Sex and Lies - Heroes/Lost - Adam/Daniel
Title: Sex and Lies
Pairing: Adam Monroe/Daniel Faraday
Word Count: 1461
Rating: R
A/N: Written for itsjustc for the trope meme prompt, "secretly a virgin".
Summary: Daniel accidentally tells his boyfriend that he is extremely experienced in bed. He soon regrets the lie.
Daniel falls off of the bed the first time they try to have sex. He gets a bruise on his knee and lands in an awkward heap on the ground.
Still safely on the bed, Adam arches an eyebrow. "Are you sure you've done this before?" he checks again.
Daniel feels like his face is burning, and he looks up at Adam with hidden defiance in his eyes. "I'm sure," he repeats, climbing back onto the bed. "Let's try again."
Lies and half-truths: for an immortal, Daniel thinks that Adam is not very good at seeing through them.
*
They try again.
This time, it hurts so much when Adam begins to enter him that Daniel has to shake his head and tell him to stop.
"How about we try another night?" Adam suggests, lying naked at his side. "You're stressed. You need some sleep."
Daniel nods, although he doesn't think that sleep is going to help him at all: he should tell Adam that he's never done this before, that he's scared, that he's a twenty-nine year old virgin, but the words won't come at all. It's not something to be proud of, especially when he knows that Adam has walked the globe itself and seen every possibility under the sun. Daniel is intelligent, with a stack of qualifications and publications to prove as much, but when he talks with Adam he feels so unwise, so naive.
Not in this. He doesn't want this to be yet another area in which Adam must patronise his meager experience. The main problem, though, is that he really isn't good at faking it. Lying has never been his thing.
They rest side-by-side, Adam spooned behind him, but Daniel's eyes remain open, as his mind whirls with disappointment and hope for tomorrow.
*
"Daniel," Adam asks curiously after their third failed attempt. His voice is tinged with ever-present politeness. Daniel always has had a thing for English accents. "What was the name of the first man you were with?"
"Um," Daniel says. He clears his throat. "Robert."
"Robert?" Adam confirms. "Was he much older than you?"
"No, no. About the same age." Daniel rests his head on his hands, eyes closing. "We met at school."
"And?"
"And, well, we..." He had never planned on having a cover story. It's too difficult. "It was nice? Really nice."
"Mm," Adam agrees. Daniel isn't sure whether or not he is imagining the traces of suspicion in Adam's tone. Adam's hand strokes through Daniel's hair as they lie together in bed. "My first time with a man was aboard a ship to Japan. It was in the middle of a storm and there were other men in bunks nearby. I was too drunk to care about the consequences."
Daniel opens his eyes and watches Adam, feeling the gap of centuries between them. He presses his lips together, trying to work out what he is supposed to say now.
"I'm glad that your introduction to sex was pleasant," Adam continues after a pause. "I was beginning to wonder if..."
Daniel is very, very bad at mind-reading. People are strange creatures to him, not nearly as easy to predict as molecules and formulae. They are unknown entities, unquantifiable, and most of the time he would rather hide in a lab than try to interact with them at all - so it takes longer than it should, way longer, before he picks up on what Adam very carefully is not saying. "Oh!" he says. "No, no, it's not- It's not like that. I'm okay. Nothing happened."
Adam's expression is impossible for him to read. It kinda makes Daniel wish that he had somewhere to hide from him.
"Okay," Adam says eventually, as if he has reached some kind of conclusion based off of his observations. Daniel has the sudden sensation of knowing exactly what it feels like to be a lab-rat in an experiment.
He can't say he likes it one bit.
*
"Tell him," Miles says when Daniel confesses his problem to him.
This is why Daniel doesn't usually go to Miles for advice. He is far too simplistic for Daniel's liking. Also? Far too blunt.
"I can't just tell him," Daniel says. "Especially not now." He twitches nervously, his foot tapping against the floor of Miles's apartment.
"Seriously, he probably already knows. It's not like you come across as the most experienced guy in the world, y'know?" Judging from Miles's dismissive tone, that is possibly some kind of insult - but Daniel can't argue against it. He has the air of a perpetual virgin, and unless he can get over his nerves he has the feeling that it's going to stay that way.
"What if he freaks out about me lying?"
"Then he's a dick." Miles shrugs. "If he freaks out, come over here. I'll get you laid instead."
Daniel's nose wrinkles in distaste, and he is glad when Miles throws a scrunched up piece of paper in the vague direction of his head. That, at least, is proof that he is joking. With Miles, it is sometimes hard to tell.
*
He brings it up over dinner, once they are on to dessert. Adam always cooks for them, and Daniel wonders if that's the kind of thing he's supposed to feel guilty about. Maybe he should do it once in a while - burnt toast and baked beans are just as good as the steak that Adam has made tonight. Or, well, for him the effort behind them would be the same. He has never understood cooking: it should be a science, but in actuality it is more like an art.
