Fic: Casting Shadows (WAT, Danny/Martin, NC17)
I don't know where this came from. I was thinking about the scene which spawned the not-at-all-serious manip, and suddenly there was Danny Taylor, feeling so much more cooperative than he was yesterday when I was trying to write snowstorm fic. Also because nekosmuse wanted Danny/Martin up against the wall sex, and since she took a break from her own bad mood to cheer me up, I wrote her up against the wall sex. It's certainly not original and there's no plot to be had, but it's fluffy Denial!Fic and really, what better way to start the new year?
A small caveat: this is in no way canon-based. I can't even remember which episode the scene in question comes from, so I have no idea if this actually works within canon or if I've missed major details that make this fic impossible. But it's just smut, so who cares. Also, it's fairly obvious to me at this point that Martin and Danny refuse to accept the fact that they're no longer on my approved fandoms list. They win; I give up. At least I tried. Considering how little love I'm feeling for Nick and Greg right now, it's probably just as well.
He' still thinking about it hours later, and he's sure everyone's noticed. It's not like he's ever been all that subtle; when he wants something he goes for it, that's just how he is. Everybody knows that -- everybody but Martin, it seems, because no amount of flirting or innuendos or physical contact has put so much a dent in the Fitzgerald armor.
Danny's not even sure if it's a Fitzgerald thing or if it's just a Martin thing. He doesn't know if Martin's just oblivious or if he's seriously hung up on Sam or what, and at this point he's not even sure he wants to know. The only thing he's sure of is that just a couple hours ago, when Martin was bitching him out for roughing up that piece of trash, Danny came way too close to kissing him.
It wouldn't be such a big deal if they hadn't been standing in the middle of a public hallway at the time. Then again, maybe that's the only thing that stopped Danny, because if they'd been alone in a room with a conveniently closed door he might not have been able to stop himself. And kissing the Deputy Director's kid is a bad idea no matter how he looks at it, especially when Danny's done everything in his power to get Martin's attention and nothing's worked.
He's not even sure if he wants Martin or if he just wants Martin to want him. Either way it's a dangerous game, and he's been telling himself for weeks to stop playing. Pushing Martin's buttons is one thing; teasing him just to see how far he can go before Martin blushes or frowns sternly or, best of all, laughs a genuine laugh for once and turns that rare unguarded smile on Danny.
And he's definitely in way over his head if he's angling all day for a fucking smile.
He's frowning when he walks back into the office, so busy berating himself for turning into such a pussy that he doesn't notice Martin walking toward him. For all he knows he's the only one in the room until Martin reaches out and catches him by the arm, spinning him around and then they're the only two people in the room. The only two people in the world, because there's that smile and God, he's going to have to turn in his badge, because there's no way he can keep this up.
Just in time he reins in his reaction to Martin's hand pressing into his bicep, affecting the smirk he's so famous for and glancing down at the fingers he's pictured doing...but he's not going there now, not when Martin's standing a foot away from him. Because he's supposed to be the cool one, the guy who's always calm even when everybody else is freaking out. He's the one with the jokes and the easy smiles, and he never falls apart. Not where anybody can see him.
"Hey," Martin says, grin turning sheepish and suddenly Danny remembers that they're still mad at each other.
"Hey."
"Listen, about before..." Martin pauses and Danny can feel the nervousness radiating off him. It's cute. It's kind of hot too, and if Martin doesn't let go of him soon he's going to do something they'll both regret. "I shouldn't have lost it like that."
"Forget it," Danny says, then Martin does let go of him and he wants to grab that hand and drag it back to his arm, up under his shirt, across his stomach…he clears his throat and turns his smile up a notch. "It was my fault. Partners, right? I shouldn't have sprung that on you without any warning. Tell you what, let me buy you a drink, make it up to you."
"You don't drink." Martin's smiling and Danny knows he's got him right where he wants him. Well, not exactly, because where he wants him is up against the nearest flat surface, preferably with a lot less clothes, but this is a start.
"Got me there." He grins again and tilts his head to the side a little, just to see...and yeah, right there, there's that little blush. Two pink spots high in Martin's cheeks, and Danny crosses his arms over his chest where they're safe from touching anything that doesn't belong to him. "Dinner, then."
