Well, I'm Just Too Excited - Poynter/Jones - Standalone
Title: Well, I’m Just Too Excited
Author: russsel
Part: 1/1
Rating: PG
Pairing: Poynter/Jones
Genre: Fluff
Summary: Dougie gets a lesson from Danny he’ll never forget.
A/N: Just wrote this last night. It was actually a dream of mine from a while back, with some minor alterations here and there, but still keeping its natural form. Song used is Silence Is A Scary Sound and yeah. :)
To be honest, I would have much preferred to have the rare moments I had to myself to be for myself and myself solely, so it didn’t come to my immediate surprise when I yelled, “Get out!” so fiercely, after sitting bolt upright in the middle of humming a song, that Tom, whose head had appeared from behind the door and said, “Dougs, what do you want to eat?”, widened his eyes in shock and disappeared in a fraction of a second. Sure, when I looked back on it, it seemed like a pretty rude thing to do to someone who’d just really wanted to ask a simple question, to which I could have responded with an equally simple answer instead of a house-shaking bellow, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to care, really.
I’d been feeling this way ever since the last tour, I’ve noticed. It wasn’t something that just happened during one of our shows in a spark, but gradual enough, like a slow-moving poison, for me to alienate everyone who dared ask what was wrong with me. It wasn’t because I didn’t know what to tell them; I knew fully well why, but because I didn’t want them to dive in my business. My business was my own, and they’d no right to stick their curious little noses in it. But I’ve realized that my newly adopted odd behavior was growing into perpetual crescendo, and I reckoned it would grow into something so overwhelming, so disastrous, I may have to quit the band altogether. At the same time, I discovered the one and only person who could help me.
That person was Danny.
Danny was also the reason why I felt this way to start with.
How it came about was the complete opposite of how I acquired my new attitude; it just sort of happened. Like, out of nowhere, I woke up one day and said to myself, “I like Danny Jones.”
Days passed and shows sold out, and “like” eventually grew to “love.”
I loved Danny.
It wasn’t a scary thought, though at first, it did give me quite a stir, but soon, I learned to accept it because I knew that I was powerless; humans are slaves to their emotions no matter how hard they may try to hide them.
That was when all the peculiarity reared its ugly head.
The first time I’d noticed the signal was when we decided to get together in a bar midway through our tour, and Danny decided to pick up a stranger he’d found sitting on the counter. Always was the case with Danny, since he was single and all, and after getting a couple of drinks, he’d have forgotten all about her and began making a fool of himself for everyone to see. Of course, that’s what I would have seen, if only I’d stayed long enough for him to order his first glass. Tom had told me all that happened the moment they returned home, and I knew my early excuse marked the beginning of Tom’s suspicions.
Presently, I hopped out of bed and ruffled my hair, messy from the irregular way I’d laid my head on the pillow, before setting out of the room with long, slow strides.
Emerging into the other side, I saw something move to my right, and I turned my head just in time to see Harry pulling on his jacket and arranging his watch. He stopped when he spotted me and shook his head, giving me a reproachful look that I tried to block out, saying, “He just wanted to know what you wanted, mate,” clearly meant to guilt me to apologize.
But I stood my ground and said nothing in return, not even giving the slightest indication that I had heard his remark, and with three final shakes, he walked across the room and caught up with Tom out the door.
Lingering my gaze on the empty area where the two had previously occupied, I scratched my head and pondered for a moment.
Should I apologize when they get back? Just so Tom would think the old Dougie was back and stop asking me questions I’d heard so many times leave his lips? Nothing came to mind, and with a shrug, I turned on my heels and faced my room, completely forgetting what I had set out to do in the first place.
That was when I heard something upstairs.
It was unmistakable; I knew it like the back of my hand. That voice, which I listened to over and over again any and every chance I could get, was spilling down the steps and swirling around the air I was breathing in.
Danny’s voice.
Curious, and with my heart thumping slightly faster and harder, I inched my way to the bottom of the stairs and, holding the base of the banister, craned my head upwards to listen more closely.
“...too excited. The end of this can’t be sighted...”
Definitely his voice.
Jumping sideways until I touched the wall, I pressed my back against it, and walked up the stairs like an abnormal crab, keeping close to one side in fear he would see.
Never had I attempted to intrude in his moments of intimacy, reflection of the preference for my own free time, but seeing as no one else was here (and it was rare, these moments, where Tom or Harry or both would be out of the house), I figured I might as well take the chance.
What could I lose?
