| New Hot Fuzz fic: "Perfection" - Nick/Danny - R |
[Sep. 10th, 2008|11:32 pm] |
Title: Perfection
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Pairing: Nicholas/Danny
Rating: R
Notes: God help me, but those reporters and their irrelevant questions are kind of intriguing. Like my first piece, this is a stand-alone, first-time story. But since When to Stop is from Nicholas's perspective, I figured I'd better do this one from Danny's.
Summary: What's your idea of a perfect...?
Perfect Autumn
"You ever done trick-and-treating?" Danny asked, contemplating the Minstrel he was about to pop in his mouth. "I hear some bits of London've got loads of Americans, you know, diplomats and such. Keeps all the wives and kids busy for the whole of October." The chocolate shell crunched satisfyingly between his teeth. Mmm.
"Trick-or-treating," Nicholas corrected him, eyes fixed on the reader. "And yes, it's true of some of the more affluent neighborhoods. A few streets down from where I grew up, we'd see kids in costumes going door to door. Twenty-five."
"Kind of cool, if you ask me. Although Bonfire Night's way better. Twenty-nine! Cuttin' it close." Danny winced, his right hand creeping instinctively to his chest.
"You'd better not overdo it," Nicholas warned, tearing his eyes away from the reader, his voice dark with concern. "You're lucky the doctors are letting you do this much."
"I can handle it. Just got a bit carried away, is all. Hey, thirty."
"Eat your Minstrels and leave it to me," Nicholas sighed, sheepishly reaching over to steal a handful. "Haven't you got a new notebook to draw in?"
"Left it at home," Danny confessed, offering the whole bag. "Besides, I've eaten too many."
Hesitantly, Nicholas nodded and took the bag. He tossed back three of the chocolates, then tucked the rest away in the door's storage compartment. "Twenty-seven."
"I bet they have amazing sweets in America. Maybe we should introduce trick-or-treating here in Sandford! I bet it would really catch on."
"Do you have any idea what a mess it leaves? We'd be stepping in chewing-gum and picking up Flumps wrappers for weeks. No to mention the vandalism - "
"Better watch it," Danny said, giving Nicholas a meaningful glance. "You're starting to sound like them."
"Oh, shut it. To tell you the truth, I sometimes miss all the bustle. What? I do!"
"So what would you dress as, then? Kermit the Frog?"
"One need not dress up to hand out sweets. Thirty-one, Danny, let's - "
"Aw, let 'im go," Danny sighed, patting Nicholas on the arm. "I know! You could wear your uniform."
Nicholas glared at him, slumping back into his seat. "People are bloody sick of seeing me in my uniform."
"I'd wear mine, too," said Danny, hopefully. "You wouldn't be alone."
"Thanks, Danny," Nicholas said, offering him that small, private smile. "It's the thought that counts." He rummaged in the storage department, producing a few Minstrels.
Danny accepted them eagerly and ate them one by one. The last, he reached over and set against Nicholas's lips. Nicholas almost spit it out for laughing. Yeah, trick-or-treat!
Perfect Christmas
"So help me, if this is another peace lily? You're done for. Don't get me wrong, they're nice and all, but I don't think I've got room for any more - oh."
The loosely sellotaped wrapping paper fell away beneath Danny's careful fingers, exposing a protective layer of clear plastic. The orchid's blossoms were white stained with deep purple, elegant in their exotic simplicity. Beside him, Nicholas had one fist pressed to his mouth, as if he'd expected Danny would be disappointed.
"Nicholas, it's beautiful," Danny said, setting the plant gingerly down well clear of their feet. "It's going to take a lot of looking-after, isn't it? Orchids are picky, Leslie Tiller used to say." He bit his lip, briefly looking away. "Sorry you had to see that. Her dying, I mean. I don't think I ever asked if you were all right."
"I'm fine, Danny," Nicholas reassured him, only as at-ease as such a high-strung bloke as himself ever got. "I've kept orchids in the past - in London. I'll help you look after it."
"I'm afraid a box might fall on it," said Danny, nervously. But that wasn't all he was afraid of.
"You should really think about unpacking. I mean - when the holidays are over, of course. I'd be happy to help you. No use letting all the space you've got here go to waste, although I think you should have a word with the landlady about that leak in your bathroom ceiling. I don't know the first thing about fixing pipes."
"Neither do I," Danny admitted, hazarding a grin. "You got plans for New Year's?"
"Nah," said Nicholas, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. "Just staying at home here in good old Sandford, maybe nipping 'round the pub with my best mate."
"You're even starting to talk like us," Danny said, awkwardly fishing between the cushions. "So, I hope you don't mind this is a bit squashed..."
Nicholas leaned forward, instantly alert. He took the small parcel in both hands, turning it a few times before pulling off the badly squashed bow. "You didn't have to go to any trouble, Danny."
"S'no trouble at all," Danny reassured him. "Go on, open it!"
