Fic: Regular Like Seasons (WAT, Danny/Martin, NC17)
Okay, so technically I did not get right to work on this when I was done messing around with icons. First I had to stop and make an Italian cream cake of which I will not be eating any, since it is a) very much not low-carb, and b) for a work birthday party at my dad's office.
However. The fic is complete, and it is so, so different than I originally intended it to be. A little history:
This whole thing started because writingpathways made an offhand joke about Danny's scary facial hair. Then somebody (it might have been me) suggested that someone should write shaving fic. At some point carleton97 got on the bandwagon, but she's too busy with her NaNo project to write shaving fic, and since writingpathways doesn't do smut or Danny/Martin, that left me. It was just going to be a short little shaving piece and then I'd get back to my eight thousand other projects, but two days and eight pages later and I'm not really sure I've come up with anything even resembling what was originally discussed.
There is shaving and there's smut, but you know me...every time I set out to write something it turns into this big characterization nightmare, and there's always, always angst. Even my fluff is angsty. It's a disease.
But hey, it's done, so who cares. I wrote something from start to finish and it's longer than two pages! I feel I have a right to be excited about this after the past couple weeks. So. NC17 (though not as porntastic as I intended), sort of post-"Our Sons and Daughters", although the only spoiler is the facial hair. Hope it doesn't suck too much.
He was staring. He knew he was staring; he'd been doing it all day, and hours later he still couldn't help himself.
Danny knew he was staring too. He wasn't looking back, but every so often he'd smile that little smile that let Martin know he knew -- knew exactly what Martin was thinking, and it was enough to keep Martin half-hard all day long.
He felt like a teenager. He was acting like a teenager, and it was all Danny's fault for being so...Danny. Martin knew he liked the attention; it was obvious in the way he walked, the way he moved his hips in that way that was guaranteed to catch Martin's eye. It was in the way he swayed into Martin's personal space whenever they spoke, in that little smirk that lit up his features whenever he felt Martin's eyes on him.
For a long time Martin thought Danny didn't care who was looking. He assumed Danny just liked the attention, that it didn't matter if it was Martin or Sam or random strangers on the street, as long as he was the center of their world for just a minute or two. It was partly true; Danny did have a way of drawing attention to himself, and it couldn't all be accidental. But Martin knew now that Danny liked some kinds of attention better than others, and he liked it most of all when it was Martin's eyes on him.
Martin didn't bother trying not to stare when they finally reached his building and Danny climbed the stairs ahead of him. He'd been positive throughout their long, endless workday that this moment was never going to come, but now that they were finally out of the office and on their way to his place he could look all he wanted. He didn't have to worry about Jack or Sam or Vivian noticing, he didn't have to worry that he'd missed crucial bits of information because he was too busy thinking about licking Danny's neck to listen to the witnesses they'd spent the whole day interviewing.
And maybe he should ask Jack not to pair him with Danny anymore, because it was really starting to affect his job performance.
But now wasn't a good time to be thinking about Jack or work or anything, really, because his apartment door was open and Danny was tugging him inside, then his back hit the wall and he didn't even remember getting his keys out. It didn't matter, though, because Danny's mouth was already on his and his cheek rubbed against Martin's skin, rough and coarse and Martin didn't care that it was going to leave a mark.
His hands worked under Danny's jacket, grasping at the heat trapped between layers of expensive fabric. And he loved this, loved those moments of anticipation right before they started tearing off clothes in a desperate rush to get off as quickly as possible. Later, once the urgency passed, there would be slow, lazy sex, sprinkled with laughter and Danny's idea of humor. That was Martin's favorite part of all, because those were the moments he could pretend this was something other than two guys with no lives taking advantage of what was available.
He pushed that thought to the back of his mind when Danny's mouth pressed against his neck, hot breath and wet kisses against his skin and sending shivers down his spine. His fingers clenched around Danny's shirt, tugging blindly until finally his hands found skin. A familiar urgency kicked in and he wondered suddenly if he was the one who was always in a hurry, because he'd been blaming Danny for a long time and wouldn't it just figure that he was the one would couldn't slow down.
"Did Jack say anything about your new look?" he asked, deliberately forcing his mind away from the smooth heat of Danny's skin. He tilted his head to catch the edge of Danny's cheek against his own, swallowing a shudder at the scratch of stubble.
"No, but Viv did." Danny chuckled against his neck, hot and low and Martin had to fight hard not to resist when Danny pulled away to run a hand over his chin. "Guess I better take care of that before he does."
"You...uh...you want some help with that?" And he was not going to blush, because no matter how much he felt like a teenager, he hadn't been one for a long time.
"You offering to help me shave?"
Martin shrugged because they both already knew the answer, and he wasn't about to embarrass himself by trying to take it back now that it was already out there. It wasn't something he'd thought about before now, but he had to admit -- at least to himself -- that there was something appealing about the idea of Danny all lathered up and at his mercy.
Then Danny smirked and Martin knew he was blushing after all, but it didn't matter when hands closed around the front of his jacket to pull him away from the door and down the hall. Less than a minute later he was up against a wall again, in the bathroom this time and Danny's mouth on his as he pushed Martin's jacket off his shoulders. Something told him Danny had more than a quick shave in mind.
Danny's hands were everywhere, expertly stripping his clothes off without ever relinquishing Martin's mouth. And he was good at this, good enough that Martin had been a little intimidated at first. Now that he was used to it he kind of enjoyed the attention, because Danny always let his hands linger in all the right places.
