Saturday, Danny's apartment
Danny was in deep shit. Totally. If Lindsay ever found out what he'd done..
He always found trouble when he drank, and last night was no exception. He and Don had gone out clubbing and before he fully realized what he was doing, he'd had Don backed up against one of the dark walls and was kissing him hungrily. Flack had been a gentleman, pushing him away out of both shock and respect. The two of them left the club, making their way to Cavanaugh's, where they met up with Lindsay and managed to find more beer. Danny had kept one arm around Lindsay and one around Don, wanting them both as close as possible, and somehow both of them had managed to go along with it.
Lindsay had walked them both home... or they had walked her home, Danny was confused as to what actually happened. He remembered getting inside and offering Flack a drink. Then in one way or another, he'd managed to pin Don to the refrigerator and kiss him again, his hands tugging on the other man's clothes. Danny had been seeking the familiar, wanting the memories to become real again.
It wasn't like he'd forgotten about Lindsay, not at all. Don was just.. Don. Still his, in some way, and even with Lindsay three doors down, it wasn't long before clothes were being dropped on the floor as the two men made their way to the bedroom. He couldn't remember the details, just that Don tasted good and felt even better, and the two of them obviously hadn't forgotten how to drive each other crazy. In the morning, they'd woken up pressed against each other and nowhere near ready to talk about it.
Flack had spent the afternoon being quiet, but after one guilty look too many, Danny threw a PlayStation controller into his lap. He'd had enough.
So that's how they'd spent most of the day, leaning against each other on Danny's floor and trying to kick one another's ass. The tension was still there, but it was easing with every jab they gave each other. The jabs, the name-calling, and the solemn vow to not let anyone know what they'd been up to.
He always found trouble when he drank, and last night was no exception. He and Don had gone out clubbing and before he fully realized what he was doing, he'd had Don backed up against one of the dark walls and was kissing him hungrily. Flack had been a gentleman, pushing him away out of both shock and respect. The two of them left the club, making their way to Cavanaugh's, where they met up with Lindsay and managed to find more beer. Danny had kept one arm around Lindsay and one around Don, wanting them both as close as possible, and somehow both of them had managed to go along with it.
Lindsay had walked them both home... or they had walked her home, Danny was confused as to what actually happened. He remembered getting inside and offering Flack a drink. Then in one way or another, he'd managed to pin Don to the refrigerator and kiss him again, his hands tugging on the other man's clothes. Danny had been seeking the familiar, wanting the memories to become real again.
It wasn't like he'd forgotten about Lindsay, not at all. Don was just.. Don. Still his, in some way, and even with Lindsay three doors down, it wasn't long before clothes were being dropped on the floor as the two men made their way to the bedroom. He couldn't remember the details, just that Don tasted good and felt even better, and the two of them obviously hadn't forgotten how to drive each other crazy. In the morning, they'd woken up pressed against each other and nowhere near ready to talk about it.
Flack had spent the afternoon being quiet, but after one guilty look too many, Danny threw a PlayStation controller into his lap. He'd had enough.
So that's how they'd spent most of the day, leaning against each other on Danny's floor and trying to kick one another's ass. The tension was still there, but it was easing with every jab they gave each other. The jabs, the name-calling, and the solemn vow to not let anyone know what they'd been up to.