Fic: Say Goodnight (WAT, Danny/Martin, NC17)
Let me just start off by saying that phone sex is not really my forte. Without getting all TMI, it doesn't really do it for me. But nekosmuse wanted to read Danny/Martin phone sex, and apparently I am your all-purpose request girl this week.
The truth is that the network went down this morning, and since my job is completely network-dependent, I found myself with nothing to do but entertain myself with fic. And since I am generally incapable of resisting a challenge, I wrote out of my comfort zone and this is the result. I'm pleasantly surprised to say that I don't completely hate it, but I'll let you all judge for yourselves.
Danny, Martin, and a late night phone call. NC17.
He's been thinking about this all day - not exactly a professional approach to his job, but he's been away from home for almost three solid days now and it gets a little harder to focus with each passing hour. And he's not sure when he started thinking of Martin as 'home', but he tries not to analyze it too much. Instead he kicks off his shoes and slides his jacket off, loosens his tie and stretches out on the hotel room bed before he finds his cell phone and dials the number he knows by heart.
"Fitzgerald."
"Hey," he says, his voice low and deliberately suggestive. He can practically see Martin's shy smile on the other end of the line, and he closes his eyes and leans back against the pillows. "Miss me?"
"Maybe," Martin answers, but Danny learned to translate Martin-speak a long time ago, so what he hears is 'yes'. "You about done out there?"
"I don't know, it's kind of nice out here, I was thinking of maybe doing some sightseeing before I come back. I can see why you stuck it out so long."
He can hear Martin's smile in his voice, hears the rustle of his clothes as he moves around the apartment. "Somehow I don't really picture you as the Seattle type. I still don't see why they didn't send me."
"It's not like you need to know the area to interview suspects, Martin," he answers, affection mingled with the exasperation in his voice. "Diversity, right? Isn't that why you signed on to be a Fed in the first place?"
"I was more interested in making a difference than the travel plan."
"Right, I forgot, you're a Boy Scout to the bitter end." Danny laughs, sinking a little further into the pillows and unbuttoning the collar of his shirt. "So tell me, Boy Scout, what are you wearing?"
Martin lets out a sigh and Danny pictures him rolling his eyes, the tips of his ears flushing. "Danny..."
It's a warning, but Danny pushes forward anyway, because it's been three days and as far as he's concerned, that's three days too long. Besides, he likes seeing how far out of his comfort zone he can push Martin. "Let me guess. You're still in your suit pants, getting them all wrinkled so you'll have to dry clean them before you can wear them again. I hope you're not wearing that brown suit."
Martin laughs softly on the other end of the line, and Danny pictures the blush creeping into his cheeks now. "What's wrong with my brown suit?"
"It's hideous, Martin. You're too good-looking to wear such ugly clothes." Compliments work every time, and Danny wonders for the thousandth time whether either of Martin's parents paid any attention to him at all when he was growing up. It's not that he's insecure, but he's hungry enough for that kind of attention to make Danny wonder. "So am I right?"
"It's navy," Martin answers, reluctant and Danny smiles because he knows how fun it is to pull details out of Martin little by little.
"With that orange tie?"
"No tie. White shirt."
Or maybe he's not going to have to coax after all, but that's okay too because he likes knowing Martin misses him enough to play along. "Mmm," he murmurs, "where are you?"
"At home. What, you think I'd let you do this if I was still at the office?"
"There's nobody at the office at this hour," Danny reminds him. "But as much as I like the idea of you sitting at your desk, I meant where in the apartment."
"Living room. Couch."
Right to the point - that works for Danny, because Martin can be as reticent as he wants as long as he keeps playing along. Danny's always been good at providing atmosphere, after all, so all he really needs is for Martin to listen. "Unbutton your shirt."
"Danny...this is crazy."
"It's not crazy, Martin. I've been thinking about you all day."
"You have?"
"Yeah, and if I'm gonna jerk off while I think about you at least I can listen to your voice while I do it." He smiles at the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line and works open the buttons of his own shirt with one hand. "Are you doing it?"
"Doing what?" Embarrassed now, but turned on, too, and Danny's cock twitches in anticipation.
"Take off your shirt, Martin."
He hears the beleaguered sigh, but it's followed by the rustling of fabric and a few seconds later Martin's voice is in his ear again, husky and low. "Happy?"
"Getting there," Danny answers, pushing his own shirt open and reaching for the top of his suit pants. "Unbutton your pants for me."
For a second there's no response and he thinks maybe Martin's going to turn him down - or worse, hang up on him - but before he has time to panic he hears the telltale sound of fabric rustling and a soft sigh on the other end of the line. He smiles his approval and slides a hand inside his own pants, not bothering to hold back a groan when his fingers close around his cock.