Danny's fingers sliding along his collarbones, just the tips applying just the right amount of pressure as he slid Martin's shirt off. Danny's mouth on his neck as his hands moved lower, working open Martin's expensive, complicated suit pants with an expert touch. Danny's hands knew all the places on Martin that left him panting, biting down hard on the urge to beg for more, for his hands to dip just a little bit lower and then finally, when Martin thought he couldn't stand it anymore, Danny's hands right...there.
One day, when they were both exhausted from long, sleepless hours of working a particularly rough case, Martin knew he was going to come right in Danny's hand before they even got all his clothes off. He had a feeling Danny was waiting for that day.
But despite the hours Martin had spent thinking about this moment, he managed to retain just enough control to keep from embarrassing himself. And Danny always knew just when to let go, when to leave Martin hard and breathless and desperate while he carefully removed the rest of Martin's clothes, right down to sensible shoes and socks. Martin let himself be stripped, and when he was naked and leaning hard against the wall for support he forced his eyes open to watch the show.
Danny methodically undressing himself was a sight Martin would never tire of. Part of him wanted to reach out and help, and sometimes he did, speeding the process along until they were skin to skin. This time he forced himself not to touch, fingers curled against his palms hard enough to leave little half moon marks in his skin. He watched as Danny slowly slid his jacket off and hung it on the hook behind the door, then reached up and tugged his tie loose before he pulled it off.
Flash of red silk around his wrists, and Martin's cock twitched almost painfully at the image. His whole body flushed when Danny's gaze strayed down to his erection, then back up to Martin's face as he moved forward to plant his hands on the wall on either side of Martin's shoulders. Martin opened his mouth to say something, anything to get Danny to hurry up; he still had no idea what Danny had in mind, but it didn't matter if Danny wanted to fuck him up against this very wall. All Martin wanted was for him to do something, but before he could embarrass himself by begging Danny's mouth was pressed against his.
Danny's whole body pressed against him, silk sliding against his chest and the slight roughness of wool rubbing against his cock. Martin moaned into Danny's mouth and thrust forward, his blush even darker as he realized how close he was to coming all over Danny's clothes. There was nothing he could do about it, though, not with Danny pressed up against him and Danny's tongue fucking his mouth like he'd been thinking about it all day.
All Martin had to do was think about that tongue in other places, working him open so Danny could slide inside, and he knew he was going to lose it before they ever made it to wherever Danny was taking them. And that was another thing; Danny always left him feeling out of control, and Martin always let him. He didn't have to, but there was a part of him that liked letting Danny take over, even if it was just while they were behind closed doors.
Those kinds of thoughts worried him when he was out in the light of day, working a case where the slightest loss of control could lose him a suspect or a witness or even the case itself. This wasn't the real world, though; this was just him and Danny, like a dream that he knew was too good to last forever. Someday he'd wake up and this would all be gone, but for now he was going to hold on to it with everything he had.
"Shower first," Danny murmured when his mouth finally left Martin's, that ever-present smirk sliding flawlessly back into place. "Then shave."
Sometimes Martin wanted to smack that smirk right off Danny's face, usually when they were at work and Danny was acting even more cocky than usual. Other times all Danny had to do was smile that way and Martin forgot everything -- where he was, what they were supposed to be doing, sometimes even his own name -- and all he could think about was getting Danny alone and kissing him until they were both breathless. Then there were times like this, when that smirk left Martin's stomach fluttering and his heart racing way too fast, and he knew he was in more danger than he ever faced on the job.
He distracted himself with the shower controls, fighting the fog that had settled over his brain long enough to remember how to turn the water on. By the time the room began to fill with steam Danny had stripped completely; Martin took a long moment to admire all that golden skin before he reached for Danny again, pulling him under the hot spray. The tiles were cool against Martin's back when Danny pressed him up against the wall for the third time, blocking most of the spray as he claimed Martin's mouth again.
He'd known since the first moment he saw Danny that he was a hell of a kisser; it was one of the first things that came to mind the first time Danny grinned and shook his hand, then made a crack about how Martin got the job in Missing Persons. The insult had stung a little, but that voice and that mouth had been more than enough to soften the blow. And he hated himself for falling so easily for Danny's charm, but it was way too late to turn back now.
There was no way he could give up Danny's mouth now that he knew what it felt like against his skin, sucking at his neck and then down the center of his chest, torturing Martin's nipple before he moved further down, sinking to his knees on the shower floor. Martin shuddered and arched against the wall, fingers sliding through wet hair as Danny's tongue dipped into his belly button. And this...this was how he'd developed an addiction to Danny in the first place, because the first time he'd seen Danny on his knees Martin knew he'd never get enough.
He wasn't sentimental or naïve enough to have thoughts about worship, but he'd seen Danny in church and it was hard not to wonder if Danny ever thought those things. He wanted to laugh at the idea that Danny would ever feel that way about him, because he knew what this was, he knew exactly what kind of arrangement they had. They'd never talked about it, but Martin was an adult and he was intelligent enough to read between the lines.
He stopped thinking about laughing when Danny turned his head and ran his cheek along the length of Martin's cock. He stopped thinking at all when Danny did it again, and maybe he was going to miss that beard a little after all.
Danny's tongue dipped into the crease at the top of Martin's thigh, sending a fresh shudder down his spine. His knees wanted to give so he locked them in place, hoping to a God he'd never had much use for that if he was going to fall, he'd at least hold out until after he came. He knew what Danny would say if he could hear Martin praying about sex, and this time he did laugh. The sound was high and harsh and his whole body shook with it, but instead of stopping to ask what was so funny Danny pressed a kiss to the inside of Martin's thigh, hands sliding over his ass to urge his legs further apart.
