Sniffing and smelling nothing that seemed remotely antiseptic, Martin determined that he definitely wasn't in a hospital, and he was thankful for that small favor. But if he wasn't in a hospital, then why did his head hurt? And where the Hell was he?
As his body adjusted to a wakeful state of being, Martin realized that he really had to pee. Of course, that meant getting up, and that was going to hurt. Steeling himself, Martin began to sit up, hoping that once he opened his eyes, he'd know where he was and could find a bathroom. Moving slowly didn't hurt all that much, as Martin did his best to not move his head at all. There was something holding him down, and Martin slowly opened his eyes and saw that he was in a bed and under the covers. To be more precise, in the dimness of the room, he could see that he was in *his* bed, and under his own covers. At least, he thought he was in his own room. It was possible that someone else had a bedroom as boring as his, but he somehow doubted it.
Martin pushed the covers aside, hissing as that movement jarred his head and caused yet more pain. What was wrong with him? Martin slowly turned so that he could get his feet on the floor, and he tried to remember the last thing he'd been doing.
"Ah, shit…" Martin muttered as images seemed to rush at him, most of them bad. Chris going missing, him confessing to Jack that he'd been with Chris and then leaving for Denver with Danny, meeting Vin Tanner, who aside from looking just like him, was most likely was a relative, talking with Buck Wilmington about Chris, dinner with Team 7, Danny acting like an ass, Danny kissing him, licking him, biting him…pushing him away. And then Danny trying to explain himself and all Martin could hear was "I don't trust you." Then came Martin's decision to drink himself to death, which judging by the pain in his head, had almost happened. Or at least he was wishing that it had happened.
As Martin got to his feet, he tried to remember more, and by the time he got to his bathroom, he had flashes of getting back to the hotel room, then being in an airport and on the plane, and then Jack meeting them at the airport. Jack had cleaned his bite, put antiseptic ointment on it and bandaged it, then put him to bed.
Frowning, Martin turned on the light, squinting against the sudden brightness, and took care of the business at hand, not really remembering Jack or anyone else dressing him in the T-shirt and sweats he was currently wearing. Maybe it had been Danny? The man who didn't trust him, yet claimed to love him. As if. Contradictions like that seemed to be the bane of Martin's life.
Martin flushed the toilet and washed his hands, then tried to find something to take care of his hangover. Shaking out four ibuprofen tablets into his hand, Martin turned the water back on and swallowed all four caplets, then drank straight from the faucet to wash them down. It hurt to bend his head down like that, but Martin was willing to put up with that discomfort since it meant that the pain would soon be eased. He then brushed his teeth, glad to get the cottony feeling gone.
As Martin tapped the excess water out of the toothbrush, he pondered on whether to crawl back into bed or try to wake up even more. He hadn't even looked at the clock when he'd gotten out of bed, so aside from knowing it was late enough to make his apartment dim, he had no idea what time it was. Going back to bed and burrowing under the covers sounded tempting, but the sensible part of his brain reminded him that it had been a long time since he'd last eaten, and going any longer without food wasn't going to do much to help his headache go away. Come to think of it, Martin wasn't really sure when he last ate. He remembered having dinner with Team 7, and then munching on popcorn while watching the game with Danny, and a vague memory of something with syrup, but he really wasn't sure just what it was that he ate. Breakfast on the plane, most likely. God, he must have really been drunk on his ass if he couldn't remember that. Then again, most airplane meals were tasteless, so maybe it was best that he didn't remember what he'd eaten.
Resigned to staying awake, Martin reached for the soap and washed his face. The cool water felt good against his skin, and made him consider the idea of a cool, not cold, shower. He began to strip, not having to take off much since he was only wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants. And he really didn't want to know why he wasn't wearing any underwear, nope, that line of thought just made his stomach queasy, especially with the chance that it had been Jack who'd dressed him for bed.
After adjusting the water so it would be lukewarm, Martin stepped into the tub, pulling the curtain closed behind him. He leaned into the spray, shuddering at first as the water hit his skin, then stepping fully into the spray as his body became acclimated to the temperature. It did feel good, and Martin simply stood there for minutes, just letting the water wash over him and doing all he could to empty his mind. When he finally did feel the inclination to move again, he first upped the hot water, getting the water warm, and then he washed his hair and body. Glancing down at his body and the marks left there, Martin smiled slightly as he remembered how he'd gotten those marks. And then his eyes went to the bandage and the smile turned into a frown. That was not a pleasant memory at all, even though it could have been. Why did Danny Taylor have to be so damn stubborn? Martin yanked the sodden bandage away, hissing as it pulled at his skin, but the pain didn't really bother him all that much. Not the physical pain, anyway. It was the emotional pain that hurt the most, knowing that Danny cared, had wanted him, and then rejected him out of some kind of self-sacrificing bullshit that Martin still didn't quite understand. Why couldn't Danny see that he wasn't anything like his father? That biting him and liking it was not the same out of getting a thrill out of beating the crap out of your own wife and children?