"God, Martin, I've been half-hard all day just thinking about this. Do you know how much it sucks to conduct interviews when you're hard?"
"Yeah, actually, I do," Martin answers, his voice amused and a little breathy. "On or off?"
"What?"
"My pants. Do you want me to take them off?"
He's asking for direction - Danny didn't expect that, but it's a welcome surprise. He doesn't want to feel like he coerced Martin to do this for him, after all - he wants them both to enjoy it, and not just because they're getting off. "Leave them on," he answers, picturing Martin sprawled on the couch with his chest bare and his pants open. "Take your dick out."
Martin sighs again when he closes his hand around his cock, a sound Danny's heard often enough to recognize. "God, you're hot like this, Martin. Spread your legs for me. Wider."
A groan and more rustling of fabric, and he pictures Martin doing exactly what he asked. His grip on his cock tightens just a little, stroking roughly a few times before he finds his voice again. "Close your eyes. That's my hand stroking you, making you even harder. We've both been thinking about this all day and by the time we're alone we can't stand it anymore. We don't even take the time to get all our clothes off - just your shirt and tie, so I can kiss my way down your chest while you fuck my hand."
He hears Martin's strangled moan and pictures his hand moving faster and faster, pictures his hand on Danny's cock as he jerks himself off in time to Martin's frantic breathing. "I wanna fuck you, Martin. I want your knees on my shoulders and your eyes open so you can watch. I want to watch you jerk yourself off while I'm buried inside you, so hard you'll feel it for days."
"Jesus...Danny..."
"Tell me what you want, Martin." Silence on the other end of the line, and he knows Martin doesn't want to say it. He has a hard time talking when they're in the same room together, and Danny can picture him blushing hot and dark even as he gets closer and closer to the edge. "Tell me."
A command this time, and he hears Martin struggling to find his voice. "I want...want you to...fuck me."
"Where?"
"In...in the office. On my desk."
"Conference table's bigger," Danny says, grinning breathlessly and squeezing his cock a little harder.
"Jack's couch."
"There's an idea." Danny smiles his approval and changes the scene, pictures Martin moving under him on that narrow leather couch. Or better yet, Martin bent over it with his hands braced against the back and Danny gripping his hips, making him come so hard he forgets his own name.
"Fuck you on Jack's couch," Danny growls, hand moving faster and he can tell by the way Martin's breathing that he's just as close. "On the conference table, on your desk. In the elevator."
He wants to fuck Martin on Sam's desk, just to prove a point, but he knows better than to say it. He doesn't want to ruin the mood, and besides, Sam's in the next room and either listening to him or watching some lame movie on the crappy hotel cable. And he's not thinking about Sam now, or anybody else except Martin. Martin who's moaning louder, murmuring breathlessly and Danny's heart clenches hard when Martin whispers his name.
And he's way too close, because he wants this to last, but he knows it can't. Not when they've both been thinking about it all day, when it's been three days since the last time they were together and Danny hasn't given in to the urge to do this since he left. He's not sure why, but he has a feeling from the way Martin's panting that he hasn't either, and that's a good enough reason for him.
"Come on," he hears himself whisper, like bad porn now and he can't even make himself care. "Wanna hear you come for me."
Martin gasps on the other end of the line and Danny pictures him moving faster, legs splayed and his mouth open, fighting for breath as he thrusts into his fist. Without even thinking Danny mirrors the movement until his hips are coming up off the mattress, grunting with each thrust until finally he grinds out a 'fuck' between gritted teeth and comes. A second later Martin's coming too, breath harsh in Danny's ear and he's seen Martin come enough times to picture exactly what he must look like. He grins at the image and lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking his skin clean while he waits for Martin to catch his breath.
A few long moments pass in silence, and he starts to wonder if Martin fell asleep on him. "Martin? You still with me?"
"When are you coming home?" Martin's voice is low and full of promise, and Danny's heart skips a beat at the image of exactly what Martin's promising.
"Tomorrow. Should be back just in time to give Jack our report and call it a night."
"Good."
Danny laughs and stretches lazily, wondering vaguely if it's worth bothering to get up and peel off his clothes before he goes right back to bed. "When I get back you can tell me how long you've been thinking about having sex in the office."
He pictures Martin blushing, his whole body flushing this time. "Why, you think we could get away with it?"
"Never know, Fitzie. We are Feds, after all." Danny grins and glances at the clock, groaning when he realizes how late it is on the East Coast. "Go get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."
"You better," Martin says, and Danny swallows hard when he pictures Martin standing up and pulling his clothes back together. "Goodnight, Danny."
"Night, Martin." Danny grins at the phone one last time before hanging up, dropping it on the nightstand with his gun and his wallet before he forces himself out of bed long enough to peel his clothes off and brush his teeth. He's not looking forward to a long, boring day of hanging around airports waiting for connections, but at least he knows what's waiting for him when he finally gets home.
