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#only thought of it now that danny wore the pearls as i was writing this. just for the extra reference to canon
starry-bi-sky · 4 months
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thomas wayne au excerpts - things that could've been part of a grander fic except there's no grander fic
thomas wayne au - an au i made last year where danny is literally just. thomas wayne. his full name was Daniel Thomas Fenton and he started going by Thomas Nightingale after he was disowned. because of course. here is a link to the first post if anyone wants to see a more in depth view of the au (its also the start of me using the ‘danny fenton is not the ghost king’ au lmao
additional info: bruce is the result of a failed cloning attempt from vlad - vlad used a combination of danny's dna and an unnamed girl (Martha's) to make him to try and balance out the ectoplasm use. this resulted in a slightly liminal but otherwise completely human and stable baby boy. Bruce is, by all accounts, Danny's biological son. Danny named him Bruce
Danny was 24 when he died, he took in Bruce when he was 16. He is, so far, a single father in this au. (But if I WERE to add martha she wouldn't be sam or a DP character but rather a separate character on her own.)
Essentially they would go as:
Martha, 19: water does terrifying things to corpses
Danny, 19, half ghost: *heart eyes* really? tell me more they're morticia and gomez your honor
---- Like starlight -----
Bruce's father could light up a room. He was like a sun, his gravitational field could just pull you in, and before you knew it you'd be orbiting around him like one of his many planets.
He's seen it in action before, in the rare moments Thomas Wayne would allow him to accompany him to the socialite events he went to; the fundraisers; the charities. Bruce, as tall as his father's waist, would cling to his leg and watch as people drifted towards him and his star-blinding smile.
It's fitting that his father's favorite thing in the world were stars, he fit right in with them.
As an adult, Bruce has tried copious amount of times to mimic him. To try and capture a fraction of that light, that charm, in his own act - but here's the thing. Thomas Wayne wasn't made of starlight only in front of the cameras, he was made of starlight outside of it as well.
(So when older socialites laugh and tell him he's so much like his father, Bruce just thinks they are liars. They've only ever seen the Thomas Wayne his father showed them, Bruce is nothing like his father.)
In the manor, whatever room he stepped into seemed to brighten, and maybe it was just Bruce's own child-memory fuzzing it to raise his father onto a pedestal, but he stands by it. His father was a solar system, his very own galaxy. Bruce was just the lucky planet that was close enough to orbit him.
--------- arrival time ------
Ancients, ancients, what the fuck convinced Danny to ever go to Gotham of all places? Crime Capitol of the world? He's not sure, but he's been wandering around the country for the last few months, swapping between flying late at night as Phantom, and taking the busses and trains when he had the money, and was too exhausted to fly.
And of course, what convinced him to come here with his kid no less, who was just at the cusp of turning a year old? Whose curiosity of the world was growing greater by the day? Who wanted to look around and explore, and was growing tired of being held at all hours of the day by his father.
But he was going to be held, at least for as long as they were in Gotham for. He didn't trust the stuff on the sidewalks, and he didn't trust the people walking on it. Bruce was tiny, and Danny would lose his mind if he lost him in a crowd.
In his arms, Bruce whined and wriggled, pushing at his shoulders in the signature way he did when he wanted to be let down. Danny tightened his hold, and adjusted his place on his hip.
"I know, bumblebee." Danny muttered, resting his chin on Bruce's small head. His hair was still thin, but it was dark and soft, and tickled his throat a little. "But not yet, I need to find somewhere for us to stay first."
He needed to find somewhere for them to stay, permanently. He couldn't keep living like this, and he couldn't let Bruce grow up like this either. Constantly moving, homeless, unsure of when he was going to eat next? It wasn't good for him. But he needed to find a city he liked, and after that? He wasn't sure. Where did he start?
But Bruce doesn't like his answer, he whines at him, louder, and his wriggling increases. He wants down, he wants to move. They were in a new place again, he wanted to explore. He's too little to fully understand what his dad's saying. "Dada." He said, his voice thick with the accent of a child first learning to speak.
"I know," Danny repeats, stressing the word as his eyes flitted about. There was a park nearby -- maybe he and Bruce could stop there for a bit. Bruce could move around, and Danny could figure out his next move.
It was getting dark, he didn't want to be out in Gotham when it was dark. Shuffling, he moved the inside of his jacket to wrap around Bruce better. It was getting cold, too. Last winter with Bruce had been hellish - Bruce's liminality meant that Danny's immunity to the cold hadn't been passed down to him. Danny had spent all winter terrified that Bruce was going to get sick and die. He didn't want to go through that stress again, especially now that Bruce would be moving.
He hoped they could find new living arrangements soon.
---- dniwer eht klolc - clockwork's conversation ---
Laughing quietly as Bruce ran out of the room, Danny turned his attention back to the mirror, his fingers curled around the knot of his tie. They'd been planning this outing for weeks since the movie was first announced, and Danny wasn't going to let anything ruin tonight.
Humming under his breath, his hands fell from his tie and he steps back. They were leaving in half an hour, at best, but experience from the last six years has taught Danny that he wants to be ready before then.
In his reflection, the clock behind him stops ticking, and a wave of nothing washes over him, a subtle shift he's gotten used to that was the sensation of time stopping. Ticking, soft and coming from all four sides of the room, filled his ears.
Danny's smile drops. And behind him, Clockwork swirled into existence like a blackhole reversing its pull. "Don't go out tonight, Thomas." He says, his voice stern.
That wasn't happening.
He reaches up to push back a loose strand of hair out of his face. "Does something happen to Bruce, Clockwork?" He asks, his voice deceptively calm. That would be the only reason he would postpone tonight. If it endangered Bruce, then he would just have to break the news to him that they'd have to go tomorrow.
In the reflection, Clockwork's lips thinned, pressing together tersely. He looked tense, the grip on his staff was tight, tighter than Danny's seen it before in recent years. And it worried him a little.
Clockwork is silent for a few seconds, hesitant, before he finally speaks. "No, Bruce will be fine." He says, and uncharacteristic of him, he shuffles, "But--"
Ah, good then. Danny's smile returns briefly across his face. Then it could be something Danny can handle. "But nothing then, Clockwork." He says, interrupting the Ancient firmly. He leans back slightly to look over himself again in the mirror, before going to undo his tie. He's changed his mind about it.
"Boo has been looking forward to our movie all week, I'm not crushing his hopes by changing my mind last minute." In just a few seconds the tie was off his neck and tossed onto bed behind him. And Danny was reaching over the dresser beside him to grab a pearl necklace, he normally didn't wear it, it belonged to Mrs. Wayne and he inherited it after she and Mr. Wayne passed away last year. It wouldn't hurt to wear it for a special occasion like this.
Clockwork's lips tightened, and his shoulders tensed up. "Thomas," He says lowly, "Please."
...Clockwork never said please. Danny's never heard him say please in the last ten years he's known him. This... must have been pretty serious -- but, his core tugged at him. He couldn't cancel without finding the reason why. Bruce was so important to him, Danny couldn't break his heart with this without learning why. He wouldn't allow it, and neither would his core.
He hooks the necklace around his neck and turns to face Clockwork, frowning deeply. "Does something happen tonight?" If he knew the reason -- he just needed to know the reason.
Clockwork stares at him, and something that Danny can't catch appears across his face. "...I cannot tell you." He says after a long moment, his voice quiet.
That... is not the answer Danny wants. He won't cancel.
He frowns. "If something happens tonight..." He says slowly -- Clockwork said that Bruce is unharmed. That must mean Danny was able to handle it. He allows himself to smile reassuringly, and he steps forward to clap a hand on Clockwork's shoulder. "Then I will handle it, alright? I promise."
