Up The Ante
Title: Up The Ante
Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: R-ish
Word Count: 1,035
Characters: Dan Dreiberg/Nite Owl II & Walter Joseph Kovacs/Rorschach
Author's Notes: For the Watchmen Secret Santa: a (barely) established Dan/Ror fic, in which Dan challenges Rorschach to a game of strip poker.
Rorschach has the best poker face that Dan has ever seen. At least, when the mask is rolled up and the blots are harder to interpret. Rorschach's mask almost always gives him away, reacting to the heat of his face and the tiny flinches in his otherwise blank expression. As they play a few hands, it doesn't take long for Dan to learn the difference between anticipation and a shitty hand.
When the mask is rolled up and the fabric over Rorschach's cheeks obscured, however, it is damn near impossible to read the masked man, and Dan can almost count on losing. But, he can also count on Rorschach never bluffing.
Dan also comes to realize, as Rorschach shrugs off his trench coat, that the less layers his partner wears, the more easily he can pick up on the subtle body language too. Rorschach's shoulders curl forward the slightest bit when he's got nothing and he leans indulgently against the table when he's about to rob Dan blind.
He does exactly that when Dan suggests that they raise the stakes even higher than the weightless chips he's divvied out (because gambling is immoral, but it's not gambling if there's nothing to lose, right?). "Whoever loses the next hand, loses an article of clothing."
"Hurm," Rorschach grunts thoughtfully. The expected speech about depraved debauchery doesn't come and Dan waits excitedly while his partner deliberates. "All right," the other man agrees. Dan can hear the self-confidence in his tone, see it in the line of his shoulders, and knows that the masked man expects to win.
"Face doesn't count however," and the statement is obliged for this ruse, as Rorschach is certain it wont come to that at all. Dan's inevitable loss and embarrassment is a gamble this proud man is willing to take, all the more to boast his victory in the end.
Dan grins when he pulls the latex down firmly and tucks it into his scarf. "Deal."
When Rorschach loses the first hand, he is less than pleased and a little bit shocked when Dan announces that he gets to choose what comes off first, tugging Rorschach's suit jacket over one shoulder.
Rorschach wins the next round as the dark swirls on his face unreadable as his cheeks burn with embarrassment and frustration. He rucks his mask up to chew his fingernails, which is unfortunately an ambiguous tell despite the anxiety in the action, and he reaches to pluck at the collar of Dan's sweater vest.
He wins the next hand as well, "Socks, Daniel," and Dan gives him a puzzled look, then doubles over to remove a shoe, then a sock, and then replaces his shoe again at Rorschach's request, agreeing that it's only fair to do one at a time since Rorschach is wearing far more layers than Dan.
"Don't worry, it'll even out. I'm gonna win anyway," Dan tells him with a snide grin. Rorschach chews on the fingers of his other hand.
Dan loses again. "Belt doesn't count, Daniel." Dan says nothing as Rorschach reaches out to unbutton Dan's bluejeans, his hands lingering for a moment before he unzips the fly and tugs them down. And Dan is thoroughly embarrassed now.
The next hand, Rorschach gnaws on his fingers and this tell is slightly less ambiguous. It's hard to say who is blushing harder when Dan reaches over to undo the first of the buttons on Rorschach's white button down shirt, particularly when Rorschach makes no move to comply. Dan finishes the rest himself, breathing hard as he pulls the shirttails from Rorschach's trousers, then smoothing the elastic of his suspenders over his undershirt, beneath his vest. Rorschach's shoulders are tighter than usually and that much easier to read as a result, but he stops chewing his nails and the mask stays up as he frowns hatefully.
Finally, Dan is made to toe off his shoes with Rorschach's full house.
Dan leans a bit too close, gets a bit too grabby, breath a little too warm against the exposed part of Rorschach's face as he slides off Rorschach's vest and then peels away his undershirt, up and over his head. The mask comes down and the blots move erratically but Dan isn't looking at his face anyway.
"Enjoying this too much, Daniel," Rorschach rasps and that is not helplessness in his voice. Dan is enjoying, perhaps too much, the way Rorschach's abdomen clenches when he says Dan's name. "Going to cut the deck?"
"Oh, er... Yeah."
Off with Dan's bow-tie. Rorschach's knuckles brush his throat.
Neither is paying attention. Rorschach is covered in freckles, Dan in copious body hair. Rorschach's blush blooms from his chest outward and from under the mask, Dan's up from the waistline of his boxers. Dan isn't the only one distracted anymore. Rorschach isn't the only one who fails to comply. Deft, impatient hands unbutton Dan's shirt in turn. A tug on a violet suspender and Rorschach is sitting closer, on the same side of the table as Dan.
If Rorschach blushes any harder, Dan fears he'll catch fire, so he makes quick work at the fly of the pinstriped trousers. He is astonished that Rorschach hasn't objected to any of this and wonders if his partner is really so foolhardy. But as Rorschach sinks down to slouch in his chair and lifts his hips, watching as Dan tugs down the purple pants, Dan wonders if the improvidence is all his own.
When Dan slips Rorschach's shoes off, having a difficult time tugging them through the pant legs, he doesn't bother to put them back on. Neither does Rorschach.
They sit in their underwear as the cards are shuffled for the last hand to be dealt. The hand is played without much observance of formality. When Rorschach stands, Dan is certain that he has lost, but then he's kissing latex covered lips and Rorschach is in his lap.
"What did you have?"
"Queen and deuce."
Dan grins and hooks his thumbs into Rorschach's briefs. The masked mask tosses his cards onto the table, casting a Big Slick into the river.
And it doesn't matter at all that he's bluffing when Dan has upped the ante.
