Hearts Under Fire (16 page)

“I will,” Clark promised, kissing Daniel with a firm press of wet lips. He splayed the fingers of one hand across Daniel’s upper back and shifted his leg from over Daniel’s hip. Sliding a palm over the back of Daniel’s thigh, Clark settled Daniel’s leg over his hip, and the professor used that leg to pull Clark closer.

“What... what do you want to do with me, Clark?” Daniel asked, and Clark heard the tremor in his tone.

Smiling and moving back just far enough to see Daniel’s eyes, Clark kept touching: hip, ass, thigh. Knowing why Daniel asked -- understanding the call for reassurance and explanation -- Clark let his face relax and, he hoped, show the heat and want and need he felt.

“I want to get lost in you,” Clark answered, meeting Daniel’s gaze. “You help me find ground, and I want to feel you. But you tell me to stop, and I will. Tell me more, and I’ll do it. I just want to touch you everywhere I can, hold you... I want your cock in my mouth,” he continued, lips brushing Daniel’s. “I want to suck you dry...” He pulled back again and let the plea enter his voice. “Please? Let me?”

Daniel shuddered and murmured, “Yes. Please, Clark. I’d love it if you did that for me.”

Clark sighed. Thought left as he kissed Daniel with purpose before rolling on top of the dark-haired man, who arched up against his weight. Clark’s hand squeezed Daniel’s thigh, and low noises came from Clark’s throat. Daniel sighed, wrapping his arms around Clark’s body, and Clark gasped and curled up into blunt nails scraping down his back. “God, yeah,” Clark said breathlessly and saw Daniel smile. “Nngh -- love...” Clark kissed Daniel quickly. “That.”

Mouth against Daniel’s, Clark reveled in the slick tongue running along the edges of his teeth. Clark settled so his hardness rubbed against Daniel’s belly, and Daniel moaned, arching up into him. Clark ran his hands everywhere he could touch: up legs, sides, and finally to Daniel’s arms. Gently, Clark unwrapped one from his body to push it down to the bed and massaged Daniel’s palm with his thumb before sliding his hand down to rub the tricep. He pushed at tendons and muscles made hard with use, encouraged when Daniel sighed, upper body relaxing. Clark broke the kiss, hand sliding beneath Daniel’s body to knead a shoulder blade. “I love the sounds you make,” Clark whispered as he began to attack Daniel’s neck. “Gets me...”

Not bothering to finish the sentence, Clark ground into Daniel and pulled skin between his teeth. Daniel cried out, body bucking, and Clark shuddered as he got lost.

***

Daniel drowned in sensation. Clark slid a hand under Daniel’s lower back, pulling Daniel up as his weight ground down on Daniel’s length. His mouth moved lower, biting at the juncture of neck and shoulder. Daniel clutched the sheets, and he rolled against Clark’s hips. Daniel shuddered as Clark’s bite firmed, worrying the skin. But it wasn’t... quite...

“I...” Daniel groaned, head turning away at the thought of what he wanted. “God, Clark, I like your teeth on my pulse... pressing against...”

Clark’s mouth slipped wetly from shoulder to throat, and Daniel gasped. Hips moving in a steady rhythm, Clark licked Daniel’s skin.

“Anything,” Clark husked, before he bit down on Daniel’s throat. Daniel gave a low, shuddering cry as Clark’s teeth worked, and he pressed against Daniel’s windpipe. Pulse pounding, Daniel’s breath rasped when Clark gave a low growl, grinding them together as one warm hand moved to pinch and pull at Daniel’s nipple ring.

“
Nnngh
!” Daniel bucked so hard that he had to grab onto Clark’s body as he came down. The heat Clark so magically conjured consumed him. The jagged electric current from his abused nipple spiked the heated blend of fear and trust at having Clark at his throat. It all fed the steadily building ache of his hard cock. It was overwhelming, and he clung to Clark in the midst of the storm.

Clark groaned and slowly released Daniel’s skin before lightly clasping Daniel’s throat. He didn’t squeeze or press, just rubbed his thumb over the slicked mark and pounding pulse. “God, I want you... make you burn,” Clark whispered against Daniel’s jaw. “Make you need... and then I’m gonna come with your cock down the back of my throat.”

Daniel panted and tried to slow down the erratic rhythm. Shuddering, he rubbed his jaw against Clark’s cheek in acknowledgement, and his hands tightened against Clark’s back.

