The month following his attack had been hard on Danny. He'd been in the job long enough to be jostled before, sworn at, spat at, but the memory of the knife pressed against his throat wouldn't go away. The sensation invaded his dreams, causing him to wake up almost every night and he was getting more tired by the day. Every time he swallowed he was sure he was reliving those sensations again. Eating made him retch, drinking wasn't much better and all of his pants felt looser than before his assailant had surprised him.
If he was honest that was one of the main problems, the guy had surprised him. Some low life bum off the streets had gotten the better of him and he'd probably have been lying beside Joe-whatever-his-name-was in Sid's morgue if it hadn't been for the uniformed cop who'd saved his life that evening. He'd sought him out on his first day back at work; thanking him for saving his skin and receiving a friend for life in return.
Then, of course, there was the night after the attack to worry about. Mac had given him a few days off, 'to try and accept what happened', his supervisor had said. Somehow Danny had a feeling that the acceptance and happenings at Flack's place weren't anything like his boss could ever imagine.
Flack. Just thinking his name made Danny want to groan aloud and he stared once again at the photo in his hand. When Aiden had died they'd all met for a drink, to remember her and what she'd meant to them. Lindsey had asked one of the bar guys to take a picture, something they could all have a copy of to keep the memories fresh. He hadn't even picked it up since that night, well, not until he'd come home from Don's; now he couldn't stop looking at it.
The tall, relaxed detective was at the front of the photo, his eyes smiling even though all of them had been devastated by her loss. It hadn't been long after that night when they'd thought they might have lost Don too. Not to a rapist this time, but a deranged bomber who'd wanted to send a message that New York City wasn't ready for the next terrorist attack he felt sure was coming. They were obviously more ready than the guy had thought, he'd been caught before he was able to set off any more explosives, but Don had been lying in a hospital bed by that time, fighting for his life as they fought to keep the city safe.
Now, just two days into his third week back on duty, he'd found a note in his locker. Slipped in through the air slots to lay on the floor next to his sneakers the note contained an invitation to spend his day off at Don's. That meant tomorrow and for a moment Danny had no idea if he wanted to accept or run for cover.
They had met a few times, both publicly and privately, and each time he had gone home lonely and confused. It was becoming less difficult for him to accept that he'd got himself off more than once by reliving the night they'd spent together but he still had doubts. He knew he wanted to be dominated by his stronger friend, his body ached to be touched by Don's hand. He wanted to go further, to kiss him passionately, to feel his friend's chest hair rub against his own, to take Don's cock into his mouth again, but all of it scared him half to death as well.
With a groan Danny ran his hand through his hair; he was lost, taken, spoken for, at least in his own mind when he was alone. Now all he needed was the courage to go through with what he hoped would transpire when they were together.
"I wondered if you were gonna come." Don's voice was full of the smile on his face and the warmth he reserved for his friends.
"Yeah, me too!" Danny shook his head ruefully as he stepped inside the apartment. He'd visited three or four times since his overnight stay but without things going any further than a few chaste kisses and touches and even that had sent his mind spiralling into overdrive.
"I'm glad you're here. Give me your coat and go on through." Don took the long brown jacket and indicated with his free hand as Danny made his way into the living area he had found so welcoming on his first visit. As had become his habit he flopped down on the sofa, feeling at home instantly.
"Beer, soda?" Don looked at the man he'd made love to just the once as he spoke. He'd thought he looked thin in the lab but now he was in just a t-shirt and jeans he looked almost skinny and he was glad he'd invited him over with a plan in mind.
"No, no, I'm good." Danny looked away, aware of the scrutiny he was suddenly under. He wondered what would happen if he moved across and kissed his friend, or put his hand where he knew he would feel the outline of Don's cock, rubbing it gently to make it grow hard beneath his fingers? Part of him wanted to do that more than anything but another part, the part that was finding life so hard right now, wouldn't let him move and so he sat where he was and waited wondering whether making his excuses and leaving would be too rude.
"How about coffee, that's what I'm gonna have." Don stood up, and made his way round behind the sofa, purposely brushing his hand across Danny's shoulder as he did so. The resulting shiver brought a smile to Don's lips; there had been no movement to put distance between them and instead of continuing into the kitchen Don stayed where he was his fingers gently moving across a slightly too bony shoulder blade. "I've missed you." His voice was soft, almost huskily so and he saw Danny nod his head.
"Me too. Coffee would be nice." Danny's mind was whirling and he needed a few minutes to gather himself. He knew, instantly, they needed to talk, actions alone wouldn't be enough. Maybe though it was just him and it wasn't the air that needed to be cleared, but only his mind. He knew he couldn't cope with the emotions from the attack as well as the ones Don caused. Something had to change, or be rectified, sorted, finished, he wasn't sure what.
With a groan Danny took his glasses off and leant back against the sofa. He closed his eyes and attempted to gather his thoughts. He'd tried to analyse his own feelings, how the perp made him feel, how Don made him feel, whether it was right to continue with something that would have never been possible if he hadn't been attacked, and all that happened was he got confused, depressed and determined to forget about the entire thing. That determination would last about ten seconds and then the process would begin again with him knowing he couldn't forget, not about the attack or about the feelings he'd so enjoyed afterwards. He was driving himself nuts and something had to be resolved. He just wasn't sure whether resolution would help.
"There you go."
Danny heard the clink of china against the glass coffee table and opened his eyes. He nodded, not trusting his voice to come out as confidently as he wanted it to.
"I figured we might need to talk. I know you've been over a few times but nothing's been mentioned, sure, we kissed a coupla times, and, don't get me wrong, it was nice, but, well, I think you need to talk."
"Probably, but I have no idea what to say." To his dismay Danny felt himself begin to shake, his emotions were so screwed up that his voice stayed strong but the rest of his body betrayed him.
"Hey, it's ok." Don was beside him in an instant, not too close, they weren't touching or anything, but the feel of someone else on the sofa, the sound of someone else's breathing was suddenly very comforting and, swallowing hard, he tried again.
"I ... I've never felt like this, I ... I liked what we did, no, more than that, it was one of the most intense feelings I've ever had and you were so strong, I ... I loved that best of all, but what if it was only because of that guy? What if we'd just had a beer and gone our separate ways like we planned? Maybe it wasn't meant to happen. And even if it was, hell, Don, I let myself get jumped, how can you even look at me?" He was suddenly on his feet, the words had come out at a faster and faster speed until finally he'd just had to move, had to do something to replace the act of speaking.
Don watched as his friend strode away from him, not far, but enough to leave him feeling bereft. So many problems and they had all come out at once, so many he didn't know if he could deal with them, but he sensed that if he didn't no one would. Not because they couldn't but because Danny would never let them free again. Getting to his feet himself he said a silent prayer that he would handle things right and moved towards the wall where Danny stood, his head leaning against the brickwork, his back heaving with the deep breaths he was taking.
"If you want me to answer all those questions you're gonna have to sit down." His hand rested on Danny's shoulder again; he could feel the uneven breathing, the slight shaking, and the negative feelings emanating were so strong that Don wondered whether they would overwhelm them both. He didn't move any part of himself except his thumb, which he gently rubbed along the obvious ridge of Danny's shoulder blade, and he waited.
