Martin smiled slightly as he remembered the first time he ever saw Danny Taylor. It wasn't his first day on the job, but a few weeks earlier, when he'd come in to have his interview with Jack. He'd stepped out of the elevator and as he walked over to the receptionist, he'd spotted a man standing at the desk, talking animatedly with the woman. Both of them were laughing, and Martin thought that the man's laugh was the most wonderful sound he'd ever heard. He was looking forward to meeting this man, but before he neared the area, the guy left, walking briskly away and was out of sight by the time Martin reached the receptionist. But he'd seen enough of the guy to feed his fantasies, and between that night and his first day at work, that unknown man with the wonderful laugh had featured in many a dream and jerking off session. So, yeah, it was corny, but he'd wanted Danny from the first moment he saw him. Funny how that seemed so similar to what had happened with Chris, because Martin had wanted Chris from the first moment he saw him, too. And while Martin had found himself sexually attracted at first sight to other guys, it wasn't that same kind of want and need that he'd felt with Danny and Chris. Once he'd actually met each man, that want and need had blossomed into something more. With Danny, he could now admit to himself that time had turned that want and need into love. With Chris…well, it wasn't love, but Martin couldn't deny that he had genuine feelings for the man, cared about him and what happened to him.
Martin cared about whether or not Danny was happy or sad. He cared about how Danny saw him and what he thought about him. While it had bothered him to have Jack giving him the third degree and a lecture, Martin hadn't really been all that concerned about the repercussions. If they came, then they came. Yeah, he wanted Jack to think well of him, but he knew that his life was still worthwhile if that didn't happen. With Danny though, it was different. Danny's opinion mattered one Hell of a lot, and Martin had felt that he'd finally earned the other man's respect. And now it was gone, and that knowledge felt like a hot knife in Martin's gut.
Jack had been right. He'd never needed to tell Danny about Chris. With the way things turned out, it hadn't made a difference. If he'd have kept his mouth shut, then Danny wouldn't be on the other side of that wall hating his guts right then, and Martin wouldn't be sitting there like a bump on a log and feeling as if his world was collapsing around him.
There had to be a way to fix things, but Martin had no idea what that way might be. He could apologize, but had no idea what to apologize about. He could claim temporary insanity, but that would only explain one night, and not five, and it sure as Hell couldn't explain what he'd done with the waiter.
Martin got to his feet, thinking that the one thing he could do right then was shower as planned. He then noticed that he'd forgotten to bring his sleeping clothes with him, and he sure as Hell wasn't going to shower and then go back into the other room in just a towel. It was bad enough that Danny felt disgusted by what Martin had done with Chris, he didn't need Danny to think that Martin was trying to come on to him. Funny how knowing someone's sexual orientation changed things. Just that morning, and on other trips, Danny and he had never had any problems with being in front of each other in just towels or their underwear. But now Martin knew that Danny would think twice before exposing himself that much if Martin was in the room, and he sure as Hell wouldn't trust Martin being dressed in just a pair of boxers or a towel.
Sighing, he headed back into the other room, hoping that Danny wouldn't be too upset that he was back so soon. He headed directly to the dresser, noting that his drawer was still open. As he reached down to grab his T-shirt and sweatpants, Martin risked a glance to the side and saw that Danny was seated near the head of his own bed, eyes downcast. The man appeared to be deep in thought, and Martin decided it was best to just leave him be. After pushing the drawer closed, he turned to head back into the bathroom.
"Martin."
Martin paused as he heard Danny softly say his name, but he didn't dare look his way. If there was derision in those dark eyes, then he didn't want to see it. "Yeah?"
"I'm sorry." Danny's voice was still soft, but Martin could hear the sincerity there. He was about to assure Danny that he had nothing to apologize for when Danny spoke again. "I'm sorry that I misunderstood you last night, and I'm sorry that I reacted so badly just now to finding out about you and Larabee. But I'm the most sorry about the fact that I wasn't there for you today when you needed a friend. If I'd have understood you last night, then you wouldn't have had to endure all of this alone."