And the words, 'I don't trust you' kept echoing in Martin's head. Danny didn't trust himself, and he didn't trust Martin. Martin wasn't sure which hurt the worst, that Danny cared enough about him to not want to risk hurting him, or that he didn't trust him.
Martin turned off the water and rested his head against the tub enclosure. When did his life get so complicated? He'd been fine with secretly lusting after Danny and seeking out one, or two-night stands. For the most part, he'd been happy with his life, and then Chris had to walk into it, and yeah, last week he was happy, too. It had been nice to fall asleep in Chris's arms each night and then waking up the next morning with the same man. They hadn't asked for last names because they weren't needed. Martin and Chris understood one another, and that was what counted the most. And for those hours, Martin could forget about how he felt about Danny. But Ella Gaines had put an end to that when she'd kidnapped Chris, and Martin shuddered as he remembered Jack telling him over the phone that it looked as if the bitch had been behind the murder of Chris's wife and child. Chris had found himself kidnapped by an old lover who was now turning out to be a murderess. Thinking of what Chris had gone through made Martin realize that he wasn't the only person who might feel that his life had gone to Hell. Chris was definitely facing a lot of shit, and Martin knew that if he'd been held by someone who had killed his family, then he'd be about ready to tear his hair out by now. Or strangle the bitch, if someone were stupid enough to leave him alone with her.
Martin pushed the curtain open and reached for a towel, rubbing it briskly over his skin, not caring when it went over his bruises and welts a bit too hard. The pain reminded him of Chris and that was good. It wouldn't be long before those had faded, and Martin's only reminders of last week would be his memories.
Not so with the bite. Martin lightly ran his fingers over that, wondering how it was going to be like at work now. He and Danny had crossed a line, and he didn't know if they were going to be able to back up and pretend that it had never happened. He had valued Danny's friendship, and couldn't help but worry that Danny would now be distant toward him, a distance borne of Danny's fear and his knowledge of Martin's innermost desires. Maybe he should transfer out, but where would he go? D.C. was out of the question because there was no way he'd put himself that close to his father. Seattle was also out of the question because he would not take a step backward, even if it was only geographical. Hell, he liked the Missing Persons Unit, and would see just about any assignment as being a step backward. Denver? It would be nice to be there to get to know Vin Tanner better, especially if it turned out that they were related. But Chris was also in Denver, and Martin knew that he wouldn't be able to hide his attraction to the man, which wouldn't be fair to Vin. Vin deserved a chance with Chris, one without the distraction of a temporary lover hanging around. Or would that be ex-temporary lover? Ex-fuck toy? That was probably more like the truth, but didn't sound too nice. Accurate, but not nice.
Martin pulled on the sweatpants he'd slept in, leaving the shirt for when he came back to put on a new bandage, and headed for the kitchen, leaving the bathroom light on because he didn't think his headache was up to a bright apartment just yet. He was thirsty, and was just going to get a glass of water and some fruit, and then settle down on the couch and watch some TV. Let his headache have a chance to ease off before turning on more lights and fixing something more substantial to eat.
As Martin walked through the living room, he thought he heard something different. He paused, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. But no, he heard it again. A soft snoring sound was coming from his couch. The light from the bathroom wasn't enough to let Martin see over the back of his couch. He walked over to the end of it and then laughed softly as he saw that someone was curled up on the cushions. Not just any 'someone', but Danny.
Smiling, Martin went to the linen closet and took out one of the extra blankets he had stored there. Returning to the couch, Martin gently placed it over Danny, careful to not awaken him. He wasn't really sure if he should be pissed that Danny had stayed or touched by the action. Hell, Jack probably told him to stay, Martin finally reasoned. That is, if his memory of Jack being there was real. Maybe he'd dreamt that and it had been Danny who'd cleaned his bite and put the bandage on it? And that reminded Martin that he still needed to get a clean and dry bandage on the bite, but that could wait until he'd had some water. It would do the wound good to air dry, he thought.
Once more heading to the kitchen, Martin stopped when he heard a firm knock on his door. Not quite up to company, Martin hoped that whoever was there had gotten the wrong apartment and was looking for someone else. He hurried to the door, not wanting further knocking to awaken Danny. He undid the security chain, not feeling up to talking through a three inch gap and opened the door only to find himself face to face with a smiling Chris Larabee.
