Follow-up snippet to "Maybe"
Second in an open-ended and slightly AU version of Without a Trace Martin/Danny snippets. Martin has some ideas of his own...
The rating is for nudity and language. No actual sex yet, still in the preliminary stages of courtship.
The Morning After
Danny was lying in bed. This was perfectly normal, considering it was well before his preferred wake-up time when he didn't have to get to the office. What wasn't perfectly normal was Martin's body spooned against his. What the hell did we do last night? Martin had a pair of dark green silk boxers on, but he was completely naked. Shit, I hope I didn't just have sex with Martin that I can't even remember.
He decided playing possum was the best course of action when he felt Martin stretch and carefully edge away from him and out of bed.
A few minutes later, he smelled coffee brewing. A few minutes after that, he opened his eyes to a breakfast tray with two mismatched coffee mugs, a bottle of ibuprofen, and two tall glasses of water when Martin said quietly, "Fitzgerald day-after goodies. Get that down, and I'll fix pancakes if you think your stomach will handle it. And because I know you well enough to know you're wondering, nothing happened unless you count you throwing up on your clothes. But now that I know you want something to happen, it can be arranged."
"Oh, shit. What the hell did I say or do? Should I apologize?" Danny was grateful he'd seen and done entirely too much to blush any more. He'd obviously done something to give himself away. He knew he hadn't drunk anything alcoholic--falling off the wagon hadn't been the objective here. So what had happened? Fuck, I bet it was those damn painkillers. I knew I should have stuck to aspirin, but that headache wouldn't go away until I dug out the high-octane meds.
"Told me to forget about Jack and give someone else a chance after about the second set. And the way you were looking at me made it obvious who you wanted that 'someone else' to be."
"Was it the same way you're looking at me right now? Like I'm dessert or something?" Danny asked.
"More like you wanted to lay me out on a convenient flat surface and lick dessert off me, but yeah." Martin smiled. Danny just hoped his body's instant reaction to the imagery wasn't too obvious. "And like I said, that can be arranged. But I warn you-just because you're in my bed naked doesn't mean I'm easy. I expect a courtship if you're serious about 'arranging something'. And you better be serious, period. I'm not getting into a fling or being fuckbuddies with someone I work with."
"I can deal with that. How about dinner at Paloma Blanca tomorrow if we actually make it out of the office at a reasonable time for a start?" Danny offered.
"Deal. Enchiladas, Mexican Coca-Cola and sopapillos sound like a fine beginning. Do you want pancakes with orange sauce now, though? Because I get hungry when I'm hung over, and I was planning on making enough to feed you too if you wanted some. And you can borrow some clothes of mine when you're ready to get out of bed--yours are pretty wrecked."
"I could go for some pancakes right now."
"Breakfast in bed coming right up," Martin teased.
"Can I kiss the cook?" Danny asked when a plate of pancakes covered with orange sauce and a glass of what looked to be fresh-squeezed orange juice were added to the contents of the tray.
"Sure, after you finish and brush your teeth. And put some clothes on--reduce the temptation," Martin added.
Actually, Martin kissed him once Danny'd finished two pancakes, half the orange juice, brushed his teeth and put on a T-shirt and pair of jeans. Just a quick, teasing hint of a kiss with barely any tongue involved, and both men still felt a little dazed afterwards. A daze that they were snapped out of all too quickly when Martin's phone rang, calling them in on their day off.