Martin finally turned to look at Danny. The man had gotten to his feet and was looking intently at him; and it wasn't derision that Martin saw in Danny's eyes, but hope. He nodded. "I should have explained things better last night. I just…when you said 'okay', I grabbed onto that, glad that I didn't have to say anything else. It's as much my fault as yours."
"Sometimes miscommunication happens," Danny said, a slight smile now on his face. "Still friends?"
Martin's heart leapt for joy at hearing that question, and he smiled back. Danny still wanted to be his friend, and that was more than Martin could have hoped for a few minutes ago. He nodded, "Still friends."
Danny nodded, then tilted his head toward the direction of the bathroom. "You'd better go on and get that shower. I think there's a game on tonight, and we can catch most of it if you hurry it up in there. I'll even spring for some popcorn and soda for us from the vending machines down the hall. I did promise you dessert."
Martin grinned. "Sounds good to me. I'll make it fast."
Still grinning, Martin headed back into the bathroom, only this time he didn't lock the door. They'd never locked one another out before when sharing a room, and Martin didn't really see the need to start doing so now. Now he could see that Danny didn't have a problem with him also liking men as well as, or more than women, and there wasn't any reason to turn the lock as a way to reassure Danny that he didn't have designs on his body.
But oh, if only that were true. Martin had plenty of designs on Danny's body, but the one thing that hadn't changed between them was Danny's heterosexuality. Finding out that Martin liked men would have been the perfect opportunity for Danny to admit it if he had feelings for Martin. So, since Danny hadn't sat Martin down to declare his burning lust, or, as happened in some of Martin's fantasies, his undying love for him, he could only assume that Danny wasn't interested at all.
As Martin turned on the water, he thought it somewhat ironic that despite all that had changed for him over the past 48 hours, having Danny's friendship had remained steady. Maybe that was a sign that everything else would turn out all right, given enough time. He quickly showered, washing his hair as well as his body. As he began to dry his body, he thought about shaving, but decided that it could wait until the morning. Well, at least his face could wait until then. He ran a hand over his groin, feeling the new growth and knew that by morning, he'd be itching there. It only took a few minutes to shave his groin and scrotum, and by then he was smelling popcorn, courtesy of the small microwave in the room.
Martin pulled on the T-shirt and pants, then gathered up his dirty boxers, socks and pants and headed into the main room. Danny was seated on one bed, with the pillows from both beds braced against the headboard. The bag of popcorn was beside him, and he'd gotten chocolate bars as well as sodas. Danny patted the open space on the other side of the bed.
"Saved your spot," Danny said, "And the game's about to start."
Martin opened the drawer and shoved his clothing inside, then quickly shut it and crawled over the bed to the spot Danny had indicated. The habit of getting comfortable on one bed to watch a game or a movie had started about a year earlier, when Martin had flown out to San Diego to join Danny in an investigation. They were still getting used to each other then, but had found themselves both agreeing on watching a movie that first night. That room also had a microwave in it, and Martin had seen microwaveable popcorn in the vending machine earlier, so it had been natural to suggest having popcorn while watching the movie. The only problem was that with each of them sitting on his own bed, the popcorn had to be constantly passed back and forth. It had been Danny who'd asked Martin to toss his pillows over to him and Martin had done so, then watched as Danny positioned them in some particular way that only Danny could manage. At least that's what Danny claimed every time Martin tried to set up a bed for their TV watching. He always found some fault or another with the way Martin arranged the pillows, and would have to pick them up, fluff them out, and then arrange them to his own satisfaction. To Martin's eyes, it always looked as if Danny put the pillows back in the same way that he'd put them in the first place, but Danny swore that that was never the case.
Martin relaxed against the pillows, smiling his thanks as Danny handed him one of the soda cans. Danny looked relaxed as well, and Martin felt very grateful for that. He didn't know what he would have done if Danny had seemed ill at ease with him now that he knew the truth.
The game was at half-time when Danny noticed that Martin was no longer reaching into the popcorn bag. Not that there was much popcorn left, but Martin was usually the one to finish off the bag when they shared, and there was still a bit in there. Turning his head slightly because he didn't want to seem obvious, Danny tried to get a look at his partner. And he broke into a smile as he saw that Martin was propped up against the pillows, sound asleep. Danny reached out and gently removed the soda can before it ended up being spilled, and he sat it on the nightstand, then got the popcorn bag out of the way.
