rivers_bend

Title: After Midnight
Fandom: CSI:NY
Pairing: Mac/Danny
Rating: R
A/N: karaokegal asked for Mac/Danny jealous!sex for her birthday. It's only fair since I made her write me fluff for my birthday. This would be equally appropriate for her "come as you're not" Halloween party I think.

Thank you to fallen_arazil for help and suggestions and beta, and for kohl_rimmed_eye for reading it through and generally listening to me angst.



Danny woke to the sound of the buzzer; short, short, long. Mac. Danny rolled his head, neck stiff from having fallen asleep in the chair. BZZZZ Danny found his glasses where they’d fallen on the floor. Blinked. Focused on the clock -- two in the morning. Too little too late. He continued to ignore the buzzer until Mac leaned on it. Not interested in a visit from the super, Danny got up and answered it.

Keeping the chain on, he opened the door and peered out at Mac. “Danny, what’s going on? Let me in.”

“Go away.” Danny started to shut the door, but Mac’s foot was in the way.

“Danny… I want to see you. Open the door.” Mac reached through the gap between the door and jam and closed his fingers loosely around Danny’s wrist. Danny tried to pull away, but while the encircling fingers weren’t tight, there was no give in Mac’s grip. “Danny. Let me in.” That was his boss talking.

“Move your hand then – the chain.” Mac stepped back and Danny unlocked the door.

“Is she here?” Mac pushed Danny aside, looking around the compact living room as though someone might be hiding.

“Is who here?” Danny knew he was risking making Mac angrier by playing stupid, but he couldn’t believe Mac was really jealous of Lindsay.

“You think I don’t see the way she looks at you? I see the way you look back too. Throwing it in my face.”

Danny tried to put a hand on Mac’s arm, but Mac pulled away. Danny sat back down in his chair, letting Mac pace off his anger. He was getting tired of this possessiveness.

Mac tightened his fists at his side, took a deep breath and turned back to Danny. Danny tried to drop his arms nonchalantly to the arms of the chair, suddenly aware he looked defensive with them folded across his chest.

“Mac, what are you doing here?” Danny tried to sound soothing, but it sounded just as accusing as he felt. “Flack was injured. Badly injured. You needed to stay with him. You asked me to leave, so I left. At the same time as Lindsay. Not with her, Mac, at the same time as her. So what is this about?”

Mac came over, leaning over his lover. “Danny, you distract me. I look at you and I want to touch you.” Mac’s hand stroked up Danny’s thigh, fingers following the inseam of his jeans. Danny pushed the hand away.

“I don’t even know that that means, Mac. Is this just sex to you? If so, what’s with the possessive shit?” Danny tried to stand up and move away, but Mac pushed him back, one hand on Danny’s shoulder and one on his hip. Danny struggled against his grip, but the leather chair was slippery and Mac was strong and determined.

“It’s sex for you too Danny.” Mac had used Danny’s struggling to twist him closer and now stood between his thighs, arms braced on either side of the chair.

Danny pushed at Mac, trying to move him, and succeeded only in sliding further down the seat, legs splayed against the padding of the arm rests, groin pressed against the muscles of Mac’s thighs. Mac shifted his legs, and Danny realized that fairly quickly, any further arguments that he didn’t want Mac to be here were going to be flouted by the evidence to the contrary. He was angry and hurt by Mac’s complete lack of trust, but Mac just felt so damn good. He made one last effort to shove the other man away.

Mac surged forward, a knee on the chair between Danny’s legs, and pushed Danny backwards, triggering the reclining mechanism of the chair. The footrest popped up, tipping him off his feet. He landed hard on Danny, forcing an ooof of protest from him. They were chest to chest, thigh to cock, with Danny’s neck hot under Mac’s lips.

The sensation of Danny squirming under him, thigh muscles bunching and relaxing against his growing hard-on, was too much to take. Mac buried his fingers in Danny’s hair, pulling his head back, exposing his throat. Lips, teeth and tongue, tasting, marking, claiming Danny’s skin. Danny ceased struggling, his movements becoming more deliberate as he pressed upwards, groaning.

Danny’s hand cupped the back of Mac’s head, pressing him closer, feeling the teeth bruise his flesh. He wanted the marks, wished they were higher – where they’d show over the collar of his shirt, where he’d see them when he caught his reflection. Sliding his hand upwards to where Mac’s hair was long enough to grip, he pulled his mentor upwards, saying, “Kiss me,” against Mac’s face.