“God,” Clark whispered. Daniel swallowed against the pressure of Clark’s thumb as his weight pressed Daniel into the mattress. The heat of Clark’s mouth found the nipple his fingers had abused, and Daniel had to concentrate on breathing beneath the hot, wet stroke of Clark’s tongue. One hand stayed on Clark’s shoulder as Daniel combed the other through his hair, cradling his head, fingers trembling.

Clark shifted, kissing the warmed metal that pierced Daniel’s skin. In the next second, a fist wrapped around Daniel’s cock, teeth yanked at the piercing, and fingers dug into the back of Daniel’s neck, building the pressure against his throat.

“Nnngh! Oh, Christ!” Daniel arched, writhing, reminded of tigers grabbing their mates. His hand closed in Clark’s hair, and Daniel held Clark there as he shook and twisted, all possibility of thought gone like ash floating over a bonfire.

Daniel whined when Clark bit down harder, tightening the neck hold until Daniel nearly couldn’t breathe, and the friction on his cock grew before a slicked fingertip dug into his slit. A wildfire flash burned all the wary, protective voices in the back of his head, scorched all the hate at being helpless. This wasn’t about being at someone else’s mercy. Clark’s read of him, of what he needed, and the man’s love and desire for him was Daniel’s lifeline, the way through.

“Clark, please. Oh, God, please. Your mouth... ngh...” Daniel gasped as teeth pinched the nub of his nipple against the ring. “
Please
. On my cock. I want...”

Warm, sure hands ran over the tops of Daniel’s thighs and then moved between them, spreading Daniel wide -- a controlled wrench that made Daniel suck a gasp, head coming up to see. Clark kept his touch tight on the taut muscles, and Daniel felt Clark drag his teeth lightly up the underside of Daniel’s cock before sucking the head into searing heat. Clark’s eyes rolled, locking with Daniel’s as Clark took Daniel deeply into his mouth.

“Ahh --
fuck
!” Daniel cried out, his whole body jerking.

An arm shoved under Daniel’s body, fingertips holding, clutching at Daniel’s left hip, and Clark’s weight came down on Daniel’s right leg. Clark set a brutal rhythm with a firm seal of his lips, and Daniel cried out. The rough texture of the roof of Clark’s mouth and the constricting heat of his throat accompanied every glide. Clark cupped and rolled Daniel’s balls, squeezing, and Daniel chased oxygen in ragged gulps.

Clark paused the pace to inch teeth up the entirety of Daniel’s length, suckle pre-come from the head, and dive back down. Daniel thrashed back against the pillows. His eyes closed, his hands clenched somewhere on Clark’s body, and words and sounds spilled from Daniel’s mouth unchecked. “Gah, God. Shit... nnnngh... Clark... Please... Oh God please... Close, Clark... guh...
fuck
. I’m close...”

Clark slid up Daniel’s cock, took a gulp of air, and kept the pace while his hand slid down to wrap around his own length. Daniel felt Clark buck and tremble, heard him whimper around Daniel’s cock even as his mouth worked higher. He pressed harder with lips and tongue to drive Daniel to the edge.

Gasping, Daniel looked down, seeing Clark’s furrowed brow and the deliberate movement of their bodies. It hit Daniel who it was between his legs, pushing him this way, keeping him safe in his need and lack of control. The knowledge threw Daniel bodily into his release. The first spasm of his orgasm clenched his body so hard that he went numb at the lips, and he felt like he was trying to turn inside out.

Clark groaned loudly enough to startle Daniel. He moved his head down and sucked and swallowed, making small noises of satisfaction. Clark milked Daniel dry, each groan making Daniel’s body spasm.

Going rigid, Clark’s mouth fell away from Daniel. He gasped a high-pitched “
Ah
!” against Daniel’s hip. Clark’s eyes flew open, the cry breaking in the middle as he surrendered to the onslaught of orgasm, burrowing his face in Daniel’s skin and digging fingers into Daniel’s flesh.

Daniel gasped for air, body still shuddering. Daniel didn’t think the waves would ever fucking stop shaking Clark to pieces, but finally Clark collapsed across Daniel’s lower body. He lay limp and languid, panting so fast that Daniel wondered if he would find his breath again. Gradually he calmed down. Daniel shivered under his weight, hands wandering over Clark’s hair and shoulders.

Daniel groped for the box of tissues. Clark grunted, grabbed the sheet, and cleaned up before tossing the soiled cloth away. Daniel untangled from Clark, swiped to get the worst off, and resettled as close to Clark as he could get, body still trembling as he replayed just how vulnerable he’d let himself be.

“Mm, c’mere,” Clark murmured, pulling Daniel flush against him and rolling onto his back. Clark situated Daniel on his chest and kissed the top of Daniel’s head.

