stagesoflove round one
title: Strange
with: Danny/Flack
rated: PG
herein: five rooms - kitchen
disclaim: me no own
note: not at all what I intended to write for their first one; post-S2 finale
Danny stands in the kitchen, waiting for the percolator to finish its job already. He can see the television from here, and he’s got it tuned to the morning news. It’s just background noise though. He can’t comprehend a goddamn thing before he’s got at least half a cup in him.
The coffee’s done, and he pours a cup and stands there in the kitchen drinking it. Frowning to himself. Usually he takes his coffee over to the couch and stares at the television. When the newscasters start to make sense he knows to get up and get dressed and head in to work.
But he stays there in the kitchen and takes another swallow of his coffee. Times that Don has spent the night they usually end up drinking coffee in the kitchen like this, which is stupid because there’s no reason for them to do that. He always sits on the couch while he’s waiting for the caffeine to get into his bloodstream, and he suspects that Don does the same thing the mornings he’s alone.
Besides, Don isn’t here. Don’s still in the fucking hospital, and goddamn it all to hell he only went about twenty minues this morning without thinking about that. He thought he’d do better than that. It’s been five days and Don’s fine and Don’s gonna be fine and goddamn him for almost getting blown up in the first place. Like Danny hasn’t spent enough time at the hospital lately.
Danny tops up his cup and and forces himself out of the kitchen and over to the couch. No reason he and Don tended to drink their coffee there anyway.
(except-except-it all started there didn’t it-months ago-shitfaced in Danny’s kichen-and Don had put his hand out-had touched Danny’s neck like it was something wonderful and strange-)
……………
Thanks for reading; feedback always appreciated.
with: Danny/Flack
rated: PG
herein: five rooms - kitchen
disclaim: me no own
note: not at all what I intended to write for their first one; post-S2 finale
Danny stands in the kitchen, waiting for the percolator to finish its job already. He can see the television from here, and he’s got it tuned to the morning news. It’s just background noise though. He can’t comprehend a goddamn thing before he’s got at least half a cup in him.
The coffee’s done, and he pours a cup and stands there in the kitchen drinking it. Frowning to himself. Usually he takes his coffee over to the couch and stares at the television. When the newscasters start to make sense he knows to get up and get dressed and head in to work.
But he stays there in the kitchen and takes another swallow of his coffee. Times that Don has spent the night they usually end up drinking coffee in the kitchen like this, which is stupid because there’s no reason for them to do that. He always sits on the couch while he’s waiting for the caffeine to get into his bloodstream, and he suspects that Don does the same thing the mornings he’s alone.
Besides, Don isn’t here. Don’s still in the fucking hospital, and goddamn it all to hell he only went about twenty minues this morning without thinking about that. He thought he’d do better than that. It’s been five days and Don’s fine and Don’s gonna be fine and goddamn him for almost getting blown up in the first place. Like Danny hasn’t spent enough time at the hospital lately.
Danny tops up his cup and and forces himself out of the kitchen and over to the couch. No reason he and Don tended to drink their coffee there anyway.
(except-except-it all started there didn’t it-months ago-shitfaced in Danny’s kichen-and Don had put his hand out-had touched Danny’s neck like it was something wonderful and strange-)
……………
Thanks for reading; feedback always appreciated.