Martin nods once, smile turning shy, and he glances over his shoulder at his desk. "Sure. Let me just grab my jacket."
And he's a fucking genius, because he just finagled a date with Martin, and Martin's none the wiser. Danny grabs his wallet out of his desk and shoves it in his back pocket, tucking apartment keys in the front, and less than a minute later they're on the elevator and he's fighting the urge to tap his foot just to release a little of the pent-up energy that's been building ever since their fight. Only Martin keeps casting little sidelong glances at him, that spot between his eyes creased like he's trying to work something out, and maybe he's not as clueless as Danny thinks.
"Listen," he says, and a beat later Martin says, "I was thinking...", then they both laugh kind of breathlessly and the elevator doors ping open. Danny steps out first and takes a quick gulp of air, Martin right on his heels as they cross the lobby and step out into the cool evening air. It's later than he thought it was, and he decides to take a chance.
"Getting late. You wanna just go to my place and order in?" He glances at Martin as he says it, trying out the smile that works on all the girls -- and most of the guys -- at the gym. And maybe he's not really losing his touch after all, because Martin smiles again and nods, easy like he's just been waiting for Danny to ask.
"Just so long as you're not trying to weasel out of making it up to me."
"I'm not trying to weasel out of anything," Danny says, and this time he doesn't hold back the suggestion that goes along with his smile. And he wishes it wasn't getting dark already, because he wants to see Martin's blush when he gets what Danny's not saying. Only he doesn't look all that embarrassed, or even surprised really, and how could Danny have been reading the signals wrong all this time? It doesn't seem possible, but by the time they reach his apartment Martin's hand is resting on the small of his back, propelling Danny forward like his patience is wearing thin, and he's definitely been missing something.
He wonders as he unlocks his door exactly how long they could have been doing this, then they're inside and all he's wondering is how long it's going to take to get Martin out of that godawful tie.
The first kiss is predictably hard and breathless and a little awkward, too much teeth and way too little tongue, and he's not surprised at all when Martin fights him for control. Fighting's what they do best, after all -- baiting each other just because they can, because they haven't known each other all that long, but they know each other. Sometimes Danny thinks it's because they spend so much fucking time working and not having any kind of life. Other times he thinks it's because of all the things no one would ever suspect them of having in common.
He pulls back just a little, just enough to breathe against Martin's cheek, pressing soft kisses along skin rough with a day's worth of stubble. "You want pizza or Chinese?"
Martin laughs against him and Danny's heart skips a beat, his hand on Martin's chest to feel the sound vibrating under his palm. "I'm not hungry."
"I just don't want you accusing me of trying to weasel out of buying you dinner," Danny says, pulling back far enough to try out his most innocent grin. It has the predictable result, namely Martin rolling his eyes and sliding his hands further under Danny's jacket.
"I'll let you make it up to me some other way."
"Yeah? How's that?"
"I'll think of something," Martin murmurs, mouth against Danny's again and this time the kiss is slower, methodical, the way Martin conducts an interview. He starts out soft, getting a feel for the situation before he digs a little deeper, fingers pushing into Danny's sides and tongue teasing Danny's mouth open. He lets Martin lead, one hand still pressed against Martin's chest and the other flat against the wall behind him.
He's not surprised to find that he likes the way Martin's mouth fits against his, the way his fingers clench and relax on his hips, leaving behind a mess of wrinkles for Danny's dry cleaner to deal with. But this is exactly what he's spent the whole day thinking about -- Martin pressed up against the wall, breathless and hard and pinned underneath Danny. He's been thinking about it since that almost-kiss in the middle of the hall, and as soon as he remembers the image that flashed through his mind at the time he's in motion.
His hands push Martin's jacket down his shoulders, stopping when it reaches his elbows, effectively immobilizing his arms. He works open Martin's shirt next, tongue thrusting in and out of Martin's mouth as he unsnaps and unbuttons and unzips until Martin's mostly dressed but completely exposed. Pale skin flushes under his fingers, and he presses hard enough to leave white trails along pink skin as he slides a hand down the center of Martin's chest.
"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?" he whispers, working his mouth across Martin's jaw to worry an earlobe. He bites down at the same moment his hand closes around Martin's cock, and he grins at the gasp that quickly shifts to a choked, helpless moan. He licks a wet stripe down Martin's throat, stopping at his collarbone to suck hard at the skin there.