Daniel clung before taking a long, slow breath. Clark still liked him. Still wanted him, even after everything. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Clark gently stroked over Daniel’s cheek and into his hair. He petted back damp strands, and his thumb traced near the scar on Daniel’s scalp. “Thank
you
,” Clark said, voice a low rasp. “You’re amazing.”

Centering with the praise, Daniel recognized what he’d only ever seen from the outside. Lying in the strength of Clark’s arms, everything was all right. He rested against Clark’s shoulder and nodded. “It was. You were.” Daniel looked up and saw Clark smiling, eyes closed. And that was enough of a comfort for Daniel to settle into sleep.

Chapter 9

Desert stretched out under Daniel’s feet: dusty, harsh, tawny gold. The undulating voice of a muezzin sounded from a minaret. Buildings with thick walls, thin ceilings, and fluttering washlines stood off in the distance. Men with loose clothing watched him curiously from under thick brows.

Already parched, Daniel’s mouth grew dryer when a man in military uniform came out from the shadows. Daniel couldn’t make out his face. Behind the man, on a leash and with a bright red leather collar about its neck, padded an enormous tiger with mismatched eyes: the right as pale blue as the desert sky, the left as brown as his gypsy mother’s hair.

The man came up to him, and Daniel realized that the well-armed soldier had no face, just a smile. A solid fist held the leash’s handle out to him, and both were covered in blood.

The tiger watched Daniel as it paced back and forth, the stripes moving across its skin like the flicker of flames across a campfire. Silver and black scars rippled along the tiger’s left flank. Daniel tried to say something and found that he couldn’t, so he took the leash from the bloody fist.

The great beast coughed, growled, and then curled up heavily in the dust at Daniel’s feet. Its -- no.
His
side pressed warm and solid against Daniel’s shins, and together they watched the faceless man disappear into the shifting shadows. A low sound of grief from the animal surprised Daniel, and he knelt to put his arms about the thick neck.

The tiger turned to face Daniel, and he could see tears rolling from the two-toned eyes. A rough tongue licked him, throat to ear. He hugged the big cat closer and felt the deep rumble of a purr.

“Guess you’re mine, now,” Daniel said softly. The tiger looked at him, bared glistening white teeth in a snarl...

...and he woke up.

Daniel coughed, tried to swallow and found it difficult. His body ached, and he suddenly remembered everything that had happened the night before. No wonder he felt so drained. He thought about just going back to sleep, but the other side of the bed was empty, and he wondered what Clark was doing.

Stretching his hand, Daniel found no bruising from the night before. He stretched methodically, gradually waking up, his brain finding more clarity as muscles moved. Finally getting out of bed, Daniel used the restroom and sighed over not having a toothbrush. He wasn’t quite sure enough to use Clark’s. Daniel eyed his sweat-soaked shirt and leather pants on the floor. Clark had to have sweatpants and a t-shirt somewhere.

The shower’s hot water was a balm, and he soaped up, thinking about the promises he’d made in the darkness of the night. Now, in the light of day, he wanted to keep them all. He knew that Clark needed him. He knew also that he needed Clark in a way he’d never allowed himself to need anyone before. The last bout of lovemaking had touched on the fact that he could submit to Clark to the point of needing approval, and that disturbed and fascinated him.

Daniel’s fists tightened against the tile. Clark had been through so much, and if Daniel could keep Clark from getting hurt again, he’d do it; and the thing that would hurt the most would be if Daniel left.

Bowing his head, Daniel resolved to stay and figure things out. He sighed under the water. The risks he’d taken for his clients no longer made sense. He was going to have to do something about the very business that had brought him to Clark’s attention. He shut off the water, got out, and dried himself before heading into the bedroom.

On the now neatly made bed lay a pair of blue sweatpants and a pair of dark briefs. Next to them, however, was another option. Wile E. Coyote crouched behind a boulder, peering at the Roadrunner, who was studying a pile of seed, right in the crotch of a pair of boxers. A big sign pointed down and said, “Eat Me!”

Daniel blinked and laughed, grabbing the boxers to go under the sweatpants. He slipped around the screen, bare-chested, and ran a hand through his damp hair.

***

Clark stood at the fridge with a bottle of Gatorade in his hand. He’d woken up parched and wandered into the kitchen for a drink. Daniel had slept through Clark’s shower, shave, and clean up of the apartment, which made Clark happy for all sorts of reasons.

