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[personal profile] sermocinare
Fandom: Watchmen
Title: The best part of dinner is dessert
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Daniel Dreiberg, Adrian Veidt
Pairings: Daniel/Adrian
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Mr. Moore and Mr. Gibbons, not me.
Summary: Daniel invites Adrian over for dinner. Things get hot in the kitchen.

Daniel wasn't sure how it had started. It seemed as if it had been if not fate, then at least inevitable, something that would have happened no matter what. He knew he had been watching Adrian from day one, intrigued by the other man's benign aloofness, as if Adrian were an artifact in a museum, a rare treasure not to be touched by ordinary people. And just like those museum pieces, you just wanted to reach out an touch him anyway, to see if he was really real, or just a clever fake made from painted resin, something to fool people into a false sense of awe.

After a few days, Daniel had noticed that Adrian was watching him, too. Oh, Adrian was subtle, yes, but not subtle enough. They had kept up this strange, wordless dance for a month, and then one night, the dam had broken, releasing the flood of pent-up emotion and lust that they both had been holding back. Adrian's hands on his shoulders. His lips on Adrian's, hard enough to bruise. Hands and lips and tongues, everywhere they could reach.

And that's how it had been from there on in. Lust-filled, frenzied sex after patrol, or between one bust and the next. And it wasn't as if Daniel didn't like it, dear God, no. It was amazing, every time. Daniel couldn't remember having this much sex, or for matter of fact sex this good, at any point in his life. But something was missing. Somehow, even though by now he had touched every inch of Adrian's skin several times over, the strange aura of unreality remained.

There was only one way to break the spell. He would have to get Adrian out of his glass case, out of his armor. He would have to invite him over for dinner.

So, after Daniel had put Archie down at the usual landing site at the docks, out of sight of anyone who wasn't explicitly looking for it, he turned to Adrian with a smile he hoped wasn't nervous: “Listen, Adrian, I've been thinking... I mean, we've been, like...” he waved his gloved hand in a vague motion, “anyway, how about dinner at my place on Friday? You won't believe it, but I'm actually a pretty decent cook.”

Somewhat to Daniel's surprise, Adrian smiled back, mild and friendly: “I do believe you. After all, Daniel, you're very attentive to detail, which I believe is a big part of cooking.”

Daniel was glad that his cowl probably hid most of the blush that was starting to creep up his neck. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes. It is.” Adrian's smile grew wider, genuine, as he got up from the co-pilot's seat. “I'm looking forward to it. Oh, by the way. You do know I'm a vegetarian, right?”

“Oh.” Well, there went Daniel's plan of blowing Adrian's tastebuds away with his famous roast beef. Well, he'd just have to come up with something else. “Sure, no problem. See you on Friday, then. Seven o'clock sharp.”

Adrian must have taken the “sharp” seriously. Not only did Daniel's doorbell ring at exactly seven pm on Friday, but when he opened the door, Adrian was standing in front of it wearing the most amazing, ridiculously fashionable and without a flicker of doubt tailor-made suit Daniel had ever seen. Daniel, on the other hand, was wearing a pair of brown corduroy pants, a dark gray pullover and an apron that said “Kiss the cook”. Adrian smiled, leaned in and did just that, which killed any silly notions Daniel had entertained about slamming the door in his face to quickly change into something more snappy.

“Adrian,” Daniel said after their lips moved apart again, “good to see you. Do come in.”

Adrian moved into the hallway, silent and fluid like a cat slinking in through a half-opened window. Then, he proffered a bottle at Daniel, some undoubtedly horribly expensive wine: “I brought something to go along with dinner.”

“Thank you.” Daniel said, leading Adrian down the hall and into the living room, where he had set the dinner table for two, complete with candles and wine glasses. He'd just put the bottle he had already opened away, pretending it never existed.

Adrian stood in the middle of the room, looking around with polite curiosity, and for a moment, Dan wondered what Adrian's penthouse might look like. Designer furniture and Egyptian artifacts, most likely, and not really all that lived in. It was hard to imagine Adrian living in any kind of clutter. Or just leaving personal things standing around for anyone and everyone to look at.

Adrian had moved over to the bookshelf and was perusing the spines of the books that filled every available inch of shelf space. One of them seemed to have drawn his interest, an elegant hand rising up to pull it from its resting place and stopping just a fraction of an inch before actually touching it.

“May I?”

“Sure,” Daniel replied with a nod, “feel right at home.”

Adrian pulled the book out, flipping it open, his finger hovering over the page like a hummingbird in front of a flower.

“Oh. I didn't know that there was an illustrated version.” Upon seeing Daniel's slightly quizzical expression, Adrian added: “Of The Sword in the Stone.”

