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

"I blame the Boston Globe for tha.." The rest of Danny's defence of the Church gets swallowed up in the kiss and he wraps both hands quickly around Hedwig's neck to keep him close, mouths connected.

These are his favorite pair of pressed jeans so he goes along without resistance. Danny knows from experience that belt loops are never the same once they've been ripped off once. He only makes it a few steps though before he's dragging Hedwig back and finally letting go of his lips.

"My--" Okay, maybe one more kiss. "My Ma, she gave me that blanket." He can't do stuff in the bedroom if he knows it's out here on the floor. "I don't wanna be distracted in there," he explains, bending down to pick it up. He shakes it out and starts to fold it neatly.

"Since I'm doing this, I may as well..." He trails off, pointing loosely at his t-shirt on the floor too. The now-folded blanket gets tucked under his arm and he goes back down for the top. "I'll just-- hang on a sec. Oh boy, it's inside out. Two secs. Oh man, now the sleeve is stuck. This is a real puzzler."

Danny walking away does give me a moment to catch my breath, but it's hardly worth it.

"It's a shirt, not a Rubik's cube!" I snap, standing there with his belt in hand that had been pulled free when he decided now was a good time for chores. Is he going to fold all items of clothing as they come off? If so, I'm glad I decided to skip out underwear tonight. "Do you want to go put a load of laundry in the wash, too...?"

Heaven help him if he says yes.

There's little point in doing that, Danny thinks, since he's going to have to do a big load tomorrow for his bed sheets and pillow cases and a flannel or two flannels and if things go better than last time, some morning shower towels, the rug on his floor, potentially his couch cushion covers...

"Sorry." Danny finishes folding the t-shirt into a neat square, placing it on top of the blanket and putting both on the table beside them. Then he takes the belt from Hedwig's grasp and starts to roll one end up around a fist.

Instead of adding it to the pile though, Danny stops a third of the way and whips the loose end around the back of Hedwig's ass with a satisfying smack, grabbing the other end and securing it around his free hand. A rough tug brings Hedwig's body flush against his own, at which point it's made abundantly clear that what Danny is ready to do is not laundry.

At this point, disputing the existence of some higher power seems foolish, because surely it's only by the grace of said being that Danny's pants are still up without that belt. I wasn't even aware that they made jeans for men with a rise that low. It a perfect cut if you have a lower ab V to flaunt, which he does...

The sudden sting from the belt snaps me out of a daze and staring. Luckily, before I have a chance to blurt out something derogatory about the woman who gave birth to him as a knee-jerk reaction, I'm once again distracted by his jeans without even needing to look down at them.

"I thought you said you kept your collection in you room," I say, feigning confusion and slipping a hand between us to rub the front of his pants. "Keep a roll of Kennedy half dollars on you, do you?" I ask, pausing for a moment to reconsider, head tilting slightly. "Two rolls."

The directness of his own move is very quickly overshadowed by the - not unwelcome - boldness of Hedwig's. Danny doesn't fight his eyelids when they flutter shut; he's too focused on resisting the urge to press forward, his abdominal muscles flinching with the effort of keeping still.

"Kennedy half dollars are so blah," he dismisses half-heartedly. Danny might not want to relinquish the driving seat to Hedwig any time soon, but he figures he has a way to get what he wants without looking like he's asking for it. He pulls the belt tighter, forcing Hedwig's lower half even closer and happily resulting in an almost boastful flex of his biceps.

"A monkey could collect those." He snorts a little at his own observation, eyes reopening. "Which is really funny because they're worth peanuts."

What the hell do monkeys have to do with peanuts?

"Danny, Danny, Danny." I put a finger to his lips. "I understand where I went wrong and I think I've suffered enough for it. If you mention coins again I will hang myself with your mother's blanket." And after he's gone through all the the trouble of folding it, too.

I give him a look of warning before finally taking my finger away and replacing it with my lips. That hand free now, both move to unfasten is pant. I deepen the kiss as I push passed the layers of fabric, taking him in hand and giving a deliberate stroke.

Picturing his mother's trauma-filled face when he delivers the devastating news that her blanket has been forcibly taken into evidence by the police? So not the image Danny wants in his mind right now. And yet.

His hands roam their way up to Hedwig's shoulders as he returns a hungry kiss, belt dangling down his back. And then Hedwig's hand is somewhere new entirely and his mother's face is filled with fresh trauma.

"You have got to be kidding me," he gasps upon breaking the kiss. Quickly realising how that sounds, Danny balls a fist against his forehead and brings it down firmly on Hedwig's shoulder, head bowing to review the situation down south.

"That is, that is good." He lets out a breathy sigh. "That is really good." Dammit. "Okay. Gotta catch you up," he encourages, pinching at Hedwig's shirt by the shoulders.

It's hard to tell at first if he's in some kind of distress or enjoying himself. He doesn't move away or ask for it to stop, though, so it's a good a sign as any to continue for a bit longer.

