Hearts Under Fire (12 page)

Pushing off from the door, Clark turned to lean on the sink. Behind him was a shower with a glass door and a soaking tub. A mirror above the sink showed Clark a bit pale but not too worse for the wear.

Ripping off the vest, Clark set it on the hamper between sink and toilet. He turned on the water and grabbed a towel off a rack. As he gave himself a sponge bath, he considered what in the hell to do with Daniel. In truth, he should tell the man to go. Clark was going to be fine, could manage himself from here.

But images of a whiskey bottle and cold eyes gave Clark pause. If Daniel left, would the stability go with him? Surprisingly, Clark thought it would. It was probably nothing more than having someone else upon whom to focus, but knowing Daniel was on the other side of that door made Clark want to avoid liquor for the night. Do better by himself.

Clark splashed water on his face and held his breath as it dripped. Finally he shut off the water and wiped down. He caught himself in the middle of reapplying deodorant and wondered what in the hell he thought was going to happen, exactly. He could ask Daniel to stay, maybe. Tell him he felt shaky and wanted to make sure another attack wasn’t in the works. That was true; it’d get Daniel to wait around, which was something Clark wanted. A lot. The confusion he felt apparently did nothing to alleviate the
want
Clark felt for Daniel.

Clark’s head gave a throb, and his knee echoed the sentiment.

First things first: get Advil. Then figure out what to do with the rest.

Linear plan established, Clark yanked off his watch and socks, tossed them on top of the vest, and left the bathroom to head for the kitchen and the drawer where he kept medicine. He didn’t think about his half-dressed state or the pits and pockmark scars that it revealed until he was in the living room, and by then it was too late to turn around and find a shirt.

Truly, nothing was simple when the professor was in the damned mix.

Daniel straightened as Clark approached, eyes wide, scanning, assessing, and tracing patterns. Clark managed not to trip over his own feet under the weight of the intense, dark-blue gaze, but it was a near thing. Clark went around the horseshoe counter, making sure he didn’t knock into one of the bar stools. Licking his lips, he got out the Advil, shaking two pills into his hand before tossing the bottle back and shutting the drawer with his hip. He moved over to the fridge, trying not to eye Daniel but not quite succeeding as he opened the door and retrieved a bottle of Gatorade. Letting the door shut, Clark leaned against the counter.

“I... there’s... right,” Clark said intelligently, frowning at himself. He swallowed the pills and found he had no clue what to say, which was utter lunacy as Clark
always
had something to say. He drank from the bottle and stared at the floor, brows knitted together.

“Can I... touch them?” Daniel asked quietly. “The scars. I’m assuming they don’t hurt anymore, but...”

Clark was glad the floor was the recipient of his shocked look instead of Daniel. The request made the blood flow harder in his veins, some heading south, and he was shocked yet again by how easily he responded to Daniel.

Looking up, Clark tried to school his face. He set down the bottle and shrugged one bare shoulder. “No, they don’t hurt... so... yeah. If you want to.” Clark didn’t have time to kick himself for the stumbling permission. He had to focus on telling his eager body to calm down.

Daniel approached, breathing slow and steady, and reached forward to brush his fingertips along the spray of marks, leaning in to study the scars. He set his whole hand against Clark’s skin, palm smoothing the lines and across Clark’s flexing abs.

“Came from this side, hm?” Daniel asked.

“Yeah,” Clark said, voice low and rough. This close, Clark could smell Daniel: sweat, musk, and that distracting scent that was a combination of soap, shampoo, and aftershave. Clark’s skin lit up in the wake of Daniel’s touch, and he took small, shallow breaths so as not to dislodge the hand on his side.

This was crazy. Hundreds of men, and
this
one made Clark feel like he’d never been touched. Rendered him immobile and turned his brain into a mix of caution and curiosity and lust. His heart beat loudly in his ears, and he held still.

Daniel’s lips pressed together, expression darkening, and Clark started to panic, wanting to apologize or say something. Daniel sighed, half-hearted and forced.

“They say scars are like tattoos but have better stories. I dunno, these...” Daniel brushed his hand over the spray again, “...they just seem like one really painful story.”

Feeling dizzy from lack of oxygen, Clark finally let out a shaky breath. He worried, struggled to understand, to know what to do, to make things easier or better or somehow right. But it was like no matter what he did, he couldn’t please this man, which was
nuts.
All Clark wanted to do was kiss Daniel until they couldn’t breathe, and Clark wasn’t sure he would care what happened after that. It broke his rules, but Daniel was the --

Clark blinked.