He gets no response back. Clockwork's expression unreadable as he nods silently - Danny's anxiety curls in his gut. He's being so unlike himself. But he shakes Clockwork's shoulder gently and steps around him, leaving the room.
After a minute, he feels time return to normal.
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They Do Protest
The rules for the prom are that couples must wear suits and dresses, and Harris is determined to make sure that those rules are followed despite the fact that Cora detests wearing dresses. Stiles, however, has a plan.
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“Couples must wear suits and dresses,” Lydia recited, dropping her face into her hands.  “Harris was addiment on it.”
Cora sat across from her, her eyes focused on the table between them. She was hugging herself, shifting slightly in her seat.
“Cora,” Lydia started slowly, but her words fell short of her lips.
“It’s fine,” Cora muttered, not looking up at them.
“No, it’s not,” Stiles objected. “It’s not fair that you should feel uncomfortable because Harris feels threatened when someone doesn’t obey his archaic gender norms.”
The pack all turned, staring at Stiles with matching shocked expressions.
“What?” Stiles said.
Isaac brushed it off. He reached out and set his hand on Cora’s shoulder. “I’ll talk to Coach, or Miss Morell, someone will listen.”
Stiles slouched back against the wall, turning the piece of paper over in his hands. He looked down at the rules, reading the over again.
FORMAL DRESS CODE:
Students are expected to dress in formal attire, either a suit or a dress that meets the following criteria:
Full length dress, tuxedo, or suit must be worn appropriately.  No sagging pants or jeans.
Collared dress shirt with long sleeves, worn with a tie/bow tie (exception: tux shirt with a decorative button). Shirts must remain on & tucked in for the entire dance.
Must wear jackets or blazers with suits, not just shirts or vests.
Formal dresses cannot be shorter than fingertip length with arms fully extended.
Dress slits may not be higher than fingertip length with arms fully extended.
Bare midriffs and plunging necklines are not allowed. No cut outs. Two-piece top/skirt, outfits must cover midriff.
No see-through material that exposes midriff, excessive cleavage, or thighs.
The back of the dress may not be lower than the middle of the back or bra.
No bandanas, chains, baseball caps, or canes.
No matter how many times he read the same words, it still made his blood boil.
He turned the piece of paper over in his hands, again and again. He froze, a thought striking him. He read over the rules one more time.
“Lydia,” he said, looking across the room to where the strawberry-blonde sat. “What were Harris’s exact words?”
“‘Couples must wear suits and dresses’,” Lydia quoted.
A devilish smirk played across his lips, his eyes lit up with a glint of mischief as he said, “I have an idea.”
“You do realise that for this to work, everyone has to get on board,” Lydia pointed out.
“We could everyone on our side,” Isaac said.
“What about Jackson?” Erica asked.
“And Derek,” Boyd added.
“I’ll lean on Jackson,” Lydia said, a hint of finality in her voice.
“I’ll talk to Derek,” Cora volunteered.
Scott looked around at his friends. “This might just work.”
“Of course it’s going to work,” Stiles scoffed. “It’s my plan.”
The school gym had been transformed. Long ribbons of flowing white fabric had been draped from the ceiling, radiating from the central point in the room and pinned back against the walls so that the middle hung slightly and the ends cascaded down the walls like curtains of falling water. The parts where the fabric had been pinned to the ceiling or to the walls were decorated with hanging strands of crystal-like beads, the glass chunks shimmering and glinting as they caught the light.
The pack had gathered off to the side.
Stiles couldn’t help but smile as he looked around at his classmates. If he was being honest, he never would have thought they’d go through with it. He expected to turn up and see only the pack sticking to the plan. But Lydia had seemed to work her magic; she’d convinced the school to flip the dress code for prom: girls wore suits, and guys wore dresses.
Stiles was dressed in a flowing white chiffon dress with pink peonies pained on it. It had a split in the front that let the fabric drift freely around his legs and stopped him from tripping over the hem. The skirt gathered around his slender waist, accentuating the dip of the V-neck and delicate shoestring straps.
Cora stood beside him, dressed in a fitted navy-blue tuxedo and looking fabulous. A radiant smile lit up her face. The lapels were decorated with gold embroidery and beading that matched Isaac’s outfit.
Isaac wore a two-piece dress made of velvety navy-blue material. The top was drawn into a Grecian neckline and covered in gold lace and beading. The waistband of the skirt hugged his slim waist, high enough that barely a centimetre of his pale skin was left exposed. The hem of the skirt was higher at the front, sitting at his knees while the back sat around his heels, revealing the pattern of the same gold detailing, beading and lace that ran along the inside hem of the skirt.
Scott stood beside him, wearing a two-tone dress that had a silver-beaded top and a flowing purple silk skirt. He had his arm around Allison’s waist, gently tugging at her black suit jacket to pull her closer and smiling as he nuzzled his face into her shoulder.
Boyd wore a forest-green dress, simple and elegant. The A-line skirt flowed from his hips, the top held up by the asymmetrical strap that was decorated with lace. He still managed to look powerful, like a Roman soldier.
His dress matched Erica’s tie and the faint embroidered pattern of the suit she wore. She and Boyd had had their matching outfits planned for months, so it was as easy as swapping, and adjusting the sizes slightly. Boyd’s mother had taken in the suit to fit her—all the while laughing at the brilliance their plan and offering to help the others adjust their outfits.
Lydia wove her way through the crowd, making her way over to them. She looked stunning in a black tuxedo and black heels. She wore a velvety red tie that made the cascading waves of strawberry-blonde hair look richer in colour.
Stiles blinked in surprise when Jackson appeared behind her, wearing a wine-red floor-length gown. The straps that sat off his broad shoulders, following the curve of the sweetheart neckline where the ruched fabric crossed over his chest. The long skirt was draped around his legs, a thigh-high split up the left side.
“I thought I’d die before I ever saw you in a dress,” Stiles said as Jackson joined them.
“Had you asked me, I would have said no,” Jackson said. He turned to look at Cora, smiling softly as he gently patted her arm.
Cora smiled in return and mouthed ‘Thank you’.
“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I feel pretty,” Stiles said, swishing the fabric of his skirt.
Boyd rolled his eyes and Jackson groaned, “And you ruined it.”
Across the dancefloor, Stiles spotted Danny wearing a blush-pink gown made of a soft, flowing fabric. It was a strapless gown with a curved neckline that dipped down his chest. The fitted corset was decorated with white, pearl and pink beading and hints of pastel pink floral lace that trailed past the waistline and onto the flowing skirt.
His date – Ethan – wore a tailored grey suit with a pearl-white tie and a pink handkerchief tucked into the breast pocket.
They were all there—everyone but Derek, at least.
“Where’s Derek?” Allison asked, glancing at Cora.
She shrugged. “He dropped me off at Scott’s place earlier and then went home.”
“Is he not coming?” Erica asked, shocked.
“I got a text from him saying he was going to be late,” Stiles said. “He told us to go without him; he’ll catch up.”
Lydia looked from Stiles to Cora. “Do you think he’ll go along with it?”
“I don’t know,” Cora admitted.
“Heads up,” Isaac said, nodding at the man who shoved his way through the crowd and stormed across the room to their sides.
“What is the meaning of this?” Harris snapped, livid.
Stiles glanced at his friends, feigning confusion. “The meaning of what?”
“Stop this nonsense right now,” Harris ordered, his face flushed red with rage. His eyes locked onto Stiles. “Go get changed right now or I’ll write you all up on dress code violations and have you suspended for this.”
“For what?” Stiles asked.
“Don’t try and be smart with me, Stilinski.”
Stiles turned to Lydia. “Lydia, do you have the—?"
She dug into her jacket pocket, handing him a piece of paper.