Twisting his body slightly, Danny was able to look at Martin without straining his neck. It never failed to amaze him just how young Martin looked while he was asleep. Granted, Martin looked younger than his age anyway, but when asleep, even more years seemed to peel away. The worries, guilt and responsibilities that Martin carried with him during the day would fade away at night, leaving him looking peaceful and content. And Danny couldn't help but wonder if Martin looked that content when he orgasmed for Chris Larabee.
He'd promised himself that if Martin forgave him for being an ass, then he wouldn't obsess about Martin and Larabee again. So much for promises. But damn, it just made him ache deep inside when he looked at Martin and knew that he'd never be his. Martin worked hard at building a pretty sturdy wall around himself, but Danny had cracked that wall within months of them meeting, and he'd felt so damn proud of that, too. No-one else at work, not Jack, not Samantha, and not even Vivian, their resident mother hen, had cracked that wall. Oh, Martin would play nice with them, be the good son of the Deputy Director and do his family proud, but only Danny was able to get past that and get the real Martin Fitzgerald to appear. That's why it had broken his heart to watch Martin creep out of the bathroom earlier, his manner screaming defeat and sadness. That wasn't Martin. Hell, it wasn't Martin who told him that it was just as much his fault as Danny's. It wasn't Martin who accepted the olive branch with a smile and a nod. Nope. The real Martin was more like the one who'd glared at Standish during dinner, not caring if the man squirmed for hours as he waited for Martin to accept his apology. Hell, he'd been on the receiving end of that glare more times than he'd care to admit, and when Danny had made his apology, he'd been expecting that glare. He'd also been expecting Martin to at least tell him to go to Hell, but that hadn't happened, either.
Danny figured that this whole thing with Larabee, not just the case itself, but meeting Larabee's friends, had thrown Martin off of his game. Danny smiled slightly as he imagined the greeting Martin would give him on Monday morning, once he'd gotten plenty of rest and had more time to put this all behind him. Yeah, Martin would really let him have it, and he wouldn't be placated at all by the coffee that Danny was already planning to bring to the man. And bagels…no scratch the bagels. Just the coffee at first, and then he'd treat Martin to lunch. Maybe he could get a line on tickets for the next Nets game? Martin liked basketball and the Nets, and would enjoy going to one of their games. Yeah, coffee, lunch and tickets to the Nets. That would put him back in Martin's good graces by Wednesday at the latest.
Taking advantage of the fact that Martin was a fairly sound sleeper, Danny reached out and ran the backs of his fingers over Martin's cheek, not at all surprised when Martin's head turned toward his touch. He'd snuck many a secret caress, and each time the result had been the same, with Martin's head turning into his touches. It broke Danny's heart to know that Martin was apparently starved for love and affection, and his own heart ached to be the one to make all of that better.
"God, Martin," Danny softly said, "It feels as if I've lost you before I ever had you." There really was a feeling of loss there for Danny, one that almost numbed him, it was so intense. It would have been far better if he'd never have learned about Martin's attraction to men, because then nothing would have changed. He'd have known that Martin was off-limits because he was straight and not interested, period. He'd grown accustomed to that feeling, and could handle it. But now that he knew that Martin liked men, but didn't want him that way, Danny couldn't help but feel slighted. Rejected, even. He'd prided himself on how well he'd come to know Martin, but now Danny felt as if he didn't know the man at all. How could he have missed that Martin liked men? Or that Martin was as much of a submissive as that room service waiter had implied?
Danny liked to top, liked to dominate the man he was with, and that was an area where his pride had obviously led to his downfall. Danny had bragged more than once that he could look at a guy and tell whether or not he was willing to submit to another, willing to give himself up to the pleasures of another man. Of course, in reality, it was far more involved than that. Danny pondered over a popular term - dynamic power exchange. While most people viewed the tops or doms as having the power, it was really the subs who wielded it. A top or dom didn't do anything that the sub had not first agreed to, and by placing that much trust in the top, the man did all he could to honor that trust. A top also had the duty of making certain that the sub was safe. Well, as safe and unharmed as a person could be who was giving his body up to be whipped or hurt in some other way.