He's all-in.
Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: R-ish
Word Count: 1,035
Characters: Dan Dreiberg/Nite Owl II & Walter Joseph Kovacs/Rorschach
Author's Notes: For the Watchmen Secret Santa: a (barely) established Dan/Ror fic, in which Dan challenges Rorschach to a game of strip poker.
Rorschach has the best poker face that Dan has ever seen. At least, when the mask is rolled up and the blots are harder to interpret. Rorschach's mask almost always gives him away, reacting to the heat of his face and the tiny flinches in his otherwise blank expression. As they play a few hands, it doesn't take long for Dan to learn the difference between anticipation and a shitty hand.
When the mask is rolled up and the fabric over Rorschach's cheeks obscured, however, it is damn near impossible to read the masked man, and Dan can almost count on losing. But, he can also count on Rorschach never bluffing.
Dan also comes to realize, as Rorschach shrugs off his trench coat, that the less layers his partner wears, the more easily he can pick up on the subtle body language too. Rorschach's shoulders curl forward the slightest bit when he's got nothing and he leans indulgently against the table when he's about to rob Dan blind.
He does exactly that when Dan suggests that they raise the stakes even higher than the weightless chips he's divvied out (because gambling is immoral, but it's not gambling if there's nothing to lose, right?). "Whoever loses the next hand, loses an article of clothing."
"Hurm," Rorschach grunts thoughtfully. The expected speech about depraved debauchery doesn't come and Dan waits excitedly while his partner deliberates. "All right," the other man agrees. Dan can hear the self-confidence in his tone, see it in the line of his shoulders, and knows that the masked man expects to win.
"Face doesn't count however," and the statement is obliged for this ruse, as Rorschach is certain it wont come to that at all. Dan's inevitable loss and embarrassment is a gamble this proud man is willing to take, all the more to boast his victory in the end.
Dan grins when he pulls the latex down firmly and tucks it into his scarf. "Deal."
When Rorschach loses the first hand, he is less than pleased and a little bit shocked when Dan announces that he gets to choose what comes off first, tugging Rorschach's suit jacket over one shoulder.
Rorschach wins the next round as the dark swirls on his face unreadable as his cheeks burn with embarrassment and frustration. He rucks his mask up to chew his fingernails, which is unfortunately an ambiguous tell despite the anxiety in the action, and he reaches to pluck at the collar of Dan's sweater vest.
He wins the next hand as well, "Socks, Daniel," and Dan gives him a puzzled look, then doubles over to remove a shoe, then a sock, and then replaces his shoe again at Rorschach's request, agreeing that it's only fair to do one at a time since Rorschach is wearing far more layers than Dan.
"Don't worry, it'll even out. I'm gonna win anyway," Dan tells him with a snide grin. Rorschach chews on the fingers of his other hand.
Dan loses again. "Belt doesn't count, Daniel." Dan says nothing as Rorschach reaches out to unbutton Dan's bluejeans, his hands lingering for a moment before he unzips the fly and tugs them down. And Dan is thoroughly embarrassed now.
The next hand, Rorschach gnaws on his fingers and this tell is slightly less ambiguous. It's hard to say who is blushing harder when Dan reaches over to undo the first of the buttons on Rorschach's white button down shirt, particularly when Rorschach makes no move to comply. Dan finishes the rest himself, breathing hard as he pulls the shirttails from Rorschach's trousers, then smoothing the elastic of his suspenders over his undershirt, beneath his vest. Rorschach's shoulders are tighter than usually and that much easier to read as a result, but he stops chewing his nails and the mask stays up as he frowns hatefully.
Finally, Dan is made to toe off his shoes with Rorschach's full house.
Dan leans a bit too close, gets a bit too grabby, breath a little too warm against the exposed part of Rorschach's face as he slides off Rorschach's vest and then peels away his undershirt, up and over his head. The mask comes down and the blots move erratically but Dan isn't looking at his face anyway.
"Enjoying this too much, Daniel," Rorschach rasps and that is not helplessness in his voice. Dan is enjoying, perhaps too much, the way Rorschach's abdomen clenches when he says Dan's name. "Going to cut the deck?"
"Oh, er... Yeah."
Off with Dan's bow-tie. Rorschach's knuckles brush his throat.
Neither is paying attention. Rorschach is covered in freckles, Dan in copious body hair. Rorschach's blush blooms from his chest outward and from under the mask, Dan's up from the waistline of his boxers. Dan isn't the only one distracted anymore. Rorschach isn't the only one who fails to comply. Deft, impatient hands unbutton Dan's shirt in turn. A tug on a violet suspender and Rorschach is sitting closer, on the same side of the table as Dan.
If Rorschach blushes any harder, Dan fears he'll catch fire, so he makes quick work at the fly of the pinstriped trousers. He is astonished that Rorschach hasn't objected to any of this and wonders if his partner is really so foolhardy. But as Rorschach sinks down to slouch in his chair and lifts his hips, watching as Dan tugs down the purple pants, Dan wonders if the improvidence is all his own.
When Dan slips Rorschach's shoes off, having a difficult time tugging them through the pant legs, he doesn't bother to put them back on. Neither does Rorschach.
They sit in their underwear as the cards are shuffled for the last hand to be dealt. The hand is played without much observance of formality. When Rorschach stands, Dan is certain that he has lost, but then he's kissing latex covered lips and Rorschach is in his lap.
"What did you have?"
"Queen and deuce."
Dan grins and hooks his thumbs into Rorschach's briefs. The masked mask tosses his cards onto the table, casting a Big Slick into the river.
And it doesn't matter at all that he's bluffing when Dan has upped the ante.
He's all-in.