bsi: galvanize
This would be the reason I asked about Flack’s left-handedness.
As I said last night, stellaluna- has invited me to be an official co-writer of the BSI verse: her tag || my tag
title: Galvanize
with: Danny/Flack
rated: NC-17
herein: Danny teaches Flack how to ground
disclaim: I only own the dvds; everything belongs to Zuiker, CBS, et al.
Danny studies Flack’s face in the half-light. His eyes are shut, and his mouth is tense. His jaw flexes.
“Can’t you just teach me some defensive charms or whatever?” Flack asks.
“I could,” Danny says, keeping his voice low. “But you have to know how to ground if they’re going to work.”
“I’m no good at this meditation shit.” Flack breathes deeply.
Danny takes a drag on his cigarette and keeps watching Flack. The lamp highlights the plains of his face and casts angular shadows across the bedroom. They’re sitting up in bed, the sheets half tangled around their waists.
Flack opens his eyes. “It’s not working, Messer.”
Danny sighs and hands Flack the cigarette. “That’s cause you’re trying too hard and you’re not trying hard enough.
“Don’t,” Flack says, voice dry. “Don’t you pull that mystic riddle crap on me too.”
“You’re thinking too hard.” Danny turns toward Flack. A streetlight gleaming through the curtain catches the corner of his eye, and Danny has to look at it straight on for a moment, just to make sure. He shakes his head. “If it’s going to work you don’t think about doing it, you do it. You don’t give yourself time to second guess.”
“That’s real helpful.” Flack makes a face. “Thanks.”
Danny grins at the sarcasm. “Okay. Give me the cigarette and get up.” He reaches for the smoke, but Flack groans and starts to slink under the covers.
“You know, I don’t have to help you out with this,” Danny says.
“Okay, okay.” Flack climbs out of bed and starts hunting around the floor for his underwear.
“There is no try, only do,” Danny says and makes an effort not to be obvious as he checks out Flack’s ass.
“I know you didn’t just quote Star Wars to me.”
“Use the force, Flack.”
Flack grabs a pillow from the bed and smacks Danny with it. Danny puts his arm up to block it, almost drops the cigarette, but laughs. It’s late, past one in the morning, and he feels a little punchy.
“Okay, what do I do smartass?” Flack stands at the foot of the bed in his underwear. His eyes are uncertain. The lamp casts half his face into light shadow.
“Close your eyes and listen to me,” Danny says. “Take a deep breath and relax. Relax your jaw, relax your shoulders. Just think about breathing in and out for a minute.” Danny squints his eyes, trying to get a read on Flack’s aura to see if it’s working, but he doesn’t really have enough residual talent for that. He can see Flack’s body loosen though, the tension finally falling from his shoulders.
“Okay.” Danny takes a deep breath. When he speaks, it’s measured and low. “Keep paying attention to your breath, but I also want you to imagine energy buzzing in a sphere around you. Not in you or through you, just all the molecules of air bouncing and swirling.” Danny pauses and takes a last drag off the cigarette, trying to quell the fluttery feeling in his stomach. “Now I’m going to count backwards from ten, and when I get to one, all of that energy is going to snap into a bright string that runs down into the ground, up through your feet, through the top of your head, and into the sky. Okay?”
Danny counts, and when he reaches one Flack gives a startled little gasp.
“That worked,” Flack says.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” Flack takes a deep breath, almost a gasp. “I can feel it.”
“Good. You just sit there and get used to feeling it for a minute.” The room is quiet. Danny licks his lips and looks at Flack unguarded, traces the curve of Flack’s shoulders and slack mouth. “All right, now you want to reel the string in, bring your personal energy back into yourself.”
“Okay.” Flack takes a deeper breath and blows it out through pursed lips. “Okay.”
“I’m going to count ten again, and you’re going to come back into the room slowly.” Danny counts, and Flack shifts his weight, stretching a little. He opens his eyes at one and grins full force.