And he is not an artist, at all.
"So," he starts. When Adam looks up at him, he stops again. He is clinging onto his spoon with a death grip that has made his knuckles go white. After clearing his throat, he tries to make himself relax. "You see, the thing is, there's something I have to tell you."
Adam nods, a small gesture that hardly counts at all. "What is it?" His voice is very carefully emotionless: it is difficult enough for Daniel to interpret Adam's emotions even when he isn't actively trying to hide them. Like this, it is simply impossible.
"Well, it's... You know the thing I said to you before?"
Adam's frown implies that, no, he has no idea what Daniel is referring to.
"About the guys I'd been with in the past?" Adam's frown clears with understanding. The palms of Daniel's hands are sweating and his throat is dry: he feels like he is about to start choking. "They're kind of... not real?"
He spots the twitch of Adam's lips, the sly curve of a smile, before Adam looks down at his plate as if it is absolutely fascinating. Daniel holds his tongue, heart beating in the silence.
"I already knew," Adam confesses. His smile is fully fledged by now: he is still looking down, but Daniel can hear it in his voice. "I've told a lot of lies in my time. Trust me when I say that I know how to spot one."
"You... Huh?"
"Perhaps I didn't 'know', but I had my suspicions," Adam says. Daniel hadn't foreseen this; usually, when Miles talks he tries to imagine that the opposite of what he says is true. "It's okay. I'm here because I find you interesting, not because I want to leap into bed with a sex god. That's my half of the equation."
Daniel's nose wrinkles in disbelief. "'Sex god'? Really?"
"I've had enough time to practice," Adam points out. Centuries of it, and when Daniel starts to think of all the experience that he must have his heart starts to sink. He wonders if it would be rude to go and hide in the kitchen. "I'm glad for it - when it's your first time, when you're ready, you deserve something perfect. I hope to be able to provide it."
Daniel has been warned about Adam. He has been told not to trust a word he says and to know that he is only ever out for himself; every single sentence that passes from his lips has an ulterior motives. Everyone says so. He's a charming, wonderful sociopath, and he plays the kind of mad games that Daniel's scientific theories would make possible. There is no reason to trust him.
Daniel doesn't care.
The way that Adam is looking at him right now isn't manipulative and it isn't malicious; it makes him smile, and there can't be anything wrong with that.
"I'm looking forward to it," Daniel says, nerves and butterflies begin to gather in his stomach.
By the following morning, he is a virgin no more - and after calling Miles to quietly gloat about it, Daniel has to admit that it feels pretty damn good.
Pairing: Adam Monroe/Daniel Faraday
Word Count: 1461
Rating: R
A/N: Written for itsjustc for the trope meme prompt, "secretly a virgin".
Summary: Daniel accidentally tells his boyfriend that he is extremely experienced in bed. He soon regrets the lie.
Daniel falls off of the bed the first time they try to have sex. He gets a bruise on his knee and lands in an awkward heap on the ground.
Still safely on the bed, Adam arches an eyebrow. "Are you sure you've done this before?" he checks again.
Daniel feels like his face is burning, and he looks up at Adam with hidden defiance in his eyes. "I'm sure," he repeats, climbing back onto the bed. "Let's try again."
Lies and half-truths: for an immortal, Daniel thinks that Adam is not very good at seeing through them.
*
They try again.
This time, it hurts so much when Adam begins to enter him that Daniel has to shake his head and tell him to stop.
"How about we try another night?" Adam suggests, lying naked at his side. "You're stressed. You need some sleep."
Daniel nods, although he doesn't think that sleep is going to help him at all: he should tell Adam that he's never done this before, that he's scared, that he's a twenty-nine year old virgin, but the words won't come at all. It's not something to be proud of, especially when he knows that Adam has walked the globe itself and seen every possibility under the sun. Daniel is intelligent, with a stack of qualifications and publications to prove as much, but when he talks with Adam he feels so unwise, so naive.
Not in this. He doesn't want this to be yet another area in which Adam must patronise his meager experience. The main problem, though, is that he really isn't good at faking it. Lying has never been his thing.
They rest side-by-side, Adam spooned behind him, but Daniel's eyes remain open, as his mind whirls with disappointment and hope for tomorrow.
*
"Daniel," Adam asks curiously after their third failed attempt. His voice is tinged with ever-present politeness. Daniel always has had a thing for English accents. "What was the name of the first man you were with?"
"Um," Daniel says. He clears his throat. "Robert."
"Robert?" Adam confirms. "Was he much older than you?"
"No, no. About the same age." Daniel rests his head on his hands, eyes closing. "We met at school."
"And?"
"And, well, we..." He had never planned on having a cover story. It's too difficult. "It was nice? Really nice."
"Mm," Adam agrees. Daniel isn't sure whether or not he is imagining the traces of suspicion in Adam's tone. Adam's hand strokes through Daniel's hair as they lie together in bed. "My first time with a man was aboard a ship to Japan. It was in the middle of a storm and there were other men in bunks nearby. I was too drunk to care about the consequences."
