| Subject: 2. Sitting in a Tree (NC-17) |
Author:
shrift
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Date Posted: 14:48:16 06/08/03 Sun
In reply to:
shrift
's message, "Five Things That Never Happened" on 14:40:17 06/08/03 Sun
***
2. Sitting in a Tree
"Fuck." Danny grinds himself back, pushing himself up on his hands and knees. Casey bites him on the shoulder and shoves Danny down with another push of his hips, his weight pressing on Danny's back. Their skin is wet, slipping, sliding. Breathing hard in pants and grunts, Casey making that really sexy groaning noise that means he's so turned-on he can't remember how to be a repressed Midwesterner.
Heavy breathing, the creak of the mattress, the rhythmic thump as the mattress hits the frame of the bed. Danny slides his hand down and jacks himself, and his whole body just twitches around Casey's dick.
"Fuck, Danny --" Casey hisses, resting his sweaty forehead between Danny's shoulder blades before thrusting harder, moving his hips in this really fucking good twist that, yes, there, and sex is never this good, except that it is.
It can't last, and it doesn't, because, "Jesus Christ!" Lisa's in the bedroom doorway, blue eyes wider than Danny's ever seen them. And she's taking a lot in, the way Casey's straining body must look with Danny sprawled on his hands and knees underneath him. Acres and acres of naked and sweaty.
There's no way they'll be able to pass this off as Greco-Roman wrestling.
Lisa's screaming mad. "It's a trial separation, Casey, that doesn't mean you get to fuck around!"
"Lisa, it's --" Casey says, and he's moving around like he's trying to cover them up. Danny wants to tell him that it won't help, but he's not going to say anything. All he has on his side is silence right now. Silence and a panicky spike of adrenaline that makes him feel like he's about to have a heart attack.
"Don't you --" and she's so angry she can barely talk, working her wedding band off her finger. "Don't you fucking dare, Casey McCall!"
She throws the ring at them and Casey ducks, the metal band ricocheting off the lamp and rolling under the bed. Lisa storms out of the bedroom. Danny thinks she might be crying.
Casey shifts back quickly, too quickly because now Danny feels like his guts are trying to follow him out. Casey's swearing as he pulls on a pair of jeans, barely getting himself zipped up as he clears the doorway. Danny buries his face in a damp pillow and shivers. He has beard burn on his face.
"Holy shit," he says to the pillow. "I'm the other woman."
*
Casey kisses him back, and this shocks Danny so much that he almost drops his bottle of beer. It's --
He didn't mean to. Kiss Casey. But the fact remains -- he's kissing Casey, and Casey is kissing him back, so clearly he doesn't mind. Casey doesn't mind so much that he shifts closer and puts his hands on Danny's face. Casey tilts Danny's head and starts stabbing and sucking with his tongue, his stubble scraping over the sensitive skin around Danny's mouth. Danny just lets go of all dignity and whimpers, because Casey's just climbing on and going to town.
His beer's suddenly gone, and he thinks Casey took it and put it on the coffee table, or something. There's just the stretch and flex of Casey's body against him, and then Danny's on his back on the couch with Casey between his legs.
Invasion of the body snatchers. The real Casey has been kidnapped and replaced with this Pod Casey, but Danny's not sure he cares, because Pod Casey is getting hard and sucking sloppy kisses onto Danny's neck. The real Casey would never let Danny slide his hands down Casey's back, wouldn't arch into the touch. The real Casey wouldn't let Danny grab his ass and shift him an inch to the right, oh yeah right there, but Pod Casey just groans in appreciation.
Danny likes Pod Casey. A lot.
"You do this with guys," Casey says in his ear. His breath is hot and humid, tickling his earlobe.
"I -- yeah," Danny breathes. He didn't know Casey knew that, but fuck, it's not like he's been subtle about it for the last ten years. He wiggles his hips and Casey hisses. And then they're nose to nose, Casey staring down at Danny's face with this fierce look, and it's making Danny really fucking hot.
"I want to fuck you," Casey says, and knocks Danny speechless for a moment, because Casey totally isn't cool enough to say something like that and make it sexy. But it is sexy, and Danny stares until Casey blushes a little.
Maybe it's the real Casey McCall in there, after all, Danny thinks, and stupidly says, "What?"
"You heard me, Danny."
"What?" Danny repeats.
Casey must get that Danny wants to hear it again, because he blankets Danny with his body and says into his ear, "I want. To fuck you."
"Okay," he says.
*
Casey looks a little rough when he opens the door, unshaven and wearing sweats that predate their friendship. Danny gestures with the pizza box and the case of beer in his hands, and Casey finally steps to the side. Danny blows by Casey and walks into the small kitchen like he lives there, dropping the pizza onto the counter and crouching down to put the beer in the nearly empty refrigerator.
Casey's standing behind him silently when Danny stands back up, offering a bottle of beer. Casey takes it automatically, holding it like a new father with a dirty diaper.
"Looking a little lost, there, Case," Danny says. Casey just grunts. Danny puts a stack of napkins on top of the pizza box and nudges Casey toward the living room with his hip. "C'mon. We're missing the game."
The pizza is gone but for two congealing slices and the football game nearly to half-time before Casey finally says, "Lisa took Charlie to stay at her parents' house."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Casey nods, staring at his holy grail of an empty beer bottle.
Danny doesn't know what to say to make his best friend feel better about his crumbling marriage, so he just gives Casey a manly, one-armed hug and gets him another beer. It seems to do the trick, though, because by the fourth quarter Casey loosens up enough to start commenting on the game.
"I have never seen a more pitiful attempt a field goal in my life," Casey says.
"Anderson could have kicked that better with his shoelaces tied together."
Casey shook his head. "Must be making up for the perfect record last year."
"He lost the zone," Danny says. Casey grins, and Danny forgets to watch the game for a couple of minutes.
"Is that ref blind?" Casey says loudly, and Danny turns his head back to the TV to see yellow flags on the Astroturf.
"It's perfectly legitimate call," he says.
"Have you gone insane?" Casey demands, turning on the couch and pressing his kneecap into Danny's thigh.
"Not that I've noticed."
Casey looks at him like he belongs in a straightjacket. "Perfectly legitimate? Are we watching the same game, here, Daniel?"
"No, Casey. There's an inter-dimensional rift between our couch cushions. I'm actually watching the Seahawks play the 49ers."
Casey throws his arms wide. "That would explain why you think it's okay that Williams just got called for face-masking when he wasn't anywhere near the guy!"
Casey's all loose from the beer, his eyes are alive, and he finally looks like the world isn't ending anymore. Danny's relief is so huge that he feels like it should be sitting on the couch next to the two of them and drinking a beer. Danny knows he must be smiling like an idiot, and it's so fucking great that he just leans forward and --
Kisses Casey.
***
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