Not wanting to disturb the professor, Clark left a note on the kitchen counter. He went down the street to a cafe that served the best omelets in the city, and returned with a feast that he set out on the counter. Clark let the refrigerator door shut, grinning when he saw Daniel emerge from the bedroom.

“Morning, sunshine,” Clark said, eying the way the pants clung to Daniel’s hips.

Daniel cocked a still-bleary eye at the sunlight blazing through the loft’s windows. “Uhm... it
is
morning. Wow. That’s an amazing spread.” He admired the array and reached for juice.

“It is,” Clark agreed, leaning on the counter. He scratched the back of his calf with one foot, his jeans loose and full of rips. His burnt-orange t-shirt had a couple of holes, too, but it was soft, damn it all.

Clark tried to stay calm, but this was like Christmas morning when you still believed in Santa and didn’t know what was under the tree, but you hoped.

There was lots of hope.

“Didn’t know what you would want,” Clark said with a shrug. “But sit.” He gestured to stools on Daniel’s side of the counter. “Coffee?” he asked, turning to a cardboard carton on the counter behind him.

“Please,” Daniel said reverently, as he opened the cup of orange juice and gulped half the contents. “Two creams.”

Clark looked over his shoulder sheepishly. “I’m a mocha kind of guy,” Clark confessed. “Heather gives me hell for being a girl about it, but...” He laughed, dumping two creams into Daniel’s coffee and stirring.

“But it’s coffee,” Daniel finished. Clark heard the stool slide, and Daniel’s arms wrapped around him a second later. Daniel stole the cup from under Clark’s stirrer. “I need this, badly.”

Unable to tell if Daniel meant the coffee, the hug, or maybe Clark himself, Clark relaxed into Daniel’s embrace. A voice in his mind told him not to feel that way -- that he shouldn’t, he wasn’t allowed, anything negative -- but Clark shut it down. All morning long he’d coped with such voices and told each and every one of them to go to hell. Even if it only lasted for this single weekend, Clark was going to enjoy Daniel. And this closeness. And the fact that Daniel now knew more about Clark than anyone alive on Earth. It was not going to worry him. Nor terrify him.

Clark covered one of Daniel’s hands with his own and said, “Mm, me, too.”

Daniel leaned into Clark’s back. “I guess I should use a plate,” he said, picking up a slice of bacon and eating it with a happy sigh.

Clark’s lip twitched, and heart pounding, he turned his head, snatched the bacon near his face, and tore off a bite. “Mm, plate,” Clark said, chewing. “Right.”

Daniel grinned, his eyes crinkling at the edges, and his breath caught before he leaned to kiss Clark. “Salty, yet so sweet,” Daniel murmured.

Clark snorted, eyes rolling. “If you say so.” He looked at Daniel and realized that, with Daniel, he could be who he needed to be. At the moment, he was a man who needed food and another kiss. He took the second item first -- priorities -- and sighed through his nose.

Stomach growling, Daniel broke the kiss. “Okay, I needed that, too. Your mouth is hard to forget, but that omelet is calling to me.”

Clark laughed and grabbed plates. “All my hopes and dreams... gone. And before noon.”

“Mm, tragedy,” Daniel agreed, digging into the food with a smirk.

Had it ever been this easy? Clark didn’t think so. And certainly not after the kind of night that would probably be enough to kill most men. Or at least confine them in an emotionally bedridden state.

Clark felt like a teenager in love for the first time and ate a slice of bacon as Daniel walked around to take a seat on the other side of the bar. Companionable silence filled the space between the two men as they dug in, and Clark was solely occupied by food to fork to mouth for several long moments. He let his mind stray to wonder what Daniel would want to do, how long the professor could stay.

Feeling a stab like an icepick at the thought of Daniel leaving, Clark paused and made himself let that thought go. Eventually the man
would
have to leave, and that was okay.

Even if he goes for good.

Clark drank deeply of his mocha.

It’s good right now. And God, I need good.

Clark chewed and smirked, thinking that after last night, his need was rather abundantly clear.

But so was Daniel’s.

Clark felt an assessing gaze sweep over him. “What are you thinking?” Daniel asked.

Looking up, Clark rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “That this feels good -- having you here. Eating breakfast. Just... all of it. Even after last night. Maybe especially because of last night,” Clark’s voice went softer. “And I’m making myself enjoy this. Even if I don’t really know how long it will last.” The words tried to cut deeply. But they were the truth, and Daniel deserved that much. Hell, Clark deserved to say it.

