beautifulandnew | (no subject)

(no subject)

Part of me thought there might have been a possibility that 'takeout and crafts' had taken on a new meaning. Perhaps it was code now, a less hip version of 'Netflix and chill'. Much, much less hip, considering the source.

Once inside Danny's apartment, however, it quickly became pretty clear that there was no hidden meaning. There was takeout and there was crafting paraphernalia.

It's been a week and I'm no less confused now than I was then. Maybe even a bit more so right now, sitting here, neither of us having actually acknowledged what had happened. Is he expecting me to play along? Eat and drink and cut construction paper and never speak of it? Is that what he plans to do? Or has he blocked it out? Did he have more to drink that night than I realized? Because there's a whole movement and hashtag now that I would potentially have to answer to.

Maybe agreeing to come was a bad idea. I'm not sure I'm prepared to pretend to deal with takeout and crafts if all it really is is takeout and crafts. I'm not sure I'm prepared to deal with the alternative either.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Huh. In-interesting."

Danny gets that a lot. Women never seem to want to leave in the mornings. They're always clinging on to his chest like a limpet while pretending to still be asleep, hair and make up miraculously retouched. Danny's alarm clock is military grade. They're not fooling anybody.

In that respect, it was sort of nice not to have to peel another body off him in the morning. On the other hand, it didn't feel that great waking up alone, especially not after that.

"You should have stayed. Or at least left a note. Leaving without a word wasn't FBFs."

Hedwig could have at least had the decency to stay and freak out with him.

A note? Clearly he's watched one too many rom-coms with Mindy. "Fuck Buddies Forever?" Well that's fortuitous...

"You say that now because we're a week out." I've known Danny long enough to knew a level head does not prevail in the heat of the moment. And I wouldn't have even been able to blame him if I had been there while his head was going through the roof. "You already agreed that was the safest way. You can't have them both."

"That's not what that means and you know it," Danny protests with a chastising point of his finger. At least he doesn't think that's what it means. Holy cannelloni.

He sits upright, stretching his spine and tipping his head back imploringly. For help. For forgiveness, maybe. There's so much guilt.

"Is it hot in here?" He asks, pinching his shirt and wafting. "It's hot as hell." He wipes his forearm across his dampening forehead, revealing a sweat patch under his arm. "Oh boy." He stands, intent on opening a window or ten to get some air into the apartment. "Talk about the lair of Lucifer."

Since he made it up, I don't actually know what the letters mean. Or what he thinks they mean.

"It's just you." He's free to interpret that how he likes. He didn't go out of his way to get a blanket because it was hot in here. "Maybe you're flashing. You are of a certain age."

Or maybe he can actually feel the fires of Hell coming for him.

Until a short while ago, Danny wouldn't have thought twice before taking his shirt off in front of Hedwig to cool down. They're pals, close friends even. But now it just feels kind of cruel. He opens a window instead, bracing himself against the frame, hanging his head and breathing deeply. Exhaust fumes, air conditioning and Nuts 4 Nuts fill his lungs. Ah, that's the stuff.

"I'm not flashin'," he drawls. "Castellano men don't flash, we got too much testosterone for that."

"Do all Castellano men sweat like a whore in church?" I ask, grabbing for the blanket on the back of the couch and wrapping it around my shoulders.

"It's October. In New York."

"I'm cursed with an outstanding metabolism," Danny explains, turning around so his back can cool down as well. "That's my cross to bear. Richie too but he doesn't sweat, not since he started wearing pleated pants at 8."

"Such a hardship. I honestly don't know how you survive day to day."

Sighing, I push back up to my feet, keeping the blanket with me as I head into the kitchen. I help myself to a beer, popping the cap off on the edge of the counter. Danny's personal brew tastes like a craft store smells, which is strangely fitting, I guess.

"Not on the counter," Danny pleads but it's too late, the damage is done. He closes the window roughly and heads straight over to inspect the counter top for marks. "Hedwig, please, this is-- is that a chip?" He crouches down to examine it closely. "That's--okay, not a chip. You got lucky. This time. There is a perfectly good bottle opener on the table."

He sighs as he pulls himself back up, tiring of all the pretending. Brutal honesty, that always makes him or breaks him.

Danny hops up onto the counter to give himself an extra inch or two of height and rubs his hands over his face.

"Alright, I'm gonna give you a list of reasons why this," he gestures between them, "you and me won't work, okay? And then, 'cause I'm a fair guy, you can have the floor for any counter arguments you wanna present. Okay, I'll start." He rolls his shoulders to loosen up. "One, you're not Catholic. Two, you're not Catholic. That bears repeatin'. Three, not only are you not Catholic, you're basically godless. I dunno if I should intimately associate myself with someone that might seriously jeopardise my chances of getting through those pearly gates. Four, you are taller than me by quite a bit and I find that very difficult to overcome. Five--you might wanna take a seat..."