Danny pulled his hand away and shook his head as he heard a soft sound of protest from Martin. There Martin was, craving touch and affection, and totally ignoring the person in front of him who was so willing to give those things to him. Another sound from Martin caught Danny's attention, and he looked more carefully at Martin, then noticed the bulge beneath the sweatpants. Probably dreaming about Larabee, Danny thought bitterly. Damn lucky bastard to have had Martin, and now headed back home to Tanner, who looked just as fine as Martin. A damn lucky man, indeed.
Danny decided to let Martin have some privacy for his dream, and going to take a shower would give him that privacy. It would also give Danny a chance to take himself into his own hand, and get some release since watching Martin becoming aroused had given Danny's own cock a lot of ideas. And all of them seemed to involve Martin, clearly indicating that his cock had not yet gotten the memo that Martin was still off-limits.
Danny rolled to his other side and started to get up from the bed, but another sound from Martin made him stop. He could have sworn that Martin had muttered a name, and not just any name, but *his* name. Turning slightly, Danny looked back over at his sleeping partner, and by then it was even more apparent that Martin was having a really great wet dream. Martin was making the sweetest moaning noises Danny had ever heard, and his back even arched slightly, which just drew Danny's attention more fully on the erection that was pressing hard against that thick cotton material. Then it happened, Martin spoke again, and there was no doubt at all that it was his name that Martin was saying. Danny grinned at that. Martin might have enjoyed Chris Larabee during his waking hours, but it was him, Danny Taylor, who seemed to be the main attraction during Martin's dream time.
The only thing that Danny wasn't sure about was if this was just some projection of Martin's sub-conscious, which would mean that Martin didn't consciously want him, but would have to be led slowly to the realization that he did. Or was it that Danny had just missed all the signs and Martin DID want him? Unable to resist, Danny rested his palm along the bulge of Martin's pants. "Damn, Martin…you are gonna be the death of me, you know that?" Danny could feel the heat of Martin's cock through the material, and he was finding it difficult to ignore the desire to finally see that cock.
"Danny?"
"Yeah, babe, I'm here." Danny slid his hand up to the waistband, touching the bit of skin that was showing between the top of the pants and the hem of Martin's T-shirt. That skin was warm, too, and soft, yet Danny could so easily feel the underlying muscles.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking what's mine," Danny replied as his fantasy began to play out. It wasn't until he spread his fingers out over Martin's belly that he realized that it hadn't been his imagination providing Martin's question, but Martin himself. Looking up, Danny found himself gazing into two very confused eyes. But, at least they weren't angry eyes, Danny told himself, finding some reassurance with that. And Martin wasn't trying to move away, either. More importantly, Martin's erection hadn't eased one bit, which to Danny was a sure sign that Martin liked having Danny's hand right where it was.
Smiling slightly, Danny slid his hand under Martin's shirt, skimming the skin while he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Martin's belly. Turning his head, Danny looked intently at Martin, and his smile grew broader as he watched Martin's eyes turn a much darker blue. His fingers found Martin's nipple, and he lightly raked his fingernails over the taut nub. "I want to see you naked."
Martin gasped softly, but his eyes never left Danny's. "Oh."
"Yeah. Sit up and let's get this shirt off of you." Danny brought his hand back down and he grasped the hem of the shirt, ready to pull it up and off once Martin sat up. Martin's eyes darted from his face to his hands, then back to his face, as if he was trying to assess the situation. Danny tugged on the hem, "C'mon. Off with it, Fitzie."
Martin closed his eyes for a moment, and when he reopened them, he sat up as well, and Danny went into action, quickly moving the shirt up Martin's body and then off. Danny tossed the shirt to the side before straddling Martin's thighs. They were face to face now, and Danny didn't waste any time before kissing the lips that he'd spent so much time dreaming about. They both moaned, and Danny ran his tongue over Martin's bottom lip, then quickly thrust it into Martin's open mouth. Tongues tangled, vying for control, tasting, caressing, probing. And then Martin's resistance disappeared, letting Danny do as he wished, and he wished to do a lot to Martin's mouth. He ran his tongue over as much of it as he could reach, tasting popcorn, chocolate and soda, mapping out each one of Martin's teeth, soothing his gums and teasing the other man's tongue. Pulling back slightly, Danny ran his tongue over Martin's full lower lip, then nipped lightly at it.