“Oh, yes, that,” Daniel said, feeling slightly embarrassed that the book Adrian had pulled from the shelf was his thumbed-through boyhood favorite, instead of, oh, Owls of Europe and Northern Africa. “I've had it since I was a kid.”

Adrian was flipping through the pages, and when he looked up again, Daniel was surprised at the warmth of his smile: “Mine wasn't illustrated. I wish it had been, though. I've always had trouble imagining the characters, what they might have looked like. I'm sure this would have helped.”

“Why don't you sit down and have a closer look at it, then?” Daniel said, returning Adrian's smile. “If you'd like, of course. I'm afraid dinner isn't quite ready yet, so I'm going to have to mess around in the kitchen some more.”

Adrian nodded, then sat himself down on the couch, and even though the fancy suit kind of contrasted with the more down to earth feel of the furnishings, Daniel didn't think that he looked that out of place any longer.

Daniel had actually planned to be done with most of the cooking by the time Adrian arrived, but as usual, his best laid plans were no match for the forces of chaos. Or maybe he just shouldn't have let himself be drawn in by that news report about Silk Spectre's latest drug ring bust. Anyway, there was still a lot to be done before he could put the ratatouille in the oven. Well, at least Adrian had found something to do.

Which, apparently, didn't last him for very long. Daniel was just sautéeing the aubergine when he heard the door open, and Adrian slip into the kitchen.

“That smells good.”

“Thank you,” Daniel said, grinning and shaking his head slightly, “but I'm afraid it'll be a while longer before we can eat. So why don't you make yourself comfortable in the living room again?”

There was a short silence, and Daniel could almost feel Adrian watching him from over where he was standing, his hip leaned against one of the counters, arms crossed lightly in front of his chest.

“I think I'd rather stay here. I like watching you cook. Actually, I like watching you do things with your hands in general. For instance, the one time Archie's thrusters had an ignition problem, and you spent half an hour going over the wiring and electrics. You have very nimble hands. I like that.”

Daniel was glad that he could focus his gaze on the pot, so Adrian wouldn't see him blink in surprise and slight irritation. He was quite sure that Adrian didn't even know how unsettling he could be, sometimes. Like, oh, right now. Was that supposed to be a compliment, or an attempt at innuendo, or what?

Without looking up, Daniel said: “Well, if you're going to stay here, you might as well help me. Pass the olive oil, will you? It's right next to you on the counter.”

Adrian did as he was told, silently handing over the bottle, his fingers only barely touching Daniel's. After that, there was silence. Which didn't make things any better. In fact, it made them worse, because Daniel was now acutely aware of Adrian's presence, his gaze, the small movements of his body as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Daniel crinkled his brow, trying to focus his attention on what he was doing. And it worked, at least until he'd straightened up again after putting the casserole in the oven, at which point Adrian pushed himself away from the counter and stepped up behind Daniel, wrapping his arms around Daniel's torso and pressing his lips against his neck.

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, relaxing into the touch, his head falling back onto Adrian's shoulder. Adrian's lips were moving over his skin, slowly, drawing a line from his shoulder up to behind his ear, and Daniel shuddered as Adrian's tongue flicked out against his earlobe.

“How about we wait with that until after dinner?” Daniel said, chuckling low in his throat.

“How about not,” was Adrian's murmured reply, right before he gently closed his teeth around the shell of Daniel's ear, causing Daniel to moan.

Daniel reached back, running a hand through that immaculate golden hair and messing it up a bit, his body pressing back against Adrian's: “Don't come whining to me about being hungry if dinner's ruined afterward.”

“I won't. Promise.”

Daniel turned around, grinning: “All right, then. Blame's on you.”

Adrian smiled back, then leaned in for a kiss which Daniel returned passionately, his tongue flicking across Adrian's lips before pushing into the blond's mouth. He loved the way Adrian tasted, and the soft moans he always drew from Adrian when they were kissing.

Adrian's hands were busy running up and down Daniel's sides, pushing and pulling, trying to get underneath his pullover, and Dan had to bite back a chuckle when he felt Adrian rumble against his neck, the sound somewhere between a growl and a whine. As patient as Adrian was when they were on a stakeout, when it came to sex, the man was a terrible brat, always wanting everything right now. But then, Adrian Veidt usually got what he wanted. And this time would be no different, since Daniel had no plan on holding out on him.

Pushing Adrian off just enough to move a little, Daniel peeled off the apron and everything else he was wearing above the waist, tossing it in the direction of the small table that stood in the middle of the kitchen and not caring if he missed by a mile. While Daniel's vision had been blocked by his pullover, Adrian had gotten rid of his own suit jacket and the tie, but he didn't quite finish unbuttoning his shirt, since as soon as Daniel's skin was bared, he was back in Daniel's arms, attacking his shoulders and collar bones with kisses and short, playful nips of his teeth.