Nicholas spent several long moments struggling with the botched wrap-job. He finally got down to the faux-leather black jewelry box, which gave a satisfying squeak when he opened it. His eyes rested on its contents for a few startled seconds, darted questioningly to Danny's face, and then back to the box. "Danny, you didn't - "
"I thought it might look nice on the chain with that other medal you've got. A bloke needs all the protection he can get in our line of work, right? Hey, check out the reverse - it's engraved, even."
Nicholas bit his lip as he flipped the thing over with delicate application of thumb and forefinger, reading slowly. "Yeah, Danny. It has been. Thanks."
"And here's to many more," Danny said, retrieving his bottle of lager. "So, what're we doing for New Year's after nipping 'round the pub?" The flutter in his chest had eased somewhat, as had the tense ripple of pain beneath his scars. Bloody things.
Nicholas looked up from the task of unbuttoning his shirt, the chain already caught up in his fingers. "I hadn't thought about it, to be honest. Would you mind...?"
"No," said Danny, hastily, taking the box off of Nicholas. He removed the medal from its linchpin, just in time to watch Nicholas fiddle the clasp of his chain free. "May I..."
Nicholas nodded and held the chain in place while Danny slipped the opposite end through the bale of the pendant. He coaxed the clasp out of Nicholas's grasp and refastened it for him, turning it all about until the medals fell just so below Nicholas's collarbone. There. Nicholas's eyes were fixed intently on Danny's hand against his chest.
Danny straightened Nicholas's collar and hastily folded his hands in his lap. "Looks right and proper, that does. Gold suits you."
"I got you a fucking orchid," Nicholas said, and it was only then that Danny realized he was more drunk than he'd previously let on. "What'm I supposed to do now?"
"Nothing," Danny said. "The orchid is amazing, in case you hadn't noticed!"
Nicholas slumped back against the couch and fished on the side table for his beer. "Merry Christmas, Danny. I'll do better next year, I promise."
"You couldn't if you tried," Danny said, and, to hell with it, reached over and took Nicholas's hand. "Merry Christmas, Nicholas. I wouldn't spend it any other way."
Wordlessly, Nicholas squeezed back.
Perfect New Year's
The evening had gone uneventfully so far, except for the part where they'd had to escort Cartwright and Wainwright home, one after the other, on counts of semi-indecent exposure. Danny was pretty sure Nicholas had made that up on the spot, but he'd been willing to go along with it. The pub would be a more agreeable place without them harrassing Doris and every other reasonably young woman in sight.
"What time is it?" Danny asked, dragging Nicholas up to the counter. "Two pints of the guest ale, please!"
"Eleven forty-six," said Nicholas, taking his glass with unsteady hands. "We'd better cut ourselves off pretty soon. We need to be able to walk home."
"Don't worry!" Doris shouted, clearly just as drunk as her tormentors had been. "Danny'll carry you!" Her laughter ricocheted gratingly off every glass in the room.
Danny ignored her and turned to Nicholas, whose cheeks were reddening ever so slightly. "C'mon, let's go outside. The beer garden's open. It's not so cold."
"I suppose not," said Nicholas, gratefully following him out.
"Pity we can't see the telly, though," Danny said, shoving his free hand deep in his pocket. "It's kind of tradition. I wish Dad could be here."
"We'll go see him tomorrow," Nicholas said, setting his free hand on Danny's shoulder. "How's that?"
"Yeah, all right," sighed Danny, turning to face him. "As long as you're not too hung-over."
"I don't get hung-over," said Nicholas, indignantly. "I just get...headaches."
"That's pretty much what a hang-over is, to be fair," Danny reminded him.
"Whatever. My point is, I don't...won't...get a headache."
"That's really sweet," Danny said, staring at his feet. If he wasn't careful, this whole plan was going to go pear-shaped. "Thanks, Nicholas."
"But we're not going if you've got a hang-over."
That gave them both a few moments' laughter, followed by a stretch of awkward silence. Nicholas smiled and looked up at Danny almost shyly. "You think we're off to a good start?"
"What d'you mean do I think we're - oh. Fuck. What time is it?"
Nicholas glanced at his watch. "Nearly there. Anything you'd like to say, any resolutions you'd like to make? Me, I'm crap at resolutions. I usually don't make them." Nicholas took Danny's glass off of him, setting it aside on one of the abandoned wooden tables with his own. "This calls for a bit of gravity. Drinks can wait."
It was the most that Nicholas had said in one breath all evening. Danny returned the smile, shrugging, drawing his hands out of his pockets as casually as he could manage. "I think we've done all right so far. All that do-gooding and shit, saving poor Doris from the clutches of evil..." Danny's mouth went dry, and he swallowed.
"Clutches of gross idiocy is more like it," said Nicholas, unexpectedly closing the space between them. "Listen, when you asked me if I had any plans, was that..." He swallowed, apparently no more able than Danny to continue.
"We've got plans now," Danny offered, abruptly scared. "Like you said, we'll go see Dad. He'll appreciate it."
"I was thinking more along the lines of tonight," Nicholas said, his cheeks burning redder than before. His eyes were fixed on their feet.
"Oh," Danny murmured, his heart swelling with relief. "Well, it was..."
