Pairing: Jason Spezza / Daniel Alfredson
R
Fiction means lies
For sdq
They have been up all night. Really
all-night, they tumbled into bed at midnight and the sun is rising and they
haven't slept yet.
They are squeezed dry.
Jason can't sweat any more, he couldn't
cry even if wanted to. He can barely lick his lips. Even still, sure as the
salt itching his skin, half his half Daniel's he wants more. The layer on
Daniel's skin drives him on, makes him crazy for more.
Jason smiles against Daniel's shoulder. He
thinks he knows all the places where ecstasy hides on Daniel's skin. The curve
of his hip where bliss lies waiting, panting to be let out. But that is not all
there is to know.
Jason's mouth has memorized the shape of Daniel's over but not yet
under his. He knows the way that Daniel will lap at his lips, teasing them
open, asking, politely, that permission.
But not this time. Jason rolls on top of Daniel and runs his hands
over the other man's chest, watching his fingers, almost at one remove, forming
into half shells, cradling any part of Daniel that they touch.
Daniel shifts, pretending to be asleep and lets Jason explore. He
takes the opportunity and moves his hands up higher, tangling his fingers in
long hair and tips Daniel's head back. And it has never been quite like this
before Daniel's throat arched and bared for him, his mouth open for Jason. It
has never been like tipping off the side of the earth and spinning weightless
in space before.
Arms curl around him and Jason waits, perched almost on Daniel's
hips for the other man to push him away, turn him over but it doesn't, happen,
yet, like that, instead. It's the slow taste of a kiss, Daniel licking across
his lips, and hooking his legs over Jason's calves holding him in place.
The powdery layer on top of Jason's skin crumbles and falls away
with Daniel's breath.
Any cop worth his salary, any terrorist, any interrogator, can
tell you: They all crack on the third day.
