SN: Homophobic WIP - Part Thirteen

[out_there]

*winces* Yes, I know it's been about six weeks since the last installment. (And I know I still have the "Choose Your Own Adventure" fic to finish. But there's been Stuff Happening. Really.)

Anyway, previous parts here (you may need to check to remind yourself what we're up to).


***

Casey slunk back into the office and nearly jumped when Dan walked in a step behind him.

Dan just grinned. "Is Charlie gone?"

"Yeah," Casey said as he flopped onto the couch.

"I should have said goodbye." Dan took a good look at Casey and sat down beside him. "What's up?"

"Nothing."

"What's up, Casey?"

"Nothing's wrong. Can you just drop it?"

Dan snorted. "Last time you told me to drop it, did I drop it?"

"No."

"And the time before that?"

Casey rolled his eyes. "Didn't help then, either."

"So what makes you think it'll work this time?" Dan asked, stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles over the chair arm.

Casey tried not to notice the length of those legs, or the way those jeans discreetly hinted at Dan's strong thighs. "Eternal optimism?"

"Spill, Casey."

"It's my weekend with Charlie," Casey said, diverting his attention to the white ceiling above them. "I love the Olympics and all, but…"

"It's your weekend with Charlie." Dan sighed. "Did he take it hard?"

Casey shook his head, thinking about Charlie's serious expression. There were times when Charlie's parentage was clear. Casey was sure he could remember making that same expression, trying to look mature and practical when he just felt childish and hurt; trying to remember that his father was busy, that he had responsibilities, that of course he wouldn't have time to attend something as unimportant as a gymnastics meet…

He just hated that the times when he most clearly saw himself in Charlie were also the times he most felt like his father. "He took it well."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He said that he understood, that the Olympics only happened every four years, that they were important." Casey sighed and tried to shake off the melancholy mood. "He's studying them at school, you know."

"The Olympics?" Dan grinned. "Now there's a subject I'd be good at."

"You should offer to help him with homework," Casey said, getting up and going back to his script. From the concern in Dan's eyes, he realized that must have sounded a little too bitter.

"If you get stumped with the homework help," Dan said, smiling gently at Casey, "feel free to mention my name."

"I'll do that," Casey said, starting to feel his own smile form.

Dan nodded and stood up. "Although, you know who'd be really great at homework help?"

Casey looked up and matched Dan's grin.

"Jeremy," they said in unison.

***

Jeremy's emails came with surprising regularity. Dan looked at the times and laughed, saying that old body rhythms died hard. After doing a few quick calculations, Casey understood what Dan meant. The emails were sent like clockwork, at noon and midnight Sydney-time.

Natalie's phone calls came at stranger hours. Basically, she seemed to call any time she remembered them. The calls would be short, and frequently was just a quick check with Dana. Casey was still getting used to sitting in Dana's office and having a quiet conversation suddenly interrupted by her direct line ringing.

Casey glanced over at Dana, who was spinning her large office chair around as she listened quietly. To Dana's credit, she was managing to keep her compulsive worrying about Natalie down to a reasonable level.

"That sounds fine," Dana said slowly. "Although, if you try switching around the assignments, it may work better…"

Dana was silent for another moment, nodding into the handset. "Yeah, sure. I'll talk to you late-" Dana stopped and stared at the phone. "She hung up on me."

Casey shrugged. "You don't sound surprised."

"She said she had to go, but…"

"She hung up on you?"

"Yeah." Dana sighed and hung up the phone. "What were we talking about?"

"The Men's basketball last night," Casey supplied, rocking on his feet, "and the relative merits of each team."

"And the many ways in which the US team was clearly better than the South Korean team." Dana grinned as Dan stuck his head around her office door. "Yes, Dan?"

"I was looking for Casey," Dan said, leaning on the doorway. "But I see he's here with you."

Casey stood up, seeing this as a clear reminder that he actually needed to go start writing his script sometime today. "I am indeed."

"How unexpected," Dan replied drolly. Casey blinked, trying to work out what Dan meant. "Anyway, I'm looking for the tapes of last night's basketball game."

Dana held a tape up to Dan. "Here you go. I was watching it this morning."

"Not to spoil it for you," Casey stage-whispered, "but Dana thinks that our team rocks."

Dana raised an eyebrow at him. "We're a good team, Casey."

"I know that."

"Then why the snide comment?"

Casey grinned. "I wanted to make sure Danny knew that," he said, gesturing towards Danny. "Besides, I don't think that was snide."

"It was a little snarky," Dan pointed out.

Casey turned to him with a mock-glare. "Who's side are you on?"

Dan beamed at Dana. "The side that pays me?"

Dana laughed and shooed them with her hands. "Okay, boys. Out. I've got some work to do."

Casey nodded and followed Dan out the door. "You want to watch this with me?" Dan asked, holding up the tape.

"Nah. I watched it last night."

Dan's brows drew together. "But that would have been screened… at about four in the morning."

Casey nodded, walking to their couch. "Four-thirty, actually."