Daniel moaned, leaning his head back and for a moment just losing himself in what Adrian was doing. The touches of Adrian's lips and teeth were electrifying, making Daniel's skin tingle and sending little sparks into his bloodstream and down to his groin. Adrian's fingers where ghosting over his back, and Daniel imagined them leaving behind little trails of invisible current, drawing a map of pleasure on his skin. His own hands were drawn to Adrian's back, pulling the expensive shirt up and out of the way before he slid his hands over Adrian's skin, exploring the gentle hills and valleys of muscle and bone.

Splaying his fingers, Daniel ran his hands around the curve of Adrian's ribs and onto his chest, fingertips searching for Adrian's nipples. A flick of a finger against one of the buds drew a sharp gasp from Adrian, which turned into a whine as Daniel teased the other man's nipples to hardness. Adrian was pushing his knee between Daniel's legs, and Dan followed his prompting, spreading his thighs so that Adrian could get even closer, pressing his hips flush against Daniel's.

Adrian's hands had made their way down to his ass, and Daniel bit back a moan as Adrian's fingers dug into the fabric of his pants, squeezing non too gently. Adrian seemed to take that as a challenge, slipping his hands underneath Daniel's waistband before cupping his ass again. And this time, Adrian got his moan, wanton and ending in a breathless gasp.

Adrian's mouth was busy licking and sucking along along his neck and jaw, and Daniel shuddered as he felt Adrian's breath tickle his ear: “I want to fuck you.”

“...right here?”

“Right here.”

With that, Adrian grabbed Daniel's hips and spun him around, fingers nestling Daniel's pants open before pushing them unceremoniously downwards. Daniel gave a short hiss as his erection was freed of its confines, his hands gripping the edge of the counter while Adrian's hands roamed over his hips and ass, fingers pushing into his cleft.

The movement taking a lot more effort than it should have, Daniel reached over and snatched the bottle of olive oil that was sitting on the countertop next to them, handing it backwards to Adrian: “Use this.”

Adrian chuckled slightly, taking the bottle and carefully dripping it over the small of Daniel's back. Daniel moaned at the sensation of the cool oil running down between his cheeks, a moan that only grew louder as Adrian pushed his fingers in again, smoothing the oil all over Daniel's entrance.

Daniel gasped as first one, then two fingers breached him and started pumping, Adrian's breath and lips hot against the skin of his neck. Keening slightly, Daniel began to push back against the fingers that were so expertly working their magic inside him, twisting and stroking until they were brushing against his prostate, making him shudder with pleasure.

“God, Adrian, stop messing around and...” The rest of the sentence was cut short by a loud gasp as Adrian pushed his cock inside him, hands holding on to Daniel's hips and pulling him backwards into Adrian's thrust.

Once he was buried up to the hilt, Adrian held still for a moment, giving them both time to adjust. Daniel could hear Adrian panting against his ear, the noise almost drowned out by the rush of blood through his veins. Then, Adrian started moving, setting a quick, impatient rhythm, his hand reaching around to grasp Daniel's cock. After a few strokes, Daniel found an angle that caused Adrian's cock to brush against his prostate with every inwards stroke, and Daniel knew that between that and the hand working his cock, he wouldn't last long.

With a sharp, high whimper, the ever-tightening spiral of arousal that had been building inside him finally broke, and Daniel came, his walls clenching around Adrian's cock. Adrian groaned as Daniel spilled over his hand, his movements becoming more and more erratic until he thrust in one last time, head bent low over Daniel's back, his forehead resting on Daniel's shoulder.

For a while they were completely still, both still lost in the gentle black buzz of their receding pleasure. Daniel could feel Adrian's heavy breathing across the back of his neck, its coolness against his sweat-tinged skin making a shudder run down his spine. Finally, taking a deep breath, Daniel straightened up.

And crinkled his nose. “Shit,” he croaked, his voice still a bit broken, “I think our dinner's turned to charcoal.”

“Doesn't matter,” Adrian muttered, nuzzling and kissing Daniel's shoulder. “I know an excellent Japanese restaurant. They also make deliveries.”

Daniel pulled Adrian's arms around his waist, leaning back against him, and heaved a small sigh: “But I wanted to cook something for you.”

Adrian tightened his arms around Daniel, hugging him, and leaned his head against Daniel's, smiling: “Well, then how about pancakes? Tomorrow morning?”

“Hmmm. Sounds great.”
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