Martin's hips are moving in time with his hand, and he's stroking slow because he wants this to last. He wants to keep Martin like this as long as he can, hard and needy and totally under his control, exactly the way Danny's pictured him a hundred -- a thousand -- times before. And he'd always thought he only wanted Martin because he couldn't have him, but now he's got him, and it makes Danny want him even more.
His thumb slides through slick precome, and he lets go of Martin's cock long enough to lift his hand to his mouth, sucking the bitter-salt flavor off the tip of his finger. He waits until Martin opens his eyes, glassy and a little unfocused, but it's Martin so there's impatience there too. Danny waits until he's sure he's got Martin's attention, then he leans forward and presses another hard kiss against Martin's mouth before he drops gracefully to his knees.
Martin's still wearing his shoes and socks, but his tailored suit pants are bunched up around his ankles, and that's another thing that's definitely going to end up at the dry cleaner's. Maybe even Danny's dry cleaner's if he plays his cards right, but he's not getting ahead of himself. Right now he's got Martin up against the wall -- his wall -- and that's a lot more than he ever thought he'd have.
He glances up to make sure Martin's watching, smiling his approval, because he's always been a little bit of an exhibitionist. Two fingers slide into his mouth and he sucks, grinning around them as Martin's eyes go wide. Danny's pretty sure Martin doesn't even realize he's doing it, but his legs move a little further apart and that's all the encouragement Danny needs. He slides his wet fingers between Martin's legs as he closes his mouth around Martin's cock, tongue pressing hard against the underside as he bypasses Martin's balls to press up against taut skin.
Martin gasps somewhere above him and Danny moans in response, the sound making Martin grunt and jerk forward until his cock hits the back of Danny's throat. He reaches up with his free hand and clamps down hard on Martin's hips, guiding his thrusts so Danny doesn't choke and ruin the mood. His fingers press back, back, until they slide across that tight hole, and when Martin gasps this time and thrusts forward Danny's ready for him.
He holds Martin's hips firm against the wall with one hand, lets a finger slide inside and Martin's tighter than he expected. It makes Danny wonder how long it's been since he let someone fuck him. Maybe he hasn't been with a guy since he moved to the city, or maybe he doesn't do this with just anybody. Martin's not really the casual sex type, after all, but Danny's not going to let himself hope that means anything, not when he's on his knees with Martin's cock in his mouth.
Martin whose hips are pressing more forcefully against his hand now, his breathing more erratic and when Danny slides another finger in to join the first Martin moans and comes in his mouth.
He pulls off and spits into his hand; not the most romantic thing he's ever done, but it's either that or the carpet and he doesn't own his apartment. For a second he sits back on his heels and just looks at Martin, flushed and panting and his shirt hanging open, arms still trapped in his jacket and Danny's never going to forget this sight. He doesn't want to, because it's the hottest thing he's ever seen and he's suddenly and painfully aware of how hard he is.
Standing up reminds him that he's still wearing all his clothes, and there's still the mess in his hand to deal with so he presses a quick, soft kiss to the corner of Martin's mouth before he moves into the kitchen, washing his hands and reaching for his tie without bothering to dry them. Their clothes are going to be a wreck. Danny paid almost eight hundred dollars for the suit he's wearing right now, and at the moment he doesn't give a damn if Martin rips it right off him.
Only Martin's not in any shape to do much of anything, and Danny can't help a little self-congratulatory smile. He drops to his knees again to help Martin out of his shoes and socks, tugs his pants and boxers off the rest of the way before he stands up. When they're face to face Martin opens his eyes, and when Danny catches sight of his dazed expression he can't help the flicker of shock he's sure Martin can see in his eyes. He's good with his mouth, sure, but a blowjob's still just a blowjob, and now Danny's positive that Martin hasn't had sex at all since he got to New York.
Well at least now he knows why Martin asked Sam out for a drink. He'll have to remember to tell Martin exactly why that's a bad idea, but it'll wait until later. Much, much later, he tells himself as he pushes Martin's jacket and shirt off, mouth moving against whatever skin he can reach. And it's not until Martin's completely naked that he catches up with what's going on, fingers sliding along the collar of Danny's shirt to play with the top button. "Looks like you've got some catching up to do."