“‘Couples must wear suits and dresses’,” Stiles recited. “Those were your words. And we’re just doing as we were told.” He gestured at the teens around him. “The couples are wearing suits and dresses. And while I don’t have a date, I thought I’d wear a dress since—” He unfolded the piece of paper in his hand and held it up for Harris to see. “—nowhere in these rules does it say that guys can’t wear dresses.”
“This is ridiculous,” Harris snarled.
“You want to pull us up on dress code infringement?” Stiles continued. “What exactly are we infringing?” He turned the paper around and began to read through the rules, “Full length dresses, tuxedos, or suits must be worn.”
He looked down at himself before turning and sizing up his friends.
“Check. Collared dress shirts with long sleeves, worn with a tie or bow tie and tucked in. Must wear jackets or blazers.”
He turned and looked at the girls who made a show of showing off the sleeves, ties, tucked-in shirts, and jackets.
“Check and check,” Stiles repeated. “Dress slits may not be higher than fingertip length.”
Stiles and Jackson straightened their arms, measuring the height of the slits in their skirts.
“Check,” Stiles repeated, smirking as Harris’s face began to twitch with fury. He continued, “Bare midriffs and plunging necklines are not allowed. No cut outs. Two-piece outfits must cover midriff. No see-through material or excessive cleavage.”
He glanced at Isaac. “That’s—what?—two millimetres of skin, you can hardly call that a midriff. And last I checked, I don’t have cleavage,” he said, glancing down at the deep V-neck of his dress. “Let alone, ‘excessive’ cleavage. So, check.”
“No bandanas, chains, baseball caps, or canes. Check,” Stiles finished, handing the piece of paper back to Lydia. “We followed your rules to the letter, so what exactly are you pulling us up on?”
Danny and Ethan joined them.
All eyes were on them, the music dimmed slightly as everyone watched on.
“Mr Steiner might be the only one here who listened to the rules,” Harris growled.
“The rules stated that couples had to wear dresses and suits,” Ethan recited. He slid his hand into Danny’s, lacing their fingers together and giving Danny’s hand a gentle squeeze. “One of us had to wear the suit, and Danny looks better in a dress than I ever could.”
Harris looked as if his head were about to explode.
Silence fell over the room as everyone turned towards the double doors that led into the gym.
Stiles turned, his jaw dropping and his heart skipping a beat.
Derek stood in the doorway, wearing a sky-blue dress with off-the-shoulder straps, a fitted corset and a ballgown skirt that was decorated with embroidered white flowers and trailing vines. Small pearls were embedded in the thin tulle overlay of the skirt, making it shimmer in the dim light, the fabric rippling and swaying like the ocean as Derek made his way through the crowd and over to them.
Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off him, his lips shaking slightly as he struggled for find his voice.
“You’re all suspended,” Harris snapped, pointing an accusing finger at all of them.
“We’ve got a game in three days,” Jackson said, his face deadpan as he levelled his cold eyes on Harris. “Good luck telling Coach you suspended the entire lacrosse team.”
“And the basketball team,” Derek added.
“Especially without reason,” Isaac furthered.
“What’s going on?” Coach asked, making his way through the crowd and over to their sides.
“Finstock,” Harris said with relief. “Maybe you can put an end to this nonsense.”
“We’re not breaking any rules,” Lydia said, pulling the piece of paper from her jacket pocket again and passing it to Coach Fisntock.
Coach read it over, his face twisted in thought.
“Stilinski,” he finally said after a long silence.
“Yes, Coach?” Stiles replied, shaking himself from this stupor.
“I take it this was your idea; it seems like something you’d think up.”
“Yes, Coach,” Stiles admitted.
“May I ask, why?”
“The prom is meant to be one night when us kids can have fun, but there are so many rules about what we can or can’t wear that it’s become more stressful than fun,” Stiles explained. “Especially for girls. The fact that girls are told that they have to wear dresses to the prom is just stupid; they should be able to wear a suit if they want. There’s a gender bias in the school regulations when it comes to clothing infringements, and not just for the prom.”
Coach nodded thoughtfully. He glanced from the piece of paper to each of them, his face composed as his eyes rolled over them.
“Well, I don’t see any rules you’re breaking,” Coach said, passing the piece of paper back to Lydia. “Have a nice time.”
“Thanks, Coach,” they all replied in unison.
“I’ll talk to the school board and see what we can do about these rules,” Coach said. “And not just for prom.” He turned to walk away but stopped, turning back to them “And, Stilinski—”
“Yes, Coach?”
“Nice dress.”
“Thank you, Coach,” Stiles said, smiling.
Harris opened his mouth to argue but Coach shot him a look that silenced him. Finstock nodded towards the door and Harris followed him outside.
Stiles let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. He turned and looked at the expressions of relief on his friend’s faces.
“I told you it’d work,” he said.
Jackson patted him on the back. “I’ve got to admit, I had my doubts.” He turned his attention to Derek, looking him over as he said, “Cinderella made it to the ball after all.”
“Laura had to make a few last-minute adjustments,” Derek said quietly, smoothing his hands over the ruffles of his skirt.
“Well, I think you look beautiful,” Erica said.
Cora threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders, her voice drowned out by the music as she whispered, “Thank you.”
Derek held her close, talking softly to her. He gently smoothed down her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown on her head before setting her down on her feet.
“So, do we get changed now, or—?” Isaac asked.
“Well, the theme of the prom is ‘guys wear dresses, girls wear suits’,” Lydia said. “But if you want to get changed—”
“No,” Isaac replied. He glanced down. His cheeks flushed pink as his slender fingers toyed with the hem of his top. “I kind of like wearing this.”
“Come on, let’s dance,” Erica said, looping her arm through Boyd’s and letting him lead her towards the dancefloor.
Ethan smiled sweetly at Danny, gently tugging at his hand.
Cora took Isaac’s hand and pulled him away, followed by Scott and Allison and then Lydia and Jackson, leaving Stiles and Derek standing on their own in the corner of the room.
“You look incredible,” Stiles blurted out before he could stop himself.
Derek let out a breathless laugh, smiling bashfully as he bowed his head. He bit into his lip gently and looked up at Stiles through his lashes. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
Stiles felt his face flush red as he smiled.
“Do you—do you want to dance?” Derek asked.
“Can you dance in that?” Stiles asked, nodding towards Derek’s dress.
“Probably not,” Derek laughed. He held his hand out. “But I’ll give it a go if it means I get to dance with you.”
Stiles took the hand Derek offered, the two of them making their way over to the dancefloor as the melody slowed and the song began to fade into the next, Derek guided Stiles’ hands up to his shoulders, settling his hands on Stiles’ waist.
Derek took the lead. He began to move, holding Stiles close as he swayed back and forth, slowly at first.
Stiles curled into Derek more, inhaling his soft musk and settled into a sense of safety and comfort that he hadn't felt in a long time. He let his mind drift away as they swayed back and forth.
Stiles shifted slightly, resting his cheek on Derek's shoulder and watching as the strings of fairy lights danced around them.
[AO3]
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artificialqueens · 7 years
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Baby, New York City: Chapter Four (Biadore) - Boleyn
AN: Hi lovelies! Sorry for the super long wait. Life got crazy! My classes at university picked back up and I donated bone marrow (which was an amazing experience, got to bethematch.org for more information about it!). I’m not totally happy with this chapter, but to make up for the huge delay, it is a good bit longer than my others have been! Thank you so much for waiting and I hope you enjoy!! Oh! And the sketchbook library in this story is a real place in in Williamsburg! xx Boleyn
Chapter Four: Miscommunications and Sketchbook Pages
Roy tossed and turned in his bed for hours that night, eagerly anticipating his date the next day. He had no idea what he was doing but he knew that how he felt for Danny was something meaningful for him. He had never fallen for anyone so quickly but, god, was he taken with this young man. His full lips and sparkling eyes, his easy smile and ethereal voice, his profound maturity hidden behind a mask of humor and naivety, it all ate away at Roy’s tough, no nonsense exterior and warmed the most bitter recesses of his heart. He had spent the past hour just trying to conjure every nuance of Danny’s face in his mind, wondering if he was doing the same for Roy.