Exception. He’s the exception. Brian was the first, and this man is the second.

The realization was a whirlwind in Clark’s mind, stealing both words and thoughts away. He felt himself relax against the counter, and his hand came up to touch Daniel’s side. He swallowed and rubbed a line over the shirt and the ink-covered skin beneath it. Clark could feel Daniel’s eyes on him, but Clark just couldn’t make himself meet the gaze.

Daniel didn’t make a sound, but he stepped closer, slowly. Reeling in the aftermath of self-discovery, Clark brought up both his hands to rub at Daniel’s lower back. Daniel felt so damned
good
. Clark’s breathing sped up. He turned his head to brush his lips so lightly over Daniel’s neck that for a second Clark wasn’t sure he’d made contact. Then Daniel’s breathing stuttered, and Clark’s eyes lost focus.

Exception. That’s it. My God. I don’t just want him; I think I need him. And it’s so bad I couldn’t even see it.

“Daniel...” Clark whispered and hugged the man to him. He struggled. He
needed
to say something -- say it now before it was way too late. He remembered Daniel’s words in the car. Apparently, Daniel had just as hard a time reading Clark as Clark did reading the professor.

Then Clark got distracted as Daniel wrapped his arms around Clark, fitting them together body to body. He bent his head to brush Clark’s hair, and as the silence stretched, he whispered, “Yes?”

Clark blinked slowly, eyes staring at nothing. His legs shook, and he knew that was all Daniel and nothing to do with the attack. Clark was terrified, he was turned on, and he was desperate.

If he didn’t say it now, he never, ever would.

Clark moved so his mouth was next to Daniel’s ear, and he spoke so softly that someone two feet away couldn’t have made out the words.

“I think... I know what you want of me.” Clark closed his eyes. Darkness helped. “And I think I can -- want -- to do that with you. For you. Give that to you.” Clark frowned at the choice of words, but pushed on. “But you have to know that it’s not the physical part that bothers me, it’s the... I’ve...” Clark shuddered hard, thinking about Brian’s face when he smiled and trying not to think about how it looked when he died.

“There’s only been one,” Clark confessed. “One anything. And he’s dead. I saw him die. So if you want this from me, then it can’t be...” Clark’s voice broke. “It’s not light or easy. So if you want easy, then, God, please, just go...” Clark’s hands clutched at Daniel reflexively, showing he didn’t want that. He felt Daniel go still in his grasp. When he stopped speaking and searched for words -- for the courage to say them -- Daniel’s hold on Clark changed, palms opening and soothing against Clark’s too-warm skin. Clark slowly exhaled.

“But if it’s more, then stay.” Clark swallowed. “Please, Sir. Stay.”

Daniel shuddered. “I want you. So badly I can’t see straight, and nothing’s been easy with you.” Daniel laughed breathlessly. “What I’m trying to say is, damnit,
yes
, I’ll stay, and I’ll hold you and keep you as best I’m able.”

Clark froze and then sighed, a long, shaky, and stunned
“Oooh.”
He kissed Daniel’s neck, urgent, and went limp enough that his feet slid on the tile. Daniel’s arms caught him, wrapping Clark in a tight embrace. Daniel pressed him against the counter so that they wouldn’t fall. Groin to groin, Daniel ground into Clark.

With their body weight now supported by something other than just his arms, Daniel moved his hands into Clark’s hair, where his fingers gripped tightly. He turned Clark’s head to face him.

Caught in anticipatory breathlessness, the men looked at one another, lips parted. Then Daniel bent to kiss Clark. It wasn’t a gentle or a seductive kiss; it was a desperate, hard, near-attack on Clark’s mouth with lips, teeth, and tongue. Clark’s mind went blank, blissfully devoid of doubt, fear, or anything other than his neurons firing over sensation. He wanted, he
needed
, and God, this heaven was on fire. And Clark wanted more.

Clark gave as good as he got. He bit, licked, sucked, and pulled at Daniel’s mouth. Clark’s hands clutched Daniel for dear life and sanity. All Clark wanted was to prove with his body that he meant what he said, would give all he could, and would follow where Daniel led him.

Daniel broke the kiss and said, “Clark, please show me your bedroom, or I’m going to take you right here.”

