beautifulandnew | (no subject)

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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.

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"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.

Ones that don't pay...?

"One." I'm not sure 'friend' is the right word. Groupie makes it sound pretentious, but I did meet him after a performance. And then again at four more following that before anything happened. The first time, he paid. Anything after that was pity sex. Nearly forty-five, married with two kids and closeted. Someone has to take pity on him.

"Oh." Danny lowers his head, feeling kind of sheepish. So it is possible for friendships to withstand casual relations. Or it is for Hedwig, anyway.

Danny's never achieved it before; one of them always ended up getting hurt and it wasn't usually him. None of the women made much effort to stay 'friends' with Danny after, but then again, neither did he.

"He must be a pretty special guy if he's the only pal to survive, huh." Danny purses his lips as if to hold back the question, eyes on the blanket around Hedwig's shoulders. "Are you, I mean, is he, are you FBFs with him too?"

"No. It's different. I think I'm just cheaper than therapy would be," I explain, realizing how that sounds, but it's true enough.

"What with the health care system being the way it is... Why are we talking about him? He's not here."

"Ahh I didn't need to hear that," Danny gripes under his breath. Hedwig's choice of self-employment is numbers 10 through 25 on the list of reasons why they should nip this in the bud now.

Does he even pay taxes?

"Executive decision, okay," he says, rubbing his forehead. "We're gonna hug it out, okay, like," he closes the distance between them tentatively and wraps his arms around Hedwig in a loose embrace, "like this, hug it out like this." He pats Hedwig's back and shoulder gently. "Until, yeah..."

"Hug what out?" What is happening? Whatever this is, it's much weirder than the sex had been "Until what?" I ask, standing still.

Danny begins to settle, his hold starting to tighten into a proper hug. If it takes him a few moments longer than a normal person, that's only because showcases of physical affection from Danny are few and far between. His brother and his Ma are the usual recipients.

"Until we feel better," he says in a gruff voice, sucking in a long deep breath through his nose.

Apparently Danny's best coping skill comes all the was from elementary school. This is the kind of thing they force kids who have been fighting in the schoolyard to do. It's a hug, not a magic wand.

"...all I feel is how damp your shirt is."

Danny finds Hedwig's lack of reciprocation strange. It had taken him a long time to realize Hedwig had a crush on him back in Darrow and since being back in New York, they've hung out tons. After last week, Danny was sort of expecting to be pounced on.

"Quit your complaining or I'll take it off."

"What is wrong with you?" I ask, twisting to pull myself out of his hold, balling up the blanket and tossing that at him if he still needs something to squeeze to make him feel better.

"You sit there and lay out a list of why this doesn't work because of what's wrong with me and then that?" It goes well beyond mixed signals. Even if it was a joke, how does now feel like the appropriate time? "You can look, but you can't have." Which is nothing new, least of all with regards to Danny, but that was before I had.

Danny drags the corner of the blanket off his head, revealing a look of contrition on his face.

"I'm sorry! Look, I'm, I realize how that sounded, really that was not cool, not cool," he insists, taking a step closer again. "It was very insensitive of--"

He suddenly drops the blanket and reaches both hands up to Hedwig's face.

Danny can't finish his apology when his mouth is busy kissing.

Danny being hot one minute and cold the next is enough to make my head spin. His lips suddenly against mine don't help. I still want to be annoyed at him, but I quickly decide that there's time for that later. It's probably only a matter of minuted before he's blowing cold once again.

I return the kiss, a hand braced against his chest. Why is he doing this? I'm not any more Catholic now than I was four minutes ago.

Danny hasn't really thought beyond the kiss. To be honest, he hadn't really thought before the kiss either, but here they are.

For a second he thinks the palm on his chest is there to push him away, so he instinctively deepens the kiss, shifting his hands to take a more determined hold of Hedwig's face. One thumb rubs minutely over a cheek.

Everything last week went by in such a blur, it all happened so quickly. Danny didn't have a chance to fully appreciate the simpler things like a kiss. The bubbling vulnerability he can feel lurking just beneath his skin is a strong reminder why he'd been okay with rushing through this part the first time.

"Seven," he murmurs, hoping this joke isn't as poorly timed. "I'm gonna need PT for the neckache I'm gonna get from kissing you from down here."

Is this actually happening? What are the chances that I've actually fallen asleep watching crab fishing? Or perhaps I succeed in impaling myself with that toothpick.

"How is that any different from number four?" I ask followed by another kiss. "Invest in a step stool."

"It's different," Danny gets out before Hedwig kisses him again, like he thinks that ought to be a satisfactory answer.

"A step stool? Don't those cost like thirty bucks?" Danny is definitely not ready for that level of commitment. At best he could maybe hire one on a trial basis, but would it even be worth it? The height difference is only an issue if they're both standing up.

He tilts his head and pulls Hedwig down by the jaw, slipping him the tongue. Danny might hate foreigners but he sure can't deny that the French know how to kiss.

And clearly they taught the Germans.

"That's a steal," I insist before he makes it more or less impossible to say much at all. It's probably for the best. Reminding him that others pay much more than that for me might not have been the wisest decision.

I move a hand to his back, fingers twisting into the fabric of his tshirt, the hand on his chest drift lower.

"So... about that coin collection of yours," I say quietly against his lips, biting down not so gently to make it clear I'm not actually interested in the coins.

The Ass Grab - it's a signature Daniel Alan Castellano move and he's proud of it. It's lucky he's an ass guy; this probably wouldn't be as interesting were he only into breasts.

"Oh yeah?" Hedwig might be the first person he's met who's as into biting as he is. Out comes the lopsided smile again, only this time it's more cocky. It appears at the same time that his hand executes his signature move with well honed finesse.

"If I thought your curiosity were genuine," he begins, stretching up to speak by Hedwig's ear, "I'd invite you to my bedroom to see it."

Edited 2019-11-02 00:17 (UTC)

And once again, the smile is charming. I would think so even without the hands currently on my ass.

"Knowing that it isn't at all genuine, a smarter man would invite me there more quickly," I counter, ducking to press a kiss to his neck before leaning back to look him in the eyes. "Are you a smart man?"

Danny likes to believe that he's the smartest man in any room. Given who his co-workers are, he'd say that's accurate.

He feels the intensity spike when Hedwig looks him in the eyes. Now would be a good time to pull the emergency brake if he's going to, but noone could look at Danny like that and expect him to back down from the challenge.

"Is the Pope," he replies, removing his hands and digging them into the hem of his t-shirt, then lifting his arms and contorting his torso to strip it off, "hiding something?"

"Aside from decades of sexual crimes against children?" Which I am still completely convinced Danny is one of. I shrug.

Head tilting, I take a moment just to enjoy the view. I still think three gym days are insane, but there's no denying that the work and dedication clearly pay off. Kicking the blanket out of the way, I place my palms against his skin, slowly moving down his chest, across his abs and stopping at his belt. Catching his mouth in another kiss and making deft work of undoing the buckle, using the end to coax him along to the bedroom.