He wasn’t. Danny was preoccupied with Gregg. He always brought out a lot of raw emotion in him. His mind wouldn’t stop churning and Danny knew that this was his one chance to channel that emotion into his writing.
He heaved himself out from beneath his covers and in front of his laptop screen. He slowly typed a few words, feeling as though each one had to be forcefully pulled out from the tips of his fingers. He deleted everything he had written and tried to start again. He couldn’t. He could feel the words ready, lingering just beneath the surface of his skin, dancing on the tip of his tongue, but he was somehow unable to give physicality to them. He groaned in frustration and threw his head into his hands.
This is shit. You’re shit. Fuck, what are you doing? This is never going to cut it. Why the fuck did you think you could complete a Master’s degree? You’re a dumb bitch from Azusa. You’re not fucking Hemingway or Fitzgerald. You’re not a writer. You’re barely a real student. When was the last time you actually wrote anything fucking close to good?
Danny had always struggled with confidence when it came to his writing. He never felt these same fears on stage, singing into the microphone, sharing his voice with a room full of people. But his writing was and always had been somehow more personal to him. He drew inspiration from his life and he tended to use his stories as a way of understanding himself and his emotions better. When he wrote, it was just him alone in a room with nothing but his own words looking back at him. He couldn’t hide behind the screams of a crowd or dissociate into an open sea of faces. There was no energy bouncing back at him that he could absorb power from. He was face to face with his successes and his failures.
He began to feel hollow and cold and knew a panic attack was threatening to sink its demanding claws into him. Inhaling harshly in an attempt to drag in good, clean oxygen and release the dark clasp of anxiety from around his lungs and heart, he managed to quell the harshest wave of panic and focus his vision again. He stared at the empty screen before him and knew that he would never accomplish anything like this. His nerves were an absolute mess and his emotions so wildly fighting for dominance that he could hardly grasp one feeling tangibly before it had slipped and given way to the next.
He got up and went to his nightstand, pulling out a small container of weed, a few rolling papers, a filter, and his grinder. He went back to his desk and made quick work of rolling a joint and lighting it, relishing in the warmth that spread through his body at the first pull. He needed to quiet the insecure, self-conscious part of himself in order to make the most of his torrential emotions.
It was not only the drive to make something good out of feeling shitty that was motivating Danny to sit down and write. He was also keenly aware that he had a meeting with his toughest professor in a matter of days and that it would be a fate worse than death to walk in there empty handed.
It had been a while since Danny had written anything even halfway decent and he was nervous that perhaps he never would again, but as the joint burned slowly closer to the butt, and Danny allowed the negativity to leak out into the night air with the exhaled smoke, he could feel the words within his fingertips. He grabbed an ashtray and placed it next to his laptop, deposited the still burning joint in it, and began to furiously attack the keyboard, typing out any and everything that came to mind. It mattered not that it was conveyed in coherent prose or consistent structure, it mattered only that he felt it and wrote it the moment he felt it. His mind was working quickly and his fingers struggled to keep up but he wanted to get it all out before it slipped away and was lost forever. He was unaware of the passage of time as he stared at his laptop screen, letting his emotions flow from his heart to his hands to his ever-growing Word document.
Roy awoke the next morning smiling. He had dreamt of Danny. He was overwhelmed with the way he felt about him. Roy didn’t do this kind of thing. He didn’t just fall for someone. It wasn’t his style. Danny wasn’t really his style either, but he had crept into his heart and filled it with warmth.
Roy threw on some clothes and grabbed his two pups, heading out to take them on a quick walk. He pulled out his phone as Sammy and Deedee investigated a particularly interesting smelling tree and typed out a message to Danny.
Roy H: Good morning. I don’t think we ever decided when or where we were going to get lunch. Did you have any place in mind?
Roy frowned after a couple minutes went by without a response, but after last night, he couldn’t blame Danny for wanting to sleep in some. He allowed his Chihuahuas to drag him down their usual path, refusing to let anything ruin his wonderful mood.
But then an hour passed by, and another. It was now nearing 11:00 and he still hadn’t heard back from Danny. Roy chewed his lip and decided to type out another message.
Roy H: Hey, just checking to see if you’re still alive?
Another hour later. No response.
Roy H: Earth to Daniel???
It was now two in the afternoon and Roy was pissed. He felt stupid for having been so excited to get lunch with Danny. What if Gregg was right yesterday? What if I’m too old for him? Maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe he thinks I’m a mistake. Oh God…
Roy paced his apartment up and down. Anger, worry, disappointment, humiliation all swam in his head and heart. He felt almost sick from the warring emotions all simultaneously fighting for dominance.
He bitterly grabbed his phone and had a message written and sent before he had even thought it through.
Roy H: If you didn’t want to see me today, you could’ve told me. You really didn’t need to be a fucking child about it and just ignore me all day. It’s comforting to know you care about me enough to at least inform me that you were ditching our plans. Thanks.
Roy looked at the screen and cringed at the words, remembering the way tats had spoken to him the night before. He felt nauseous, already regretting the entire message.
Roy H: Danny, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that last text and I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m just really worried.
Roy H: Please respond to me. At least so I know you’re okay?
Roy finally let himself think about the thought that he had been trying to block all day. What if Gregg found out where Danny lives… Roy could feel his skin prickling as anxiety coursed through him. He looked to his two dogs that were blissfully sleeping on their beds. He envied their ignorance. He felt like he was drowning.
Roy knew that the only thing he couldn’t stomach more than Daniel not wanting to see him, was Danny hurt somewhere trying to face the world on his own.
Before he allowed himself to think it through rationally, Roy had grabbed his keys and wallet and walked out the door. Perhaps it was forward, but he needed to make sure Danny was okay. He needed to know that Danny wasn’t in danger. He turned left out of his apartment building and started retracing the path he had taken last night to get home.
He felt stupid as he arrived at Danny’s building. He didn’t even know which apartment he lived in! How the fuck am I going to make this casual? Oh hey Daniel, you didn’t reply to my texts and I know your crazy ex is in town so I thought I’d just swing by and make sure you’re only ignoring me and not like hurt or something?
He had just about given up and turned around when a slender woman jumped by him, her hair in an exaggeratedly long ponytail flowing behind her. She held three large paper grocery bags in her arms, attempting to balance them while fishing her keys out of her small, circular bag.
“Hey, need a hand?” Roy gently offered, his hands outstretched, ready to retrieve a bag or two from her grasp.
The small woman looked up at him and smiled genuinely, relief spreading across her face. “Oh my god, yes, absolutely! Thank you!” She then unceremoniously plunked two of the bags into Roy’s arms while continuing to dig through her bag. “My roommate was supposed to help me with the groceries today but he’s had some kind of, like, creative awakening, or whatever, and was too busy feeling his oats to come help me.” She flipped her ponytail with her free hand, exaggeratedly flourishing it as she finally retrieved the key.
Roy smiled, not really knowing what to add. He looked the chipper young girl up and down. She wore an acid washed denim jumper with a lace bralette beneath. She completed the look with a faux pearl choker around her slim neck, an arm full of assorted bracelets and bangles, and grey heeled combat boots. It was quite the statement, but somehow felt befitting of her large personality.
She managed to unlock the downstairs door, and swung it open. She turned around to Roy and frowned. “Do you live around here? I haven’t seen you around and it’s not exactly like people walk this street for the sights,” the lady gestured around her and Roy took in the surroundings for the first time. Guess I’ve been too focused on Danny to notice anything else. The neighborhood wasn’t anything special, but it wasn’t anything terrible either. Just a street full of smaller apartment style buildings, most of them walk-ups, with the occasional tree thrown here or there.
