Danny’s moans were sweet and filthy all at once, his muscles taut and powerful as he wrapped around Mal and wouldn’t let go. Mal didn’t want to be let go. He wanted to get lost, wanted to be enveloped. He could feel Danny quivering and slowly, slowly starting to spark as their climaxes built on each other. And with it, Mal felt ice frost across his skin.
Cringing, he reined his powers back in.
“It’s okay,” Danny whispered. “It doesn’t hurt like that. You can let go.”
No, Mal thought,I can’t. “Prefer to save the fireworks for you,” he said rather than admit his fears and ruin their momentum.
They kissed. And kissed. Even Danny’s tongue tingled with his power. Foreheads pressed together, eyes open but blinking blearily, Mal saw something he’d only caught glimpses of before in battle as they rode out their release and finished together.
Danny’s eyes—glowing with his lightning. They were so beautiful like that.
Before Mal could reach up to brush his remaining tears away, Danny did it for him. For a few moments, with Danny’s thumbsstroking beneath his eyes and Mal staring back at the lingering traces of lightning in Danny’s, they didn’t speak. But they kissed and remained tangled up until the mess between them demanded attention.
“I got it,” Danny said, and it seemed only moments passed before he returned to wipe them clean, then laid on the floor and wrapped Mal in his arms like snuggling a body pillow.
Mal almost laughed, but the sound got lost somewhere as he realized that if it had been anyone else, he’d have pushed them away and demanded space. Too many minutes like this and he still would, but Danny could get away with things no one else ever had.
“Sorry,” Danny said, as if right that moment he remembered Mal wasn’t one for touch, especially tight clinging that made him feel trapped. Pulling back, Danny remained lying facing him, both of them propped on their sides, parallel.
Mal grasped the back of Danny’s neck and kissed him again. Slower. Softer. Dangerous. Mal wasn’t made of glass. Neither of them was. Harder stuff than glass cracked and broke sometimes too.
“I’m sorry about the suit,” Danny said when they pulled apart. “And the bed.”
“Pretty sure that part was my fault.” Mal looked back at his frozen mattress and sheets. It would thaw, eventually, but it would make a mess of the bedroom if he left it, and nothing could save the bed from the damage and dampness. He’d have to replace it.
“But I—”
“Forget it, Sparky. You’ll find ways to pay me back. Do you want—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Danny said when Mal turned back to him. “Not right now.”
“Okay. Suit looks good on you. When I can see it. Meant more for Ludgate, I take it?”
“Yeah.”
“Driving you that crazy, huh?”
“Him. And other things.” They were quiet for a few moments before Danny’s eyes brightened and he refocused on Mal. “Hey, what were you going to watch before I came in? You had Netflix up.”
Mal raised an eyebrow at him but decided to be honest. “Big Trouble in Little China.”
“Really?” Danny laughed. “I love that movie. Especially the end, when Kurt Russell gets knocked out at the start of the battle and everyone else kicks butt without him. Classic.”
Mal was in so much trouble with this kid. He couldn’t stop the offer from tumbling past his lips, “You got somewhere better to be right now?” But that was the most dangerous offer of all, because it was so much more than sex between nemeses.
Blinking at him, blank for a moment, Danny smiled. “Not tonight.”
They rose from the floor and dressed in sleep clothes—Danny borrowing some of Mal’s like he had the other day. Mal’s shirt and jeans went into the hamper; Danny’s new suit was folded and set on the end table in the living room, while his boots were placed on the rug where they belonged. The bed could wait until tomorrow.
Mal enjoyed the silly and private joke they shared, the way he glared at Danny the entire time he walked the boots to the door; the way Danny rolled his eyes but apologized as if the boots were far worse than how he had acted when he first showed up.
While Danny pulled up the movie, Mal made popcorn and grabbed sodas from the fridge because, “It’s a movie, Sparky. Some things are mandatory.” When Danny mentioned that Milk Duds would have been nice, Mal pressed the soda he’d beenabout to offer him to the side of Danny’s neck, making him hiss and jump up from the sofa.
“Jerk. Sheesh. Though I suppose it figures, coming from you, Ice Man.”
“My diabolical plans with frigid props knows no bounds.”
Danny erupted into a full-on belly laugh at that. It was the most soothing sound Mal had heard in ages.