If someone had stopped him from opening the door and asked what he'd do if Chris was on the other side, Martin would have assured them that he'd be polite to Chris, but that was about it. He was in love with Danny, even if Danny was being an ass about things, and then there was Vin Tanner to think about. Martin would never come between Vin and Chris.
However, the reality was that the second Martin saw Chris, he felt weak in the knees and his cock immediately began to harden. Chris just had that effect on him, always had. Martin probably could have handled that though, if not for the fact that Chris stepped forward into his personal space, put an arm around his waist and began to kiss him as if he'd been starved for affection his entire life.
And God help him, Martin couldn't keep himself from kissing back. Or from parting his lips and giving Chris full access to his mouth. He was vaguely aware of the door shutting, and then a warm hand found its way down the back of his pants, cupping his ass, Chris's hand cool against his warmer skin.
"God, I missed you so much," Chris said once he came up for air. His free hand came up, and he traced Martin's jaw with his thumb, that smile still on his face. "I lost track of how many laws I broke trying to find you."
Having Chris's hand on his ass made it a bit difficult to think, but once Martin had registered Chris's words, he found himself looking at the man in confusion. "Why?"
Chris softly laughed, "You would ask that, wouldn't you? I missed you, Martin. I had our last night all planned out, with a few surprises. And then when Ella grabbed me…well, I found out that the idea of never seeing you again just didn't sit right with me. I made up my mind then that if I got out of her place alive, I'd find you. Turned out to be easier than I expected to find out who you were, but a Hell of a lot trickier than I expected to actually find you."
Chris pulled Martin closer until their bodies touched and Martin could easily feel Chris's cock pressing against him despite the layers of clothing between them. Chris traced Martin's lips with his finger, then lowered his hand to the waistband of Martin's pants.
"Lose this," Chris said, his voice husky. "I need you, and I need you now."
Chris's hand then slipped under the waistband of Martin's sweats, sliding along Martin's hip until it reached his cock, and Chris wasted no time in grasping it firmly, and Martin heard himself moaning.
Oh, God, it felt so good, so right to be with Chris and do what he wanted. But there was Danny…oh, shit, Danny was right there in the living room! And Vin, who wasn't there, but Chris needed to know that Vin loved him, and Martin just couldn't do this. If only he'd never met Vin, then yeah, he could have. He could have let himself believe that Danny would never touch him again and let Chris have his way.
"Chris, I can't. We can't…ooohhh…" Martin bit back a moan as Chris's hand moved lower and firmly grasped his balls, giving them a hard, slow squeeze.
"There's Danny, and…I can't think when you do that…there's Vin…please, Chris…we can't."
"You need to take your hands out of Martin's pants, step back and listen to him, Larabee."
Martin moaned again, but this time it was because of the hard tone in Danny's voice, and not because of anything Chris was doing. Chris didn't move a muscle. Instead he looked over Martin's shoulder toward the couch and then he moved, his hands squeezing Martin's ass and balls, eliciting a whimper from him.
"I take it that you're Danny?"
"That's right. And I'm not gonna tell you again. Get your hands off Martin, or there won't be much left of you to send back to Denver. That would break Vin's heart, but from what I'm seeing, you don't seem to care too much about that."
"You threatening me?"
Chris sounded more amused than upset, which was okay by Martin, because he was now feeling upset enough for the two of them. How dare Danny stand there and say that, as if he had a right to Martin's affections and body! Danny had made it clear that he wasn't going to be with him, and as far as Martin was concerned, that meant that Danny had no say about who he was with. Not now, not ever.
Martin began to squirm and Chris loosened the grips he had on Martin's body enough so that Martin could turn until he was looking at Danny. Danny was up from the couch and standing just a few feet away, looking determined and a little bit angry. For some reason, that made Martin even angrier than before. Danny had no right to be angry with him or Chris.
"Danny, that's enough. You made your feelings perfectly clear last night, remember? Who I'm with or what I do with that person is no business of yours. You have no business coming in here and threatening Chris."
Danny's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me, but I didn't just come in here, Martin. I've been here ever since Jack and I hauled your ass home from the airport. I stayed here to make sure that you were okay and that you didn't choke on your own vomit or something. But you know what? You want me gone, I'm outta here. Just don't come complaining to me about how horrible you feel the next time you see Vin and are feeling guilty because you were busy spreading your legs for the man he loves."
"Excuse me?"