"I'm still making it up to you, remember?" Danny says. It sounds a lot more affectionate than he meant it to, but he doesn't bother trying to take it back. Instead he helps get his shirt open, letting Martin push it off along with his five hundred dollar jacket. He barely registers the sound of it hitting the floor before they're moving, his arm around Martin's waist to drag him toward the bedroom.
They make it as far as the couch. That's okay, though, because Danny's always prepared for emergencies, and while Martin fumbles with his belt buckle he reaches under the coffee table and pulls a condom and a small bottle out of a cigar box. Cuban, of course. He grins at that and lifts his hips so Martin can tug his pants down, kicking off his shoes and then the rest of his clothes.
And this is more like it, all that hot skin pressed up against his, and he flips them over so Martin's pinned underneath him again. He could definitely get used to this, and if he's got anything to say about it, that's exactly where this is headed.
"I want to fuck you."
"Thought you'd never ask," Martin says without skipping a beat, like he's supplying a line. Danny laughs and kisses him again, because he could keep doing that...pretty much forever, but when Martin thrusts up against him he moans and reaches blindly for the lube he dropped next to the couch.
It takes a few seconds to roll the condom down, then slick fingers -- not his own -- grasp his cock and he's sure he's going to come way before he's ready. Just in time Martin backs off, and Danny slides a hand under his thigh, lifting Martin's leg up and over his hip as he lines himself up and slides inside.
For a few endless seconds all he knows is hot and tight and pleasure so overwhelming it hurts, then Martin relaxes and Danny's sinking deeper, fighting to keep his eyes open because he wants to see, wants to watch Martin arching up into him, spent cock twitching every time Danny finds that spot inside him. He takes it as slow as he can, letting Martin adjust to the stretch before he pulls out, then slides back in again even more slowly, torturing them both with his need to draw this out.
And this is someplace he never thought he'd find himself, fucking Martin Fitzgerald on his couch. It's a thousand times better than he imagined, though, because Martin's...Martin, hot and a little shy but right there with him, taking what he wants and urging Danny to take just as much. His hand grips Martin's thigh hard and they're a tangle of limbs, hands in his hair to yank him down for a kiss that nearly forces him all the way out.
When Martin lets him up again he plunges right back into tight heat, angling to hit the spot that makes Martin clench hard around him, sending a jolt of pleasure through Danny's extremities. His free hand fumbles on the couch until he finds Martin's hand, fingers clenching tight as he starts moving faster, finally losing the battle with his self-control. Martin meets each thrust with a little grunt that makes Danny move even faster, and he knows he's saying something but he's not sure he's making any sense. He can't focus on the sound of his own voice for the blood rushing against his ears, and anyway he's not sure he could shut up even if he wanted to.
He's not sure how long he lasts -- 'not long enough' is all he can think when he finally lets go, collapsing against Martin to moan his orgasm against flushed, sweat-slick skin. And there's no way this is a one-time thing, because now that he knows what he's been missing he's going to want it all the time. He's always wanted Martin, always touched more than he needed to and worked just a little harder than he needed to just to make sure he was the focus of Martin's attention.
That's what the jokes and the playful little jabs are all about, and when he pushes too far, that's what the fights are about too. Now, though...now he might really have to turn his badge in after all, and he's not all that sure it wouldn't be worth it. He laughs breathlessly at that thought because he knows it's just the afterglow talking, but right now staying here with Martin forever sounds pretty damn good.
He forces himself up before he accidentally says something like that out loud, pulling out carefully and easing the loss with an affectionate kiss before he stands up and heads for the bathroom. Once the condom's taken care of he cleans up, grinning at himself in the mirror before he turns and walks back down the hall. He's on his way past his bedroom when something catches his eye, and he stops short and turns to find Martin stretched out on his bed, covers pushed back and the lines of his back highlighted by the light coming in through the window.
For a second Danny can't remember how to breathe. When his brain kicks back in he swallows hard, gripping the doorframe until he thinks he can make it across the room without hurting anything. And it's not like he's some virgin, but this is Martin, and that makes all the difference.
He stops next to the bed and reaches out, smiling at the sigh Martin lets out when Danny's hand slides down his spine. "Make yourself at home," he says, voice low in the quiet punctuated only by their breathing and the traffic outside.
