#fo*

Not that it was any surprise, the man has his needs, obviously, nothing wrong with that. And despite how logical it seemed, it bothered Daniel still, he’s spent the past couple days trying to figure out why.

He’s been laying there with his eyes closed, trying to force his body back into sleep for more than half an hour now with no results. The heat growing in his groin was definitely not helpful. It wasn’t the first time, either. As always, he was just trying to ignore it, wait it through. He refused to get up, even if work would do a much better job creating a distraction for his thoughts, he wanted to fall back asleep, dammit.

The more he tried to control his thoughts, the more his mind wandered. Daniel tossed to his other side, telling himself not to think of what made him this mad. Not to picture what York was like in bed. Not to picture what York’s lips would feel like against his skin and what he could do with those strong hands.

Daniel’s eyes snapped open and he turned to lay on his back. He wanted to punch himself. Thinking of him was as infuriating and exhausting as it was tempting. Three layers of blankets have become too warm at this point, so they only covered his legs now and he cursed under his breath, rubbing his eyes, then staring into the ceiling, hoping to will his arousal away.

It took him a while before he gave up and his hand crept under the blankets, slowly and he exhaled when it settled on his crotch. It’s been a long time since he’s been with anyone. Years, actually. Wasn’t his habit to take care of those things himself but fuck, maybe he could just this once. Thinking of his best friend in this context felt wrong, he tried to imagine someone else but it seemed like York was the only thing on his mind right now.

Daniel swallowed, looked away from his hand as he touched himself through the sweatpants he was wearing. He wanted York’s hand there instead of his own, York’s lips on his neck, teeth grazing his skin, marking with dark purple spots that he could admire for days after. His eyes fluttered closed at the thought of York’s body against him, he felt his erection grow and slipped his cold fingers below the waistband of his underwear, driving them up his length before wrapping them around it.

His breath was getting heavier at the image of York grinding against him, pushing down into the bed, strong fingers digging in Daniel’s flesh. He thought about the hardness of his muscles, about touching him, scratching his back, feeling his every move under his fingertips, all while they were kissing, deep and desperate and sloppy. At some point, he pulled his pants down and shoved the blankets away, stroking himself after spitting on his hand. His breath was shaky now, heart beating fast and he turned to his side, almost laying on his stomach to hide his face in the crook of his arm.

Daniel was mad someone else than him got to be with York that way. Even though York had the right to, Daniel was mad. Still didn’t understand what this anger meant. He’s seen York at his best and at his worst. He’s seen him hurt and vulnerable. He knew him. He wanted to wrap his arms around his shoulders, pull him close, feel the warmth of his skin and all that strength he always found impressive. He hated that someone else got to see him like that. Like some deep secret York kept from no one but Danie.

That was quickly replaced by the thought of York grabbing his thighs and sliding himself inside him and it made Daniel let out a moan he was trying to hold back. He wondered what York’s eyes would look like. If he could see the fire in them as York looked down at him, focused, thrusting with force. The sounds he’d make, low grunts right by Daniel’s ear.

That weird feeling of guilt didn’t leave him even for a second but he didn’t care now. Ignored the noise outside the bedroom, as risky as it was. He was too close to stop now. He moved his hips against his fist, hand speeding up as well, his lips were parted.

Imagining York’s fingers in his mouth seemed to be helping as Daniel’s muscles twitched and legs shook. Hearing footsteps outside, he hoped they weren’t getting close to his room. What really did it for him was York wrapping his hand around Daniel’s throat and kissing him, both their mouths open and breathing heavily. Daniel came gripping the sheets, eyes shut, holding back on making any noises.

Before he could even take one deep breath, the bedroom door opened, “Are you awake yet? I need help with the- oh, shit!” Daniel snapped immediately, grabbing the blankets to cover himself as York burst out laughing. He was kind enough to look away, at least.

“Did no one fucking teach you to knock?!” Daniel yelled, his face turning deep red, as if it wasn’t already. York just kept chuckling like a fucking asshole.

“Sorry, we’ll talk later,” he said, walking away. His laughter carrying through the house. At that moment, there was no sound in existence more annoying than this.

“Fuck,” Daniel whispered to himself, falling back onto his pillows. He had no idea how he was going to look York in the face after that. He wanted to sink into the ground and become one with the earth. Cursed himself for being so stupid.

It was slowly getting dark outside and inside was getting harder to see. Once he found a candle in York’s bag, he set it down on the coffee table and lit it. It wasn’t much but it would have to do.

Next was the first aid kit. That one didn’t take long to find. They’ve been using it so often, the bloody fingerprints were still on the box. Usually, it wasn’t anything as serious as now. Most of the time, Daniel just insisted they don’t go around without properly cleaning any injuries first.

There was no telling how bad it was with all that stuff York was wearing. Daniel sat down next to him with the metal box on his lap and after getting his hand out of the way, started undoing the leather straps holding York’s chest piece in place, which landed on the floor shortly.

“Help me take this off,” he grabbed the collar of York’s jacket to slide it down his shoulders but that only looked easier than it was.

“Fuck,” York growled under his nose when Daniel nervously tried to remove his arms from the sleeves. “Careful, would you?” Daniel gave him an angry look and pulled the jacket off with one move, making York yell out a curse and grab his shoulder again. “Thanks a lot, asshole,” he winced but his gaze softened gradually after Daniel lightly pressed a hand against his chest to make him lean back.