A gasp escaped Martin's throat and he arched even harder against the tiles, his whole body tense with anticipation. And still Danny was teasing him, his mouth on the soft skin inside Martin's thigh and his fingers ghosting over Martin's ass so softly that Martin was almost sure he was imagining them. His hands left Danny's hair to flatten against the shower wall, searching in vain for purchase against the slick tile. He knew he couldn't take much more and when he heard himself choke out a barely intelligible 'please' he couldn't even bring himself to be ashamed of begging.
Evidently that was what Danny had been waiting for, because as soon as the single syllable escaped Martin's throat Danny's mouth closed around him, and Martin moaned and fought with every scrap of control left in him to keep from bucking forward. He closed his eyes and focused on the rhythm of Danny's mouth and the water beating against his skin until they were inseparable in his mind, every inch of his skin responding to Danny as he swallowed around Martin.
A surprised grunt when a finger slid inside him, and he pushed back against it and just...opened for Danny, silently begging for whatever Danny wanted to give. Danny laughed around his cock, the sound vibrating through Martin's whole body. And he knew he wouldn't last much longer, but he fought with everything in him to hold on for as long as possible, to hold on to that intensity until he was screaming with the effort. Then he was screaming, Danny's name mixed in with a jumble of nonsense words as he came down the other man's throat, his knees trembling with the intensity of his orgasm.
When he came back to himself he was still on his feet, his back pressed flat against the tiles and the weight of Danny's body holding him up. He could feel Danny's cock pressing insistently against his stomach, Danny's breath hot against his neck and Danny's hands on whatever skin he could reach. Martin lifted a boneless arm and ran his hand across Danny's ass, but before he got any further Danny pulled back to look at him.
"Later," he said, then he grinned and before Martin could ask what exactly Danny was waiting for the other man kissed him. Hard. And he kept on kissing Martin, right past breathless and into that space where Martin decided that he didn't really need to breathe after all as long as Danny kept kissing him forever. Just like this, bodies pressed tight together like they were made for each other, Danny's beard coarse against his chin and Martin knew his skin was going to peel in the morning.
When Danny did finally pull away he reached for the soap, washing them both with as much careful attention as he always paid to their clothes. Then he turned the water off and dried them both off, draping a towel carelessly around his hips and hoisting himself onto Martin's counter. Just like that, like he hadn't just sucked Martin off so skillfully that only Danny's weight kept him from hitting the floor. Like he wasn't still hard under that towel -- Martin's towel, and if he wasn't a practical, intelligent adult Martin might catch himself having ridiculous, juvenile thoughts about never washing that towel again.
He grinned at the thought and tied his towel around his own waist, carefully ignoring Danny while he dug in his medicine cabinet for shaving cream and a razor. He could feel the weight of Danny's gaze on him, heavy and warm like the sun on the first real spring day after a long winter. It felt good, and for the first time he could sort of understand why Danny liked it when people looked.
He set the razor down on the counter and turned on the sink, filling it with hot water and soaking a washcloth before he turned his attention back to Danny. He took his time running the washcloth over the other man's face; Danny's skin was probably already soft enough from the shower, but Martin liked having an excuse just to touch him like this.
Danny was always stealing little touches, in the office or out in the field, sometimes in Martin's kitchen on the mornings they woke up together. Martin tried to tell himself they didn't really mean anything; Danny was just a tactile person, and Martin happened to be convenient. But it was hard to believe that when he was standing between Danny's legs, their breath mingling and Danny's skin under Martin's fingers.
"You have a lot of practice at this?" Danny asked, his expression bemused as he watched Martin spray shaving cream into his hand.
Martin smiled self-consciously and looked up, keeping his focus carefully trained on Danny's cheeks so he wouldn't have to meet the other man's gaze. "On someone other than me? Not really."
Danny was silent while Martin covered the beginnings of a beard with shaving cream, taking a few seconds to make sure he hadn't missed a spot before he rinsed his hand and then picked up the razor. And it was weird doing this when he knew how hard Danny was; he could almost imagine that he could feel the heat radiating off Danny's groin, that he could feel the tension in Danny's body from his struggle to hold onto his control. It was a weird game, but if it meant Martin got to touch as much as he wanted he'd go along with it.
"You trust me?" he asked, grinning as he held up the razor. He was only half-joking, though, and when Danny smiled back and gripped Martin's hips to pull him even closer Martin's breath caught in his throat.
"Course I do, Fitzie. We're partners, aren't we?"
"Yeah," Martin answered, thankful suddenly for the task that kept him from meeting Danny's gaze. Shaving someone else required concentration, and at the moment Martin was grateful for the distraction. He didn't want to think about what they were to each other, what they were doing or what exactly Danny meant by 'partners'. He didn't want to be that guy, the one who needed reassurance and definitions and commitments. But it was hard not to want...he wanted everything Danny was willing to give, and it was even harder not to know what it was Danny was giving.
The first stroke of metal against skin made them both shiver, and Martin pressed a little closer and used his free hand to tilt Danny's head before he pressed the razor to his skin again. And he didn't spend a lot of time thinking about Danny's skin, but when his cock stirred he wasn't surprised to find that he could add another kink to his list of Danny-related obsessions.
"I never figured you for the kinky type," Danny said, and Martin flushed and looked up at the sudden accusation. He knew Danny couldn't have read his mind, but it was still a little spooky to hear his thoughts echoed in Danny's voice.