Chapter 7

Blades of need lanced through Clark’s body, and he steamed the air between their faces with fast, hot breaths. The body against his felt perfect and necessary, and Daniel’s words made him flush. Clark pressed his lips together and nodded, pushing away from the counter so he could stand. And walk. And get Daniel to his bed.

Clark shuddered, and he made a quiet sound that rumbled in his chest. Fingers reluctantly letting go of Daniel’s clothing, he followed the line of Daniel’s arm to catch one of the professor’s hands. Clark felt that if he stopped touching this man for a single second, then Daniel might disappear, and the stability and glimpse of something that felt so right would vanish.

Moving on silent feet, Clark gently tugged Daniel through the apartment and into the back of the loft. One of the tall windows took up the wall to their left, the heavy drapes tied back and letting in city light that illuminated the room. The bed was neatly made, the surfaces clean except for a cluttered nightstand. Clark turned to look at Daniel. His eyes slid from face to chest to tattoo to groin and then slowly moved back up. He squeezed Daniel’s hand.

Stepping to the nightstand, Daniel flicked on the small lamp without letting go of Clark. “I love it when you look at me that way. Help me get undressed? I want more of your hands on my skin.”

Clark hummed in the back of his throat, thinking he couldn’t remember ever wanting someone this much in his life. The change in himself was swift and sure, making his breath and heart race, but it felt so
right
and so easy when he was touching Daniel that he focused on the professor entirely, letting the other man’s presence chase away doubt.

“Okay,” Clark said, as he rubbed his hands up Daniel’s bare arms and focused on the way the skin felt under his touch, loving its warmth and the strength it covered.

With a quiet intake of breath, Clark stroked Daniel’s shoulders before slipping down his chest. Clark looked up to Daniel’s face, saw that the professor’s eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted. Clark let his fingertips catch the ring through Daniel’s nipple and softly grunted when Daniel’s breathing stuttered.

Clark’s eyes traced the lines of the koi tattoo, and he tugged at the hem of the shirt before pulling it over Daniel’s head. The shirt fell to the floor, and Clark’s hands were back on Daniel’s skin immediately, fingertips tracing sides.

“Yes,” Daniel whispered. “Just like that... keep touching me,” he added in a firmer voice, “And go slow. If you go down on your knees for my pants, just... slow, please.”

Clark kneaded skin and flashed a smile. “Yes, Sir,” he said, humor wrapped around the two words. They were surprisingly easy to say to this man, especially when he felt Daniel shudder again.

Daniel gritted his teeth and shook his head. “From you... after all I’ve been through getting to you...” He shivered again and caressed Clark’s jaw. Clark blinked, and his eyes went down, unsure how to react or what to say.

Daniel caught Clark’s chin. “Having you call me ‘Sir’ makes it all worth it.”

Clark sighed and relaxed again. In the back of his mind, he thought that tomorrow morning was going to be an interesting and possibly painful experience, but for now there was just this, and the touch felt as good as everything else Daniel did. He leaned into Daniel before carefully going down on one knee. He kissed the skin at Daniel’s waist, tasting the inked flesh with the tip of his tongue. Daniel put both hands on Clark’s shoulders, and Clark wrapped an arm around to brace Daniel’s back, licking a slow, slick line across Daniel’s stomach while he began undoing the pants.

Daniel gasped, and Clark silently vowed to do anything to hear that sound again. As he managed to get the complicated ties and zipper undone, he nipped at the skin over the koi and felt one of Daniel’s hands in his hair, cradling the back of his head. Daniel’s other hand stayed on Clark’s shoulder as Clark grasped the leather and began working it down with both hands, finally freeing Daniel’s hard on.

“Oh...” Clark said softly, unable to help himself as he caught sight of the dusky-colored, thick cock next to his face. He made fast work of the pants and socks. Then he placed a kiss over Daniel’s hipbone, one hand sliding to knead the skin at the base of Daniel’s spine and the other lightly touching the back of Daniel’s thigh. His heart hammered and his blood sang with want -- the urge to touch, taste, have, hold, and feel.

Clark stood and hugged Daniel, clutching and kissing and not caring that he made desperate sounds. His cock demanded attention. Clark felt too hot, like he might come out of his skin.

And he
loved
it. Would have begged -- for something, anything -- if he could only have found the words.

***

Daniel ate up Clark’s sounds with a hunger that made him ache. Between Adam’s ministrations at Break and Clark’s touch now, he knew he wasn’t going to last long once they got started, but he wanted to give Clark what he could. He laid soft kisses on Clark’s eyelids and forehead. “Get on the bed and lie back, Clark.”