Getting to my knees upon reaching the landing, I wriggled my way across the carpeted floor and made for Danny’s room. The door was slightly ajar, hence the permission of his voice down the stairs, and, rising up slowly like a charmed snake out of a vase, I looked in the gap to see Danny on his bed, hands interlaced over his stomach, eyes closed, lips moving delicately as he sang the lyrics.
“...hole in my mind when you’re not next to me...”
The door creaked, and in my panicked scramble to roll out of the way, I accidentally ducked inside, and the sound of the door hitting my head made Danny gasp in surprise.
“Dougs?”
I looked up and, after a second’s debate, scrunched my face into a smile of embarrassment. Danny eyed me with creased brows.
“I’m sorry!” I said hastily, picking myself up using the door knob, “I didn’t mean to-I’ll just go now!”
“No, it’s alright,” he said, and I stopped halfway risen up, my knees still bent, almost wobbling. With a toss of his head and a pat on the bed, he added, “Come here.”
Offered the chance, I just couldn’t bring myself to refuse; so after pulling myself to my feet completely, I ambled nervously over to him, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of my trousers to stop them from shaking. I sat down on the area he patted and scuttled closer, heart beating more quickly than ever.
“What’s up?” he asked, tucking his hands under his head as pillows.
“Nothin’,” I mumbled, completely avoiding his gaze and settling it on a corner of the room, behind a pile of discarded boxers and socks. The most attractive-looking discarded boxers and socks I’d ever seen in my life.
“Doesn’t look like it,” Danny said, stating the obvious as he drank in my expression. I wasn’t feeling uncomfortable in the uncomfortable sort of sense; it was being this close to him. It was making my heart beat so fast, I was scared he could hear it-or worse, feel it.
“Just tired from the tour is all,” I lied, straightening out nonexistent wrinkles on my trousers.
“Tour ended weeks ago.”
I shrugged, not knowing what to say to that. But then, he lifted his nose to the air and let out a hearty laugh, and for the first time since sitting down, I turned to look at him, as curious as he had been of me.
“What?” I asked, in my mind going over everything I said to make out some form of humor. Sadly, I could not find one (Danny always found something funny when nobody else got the joke), and so I had to wait for him silently to calm down before I was enlightened with the answer.
“It’s a bird, isn’t it?” he finally said, and I involuntarily uttered a “What?”
“Why you’ve been acting so strange lately,” he elaborated, giving my cheek a playful pinch, and I felt my stomach flutter at the touch. “What’s her name?”
“It’s no one,” I denied quickly, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. It was understandable why he regarded the subject as a female; I’d never told anyone about my orientation, fear of being a pariah always on the surface of my mind. So I had to keep quiet all these years, and I had been doing well enough up until the turning point that was Danny, where it became much harder to keep to myself every day after waking up. “I told you, it’s nothing.”
“Oh, come on,” he persisted, and I furrowed my brows, knowing well that I couldn’t sway his mind any more efficiently than should I try to push a mountain. I knew I had to play it off, tell him what he wanted to hear, and after taking a deep breath, bracing myself for the barrage of questions, I obliged.
“Alright, if I say yes, would you stop?” I asked, managing a slight superficial smile. He grinned back at me-the brilliance of his smile enough to put even the brightest star to shame.
“I knew it,” he declared triumphantly, replacing his hands under his head. “Tell me about her. Have you kissed yet? Who is she?”
Always the blunt inquirer, it didn’t surprise me when Danny asked me this; it was just something he would ask as readily if I were Tom or Harry.
“No, we haven’t kissed,” I played along with a chuckle, and he let out an “Awwe” of disappointment.
“Why not?”
I shrugged, quite amused at having piqued his interest, though it be false; nonetheless, I knew I should keep on going. Danny was never one to silence himself when he spots something out of the ordinary, and I steered my mind to making a list of possible girls to serve as pretense.
“I don’t really know how to kiss,” I said absentmindedly, half to him, half to myself, and turning to him with a most convincing face, I added, with a shake of my head, “Scared I might mess it up, y’kow?”
“Well, that’s not that big a problem,” Danny said with a smile, and the moment he said this, his smile faltered slightly, an itching thought apparently embedded itself in his simple brain.
“What is it?” I inquired at his dazed expression, and all of a sudden, I felt my heart racing faster.
“Well, erm...” he started, sitting up properly and scratching his neck. For a second, he looked like he was about to dismiss the matter and move to another subject, like he always did whenever he found one unpleasant to further the conversation, but he ultimately decided against it, and this is what came out, in a reluctant, uncertain voice that was unlike his, “I’m no expert, but...”