“That was cool,” Flack says.
“Yeah?” Danny can’t help grinning back. “When you can do that without closing your eyes and counting ten, I’ll teach you how to do some charms.”
Flack bounces on the balls of his feet, still grinning, then his face seems to crash. “Um. I don’t feel right.” He snaps his fingers a few times.
“It’s like teaching a toddler how to do calligraphy.” Danny rubs his face. “You must’ve gone real deep and brought too much energy back into yourself.”
“Yeah.” Flack looks around the room, bouncing again. “Fix it?”
“Come sit on the bed.” Danny leans forward. Flack climbs on the bed, sits crosslegged in front of Danny, and starts tapping out a rhythm on his knee. “You’re left-handed, right?” Danny asks.
Flack nods. “Left, right.” He smirks, but his eyes are big.
“Just give me your hand.” Danny grabs Flack’s left hand and positions it between them, palm flat and facing out. Then he raises his own left hand, palm out, and holds it about an inch in front of Flack’s. Flack’s twitching in place, eyes still big, and Danny lets his mind go blank as he grounds. “You’re left handed, so you send energy with your left and receive it with your right. It’s the opposite for me. Now. You breathe, try to relax, and imagine the extra energy bleeding into me.”
Danny closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. The energy sparks up his arm and settles in his chest faster than he can shuffle it all off into the world around them. “Jesus,” he murmurs, shivering. Flack’s got all the finesse of a sledgehammer, and he’s startlingly strong. Danny’s skin prickles, hair standing on end, and a wave of desire wells up inside of him. Heat pools lower in his body, and he takes another shaky breath before bringing their palms together and letting the transfer fall apart. Flack threads their fingers together. Danny opens his eyes, and Flack is staring into his face.
Flack’s right hand comes up and drags Danny forward into an open-mouthed kiss. Danny nips at Flack’s lower lip, then licks his way into Flack’s mouth. Flack makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and shoves Danny back into the bed. They let go of each other’s hand, and Danny frames Flack’s face, stroking a thumb along his stubbled jaw.
Flack bites and sucks his way along Danny’s neck, grinding down through the thin layers of the sheet and his underwear. Danny moans roughly and slides his hands down to squeeze Flack’s ass.
“Off, off.” Danny tugs at Flack’s underwear and pulls the sheet between them out of the way, then it’s skin on skin, the hard play of Flack’s muscles against his own, the heat of their cocks together.
“Fuck, yes,” Flack groans, burying his face in the crook of Danny’s neck, mouthing the skin there. His fingers are bruising on Danny’s hips, pulling them closer together. Danny digs his fingers into the muscles of Flack’s back and plants his feet on the bed, so he can better thrust up.
If there were any chance they’d last, Danny would get Flack to slow down and they’d fuck. If they were going to last, Danny would want Flack to fuck him so hard they’d both feel it in the morning. But they’re not going to last, straining against each other, the hot slide of flesh and the knife-edge still sparking between them. Danny realizes it almost too late. The pleasure builds between them, echoing back and forth; the connection is still open just a crack. He bites down on Flack’s shoulder, then Flack’s mouth finds his own, a clash of teeth and tongue.
A few more thrusts, and they’re both there, coming at almost the same time, a slick mess between them. Flack collapses half on Danny for a moment, and Danny wraps an arm around the small of Flack’s back. Danny closes his eyes, and he can see them tangled together on the bed, a white light surrounded by the cool depth of night. Flack rolls away, onto his back, but Danny rolls with him. He wipes their stomach with the corner of the sheet, then settles against Flack’s side. Flack stretches and leans into Danny.
Danny’s heartbeat is suddenly too loud in his ears. He skims his palm up along Flack’s chest, feeling the heat still buzzing between them, and wonders if the connection will completely fall apart by morning. It should.
“We going to do that again sometime?” Flack asks.
Danny’s not entirely sure which ‘that’ Flack’s talking about, but he nods his head. “Yeah, we probably are.”