Martin laughs low in his throat and turns his head until he's facing Danny. "I thought you were still making it up to me."
"I am," Danny says, and when Martin moves over to make room for him he doesn't hesitate before sliding onto the mattress next to the other man. Anything you want, he thinks, letting Martin pull him close for the next in what he hopes will be a long series of kisses.
A small caveat: this is in no way canon-based. I can't even remember which episode the scene in question comes from, so I have no idea if this actually works within canon or if I've missed major details that make this fic impossible. But it's just smut, so who cares. Also, it's fairly obvious to me at this point that Martin and Danny refuse to accept the fact that they're no longer on my approved fandoms list. They win; I give up. At least I tried. Considering how little love I'm feeling for Nick and Greg right now, it's probably just as well.
He' still thinking about it hours later, and he's sure everyone's noticed. It's not like he's ever been all that subtle; when he wants something he goes for it, that's just how he is. Everybody knows that -- everybody but Martin, it seems, because no amount of flirting or innuendos or physical contact has put so much a dent in the Fitzgerald armor.
Danny's not even sure if it's a Fitzgerald thing or if it's just a Martin thing. He doesn't know if Martin's just oblivious or if he's seriously hung up on Sam or what, and at this point he's not even sure he wants to know. The only thing he's sure of is that just a couple hours ago, when Martin was bitching him out for roughing up that piece of trash, Danny came way too close to kissing him.
It wouldn't be such a big deal if they hadn't been standing in the middle of a public hallway at the time. Then again, maybe that's the only thing that stopped Danny, because if they'd been alone in a room with a conveniently closed door he might not have been able to stop himself. And kissing the Deputy Director's kid is a bad idea no matter how he looks at it, especially when Danny's done everything in his power to get Martin's attention and nothing's worked.
He's not even sure if he wants Martin or if he just wants Martin to want him. Either way it's a dangerous game, and he's been telling himself for weeks to stop playing. Pushing Martin's buttons is one thing; teasing him just to see how far he can go before Martin blushes or frowns sternly or, best of all, laughs a genuine laugh for once and turns that rare unguarded smile on Danny.
And he's definitely in way over his head if he's angling all day for a fucking smile.
He's frowning when he walks back into the office, so busy berating himself for turning into such a pussy that he doesn't notice Martin walking toward him. For all he knows he's the only one in the room until Martin reaches out and catches him by the arm, spinning him around and then they're the only two people in the room. The only two people in the world, because there's that smile and God, he's going to have to turn in his badge, because there's no way he can keep this up.
Just in time he reins in his reaction to Martin's hand pressing into his bicep, affecting the smirk he's so famous for and glancing down at the fingers he's pictured doing...but he's not going there now, not when Martin's standing a foot away from him. Because he's supposed to be the cool one, the guy who's always calm even when everybody else is freaking out. He's the one with the jokes and the easy smiles, and he never falls apart. Not where anybody can see him.
"Hey," Martin says, grin turning sheepish and suddenly Danny remembers that they're still mad at each other.
"Hey."
"Listen, about before..." Martin pauses and Danny can feel the nervousness radiating off him. It's cute. It's kind of hot too, and if Martin doesn't let go of him soon he's going to do something they'll both regret. "I shouldn't have lost it like that."
"Forget it," Danny says, then Martin does let go of him and he wants to grab that hand and drag it back to his arm, up under his shirt, across his stomach…he clears his throat and turns his smile up a notch. "It was my fault. Partners, right? I shouldn't have sprung that on you without any warning. Tell you what, let me buy you a drink, make it up to you."
"You don't drink." Martin's smiling and Danny knows he's got him right where he wants him. Well, not exactly, because where he wants him is up against the nearest flat surface, preferably with a lot less clothes, but this is a start.
"Got me there." He grins again and tilts his head to the side a little, just to see...and yeah, right there, there's that little blush. Two pink spots high in Martin's cheeks, and Danny crosses his arms over his chest where they're safe from touching anything that doesn't belong to him. "Dinner, then."
Martin nods once, smile turning shy, and he glances over his shoulder at his desk. "Sure. Let me just grab my jacket."
