Death Becomes Him (6/?)
Death Becomes Him (AU)
Part 6/?
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Daniel Agger
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is fictional.
Summary: This is what Daniel does after dreaming.
A/N: To those who had dirty thoughts at the ending of the last part, guess who was right? ;-)
Daniel dreams.
Everywhere, it is both pitch black and blindingly white. There’s no sight nor sound nor air, yet somehow he can breathe, and somehow he can hear all imaginable sounds at the same time, and somehow he can see every little detail from a thousand miles away. Somewhere to his side, there’s a familiar pair of eyes watching him. He had been wrong - they are not just any shade of brown. They are a play on color, but they are still the kindest eyes he’s seen. They are looking at him and into him, and he welcomes the intrusion. The thought of being watched by these particular eyes sends his heart beating wildly and a tingling sensation coursing through his body, making his toes curl and his hair standing on end. He knows they are just eyes, but he wants to be looked at and looked into forever and ever -
Daniel wakes.
It is still dark, and so terribly quiet. He sighs heavily, and he thinks he hears it echo across the room. He tries to keep still as much as possible to calm his thumping heart, but his hands keep moving.
Always. The same fucking thing, always.
He looks down. He feels the arousal from the dream coursing through his veins, consuming him. How can he keep still when, really, he can’t keep his hands from stroking and tugging furiously at his cock, his hips from thrusting up to meet each stroke, his legs from spreading even wider, or his mouth from running all sorts of indecent sounds?
Fuck! He curses himself but it comes out as a moan.
He squeezes his eyes shut and bangs his head back against the pillow, both in pleasure and in misery. Beneath his eyelids, he can still see the memory imprint of the dream, of the eyes. Who are you? What are you? His motions become feverish, stroking and thrusting wildly. Look what you’re doing to me. His back arches up and his whole body shudders. Why don’t you show yourself? I want to see you. He comes.
It is messy, as usual. He had long since decided to do away with clothes when sleeping, but somehow the idea of sleeping in the bathtub or using a plastic sheet as bedspread never stuck.
Fuck. The eyes are gone. Daniel opens his own eyes and looks out the window at the plain black sky. Now he can lie still as he tries to catch his breath and calm his heart, and he lies still even with the sticky sheets and his sticky hands.
He knows he had seen those eyes before. He remembers them from the plane crash, and he’d seen them in dreams and always in the few seconds before he’d think he would die. He’d feel the eyes watching, the someone or something behind them tensing, waiting, perhaps anticipating. But then he would be safe, and the feeling would be gone.
He thinks about this thing Martin once said: Maybe it’s Death. And he spoke about this movie where the people who escaped the plane crash were being hunted down by Death, one by one. And they go through all the trouble to evade Death, but they never actually manage to.
It makes a whole lot of sense to Daniel though - doesn’t Death always get us all in the end? It’s something he has accepted growing up an orphan. And he thinks about the people running away, escaping, hiding from Death, yet here he is: “looking for it at every opportunity,” as Martin would say.
Maybe it is Death, Daniel repeats the words in his head as he finally gets up and gathers the dirty sheets. Death who almost took him at the plane crash, Death who watches over him, Death who makes him come because of a dream.
But then why does it seem that Death is the one running away from him?
Part 6/?
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Daniel Agger
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is fictional.
Summary: This is what Daniel does after dreaming.
A/N: To those who had dirty thoughts at the ending of the last part, guess who was right? ;-)
Daniel dreams.
Everywhere, it is both pitch black and blindingly white. There’s no sight nor sound nor air, yet somehow he can breathe, and somehow he can hear all imaginable sounds at the same time, and somehow he can see every little detail from a thousand miles away. Somewhere to his side, there’s a familiar pair of eyes watching him. He had been wrong - they are not just any shade of brown. They are a play on color, but they are still the kindest eyes he’s seen. They are looking at him and into him, and he welcomes the intrusion. The thought of being watched by these particular eyes sends his heart beating wildly and a tingling sensation coursing through his body, making his toes curl and his hair standing on end. He knows they are just eyes, but he wants to be looked at and looked into forever and ever -
Daniel wakes.
It is still dark, and so terribly quiet. He sighs heavily, and he thinks he hears it echo across the room. He tries to keep still as much as possible to calm his thumping heart, but his hands keep moving.
Always. The same fucking thing, always.
He looks down. He feels the arousal from the dream coursing through his veins, consuming him. How can he keep still when, really, he can’t keep his hands from stroking and tugging furiously at his cock, his hips from thrusting up to meet each stroke, his legs from spreading even wider, or his mouth from running all sorts of indecent sounds?
Fuck! He curses himself but it comes out as a moan.
He squeezes his eyes shut and bangs his head back against the pillow, both in pleasure and in misery. Beneath his eyelids, he can still see the memory imprint of the dream, of the eyes. Who are you? What are you? His motions become feverish, stroking and thrusting wildly. Look what you’re doing to me. His back arches up and his whole body shudders. Why don’t you show yourself? I want to see you. He comes.
It is messy, as usual. He had long since decided to do away with clothes when sleeping, but somehow the idea of sleeping in the bathtub or using a plastic sheet as bedspread never stuck.
Fuck. The eyes are gone. Daniel opens his own eyes and looks out the window at the plain black sky. Now he can lie still as he tries to catch his breath and calm his heart, and he lies still even with the sticky sheets and his sticky hands.
He knows he had seen those eyes before. He remembers them from the plane crash, and he’d seen them in dreams and always in the few seconds before he’d think he would die. He’d feel the eyes watching, the someone or something behind them tensing, waiting, perhaps anticipating. But then he would be safe, and the feeling would be gone.
He thinks about this thing Martin once said: Maybe it’s Death. And he spoke about this movie where the people who escaped the plane crash were being hunted down by Death, one by one. And they go through all the trouble to evade Death, but they never actually manage to.
It makes a whole lot of sense to Daniel though - doesn’t Death always get us all in the end? It’s something he has accepted growing up an orphan. And he thinks about the people running away, escaping, hiding from Death, yet here he is: “looking for it at every opportunity,” as Martin would say.
Maybe it is Death, Daniel repeats the words in his head as he finally gets up and gathers the dirty sheets. Death who almost took him at the plane crash, Death who watches over him, Death who makes him come because of a dream.
But then why does it seem that Death is the one running away from him?