It's not a short list.

"I don't remember you having any difficulty overcoming the height difference a week ago," I remind him, followed by a pointed sip of beer and not bothering to take a seat either.

"And I've had sex with your Priest. That probably puts me closer to God than you've ever been."

"Ah ah ah, did I say I'd yielded the floor?" Danny gripes, arms outstretched before he slaps his hands over his ears when Hedwig reminds him about his Priest back in Darrow.

"La la la! Six, you don't take direction well!" He continues pointedly, eyes screwed shut and a pained expression on his face.

"That's not what your Priest said," I mumble behind the neck of the bottle before sliding it onto the counter.

"Seven? How many more are there exactly?"

"There's so many," Danny groans, dragging his hands down his cheeks in a show of long-suffering despair.

"It's strange how all the reasons why this," I say, mirroring his earlier gesture, "won't work are about what's wrong with me." Stranger still is how none of those things seemed to matter last week. And that one of what I would consider the most obvious reasons didn't even make the top three. He's either being polite or his sense of self-preservation is very high right now.

"Your beer tastes like a Bath and Body Works candle."

It's a childish jab, but I don't feel like being polite.

There's a familiar flare of outrage when Hedwig disrespects his beer, but something occurs to Danny a moment later which causes his stomach to flip flop. It bumps down yelling about the insult a notch or two in priority.

His hands drop into his lap and he gives his knees a short, somewhat anxious, rub. Even so, the corner of his mouth starts to curl into a smile that is first directed at said knees before it grows a little more and he lifts his head slightly, turning it on Hedwig. It's a smile of surprise, sincerity and a bit of shyness.

"That's your only reason?" Danny asks quietly. Because as far as cons go, that can be fixed pretty easily once Hedwig has refined his taste buds.

"Put that away," I demand, pointing at his face and that stupid lopsided smile. It's endearing, normally, but I don't want to be endeared right now.

"Those weren't reasons, that was an airing of grievances. So, no, that wouldn't be my only grievance but there are only so many hours in a day."

"Put what away?" Danny asks, feigning ignorance, the smile going nowhere fast. He can't say he didn't enjoy Hedwig's reaction just then.

"You're not nearly as charming as you think you are," I warn him, drumming my fingers on the countertop.

"Or as charming as you think I think you are." That absolutely made sense.

A small huff of laughter escapes him. Shoulders slouching, he drops his gaze back down to his hands, smile naturally fading. "Alright," he breathes, rubbing a thumb in the centre of his palm.

He can think of so many reasons why it's a bad idea, his mind has been running through them practically 24/7 the last few days. Danny's found it kind of exhausting, actually.

"D'you wanna just try and forget about it?" He asks bluntly, hopping down from the counter. "Good friends are hard to come by."

"Maybe for middle age shut-ins who spend their nights at home watching crab fishing and playing with matchsticks." Danny hadn't run into me on a night like that back in Darrow. And social media isn't even an option, so becoming good friends with someone through the power of the internet, in the comfort of his own home, isn't even an option.

"If I say no we won't be good friends?"

"If you say no is that all you're gonna want to be?" Danny throws back. He rests his hands on his waist, drawing in a fortifying breath and letting it out again in a rush.

"Nothing has to change." Friends with benefits isn't a new concept. We're adults... mostly. In theory, we can compartmentalize. "It's sex, Danny, no one is forcing you into a Facebook relationship status update."

Thanks to Mindy, Danny knows exactly what one of those is and the mere thought of that happening is enough to tempt the sweat back.

"So you're saying...“ His eyes wander coyly. "We could do this sometimes and nobody would have to know?" His gaze snaps instantly back to Hedwig. "Nobody knows, right?"

"Are you... asking me if I've told anyone?" Who would believe me? If I were able to travel back in time and tell a past version of myself a conversation like this was even happening with Danny, I wouldn't believe me. Not even necessarily from that far back in the past. Yesterday was probably far enough.

"No. And unless you're planning on inviting a third, it can stay that way." I shrug.

Danny expected to feel a rush of relief but it's barely a drop in the ocean. The only Guy that really matters not only knows but had a bird's eye view. The things He must have seen. At least he prayed afterwards.

And a little bit during.

"How many "cuddle buddies" have you had in the past that you're still friends with now?" Danny asks, air quoting the phrase. He's had casual relationships before but not with anyone he cared about as much as he does Hedwig.