"You not sleeping again?" Dan asked with concern.

"Danny, we did a show from eleven to twelve and two to three," Casey pointed out, thanking his lucky stars for the lack puns involved in that second show. "I didn't get home until after four, and the game was just on."

"But you're sleeping fine?" Dan yawned widely. "Because I think only one of us should be exhausted at a time."

"It's the Olympics, Danny, and I'm sleeping fine."

***

It was sort of true. Not true in the strictly black and white sense, but true in the overall sense. When he slept, he slept fine. It was just that he wasn't sleeping quite as much. Technically, they were still only working twelve hours, three in the afternoon (although rundown didn't start until four) to three in the morning, but the problem was that Casey's body was used to being at work at twelve. He was used to waking up at half past ten, and he was still waking up at the same time. And since he was awake, he figured he might as well be at work, or at least watching tapes at work.

The other problem was Olympic Fever. The Olympics were on, and for a bunch of sports fanatics, like the bunch that worked at Sports Night, it was bound to be a big deal. Everyone had favorite sports, choice events that they were excited. That was the problem. Whenever he turned the network feed on, there was always something interesting to watch.

They'd finish up the show and Danny would head home, but there was always something interesting on at the station, basketball or fencing, cycling or baseball. Casey would end up staying, just to watch five more minutes, and by the time he called himself a cab, it would six or later, and sunlight would be creeping amongst the skyscrapers.

Of course, he wasn't the only person losing sleep. Dana was only getting a few hours a night, and from the bags under Kim's eyes, she wasn't doing much better. Dan was dashing from the studio as soon as he was changed, and only dragged himself in a few minutes before rundown, but the second hour on air was getting to him. From the way he was yawning through the Men's freestyle heats, he was barely awake.

"My god, how much longer can that guy take?" Eliot asked, staring at the screen.

"Do you think he'll drown?" Kim replied.

"You think?"

"He could drown."

Casey rolled his eyes. "I don't think he's going to drown."

Will snorted. "He's taken ninety seconds to swim a hundred meters."

"He hasn't finished yet," Chris pointed out.

"Fine," Will said. "He's taken ninety seconds to swim *less* than a hundred meters."

"What do you think, Danny?" Kim asked, without looking away from the screen. "Will he drown?"

Dan blinked blearily at them. "Huh?"

"Will the swimmer drown," Kim repeated.

"Olympic swimmers generally don't drown," Dan said slowly. "It's the way it works."

Kim snorted. "They don't usually take over a minute to finish, either."

"Danny?" Casey asked, jerking his head towards their office door. "Come on."

Dan got up and followed him out, but didn't ask any questions until Casey closed the office door behind them. Scrubbing a hand over his face, Dan scowled. "What? Isn't the script basically finished?"

"Yeah, but you look exhausted," Casey replied, yanking at the blanket that sat over the back of their couch.

"So?"

"So lie down." Casey pointed at the couch, and Danny sat obediently. "Lie down."

"Why?" Dan yawned again.

"We don't go on air until eleven. You can get a couple of hours sleep in, if you lie down now."

"But what if there's a last minute addition, Casey? There are always last minute additions," Dan whined pitifully, as he kicked off his shoes.

"I can add them to the script." Casey stood there, waiting for Dan to lie down. "I am capable of doing that."

Dan surrendered and settled his head onto the armrest. "Thanks," Dan said as Casey spread the blanket over him. As Casey tucked the cover up to Dan's chin, Dan reached up and wrapped his hand around Casey's wrist.

Swallowing, Casey was suddenly very aware of Dan's fingers against his skin, of the way Dan's hand almost reached all the way around his wrist, of the warm strength in Dan's grip. "Not a problem, Danny."

Danny smiled broadly at him and pulled his hand back. "I appreciate it."

***

Lying in bed, the image of Dan's smile came to mind easily. He couldn't help it.

Casey had tried fighting it, tried ignoring it. He'd tried cold showers and fast, guilty, jerk-off sessions. None of it had helped. He still thought of Danny when he came home, still imagined Danny in bed beside him, or naked and dripping in the shower. Danny in the office, grinning sharply and watching Casey with that knowing gaze, with that confident, worldly expression that made Casey's breath catch.

It was so easy to imagine leaning closer to lick at Dan's smile, to taste the other side of that grin. The thought of Danny lying on their couch came to mind, and Casey could just imagine leaning over and kissing Danny. Of course, in his imagination, Danny responded warmly, wrapping arms around his shoulders and pulling Casey closer, kissing him back.

Thinking about kissing Danny, about Danny kissing him, was enough to make his cock stir, was enough to make his tired limbs want more. Want things he couldn't have, like Danny squirming beneath him, like Danny's warm hands on his skin. It was too easy to creep his hand down his own chest, to slowly slide his fingers over his stomach and close his eyes, and pretend it was Danny's hands. Imagine Dan's fingers on him, and Dan's mouth on his.