It took all I had to stop my jaw from dropping, and my heart pumped blood furiously through my veins like a broken dam.
Did Danny just tell me (implied’s more the right word, since he didn’t exactly say it, but you get the meaning) that he’d teach me about kissing? If so, how?
“Er-Well...” I stammered, my mind working frantically to form some sort of coherence in everything, and I could feel my face beginning to redden.
“Come on, let’s practice,” he urged, elbowing me on my arm, and I couldn’t find the words to reply with. All I could manage was to nod my head, and it was then that I realized the gravity of the situation.
I was going to kiss Danny.
This sort of thing happened only in my dreams, and never had I thought it’d come to reality. If it would be anything like my dreams, I would be the happiest man on the earth; if his lips were just as I’d imagined them to be: soft, warm, welcoming... I breathed a shaky sigh.
“Alright,” he said, inching closer to me awkwardly. Just how ready he was to teach me, I didn’t know; what I focused my mind to was the fact that he was going to kiss me.
Danny was going to kiss me.
“What you do first is... look in her eyes,” he instructed, bringing a hand to steady my face, and he looked at me with those deep, shining blue eyes. Eyes that were, at that moment, solely belonging to me and me alone, and I tried to stop a smile from breaking out. “That means she’s got your full attention.”
“Yeah?” I asked, looking back at him with the same intensity, and he shifted in his seat a little, breaking his gaze for but a moment before readjusting them back.
“Next, you...” he started, looking for words as his eyes glazed all over my face, tracing invisible outlines on my skin, and I realized he still had his hand around my jaw. “Next, you lean in close. Not too slow, not too fast. You don’t want to bore her but you don’t want to rush her at the same time.”
I nodded as well as I could and waited for him to put it into practice. Clearing his throat, he inhaled softly and began to lean in to me. By this time, my heart was beating much too loudly for me to hear anything else, save for the sounds of his breaths as he bent closer still.
The distance between our faces was literally as thin as a pin, and I could hear his breaths brushing my lips lightly, as would a cloud feel should it acquire fingers.
My heart was beating as though Harry was beating it with his drumsticks in a show.
“Mhmm,” I hummed, waiting desperately for the last part of the lesson.
“Now that you’re close enough to hear each other’s breathing,” he said, taking his hand from my jaw and positioning it on my shoulder, “You kiss.”
Not wasting a second longer, he pressed his lips against mine without a trace of force or reluctance; as if he’d wanted to do this beyond instruction. Or, at least, that’s what I told myself. Nevertheless, the moment I’d been waiting for was happening right now, and I would kill myself if I’d let it slip past my fingertips.
So I pressed back, bringing my arms over and wrapping them around his neck in the spur of the moment, and at once, I became conscious of my action. The only thing that stopped me from uncoiling them was the fact that he didn’t make a move to pull back; but rather, with my charge, it seemed to fuel his kiss, and I leaned forward until I was on top of him on the bed, where his hands mysteriously found their way along my back, pushing me further into him, deeper in the kiss.
All else faded; the worry of the repercussions that could possibly follow: the dread of Harry and Tom discovering us locked in this position unannounced, the fear of rejection from Danny after we part. Those thoughts disappeared as soon as they came, and I poured myself on Danny and nothing else.
I woudn’t be surprised if the kiss had lasted for ten years, because that’s what it felt like to me.
The feel of his lips were divine and everything I thought they would be; something you couldn’t come across as often as you would a passing car in the road. Danny was something special, and I was elated to know that this special someone was sharing a kiss with me; an admirer from afar.
We pulled back breathing heavily, me collapsing on his chest and his arms tightening themselves around my waist, and I listened to his erratic heartbeat for some time without either saying anything.
“I think you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve finally kissed her,” I said with a smile, lifting my head up, and he laughed in turn, lacing a kiss on my neck and my jaw.
“Oh, Dougs, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” said Danny, locking our foreheads together with a grin stretching from ear to ear, and I grinned in reply, what all I could do, really.
I didn’t want to say I loved him, not yet; I wanted to take things slow. He said it himself, I shouldn’t drag it nor rush it; so pacing myself was key to develop our situation.
With a chuckle, I leaned in for another kiss, and this one was just as satisfying as the first.
I was just too excited, and I couldn’t help it; my mind was still reeling from the madness of it all-a good sort of madness, like seeing your beloved parents again after years of separation, though one thing still clung to my mind: one step at a time, I knew this clearly, but all I was really glad of was that now, I knew he felt the same.
