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.

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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.

"Are appearances enough?" I ask. If so, I think I might be considered a more devout Catholic than him for all of the time I tend to spend on my knees. 'Praying'.

I make my way up the mattress to join him, leaning down to catch his lips and kissing him deeply, bringing a hand up to cup his face. "Do you need to pray before?"

Appearances definitely aren't enough but they do help, Danny thinks, lifting his head to meet Hedwig's mouth, propping himself up on an elbow. His hand mirrors Hedwig's on his face, keeping him there just in case he decides to turn around again.

"Mmm, hold on," he murmurs, pulling away so he has room to make the sign of the cross and lift the crucifix on his necklace to his lips.

I arch a brow at the display. "Amen..." Well, I did ask.

Moving across his jaw with a trail of kisses, I then focus on his ear, lips teeth and tongue at work. "Are you waiting for an invitation?" I whisper. Maybe a sign. Lightning strike or something else as equally cliche.

Oh boy... Danny's eyes slip shut, his jaw slowly dropping, crucifix falling to his chest. If Hedwig is half as good with his mouth down there as he is up here, Danny can see some major donations to the Vatican in his future.

"Nuh..." Danny has to dig deep to pull his ear away from a tongue like that. "Enough jibber-jabber," is all the warning Hedwig gets before Danny plants a hand on his chest and pushes him onto his back. He makes surprisingly quick work of the lube considering he can't see what he's doing, mouth back on Hedwig's with a level of passion that only a randy Italian can exude. He braces a hand by Hedwig's head, grabs a thigh and moans into the kiss at the first roll of his hips. He'd intended to start with more restraint for Hedwig's sake but...his Ma does always say he's been in a hurry since the day he was born.

Suddenly finding myself on my back is another strange turn on a night full of them. All of it would be much easier to explain if we were back in Darrow. It's the city playing its tricks again, Hansel. But here...?

Wincing, I wrap one arm around his shoulders, the other hand twisting at the bed sheets as I adjust to him, breath short and sharp. I try to relax, but it's difficult when every cell of my being feels like they're on fire. I return the kiss feverishly, needy, fingers pressing hard against his skin, wanting him deeper and wanting him now.

Nought to sixty in 2.9 seconds feels really good to Danny, but not everyone appreciates a luxury Lambo experience without warning.

He drops onto a forearm, bringing their chests closer, and breathes shallowly against Hedwig's neck, shifting his knees slightly so he can take more time to explore the feel of longer, more deliberate thrusts. His grip on Hedwig's thigh tightens. "Oh, man..."

Danny lifts his head, eyes closed, and follows the urge to go deeper, opening them again a while later to check for a reaction. He grazes his mouth over Hedwig's, tip of his tongue sneaking out to ghost over his lips, breath hot.

I draw back on my knee to hopefully make things slightly easier for him, at the same time tilting to allow him better access to my neck. I can't help but wonder how many rosaries he's going to burn through after this. A single sign of the cross doesn't really seem sufficient. Then again, what do I know about Catholicism other than how to pleasure a Priest?

Moaning when he pushes in further, I bite my bottom lip, back arching slightly and reveling in the feeling. Locking eyes with him, every sensation only seems to intensify. I pant against his lips, breaths paired with each new thrust of his hips, changing with his rhythm.

It feels very different with only two beers inside him. Maybe that's to blame for the startled feeling Danny gets when Hedwig looks him in the eyes. Suddenly everything feels much more real.

He moves his mouth down to Hedwig's chest, testing out different areas with teeth, tongue and lips, like he's pressing different combinations of codes to see what Hedwig likes the most. Having little experience to go on, Danny does what he likes being done to him, sucking, licking and biting both traditional and nontraditional erogenous zones, his ego making him eager to impress. If the hand roaming the arch of Hedwig's back moves to knead a pectoral muscle like it expects to find a bit more of a handfull to work with, put it down to Danny's own muscle memory kicking in.

Such focus on Hedwig's body has the effect of slowing Danny's hips into a more sensual and fluid roll. Not only is it necessary to allow him to catch his breath, it has the added benefit to drawing out the pleasure of each one, something that drags a long, gutteral moan from Danny that takes even him by surprise.

I lift my head just slightly to watch Danny's mouth move over my skin, somewhat entranced by the view. That, combined with the movement of his hips is almost too much, so I have to look away, head flopping back down to the mattress, one arm draped over my eyes.

"Danny," I moan, the sound deeper and more drawn out whenever he hits a good spot. Considering how much this place probably cost to live in, I really hope that the insane price tag includes really thick walls.

Danny drops a sweaty forehead onto the arm over Hedwig's eyes, a breathy and slightly delirious laugh escaping when he hears a particularly loud iteration of his name. He appreciates verbal encouragement as much as the next guy but he won't deny that it feels a little odd to hear it coming from such a deep voice. There was a phase when all he seemed to attract were the shriekers and wannabe porn stars.

"Shhshhshh," Danny pants, agitated when he realizes who else might be able to hear. He presses two fingers to Hedwig's lips. "I like it, I like hearing you but Pete might be next door." He drops a kiss to Hedwig's neck as if in apology, then rolls off, pulling him over with him.

"C'mon, c'mere, c'mere." He leans over to seek another kiss, a smirk on his face. "Gotta work every muscle group."

Edited 2019-11-09 01:15 (UTC)

"Oh, good. Invite him over," I blurt, unthinking, and almost completely jokingly... Almost. It would have been the neighborly thing to do, I think. I like Peter. I like most of Danny's coworkers, but Peter is a favorite. If were were to extend an invitation like that, he might actually accept. Nobody is that deep into bro-culture and not at least a bit curious and open to experimenting.

Suddenly, it's like being manhandled by a hobbit into a new position, but it's a sexy hobbit so it's fine. More than fine. Until... "Oh, God. Please do not turn sex into exercise," I murmur against his lips. "Just fuck me without counting reps."

"Okay, that's never happening," Danny shuts down immediately, joke or no joke. Peter comes over often enough uninvited and Danny still remembers far more than he wants to about their unexpected mano a mano in the shower.

"Sex is already a form of exercise, it just is," he shrugs as he finishes manoeuvring Hedwig into a straddle and coaxes him down with two hands wrapped around his neck. He softens right before another long kiss, whispering "but okay" as he slides back in and does as he's told.

I don't think either of us ever saw this happening - fantasized about it relentlessly, sure, but that's not the same - and yet here we are.

When he pushes in, I have to bite down on my lip even harder than before to keep the noise down for his sake. And he said I don't take direction well. Evidently, so does he... "Fuck." The word is quiet and breathy. Sinking down further and taking him in deeper, I'd further argue my point that sex is definitely not exercise, but I can't form the words. If it was, fewer people would bitch about doing it.

Hedwig might not think sex is exercise but he definitely has exercise - specifically ab rolling - to thank for the stamina Danny can show on his back. His stomach muscles are as tight as the grip he has on Hedwig's hips, which is hard enough to leave hand prints when he eventually lets go.

Rising to his elbows, Danny watches Hedwig through his eyelashes, gritting his teeth to keep in control, but it becomes clear from the heavier breathing and the way he's fisting his bedsheets that it's becoming more and more difficult.

Reluctantly, he relinquishes the driving seat to Hedwig, letting him dictate rhythm and roll, and it's not long before Danny's head tips back and he's echoing Hedwig's earlier sentiment, but louder, more protracted and like he can't quite believe how good it feels.