Nicholas was looking at him now, his eyes all at once hopeful and guarded.
"The stupidest come-on I ever thought up," Danny mumbled, taking his turn to stare at the ground. "M'sorry, Nicholas. I shouldn't beat around the bush. You don't deserve it."
"Perhaps not," Nicholas said, "but I at least hope I deserve you. It's midnight."
Danny could scarcely hear the pounding of his heart above all the hoots and whistles that hounded them from inside. Nicholas's lips were gentle and warm and everything he'd hoped they'd be. Behind Nicholas's back, which was facing the window, he indicated with two emphatic fingers that the whole lot of them could jog the fuck on. This was his New Year's kiss, and he wasn't about to let anybody ruin it.
Perfect Sunday
The walk home was all giddy, drunken stumbling, and since Nicholas's place was closest, that's where they ended up. There was an awkward moment on the front steps, followed by Nicholas swearing a blue streak as he rummaged in his pockets for the keys.
"You must owe the box ten quid by now," Danny said, shuffling his feet.
Two seconds later, Nicholas got the door open and stumbled through. Just a few steps behind him, Danny caught hold of his coat to keep him from falling. Instead, it turned out that Nicholas's momentum was enough to drag both of them down. Danny huffed, fingers flying to where Nicholas's heel had jammed into his ribs. For a few startled seconds, they lay there blinking at each other, and then started to laugh. Danny found his feet first, offering Nicholas a hand. No sooner were they up than Nicholas kissed him again, quick and fierce, as if he feared he might lose his nerve.
"Stay," Nicholas said, his voice unbearably strained. "Unless you've got plans, that is."
"Must've read my mind," Danny murmured in reply, tugging him close. "Besides, you haven't shown me properly around the place. I haven't seen what's upstairs."
Nicholas's bedroom was roughly the size of his old hotel room - only cleaner, brighter, and much more homey. Nicholas drifted over to the window where, amazingly, his peace lily sat thriving. That he had been able to scoop up and save the thing in the wake of smashing it over Lurch's head was, in Danny's estimation, the finest example of his astonishing tenacity to date. Danny followed him, peering curiously out into the street. Hesitantly, he reached out, his fingers skimming along Nicholas's upper arms.
"It's so quiet," Nicholas said, catching hold of Danny's hands as they crept up to his shoulders. "You wouldn't know it's a whole new year. Nobody's banging pots and pans in the streets, nobody's out singing - "
Danny turned Nicholas around, cutting him short. The sight of Nicholas's fond, tired eyes was enough to patch the last few cracks in his resolve. He leaned in and pressed his mouth to the soft skin below Nicholas's earlobe, relishing the feel of standing cheek to cheek.
"Nobody's watching," Danny whispered, tugging at his elbows. "Not now. C'mon."
Nicholas threw down the covers in one fell swoop, every line of his posture radiating tension. The sheets looked cool and clean - cooler and cleaner than Danny's, anyway - and when they sat down side by side on the edge of the mattress, it barely sagged. Danny gave a good bounce, testing for feedback. The mattress remained unmoved.
"We'll just have to break it in, that's all."
Danny snapped his head up and blinked at Nicholas, not quite believing what he'd just heard. Nicholas was trying his level best to keep a straight face, but a smile played comically at the corners of his mouth, just daring Danny to do something about it.
Wrestling Nicholas free of his jumper proved to be a somewhat difficult task, but beneath that, his shirt buttons were slow, easy going. Danny took his time, his eyes fixed on the medals where they glinted smartly against Nicholas's pale chest. Nicholas was ticklish, as it turned out: Danny's hands resting lightly on his sides triggered a short burst of laughter. Danny kissed him for it, taking the opportunity to slip a hand tentatively down to his fly. Nicholas tensed, but only for a moment. When Danny eased his hand lower, getting in a good, firm squeeze, Nicholas made a sound that was somewhere between ahhh and several of Danny's failed attempts at swan-song.
"Cocktease," he muttered, his fingers absently stroking through Danny's hair.
"I don't think that's on the list of swears," Danny said, and slid down onto his knees.
Nicholas tasted like salt and skin, musky, with the faintest trace of what Danny was sure he'd think of, in time, as simply just him. He'd feared he might find this unpleasant, but any and all peculiarities became instantly bearable when Nicholas tightened his grasp on Danny's shoulders and gasped his name, helplessly, over and over.
By the time it was his turn, they were both naked and stretched out full-length on the bed, tangled up in the sheets - no longer so cool or so clean - and in each other.
It wasn't until later, about the time dawn had begun to creep on the horizon, that Danny murmured, sleepily, his cheek plastered firmly to Nicholas's chest and his fingers caught up in the chain at the nape of his neck, "I think I'm getting a bit hung-over."
Nicholas yawned and rubbed his back, his lips pleasantly grazing Danny's forehead.
"We'll still go see your dad. Visiting hours'll go fairly late. It's a holiday."
"It's Sunday," sighed Danny, contentedly, and finally drifted off to sleep.
- On to Part II: Adjustments - |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