And he's a fucking genius, because he just finagled a date with Martin, and Martin's none the wiser. Danny grabs his wallet out of his desk and shoves it in his back pocket, tucking apartment keys in the front, and less than a minute later they're on the elevator and he's fighting the urge to tap his foot just to release a little of the pent-up energy that's been building ever since their fight. Only Martin keeps casting little sidelong glances at him, that spot between his eyes creased like he's trying to work something out, and maybe he's not as clueless as Danny thinks.
"Listen," he says, and a beat later Martin says, "I was thinking...", then they both laugh kind of breathlessly and the elevator doors ping open. Danny steps out first and takes a quick gulp of air, Martin right on his heels as they cross the lobby and step out into the cool evening air. It's later than he thought it was, and he decides to take a chance.
"Getting late. You wanna just go to my place and order in?" He glances at Martin as he says it, trying out the smile that works on all the girls -- and most of the guys -- at the gym. And maybe he's not really losing his touch after all, because Martin smiles again and nods, easy like he's just been waiting for Danny to ask.
"Just so long as you're not trying to weasel out of making it up to me."
"I'm not trying to weasel out of anything," Danny says, and this time he doesn't hold back the suggestion that goes along with his smile. And he wishes it wasn't getting dark already, because he wants to see Martin's blush when he gets what Danny's not saying. Only he doesn't look all that embarrassed, or even surprised really, and how could Danny have been reading the signals wrong all this time? It doesn't seem possible, but by the time they reach his apartment Martin's hand is resting on the small of his back, propelling Danny forward like his patience is wearing thin, and he's definitely been missing something.
He wonders as he unlocks his door exactly how long they could have been doing this, then they're inside and all he's wondering is how long it's going to take to get Martin out of that godawful tie.
The first kiss is predictably hard and breathless and a little awkward, too much teeth and way too little tongue, and he's not surprised at all when Martin fights him for control. Fighting's what they do best, after all -- baiting each other just because they can, because they haven't known each other all that long, but they know each other. Sometimes Danny thinks it's because they spend so much fucking time working and not having any kind of life. Other times he thinks it's because of all the things no one would ever suspect them of having in common.
He pulls back just a little, just enough to breathe against Martin's cheek, pressing soft kisses along skin rough with a day's worth of stubble. "You want pizza or Chinese?"
Martin laughs against him and Danny's heart skips a beat, his hand on Martin's chest to feel the sound vibrating under his palm. "I'm not hungry."
"I just don't want you accusing me of trying to weasel out of buying you dinner," Danny says, pulling back far enough to try out his most innocent grin. It has the predictable result, namely Martin rolling his eyes and sliding his hands further under Danny's jacket.
"I'll let you make it up to me some other way."
"Yeah? How's that?"
"I'll think of something," Martin murmurs, mouth against Danny's again and this time the kiss is slower, methodical, the way Martin conducts an interview. He starts out soft, getting a feel for the situation before he digs a little deeper, fingers pushing into Danny's sides and tongue teasing Danny's mouth open. He lets Martin lead, one hand still pressed against Martin's chest and the other flat against the wall behind him.
He's not surprised to find that he likes the way Martin's mouth fits against his, the way his fingers clench and relax on his hips, leaving behind a mess of wrinkles for Danny's dry cleaner to deal with. But this is exactly what he's spent the whole day thinking about -- Martin pressed up against the wall, breathless and hard and pinned underneath Danny. He's been thinking about it since that almost-kiss in the middle of the hall, and as soon as he remembers the image that flashed through his mind at the time he's in motion.
His hands push Martin's jacket down his shoulders, stopping when it reaches his elbows, effectively immobilizing his arms. He works open Martin's shirt next, tongue thrusting in and out of Martin's mouth as he unsnaps and unbuttons and unzips until Martin's mostly dressed but completely exposed. Pale skin flushes under his fingers, and he presses hard enough to leave white trails along pink skin as he slides a hand down the center of Martin's chest.
"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?" he whispers, working his mouth across Martin's jaw to worry an earlobe. He bites down at the same moment his hand closes around Martin's cock, and he grins at the gasp that quickly shifts to a choked, helpless moan. He licks a wet stripe down Martin's throat, stopping at his collarbone to suck hard at the skin there.
Martin's hips are moving in time with his hand, and he's stroking slow because he wants this to last. He wants to keep Martin like this as long as he can, hard and needy and totally under his control, exactly the way Danny's pictured him a hundred -- a thousand -- times before. And he'd always thought he only wanted Martin because he couldn't have him, but now he's got him, and it makes Danny want him even more.