Clark complied, slowly lowering himself onto the mattress, eyes catching Daniel’s and abs flexing under the scarred skin.

Smiling, Daniel held Clark’s gaze with his own, hands seeking warmth. Daniel took one of Clark’s palms and pressed a kiss in the center of it. “I’m a little torn. I think you’d enjoy yourself more if you kept your hands behind your head and let me work, but I’m all right with you touching me. Just be gentle on my scalp if you catch my hair?”

Clark made a tender sound, gaze softening. He brushed the hair back from Daniel’s forehead, fingers tracing the skin. Daniel’s eyes widened when Clark touched the jagged line at the edge of Daniel’s scalp. Clark rose to kiss Daniel’s temple with a brush of lips, and Daniel’s breathing shook.

He knows.

“I’ll be careful with you,” Clark said against Daniel’s skin, then rested again on the bed, one hand still stroking Daniel’s hair.

Sudden tears spilled down Daniel’s cheeks. He bent to kiss Clark’s belly, his hand trailing along Clark’s side. He knew his breathing was ragged, but he couldn’t hide that. Daniel had no idea why Clark’s tenderness shook him. His parents’ murder had been twenty-eight years ago, and he’d dealt with it. He wasn’t that ten-year-old who had nearly died with them.

Daniel let each kiss linger, stayed to tongue the dip of Clark’s navel, and nipped at smooth skin until he reached the waistband of Clark’s pants. Clark’s breathing picked up pace, and his body rolled with Daniel’s touches. But when Clark reached down to stroke his hand over the side of Daniel’s face, his fingertips brushed the wetness on Daniel’s cheek, and Clark’s breath left in a visceral rush.

“Daniel,” Clark whispered, pained and needy. “Come here... please come here...” Clark gently pulled on Daniel’s arm.

Daniel tried to curl in on himself, to keep his confusion and uncertainty from showing, but at the pained sound of Clark’s voice, he felt something snap. This wasn’t a contract; this was something else. His brain worked furiously on why Clark’s touch and voice could so undo him. He wasn’t that ten-year-old, no, but he was the thirty-eight-year-old who had grown from that experience. Grown into someone who hated being out of control, who didn’t let himself be seen, even when he was on a stage making another man moan, and hadn’t been seen like this by anyone other than the family who had taken him in and loved him when he was small and vulnerable.

Daniel’s clients saw a fantasy come true. His students only saw the cool, working professor. Clark saw him as he’d seen Clark on the sidewalk -- with concern and care, not...

Maybe this isn’t vulnerability. Maybe this is letting someone love you.

Daniel sighed and gave in to Clark’s pull. He moved up Clark’s body, wiped away his tears as best he could, and sighed as more followed, beyond his control.

Arms wrapped around Daniel, and Clark rolled them to their sides. Clark pressed them together, one leg hooking over Daniel’s hip and one hand slipping to cradle Daniel’s skull. Gently, Clark began kissing away the tears, fingers caressing Daniel’s neck and through his hair. Daniel held Clark, his eyes closing, his breathing shaky.

“You know,” Daniel whispered. “You
knew
where to look.”

Clark nodded before pulling back to run his thumb over Daniel’s eyelid. “I know,” he said softly. “Wanted to see, touch. Try to erase the hurt. So help me, Daniel, nothing will hurt you like that ever again. I... couldn’t stand it.” Clark ran a hand over Daniel’s back and kissed his forehead.

With the promise and the kiss, Daniel looked at Clark and saw tear-filled eyes. He sighed and kissed Clark back before he said, “Now you know how I feel about you losing the one you loved. I wish... I wish I could just erase your pain, too.”

***

Clark kissed Daniel with a slow slide of lips to keep thoughts at bay; touching Daniel made images of the past fade into unimportance. “You help,” he said against Daniel’s mouth. “You...”

Unable to say that, thanks to Daniel, Clark was pain-free, sober, and clear-headed, he kissed Daniel again. Clark didn’t care about physiological anything; the only difference between this attack and the others was Daniel, and thus, Daniel made it easier.

With a quiet sound and a soft suck of Daniel’s lip, Clark reached and got his pants undone, pushing them down as the need to feel Daniel against him overrode all else.

Daniel slid along his side and got an arm free to help. He released Clark’s cock and smiled, bending to kiss a wide, discolored scar on Clark’s thigh before working the clothing over Clark’s legs. Once everything was clear, Daniel moved back up, and Clark struggled for air.