Author: russsel
Part: 1/1
Rating: PG
Pairing: Poynter/Jones
Genre: Fluff
Summary: Dougie gets a lesson from Danny he’ll never forget.
A/N: Just wrote this last night. It was actually a dream of mine from a while back, with some minor alterations here and there, but still keeping its natural form. Song used is Silence Is A Scary Sound and yeah. :)
To be honest, I would have much preferred to have the rare moments I had to myself to be for myself and myself solely, so it didn’t come to my immediate surprise when I yelled, “Get out!” so fiercely, after sitting bolt upright in the middle of humming a song, that Tom, whose head had appeared from behind the door and said, “Dougs, what do you want to eat?”, widened his eyes in shock and disappeared in a fraction of a second. Sure, when I looked back on it, it seemed like a pretty rude thing to do to someone who’d just really wanted to ask a simple question, to which I could have responded with an equally simple answer instead of a house-shaking bellow, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to care, really.
I’d been feeling this way ever since the last tour, I’ve noticed. It wasn’t something that just happened during one of our shows in a spark, but gradual enough, like a slow-moving poison, for me to alienate everyone who dared ask what was wrong with me. It wasn’t because I didn’t know what to tell them; I knew fully well why, but because I didn’t want them to dive in my business. My business was my own, and they’d no right to stick their curious little noses in it. But I’ve realized that my newly adopted odd behavior was growing into perpetual crescendo, and I reckoned it would grow into something so overwhelming, so disastrous, I may have to quit the band altogether. At the same time, I discovered the one and only person who could help me.
That person was Danny.
Danny was also the reason why I felt this way to start with.
How it came about was the complete opposite of how I acquired my new attitude; it just sort of happened. Like, out of nowhere, I woke up one day and said to myself, “I like Danny Jones.”
Days passed and shows sold out, and “like” eventually grew to “love.”
I loved Danny.
It wasn’t a scary thought, though at first, it did give me quite a stir, but soon, I learned to accept it because I knew that I was powerless; humans are slaves to their emotions no matter how hard they may try to hide them.
That was when all the peculiarity reared its ugly head.
The first time I’d noticed the signal was when we decided to get together in a bar midway through our tour, and Danny decided to pick up a stranger he’d found sitting on the counter. Always was the case with Danny, since he was single and all, and after getting a couple of drinks, he’d have forgotten all about her and began making a fool of himself for everyone to see. Of course, that’s what I would have seen, if only I’d stayed long enough for him to order his first glass. Tom had told me all that happened the moment they returned home, and I knew my early excuse marked the beginning of Tom’s suspicions.
Presently, I hopped out of bed and ruffled my hair, messy from the irregular way I’d laid my head on the pillow, before setting out of the room with long, slow strides.
Emerging into the other side, I saw something move to my right, and I turned my head just in time to see Harry pulling on his jacket and arranging his watch. He stopped when he spotted me and shook his head, giving me a reproachful look that I tried to block out, saying, “He just wanted to know what you wanted, mate,” clearly meant to guilt me to apologize.
But I stood my ground and said nothing in return, not even giving the slightest indication that I had heard his remark, and with three final shakes, he walked across the room and caught up with Tom out the door.
Lingering my gaze on the empty area where the two had previously occupied, I scratched my head and pondered for a moment.
Should I apologize when they get back? Just so Tom would think the old Dougie was back and stop asking me questions I’d heard so many times leave his lips? Nothing came to mind, and with a shrug, I turned on my heels and faced my room, completely forgetting what I had set out to do in the first place.
That was when I heard something upstairs.
It was unmistakable; I knew it like the back of my hand. That voice, which I listened to over and over again any and every chance I could get, was spilling down the steps and swirling around the air I was breathing in.
Danny’s voice.
Curious, and with my heart thumping slightly faster and harder, I inched my way to the bottom of the stairs and, holding the base of the banister, craned my head upwards to listen more closely.
“...too excited. The end of this can’t be sighted...”
Definitely his voice.
Jumping sideways until I touched the wall, I pressed my back against it, and walked up the stairs like an abnormal crab, keeping close to one side in fear he would see.
Never had I attempted to intrude in his moments of intimacy, reflection of the preference for my own free time, but seeing as no one else was here (and it was rare, these moments, where Tom or Harry or both would be out of the house), I figured I might as well take the chance.
What could I lose?
