wilby fic for nifra
nifra_idril wanted comfort fic. Only, since she is not brooklinegirl, strangely enough this does not consist of genderfuck menstruation fic.
Instead, she wanted Wilby Wonderful fic. Crazy girl.
*****
When Dan woke up this morning, Duck had already left for work. He left a note on the counter in the kitchen and a pot of coffee still going in the kitchen. Dan sat at the table, drinking coffee and eating an orange, staring out the window into Duck's yard. He wandered around the house after breakfast, looking at the knickknacks on the shelves and the pictures on the walls and the furniture in each of the rooms.
Later in the morning he went to the library, across the island. He walked slowly, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face, stopping once in a while to look at the clouds, the trees, the houses, the people. On his way back from the library he set his books on the ground to pick wildflowers off the side of the dead end leading out to Duck's house.
Duck got home in the late afternoon, covered with dirt and sweat. He had brought home some styrofoam containers and a video cassette, and his face broke into a wide smile when he set them down on the table and saw the vase there.
Dan heated up the food in the microwave and set the table while Duck showered. Duck reappeared a few minutes later, in jeans and a different shirt, his towel-dried hair sticking up in every direction. They ate dinner quietly in the kitchen, the ceiling fan whirling above them.
"I got us a movie," Duck said, while they ate. "I don't know if you've seen it before."
"Yeah," said Dan. He'd seen it five times. "It's a good one, though."
"You said you liked Westerns, so I thought..." Duck said, half-shrugging as though it didn't matter. "We could watch it after dinner, if you want."
Dan said, "I'd like that," and Duck smiled again and looked down at his plate.
All the blinds in the living room were shut, trying to keep the house cool, but some of the evening sunlight still came through. They sat on the couch, close enough that their legs pressed together. After a few minutes, Duck picked up Dan's hand, lacing it with his own and resting their hands together on his thigh.
The movie occupied much less of Dan's attention than Duck did. Duck's hand was warm and callused. Dan was overly aware of the rhythm of his own breath and the beating of his heart. He couldn't even pay attention to the plot of the movie, even though presumably it was just the same as every other time.
Duck let out a slow breath, and leaned in further against Dan, not quite resting his head on Dan's shoulder. Dan swallowed as he seperated their hands so he could wrap his arm around Duck, and Duck smiled at him in the dim light.
"I want to kiss you," Dan said. His whisper sounded much louder than the cowboys on Duck's tiny TV.
"I want that, too," Duck said. He reached out, stroking gently at Dan's jaw, and Dan closed his eyes tight and leaned forward to kiss him.
They kissed for a long time on the couch. It slowly got darker around them; in the back of his mind Dan could hear the movie proceeding through its various plot points. Eventually Dan ended up on his back, pulling Duck down onto him. Sometime after that, they both lost their shirts.
Duck kissed like no one else Dan had ever kissed. Dan wanted Duck more than he could remember wanting anybody -- and that was exciting, and frightening, both at the same time.
"Please," Dan said, taking gulping breaths as Duck unbuttoned his pants, "please, please, please--"
"It's okay," Duck said, running a soothing hand down Dan's shaking stomach. "It's okay, don't worry..."
Dan didn't know if there was ever a time if his life when he wasn't worrying. But Duck held his hand while he sucked Dan's cock into his mouth, and Dan closed his eyes, brushed his other hand through Duck's soft hair, and Duck was right there, right there with him the entire time.
Instead, she wanted Wilby Wonderful fic. Crazy girl.
*****
When Dan woke up this morning, Duck had already left for work. He left a note on the counter in the kitchen and a pot of coffee still going in the kitchen. Dan sat at the table, drinking coffee and eating an orange, staring out the window into Duck's yard. He wandered around the house after breakfast, looking at the knickknacks on the shelves and the pictures on the walls and the furniture in each of the rooms.
Later in the morning he went to the library, across the island. He walked slowly, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face, stopping once in a while to look at the clouds, the trees, the houses, the people. On his way back from the library he set his books on the ground to pick wildflowers off the side of the dead end leading out to Duck's house.
Duck got home in the late afternoon, covered with dirt and sweat. He had brought home some styrofoam containers and a video cassette, and his face broke into a wide smile when he set them down on the table and saw the vase there.
Dan heated up the food in the microwave and set the table while Duck showered. Duck reappeared a few minutes later, in jeans and a different shirt, his towel-dried hair sticking up in every direction. They ate dinner quietly in the kitchen, the ceiling fan whirling above them.
"I got us a movie," Duck said, while they ate. "I don't know if you've seen it before."
"Yeah," said Dan. He'd seen it five times. "It's a good one, though."
"You said you liked Westerns, so I thought..." Duck said, half-shrugging as though it didn't matter. "We could watch it after dinner, if you want."
Dan said, "I'd like that," and Duck smiled again and looked down at his plate.
All the blinds in the living room were shut, trying to keep the house cool, but some of the evening sunlight still came through. They sat on the couch, close enough that their legs pressed together. After a few minutes, Duck picked up Dan's hand, lacing it with his own and resting their hands together on his thigh.
The movie occupied much less of Dan's attention than Duck did. Duck's hand was warm and callused. Dan was overly aware of the rhythm of his own breath and the beating of his heart. He couldn't even pay attention to the plot of the movie, even though presumably it was just the same as every other time.
Duck let out a slow breath, and leaned in further against Dan, not quite resting his head on Dan's shoulder. Dan swallowed as he seperated their hands so he could wrap his arm around Duck, and Duck smiled at him in the dim light.
"I want to kiss you," Dan said. His whisper sounded much louder than the cowboys on Duck's tiny TV.
"I want that, too," Duck said. He reached out, stroking gently at Dan's jaw, and Dan closed his eyes tight and leaned forward to kiss him.
They kissed for a long time on the couch. It slowly got darker around them; in the back of his mind Dan could hear the movie proceeding through its various plot points. Eventually Dan ended up on his back, pulling Duck down onto him. Sometime after that, they both lost their shirts.
Duck kissed like no one else Dan had ever kissed. Dan wanted Duck more than he could remember wanting anybody -- and that was exciting, and frightening, both at the same time.
"Please," Dan said, taking gulping breaths as Duck unbuttoned his pants, "please, please, please--"
"It's okay," Duck said, running a soothing hand down Dan's shaking stomach. "It's okay, don't worry..."
Dan didn't know if there was ever a time if his life when he wasn't worrying. But Duck held his hand while he sucked Dan's cock into his mouth, and Dan closed his eyes, brushed his other hand through Duck's soft hair, and Duck was right there, right there with him the entire time.