“No, I was here to visit a friend,” Roy decided to try to keep his answer as simple as possible when the whole scenario felt anything but.
“Oh, who? I can totally let you in if they live here.” She smiled at him.
“Isn’t it a bit dangerous to just let whoever into your building?” Roy laughed a bit incredulously. He could tell the woman before him was young but her naivety made her seem even younger.
“Okay, c’mon Campus Security RA Hall monitor. I thought that was something only people in dorms freaked about.” She reached over and took one of the bags back from Roy. “Besides, if you’re a murderer, or whatever, you’re a super helpful one who’s welcome back here every time I have to get the groceries,” she punctuated the statement by flipping her hair around her and proceeding toward the staircase inside of the apartment. Roy looked down at the bag still in his hands and, for lack of what else to do, he followed her up the stairs. “Now tell me, who is it you made your way down here to see?” she threw over her shoulder as she turned at the second floor to continue up the steps.
“Umm,” Roy didn’t see what harm could come of telling this strange woman the truth. “My friend. We had plans today and he kind of went off the grid last night and I just was starting to sort of get worried about him.” Roy shrugged his shoulders despite knowing that the lady wouldn’t see it.
“Oh no!” she clucked as she reached the third floor landing. “You’re too cute for that shit. What’s the kid’s name? I’ll let him know what Mama Gia thinks of that behavior.” She turned around to look at Roy, seriousness plastered across her face. Roy would’ve thought it comical if the whole situation weren’t so odd and out of character for him.
“Umm, Danny?” He replied as if it were a question on a test he could get wrong.
Gia gasped catching Roy by surprise and causing him to almost topple the bag he was holding. “What? What’s wrong?” Roy looked around as if he could deduce the answer from the hallway walls surrounding them.
“OH MY GOD! Bitch wasn’t lying when he said you were cute,” she smiled at him, looking him up and down as if in appraisal. Roy was completely lost. “Okay honey, I’m gonna need you to do a spin for me okay?” Roy looked at her in utter confusion. “Baby, a spin, a twirl?” She mimed the movement with her hand.
Not knowing what else to do, Roy slowly spun around, heat creeping up his cheeks, embarrassed by his lack of understanding. Once he had completed the circle and was facing the woman again, he opened his mouth to speak.
“No sweetie. You’re coming with me and I’m going to let Daniel have it, officially, and then you two are going to have a lovely afternoon. He has these fits where he gets really into his writing and it’s like he’s fucking hibernating because you don’t see him, you don’t hear him, the only way you know he’s alive is because you can smell the coffee and weed. You know? One of those artsy types.” She scrunched her nose and nodded daintily as she said the last bit and, with that, she turned around again and headed to the end of the hallway, unlocking the door to apartment 3D, and stepping over the threshold. Roy awkwardly stood outside the door, not knowing whether to step inside or run away, but Gia peeked her head into the hallway with an exasperated look and intimated to him to follow her.
He stepped into the small space. Before him was a narrow hallway that met in a T style intersection, to the left were two doors (bedrooms?) and an open door to a bathroom. To his right was a standard gangway kitchen and an open concept living room space that held a bookshelf overflowing with books and vinyl records, a dining table that was home to several of those records and a beat-up older record player, two well-loved sofas, and a pair of mismatched armchairs sat around an ornate coffee table. No two pieces of furniture went together, but as a whole, the room seemed perfectly eclectic, as though it had been staged for a cliché Urban Outfitter’s shoot and then had been left behind to be loved by the people who lived there.
“Now, sweetie, you leave that bag on the counter, have a seat anywhere, and you let me go remind Daniel that he has a handsome young man waiting for his attention and he can’t be bothered to leave his room.” She pranced down the hallway back the way they came and plowed into the first door on the right. Roy heard the muffled evidence of Gia’s lecture. He felt guilty. Clearly Danny had been purposely ignoring him and here he was, invading his home, setting his energetic roommate on him, for no other reason than his selfish need to make sure that Danny was okay. God I’m fucking pathetic.
He listened for another minute to the quiet traces of Gia’s berating before he decided he had had enough. Danny doesn’t need to suffer because I’m a soft bitch who doesn’t know when to back off.
Roy strode over to Danny’s door and paused, self consciously running two hands through his hair, making sure it was coiffed in just the right way. If I’m going to be rejected by this adorable kid, I may as well look good. He smoothed out his shirt, took a deep breath and stepped into the room.
“Hey Danny,” Roy mentally scolded himself for how coy he sounded. He raised his gaze from the ground and immediately regretted it. He lost all resolve at the sight before him. Danny looked amazing. He had a light smattering of stubble across his jaw and his hair was no longer in a carefully arranged mess but a full-on, hands had been raked through it several times, hadn’t been brushed in a minute, mess. He had thick, black, large rimmed glasses on and the trace of dark bags beneath his eyes. He wore grey jogging bottoms and a baggy Misfits muscle shirt. He looked goddamn delicious. Roy’s mouth went dry and he nearly forgot why he was there all together.
“Roy!” Danny’s face lit up as he focused on Roy. Fuck. Fuck what time is it? “Oh my god. I’m so sorry! I had to write while it was all still fresh and I’m so sorry! I’m so terrible when I get into the zone like I don’t like think about anything else. I’m so so so sorry.” I’m such a fucking asshole. Shit. I’ve fucked it up. Fuck.
Roy saw Danny’s face go from excitement to realization to regret in the space of maybe two or three seconds. Roy could almost feel the panic emanating from the frazzled man before him and he felt a swell of relief. At least he wasn’t ignoring me to ignore me. God he’s cute when he’s flustered. Roy laughed a little and allowed an easy smile to spread across his face. Danny visibly relaxed and gave a shy, guilty smile in return.
“You’re a fucking cunt, you know that?” Roy laughed as he stepped closer to Danny. “I’m pretty sure I paced a fucking hole in my floors worrying about you and turns out you’re just an adorable brooding writer.” Roy felt himself flush a little until he noticed that Gia had conveniently slipped out of the room and closed the door behind them.
“I know, but seriously. Like I’m so sorry,” Danny turned his gaze to his feet and lowered his voice. “Seeing Gregg again and everything that happened, it stirred up a lot of emotions and I just needed to capture all that while it was still fresh and in my mind and the best way for me to do that is shut myself in so yeah it was very that. Trust I wasn’t ignoring you. Like, that was the last thing I wanted to do. I really wanted to see you and spend time with you, I just-”
Roy was struggling to follow the stream of words running out of Danny’s mouth seemingly as quickly as they formed in his mind. All he could focus on was how hot Danny was like this. Disheveled. Dark. The fucking picture of the stereotypical tormented writer and Roy wanted him more than anything.
With Danny still mid sentence, Roy jumped him, pulling his face down to meet his mouth, enveloping Danny’s deliciously full lips with his own. He greedily pulled Danny closer to him until they were flush to one another. Danny eagerly opened his mouth allowing Roy to entwine his tongue with Danny’s. Roy’s fingers curled gently into the hair at the nape of Danny’s neck as their tongues scraped together deliciously. Danny’s hands traveled down Roy’s body, drawing teasingly over his tense shoulders and trailing to his full biceps.
Fuck. So good. The world beyond Roy ceased to exist as Danny became overwhelmed by the taste, the feel, the sound, the sight of Roy wrapped so fully around him. God. So hot. Danny’s entire being felt on fire. He could feel Roy everywhere. One hand scraping through his stubble, one hand pulling gently at his hair, his chest firmly pressed against his, his hips perfectly aligned with his. Danny allowed his hands to wander dangerously low on Roy’s back, one curling beneath Roy’s shirt and traveling up his defined torso. Fuck.