When I do pull my hand back out, I smirk, taking a step away to pull my own shirt up and over my head. Tossing it aside, I turn and head towards the bedroom. "Do not pick that up," I warn over my shoulder, still a little annoyed and confused that it's something that even has to be said.

Hesitating a moment, hand hovering by the neck of the bottle, Danny eventually swipes Hedwig's beer from the counter before he moves, downing the last of it as he follows.

"That's pumpkin spice," he insists quietly to himself, unable to comprehend how anyone could compare it to a candle. He drops the empty bottle on the coffee table before he heads to the bedroom, not wanting to give the wrong impression by walking in there with it, not after the interrogation earlier.

Danny's got one sock off by the time he arrives, followed quickly by the other. He tosses the belt on the bed and comes up behind Hedwig, rubbing his hands up and down his bare arms and stepping closer to press a gentler kiss against the back of his shoulder.

Eyes slipping shut at the feel of his lips against my skin, I reach back and grip his waist, hips pushing back against his.

"Planning on using that?" I ask nodding at the belt. There were plenty of other places he could have thrown it. But he didn't.

For a moment, all of my earlier cockiness and assuredness is lost as I glance down at the clothing I have left. I don't actually know what, if anything, Danny managed to see last time. Things were more straight to the point last week, from what I remember.

Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I lead Danny forward by the waist of his pants. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, I press a kiss to his stomach, and another.

Danny didn't think he'd invited Hedwig over with the intention of ending up in here again, but maybe he had. Unconsciously. Either way, he couldn't have expected it to be like this.

It was much easier to stay out of his head when his hands and mouth were busy.

Watching, Danny's gaze drifts over Hedwig's shoulders, decorated with fading bite marks that he vividly remembers making.

"Did these hurt?" He drags his fingernails over them and starts a slow, controlled body roll from chest to waist, as if chasing Hedwig's kisses.

"A little," I admit. Not in a bad way. It was definitely plenty enjoyable at the time, which more than made up for any pain there might have been.

Tongue against his skin, I lick a trail straight up, then tilt my head to nip gently at his side. "Don't let that stop you."

Shifting, I knee my way up onto the mattress, wrapping a hand around the back of Danny's neck to bring him with me, mouth desperately seeking his out once again.

There's a lot more kissing this time round, which strangely feels more intimate to Danny than everything they had done last time. Perhaps part of that is down to Hedwig; Danny can't remember the last time someone had kissed him so ardently. He'd gotten used to disingenuous hook ups with women he's just met who only see him as a super hot bod with a delectable mouth. But this, this is pretty fiery and only grows more so when he's kneeling on the mattress against him.

He tilts Hedwig's head, hands back on his face, and moves his own the opposite way, intensifying their kissing. His shoulders rise, muscles tensing as he focuses all his energy on Hedwig and their mouths.

"These. Off," I manage between breaths, pushing the clothing still annoyingly on him down off his hips. While down there, I steal a move from Danny, placing my hands on his ass and giving a squeeze, smiling against his lips. "Extra squats?" I ask, hoping I haven't just opened the floodgates to having to listen to his entire weekly workout regimen. I will gag him with his own socks if I need to.

And because I can't expect him to do something I'm not prepared to follow through with myself, I undo the front of my shorts and work my way out of them, tossing them over the side of the bed. Candle flavored or not, maybe I should have had another drink or two earlier.

Danny gasps at the squeeze, pulling his head back to look at Hedwig with an expression of impressed surprise. "Glad somebody finally noticed," he says, taking advantage of the break to untangle himself from the last of his clothes.

He kisses along Hedwig's neck, undoubtedly making it harder for him to work off his shorts, a fact Danny takes great enjoyment in as he counters every twist and wriggle from Hedwig with a new attack on his neck.

"Take your time," he goads around a laugh, smiling his lopsided smile into Hedwig's skin when he hears the denim hit the floor. "Don't you worry about those. Dr Dan will get his press on tomorrow."

"Dr Dan's laundry fetish is very strange." Obviously not the strangest one I've encountered over the years, but still. I wonder if he gets a boner if he walks by a laundromat.

"Do you own one of those boards that helps you fold tshirts perfectly or do you just do it?" I ask, my curiosity surprisingly genuine this time.

As much as it pains me to pull away, I turn, back to him. Reaching around, I firmly grasp his waist, drawing him forward as I roll my own hips backwards against him in a silent plea.

"I just do it," Danny replies in a deliberately sexy, husky voice by Hedwig's ear, like it's a dirty secret that he should be impressed by.

He catches an earlobe between his front teeth, giving it a sharp bite in response to Hedwig's stirring.

"You want something?" Danny checks aloofly, feigning ignorance.

Sucking in a sharp breath at the bite, I bring a hand up, fingers pushing through his hair and twisting into the locks. I give a slight tug as a warning when he decided to play dumb.