"I wouldn't go that far," he answered, pushing Danny's chin up so he could run the razor along the other man's jaw line.
"I bet there are a lot of places you'd go if you let yourself." Martin could hear the amusement in Danny's voice, but he managed to stifle the grin that threatened to surface. "So did your old man teach you to do this?"
"My father?" Martin echoed, pulling away long enough to rinse the razor before he looked up at Danny. "He didn't exactly have time between fundraisers and politicking." He heard the bitter edge creep into his voice, but he clamped down hard on it and focused on Danny's chin again. "Until I left D.C. I'd been going to the same barber almost all my life. He used to say there was nobody better to learn from than a professional."
"Guess so." Danny smirked and this time Martin didn't bother to fight the urge to smile. "So how come you're not using a straight razor?"
Martin rolled his eyes and pulled the razor away from Danny's skin long enough to look at him. "You're just lucky I'm not. If you talked this much while there was a straight razor at your throat you'd shut up pretty quick."
His mouth formed a shocked 'o' and Martin knew Danny was making fun of him, but he just shook his head and leaned over to rinse the razor again. A hand ghosted across his shoulder as he straightened up, and Martin's stomach did a weird little flip at the easy familiarity of the touch. It was a strange scene, and there was a small part of his brain that couldn't help thinking about how this would look from the outside. Anyone who saw them like this would think they were a lot more than just a convenience, just someone who understood just how demanding a federal agent's schedule could be.
Martin knew that was the only reason they'd ended up in bed together, but he didn't have the strength to put an end to it. After all, they both had the same problem; work demanded almost all their time, and it wasn't easy to keep a relationship going when they were sometimes on a case for days without more than a few hours' sleep in one of the conference rooms at the office. So Martin fit easily into Danny's life and vice versa; it didn't mean they didn't have a good time together, and so far it hadn't interfered with their working relationship. Most of the time he didn't even think about it, but every once in awhile he couldn't help wondering what would happen when one of them met someone else.
When he finally finished he rinsed the razor again and then reached for the washcloth, carefully wiping away the remnants of shaving cream before he let Danny pull him forward. Danny kissed him again, insistent and possessive and Martin's cock twitched in response. His hands left Danny's waist to tug at the knot in the front of his towel, and when he finally closed his fingers around Danny's cock Danny gasped against his mouth.
Almost instantly Danny was completely hard again, his cock hot against Martin's palm and his hips moving in time to Martin's strokes. Martin knew if they didn't stop that soon Danny wouldn't be able to; he'd held off for a long time, and part of Martin wanted to pull Danny off the counter and back to the bedroom so Danny could fuck him. But there was another part of him that liked the image of Danny on his bathroom counter, legs spread wide and his whole body pressing up into Martin's grip.
He tore his mouth away from Danny's, watching as Danny's back arched and his head dropped back. His hands were pressed flat against the counter, elbows locked and Martin had a feeling that was going to hurt later, but he didn't want to stop long enough even to get Danny to relax. He didn't want to stop at all; he wanted to keep going until Danny lost the last shreds of his control.
"Come on," he heard himself say, and God, he sounded like a bad porn now, but Danny didn't seem to notice. He couldn't see Martin's blush with his eyes closed, and when he murmured 'fuck' and tensed in Martin's grip Martin forgot to be embarrassed. The sight of Danny shuddering through his orgasm was worth any embarrassment Martin had to suffer, and he didn't even think about it before he lifted come-slick fingers to his mouth.
Danny's mouth was open, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe as he forced his eyes open to watch Martin suck his fingers clean. Somehow Martin managed to hold Danny's gaze, and when he was finally done he reached for the washcloth again and carefully cleaned Danny's stomach.
"I should let my beard grow out more often," Danny said, and Martin couldn't help it...he had to laugh at the self-satisfied expression on Danny's face. There wasn't even any point in arguing with Danny's opinion of his own irresistibility, because Martin knew he'd never get Danny to buy that Martin could just walk away from this.
"I can give you the number for my barber," Martin answered, leaning forward to brush his lips across the newly-smooth skin of Danny's cheek. "Tell him I sent you, he'll give you a discount."
"Thanks, I've already got a guy," Danny said, his breath hot against Martin's ear. "Does it just the way I like it."
And Martin knew it was a joke, but his heart still skipped a beat when Danny's words sank in. He pulled back just a little, expecting to find humor in Danny's eyes. Only Danny wasn't laughing, and suddenly Martin couldn't be sure he didn't mean anything by all the little casual remarks he tossed around.
"Are you asking for a regular appointment?" Martin asked, forcing what he hoped was a casual grin. "Because I'll have to check my schedule."
"Why? You got other people on your schedule, Fitzgerald?"
Danny was still smiling, but there was just enough of an edge in his voice to make Martin's whole body tense. He had no idea how to answer that -- there was a chance that Danny was just screwing around, but if he wasn't... Part of Martin thought maybe he should just laugh it off, possibly let Danny believe he was seeing other people. But the truth was that even if he wanted to see other people he didn't have time, because lately every free minute he got away from the office was spent with Danny.
"No," he finally answered, straightening up a little so he could put a safe amount of distance between them if he needed to. "No, there's nobody else."
"Good." And just like that Danny relaxed again, letting his towel hit the floor as he slid off the counter to stand in front of Martin. "I kind of like having you all to myself."
Before Martin had time to make a fool of himself with a stunned, spluttering response Danny was kissing him again, and a surge of relief hit Martin hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He breathed in sharply through his nose and wrapped his arms around Danny, pulling him toward the door. Later he'd probably regret not saying all the things he was pretty sure he should say in this situation, but for now it felt like they'd said more than enough.