Martin ignored Chris's comment as he watched Danny sit back down on the couch and bend over, apparently putting on his shoes. "Oh, that's classic, Danny, just classic. You lead me on and then dump me and now act as if you're on the high ground here! Well, you can just kiss that idea goodbye! I'd never betray Vin that way, and you know it. Or maybe you don't, in which case, I'd say that's a far better reason for you to not get involved with me than that cock and bull psychological crap you were spouting last night."
"Excuse me?" Chris tried again, and this time he tightened the hand that was still holding onto Martin's balls, reminding Martin that Chris still had one of his hands inside his sweats. "Vin loves me?"
Martin didn't like to be interrupted when he was trying to get his point across, but on a good day, and in certain places, such as work, he'd put up with it. However, on a bad day, and in other places, such as his own home, he wasn't going to let it pass.
Growling, Martin twisted his body and took a step to the side even as he grabbed Chris's arm and pulled it up and out of his pants. "Stay out of this, Chris."
A few feet away, Danny smirked as he watched, and that just seemed to make Martin even angrier. After the weekend he'd had, he wasn't in a good mood, and everything that should have resulted in good memories was now tainted. The time with Chris was tainted with the possibility that he was related in some way to Chris's friend, Vin, and Martin wasn't even going to go into the fact that Vin was in love with Chris. Then Martin had found himself finally getting together with Danny, only to have Danny stop things suddenly and then come up with some stupid reason. On top of that, Danny seemed to think that he had some say in Martin's life, and was now resorting to threats and insults in order to keep that position.
Truth was, if Martin had given in to Chris, which he most likely would have if Danny hadn't been there, then he would have been feeling guilty about it, and the fact that Danny had picked up on that just pissed him off even more. Of course, none of this would be an issue at all if Chris hadn't tracked him down and then tried to fuck him right there in his own entryway.
"You." Martin said, pointing to Danny and giving him an intense glare. "You've got some nerve, Taylor, and while there are some days when it comes in handy, today is not one of those days. You need to leave, and you need to leave now."
Martin then turned his gaze and finger to Chris. "And you. I don't know how you found me, and right now I don't care. You've got someone back in Denver who's in love with you, and you need to give some thought to that before you go around fucking the first guy you see who happens to look like Vin Tanner. I really didn't appreciate hauling my ass off to Denver only to come face to face with someone who could be my twin, and I don't know what kind of a sick game you were playing, Chris, but right now, I don't care. It's over. Get out."
Both Danny and Chris stood there, looking at Martin with amused expressions on their faces, and Martin felt himself being pushed to the edge by that.
Martin went to the door and opened it, standing to one side so that they could leave. "I told you both to get out, and I meant it. Out. Now."
Danny's amused smile turned into a smirk. "You're still drunk, aren't you?" He chuckled slightly, then shook his head. "I tell you what. You really should get some more sleep, get fully sober, and then we'll talk. Larabee can just come back later."
"I don't think so," Chris said, his amused look now replaced by one that clearly said that Danny had lost his mind. That was a sentiment that Martin could agree with, and probably would if not for the fact that he was also pissed off at Chris right then.
"You can both go and *not* come back," Martin said. He stepped between both men, taking them by the elbows and escorted them to the door. "Bye."
Moving quickly, Martin released their arms, took a few steps back and slammed the door closed. He couldn't hold back the smile that appeared when he heard a few muffled cries of pain from the other side. Knowing that the door automatically locked, Martin headed for his kitchen, actually making it there this time. He poured himself a glass of water, then drank it down while ignoring the knocking at the door. They could knock until their knuckles bled, Martin thought. It would serve them right, coming into his home and treating him like that. He poured another glass of water, then walked to his bedroom, the idea of watching TV no longer appealing. What was appealing was crawling back under the covers until the two clowns went away and left him alone. Or else they ended up being hauled away by the cops after his neighbors called the police because they were making too much noise. If Danny were lucky, then Jack would bail him out, probably bail Chris out, too. He grinned as he found himself hoping that neither man would get lucky enough to find a sucker to bail them out.
Feeling much better despite the lingering hangover, Martin closed his eyes, hoping to get some more sleep and lose the headache. He did his best to put his worries aside, despite knowing that they'd be there when he woke up later, but for right now, he wasn't having to deal with Danny and his sex appeal and his phobias or Chris and his sex appeal and his own feelings of guilt over being attracted to Chris when he knew that someone else was in love with the man. Then there was the whole bit of feeling guilty over being attracted to Chris while Danny was in the room, and knowing that Danny cared, even if he was being a stupid ass. Something had to give, and Martin was quickly on the way to deciding that it wasn't going to be him this time.
Part Twenty-one