Daniel opens his eyes and watches Adam, feeling the gap of centuries between them. He presses his lips together, trying to work out what he is supposed to say now.
"I'm glad that your introduction to sex was pleasant," Adam continues after a pause. "I was beginning to wonder if..."
Daniel is very, very bad at mind-reading. People are strange creatures to him, not nearly as easy to predict as molecules and formulae. They are unknown entities, unquantifiable, and most of the time he would rather hide in a lab than try to interact with them at all - so it takes longer than it should, way longer, before he picks up on what Adam very carefully is not saying. "Oh!" he says. "No, no, it's not- It's not like that. I'm okay. Nothing happened."
Adam's expression is impossible for him to read. It kinda makes Daniel wish that he had somewhere to hide from him.
"Okay," Adam says eventually, as if he has reached some kind of conclusion based off of his observations. Daniel has the sudden sensation of knowing exactly what it feels like to be a lab-rat in an experiment.
He can't say he likes it one bit.
*
"Tell him," Miles says when Daniel confesses his problem to him.
This is why Daniel doesn't usually go to Miles for advice. He is far too simplistic for Daniel's liking. Also? Far too blunt.
"I can't just tell him," Daniel says. "Especially not now." He twitches nervously, his foot tapping against the floor of Miles's apartment.
"Seriously, he probably already knows. It's not like you come across as the most experienced guy in the world, y'know?" Judging from Miles's dismissive tone, that is possibly some kind of insult - but Daniel can't argue against it. He has the air of a perpetual virgin, and unless he can get over his nerves he has the feeling that it's going to stay that way.
"What if he freaks out about me lying?"
"Then he's a dick." Miles shrugs. "If he freaks out, come over here. I'll get you laid instead."
Daniel's nose wrinkles in distaste, and he is glad when Miles throws a scrunched up piece of paper in the vague direction of his head. That, at least, is proof that he is joking. With Miles, it is sometimes hard to tell.
*
He brings it up over dinner, once they are on to dessert. Adam always cooks for them, and Daniel wonders if that's the kind of thing he's supposed to feel guilty about. Maybe he should do it once in a while - burnt toast and baked beans are just as good as the steak that Adam has made tonight. Or, well, for him the effort behind them would be the same. He has never understood cooking: it should be a science, but in actuality it is more like an art.
And he is not an artist, at all.
"So," he starts. When Adam looks up at him, he stops again. He is clinging onto his spoon with a death grip that has made his knuckles go white. After clearing his throat, he tries to make himself relax. "You see, the thing is, there's something I have to tell you."
Adam nods, a small gesture that hardly counts at all. "What is it?" His voice is very carefully emotionless: it is difficult enough for Daniel to interpret Adam's emotions even when he isn't actively trying to hide them. Like this, it is simply impossible.
"Well, it's... You know the thing I said to you before?"
Adam's frown implies that, no, he has no idea what Daniel is referring to.
"About the guys I'd been with in the past?" Adam's frown clears with understanding. The palms of Daniel's hands are sweating and his throat is dry: he feels like he is about to start choking. "They're kind of... not real?"
He spots the twitch of Adam's lips, the sly curve of a smile, before Adam looks down at his plate as if it is absolutely fascinating. Daniel holds his tongue, heart beating in the silence.
"I already knew," Adam confesses. His smile is fully fledged by now: he is still looking down, but Daniel can hear it in his voice. "I've told a lot of lies in my time. Trust me when I say that I know how to spot one."
"You... Huh?"
"Perhaps I didn't 'know', but I had my suspicions," Adam says. Daniel hadn't foreseen this; usually, when Miles talks he tries to imagine that the opposite of what he says is true. "It's okay. I'm here because I find you interesting, not because I want to leap into bed with a sex god. That's my half of the equation."
Daniel's nose wrinkles in disbelief. "'Sex god'? Really?"
"I've had enough time to practice," Adam points out. Centuries of it, and when Daniel starts to think of all the experience that he must have his heart starts to sink. He wonders if it would be rude to go and hide in the kitchen. "I'm glad for it - when it's your first time, when you're ready, you deserve something perfect. I hope to be able to provide it."
Daniel has been warned about Adam. He has been told not to trust a word he says and to know that he is only ever out for himself; every single sentence that passes from his lips has an ulterior motives. Everyone says so. He's a charming, wonderful sociopath, and he plays the kind of mad games that Daniel's scientific theories would make possible. There is no reason to trust him.
Daniel doesn't care.
The way that Adam is looking at him right now isn't manipulative and it isn't malicious; it makes him smile, and there can't be anything wrong with that.
"I'm looking forward to it," Daniel says, nerves and butterflies begin to gather in his stomach.
By the following morning, he is a virgin no more - and after calling Miles to quietly gloat about it, Daniel has to admit that it feels pretty damn good.