“Daniel... please...” Clark whisper-groaned, eyes squeezing shut and one hand grasping Daniel’s arm.

“What, Clark?” Daniel asked, concerned.

“You... block it out.” Clark didn’t think he could clarify “it.” Instead, he got his eyes open, fixing Daniel in a heated stare. “Just want you... mouth, hand, fingers, cock, I don’t care... just... God, Daniel
please
.”

Daniel rolled, reached for the lube on the nightstand, snagged one of the pillows, and pushed Clark onto his back. Clark went willingly, looking up at eyes dark-shot with lust.

Daniel touched the back of Clark’s legs, and Clark lifted up off the bed. Daniel stuffed the pillow under Clark’s lower back, got his shoulders under Clark’s knees, and bent to lick the soft skin between Clark’s entrance and balls. Clark gasped a syllable of shock and need, and his thoughts flickered like a TV with bad reception. “Oh,” he whispered, wrist coming up to cover his eyes. “
Oh...
”

Daniel made a greedy sound and licked back down to tease Clark with his tongue, stroking out from the center, probing each time. With every warm dip of Daniel’s tongue, Clark’s cock twitched. Moisture pooled at the tip, and Clark knotted the sheet in his fist. He sucked air into his lungs, and each exhale stuttered. It’d been so long since he let anyone do this --

Oh God, that feels... so...

-- and this was Daniel between his legs, making his pulse race, his cock ache, and encouraging the heat to lance through him in a building inferno.

Shit, he’s going to… oh fuck, I want him. So bad... so, so bad...

Clark didn’t
do
this, but he wanted it. He didn’t let himself need such things, but he was desperate.

The tears, his words, how he said he’d... stay. And keep me.

Daniel’s tongue probed harder, and the pressure and damp heat at the most private of places made Clark shudder hard enough to rock the bed. Daniel’s hands caressed the backs of Clark’s thighs, and Daniel grasped Clark’s cock. His thumb slid on the slickness of pre-come, stroking Clark’s slit, and his tongue slid into Clark’s ass.

“
Shit
,” Clark hissed, body jerking. The large muscles in his thighs spasmed, and he felt his legs spread wider of their own volition. “Oh... God. It’s been... so damned long...” Clark babbled in a low rush, his hips moving to encourage Daniel’s hand on his shaft.

Daniel hummed, a pleased sound of acknowledgement, and he closed his forefinger and thumb around Clark’s cock, gliding the tight ring over the top third. He licked up to Clark’s balls, mouthing them gently as he stroked. With his free hand, Daniel started patting the covers.

“
Nnn
-yeah,” Clark breathed, and it turned into a groan. The familiar slip into mere sensation pulled Clark down. His head fell to one side while his hands moved under his head, mindful of what Daniel might like and wanting... just wanting. He bit back a cry when Daniel traced a line up the underside of Clark’s cock with a wet tongue, and Daniel’s firm fingers continued their slow glide. Clark kept his gaze down, and his mouth fell open when Daniel’s lips closed over the tip, tongue roughly stroking the head, dipping into the slit and moving on. Clark couldn’t stop the noise he made. His head tossed when Daniel groaned and moved to take his cock more deeply.

“
Yeah
-- oh fuck --
yeah,
”
Clark encouraged, fingers locking together under his head in a white-knuckled clench. He managed to keep his hips still, but his breathing kicked up another notch as he heard the cap of the lube click open. The thought of Daniel fucking him made Clark grunt, brow furrowing as his dry lips parted to gasp.

Daniel moaned again before he dragged his lips off Clark’s cock, and their eyes locked.

“Clark, seeing you do what I asked,” Daniel whispered roughly, leaning into Clark’s legs. “God...” His shoulders rocked in a shiver as he spilled lube over his fingers. He laid the bottle down on the covers, then circled Clark’s cock again. Daniel’s breathing was slower than Clark’s, but not by much.

Clark swallowed just before cool, slicked fingers touched his anus, and Daniel teased sensitive skin. Clark’s back arched off the bed, and he dug his heels into the mattress as he rolled his head to meet Daniel’s gaze.

“Yeah...” Clark said, voice low and rough. “Just...” It was too hard to finish the sentence, so Clark nodded, head tossing to the side as Daniel’s hands teased his cock and entrance at the same time. The heat in his blood throbbed harder, and Clark heard his pulse like a steady, repeating plea in his own ears.