#danyl talks

doesn't matter if it begins to be something hot and sexy with a certain goal. to take care of them, to be at the other party's hands at your most vulnerable. to tend to someone when they're helpless and sick, cannot move a limb on their own, reliant on your help.

gently massaging the scalp to your perfect liking and need. finding the spots that make you melt, ones that make you contract your whole body, applying perfectly calculated pressure to spots that each need it.

dragging your nails down their body, feeling every little bump of prickly skin, their curves, dips, fat and flesh as your finger tips graze against their skin. how they get goosebumps at certain spots and shiver at others.

gently scrubbing their skin, feeling them ease into you, melt into you slowly. water pouring down on the both of you and the temperature is a long forgotten convern whether its 'perfect' to one's liking or not. all the coldness they require comes from your lithe touches- all the warmth you need is provided from their body. all the barreers down, relaxed and easing into one another, not a worry in sight, still a little flustered. hands roam and massage long enough that this feels like the only moment the two of you have ever existed, a small moan escaping their lips.

To cross off the obvious that the very action itself is a mistake, you have a secondary reason at home as to why you’d rather have anyone else over than him.

He enters, shoes off, and while you disappear to get some things done, he settles down to his content, looking up and down at the place and things you’ve placed, all the little details to you you’d never admit to him with a brave face on- or without the assistance of alcohol.

One ear perked up as you clean the litter box, give the bathroom one final finishing touch, make sure to lock the door to your bedroom, you’re content to hear that lack of a sound of pattering feet running around.

Maybe you take your victories too early. That will be the end of you surely. From the corner of his eye, Kaiser feels a set of eyes watching over him from a corner. Big, fluffy, and painfully blond- the yellow cat stares at him from afar with a little curiosity. Then decides it’s his appointed time for attention and worship, jumps from his corner and graces Kaiser with his presence, demanding his sole attention.

By the time you return to the living room with the bullet dodged- or so you think, you do not expect to see Michael Kaiser sprawled over your couch, fitting the environment more than to your liking, and next to him your traitor of a cat who resembles Michael more than anything.

His one hand gently petting the fur and the traitor hairball looking a little too content with his current predicament, you find yourself frozen- praying to whatever god is up there that at least he didn’t catch sight of the cat’s name.

Slowing down his motions, as your cat begins nibbling on his hand in dismay at this, Kaiser looks over to you with a smug expression.

“I knew your infatuation on me was catastrophic bordering fixation now but I didn’t think you’d go get your own little monster to make up for my absence in your home life, you know?”

Oh, he sounds absolutely delighted, you are never going to live this down- in the history of accidental fuck ups, you couldn’t have done worse if you tried.

“But if you play nice,” he drags the words as he redirects his attention back to the needy traitor with a shrug, “you might even get to see the real thing. Up to you, really.”

You and which blorbo(s)

“You do nothing but eat and hunt all day!”

“Set yourself free in the forest and I’ll hunt and eat you all day.”