[FIC] Watchmen - Dan/Rorschach - PG13 - "Frustrated"
Title: "Frustrated"
Author: panda_god
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Nite Owl II/ Rorschach
Word Count: 753
Warnings: Errr, awkward cuteness?
Summary: A continuation of " Confused". Rorschach is getting seriously frustrated.
Disclaimer: I do not own Watchmen. I never will. I just love and adore the characters of Watchmen.
This section is unbeta'd, and therefore prone to errors. Please forgive.
Rorschach had been on a particularly violent streak since the incident. He'd labeled it thus in his head, and growled in frustration every time it popped up in his mind's eye. He had gone back to work with Daniel the next night, and the nights after that, but neither had spoken a word about the incident. He had no doubt the second Nite Owl wanted to talk about it, he'd caught him plenty of times making vague references to it, but he didn't want to deal with it.
It was too damn much.
His frustration over the matter slowly fermented, and when it got to be overwhelming he took it out on the city's scumbags. It helped, a bit, for just a second. He'd also taken to “getting separated” from Daniel on their patrols, following leads in other directions to get away from the man's awkward attempts at small talk.
Unfortunately, Daniel seemed to have caught on to this, and was being especially observant, able to follow him without a seconds warning of where he was going. This made the frustration worse.
“Good patrol,” Daniel said as he eased the Owlship into its spot in his lair.
Rorschach didn't respond, and he saw Daniel begin to fidget in the pilots seat. “Hey Ror-”
“No.”
“Err, Rorschach,” the man started again, “I just wanted to talk about what happe-”
“Nothing to talk about, Daniel,” Rorschach cut in again.
“Yes there is!” Daniel said, almost sounding desperate.
“Nothing. To. Talk. About.”
His eyes narrowed behind his inkblot mask, his fingers curling into fists when he thought Daniel might press it. He didn't. Instead he saw the man's shoulders droop, heard him exhale a sigh, and watched him disembark the ship. The shorter vigilante was hot on his heels, cheeks burning under his mask, which swirled and shifted shape continuously, never resting on one shape for longer than a second.
“Was a mistake,” he insisted. “Were confused and-”
“No!” Daniel said, spinning around, and Rorschach fought the urge to flinch away from the hurt in his wide brown eyes. “I wasn't confused. I meant to do it, and I meant to do it to you.”
Rorschach's lips formed a grimace, a frustrated “Hurm,” working free of him. “Not homosexual, Daniel.”
No apologies to the taller man, just a simple, statement of fact.
And then Daniel was on him.
He hadn't expected that from the usually submissive man. It was shocking. Rorschach tensed as they fell to the floor, rolling around, limbs tangled. He punched the taller man in the stomach, fingers immediately aching from contact with the man's armor, and Daniel fought back. It was a frenzied struggle for control, and Rorschach was losing, most brilliantly. Then those lips were on his again, through the mask, teeth pulling at the fabric covered skin. The shorter man growled, bucking and twisting like an animal trying to escape. For his part, the Nite Owl managed to maintain control over the situation for longer than he'd expected, only losing his leverage and being thrown off the shorter man when his knee connected with his groin.
Rorschach sprung on him, straddling his hips, fingers grasping whatever purchase on his suit they could find, and he slammed him down against the floor, snarling.
“Not a homosexual!”
Daniel hissed when his head hit the concrete, but didn't try to fight it. Rorschach slammed him back a few more times, the same words growled at each connection of back to stone, but the slams were getting weaker each time. Slower. And then they stopped altogether.
“Not a homosexual,” he said, and was leaning in close.
Daniel watched with trepidation as the shorter man reached up and one handedly yanked his mask up over his nose, the inkblots scrunching together. Then they were kissing. Daniel's fingers were immediately at Rorschach's hips, squeezing him almost painfully, and the shorter man hissed when his lower lip was once again captured between pearly white teeth.
“Not,” he said, fingers curling against Daniel's chest. “Not!”
And then he was pushing away, leaving Daniel flushed and panting on the ground. The taller man struggled to his feet, intending to pursue his partner, but by the time he'd gotten his bearings Rorschach was already gone.
A gloved hand passed roughly over a flushed face, and Daniel sighed, turning away from the darkness of the subway tunnel and trudging towards his home.
