris felt too lost to other sensations to pay it much mind.
Daniel was oblivious. All his focus was fixed on the sole points of their joining, on the twin, welcome pains at his mouth and entrance. Heat coiled in his belly. He felt himself tremble, already close to that wonderful edge. His hands relaxed. One fell to Chris's chest, then down to his belly, where he could better feel his body move with every thrust. The other remained loosely wrapped in Chris's long hair. The pads of his fingers glided over the places he'd pulled perhaps too sharply, soothing each small pain.
"Jesus," he said, his voice shaky against Chris's mouth. His hand tightened, loosed, tightened again. Black eyes rolled heavenward. "I— please, Chris. Fuck—"
Chris leaned into that familiar and comforting form; when he had a moment, he pressed his profile against Daniel's, escaping the clutching fingers in his hair. His own hand snaked up, grasping a wet patch of black hair. He jerked Daniel's head back, teeth nipping gently at sweat-slicked skin. Daniel cried out, but made no move to free himself.
"Tell me you love me," he muttered, his thrusts never abating for a moment as he drove harder and deeper into his lover. The pain in his hip flared, an intense heat spreading out from the joint; Chris hissed, but quickly masked the sound. "Tell me."
"I—" Daniel moaned; his head lolled back against the pillow, held in place only by Chris's fierce grip. He arched his throat toward each biting kiss. Again he tried to speak, only to find himself newly weak with each thrust. His tongue slipped out to wet his swollen lips. "I love you," he gasped. His hands wrapped tight around Chris's upper arms, thumbs sliding over taut muscle. "I love you, Cristobal. I love you. Jesus fuck, yes, I love you."
The words fell from his lips like a mantra, breathless, automatic. Another bone-deep shudder coursed through him. And then he came, still whispering his love into Chris's skin above him, still begging for more with every hungry touch of his hands. Chris whimpered into Daniel's mouth, feeling tears sting his eyes; they were partly from the heady emotion running through him, and partly from the pain ebbing over his leg to the point that the muscles were locking up. Still he thrust twice more, spending himself inside the other man as his mouth bit and kissed against Daniel's.
And then they were left in a sweaty pile of flesh and cum, the latter sticking to both men's stomachs as Chris lay atop Daniel. He kept pressing kisses to the other man, his whole body paralyzed for the moment as his thigh throbbed.
"Thank you," he muttered, feeling those same tears roll over his cheeks. One hand reached to wipe them away, the rest of him doing its best to shift up and off of Daniel. A hiss of pain followed the gratitude, matching Chris's physical state to that of his mental one.
Daniel's arms slipped around Chris, carefully drawing him close. "I gotcha," he whispered. He pressed his lips to the faint tracks of Chris's tears and kissed each one away. "Hey. I gotcha. You're good." He rolled Chris onto his side. Daniel settled against him, fitted like a puzzle piece: legs intertwined, bellies sticky and hot, flush chests still heaving from their exertion. With a smile he nuzzled into Chris's profile, nipping at his cheek. "All that exercise is doin' you good. God damn. Thank you."
Chris hiccuped a laugh, content to be moved where Daniel bid. His hip continued to throb, but there was nowhere he'd rather be.
"There was an attempt," he muttered. He nuzzled back at Daniel. "You wanna stay over? I wanna make you breakfast. And just. Want you to stay." He did his best to keep the neediness he felt out of his voice, but it was there all the same. Daniel fought back a smile upon hearing it, more relieved than he dared show.
"Mmhm. I'll stay. But you better rest up, 'cause I want a round two. Maybe three."
A grin broke out across Chris's face. "God, you're demanding," he laughed. "I missed you." He leaned into Daniel's profile, catching the other man's mouth, eagerly waiting for the pain in his leg to ebb.