I want to turn back around. I want him on top of and to still be able to kiss his stupidly perfect lips. I want...

"You know what I want," I whisper. Judging by how things feel back there, not all parts of him are playing along with his game. "Because you want it, too."

Rather than agreeing verbally - which really is surplus to requirements - Danny lifts a hand to Hedwig's jaw, turning his head to the side so he can catch his mouth. The kiss is hot and hungry and a little messy thanks to the angle, and he slides his hand down to Hedwig's throat, his grip firm so he can't turn his mouth away.

He presses his hips forward, looping his free arm around Hedwig's waist and pulling him back, enjoying the build up. Danny's not sure how much longer he can show restraint, nor how much longer Hedwig will tolerate it, so as he continues to kiss him, Danny settles on a compromise. He trails the backs of his fingers down the outside of Hedwig's thigh, stroking them back up along the inside, hand pausing low on his abdomen as if waiting for permission to go back down.

Humming around the kisses, at the feel of the movement of his hip, I keep my grip on his hair. My other hand moves to rest on the one he has on my abs. Skin buzzing beneath his touch, muscles twitching, I force my hips further back against him, less as a way of teasing him and more so because it's all I can do to keep from pushing them forward. Moving away from it, not towards.

"Danny..." I say on an exhaled breath, redirecting his hand back down my thigh.

As a doctor, Danny has seen all kinds of bodies before, all met with professional curiosity and very little judgement (unless warranted). As a man, he's encountered surprises in the bedroom that perhaps he could have handled with more tact, or at least a better poker face.

Hedwig's particular situation falls outside the scope of both those sets of experiences. He's not Danny's patient, nor is his set up a surprise. Danny's going in with both eyes open. Or he would be if Hedwig let him.

"Hansel," he whispers, elongating the vowel sounds into a soft drawl. He moves their hands back to Hedwig's lower abdomen, fingertips starting to edge down again, millimetre by millimetre. Slow enough for Hedwig to divert again but deliberate enough for it to be clear what Danny wants to feel.

"It's just me," he adds around Hedwig's lips, before breaking their kiss and dropping some lighter ones along the ridge of his shoulder.

It's just him, the most religious, hyper masculine heterosexual and judgmental person I know. Somehow, that doesn't put me at ease the way I think he might have been hoping it would. Having him use that name also doesn't help. When Hedwig doesn't respond the way he wants, that's when he usually calls on Hansel.

The more things change...

I don't stop him, but I don't remove my hand. I don't look down. I focus straight ahead, on a random point on the headboard, on anything but what is happening or could happen. Or has happened in similar situations with men who were just them.

Danny begins light and careful. The last thing he wants is Hedwig to feel like he's having some kind of medical examination. Though he can't remember any exams he's conducted while teething at old bite marks and rubbing himself against the small of anyone's back before.

He can only imagine how Mrs Blumenkrantz would react to that.

When he'd found out about Hedwig's operation back in Darrow, Danny...probably could have handled it a bit better. A little more sensitively. Had he known a few years later he'd be in this position, with a hand massaging between Hedwig's legs and lips swollen from kissing him, he might have tried a bit harder.

A lack of a penis is definitely a plus for Danny. It's almost like a get out of jail free card, only jail is Hell and Danny's not above using technicalities if he has to argue his way into Heaven. Besides, 'man' doesn't mean 'penis', he's learnt. Just like having a penis doesn't automatically make you a man. He only has to look to his father for proof of that.

Hedwig is Hedwig. A concept Danny still grapples with time to time, but a moment like this helps him to understand a little better. Unwrapping himself from around him, Danny steps down to the ground so he can reach his nightstand, grabbing a condom from the top drawer and lifting it to his teeth to tear open. He pauses a second before, pulling the drawer further open.

"Ooh," he spots another in a different color packet, switching them out. "Ribbed?"

My stomach drops the instant I feel him pull away. It's happening again. Of course it's happening again. Seeing as how we're currently in his apartment it's unlikely that he'll physically run away...

I don't know how long I continue to stare at that one point on the headboard, pulled out of it only at Danny's question. Confused, I look from Danny, to the condom, to the dresser drawer and then back to him again. I shrug, less so because I have no opinion and more because I can't quite process the question. Or the visual. Combined, it's apparently enough to cause a short.

Condoms. Profession versus religion. During his residency, Danny used to spend hours confessing his sins at the hospital chapel, eventually accepting ten Hail Mary's for every condom he recommended or supplied. He'd tried to argue the Father up to twenty but apparently ten was the going rate back then. For his own personal use, he sticks to a round fifteen.

"Ribbed," he decides, showing Hedwig the packet, "because I like the little cartoon figure on the outside." Danny tears it open and applies it with one hand, his other digging around for lube and tossing it onto the mattress.

"You know, you look like you're praying on your knees like that," he comments, climbing onto the bed and flopping over onto his back, head propped up against the pillows.