haolehothead | (no subject)

Entry tags:

- game: tabula rasa

(no subject)

When the morning sunlight comes spilling into his room, Danny makes a muffled noise of protest as he rolls back onto his stomach and starts to regret asking Steve to put in windows. Sure, windows are great and they let the light in and now he feels like he lives in a home and not a shack, but in the morning, now he just feels grumpy and glared on.

Danny rolls onto his back and sighs, staring at the ceiling and glancing at the wall to his side that separates his room from Steve's. Usually he just knocks on it and asks if Steve wants breakfast, but Danny's got a full day with a shift at the IPD and then over to the Children's Office. Not to mention, he does want to see some people about house repairs. So, it's a long day, and he'd still like to squeeze in Date Number Six.

He finally coaxes himself out of bed. The sooner he gets to the office, the sooner he gets back for dinner. He knows he's going to be around little ones inevitably, so he doesn't go for the tie, getting an old Jets football jersey and sliding it on atop a pair of worn-in jeans. Yeah, he's gonna catch hell, but he learned his lessons about ties around babies when Grace was tiny.

He makes a note to pick up hair gel when he comes back because his hair is flyaways and tears, no order to it as he starts making noise to tell Steve that he's up. "Hey! I'm making fruit for breakfast. You know, just like every other day, since you haven't put a stove in for me!" he shouts, voice escalating on every word.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Danny lets out small and wanton sounding little moans. He can't even begin to help it, not with what Steve is doing to him. He lets out a groan as Steve presses up against him, leaving a distinct impression of what's going to happen soon. "What are you, you are," Danny protests with warm laughter. "You're a menace. An absolute menace, babe." He leans forward in his drawer, ass sticking out slightly as he gets out the provisions he needs.

Steve's jaw tenses as he tries to refrain from groaning, clearing his throat instead to mask the sound, his khakis getting more uncomfortable and constraining by the second, and sits down on Danny's bed, legs hanging off the side as he reaches one arm out for his partner, motioning with curling fingers. "Get over here."

Danny reaches down to pry off his socks, leaving him in no more than his boxers. Which makes Steve distinctly overdressed. "Why, you got plans for me?" Danny says with a smirk, getting on the bed by straddling Steve's hips.

"No more than you have plans for me," Steve says, laying back when Danny straddles him, hips jutting upward, sliding his arms around Danny to bring him down on top and kissing him, savoring the warmth of his body.

"You didn't answer me, baby," Danny says, drawing out the endearment like it's a little bit of a weapon. He stares at Steve with half-lidded eyes. "How much you done of this? Do I gotta teach?"

"Why do I get the feeling that you know more than I do when it comes to this?" Steve murmurs, his fingertips kneading down Danny's back, along the curve of his spine. "I'd be open to instruction."

"Well, if you're gonna be so good about taking directions," Danny murmurs, easing back off of Steve, letting out a small sound of disappointment when he climbs off, but it's necessary to ease down the bed, taking off Steve's pants with his teeth. Which, yes, is an acquired skill and one he learned on miniskirts, but look at how transferable it is.

Steve's response lands somewhere between a breathless chuckle and another groan when Danny pulls that move out of his back pocket, arching up just enough to assist him in the removal of his pants, kicking them off entirely once they're down to his knees and then ankles, and he props his head up with his arm, just enough to the right angle where he can see Danny hovering over his lower half. "You've got my attention."

"Do I?" Danny wonders, sliding his fingertips up Steve's legs slowly, hitching in the hem of his boxers. He slowly tugs them down. He's gonna be good about this and he settles on his knees while yanking Steve to the edge of the bed, dragging slow and hot kisses up the inside of Steve's thigh before taking the head of his dick past his lips, curling his tongue around before taking him deep.

Steve's hard for it now, literally aching, and he loses all center of balance the minute Danny swallows him down, into the wet heat of his mouth. His elbow slips and his head falls back, one hand gripping at the bedsheets as the other cups the back of Danny's head. Steve sucks in a deep breath, but when he exhales, it all comes out in one long groan. "Oh, God - Danny, where did you even - "

Well, now, this is all a very good start, a good beginning. Danny doesn't want to just make it so quick and dry. So he eases off and smirks up at Steve, popping his thumb into his mouth and sucking on it for a long minute before he drags it underneath Steve's dick and lets that overwhelm him for a second.