However. The fic is complete, and it is so, so different than I originally intended it to be. A little history:
This whole thing started because writingpathways made an offhand joke about Danny's scary facial hair. Then somebody (it might have been me) suggested that someone should write shaving fic. At some point carleton97 got on the bandwagon, but she's too busy with her NaNo project to write shaving fic, and since writingpathways doesn't do smut or Danny/Martin, that left me. It was just going to be a short little shaving piece and then I'd get back to my eight thousand other projects, but two days and eight pages later and I'm not really sure I've come up with anything even resembling what was originally discussed.
There is shaving and there's smut, but you know me...every time I set out to write something it turns into this big characterization nightmare, and there's always, always angst. Even my fluff is angsty. It's a disease.
But hey, it's done, so who cares. I wrote something from start to finish and it's longer than two pages! I feel I have a right to be excited about this after the past couple weeks. So. NC17 (though not as porntastic as I intended), sort of post-"Our Sons and Daughters", although the only spoiler is the facial hair. Hope it doesn't suck too much.
He was staring. He knew he was staring; he'd been doing it all day, and hours later he still couldn't help himself.
Danny knew he was staring too. He wasn't looking back, but every so often he'd smile that little smile that let Martin know he knew -- knew exactly what Martin was thinking, and it was enough to keep Martin half-hard all day long.
He felt like a teenager. He was acting like a teenager, and it was all Danny's fault for being so...Danny. Martin knew he liked the attention; it was obvious in the way he walked, the way he moved his hips in that way that was guaranteed to catch Martin's eye. It was in the way he swayed into Martin's personal space whenever they spoke, in that little smirk that lit up his features whenever he felt Martin's eyes on him.
For a long time Martin thought Danny didn't care who was looking. He assumed Danny just liked the attention, that it didn't matter if it was Martin or Sam or random strangers on the street, as long as he was the center of their world for just a minute or two. It was partly true; Danny did have a way of drawing attention to himself, and it couldn't all be accidental. But Martin knew now that Danny liked some kinds of attention better than others, and he liked it most of all when it was Martin's eyes on him.
Martin didn't bother trying not to stare when they finally reached his building and Danny climbed the stairs ahead of him. He'd been positive throughout their long, endless workday that this moment was never going to come, but now that they were finally out of the office and on their way to his place he could look all he wanted. He didn't have to worry about Jack or Sam or Vivian noticing, he didn't have to worry that he'd missed crucial bits of information because he was too busy thinking about licking Danny's neck to listen to the witnesses they'd spent the whole day interviewing.
And maybe he should ask Jack not to pair him with Danny anymore, because it was really starting to affect his job performance.
But now wasn't a good time to be thinking about Jack or work or anything, really, because his apartment door was open and Danny was tugging him inside, then his back hit the wall and he didn't even remember getting his keys out. It didn't matter, though, because Danny's mouth was already on his and his cheek rubbed against Martin's skin, rough and coarse and Martin didn't care that it was going to leave a mark.
His hands worked under Danny's jacket, grasping at the heat trapped between layers of expensive fabric. And he loved this, loved those moments of anticipation right before they started tearing off clothes in a desperate rush to get off as quickly as possible. Later, once the urgency passed, there would be slow, lazy sex, sprinkled with laughter and Danny's idea of humor. That was Martin's favorite part of all, because those were the moments he could pretend this was something other than two guys with no lives taking advantage of what was available.
He pushed that thought to the back of his mind when Danny's mouth pressed against his neck, hot breath and wet kisses against his skin and sending shivers down his spine. His fingers clenched around Danny's shirt, tugging blindly until finally his hands found skin. A familiar urgency kicked in and he wondered suddenly if he was the one who was always in a hurry, because he'd been blaming Danny for a long time and wouldn't it just figure that he was the one would couldn't slow down.
"Did Jack say anything about your new look?" he asked, deliberately forcing his mind away from the smooth heat of Danny's skin. He tilted his head to catch the edge of Danny's cheek against his own, swallowing a shudder at the scratch of stubble.
"No, but Viv did." Danny chuckled against his neck, hot and low and Martin had to fight hard not to resist when Danny pulled away to run a hand over his chin. "Guess I better take care of that before he does."
"You...uh...you want some help with that?" And he was not going to blush, because no matter how much he felt like a teenager, he hadn't been one for a long time.
"You offering to help me shave?"
Martin shrugged because they both already knew the answer, and he wasn't about to embarrass himself by trying to take it back now that it was already out there. It wasn't something he'd thought about before now, but he had to admit -- at least to himself -- that there was something appealing about the idea of Danny all lathered up and at his mercy.
Then Danny smirked and Martin knew he was blushing after all, but it didn't matter when hands closed around the front of his jacket to pull him away from the door and down the hall. Less than a minute later he was up against a wall again, in the bathroom this time and Danny's mouth on his as he pushed Martin's jacket off his shoulders. Something told him Danny had more than a quick shave in mind.
Danny's hands were everywhere, expertly stripping his clothes off without ever relinquishing Martin's mouth. And he was good at this, good enough that Martin had been a little intimidated at first. Now that he was used to it he kind of enjoyed the attention, because Danny always let his hands linger in all the right places.
