Uh, I think it might be done, but I'm not sure. Answers anyone? Snark? Porn? Right-ho.

Title: Resonance
Fandom: CSI: NY
Rating: Mature for sure
Warnings: Uhm... porn?
Notes: scarletts_awry is having a Yay!Porn!Weekend and this is my submission. This takes place in Power Generation-verse. Follows A City Alive. Post-"Care of this Post".
Previously Posted: Part One, Part Two, Part Three.



Flack couldn't ask Danny what he thought he was doing there. The question didn't seem to have any meaning because both of them, despite what they might believe, somehow relied on that mutual dismissal of the situation. That was it: Danny came by every day after work because he was a nice guy and thought Flack might like a little company or something. And Flack let him in because really, they were just good friends and it was nice to have someone to talk to once in a while. The 'once in a while' had gotten out of control. Danny tended to have that effect on things.

"I was thinking about you this afternoon," Danny said nonchalantly. They were both sitting on Flack's long sofa watching an English detective rerun on tv with no sound. He was very careful not to make eye contact.

Flack bit. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." Danny couldn't keep still and that little admission made him fidget. "See, when you were in the hospital I had this talk with Mac about... people like us." He still sounded ashamed to say 'powers' but that was what the last few weeks had shown him: they weren't 'normal' people anymore. "Cause there's this whole double standard and it just gets me, you know?"

"Sure," Flack said noncomittally. This was getting pretty deep for Danny. He didn't like to talk about things like this because it only made him angrier, and when he got angry, he burned things.

"Well, Mac told me that if it'd been me they woulda done the same thing. I never thought about that before. I mean, I don't have to wear a bracelet or anything, but I could still let something on fire by accident." He shrugged. "I guess. If I was hurt bad and couldn't help it."

"You're surprised about that?" Flack rubbed the thin nylon band around his left wrist, where a small metal tag proclaimed his danger to others. "Sometimes the rules aren't just about putting distance between us and them." The brief touch of his fingertip on the tag sent a brief, metallic thrill through him. He'd missed that sensation so much in the hospital.

"Yeah, but they can't say they're treating us like normal and then go around making rules like that, it's not fair!" Danny's hands curled into fists and Flack could imagine the heat between his clenched fingers.

"I don't think anyone said life was gonna be fair," he reminded Danny. Danny scowled at him and flopped back into the sofa cushions.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Danny snapped. He reached for the remote control to turn the sound up, and then the conversation was over.

**

The couch was soft, and had a sag in the middle that pressed the two of them together, shoulder-to-shoulder, if they sat too close. Flack still tired easily, and keeping apart from Danny was taking too much of his attention, so he gave in. Besides, after the sterile chill of the hospital ward, he was happy to have a source of warmth, even if it did talk back to the tv occasionally.

"Look at that! I coulda told you that guy was innocent," Danny muttered. "But they had to wait until after pulling his brother outta that bog before they found the right piece of evidence. Where do they get these stories?"

"Mmm," Flack said drowsily. He was half paying attention to the flickering screen, half given in to the steady heat radiating next to him. "Books. You ever read 'em, Messer?"

"Oh, ha ha," sulked Danny as he wriggled deeper into the sofa, "I'm insulted."

"Don't be," Flack said, rocking with the sofa's waves. He laid his head gently down on Danny's shoulder and waited. The curve of neck and shoulder was just perfect. After a few minutes, Danny sighed.

"Okay, are you sick of me yet, or what? Cause I can go."

Flack grinned against the warm, smokey-scented nook of Danny's neck and said, "Are you blind? Or just stupid?"

Danny bit back another comment, and instead leaned over and brushed his lips against Flack's hairline. The touch said everything that neither of them thought to say. When there were days when nothing seemed to go right, well, they weren't alone. Flack shifted a fraction, twisting around as far as his healing muscles would allow, reaching for Danny's skin with his fingertips. He brushed against a copper rivet on the hip pocket of
Danny's jeans and tasted the sharp tang against his fingers.

Danny shivered under his touch, trembling like a hound with his tail between his legs. "Okay, maybe stupid?" His lower lip was right there, and with one hand, Flack smoothed away the fear before sealing Danny's protests with a long, quiet kiss.

When he pulled back, Danny's eyes were still closed against the touch, and there was a look on his face, perplexed yet hungry for more. His forehead wrinkled delicately, and his eyes cracked open.

"What did you stop for? I'm not gonna hurt you," he said very softly. A pink blush was rising to his cheekbones and he seemed entirely unaware of it. Flack savoured the hint of mercury from the filling on Danny's back right molar. Yeah, he figured Danny would be like that, restless and sharp and just a little hint of bitterness.

"It's been a while, that's all," Flack breathed. The space between them halved, and disappeared again as Danny came in for the next round. His hand was on Flack's hip, the other bracing against the cushions. Flack leaned in until the ache in his stomach muscles told him to stop. He drew away with a wheeze, pressing instinctively at the weakened spot below his ribs.

Immediately, Danny fluttered. "I didn't hurt you, did I? You'd tell me, right?" And Flack had to give him an easy grin and a shake of his head.