His thumb slides through slick precome, and he lets go of Martin's cock long enough to lift his hand to his mouth, sucking the bitter-salt flavor off the tip of his finger. He waits until Martin opens his eyes, glassy and a little unfocused, but it's Martin so there's impatience there too. Danny waits until he's sure he's got Martin's attention, then he leans forward and presses another hard kiss against Martin's mouth before he drops gracefully to his knees.
Martin's still wearing his shoes and socks, but his tailored suit pants are bunched up around his ankles, and that's another thing that's definitely going to end up at the dry cleaner's. Maybe even Danny's dry cleaner's if he plays his cards right, but he's not getting ahead of himself. Right now he's got Martin up against the wall -- his wall -- and that's a lot more than he ever thought he'd have.
He glances up to make sure Martin's watching, smiling his approval, because he's always been a little bit of an exhibitionist. Two fingers slide into his mouth and he sucks, grinning around them as Martin's eyes go wide. Danny's pretty sure Martin doesn't even realize he's doing it, but his legs move a little further apart and that's all the encouragement Danny needs. He slides his wet fingers between Martin's legs as he closes his mouth around Martin's cock, tongue pressing hard against the underside as he bypasses Martin's balls to press up against taut skin.
Martin gasps somewhere above him and Danny moans in response, the sound making Martin grunt and jerk forward until his cock hits the back of Danny's throat. He reaches up with his free hand and clamps down hard on Martin's hips, guiding his thrusts so Danny doesn't choke and ruin the mood. His fingers press back, back, until they slide across that tight hole, and when Martin gasps this time and thrusts forward Danny's ready for him.
He holds Martin's hips firm against the wall with one hand, lets a finger slide inside and Martin's tighter than he expected. It makes Danny wonder how long it's been since he let someone fuck him. Maybe he hasn't been with a guy since he moved to the city, or maybe he doesn't do this with just anybody. Martin's not really the casual sex type, after all, but Danny's not going to let himself hope that means anything, not when he's on his knees with Martin's cock in his mouth.
Martin whose hips are pressing more forcefully against his hand now, his breathing more erratic and when Danny slides another finger in to join the first Martin moans and comes in his mouth.
He pulls off and spits into his hand; not the most romantic thing he's ever done, but it's either that or the carpet and he doesn't own his apartment. For a second he sits back on his heels and just looks at Martin, flushed and panting and his shirt hanging open, arms still trapped in his jacket and Danny's never going to forget this sight. He doesn't want to, because it's the hottest thing he's ever seen and he's suddenly and painfully aware of how hard he is.
Standing up reminds him that he's still wearing all his clothes, and there's still the mess in his hand to deal with so he presses a quick, soft kiss to the corner of Martin's mouth before he moves into the kitchen, washing his hands and reaching for his tie without bothering to dry them. Their clothes are going to be a wreck. Danny paid almost eight hundred dollars for the suit he's wearing right now, and at the moment he doesn't give a damn if Martin rips it right off him.
Only Martin's not in any shape to do much of anything, and Danny can't help a little self-congratulatory smile. He drops to his knees again to help Martin out of his shoes and socks, tugs his pants and boxers off the rest of the way before he stands up. When they're face to face Martin opens his eyes, and when Danny catches sight of his dazed expression he can't help the flicker of shock he's sure Martin can see in his eyes. He's good with his mouth, sure, but a blowjob's still just a blowjob, and now Danny's positive that Martin hasn't had sex at all since he got to New York.
Well at least now he knows why Martin asked Sam out for a drink. He'll have to remember to tell Martin exactly why that's a bad idea, but it'll wait until later. Much, much later, he tells himself as he pushes Martin's jacket and shirt off, mouth moving against whatever skin he can reach. And it's not until Martin's completely naked that he catches up with what's going on, fingers sliding along the collar of Danny's shirt to play with the top button. "Looks like you've got some catching up to do."
"I'm still making it up to you, remember?" Danny says. It sounds a lot more affectionate than he meant it to, but he doesn't bother trying to take it back. Instead he helps get his shirt open, letting Martin push it off along with his five hundred dollar jacket. He barely registers the sound of it hitting the floor before they're moving, his arm around Martin's waist to drag him toward the bedroom.