Author: panda_god
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Nite Owl II/ Rorschach
Word Count: 753
Warnings: Errr, awkward cuteness?
Summary: A continuation of " Confused". Rorschach is getting seriously frustrated.
Disclaimer: I do not own Watchmen. I never will. I just love and adore the characters of Watchmen.
This section is unbeta'd, and therefore prone to errors. Please forgive.
Rorschach had been on a particularly violent streak since the incident. He'd labeled it thus in his head, and growled in frustration every time it popped up in his mind's eye. He had gone back to work with Daniel the next night, and the nights after that, but neither had spoken a word about the incident. He had no doubt the second Nite Owl wanted to talk about it, he'd caught him plenty of times making vague references to it, but he didn't want to deal with it.
It was too damn much.
His frustration over the matter slowly fermented, and when it got to be overwhelming he took it out on the city's scumbags. It helped, a bit, for just a second. He'd also taken to “getting separated” from Daniel on their patrols, following leads in other directions to get away from the man's awkward attempts at small talk.
Unfortunately, Daniel seemed to have caught on to this, and was being especially observant, able to follow him without a seconds warning of where he was going. This made the frustration worse.
“Good patrol,” Daniel said as he eased the Owlship into its spot in his lair.
Rorschach didn't respond, and he saw Daniel begin to fidget in the pilots seat. “Hey Ror-”
“No.”
“Err, Rorschach,” the man started again, “I just wanted to talk about what happe-”
“Nothing to talk about, Daniel,” Rorschach cut in again.
“Yes there is!” Daniel said, almost sounding desperate.
“Nothing. To. Talk. About.”
His eyes narrowed behind his inkblot mask, his fingers curling into fists when he thought Daniel might press it. He didn't. Instead he saw the man's shoulders droop, heard him exhale a sigh, and watched him disembark the ship. The shorter vigilante was hot on his heels, cheeks burning under his mask, which swirled and shifted shape continuously, never resting on one shape for longer than a second.
“Was a mistake,” he insisted. “Were confused and-”
“No!” Daniel said, spinning around, and Rorschach fought the urge to flinch away from the hurt in his wide brown eyes. “I wasn't confused. I meant to do it, and I meant to do it to you.”
Rorschach's lips formed a grimace, a frustrated “Hurm,” working free of him. “Not homosexual, Daniel.”
No apologies to the taller man, just a simple, statement of fact.
And then Daniel was on him.
He hadn't expected that from the usually submissive man. It was shocking. Rorschach tensed as they fell to the floor, rolling around, limbs tangled. He punched the taller man in the stomach, fingers immediately aching from contact with the man's armor, and Daniel fought back. It was a frenzied struggle for control, and Rorschach was losing, most brilliantly. Then those lips were on his again, through the mask, teeth pulling at the fabric covered skin. The shorter man growled, bucking and twisting like an animal trying to escape. For his part, the Nite Owl managed to maintain control over the situation for longer than he'd expected, only losing his leverage and being thrown off the shorter man when his knee connected with his groin.
Rorschach sprung on him, straddling his hips, fingers grasping whatever purchase on his suit they could find, and he slammed him down against the floor, snarling.
“Not a homosexual!”
Daniel hissed when his head hit the concrete, but didn't try to fight it. Rorschach slammed him back a few more times, the same words growled at each connection of back to stone, but the slams were getting weaker each time. Slower. And then they stopped altogether.
“Not a homosexual,” he said, and was leaning in close.
Daniel watched with trepidation as the shorter man reached up and one handedly yanked his mask up over his nose, the inkblots scrunching together. Then they were kissing. Daniel's fingers were immediately at Rorschach's hips, squeezing him almost painfully, and the shorter man hissed when his lower lip was once again captured between pearly white teeth.
“Not,” he said, fingers curling against Daniel's chest. “Not!”
And then he was pushing away, leaving Daniel flushed and panting on the ground. The taller man struggled to his feet, intending to pursue his partner, but by the time he'd gotten his bearings Rorschach was already gone.
A gloved hand passed roughly over a flushed face, and Daniel sighed, turning away from the darkness of the subway tunnel and trudging towards his home.