As I said last night, stellaluna- has invited me to be an official co-writer of the BSI verse: her tag || my tag
title: Galvanize
with: Danny/Flack
rated: NC-17
herein: Danny teaches Flack how to ground
disclaim: I only own the dvds; everything belongs to Zuiker, CBS, et al.
Danny studies Flack’s face in the half-light. His eyes are shut, and his mouth is tense. His jaw flexes.
“Can’t you just teach me some defensive charms or whatever?” Flack asks.
“I could,” Danny says, keeping his voice low. “But you have to know how to ground if they’re going to work.”
“I’m no good at this meditation shit.” Flack breathes deeply.
Danny takes a drag on his cigarette and keeps watching Flack. The lamp highlights the plains of his face and casts angular shadows across the bedroom. They’re sitting up in bed, the sheets half tangled around their waists.
Flack opens his eyes. “It’s not working, Messer.”
Danny sighs and hands Flack the cigarette. “That’s cause you’re trying too hard and you’re not trying hard enough.
“Don’t,” Flack says, voice dry. “Don’t you pull that mystic riddle crap on me too.”
“You’re thinking too hard.” Danny turns toward Flack. A streetlight gleaming through the curtain catches the corner of his eye, and Danny has to look at it straight on for a moment, just to make sure. He shakes his head. “If it’s going to work you don’t think about doing it, you do it. You don’t give yourself time to second guess.”
“That’s real helpful.” Flack makes a face. “Thanks.”
Danny grins at the sarcasm. “Okay. Give me the cigarette and get up.” He reaches for the smoke, but Flack groans and starts to slink under the covers.
“You know, I don’t have to help you out with this,” Danny says.
“Okay, okay.” Flack climbs out of bed and starts hunting around the floor for his underwear.
“There is no try, only do,” Danny says and makes an effort not to be obvious as he checks out Flack’s ass.
“I know you didn’t just quote Star Wars to me.”
“Use the force, Flack.”
Flack grabs a pillow from the bed and smacks Danny with it. Danny puts his arm up to block it, almost drops the cigarette, but laughs. It’s late, past one in the morning, and he feels a little punchy.
“Okay, what do I do smartass?” Flack stands at the foot of the bed in his underwear. His eyes are uncertain. The lamp casts half his face into light shadow.
“Close your eyes and listen to me,” Danny says. “Take a deep breath and relax. Relax your jaw, relax your shoulders. Just think about breathing in and out for a minute.” Danny squints his eyes, trying to get a read on Flack’s aura to see if it’s working, but he doesn’t really have enough residual talent for that. He can see Flack’s body loosen though, the tension finally falling from his shoulders.
“Okay.” Danny takes a deep breath. When he speaks, it’s measured and low. “Keep paying attention to your breath, but I also want you to imagine energy buzzing in a sphere around you. Not in you or through you, just all the molecules of air bouncing and swirling.” Danny pauses and takes a last drag off the cigarette, trying to quell the fluttery feeling in his stomach. “Now I’m going to count backwards from ten, and when I get to one, all of that energy is going to snap into a bright string that runs down into the ground, up through your feet, through the top of your head, and into the sky. Okay?”
Danny counts, and when he reaches one Flack gives a startled little gasp.
“That worked,” Flack says.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” Flack takes a deep breath, almost a gasp. “I can feel it.”
“Good. You just sit there and get used to feeling it for a minute.” The room is quiet. Danny licks his lips and looks at Flack unguarded, traces the curve of Flack’s shoulders and slack mouth. “All right, now you want to reel the string in, bring your personal energy back into yourself.”
“Okay.” Flack takes a deeper breath and blows it out through pursed lips. “Okay.”
“I’m going to count ten again, and you’re going to come back into the room slowly.” Danny counts, and Flack shifts his weight, stretching a little. He opens his eyes at one and grins full force.
“That was cool,” Flack says.