Then it's back to his mouth, taking him deep again and breathes hot before giving a slow hum to add vibration, drawing back away and sucking fast and hard at the head.

It's almost impossible for him to distinguish between sensations at first. His mind is so overwhelmed by it, his body giving in to it, to everything Danny is doing to him, that for a minute all Steve can do is succumb to making noises of approval, hips occasionally spasming before he can control himself. He doesn't want this to end too soon.

He hisses through gritted teeth, the heels of his feet bumping against the floor when he lifts his legs once and then lets them fall again as he struggles not to rock under Danny's sucking.

Danny reaches up and presses both palms flat against Steve's hips to press more than a considerable amount of pressure there to get him to stop moving. Sure, he knows that he's enthusiastic, but Danny's got this in hand (so to speak) and Steve need not 'help'. "Stop it," Danny growls, when he eases away, before going right back to it, his bend forward getting a little deeper.

"Sorry," Steve manages, around another moan, and wills his entire body to fall still. It works, for the most part, even as he grabs a tighter fistful of the sheets to try and channel some of his tension elsewhere. "I just - I don't want to - not yet, Danny."

Well, if Steve had just said that in the first place...

Danny eases away and slides his way up Steve's body, straddling him again to occupy himself with slow kisses. His knee is twinging, but barely, and he's more occupied with his hard-on pressing against Steve's hip, straining the boxers.

Steve makes a small noise of happiness against Danny's lips, his own hips rolling up again, and these boxers might even be a size too big, they're from the clothes box after all, but right now they couldn't feel more restrictive, and he starts busying himself with getting them off as fast as possible, hands trembling as he struggles to push them down.

Danny feels a bit lazy already and he grins, sliding to his knees to give Steve room to undress, inching back down to his knees when he's given Steve a momentary reprieve. He lays his tongue flat and repositions himself, going right back to work, tightening the suction of his lips against Steve's dick and closing his eyes as he indulges.

"Now," Steve murmurs, struggling to speak evenly, even as he cranes his neck in order to look down the length of his own body, his chest rising and falling erratically as he fights his own moans, "when are you going to let me return the favor and then some?"

Danny just purses his lips together, placing a kiss to the very tip of Steve's dick, like it needs its own love too, and casts his eyes up to Steve's face. "You haven't come yet. You're not even allowed to think about retribution til you come."

"You want me to?" Steve asks, almost taking it as a challenge the longer he looks at Danny, drawing his lower lip in underneath his teeth, shifting his weight up to prop himself on both elbows. "Because it's not going to take much at all now, Danny. Not much at all."

Danny grins as he shifts back onto the bed and widens his legs. He's still got his boxers on and he positions himself just in the right place so that when he rocks down, he catches a little bit of friction, but mostly he's giving Steve the edge that he needs. "Come on. We're young. We got more than one round in us."

Steve groans, head tipping back, one arm reaching around, his hand sliding down the length of Danny's back and lower, to cup his ass and squeeze, as his hips arch up to create a slow rocking motion and he leans in to kiss his partner again, his groans rising in pitch as he gets closer and closer. "Fuck, Danny."

Danny tips his head to one side to draw out the kiss. It's been a long time since he's done this, a long time, and he's not even talking about sex with a guy. He hasn't had sex, period, since he and Rachel had the quickie before the divorce. So yeah, it's been a long time. By the time Steve is on edge, Danny is panting desperately, kissing him harder.

He can't keep up the kiss, not now, but he's still breathing against Danny's lips, eyes squeezed shut, hips thrusting and rolling, and it's almost enough and then Danny's there, rocking down against him and wanting this just as bad. It's all too much, and Steve comes with a shout, the sound muffled when he bites down on his own lower lip, chin tipping back.

Danny doesn't let Steve get too far away. He chases after him, mounting his body a little further and kissing him again, just when he's trying to get hold of himself again. "God," Danny exhales shakily. "Trust you to excel at sex, too."