They make it as far as the couch. That's okay, though, because Danny's always prepared for emergencies, and while Martin fumbles with his belt buckle he reaches under the coffee table and pulls a condom and a small bottle out of a cigar box. Cuban, of course. He grins at that and lifts his hips so Martin can tug his pants down, kicking off his shoes and then the rest of his clothes.
And this is more like it, all that hot skin pressed up against his, and he flips them over so Martin's pinned underneath him again. He could definitely get used to this, and if he's got anything to say about it, that's exactly where this is headed.
"I want to fuck you."
"Thought you'd never ask," Martin says without skipping a beat, like he's supplying a line. Danny laughs and kisses him again, because he could keep doing that...pretty much forever, but when Martin thrusts up against him he moans and reaches blindly for the lube he dropped next to the couch.
It takes a few seconds to roll the condom down, then slick fingers -- not his own -- grasp his cock and he's sure he's going to come way before he's ready. Just in time Martin backs off, and Danny slides a hand under his thigh, lifting Martin's leg up and over his hip as he lines himself up and slides inside.
For a few endless seconds all he knows is hot and tight and pleasure so overwhelming it hurts, then Martin relaxes and Danny's sinking deeper, fighting to keep his eyes open because he wants to see, wants to watch Martin arching up into him, spent cock twitching every time Danny finds that spot inside him. He takes it as slow as he can, letting Martin adjust to the stretch before he pulls out, then slides back in again even more slowly, torturing them both with his need to draw this out.
And this is someplace he never thought he'd find himself, fucking Martin Fitzgerald on his couch. It's a thousand times better than he imagined, though, because Martin's...Martin, hot and a little shy but right there with him, taking what he wants and urging Danny to take just as much. His hand grips Martin's thigh hard and they're a tangle of limbs, hands in his hair to yank him down for a kiss that nearly forces him all the way out.
When Martin lets him up again he plunges right back into tight heat, angling to hit the spot that makes Martin clench hard around him, sending a jolt of pleasure through Danny's extremities. His free hand fumbles on the couch until he finds Martin's hand, fingers clenching tight as he starts moving faster, finally losing the battle with his self-control. Martin meets each thrust with a little grunt that makes Danny move even faster, and he knows he's saying something but he's not sure he's making any sense. He can't focus on the sound of his own voice for the blood rushing against his ears, and anyway he's not sure he could shut up even if he wanted to.
He's not sure how long he lasts -- 'not long enough' is all he can think when he finally lets go, collapsing against Martin to moan his orgasm against flushed, sweat-slick skin. And there's no way this is a one-time thing, because now that he knows what he's been missing he's going to want it all the time. He's always wanted Martin, always touched more than he needed to and worked just a little harder than he needed to just to make sure he was the focus of Martin's attention.
That's what the jokes and the playful little jabs are all about, and when he pushes too far, that's what the fights are about too. Now, though...now he might really have to turn his badge in after all, and he's not all that sure it wouldn't be worth it. He laughs breathlessly at that thought because he knows it's just the afterglow talking, but right now staying here with Martin forever sounds pretty damn good.
He forces himself up before he accidentally says something like that out loud, pulling out carefully and easing the loss with an affectionate kiss before he stands up and heads for the bathroom. Once the condom's taken care of he cleans up, grinning at himself in the mirror before he turns and walks back down the hall. He's on his way past his bedroom when something catches his eye, and he stops short and turns to find Martin stretched out on his bed, covers pushed back and the lines of his back highlighted by the light coming in through the window.
For a second Danny can't remember how to breathe. When his brain kicks back in he swallows hard, gripping the doorframe until he thinks he can make it across the room without hurting anything. And it's not like he's some virgin, but this is Martin, and that makes all the difference.
He stops next to the bed and reaches out, smiling at the sigh Martin lets out when Danny's hand slides down his spine. "Make yourself at home," he says, voice low in the quiet punctuated only by their breathing and the traffic outside.
Martin laughs low in his throat and turns his head until he's facing Danny. "I thought you were still making it up to me."
"I am," Danny says, and when Martin moves over to make room for him he doesn't hesitate before sliding onto the mattress next to the other man. Anything you want, he thinks, letting Martin pull him close for the next in what he hopes will be a long series of kisses.