Getting to my knees upon reaching the landing, I wriggled my way across the carpeted floor and made for Danny’s room. The door was slightly ajar, hence the permission of his voice down the stairs, and, rising up slowly like a charmed snake out of a vase, I looked in the gap to see Danny on his bed, hands interlaced over his stomach, eyes closed, lips moving delicately as he sang the lyrics.
“...hole in my mind when you’re not next to me...”
The door creaked, and in my panicked scramble to roll out of the way, I accidentally ducked inside, and the sound of the door hitting my head made Danny gasp in surprise.
“Dougs?”
I looked up and, after a second’s debate, scrunched my face into a smile of embarrassment. Danny eyed me with creased brows.
“I’m sorry!” I said hastily, picking myself up using the door knob, “I didn’t mean to-I’ll just go now!”
“No, it’s alright,” he said, and I stopped halfway risen up, my knees still bent, almost wobbling. With a toss of his head and a pat on the bed, he added, “Come here.”
Offered the chance, I just couldn’t bring myself to refuse; so after pulling myself to my feet completely, I ambled nervously over to him, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of my trousers to stop them from shaking. I sat down on the area he patted and scuttled closer, heart beating more quickly than ever.
“What’s up?” he asked, tucking his hands under his head as pillows.
“Nothin’,” I mumbled, completely avoiding his gaze and settling it on a corner of the room, behind a pile of discarded boxers and socks. The most attractive-looking discarded boxers and socks I’d ever seen in my life.
“Doesn’t look like it,” Danny said, stating the obvious as he drank in my expression. I wasn’t feeling uncomfortable in the uncomfortable sort of sense; it was being this close to him. It was making my heart beat so fast, I was scared he could hear it-or worse, feel it.
“Just tired from the tour is all,” I lied, straightening out nonexistent wrinkles on my trousers.
“Tour ended weeks ago.”
I shrugged, not knowing what to say to that. But then, he lifted his nose to the air and let out a hearty laugh, and for the first time since sitting down, I turned to look at him, as curious as he had been of me.
“What?” I asked, in my mind going over everything I said to make out some form of humor. Sadly, I could not find one (Danny always found something funny when nobody else got the joke), and so I had to wait for him silently to calm down before I was enlightened with the answer.
“It’s a bird, isn’t it?” he finally said, and I involuntarily uttered a “What?”
“Why you’ve been acting so strange lately,” he elaborated, giving my cheek a playful pinch, and I felt my stomach flutter at the touch. “What’s her name?”
“It’s no one,” I denied quickly, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. It was understandable why he regarded the subject as a female; I’d never told anyone about my orientation, fear of being a pariah always on the surface of my mind. So I had to keep quiet all these years, and I had been doing well enough up until the turning point that was Danny, where it became much harder to keep to myself every day after waking up. “I told you, it’s nothing.”
“Oh, come on,” he persisted, and I furrowed my brows, knowing well that I couldn’t sway his mind any more efficiently than should I try to push a mountain. I knew I had to play it off, tell him what he wanted to hear, and after taking a deep breath, bracing myself for the barrage of questions, I obliged.
“Alright, if I say yes, would you stop?” I asked, managing a slight superficial smile. He grinned back at me-the brilliance of his smile enough to put even the brightest star to shame.
“I knew it,” he declared triumphantly, replacing his hands under his head. “Tell me about her. Have you kissed yet? Who is she?”
Always the blunt inquirer, it didn’t surprise me when Danny asked me this; it was just something he would ask as readily if I were Tom or Harry.
“No, we haven’t kissed,” I played along with a chuckle, and he let out an “Awwe” of disappointment.
“Why not?”
I shrugged, quite amused at having piqued his interest, though it be false; nonetheless, I knew I should keep on going. Danny was never one to silence himself when he spots something out of the ordinary, and I steered my mind to making a list of possible girls to serve as pretense.
“I don’t really know how to kiss,” I said absentmindedly, half to him, half to myself, and turning to him with a most convincing face, I added, with a shake of my head, “Scared I might mess it up, y’kow?”
“Well, that’s not that big a problem,” Danny said with a smile, and the moment he said this, his smile faltered slightly, an itching thought apparently embedded itself in his simple brain.
“What is it?” I inquired at his dazed expression, and all of a sudden, I felt my heart racing faster.
“Well, erm...” he started, sitting up properly and scratching his neck. For a second, he looked like he was about to dismiss the matter and move to another subject, like he always did whenever he found one unpleasant to further the conversation, but he ultimately decided against it, and this is what came out, in a reluctant, uncertain voice that was unlike his, “I’m no expert, but...”