"If you're standing on my foot and we're trying to dance, I might give you a hint, he warned jovially, "Just take it easy and mind the bandages."

So Danny took it to heart, and manouvered Flack back against the arm of the sofa where he could lean easily, and proceeded to track his way up the long body towards the hollow of Flack's throat. Flack gurgled when Danny reached it and darted in with his little, sharp pink tongue.

Even with his mouth busy, Danny seemed to find room to talk. "I've been thinking about this all week," he confessed, "I couldn't... I didn't know what you wanted from me."

Flack squirmed beneath him, the proximity to Danny's hipbones a shrinking distance, and where their bodies touched heat flared like sunspots. He grunted, trying to control his voice. "I didn't want anything," it was getting harder to think straight and Flack closed his eyes in concentration. "You don't owe me anything."

"Not yet you don't." Danny's hands were at the waistband of Flack's beat-up sweats, and where the colder air leaked in, it raised goosebumps. "Can you handle this? I don't wanna break you or anything."

"Oh God," Flack's fingers gripped tightly, laced into Danny's belt loops, in a handful of his shirttails. "Has anyone said you talk too much?" His sweatpants slid down over his sharp hipbones and in a moment Danny crowed in self-satisfaction.

"I thought you'd be glad for this." His breath was warm on Flack's rising cock, and then he bent his head and took it in his mouth. Under Danny's weight, Flack twitched his hips and a sort of moan escaped him. He could feel Danny grin around him.

It was the kind of thing Flack never supposed would happen to him, the sort of thing he'd always figured was reserved for johns and clubbers and - "Christ, Danny, that's too much!" he gasped, grabbing at anything he could reach. The sofa cushions cradled him, pushed him into Danny's mouth, and even when Flack felt the stabbing ache in his side, like a stitch left from running long-distance, it didn't stop him. He couldn't help it; his hips jerked and he stifled a squeak and a cry and came into the searing heat of Danny's mouth.

There was a moment when all that happened was the rise and fall of his chest, and then Flack said "Holy shit," and opened his eyes.

Danny was leaning over him with an intense look of concern on his face. "Are you alright? Jesus, Don, I didn't mean to hurt you or anything. You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." The movement was habitual, Flack pressed his hand against his side as he readjusted his position on the couch. "I just never... not like that."

Danny ducked his head and the brief flash of teeth showed he was grinning, proud of himself for finally bringing Flack to a place he'd never been. "Hey, well, you learn tricks here and there, you know?"

Flack nodded and traced Danny's throat with two fingers. There was a tiny silver cross on a chain, tucked into the neck of his singlet, and the sting of it on his fingers made him quiver. "Maybe I could..." he trailed off. What was he even trying to say? And this was Danny Messer! What in the world had compelled him to... "Thanks for being here, Danny. You don't know what it means."

Danny gave a satisfied smirk and wedged himself into the scant inches between Flack's narrow body and the sofa-back. He rested his chin on a convenient shoulder. "It was nothing."

"No, you don't understand." Flack coughed around the sudden frog in his throat. "Uh. My mother came and yelled at me a couple of days after they moved me from the ICU, you know that? My father, he won't even talk to me on the phone. I always thought they were more open-minded than that, but... I'm the first in my family. We never had a power before."

The flash, quick and sharp, was of Flack's family tree, a limb lopped off and bleeding sap, lying on the ground in a pile of dying leaves. Danny bit his lip. "I had an aunt once. But nothing we ever talked about. I'm sorry."

"Ah, it's not your fault," Flack shook his head against the couch arm and his dark hair flopped over one eyebrow. "I'm just saying. You never know, do you."

"You think this might have been different?" Danny raised himself on one elbow and looked at Flack quizzically. "If you were just some shmuck with a badge and a gun?"

Flack shrugged. "I dunno. Might have been easier." He sighed, and his arm came to rest along the line of Danny's shoulder.

"That's not what I heard from the doctors at the hospital," Danny mused. He didn't raise his gaze. "You know what they told me? If you hadn't have - I don't know what they called it, some kind of unconscious knee-jerk reaction? You did this thing with your powers - you woulda been full of steel shrapnel and probably woulda been cut up much worse than you were. You know that everything they pulled outta your gut was either plastic or glass?"

"And cement," Flack reminded him. The doctor had told him that once, when he was still under suppressants and full of morphine, so there was no doubt as to why the memory was a little fuzzy.

"And Mac's shoelace. But if you had been some regular joe, you probably would have died right there." Danny shook his head. "You don't get it, do you? They're not afraid of you because you - because we, us - are different. It's because we're stronger! Because we aren't afraid of them!"

Flack said wryly, "Does this have anything to do with what just happened, or have you been thinking about this the whole time?"

Danny blushed, "Oh fuck you, Don, you know what I mean. Don't be such an asshole about it."

"Don't worry," Flack pulled him down and stole another mercury-flavoured kiss from his lips to shut him up, "I know exactly what you mean."


Questions? Comments? Feedback always appreciated.

Tags: csi power generation, fic