Distraction by quiesce, Dan/Dave, rated: PG
Title: Distraction
Author: quiesce
Author Website: fic index post
Pairing: Dan/Dave
Rating: PG
Category: slash
Disclaimer: I am not Aaron Sorkin.
Notes: For phoebesmum. Happy birthday! And a billion and one thank yous to catwalksalone for helping me out.
Dan rambles on about some game -- baseball, Dave thinks, but he doesn't really care. He smiles and nods, frowns and makes various "isn't that interesting" noises. He's learnt from experience that the worst thing to do is to feign interest by asking a question -- invariably, he'll guess the sport wrong and then he'll have to listen to a "why sports are important" tangent before Dan starts his play-by-play over again. The second worst thing he could do is to get caught trying to distract Dan. That also yields the tangent, although Dan usually resumes whatever game he's talking about from where he left off rather than the beginning, so it's not quite as bad.
The thing is, Dave likes sports. Really. He was on the basketball team all the way through high school and occasionally plays 3-on-3 with Chris and Will. He makes all of his son's t-ball games, when his ex can be bothered to give him the right schedule. He usually fares quite well in fantasy football. It's not absolutely necessary for the director of Sports Night to like sports -- having nothing to do with editorial content -- but it helps.
The difference is that Dave likes other things too. At work? Good time to talk about sports. Spending a night off at his boyfriend's? There are other things Dave would rather be doing. The trick is convincing Dan of that without being subjected to a detailed explanation as to why this particular game needs to be relived at this precise moment in time.
Dave rests a hand gently on Dan's knee, careful to keep nodding and not let his gaze wander away from Dan's face. Dan's eyes narrow and he glances down and for a second, Dave thinks the jig is up but Dan doesn't stop talking. Now it's just a matter of patience.
Dave breathes slowly and deeply, letting his hand drift up the tiniest bit with each exhale. It's slow and torturous, but it works.
Breathe.
Dave's hand brushes over the worn denim.
Breathe.
"... and remember, this was McManus' first game back after his concussion ..."
Breathe.
Dave reminds himself to keep his touch light. As much as he loves running his hands over Dan's thighs, too much pressure now and Dan will realize what he's up to and call him on it.
Breathe.
"... so Johnson's in the dugout, screaming at the rest of the team ..."
Breathe.
Dave wonders how much longer he has until Dan notices. His hand has moved well out of "friendly, casual touch" territory and is approaching "why aren't we working on getting naked?" land.
Breathe.
"Oh," Dan says simply, cutting himself off mid-sentence. He looks down.
The game's over, so Dave gives up any pretence of innocence. He moves his hand up higher and gives Dan a firm squeeze. "You were saying something about Ortez limping off the field?" Dave grins.
"Right. Uh, he started to ... um ... head back ... um ... and ..."
"And?" Dave prods, teasing his fingers along Dan's inseam.
"And I think maybe we could make better use of our night off than just talking about baseball."
"Damn. I really wanted to hear how the game ended."
"Bastard," Dan says playfully. He shuffles around on the couch until he's straddling Dave. Dan bends his head down to whisper in Dave's ear. "You know, it's gonna be a slow day at the office tomorrow. Plenty of time to finish what I started. There'll be diagrams. And a test. And ... " Dan nips Dave's earlobe gently, "Witnesses."
Dave groans.
Author: quiesce
Author Website: fic index post
Pairing: Dan/Dave
Rating: PG
Category: slash
Disclaimer: I am not Aaron Sorkin.
Notes: For phoebesmum. Happy birthday! And a billion and one thank yous to catwalksalone for helping me out.
Dan rambles on about some game -- baseball, Dave thinks, but he doesn't really care. He smiles and nods, frowns and makes various "isn't that interesting" noises. He's learnt from experience that the worst thing to do is to feign interest by asking a question -- invariably, he'll guess the sport wrong and then he'll have to listen to a "why sports are important" tangent before Dan starts his play-by-play over again. The second worst thing he could do is to get caught trying to distract Dan. That also yields the tangent, although Dan usually resumes whatever game he's talking about from where he left off rather than the beginning, so it's not quite as bad.
The thing is, Dave likes sports. Really. He was on the basketball team all the way through high school and occasionally plays 3-on-3 with Chris and Will. He makes all of his son's t-ball games, when his ex can be bothered to give him the right schedule. He usually fares quite well in fantasy football. It's not absolutely necessary for the director of Sports Night to like sports -- having nothing to do with editorial content -- but it helps.
The difference is that Dave likes other things too. At work? Good time to talk about sports. Spending a night off at his boyfriend's? There are other things Dave would rather be doing. The trick is convincing Dan of that without being subjected to a detailed explanation as to why this particular game needs to be relived at this precise moment in time.
Dave rests a hand gently on Dan's knee, careful to keep nodding and not let his gaze wander away from Dan's face. Dan's eyes narrow and he glances down and for a second, Dave thinks the jig is up but Dan doesn't stop talking. Now it's just a matter of patience.
Dave breathes slowly and deeply, letting his hand drift up the tiniest bit with each exhale. It's slow and torturous, but it works.
Breathe.
Dave's hand brushes over the worn denim.
Breathe.
"... and remember, this was McManus' first game back after his concussion ..."
Breathe.
Dave reminds himself to keep his touch light. As much as he loves running his hands over Dan's thighs, too much pressure now and Dan will realize what he's up to and call him on it.
Breathe.
"... so Johnson's in the dugout, screaming at the rest of the team ..."
Breathe.
Dave wonders how much longer he has until Dan notices. His hand has moved well out of "friendly, casual touch" territory and is approaching "why aren't we working on getting naked?" land.
Breathe.
"Oh," Dan says simply, cutting himself off mid-sentence. He looks down.
The game's over, so Dave gives up any pretence of innocence. He moves his hand up higher and gives Dan a firm squeeze. "You were saying something about Ortez limping off the field?" Dave grins.
"Right. Uh, he started to ... um ... head back ... um ... and ..."
"And?" Dave prods, teasing his fingers along Dan's inseam.
"And I think maybe we could make better use of our night off than just talking about baseball."
"Damn. I really wanted to hear how the game ended."
"Bastard," Dan says playfully. He shuffles around on the couch until he's straddling Dave. Dan bends his head down to whisper in Dave's ear. "You know, it's gonna be a slow day at the office tomorrow. Plenty of time to finish what I started. There'll be diagrams. And a test. And ... " Dan nips Dave's earlobe gently, "Witnesses."
Dave groans.