It would be easy to lose himself in Dan's mouth. To keep kissing Dan until Casey's entire world consisted of the taste of Dan's tongue, the sensation of Dan's lips, and the sound of Dan's stifled moans. Biting down on his lower lip, Casey imagined the rough burn of stubble against his skin, imagined how tender his lips would feel, in that stinging, too-sensitive way.

But it would be a waste to have Dan right there, touching him, and not explore further; not to drag his tongue across Dan's stubble covered cheek, not to lick and bite his way along Dan's jaw line; not to bury his face in the crook of Dan's neck and just smell him.

Dan would smell citrus-y and clean, like that smooth, expensive aftershave he preferred. Casey would have to nuzzle, would have to run his tongue between the strong curve of Dan's shoulder and neck, just to see if Dan tasted as good as he smelled, to see if he could make Dan shiver or gasp with soft kisses or sharp bites.

Casey cupped himself through his boxers, enough to ease the throbbing ache, but not anything more. He had a brief sense-memory of Dan's hand on him, of Dan's fingers holding him through the cotton. Pulling his hand away, Casey clutched at the spare pillow beside him. He didn't want this to end just yet. Not when Dan was so clear in his mind that Casey could almost reach out and touch him. He didn't want this to be another quick, shameful session, jerking off and feeling guilty and coming just from vague shadows of Dan.

Casey stretched his hand up, rubbing at his collarbone. It made him think of Dan, of what Dan would be wearing. Probably a t-shirt, or maybe even that red shirt he looked so good in. Top button undone, open collar framing his long neck, just enough room for Casey to pull it aside as he licked and nibbled, but not enough give to keep going. He'd have to undo it, starting at the top so he could keep kissing as he went.

After the first couple buttons, he'd be able to push the cotton across until it revealed one strong, somewhat tanned shoulder. Biting down into the muscle until Danny hissed, Casey would force his unsteady hands to keep undoing buttons. He'd suck against the teeth marks savagely, wanting to bruise Dan, to leave him with a definite mark; a hickey dark enough that Dan would see it the next morning, and the morning after, and hopefully, the morning after that.

Dan's hands would grip onto his arms, pushing away slightly, trying to get Casey to stop without actually wanting him to stop. Casey would be good. He'd let Dan stop him and lick an apology onto the tender spot as he unbuttoned the rest of Dan's shirt.

Casey squeezed his cock tight, fighting the urge to stroke fast and hard. Taking a slow breath, he lightly trailed his fingers down his chest, tracing the places where he'd kiss Dan. Lingering on the places where he'd stop and tease.

He'd nuzzle along Dan's collarbone, pausing at the soft hollow below Dan's neck. He'd kiss his way down Dan's chest, wrinkling his nose at the sparse, almost ticklish hairs. Casey pinched his nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he thought about kissing Dan's; running his tongue around the walnut-brown aureole, tracing over the hardened peak lightly. Whisper-light, again and again, making Dan sigh and breathe out his name. Then he'd bite down gently, and drag the sensitive skin between his teeth. The thought alone was enough to make Casey groan aloud.

He was fumbling for the lotion beside his bed, messily squeezing some into his palm as he pictured Dan's bare chest, still lightly tanned from the last time Dan went sailing. He thought of Dan's smirk, remembering Dan telling him the secret to a great tan was sailing shirtless. Trailing a cool, slick finger down his stomach, Casey imagined following the same path with his tongue, tracing down Dan's torso with slow, sucking kisses.

Dan would be breathless, squirming under him. Probably have his hands on Casey's shoulders, trying to nudge him further down, but Casey would keep it slow. Casey started stroking himself, hissing at the relief of friction on his aching skin.

Scrunching his eyes tightly closed, Casey imagined Dan's lusty hunger, imagined pressing his lips against the softness of Dan's belly, imagined thrusting his tongue into Dan's navel in an obvious tease. Quickening his own strokes, he imagined pulling Dan's jeans off him, easing his boxers over his hips. Tried to picture Dan's cock, hard and gleaming with pre-come, jutting out from his body desperately.

He'd bite at the sharp angle of Dan's hip, chewing lightly on the bone until Dan's fingers twisted into his hair. Until Dan pulled at him, dragged Casey's mouth to his groin, stretched Casey's lips around his cock.

Casey writhed against the sheets, working his hand faster on his cock, wondering if Dan would gasp or moan, wondering if Dan would say his name. Dan thrusting into his mouth and Dan's hands tight in his hair and Dan crying out his name and Casey had to move his hand faster. Had to groan, and thrust, and clench his jaw and *come*.

***

Um, let me know if that last line doesn't work. I struggled with it, and ended up realising that at midnight, I wasn't going to think of anything better.

Comments

[phoebesmum.livejournal.com]

I would make in-depth and incisive comments, but find I'm lost for words.

A job well done, then.

Yummy!

(Oh yes, very articulate Hilary.)

[out-there.livejournal.com]

I would make in-depth and incisive comments, but find I'm lost for words.

A job well done, then.

*grins widely* I think you're right. Speechless is definitely a compliment!