Stay
Title: Stay
Author: karma_static_tk
Pairing: Dan/Casey
Rating: PG-13ish
Summary: A night where there was Jaegermeister and a St. Crispin’s Day speech and his best friend is a night that Dan won't soon forget.
FYI: Also posted as a drabble on sn100...comments appreciated: I haven't written in a long time.
He slides his arm around her, and when it curves into the softness of her side, he is confused. He expected something completely different. Anything but the soft, smooth roundness that lies under his arm. It isn’t that he hasn’t been with a woman in any span of time. It’s that he doesn’t stay. He has no sense-memory of this feeling. This kind of intimacy.
He’s hit-and-run Danny, he never stays. He tried not to be impolite, but staying for breakfast and seeing her in his collared shirt was never his style. Other than the first time, with a sweet, pretty girl named Laura, he has never been one to stay. In college, he made excuses to leave, but as his life has progressed, he hasn’t needed to make excuses. Some women expect him to leave; others ask alluringly if he’ll stay. There’s only one other time that he can remember since the first time. One other time when he stayed. One other time where things weren’t so smooth, soft and round.
One time where there was Jäegermeister and a St. Crispin’s Day speech and his best friend. There was nothing soft about that night except for Casey’s eyelashes ghosting over the skin of his chest, the feel of Casey’s lips as they brushed across his collarbone and the feel of Casey’s sweater in his hands as he slid it over Casey’s head.
There was nothing soft about the next morning, when Casey woke up, married to Lisa, and surprised that the hand wrapped around his hip belonged to his best friend. Nothing soft about the way Casey threw himself around the hotel room picking up his clothes and pulling them on, ignoring Dan and seeming to ignore what had happened. There was only hardness at the lunch that they shared, when Casey was a stone wall with no emotion in his voice. There was no softness in Casey’s voice as he told Dan that it would never happen again. Because he was married. Because he had a son. Because he was Dan. Because. And when Casey ran out of reasons, and his voice became soft, Dan watched his every movement for a hint of anything.
Now, even her bed is too soft and smooth for Dan. He longs for the firm bed, the worn sheets of his own apartment or the sheet that Casey throws on the couch when Dan stays. He pushes himself out of the bed and stealthy moves around the unfamiliar apartment picking up his clothes and his coat. He silently opens the door, knowing that it will lock behind him. He has the chance for intimacy.
He’s glad he didn’t stay. But he wishes Casey would have.
He climbs into his own bed and pulls the sheets up to his head, and doing something he hasn’t done in a long time, he wraps his top arm around his chest, and imagines that it is Casey’s that night in Minneapolis, the one at the Radisson Hotel, the room that he still has a room key to, tucked into the top drawer of the table next to his bed. The night that Casey makes jokes about; the night that still seems to make Casey nervous around Dan.
He thinks about it sometimes, Casey’s arms around him, and falling asleep with his arm around his best friend and the hard curve of his hip. All he can think about is the moments before Casey woke completely up, when he was ghosting his hand over Dan’s side, and his arm, trying to remember who he was in bed with.
He moves to “his” side of the bed, and thinks about the man who could have his arms wrapped around him right now. He thinks about soft touches, and soft moans and praises. He thinks about sweetly whispered I love yous.
He wishes everything with Casey wasn’t so hard.
Author: karma_static_tk
Pairing: Dan/Casey
Rating: PG-13ish
Summary: A night where there was Jaegermeister and a St. Crispin’s Day speech and his best friend is a night that Dan won't soon forget.
FYI: Also posted as a drabble on sn100...comments appreciated: I haven't written in a long time.
He slides his arm around her, and when it curves into the softness of her side, he is confused. He expected something completely different. Anything but the soft, smooth roundness that lies under his arm. It isn’t that he hasn’t been with a woman in any span of time. It’s that he doesn’t stay. He has no sense-memory of this feeling. This kind of intimacy.
He’s hit-and-run Danny, he never stays. He tried not to be impolite, but staying for breakfast and seeing her in his collared shirt was never his style. Other than the first time, with a sweet, pretty girl named Laura, he has never been one to stay. In college, he made excuses to leave, but as his life has progressed, he hasn’t needed to make excuses. Some women expect him to leave; others ask alluringly if he’ll stay. There’s only one other time that he can remember since the first time. One other time when he stayed. One other time where things weren’t so smooth, soft and round.
One time where there was Jäegermeister and a St. Crispin’s Day speech and his best friend. There was nothing soft about that night except for Casey’s eyelashes ghosting over the skin of his chest, the feel of Casey’s lips as they brushed across his collarbone and the feel of Casey’s sweater in his hands as he slid it over Casey’s head.
There was nothing soft about the next morning, when Casey woke up, married to Lisa, and surprised that the hand wrapped around his hip belonged to his best friend. Nothing soft about the way Casey threw himself around the hotel room picking up his clothes and pulling them on, ignoring Dan and seeming to ignore what had happened. There was only hardness at the lunch that they shared, when Casey was a stone wall with no emotion in his voice. There was no softness in Casey’s voice as he told Dan that it would never happen again. Because he was married. Because he had a son. Because he was Dan. Because. And when Casey ran out of reasons, and his voice became soft, Dan watched his every movement for a hint of anything.
Now, even her bed is too soft and smooth for Dan. He longs for the firm bed, the worn sheets of his own apartment or the sheet that Casey throws on the couch when Dan stays. He pushes himself out of the bed and stealthy moves around the unfamiliar apartment picking up his clothes and his coat. He silently opens the door, knowing that it will lock behind him. He has the chance for intimacy.
He’s glad he didn’t stay. But he wishes Casey would have.
He climbs into his own bed and pulls the sheets up to his head, and doing something he hasn’t done in a long time, he wraps his top arm around his chest, and imagines that it is Casey’s that night in Minneapolis, the one at the Radisson Hotel, the room that he still has a room key to, tucked into the top drawer of the table next to his bed. The night that Casey makes jokes about; the night that still seems to make Casey nervous around Dan.
He thinks about it sometimes, Casey’s arms around him, and falling asleep with his arm around his best friend and the hard curve of his hip. All he can think about is the moments before Casey woke completely up, when he was ghosting his hand over Dan’s side, and his arm, trying to remember who he was in bed with.
He moves to “his” side of the bed, and thinks about the man who could have his arms wrapped around him right now. He thinks about soft touches, and soft moans and praises. He thinks about sweetly whispered I love yous.
He wishes everything with Casey wasn’t so hard.