Danny's fingers sliding along his collarbones, just the tips applying just the right amount of pressure as he slid Martin's shirt off. Danny's mouth on his neck as his hands moved lower, working open Martin's expensive, complicated suit pants with an expert touch. Danny's hands knew all the places on Martin that left him panting, biting down hard on the urge to beg for more, for his hands to dip just a little bit lower and then finally, when Martin thought he couldn't stand it anymore, Danny's hands right...there.
One day, when they were both exhausted from long, sleepless hours of working a particularly rough case, Martin knew he was going to come right in Danny's hand before they even got all his clothes off. He had a feeling Danny was waiting for that day.
But despite the hours Martin had spent thinking about this moment, he managed to retain just enough control to keep from embarrassing himself. And Danny always knew just when to let go, when to leave Martin hard and breathless and desperate while he carefully removed the rest of Martin's clothes, right down to sensible shoes and socks. Martin let himself be stripped, and when he was naked and leaning hard against the wall for support he forced his eyes open to watch the show.
Danny methodically undressing himself was a sight Martin would never tire of. Part of him wanted to reach out and help, and sometimes he did, speeding the process along until they were skin to skin. This time he forced himself not to touch, fingers curled against his palms hard enough to leave little half moon marks in his skin. He watched as Danny slowly slid his jacket off and hung it on the hook behind the door, then reached up and tugged his tie loose before he pulled it off.
Flash of red silk around his wrists, and Martin's cock twitched almost painfully at the image. His whole body flushed when Danny's gaze strayed down to his erection, then back up to Martin's face as he moved forward to plant his hands on the wall on either side of Martin's shoulders. Martin opened his mouth to say something, anything to get Danny to hurry up; he still had no idea what Danny had in mind, but it didn't matter if Danny wanted to fuck him up against this very wall. All Martin wanted was for him to do something, but before he could embarrass himself by begging Danny's mouth was pressed against his.
Danny's whole body pressed against him, silk sliding against his chest and the slight roughness of wool rubbing against his cock. Martin moaned into Danny's mouth and thrust forward, his blush even darker as he realized how close he was to coming all over Danny's clothes. There was nothing he could do about it, though, not with Danny pressed up against him and Danny's tongue fucking his mouth like he'd been thinking about it all day.
All Martin had to do was think about that tongue in other places, working him open so Danny could slide inside, and he knew he was going to lose it before they ever made it to wherever Danny was taking them. And that was another thing; Danny always left him feeling out of control, and Martin always let him. He didn't have to, but there was a part of him that liked letting Danny take over, even if it was just while they were behind closed doors.
Those kinds of thoughts worried him when he was out in the light of day, working a case where the slightest loss of control could lose him a suspect or a witness or even the case itself. This wasn't the real world, though; this was just him and Danny, like a dream that he knew was too good to last forever. Someday he'd wake up and this would all be gone, but for now he was going to hold on to it with everything he had.
"Shower first," Danny murmured when his mouth finally left Martin's, that ever-present smirk sliding flawlessly back into place. "Then shave."
Sometimes Martin wanted to smack that smirk right off Danny's face, usually when they were at work and Danny was acting even more cocky than usual. Other times all Danny had to do was smile that way and Martin forgot everything -- where he was, what they were supposed to be doing, sometimes even his own name -- and all he could think about was getting Danny alone and kissing him until they were both breathless. Then there were times like this, when that smirk left Martin's stomach fluttering and his heart racing way too fast, and he knew he was in more danger than he ever faced on the job.
He distracted himself with the shower controls, fighting the fog that had settled over his brain long enough to remember how to turn the water on. By the time the room began to fill with steam Danny had stripped completely; Martin took a long moment to admire all that golden skin before he reached for Danny again, pulling him under the hot spray. The tiles were cool against Martin's back when Danny pressed him up against the wall for the third time, blocking most of the spray as he claimed Martin's mouth again.
He'd known since the first moment he saw Danny that he was a hell of a kisser; it was one of the first things that came to mind the first time Danny grinned and shook his hand, then made a crack about how Martin got the job in Missing Persons. The insult had stung a little, but that voice and that mouth had been more than enough to soften the blow. And he hated himself for falling so easily for Danny's charm, but it was way too late to turn back now.
There was no way he could give up Danny's mouth now that he knew what it felt like against his skin, sucking at his neck and then down the center of his chest, torturing Martin's nipple before he moved further down, sinking to his knees on the shower floor. Martin shuddered and arched against the wall, fingers sliding through wet hair as Danny's tongue dipped into his belly button. And this...this was how he'd developed an addiction to Danny in the first place, because the first time he'd seen Danny on his knees Martin knew he'd never get enough.
He wasn't sentimental or naïve enough to have thoughts about worship, but he'd seen Danny in church and it was hard not to wonder if Danny ever thought those things. He wanted to laugh at the idea that Danny would ever feel that way about him, because he knew what this was, he knew exactly what kind of arrangement they had. They'd never talked about it, but Martin was an adult and he was intelligent enough to read between the lines.
He stopped thinking about laughing when Danny turned his head and ran his cheek along the length of Martin's cock. He stopped thinking at all when Danny did it again, and maybe he was going to miss that beard a little after all.
Danny's tongue dipped into the crease at the top of Martin's thigh, sending a fresh shudder down his spine. His knees wanted to give so he locked them in place, hoping to a God he'd never had much use for that if he was going to fall, he'd at least hold out until after he came. He knew what Danny would say if he could hear Martin praying about sex, and this time he did laugh. The sound was high and harsh and his whole body shook with it, but instead of stopping to ask what was so funny Danny pressed a kiss to the inside of Martin's thigh, hands sliding over his ass to urge his legs further apart.