The truth is that the network went down this morning, and since my job is completely network-dependent, I found myself with nothing to do but entertain myself with fic. And since I am generally incapable of resisting a challenge, I wrote out of my comfort zone and this is the result. I'm pleasantly surprised to say that I don't completely hate it, but I'll let you all judge for yourselves.
Danny, Martin, and a late night phone call. NC17.
He's been thinking about this all day - not exactly a professional approach to his job, but he's been away from home for almost three solid days now and it gets a little harder to focus with each passing hour. And he's not sure when he started thinking of Martin as 'home', but he tries not to analyze it too much. Instead he kicks off his shoes and slides his jacket off, loosens his tie and stretches out on the hotel room bed before he finds his cell phone and dials the number he knows by heart.
"Fitzgerald."
"Hey," he says, his voice low and deliberately suggestive. He can practically see Martin's shy smile on the other end of the line, and he closes his eyes and leans back against the pillows. "Miss me?"
"Maybe," Martin answers, but Danny learned to translate Martin-speak a long time ago, so what he hears is 'yes'. "You about done out there?"
"I don't know, it's kind of nice out here, I was thinking of maybe doing some sightseeing before I come back. I can see why you stuck it out so long."
He can hear Martin's smile in his voice, hears the rustle of his clothes as he moves around the apartment. "Somehow I don't really picture you as the Seattle type. I still don't see why they didn't send me."
"It's not like you need to know the area to interview suspects, Martin," he answers, affection mingled with the exasperation in his voice. "Diversity, right? Isn't that why you signed on to be a Fed in the first place?"
"I was more interested in making a difference than the travel plan."
"Right, I forgot, you're a Boy Scout to the bitter end." Danny laughs, sinking a little further into the pillows and unbuttoning the collar of his shirt. "So tell me, Boy Scout, what are you wearing?"
Martin lets out a sigh and Danny pictures him rolling his eyes, the tips of his ears flushing. "Danny..."
It's a warning, but Danny pushes forward anyway, because it's been three days and as far as he's concerned, that's three days too long. Besides, he likes seeing how far out of his comfort zone he can push Martin. "Let me guess. You're still in your suit pants, getting them all wrinkled so you'll have to dry clean them before you can wear them again. I hope you're not wearing that brown suit."
Martin laughs softly on the other end of the line, and Danny pictures the blush creeping into his cheeks now. "What's wrong with my brown suit?"
"It's hideous, Martin. You're too good-looking to wear such ugly clothes." Compliments work every time, and Danny wonders for the thousandth time whether either of Martin's parents paid any attention to him at all when he was growing up. It's not that he's insecure, but he's hungry enough for that kind of attention to make Danny wonder. "So am I right?"
"It's navy," Martin answers, reluctant and Danny smiles because he knows how fun it is to pull details out of Martin little by little.
"With that orange tie?"
"No tie. White shirt."
Or maybe he's not going to have to coax after all, but that's okay too because he likes knowing Martin misses him enough to play along. "Mmm," he murmurs, "where are you?"
"At home. What, you think I'd let you do this if I was still at the office?"
"There's nobody at the office at this hour," Danny reminds him. "But as much as I like the idea of you sitting at your desk, I meant where in the apartment."
"Living room. Couch."
Right to the point - that works for Danny, because Martin can be as reticent as he wants as long as he keeps playing along. Danny's always been good at providing atmosphere, after all, so all he really needs is for Martin to listen. "Unbutton your shirt."
"Danny...this is crazy."
"It's not crazy, Martin. I've been thinking about you all day."
"You have?"
"Yeah, and if I'm gonna jerk off while I think about you at least I can listen to your voice while I do it." He smiles at the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line and works open the buttons of his own shirt with one hand. "Are you doing it?"
"Doing what?" Embarrassed now, but turned on, too, and Danny's cock twitches in anticipation.
"Take off your shirt, Martin."
He hears the beleaguered sigh, but it's followed by the rustling of fabric and a few seconds later Martin's voice is in his ear again, husky and low. "Happy?"
"Getting there," Danny answers, pushing his own shirt open and reaching for the top of his suit pants. "Unbutton your pants for me."
For a second there's no response and he thinks maybe Martin's going to turn him down - or worse, hang up on him - but before he has time to panic he hears the telltale sound of fabric rustling and a soft sigh on the other end of the line. He smiles his approval and slides a hand inside his own pants, not bothering to hold back a groan when his fingers close around his cock.
"God, Martin, I've been half-hard all day just thinking about this. Do you know how much it sucks to conduct interviews when you're hard?"