The flannel shirt York was wearing was completely covered in blood. Still couldn’t see much besides a complete mess on his shoulder. Soon, the shirt landed on the floor as well, removed carefully this time, not to cause York any more pain. Got rid of the shades somewhere along the line, too.

Daniel was nervous. Adrenaline didn’t give him time to worry before but now… he hated seeing York like this. Just wanted to get this over with and go home. Though from the looks of it, they’d have to spend the night in this house. As long as the raiders don’t figure it out, Daniel could live with that.

York’s shoulder looked worse than it actually was. After pouring some water over the injury, it revealed a clean gunshot wound with the bullet not too deep in. And still intact. One good thing about raiders - imbeciles only had those shitty makeshift weapons. Things could barely do more damage than a BB gun.

“It’s not that bad,” he smiled at York. “You’ll live,” then reached for the bag once more.

“I got doctor Harper with me, right?” Daniel snorted as he removed his own jacket and scarf. From the bag he pulled out a bottle of vodka and opened it. “Oh, hey, you’re reading my- SHIT!” York yelled out and squirmed when Daniel poured the alcohol onto the wound. His hand kept him firmly in place, though. He thrust the bottle into York’s hand and the man took a big gulp.

With barely enough time to recover from the awful sting, Daniel has already started on getting the bullet out. They had no proper tools, just a small knife they kept in the box. York clenched his teeth and dug his nails into Daniel’s thigh as the man focused on getting it over with as fast as possible. It was messy. The wound bled and the knife wasn’t helping much. He was digging into the wound, trying to cause less damage than there already was while York patiently endured the pain, only letting out a grunt once in a while. Spared any unnecessary remarks, though. Thank god.

Finally, after an intense couple minutes, the bullet was out and Daniel looked at it closely with a satisfied smirk, then threw it away and poured some vodka on the open flesh, then covered it with clean cloth immediately.

York took another sip when he got the bottle back and his eyes met Daniel’s. The grip on his thigh loosened but York didn’t take his hand away.

Time seemed to pause as they stared at each other quietly, appreciating the silence. Daniel couldn’t help but enjoy the firm touch on his leg and the way York looked at him with those tired eyes. Thought about how he always had the most questionable timing for displays of affection. That was part of why he liked the man so much. Strong and capable, in more ways than just physical, confident, intelligent. But he was like an iceberg, that was only on the surface and Daniel loved how he knew things about York that no one else did. Loved what those things actually were.

Soon the cloth pressed against York’s chest got completely soaked. His body was warm, even warmer where the wound was so Daniel was reluctant to let go and interrupt this peaceful moment.

“I have to stitch you up,” he said, barely above a whisper, to which York reacted by having a gulp of vodka yet again. He braced himself, Daniel felt his nails digging into his pants again and the needle hasn’t even touched his skin. When it did, though, Daniel was as quick as possible. But not any less careful.

“I like watching you work,” York smiled, looking at Daniel’s furrowed brows.

“The vodka’s starting to kick in?” Daniel asked, after wondering if he should comment on that at all.

“Do I need alcohol to tell you something nice?” the hand that was resting on Daniel’s thigh now slowly moved up, just enough for York’s fingertips to reach Daniel’s butt.

“York,” he said in a serious tone, after he pressed his lips together for a split second, to hide a smile.

“Hmm?”

“I’m trying to concentrate,” he would’ve slid York’s hand a bit lower if he wasn’t just stitching the idiot.

“Good. You should be,” that smug look Daniel caught from the corner of his eye had him let out a small chuckle.

His fingers worked swiftly with the thread, needle pushing through flesh smoothly until the wound was closed, way sooner than Daniel was expecting. He cleaned it with the remaining vodka, washed the dried blood from York’s torso as well, before grabbing a thick gauze and pressing it down. With York’s help, he wrapped a bandage around his chest and over the shoulder, then tucked all the medical equipment back into the backpack.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, turning to York.

“I am now,” he said, hand wandering up to rest on Daniel’s hip. The man sighed. Part tired, part relieved. There was a long night ahead of him. A long night of thinking about what could’ve happened if things didn’t turn out as well as they did. With the threat still out there and a wounded man to protect. Something he still wasn’t used to, even after all those months.

He ran his fingers up York’s face, then through his mohawk, lazily, appreciating that he was still alive, how beautiful the candlelight looked on his dark skin.

“What are you thinking about, Danny?” York spoke after a moment, drawing circles with his thumb on Daniel’s hip. Daniel still hated the nickname but he had to admit, he didn’t mind it that much coming from York’s mouth.

“Nothing,” he whispered in return, reaching to adjust the edge of the bandage on York’s shoulder, something else to focus his gaze on.

And York didn’t pressure him for answers, just leaned into the touch and sank deeper into the couch. Daniel wanted to say how worried he was and how much the thought of losing him terrified him. Instead, he got closer, slowly, brushed the tip of his nose against York’s cheek and placed a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. York smiled, pulled him closer until their foreheads were pressed together. Both of them closed their eyes and sat there until Daniel heard some tiny snores developing in York’s breathing. Enough to assume he was slowly starting to fall asleep.

“Come here, big guy,” Daniel said, adjusting into a more comfortable position, half sitting so York rested his head on his chest and immediately closed his eyes again.

The candle burned for half an hour more, went dark long after York was already asleep. Daniel sat there, holding his sleeping boyfriend, counting the minutes left until dawn and keeping an ear out for anything suspicious. So peaceful he could almost forget why they were there in the first place.