A gasp escaped Martin's throat and he arched even harder against the tiles, his whole body tense with anticipation. And still Danny was teasing him, his mouth on the soft skin inside Martin's thigh and his fingers ghosting over Martin's ass so softly that Martin was almost sure he was imagining them. His hands left Danny's hair to flatten against the shower wall, searching in vain for purchase against the slick tile. He knew he couldn't take much more and when he heard himself choke out a barely intelligible 'please' he couldn't even bring himself to be ashamed of begging.
Evidently that was what Danny had been waiting for, because as soon as the single syllable escaped Martin's throat Danny's mouth closed around him, and Martin moaned and fought with every scrap of control left in him to keep from bucking forward. He closed his eyes and focused on the rhythm of Danny's mouth and the water beating against his skin until they were inseparable in his mind, every inch of his skin responding to Danny as he swallowed around Martin.
A surprised grunt when a finger slid inside him, and he pushed back against it and just...opened for Danny, silently begging for whatever Danny wanted to give. Danny laughed around his cock, the sound vibrating through Martin's whole body. And he knew he wouldn't last much longer, but he fought with everything in him to hold on for as long as possible, to hold on to that intensity until he was screaming with the effort. Then he was screaming, Danny's name mixed in with a jumble of nonsense words as he came down the other man's throat, his knees trembling with the intensity of his orgasm.
When he came back to himself he was still on his feet, his back pressed flat against the tiles and the weight of Danny's body holding him up. He could feel Danny's cock pressing insistently against his stomach, Danny's breath hot against his neck and Danny's hands on whatever skin he could reach. Martin lifted a boneless arm and ran his hand across Danny's ass, but before he got any further Danny pulled back to look at him.
"Later," he said, then he grinned and before Martin could ask what exactly Danny was waiting for the other man kissed him. Hard. And he kept on kissing Martin, right past breathless and into that space where Martin decided that he didn't really need to breathe after all as long as Danny kept kissing him forever. Just like this, bodies pressed tight together like they were made for each other, Danny's beard coarse against his chin and Martin knew his skin was going to peel in the morning.
When Danny did finally pull away he reached for the soap, washing them both with as much careful attention as he always paid to their clothes. Then he turned the water off and dried them both off, draping a towel carelessly around his hips and hoisting himself onto Martin's counter. Just like that, like he hadn't just sucked Martin off so skillfully that only Danny's weight kept him from hitting the floor. Like he wasn't still hard under that towel -- Martin's towel, and if he wasn't a practical, intelligent adult Martin might catch himself having ridiculous, juvenile thoughts about never washing that towel again.
He grinned at the thought and tied his towel around his own waist, carefully ignoring Danny while he dug in his medicine cabinet for shaving cream and a razor. He could feel the weight of Danny's gaze on him, heavy and warm like the sun on the first real spring day after a long winter. It felt good, and for the first time he could sort of understand why Danny liked it when people looked.
He set the razor down on the counter and turned on the sink, filling it with hot water and soaking a washcloth before he turned his attention back to Danny. He took his time running the washcloth over the other man's face; Danny's skin was probably already soft enough from the shower, but Martin liked having an excuse just to touch him like this.
Danny was always stealing little touches, in the office or out in the field, sometimes in Martin's kitchen on the mornings they woke up together. Martin tried to tell himself they didn't really mean anything; Danny was just a tactile person, and Martin happened to be convenient. But it was hard to believe that when he was standing between Danny's legs, their breath mingling and Danny's skin under Martin's fingers.
"You have a lot of practice at this?" Danny asked, his expression bemused as he watched Martin spray shaving cream into his hand.
Martin smiled self-consciously and looked up, keeping his focus carefully trained on Danny's cheeks so he wouldn't have to meet the other man's gaze. "On someone other than me? Not really."
Danny was silent while Martin covered the beginnings of a beard with shaving cream, taking a few seconds to make sure he hadn't missed a spot before he rinsed his hand and then picked up the razor. And it was weird doing this when he knew how hard Danny was; he could almost imagine that he could feel the heat radiating off Danny's groin, that he could feel the tension in Danny's body from his struggle to hold onto his control. It was a weird game, but if it meant Martin got to touch as much as he wanted he'd go along with it.
"You trust me?" he asked, grinning as he held up the razor. He was only half-joking, though, and when Danny smiled back and gripped Martin's hips to pull him even closer Martin's breath caught in his throat.
"Course I do, Fitzie. We're partners, aren't we?"
"Yeah," Martin answered, thankful suddenly for the task that kept him from meeting Danny's gaze. Shaving someone else required concentration, and at the moment Martin was grateful for the distraction. He didn't want to think about what they were to each other, what they were doing or what exactly Danny meant by 'partners'. He didn't want to be that guy, the one who needed reassurance and definitions and commitments. But it was hard not to want...he wanted everything Danny was willing to give, and it was even harder not to know what it was Danny was giving.
The first stroke of metal against skin made them both shiver, and Martin pressed a little closer and used his free hand to tilt Danny's head before he pressed the razor to his skin again. And he didn't spend a lot of time thinking about Danny's skin, but when his cock stirred he wasn't surprised to find that he could add another kink to his list of Danny-related obsessions.
"I never figured you for the kinky type," Danny said, and Martin flushed and looked up at the sudden accusation. He knew Danny couldn't have read his mind, but it was still a little spooky to hear his thoughts echoed in Danny's voice.
"I wouldn't go that far," he answered, pushing Danny's chin up so he could run the razor along the other man's jaw line.