Danny pulled away for lack of air, keeping their foreheads pressed together to allow only a minimal amount of space between them. Danny felt drawn to this beautiful man. He couldn’t bring himself to put any amount of distance between them. He gazed into Roy’s eyes, reveling in the blown out pupils and the primal hunger he saw in them. He smirked.
“Remind me to disappear more often,” Danny panted into the air between them, diving back in for another kiss, this one slower but no less heated.
“You pull this shit on me again and I may slap you,” Roy laughed, immediately stopping when he remembered Danny’s ex. Fuck, no. God you’re such an idiot! He’s actually been in a relationship where that was a thing. God I’m such an asshole! Roy’s eyes widened in regret and he began profusely apologizing for the slip trying to assure Danny he didn’t mean any of it and that he would never hit him and god he was so sorry when Danny’s face broke into a mischievous lopsided grin.
Danny leaned in a bit closer and all but breathed into Roy, “sometimes I like being slapped,” before reclaiming his lips.
Roy felt his breathing stop. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he internalized what Danny had just said. He felt the words travel through his body, lighting up every nerve ending. The words ran down his body and settled in his groin. Roy knew that he wouldn’t be able to resist this delicious man if he didn’t stop them now.
“Danny, Danny,” he breathed greedily as he pushed him away, not yet entirely decided on the direction this encounter was going to take.
“Mmm, yes Roy?” Danny asked him dangerously, all big eyes, thick lips, and warm sighs. God, he’s fucking sexy.
“We need to stop,” Roy managed to spit out.
Danny backed away, glints of hurt and confusion in his eyes.
“No, no,” Roy never wanted Danny to feel unwanted but he desperately needed some oxygen and space to get the words properly thought out, let alone said, to him. Roy pecked Danny’s lips one last time before partially extricating himself from the delicious man he couldn’t get enough of. “I want you Danny. Believe me, I do. But, call me old fashioned, it’s just that I’d really prefer to wine, dine, and make you feel special before we get too physical.”
Danny’s hesitation dissipated into a grin far too wide for his face, but, at the same time, absolutely perfect and too good for this world. Roy couldn’t help but mirror it. “Okay, old man,” Danny teased, leaning in to press his lips delicately to Roy’s for a moment. “Then I guess I have to ask you to leave while I change…?” The question was clear to Roy. Danny was trying to figure out if he had blown his date today. Good God, no you haven’t. Roy had already lost himself in Danny. He felt young and light for a change, a far cry from the dull, weighted days he had grown accustomed to.
“I take it all back,” Roy whispered, capturing Danny’s lips again in a kiss that was certainly NOT reminiscent of the honor he was trying to uphold.
Danny felt the relief palpably reverberate through him. He didn’t blow his chance. He thanked whatever deity was looking out for his interests at that moment. He met Roy’s passion, trying to convey how grateful he was for his support and understanding. He eventually pulled away, wanting to respect Roy’s wishes to not take the physicality too far just yet. “Out.” He smirked as he ordered the beautiful man before him.
Roy composed himself enough to only mock disappointment at having to leave Danny alone, to undress, everything, and redress. Damn it. Why did you have to open your fucking mouth?! Fuck.
Danny turned around and went to grab his phone and it was at that moment that a cold panic gripped Roy’s heart as he remembered the slew of texts he had sent earlier that day. “Danny, wait!” Roy lunged toward him, doing his absolute best to not let his fear show in his eyes.
“What? Do you need another kiss before you go?” Danny teased, his eyes alight with affection.
“Umm, well yes, but can I see your phone for a sec?” Roy laughed, doing his absolute best to feign nonchalance but failing miserably.
“Okay …?” Danny had no idea what Roy would need with his phone but handed it over, making sure to wind his fingers through Roy’s as he deposited it in his palm.
Roy smiled at him in relief and went into their conversation, noting that he was saved as ‘Roy [heart eyes emoji][tongue out emoji]’ in his phone. He was about to delete the longer message, the harshest of the five he’d sent, when Danny plucked it from his fingers.
“Nope, you’re being weird so you’re going to tell me what’s going on first.” Danny had been in a relationship before where his boyfriend hadn’t trusted him and had felt the need to perpetually police his messages and calls and he wasn’t doing it again. He was never going to be made to feel like he was perpetually doing something wrong or like he wasn’t worthy of someone.
“Umm,” he started off, nervously laughing in an attempt to relieve tension. He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his head. “I may or may not have gone a little overboard with the texts today and one of them I wrote in anger and I didn’t mean what I said in there. I feel terrible about it and I shouldn’t have said what I did. It’s not who I am, I was just frustrated and worried about you. I really wish I had waited until I was calmer to text you.” Roy smiled ruefully at Danny, sincere regret in his eyes.
Danny knew he should probably hand the phone back and let Roy delete the text but he felt a desperate masochistic need to know exactly what Roy had said that had him this worked up. Is it bad? I can’t do the whole toxic relationship thing again… But it’s Roy. He’s been so nice and sweet to me. But he decked Gregg and wasn’t sorry about it. But that was Gregg and this is Roy. Roy told me he’s not like that and that he never would be. But what if he is..? He was horribly conflicted. He exhaled slowly. He knew he should probably respect Roy’s wishes but he also needed to protect himself, to know what this relationship was going to be before he got invested in it and couldn’t turn away.
He looked down at the messages and scanned them.
Roy H: Good morning. I don’t think we ever decided when or where we were going to get lunch. Did you have any place in mind?
Roy H: Hey, just checking to see if you’re still alive?
Roy H: Earth to Daniel???
Roy H: If you didn’t want to see me today, you could’ve told me. You really didn’t need to be a fucking child about it and just ignore me all day. It’s comforting to know you care about me enough to at least inform me that you were ditching our plans. Thanks.
Roy H: Danny, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that last text and I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m just really worried.
Roy H: Please respond to me. At least so I know you’re okay?
Danny burned with shame. He could practically feel the fear and anxiety he had caused Roy through the messages. God I’m such an ass. The fourth text, the one he assumed Roy was desperate to erase forever was harsh, yes, but not totally out of line. He was mad. Of course he was mad. I practically stood him the fuck up the day after he saved me from being beaten by my ex and listened to me and fed me and took care of me so I didn’t have a full scale panic attack. Fuck. You’ve finally found an amazing, smart, kind, understanding man, and what’s the first thing you fucking do? Make him feel like shit because he thinks you’re not interested. Great work Dan. Really nailed that one.
Danny stood silently scrolling through the messages. Roy felt like he was on trial, awaiting the judge’s verdict. Would Danny be disgusted by his words? Would he look at them and think Roy was his ex? Not that he hadn’t been cruel in those messages and couldn’t understand the assumption that Roy was a piece of shit, but he wasn’t ready to lose Danny before they had even gotten a real start. Just say something. Please. Anything.
“Danny, please? I’m sorry and I regret it so much. Please just tell me what you’re thinking?”
Danny looked back up at Roy. He saw hope and shame and reverence in his eyes and he realized in that moment that Gregg had never been this genuinely sorry, and over something this small. He had hardly ever apologized for the big things.
He smiled sweetly at Roy. “I think I need to get changed so we can go on our date,” he gently reassured him, reaching out to twine his fingers with Roy’s. “And I’m sorry too.”
Roy exhaled in relief and smiled mischievously. “Alright princess. You need to get dressed and then we are going to spend the day doing whatever you want to do!” Roy helped to spin him around and swatted his butt. Danny threw a smile over his shoulder at Roy and wiggled his playfully.
Roy looked at Danny with admiration. God he’s amazing. He was determined to start their relationship off today showing Danny just how wonderful he was and just how committed Roy was to treating him like royalty. He backed out of the room and blew Danny a kiss before going to wait in the living room. He was ready to be the one that got to treat Danny like the angel incarnate he was.