Their mouths were hot and needy. Danny bit Mac’s lips, wanting to hurt him for his ridiculous jealousy, for not wanting anyone to know, for coming over in the middle of the night, not because he missed Danny, but filled with accusations and indignation. Mac made a noise, half whimper half growl, thrusting his lip further into Danny’s mouth. When Danny tasted blood he pulled away. “Mac, shit. I’m sorry.”

“No.” Mac licked a drop of blood from the corner of Danny’s mouth. He rolled, pulling Danny with him until they were somehow lying on their sides in the chair, legs tangled on the foot rest, hips pressed together, penned in by leather. Danny’s head rested on Mac’s biceps, his arm pinned under Mac’s ribs.

Danny’s free hand traced the cut Mac had gotten in the blast, where it curved above his eye. “There’s been too much blood today.” He kissed the corner of Mac’s mouth, away from where a bruise was blooming, his lips butterfly light. Mac tried to turn into the kiss – press forward – but Danny held Mac’s head captive and stayed where he was. With pointed tongue he traced the ‘C’ where Mac’s lips met. He couldn’t resist the taste of the detective, licking at the smooth heat inside Mac’s lip, identifying canines and incisors by touch.

Feeling like Danny was burning him, Mac sucked Danny’s tongue into his mouth, crushing their lips together, relishing the sharp pain as saliva stung the cut on his lip. He slid his hand down between the chair arm and Danny’s ass, shifting the younger man against him until his erection was tucked in the hollow between Danny’s hip and his hard-on.

Danny kissed and licked his way down Mac’s jaw as Mac did his best to appreciate the contours of his glutes within the confines of a leather recliner. “Come here.” Mac tried to lift off Danny’s arm and wriggle underneath him at the same time. They managed somehow to shift until Danny was on top of Mac and Mac had both hands free to explore the amazing Messer ass.

“I do have a bed you know.”

“Oh yes, I remember the bed. I like this chair though.” Mac slid his fingers down between Danny’s legs, making him jump. Mac grinned as he reached around further, cupping Danny’s balls with probing fingers. “Lift up.”

Awkwardly, Danny propped himself on one knee and his hands while Mac undid the buttons on his jeans. Mac took full advantage of the extra space this created and plunged both hands down the back of Danny’s pants, kneading, sliding, probing.

Danny was grinding on Mac’s hipbone, enjoying the feel of the man under him when Mac said, “I bet Lindsay doesn’t make you feel this good.”

Danny froze. Pushing back, he looked Mac in the eye. “You fucking what?”

Mac slid his hand further down, teasing his fingers between Danny’s legs. “I bet she doesn’t --“

Danny shoved himself off of Mac, standing, shaking with rage. “You did not just bring up that shit again with your hand on my balls.”

“Danny. I…”

“Fuck you Mac. Get out. Just get the fuck out.”

Mac stood and tried to take Danny’s arm. Danny jerked away and retreated in the direction of the front door. Mac’s longer legs gave him an advantage, and he caught Danny by the shoulder before the shorter man had taken half a dozen steps. Spinning him around, Mac caught his gaze. “Danny, I didn’t mean anything by it.” He tried to capture Danny’s lips with his, but the younger man twisted away.

Danny stumbled, his jeans, still undone, sliding down his hips. Mac tipped him the rest of the way off balance, landing on top of him on the couch. Effortlessly, he had Danny’s hands pinned above his head, the whole length of his body pinned by Mac’s weight.

Mac’s blood smeared across their mouths as he ground their lips together, using his own teeth again to mark and claim. He used his hipbones and ribs, his elbows and fingers to make sure Danny knew who was on top of him. That he’d remember it for days. Danny pushed up against him, struggling at first, but then thrusting, grinding, colluding with Mac in the bruising of his skin.

Shaking, face burning with stubble rash, Danny pulled away from Mac’s hungry lips. “You either trust me or you don’t.”

Mac sighed into Danny’s neck. “I trust you.”

“I need you to look at me when you say that.”

Mac pushed himself up so he and Danny were eye to eye. “I trust you.” Mac spoke as sincerely as possible. “I’m not sure I trust Lindsay and she doesn’t know you’re taken and—“ Mac shut his eyes, trying to block the image of Danny walking off with Lindsay smiling up at him. “Danny, I trust you. Ok?”

“Then fuck me like you trust me.”