“Yeah?” Danny can’t help grinning back. “When you can do that without closing your eyes and counting ten, I’ll teach you how to do some charms.”
Flack bounces on the balls of his feet, still grinning, then his face seems to crash. “Um. I don’t feel right.” He snaps his fingers a few times.
“It’s like teaching a toddler how to do calligraphy.” Danny rubs his face. “You must’ve gone real deep and brought too much energy back into yourself.”
“Yeah.” Flack looks around the room, bouncing again. “Fix it?”
“Come sit on the bed.” Danny leans forward. Flack climbs on the bed, sits crosslegged in front of Danny, and starts tapping out a rhythm on his knee. “You’re left-handed, right?” Danny asks.
Flack nods. “Left, right.” He smirks, but his eyes are big.
“Just give me your hand.” Danny grabs Flack’s left hand and positions it between them, palm flat and facing out. Then he raises his own left hand, palm out, and holds it about an inch in front of Flack’s. Flack’s twitching in place, eyes still big, and Danny lets his mind go blank as he grounds. “You’re left handed, so you send energy with your left and receive it with your right. It’s the opposite for me. Now. You breathe, try to relax, and imagine the extra energy bleeding into me.”
Danny closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. The energy sparks up his arm and settles in his chest faster than he can shuffle it all off into the world around them. “Jesus,” he murmurs, shivering. Flack’s got all the finesse of a sledgehammer, and he’s startlingly strong. Danny’s skin prickles, hair standing on end, and a wave of desire wells up inside of him. Heat pools lower in his body, and he takes another shaky breath before bringing their palms together and letting the transfer fall apart. Flack threads their fingers together. Danny opens his eyes, and Flack is staring into his face.
Flack’s right hand comes up and drags Danny forward into an open-mouthed kiss. Danny nips at Flack’s lower lip, then licks his way into Flack’s mouth. Flack makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and shoves Danny back into the bed. They let go of each other’s hand, and Danny frames Flack’s face, stroking a thumb along his stubbled jaw.
Flack bites and sucks his way along Danny’s neck, grinding down through the thin layers of the sheet and his underwear. Danny moans roughly and slides his hands down to squeeze Flack’s ass.
“Off, off.” Danny tugs at Flack’s underwear and pulls the sheet between them out of the way, then it’s skin on skin, the hard play of Flack’s muscles against his own, the heat of their cocks together.
“Fuck, yes,” Flack groans, burying his face in the crook of Danny’s neck, mouthing the skin there. His fingers are bruising on Danny’s hips, pulling them closer together. Danny digs his fingers into the muscles of Flack’s back and plants his feet on the bed, so he can better thrust up.
If there were any chance they’d last, Danny would get Flack to slow down and they’d fuck. If they were going to last, Danny would want Flack to fuck him so hard they’d both feel it in the morning. But they’re not going to last, straining against each other, the hot slide of flesh and the knife-edge still sparking between them. Danny realizes it almost too late. The pleasure builds between them, echoing back and forth; the connection is still open just a crack. He bites down on Flack’s shoulder, then Flack’s mouth finds his own, a clash of teeth and tongue.
A few more thrusts, and they’re both there, coming at almost the same time, a slick mess between them. Flack collapses half on Danny for a moment, and Danny wraps an arm around the small of Flack’s back. Danny closes his eyes, and he can see them tangled together on the bed, a white light surrounded by the cool depth of night. Flack rolls away, onto his back, but Danny rolls with him. He wipes their stomach with the corner of the sheet, then settles against Flack’s side. Flack stretches and leans into Danny.
Danny’s heartbeat is suddenly too loud in his ears. He skims his palm up along Flack’s chest, feeling the heat still buzzing between them, and wonders if the connection will completely fall apart by morning. It should.
“We going to do that again sometime?” Flack asks.
Danny’s not entirely sure which ‘that’ Flack’s talking about, but he nods his head. “Yeah, we probably are.”