He pottered on his phone while Danny was changing, searching up fun young people date ideas in the event that Danny didn’t have something in mind. He felt so out of touch. What the hell is Vietnamese-Mexican fusion cuisine?! Why would I take him to tour a postage stamp museum?! None of the suggestions he found were good enough for Danny. He was not going to take him on some cliché rom-com date but he didn’t want to overdo it by trying to be too hip either.
He heard a door close and looked up. “Okay gorgeous. What do you want to do?” He smiled as Danny curled his arms around him, his eyes radiating excitement.
“I don’t know man, I thought we could kinda just let this day take us wherever.” He smiled adorably.
Roy looked into Danny’s eyes and smiled. “Okay, freeform isn’t usually my style, but we can try it.” He laughed, pecked a kiss to Danny’s lips, and dragged him out the door.
Once they’d exited the building Roy looked to his date and asked, “right or left?”
Danny looked both ways down the street and declared, “right.” Roy happily snaked his fingers between Danny’s and turned down the street. They wandered through the city, deciding at every intersection whether to continue straight or to turn. Roy was surprised by how calm he felt. They had no set plan for where they were going or what they were going to do, and he was perfectly happy with that.
They turned right onto 9th Avenue and walked several blocks, window shopping and chatting. Danny pulled Roy to the left down W 19th toward the Joyce Theater, explaining that his roommate Jay was a dancer and had performed there a while back, lamenting that he hadn’t yet been in New York then. Roy smiled and watched Danny excitedly share the most trivial things about himself with him. It felt wonderful to be getting to know such special details about this man and Roy committed to memory as many of them as he could.
They then turned right again on 8th and walked a few blocks until they got to the first subway station on their journey. Roy turned to Danny. “Now what?”
Danny laughed. “First we have to choose above ground or underground?”
Roy smiled at him. “Underground.”
“Party. Now we gotta decide the blue or gray line?”
“I made the first choice. It’s your turn, chola.”
Danny swung their hands between them as he scrunched his mouth in contemplation. He gasped excitedly. “We should totally go to Williamsburg! Yeah?”
Roy’s face slowly broke into a big smile and Danny could see the wheels turning. “Okay, man, what’s with the grin?” Danny asked him suspiciously, pouting his mouth.
“Nothing, kid. But, yes we are going to Williamsburg.” Roy dragged Danny down to the subway platform, laughing when Danny bypassed paying by hopping over the turn style.
“C’mon old man. You got any moves left?” Danny teased from the platform.
Roy cocked his head and placed his hands on his hip, his brows raised in amusement and mock disappointment. “Daniel, do I look like a teenager? I’m a little beyond doing silly stunts to impress a guy.”
Danny rolled his eyes. “Alright, man. I’m just saying, it would impress me and it might get you a kiss. But, whatever. Your choice.” Before Danny had time to finish shrugging his shoulders in feign nonchalance, Roy had vaulted over the turn style and was standing before him.
“I’ll take that kiss now,” Roy smugly grinned, his dimples popping. Roy was a little too pleased with himself for Danny’s liking.
“No one likes a sore loser, Roy.”
Roy cocked his eyebrow. “No one likes a tease, Danny.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re into it.” Danny leaned in to kiss Roy’s cheek, pointedly looking him up and down, then turning around and to watch for the train. Roy felt himself flush under Danny’s scrutiny.
Roy shook his head, partially in frustration and partially in adoration. Mostly adoration though. With you Danny, I’m very into the tease. He allowed himself to focus on Danny’s ass for a moment before he moved to stand beside him, wrapping his arm around Danny’s waist.
He leaned over to whisper into Danny’s ear, “don’t start something you’re not able to finish.” He gently pressed his lips to Danny’s earlobe and reveled in the hungry look it elicited from him.
Their train arrived and they boarded, standing hand in hand for the duration of the ten-minute trip across the East River to the Bedford Avenue Station. Roy laced his fingers through Danny’s and pulled him up the staircase and proceeded to lead him in a zigzag pattern.
“Roy, where the fuck are you taking me?” Danny groaned as he was turned from Union onto Frost Street.
“Calm down, princess. We’re almost there.” Roy bit his lip in excitement and Danny sighed, allowing himself to be lead further down the street. He was suddenly stopped as Roy flourished his wrists and chimed “ta-da!” spinning around to face him with a big smile on his face.
Danny looked around in confusion. “What? I don’t get it?”
“Here, bitch!” Roy pointed to a simple brick two-story building with large, glass windows exposing the first floor. It looked empty and incredibly ordinary. Not exactly the kind of place Danny was expecting such a cultured, intelligent man to get this excited about. He smiled perplexedly at Roy, still not understanding what he was looking at but not wanting to hurt Roy’s feelings either.
Roy sighed. “C’mon chola.”
He opened the door and let Danny in before him. Once they stepped inside, Danny noticed that the space was large and open, the walls lined with recessed bookshelves stuffed with books of varying colors and degrees of wear. Danny noticed that none of the books had titles on the spines. The shelves were clean, white and uniform along the lengths of the walls, strangely juxtaposed with the torn, beaten, and faded books that overwhelmed them. There were wooden tables and chairs strewn in the space between the shelves and a red park bench sat along one wall, blocking a section of shelving. Danny felt the spirit of the place flowing through him. It was exciting and eclectic and vibrant, there was obvious creativity and human exploration within these walls. Whatever this place was, he fucking vibed with it.
He looked over to Roy with an incredible grin and found that he was smiling as well. He looked so incredibly youthful. So beautiful. “What is this place?” Danny asked him quietly.
“This is the Brooklyn Art Library. These are all sketchbooks. All by different people, from different places, and then they’re stored here and you can look through them. See things people you’ll never know see. Find out how they experience the world, what they think is beautiful. I like coming here when I’m feeling stuck on a project. It’s like I get to borrow inspiration from someone worlds away that thinks in ways I don’t. That can see things, understand things that I don’t. It’s one of my favorite places.”
Danny couldn’t tear his eyes away from Roy. His eyes had wandered around, growing wistful as he explained this place to Danny. He was so beautiful. Danny felt warmth flutter through him as Roy shared how meaningful this library was to him. Roy was sharing a part of his soul with Danny, welcoming him into this sanctuary of creativity where he felt at home. Danny felt the faint tingle of emotion sting his eyes as he realized that Roy was sharing this special space with him because Roy thought he was special. If they had been anywhere even remotely private, Danny would’ve jumped Roy, shown him how grateful he was for opening himself up like this. But they were in public, so Danny contented himself with grabbing Roy’s hand, tangling their fingers together, and giving his absolutely incredible date a slow kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for bringing me here,” he grinned around the words, his jaw hurting from the pull of his smile. He couldn’t remember a time he had felt this amazingly happy.
Roy flushed with color, squirming slightly under the intensity of Danny’s praise. “I’m glad you took a chance on an old guy like me,” he laughed. Danny rolled his eyes and looked at him with affection. Roy felt his chest swell with emotion. “Whoever finds the weirdest sketch gets to choose where we have dinner.”
“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna win,” Danny declared, moving off to a shelf in a quiet back corner of the room.
Roy smiled and followed him, stopping at the other end of the shelving unit and grabbing a book. He flicked through it, occasionally stealing glances at Danny. He was furiously sifting through the books, his brows furrowed and his tongue captured between his teeth poking out from his lips. Roy suddenly found himself imagining what Danny would look like in bed, wrapped around him, allowing Roy to- Nope. Nope no. Not that. Calm down Haylock. You’re a fucking adult. Act like it. He quietly took a few deep breaths, forcing his body to calm down. He made a pointed effort to focus on the task at hand and not the gorgeous man a few paces to his left.
