"You got the rights and there's always a temptation. This one more screwed up relation."
Who: underthescrubs and nobodysvictim
What: Denial is just a river blah fucking blah
Where: Daniel's apartment, Upper East Side
When: Following THIS and THIS
Rating: I vote we get rid of this rating thing, we're all old and have dirty minds anyway ;)
As Andrew had discovered in a haze of nightshift brain shock, Daniel had a lot of money. Considering he was the heir of a multi-millionaire and the owner of a mult-million dollar corporation, he wasn't living from paycheck to paycheck by any means. In fact, he didn't have to work, he just wanted to and needed to, because other than his job, his mom, and his friends, his life felt pretty empty otherwise. But his Upper East Side apartment just a couple of blocks walk from work was... opulent. The apartment block had a lobby with marble floors and extravagant flower arrangments manned by a Conceirge and receptionist. There was a swimming pool on the lower floors with a gym. It was the whole deal. Daniel lived on one of the upper floors with views of the city with lots of floor to ceiling windows, polished floors, glass and modern things. It had four bedrooms and three bathrooms, a theatre room, a huge kitchen, a formal dining room and a balcony. This was how he grew up in this lifestyle, so he was used to it, but he mostly didn't live the life of a millionaire by any means, so no one but those who were aware of it would assume it as his lifestyle.
He knew Andrew had been 100% stunned to discover that Daniel had this lifestyle and still chose to work as a nurse, but it was what it was, and despite his bank balances, Daniel still had the ability to get embarrassingly sick like anyone else. Daniel was lying on one of his huge plush sofas in his living room when he heard his front door unlock, open and close in the apartment distance without a knock. He was lying there in a mound of covers with a manual IV line in his arm feeding him fluids from a bag hanging off the top of the lamp beside the sofa, courtesy of Andrew and there was a strategically placed bucket on the floor beside him.
When Nate came into the room (it was no lie, he had a key to Daniel's apartment), Daniel just looked over at him tiredly. "I can't believe you let me talk you in a twist of delusion for so long. You're off your game with the fucked up hand, aren't you?" he asked and then gestured to the matching sofa across the large room where Andrew was crashed out on his stomach, feet hooked over the arm rest and arm hanging over the side. His breathing was so heavy and deep, Daniel knew he was so out he wouldn't hear a word Daniel and Nate said. "Fucking bastard and his fucking immaculate bedside manner, and ripped fucking body with ink and piercings..."
What: Denial is just a river blah fucking blah
Where: Daniel's apartment, Upper East Side
When: Following THIS and THIS
Rating: I vote we get rid of this rating thing, we're all old and have dirty minds anyway ;)
As Andrew had discovered in a haze of nightshift brain shock, Daniel had a lot of money. Considering he was the heir of a multi-millionaire and the owner of a mult-million dollar corporation, he wasn't living from paycheck to paycheck by any means. In fact, he didn't have to work, he just wanted to and needed to, because other than his job, his mom, and his friends, his life felt pretty empty otherwise. But his Upper East Side apartment just a couple of blocks walk from work was... opulent. The apartment block had a lobby with marble floors and extravagant flower arrangments manned by a Conceirge and receptionist. There was a swimming pool on the lower floors with a gym. It was the whole deal. Daniel lived on one of the upper floors with views of the city with lots of floor to ceiling windows, polished floors, glass and modern things. It had four bedrooms and three bathrooms, a theatre room, a huge kitchen, a formal dining room and a balcony. This was how he grew up in this lifestyle, so he was used to it, but he mostly didn't live the life of a millionaire by any means, so no one but those who were aware of it would assume it as his lifestyle.
He knew Andrew had been 100% stunned to discover that Daniel had this lifestyle and still chose to work as a nurse, but it was what it was, and despite his bank balances, Daniel still had the ability to get embarrassingly sick like anyone else. Daniel was lying on one of his huge plush sofas in his living room when he heard his front door unlock, open and close in the apartment distance without a knock. He was lying there in a mound of covers with a manual IV line in his arm feeding him fluids from a bag hanging off the top of the lamp beside the sofa, courtesy of Andrew and there was a strategically placed bucket on the floor beside him.
When Nate came into the room (it was no lie, he had a key to Daniel's apartment), Daniel just looked over at him tiredly. "I can't believe you let me talk you in a twist of delusion for so long. You're off your game with the fucked up hand, aren't you?" he asked and then gestured to the matching sofa across the large room where Andrew was crashed out on his stomach, feet hooked over the arm rest and arm hanging over the side. His breathing was so heavy and deep, Daniel knew he was so out he wouldn't hear a word Daniel and Nate said. "Fucking bastard and his fucking immaculate bedside manner, and ripped fucking body with ink and piercings..."