"Yeah, actually, I do," Martin answers, his voice amused and a little breathy. "On or off?"
"What?"
"My pants. Do you want me to take them off?"
He's asking for direction - Danny didn't expect that, but it's a welcome surprise. He doesn't want to feel like he coerced Martin to do this for him, after all - he wants them both to enjoy it, and not just because they're getting off. "Leave them on," he answers, picturing Martin sprawled on the couch with his chest bare and his pants open. "Take your dick out."
Martin sighs again when he closes his hand around his cock, a sound Danny's heard often enough to recognize. "God, you're hot like this, Martin. Spread your legs for me. Wider."
A groan and more rustling of fabric, and he pictures Martin doing exactly what he asked. His grip on his cock tightens just a little, stroking roughly a few times before he finds his voice again. "Close your eyes. That's my hand stroking you, making you even harder. We've both been thinking about this all day and by the time we're alone we can't stand it anymore. We don't even take the time to get all our clothes off - just your shirt and tie, so I can kiss my way down your chest while you fuck my hand."
He hears Martin's strangled moan and pictures his hand moving faster and faster, pictures his hand on Danny's cock as he jerks himself off in time to Martin's frantic breathing. "I wanna fuck you, Martin. I want your knees on my shoulders and your eyes open so you can watch. I want to watch you jerk yourself off while I'm buried inside you, so hard you'll feel it for days."
"Jesus...Danny..."
"Tell me what you want, Martin." Silence on the other end of the line, and he knows Martin doesn't want to say it. He has a hard time talking when they're in the same room together, and Danny can picture him blushing hot and dark even as he gets closer and closer to the edge. "Tell me."
A command this time, and he hears Martin struggling to find his voice. "I want...want you to...fuck me."
"Where?"
"In...in the office. On my desk."
"Conference table's bigger," Danny says, grinning breathlessly and squeezing his cock a little harder.
"Jack's couch."
"There's an idea." Danny smiles his approval and changes the scene, pictures Martin moving under him on that narrow leather couch. Or better yet, Martin bent over it with his hands braced against the back and Danny gripping his hips, making him come so hard he forgets his own name.
"Fuck you on Jack's couch," Danny growls, hand moving faster and he can tell by the way Martin's breathing that he's just as close. "On the conference table, on your desk. In the elevator."
He wants to fuck Martin on Sam's desk, just to prove a point, but he knows better than to say it. He doesn't want to ruin the mood, and besides, Sam's in the next room and either listening to him or watching some lame movie on the crappy hotel cable. And he's not thinking about Sam now, or anybody else except Martin. Martin who's moaning louder, murmuring breathlessly and Danny's heart clenches hard when Martin whispers his name.
And he's way too close, because he wants this to last, but he knows it can't. Not when they've both been thinking about it all day, when it's been three days since the last time they were together and Danny hasn't given in to the urge to do this since he left. He's not sure why, but he has a feeling from the way Martin's panting that he hasn't either, and that's a good enough reason for him.
"Come on," he hears himself whisper, like bad porn now and he can't even make himself care. "Wanna hear you come for me."
Martin gasps on the other end of the line and Danny pictures him moving faster, legs splayed and his mouth open, fighting for breath as he thrusts into his fist. Without even thinking Danny mirrors the movement until his hips are coming up off the mattress, grunting with each thrust until finally he grinds out a 'fuck' between gritted teeth and comes. A second later Martin's coming too, breath harsh in Danny's ear and he's seen Martin come enough times to picture exactly what he must look like. He grins at the image and lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking his skin clean while he waits for Martin to catch his breath.
A few long moments pass in silence, and he starts to wonder if Martin fell asleep on him. "Martin? You still with me?"
"When are you coming home?" Martin's voice is low and full of promise, and Danny's heart skips a beat at the image of exactly what Martin's promising.
"Tomorrow. Should be back just in time to give Jack our report and call it a night."
"Good."
Danny laughs and stretches lazily, wondering vaguely if it's worth bothering to get up and peel off his clothes before he goes right back to bed. "When I get back you can tell me how long you've been thinking about having sex in the office."
He pictures Martin blushing, his whole body flushing this time. "Why, you think we could get away with it?"
"Never know, Fitzie. We are Feds, after all." Danny grins and glances at the clock, groaning when he realizes how late it is on the East Coast. "Go get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."
"You better," Martin says, and Danny swallows hard when he pictures Martin standing up and pulling his clothes back together. "Goodnight, Danny."
"Night, Martin." Danny grins at the phone one last time before hanging up, dropping it on the nightstand with his gun and his wallet before he forces himself out of bed long enough to peel his clothes off and brush his teeth. He's not looking forward to a long, boring day of hanging around airports waiting for connections, but at least he knows what's waiting for him when he finally gets home.