Nodding, Daniel sighed. “Yeah. All relationships die, don’t they? I mean...” Daniel took a breath. “Mom and Dad died. They just were suddenly gone. You know exactly what that feels like, too, but worse. I might drive my Tesla off a cliff or get something stupid from doing my dom service, or you could -- I don’t know -- have that DJ of yours go off some day. And it’ll just be gone.”

Intuition made Clark walk around to Daniel, moving a stool so he could stand close and put one hand on Daniel’s arm. “Yeah, we both know what it’s like to have things change in a blink,” Clark began. “And yes, something untimely could happen to either one of us -- a piano from the sky, a stampede of elephants escaped from the zoo.” Clark smiled. “But we can’t do a damn thing about any of that. And when I said I’m making myself enjoy this no matter how long it lasts, I wasn’t thinking about death.”

Clark bit his lip. “I was thinking about what will happen when you leave. The kitchen, the building... me.” Clark hated the way he whispered the last word, hated the inherent vulnerability and raw pain in his voice. But after everything else, what was admitting that Clark didn’t want Daniel to leave him? In comparison to discussions of dead lovers, that was nothing.

Daniel’s eyes went wide. “Leave? I... I can’t leave you. I 
promised
.”

Clark struggled to understand, failed, and his mouth worked without sound until he laughed. “You... promised?” Clark finally said, incredulously.

“I said...” Daniel swallowed and ran his hand through his hair. Clark waited, fingers tracing the skin of Daniel’s arm.

“Can I tell you a story?” Daniel asked. “I know you know about my parents’ death, and it’s not as difficult as you telling me about Brian. I’ve told this to a lot of people, but it’ll show you what it means to me when I say I’ll do something.”

“Sure,” Clark said immediately, tension tightening his gut at the thought of hearing the story from Daniel’s mouth. “Couch?” Clark gestured to the middle of the loft. “You may have told the story a lot, but I’ve not heard it.” Clark shrugged, thinking he wanted to wrap himself in Daniel’s arms and stay that way for a small eternity.

“Sure. That would be nice.” Getting up, Daniel walked over to the couch, turning to sit sideways. “It’ll probably be easier with you.”

“I hope so,” Clark said, settling between Daniel’s legs. Clark relaxed against Daniel, head on his shoulder while Daniel wrapped his arms around Clark, rubbing his chin against Clark’s hair.

“All right.” Daniel took a deep breath. “I think I need to start by saying that when I was a kid, Mom and Dad and I liked playing this game. They’d bring home solved casework and let me try to figure out what happened. I was good at it. So I got used to... well... crime scenes. That proved useful when I went to the police academy, but I dropped out when I realized the job would keep reminding me of them and of how they died.”

Slipping his hands over Daniel’s, Clark interlaced their fingers, trying not to dread what he knew was coming. He focused on the image of a young Daniel poring over files at a cluttered table with his proud parents.

“When Samuel Williams broke into our house, he knew he was hunting lions, and he did it fast and hard. Williams shot my dad in the back, breaking his spine before he even woke up. He shot Mom under her heart, so that she’d live for a while. First thing I knew, a man picked me up, beat me around the head, grabbed both my wrists, and dragged me into...” Clark heard and felt Daniel swallow, but his voice remained matter-of-fact when he plunged ahead with his story.

“I was used to the pictures, but the sounds and the smell... I went hysterical, but then I saw my dad looking at me over all that blood. His eyes were so fierce. That was when I realized his nightstand drawer was open.”

Clark went still, trying to breathe under the weight of the mental images that assaulted him. It was too damned easy to imagine a nightmare in man-shape raising a gun and firing; too simple to hear the dull impact, see the way Daniel’s mother would startle awake and jerk her head to speak or move, and then another shot, another dull noise.

And Clark closed his eyes, thinking about a little Daniel -- a child -- being dragged from bed and hurt. He wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t know what was happening. Or worse yet, he would know, and Clark felt a cold wash of sympathetic terror. He could almost see the drawer from the vantage point of the floor, and Clark tried to make himself stop seeing and start listening.

Daniel sighed against Clark’s ear, tightened his hold, and continued, voice level and steady. “Dad kept his .44 in that drawer when he went off duty. Completely forbidden to me. I never challenged that rule. Right then and there, I knew that he wouldn’t fire that gun at the man holding me if I was in the way. I had to get free and clear.

“I remembered the self-defense classes Mom used to teach, and how to twist back against Williams’ thumb. I broke free, tried to run, but he grabbed me by the hair. I didn’t know how to get free of that, so I punched him in the testicles. However, instead of doubling up in agony, he... “ Daniel paused, and a shrug moved against Clark’s back. “He ripped half my scalp off and threw me at Mom.”