Danny was watching Roy. God he’s fucking hot. Danny watched as Roy’s tongue poked out to wet his lips and watched his chest rise and fall deliberately. He wondered what Roy looked like without a shirt on. How his chest and arms and stomach would feel under Danny’s touch. Holy shit man. Keep your fucking cool. He’s mature and smart, bitch. Last thing he wants is a guy who can’t keep his mind out of the fucking gutter longer than ten seconds. Danny took a moment to close his eyes and refocus. He continued flipping through the sketchbooks, purposefully keeping his eyes on the pages of the books and not on the deliciously tanned man just down the shelf from him.
Roy gave up trying not to stare at Danny, his adorable face scrunched in concentration. He looked at the book he was holding and flipped to the back page, it was blank. He looked on the table behind him and found a pencil. If he was going to spend the afternoon staring at Danny, he might as well do something productive about it.
Danny was flipping through his fifth book when he found it. There was no way Roy could top this. He triumphantly strode up to Roy and displayed his treasure, a very well-drawn sketch of an octopus body with Queen Victoria’s stern head holding a balloon animal dog with one of its arms. Roy burst out laughing. He has such an cute laugh.
Danny stared warmly at Roy, trying to commit this picture of Roy to memory, his head tilted back laughing until he was out of breath at this stupid sketch. Danny smiled. “So, I win?”
Roy managed to nod and gasp out between giggles, “yes bitch. You fucking win. That’s either the best or the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”
Danny laughed with Roy for a few moments before he snatched Roy’s sketchbook out of his hands. “What did you find?” He looked down at the page the book was opened to and felt his heart warm. “Roy, did you draw this?” On the page before him was a sketch of Danny. Danny had always been confident about his looks. He knew that his full lips, baby Jesus eyes, and delicate bone structure blended together in a unique and appealing way. He had never doubted that he oozed sex appeal. But as he looked at Roy’s sketch, for the first time he felt beautiful. Roy had delicately carved his features out with different hues of shading, contouring out his cheek and brow bones. He instinctively drew his finger over the drawing half expecting to feel the dips and grooves Roy had created on the page. He gazed in awe at the detail captured within the drawing’s eye, flecks of white broke through the myriad of tones Roy had managed to create using just pencil on paper. It was amazing.
Roy smiled bashfully at Danny. “Sorry, I couldn’t find anything so I guess I just,” he shrugged his shoulders, not knowing where the sentence was going himself. I guess I just wanted to capture the most beautiful person in the world on paper so that I can look at it forever? Yep. Perfect Roy. Keeping it reeeal casual. Great.
“It’s beautiful,” Danny whispered gently as if the drawing would leap from the page and disappear forever if startled.
“It’s easy to draw beauty when one is looking at it,” Roy whispered back, half hoping Danny wouldn’t hear him, half hoping he would.
Danny looked up at Roy, his eyes wide.He didn’t know what he had done to deserve such an amazing man in his life. He was so sweet and so kind and so good to him. It was overwhelming and far too much but absolutely right at the same time.
“Roy,” Danny breathed, not knowing how to possibly convey through words how much it all meant to him. “Thank you.” He leaned forward and softly kissed this incredible man, attempting to pour his gratitude into Roy through his lips. He pulled away and smiled.
“You’re welcome,” Roy whispered back. He had never known himself to be this type of person. This ridiculously sappy, romantic idiot that did grand gestures and expressed emotion, but Danny did something to him. He made him feel safe exposing these parts of himself, completely unafraid of ridicule or judgment for it. But he could only do this kind of this for so long. Recovering his dignity, he stepped back a pace. “So, where are we having dinner?”
Danny smiled and laughed in exasperation at this adorable man that obviously was not used to sharing so much of his heart with the world. He felt a heated wave of almost affection rush through him and started at the realization that he wanted to be the one to open Roy’s heart up, to be the one to show Roy how wonderful emotion could be. But he also knew that the poor guy had probably maxed out on romantic deeds for the day.
“What’s the least attractive food to eat you can think of?” Danny grinned at him.
Roy laughed. “Umm I don’t know. Barbecue, maybe? Or tacos?”
“Fuck yeah, I choose Mexican,” Danny decidedly informed his date, depositing the sketchbook with the incredible profile of him back on the shelf, mentally noting it to be sketchbook #705 on the far right of the third shelf of unit #21, and grabbing Roy’s hand. “Do you know any places around here?”
Roy nodded and explained that his friend owned a taqueria right by the metro station they had gotten off at. They walked back the way they had come, hand in hand, looking in shop windows and chatting about nothing in particular. Danny smiled when they stopped in front of a building that resembled a cantena. A large sign read “Cynthia’s Especiales” across the entryway.
Roy ordered for Danny and took him to the back to introduc him to the owner Cynthia. Danny smiled when Roy introduced him to her as his date.
“Roy! Mis amores, my heart is falling out my cucu. This man,” the tiny, energetic Puerto Rican jabbed a finger at Roy while looking pointedly at Danny, “he has been alone too long. He’s a good man, and if you treat him bad, amore, I will come at you like tiger. Yes?” Her accent grew thicker as her words grew more impassioned.
“Ms. Fontaine, I swear on my chola mom that I’m not just using him for his hot bod,” Danny teased, smiling into Roy’s eyes.
Roy laughed. “I mean, he has to like my personality if he’s willing to pretend I’m hot,” Roy joked, putting air quotes around the word ‘hot’.
Cynthia and Danny protested at the same time.
“Roy Haylock, you are a sexy man,” Cynthia scolded while Danny leaned over to Roy’s ear and whispered, “I happen to think you’re very attractive Roy.” Roy was ready to tackle him there and then. He sounded like pure sex breathing into his ear.
Cynthia smugly watched the two men fawn over one another. It had honestly been far too long since Roy had let someone into his life. She had never understood how he hadn’t been snapped up already, but looking at the younger man before her, the way he looked at Roy and tenderly held onto him, she thought that perhaps it had been for the best.
“Okay, amores, out! I need to work and I can’t do that with you making love eyes in my kitchen!”
Roy rolled his eyes. “Sorry. We’ll get out of your hair.”
They contentedly worked their way through dinner and took the L line back to Chelsea. Roy walked Danny back to his place, the streetlights burning brightly by the time they made it back there.
Danny pouted when they got to his door. He didn’t want to say goodbye already. He turned to Roy. “Would it be, like, extra of me to ask when I can see you again? Without ghosting out on you this time?” He chuckled in an attempt to mask his nerves.
“Danny, I don’t know if there’s anything about you that’s not extra. You’re a writer, musician, singer who has creative binges. I’m pretty sure you’re the definition of extra.” Roy laughed, kissing him on the cheek. “But I would love to see you again. I’m free Wednesday night I think? I’ll have to check my calendar.”
Danny quirked his eyebrow, “Your calendar? Okay cool guy. Let me know if you can pencil me in.” He leaned into Roy’s touch, not ready to let go of him yet.
Roy laughed. “I’ll have my people get in touch with your people.”
“Perfect.” Danny sighed and angled his head downward to kiss Roy’s lips. “Thank you for today. It was honestly, like, the greatest day I’ve had in a really long time.”
“I’m glad. I had a great time, too.” Roy couldn’t remember the last time he had been so shy about things. He tipped his head up and captured Danny’s lips in a heated kiss, releasing suddenly and backing away.
“Goodnight, Daniel.”
“Excuse me. I thought ‘no one likes a tease’?” Daniel exasperatedly threw Roy’s own words back after him, frustrated and excited and filled with affection for this amazing man who had him wrapped around his finger.
“Maybe there’s something to it after all,” Roy smirked. He waved to Danny and watched the younger man slip into his apartment building.
Roy Haylock, bitter old bitch Roy Haylock, had it bad for Danny Noriega, and he wasn’t interested in stopping anytime soon.
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