"I bet there are a lot of places you'd go if you let yourself." Martin could hear the amusement in Danny's voice, but he managed to stifle the grin that threatened to surface. "So did your old man teach you to do this?"
"My father?" Martin echoed, pulling away long enough to rinse the razor before he looked up at Danny. "He didn't exactly have time between fundraisers and politicking." He heard the bitter edge creep into his voice, but he clamped down hard on it and focused on Danny's chin again. "Until I left D.C. I'd been going to the same barber almost all my life. He used to say there was nobody better to learn from than a professional."
"Guess so." Danny smirked and this time Martin didn't bother to fight the urge to smile. "So how come you're not using a straight razor?"
Martin rolled his eyes and pulled the razor away from Danny's skin long enough to look at him. "You're just lucky I'm not. If you talked this much while there was a straight razor at your throat you'd shut up pretty quick."
His mouth formed a shocked 'o' and Martin knew Danny was making fun of him, but he just shook his head and leaned over to rinse the razor again. A hand ghosted across his shoulder as he straightened up, and Martin's stomach did a weird little flip at the easy familiarity of the touch. It was a strange scene, and there was a small part of his brain that couldn't help thinking about how this would look from the outside. Anyone who saw them like this would think they were a lot more than just a convenience, just someone who understood just how demanding a federal agent's schedule could be.
Martin knew that was the only reason they'd ended up in bed together, but he didn't have the strength to put an end to it. After all, they both had the same problem; work demanded almost all their time, and it wasn't easy to keep a relationship going when they were sometimes on a case for days without more than a few hours' sleep in one of the conference rooms at the office. So Martin fit easily into Danny's life and vice versa; it didn't mean they didn't have a good time together, and so far it hadn't interfered with their working relationship. Most of the time he didn't even think about it, but every once in awhile he couldn't help wondering what would happen when one of them met someone else.
When he finally finished he rinsed the razor again and then reached for the washcloth, carefully wiping away the remnants of shaving cream before he let Danny pull him forward. Danny kissed him again, insistent and possessive and Martin's cock twitched in response. His hands left Danny's waist to tug at the knot in the front of his towel, and when he finally closed his fingers around Danny's cock Danny gasped against his mouth.
Almost instantly Danny was completely hard again, his cock hot against Martin's palm and his hips moving in time to Martin's strokes. Martin knew if they didn't stop that soon Danny wouldn't be able to; he'd held off for a long time, and part of Martin wanted to pull Danny off the counter and back to the bedroom so Danny could fuck him. But there was another part of him that liked the image of Danny on his bathroom counter, legs spread wide and his whole body pressing up into Martin's grip.
He tore his mouth away from Danny's, watching as Danny's back arched and his head dropped back. His hands were pressed flat against the counter, elbows locked and Martin had a feeling that was going to hurt later, but he didn't want to stop long enough even to get Danny to relax. He didn't want to stop at all; he wanted to keep going until Danny lost the last shreds of his control.
"Come on," he heard himself say, and God, he sounded like a bad porn now, but Danny didn't seem to notice. He couldn't see Martin's blush with his eyes closed, and when he murmured 'fuck' and tensed in Martin's grip Martin forgot to be embarrassed. The sight of Danny shuddering through his orgasm was worth any embarrassment Martin had to suffer, and he didn't even think about it before he lifted come-slick fingers to his mouth.
Danny's mouth was open, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe as he forced his eyes open to watch Martin suck his fingers clean. Somehow Martin managed to hold Danny's gaze, and when he was finally done he reached for the washcloth again and carefully cleaned Danny's stomach.
"I should let my beard grow out more often," Danny said, and Martin couldn't help it...he had to laugh at the self-satisfied expression on Danny's face. There wasn't even any point in arguing with Danny's opinion of his own irresistibility, because Martin knew he'd never get Danny to buy that Martin could just walk away from this.
"I can give you the number for my barber," Martin answered, leaning forward to brush his lips across the newly-smooth skin of Danny's cheek. "Tell him I sent you, he'll give you a discount."
"Thanks, I've already got a guy," Danny said, his breath hot against Martin's ear. "Does it just the way I like it."
And Martin knew it was a joke, but his heart still skipped a beat when Danny's words sank in. He pulled back just a little, expecting to find humor in Danny's eyes. Only Danny wasn't laughing, and suddenly Martin couldn't be sure he didn't mean anything by all the little casual remarks he tossed around.
"Are you asking for a regular appointment?" Martin asked, forcing what he hoped was a casual grin. "Because I'll have to check my schedule."
"Why? You got other people on your schedule, Fitzgerald?"
Danny was still smiling, but there was just enough of an edge in his voice to make Martin's whole body tense. He had no idea how to answer that -- there was a chance that Danny was just screwing around, but if he wasn't... Part of Martin thought maybe he should just laugh it off, possibly let Danny believe he was seeing other people. But the truth was that even if he wanted to see other people he didn't have time, because lately every free minute he got away from the office was spent with Danny.
"No," he finally answered, straightening up a little so he could put a safe amount of distance between them if he needed to. "No, there's nobody else."
"Good." And just like that Danny relaxed again, letting his towel hit the floor as he slid off the counter to stand in front of Martin. "I kind of like having you all to myself."
Before Martin had time to make a fool of himself with a stunned, spluttering response Danny was kissing him again, and a surge of relief hit Martin hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He breathed in sharply through his nose and wrapped his arms around Danny, pulling him toward the door. Later he'd probably regret not saying all the things he was pretty sure he should say in this situation, but for now it felt like they'd said more than enough.