It took all I had to stop my jaw from dropping, and my heart pumped blood furiously through my veins like a broken dam.
Did Danny just tell me (implied’s more the right word, since he didn’t exactly say it, but you get the meaning) that he’d teach me about kissing? If so, how?
“Er-Well...” I stammered, my mind working frantically to form some sort of coherence in everything, and I could feel my face beginning to redden.
“Come on, let’s practice,” he urged, elbowing me on my arm, and I couldn’t find the words to reply with. All I could manage was to nod my head, and it was then that I realized the gravity of the situation.
I was going to kiss Danny.
This sort of thing happened only in my dreams, and never had I thought it’d come to reality. If it would be anything like my dreams, I would be the happiest man on the earth; if his lips were just as I’d imagined them to be: soft, warm, welcoming... I breathed a shaky sigh.
“Alright,” he said, inching closer to me awkwardly. Just how ready he was to teach me, I didn’t know; what I focused my mind to was the fact that he was going to kiss me.
Danny was going to kiss me.
“What you do first is... look in her eyes,” he instructed, bringing a hand to steady my face, and he looked at me with those deep, shining blue eyes. Eyes that were, at that moment, solely belonging to me and me alone, and I tried to stop a smile from breaking out. “That means she’s got your full attention.”
“Yeah?” I asked, looking back at him with the same intensity, and he shifted in his seat a little, breaking his gaze for but a moment before readjusting them back.
“Next, you...” he started, looking for words as his eyes glazed all over my face, tracing invisible outlines on my skin, and I realized he still had his hand around my jaw. “Next, you lean in close. Not too slow, not too fast. You don’t want to bore her but you don’t want to rush her at the same time.”
I nodded as well as I could and waited for him to put it into practice. Clearing his throat, he inhaled softly and began to lean in to me. By this time, my heart was beating much too loudly for me to hear anything else, save for the sounds of his breaths as he bent closer still.
The distance between our faces was literally as thin as a pin, and I could hear his breaths brushing my lips lightly, as would a cloud feel should it acquire fingers.
My heart was beating as though Harry was beating it with his drumsticks in a show.
“Mhmm,” I hummed, waiting desperately for the last part of the lesson.
“Now that you’re close enough to hear each other’s breathing,” he said, taking his hand from my jaw and positioning it on my shoulder, “You kiss.”
Not wasting a second longer, he pressed his lips against mine without a trace of force or reluctance; as if he’d wanted to do this beyond instruction. Or, at least, that’s what I told myself. Nevertheless, the moment I’d been waiting for was happening right now, and I would kill myself if I’d let it slip past my fingertips.
So I pressed back, bringing my arms over and wrapping them around his neck in the spur of the moment, and at once, I became conscious of my action. The only thing that stopped me from uncoiling them was the fact that he didn’t make a move to pull back; but rather, with my charge, it seemed to fuel his kiss, and I leaned forward until I was on top of him on the bed, where his hands mysteriously found their way along my back, pushing me further into him, deeper in the kiss.
All else faded; the worry of the repercussions that could possibly follow: the dread of Harry and Tom discovering us locked in this position unannounced, the fear of rejection from Danny after we part. Those thoughts disappeared as soon as they came, and I poured myself on Danny and nothing else.
I woudn’t be surprised if the kiss had lasted for ten years, because that’s what it felt like to me.
The feel of his lips were divine and everything I thought they would be; something you couldn’t come across as often as you would a passing car in the road. Danny was something special, and I was elated to know that this special someone was sharing a kiss with me; an admirer from afar.
We pulled back breathing heavily, me collapsing on his chest and his arms tightening themselves around my waist, and I listened to his erratic heartbeat for some time without either saying anything.
“I think you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve finally kissed her,” I said with a smile, lifting my head up, and he laughed in turn, lacing a kiss on my neck and my jaw.
“Oh, Dougs, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” said Danny, locking our foreheads together with a grin stretching from ear to ear, and I grinned in reply, what all I could do, really.
I didn’t want to say I loved him, not yet; I wanted to take things slow. He said it himself, I shouldn’t drag it nor rush it; so pacing myself was key to develop our situation.
With a chuckle, I leaned in for another kiss, and this one was just as satisfying as the first.
I was just too excited, and I couldn’t help it; my mind was still reeling from the madness of it all-a good sort of madness, like seeing your beloved parents again after years of separation, though one thing still clung to my mind: one step at a time, I knew this clearly, but all I was really glad of was that now, I knew he felt the same.