Danny pushed Martin back against the bed, acutely aware of the bulge of Martin's cock beneath his own body, but content for the moment to leave the exploration of that part of Martin's body for later. Right then, Danny wanted to taste Martin's skin and soothe away the bruises and other marks that Larabee had left behind. Moving slowly, Danny kissed his way from Martin's jaw to his neck and then downward, pausing every now and then to leave his own marks behind, ensuring that neither Martin nor anyone else could ever doubt that Martin belonged to him. And only him. Danny felt a surge of protectiveness at that thought, along with a bit of jealousy that some other man had already had Martin.
A small yelp brought Danny's attention back to the present, and he realized that he'd bitten Martin's skin a bit too hard. He looked at the impression his teeth had made, and as he watched blood slowly seep into those impressions, Danny found himself flushed with excitement, especially as he noticed that the bite hadn't done anything to curb Martin's arousal.
And then Danny's insides turned as the implications of those feelings hit him. He'd hurt Martin and liked doing it. And Martin had also enjoyed it, or so it seemed. Just as Martin had seemed to enjoy what Larabee had done to him. But he wasn't Chris Larabee. He was Danny Taylor, the man who had vowed that no matter what, he would never, ever be the same kind of man that Miquel Alvarez had been. If he was lucky enough to have a child, he'd never raise his hand to that child, never throw anything at him or her. And he'd never hurt the person he loved the way his father had done with his mother. Danny could so clearly remember his father slapping her around and laughing at her exclamations of pain.
A vow to be a good man, and here he was taking enjoyment from hurting the man he loved. Danny shook his head and then began to move away from Martin, ignoring the confused look in those beautiful blue eyes.
"This isn't right. I'm sorry, Martin." Danny went and sat on the other bed, too ashamed to even look at Martin right then. "I should have never done that to you, and I'm sorry."
Danny heard Martin moving around on the other bed, and realized that he was now seated across from him. "There's nothing to apologize for, Danny. I liked what we were doing."
Martin sounded hesitant, unsure, and Danny hated himself for making Martin feel that way. He also hated it that Martin had liked being hurt, and in that moment he hated Chris Larabee even more for being the kind of a man who took pleasure in that. There was no doubt that Danny liked to dominate his partners when having sex, and sometimes that domination would take a more physical turn. He got turned on big time when spanking a gorgeous and wriggling ass, but this was different. This thing that Martin and Larabee had shared was across the line that Danny had drawn so many years ago. Oh, he didn't fault Martin for what he liked. Danny was open-minded enough to realize that different people got off from different things. And he really couldn't fault Larabee for taking advantage of that, he'd been around enough clubs to know that there were plenty of true sexual sadists out there, and when one of them found a guy who enjoyed the pain, well, far be it for him to tell them no.
The problem was that Danny loved Martin, but despite his feelings, he knew that there was no way he'd ever be able to completely satisfy Martin. Martin would always crave the things that Danny wouldn't do, things that Danny couldn't do. And it wasn't because Danny didn't have the desire for them, because he now knew that he did, especially where Martin was concerned. The problem was that Danny wasn't willing to let himself cross that line and risk turning into his father.
"I know you did," Danny finally replied. He looked up and saw that the confusion that had been in Martin's eyes before was slowly being replaced by something else. It seemed cold, and impersonal, and Danny regretted putting that look into Martin's eyes.
"I see." Martin's voice was tight, and it tugged at Danny's heart. He wanted so much to move to the other bed and pull Martin into his arms and kiss away that hurt, but he didn't dare do it. Because kissing would lead to something else and then he'd risk losing control, and Danny couldn't allow that to happen.
Danny's eyes went to the bite mark, and he was relieved to see that while he'd raised blood, the bite wasn't freely bleeding. Martin got to his feet and walked around the bed, grabbing his T-shirt and then heading into the bathroom. The slamming of the door made Danny jump, and he felt as if he'd just made the worst mistake of his life even as he knew that he'd done what he'd had to do. Martin would just have to understand and accept that decision.
Part Fourteen