The Makeup

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
[edited from what is on my writing website.]
Introduction:
This is somewhat better than the first, I'm still not used to writing slash. Tim really wants to settle the differences that have occured between him and Danny. He needs to change Danny's mind for that to happen... but how?

Disclaimer:
Not a canon relationship, it has never occured to the public knowledge and I'm not pointing fingers. Certain things belong to other people... I just wanted to "play" with them.

Rated For:
My potty mouth fingers, male/male love, and Danny teaches about sex and a relationship without being explicit. XD

Submitted: February 04, 2008

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Submitted: February 04, 2008

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If Erik’s mask was meant to hide a physical deformity from those that would shun him, then I was hiding a mental one. I was miserable as hell from this whole fight, this whole stupid disagreement, but I hid it. I appeared stubborn; I wasn’t going to be the one who apologized first.
 
I sat there in my armchair and stared at the wall. The room contained no natural light, the only light came from the small fireplace. I was still doing this fascinating composing stuff without him, so why was I miserable? Oh that’s right, maybe one shouldn’t sleep with their employer.
 
I just need to overlook that. It was a one time thing, something that doesn’t happen again. Something you do to defy your personality… and then everything returns to normal.
 
They say sex can strengthens a good romantic relationship. Well, it totally fucks with a good platonic relationship. And so I contradicted myself, everything does not return to normal. And it was his entire damn fault because he suggested it.
 
The pissed feeling made me happy, but it did not last. The phone rang, the lack of light made it hard to see who was calling, so I just sighed and picked it up.
 
“Hello?”
“Uh, Dan…”
 
I hung up the phone. The pissed feeling was still there and I did not want to hear his apology just yet. In fact, I was considered I was just fine without him. After all, it was his fault. The phone rang again. Reason would have told me to ignore it, but I answered it.
 
“Yes?”
“Danny…”
“Look, I don’t want to hear you grovel. Can you not fucking call me?”
“Just listen to me.”
I half sighed, half growled into the phone, “Ok Prima Donna, the stage is yours.”
“Uh… thanks. Anyways… I wanted to… um…”
“Spit it out or I’m hanging up.”
“Can I come over and talk to you? After all you still seem to be the asshole we all love and know.”
Reason lost out again, “If you think it’s absolutely necessary.”
 
And with that I hung up and slammed the phone back into the cradle.
 
-------
 
About an hour later I heard the faint knock of knuckles on a door. Where the hell had he been when he called me? I reluctantly got up out of the chair and unlocked the door. I opened it and watched him slither through the door.
 
Fuck, I had a sick feeling of lust come over me and I almost lost my composure. They say lust is one of the deadly sins. I’m the kind of person who loves sin… I didn’t love this one.
 
“I’m sorry,” he muttered as he looked at his feet.
“Like hell you better be,” I was still pretty pissed.
 
He walked towards me and put his hand on my shoulder. I shook him off of me and glared at him.
 
“Don’t touch me,” I barked.
 
He yelped and backed away with a timid look in his eyes. He was frightened, but when wasn’t he? As he collected himself from the attack I looked him over. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days. My sadistic nature pleased that I made him more of a wreck than he already was. He was shaking as his mouth went to form words.
 
“You were right, Danny.”
“I know I was.”
“But you’re still a huge asshole.”
“I know I am.”
“I really am sorry,” he said in such a pitiful voice.
 
I couldn’t hold it any longer, my mindset snapped. It was like he had pulled off my mask, now I was having a panic reaction. I paced the room insanely for a few moments, muttering to myself and putting my hand against my forehead. Slowly I calmed down, I was almost crying.
 
“I… am…,” I choked on the words, “as well.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
 
He was still shaking, but managed to crack a small grin. I smiled and almost half-lifted him into the air. I probably would have managed, but hell I was getting old and my back said no. He laughed after he realized it was not an attempt to kill him.
 
We put our arms around each other, that damn bastard was an inch and a half taller than I was. It was meant to be a friendly embrace, but it became much more. My back protesting, I picked him up and carried him over to the chair I was brooding in earlier. I flopped myself down with him on top of me, the tangled mess that was his hair buried my face. He turned around and kissed me lightly on the lips.
 
“Promise to never fight again?”
“I promise is just two words, but… I promise.”
 
And with that I laughed and went to return to kiss, letting him ‘borrow’ my tongue for a few minutes.


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