Split [PG; Danny/Nicholas]
Title: Split
Author: worblehat
Genre: Hot Fuzz
Pairing: Danny/Nicholas
Rating: PG
Notes: For starfreckled. Because the gay was EVERYWHERE in that movie.
Summary: Ice Cream.
Word Count: 618
"I got one for you," said Danny, taking a seat on his box-covered bed. He was already munching halfway through his own, not paying attention to much else as Nicholas took the offered Cornetto, looking at it with slight disinterest.
He sighed. "Look, I appreciate the thought and all, but the last thing I want right now is a bleedin' Cornetto."
"What's wrong?" asked Danny, shoving the last of the cone into his mouth and biting down cheerfully. "Someone been murdered again?"
"No," Nicholas replied, annoyed. He gave Danny a look. "Anyway, why do you have to ask that with so much glee?"
"I wasn't asking with glee," Danny retorted. "Merely pointin' out what's gone on so far, according to you."
"So you think I'm mad, too?" asked Nicholas, not angry as much as he was curious. He just knew something was going on, even if he felt oddly on-edge: the closest he'd come to feeling wrong in all his life.
Danny was quiet for several seconds. "Sergeant Angel..." he said thoughtfully, his face serious.
"Yeah?" Nicholas wondered at how strained his voice was all of a sudden. Several thoughts panned into his mind; he shoved them away.
"You gonna finish that?" asked Danny, pointing at the Cornetto in Nicholas's hand.
"Yes, I'm fucking well going to finish this," Nicholas answered tersely, ripping open the foil wrapper and biting down with vengeance.
"You don't even like Cornettos," said Danny, pouting.
Nicholas didn't pause to answer, the ice cream settling awkwardly in his stomach, his teeth hurting. Not even halfway through, he gave up, handing the rest to Danny. "Here."
"I thought -"
"I hate these fucking things," said Danny, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.
The only sound for several minutes was of enthusiastic chomping, with a few muffled appreciations of "'sgood." Nicholas wondered at the silence that followed and looked to his left, where Danny was watching him, a blank expression on his face, a smudge of ice cream on his lower lip.
Nicholas became vaguely aware of the heat rising in his cheeks, and frowned. "...Why do you keep staring at me?" he asked.
"You look funny," said Danny.
"Funny?" Nicholas repeated awkwardly. For some reason, in that second, he realised that his knee and Danny's were touching. In fact, so were their thighs as Danny shifted closer.
"Not like a clown funny -" began Danny, explaining.
"Nothing funny about clowns," Nicholas interrupted.
"Right." Danny leaned in. "Come closer a second?"
"What for, so you can -"
Nicholas's eyes widened, his mouth forcefully, question dying on his tongue. Danny's lips were cold against his own. But sweet, he added to himself quietly.
He pulled away, pretending not to notice the amount of time he'd let pass with their mouths touching, or the confused-yet-happy look on Danny's face that made something in his chest tighten. "What'd you do that for?" He'd meant it to sound accusing, angry, horrified; instead it sounded embarrassed, confused and excited.
"Didn't you want to?" asked Danny, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"That's not the point - no, wait, that's not what I meant!" said Nicholas, sputtering. He stood, attempting to wade through the various boxes in Danny's flat, stumbling a few times before making it to the door.
"Where you going?" asked Danny.
"Out."
The door was almost closed before he heard Danny's voice.
"Can I come?"
Nicholas wished he'd hesitated, even a little bit.
"Fine," he said, leaving the door open as he turned to head outside and wait; wondering silently if Danny would still taste like Cornetto in the morning.
Author: worblehat
Genre: Hot Fuzz
Pairing: Danny/Nicholas
Rating: PG
Notes: For starfreckled. Because the gay was EVERYWHERE in that movie.
Summary: Ice Cream.
Word Count: 618
"I got one for you," said Danny, taking a seat on his box-covered bed. He was already munching halfway through his own, not paying attention to much else as Nicholas took the offered Cornetto, looking at it with slight disinterest.
He sighed. "Look, I appreciate the thought and all, but the last thing I want right now is a bleedin' Cornetto."
"What's wrong?" asked Danny, shoving the last of the cone into his mouth and biting down cheerfully. "Someone been murdered again?"
"No," Nicholas replied, annoyed. He gave Danny a look. "Anyway, why do you have to ask that with so much glee?"
"I wasn't asking with glee," Danny retorted. "Merely pointin' out what's gone on so far, according to you."
"So you think I'm mad, too?" asked Nicholas, not angry as much as he was curious. He just knew something was going on, even if he felt oddly on-edge: the closest he'd come to feeling wrong in all his life.
Danny was quiet for several seconds. "Sergeant Angel..." he said thoughtfully, his face serious.
"Yeah?" Nicholas wondered at how strained his voice was all of a sudden. Several thoughts panned into his mind; he shoved them away.
"You gonna finish that?" asked Danny, pointing at the Cornetto in Nicholas's hand.
"Yes, I'm fucking well going to finish this," Nicholas answered tersely, ripping open the foil wrapper and biting down with vengeance.
"You don't even like Cornettos," said Danny, pouting.
Nicholas didn't pause to answer, the ice cream settling awkwardly in his stomach, his teeth hurting. Not even halfway through, he gave up, handing the rest to Danny. "Here."
"I thought -"
"I hate these fucking things," said Danny, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.
The only sound for several minutes was of enthusiastic chomping, with a few muffled appreciations of "'sgood." Nicholas wondered at the silence that followed and looked to his left, where Danny was watching him, a blank expression on his face, a smudge of ice cream on his lower lip.
Nicholas became vaguely aware of the heat rising in his cheeks, and frowned. "...Why do you keep staring at me?" he asked.
"You look funny," said Danny.
"Funny?" Nicholas repeated awkwardly. For some reason, in that second, he realised that his knee and Danny's were touching. In fact, so were their thighs as Danny shifted closer.
"Not like a clown funny -" began Danny, explaining.
"Nothing funny about clowns," Nicholas interrupted.
"Right." Danny leaned in. "Come closer a second?"
"What for, so you can -"
Nicholas's eyes widened, his mouth forcefully, question dying on his tongue. Danny's lips were cold against his own. But sweet, he added to himself quietly.
He pulled away, pretending not to notice the amount of time he'd let pass with their mouths touching, or the confused-yet-happy look on Danny's face that made something in his chest tighten. "What'd you do that for?" He'd meant it to sound accusing, angry, horrified; instead it sounded embarrassed, confused and excited.
"Didn't you want to?" asked Danny, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"That's not the point - no, wait, that's not what I meant!" said Nicholas, sputtering. He stood, attempting to wade through the various boxes in Danny's flat, stumbling a few times before making it to the door.
"Where you going?" asked Danny.
"Out."
The door was almost closed before he heard Danny's voice.
"Can I come?"
Nicholas wished he'd hesitated, even a little bit.
"Fine," he said, leaving the door open as he turned to head outside and wait; wondering silently if Danny would still taste like Cornetto in the morning.