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Fandom: Watchmen
Title: Breakfast at Dreiberg's
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Daniel Dreiberg, Adrian Veidt
Pairings: Daniel/Adrian
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Mr. Moore and Mr. Gibbons, not me.
Summary: Daniel gets a sexy wake-up call. Adrian gets pancakes.
Author's note: Sequel to The best part of dinner is dessert. Pretty much pointless porn and fluff.


“Good morning, Daniel.” Adrian's voice was low, husky, but there was no mistaking the note of wicked amusement in it.

Daniel blinked, chasing away the last ghosts of his dreams that were blurring his vision. He knew that he was supposed to say something, but he'd be damned if he knew what. Maybe it was because he has just woken up. And then, maybe it was because he had just woken up to the amazing feeling of Adrian's hot, wet mouth on his cock.

“Not a morning person, are we?”

Daniel groaned and let his head fall back onto the pillow. With the fog of sleep slowly lifting, his arousal was coming to the forefront of his thinking, and for a moment he wondered just how long Adrian had already been at it before he'd woken up. Long enough for him to be completely hard, and very much in need of more.

It took Daniel another few seconds before he managed to groan out Adrian's name, the word ending on a whimper as Adrian nuzzled his groin. Taking a deep breath, Daniel reached down to run his hand through Adrian's hair, gently ruffling the golden strands between his fingers.

Adrian gave a soft purr, his hand caressing Daniel's hip. It felt good, and Daniel closed his eyes again. Really, by the gray light in the room, it was way too early for everything except sleeping and this. Not quite ready to drag himself into full wakefulness, he gave a soft hum of pleasure as Adrian's mouth closed over the tip of his cock again. Simply lying back and letting Adrian do whatever he wanted to seemed like a very, very good idea right now.

Daniel had to admit, Adrian was good at this. Like he was at almost anything he did. Adrian's rhythm was relaxed, but never too slow, occasionally punctuated by teasing little touches and swirls of his tongue. It didn't take long until the desire for rest was overtaken by the need for release, and Daniel's hips were bucking almost as if by their own volition, his hand in Adrian's hair pressing down a bit, urging Adrian on.

Never breaking his rhythm, Adrian took him in deeper, and Daniel gasped in surprise and pleasure as he felt the tip of his cock slide down Adrian's throat. Daniel imagined he could feel the muscles of Adrian's throat constrict around him, and he didn't know if it was the feeling or the idea that sent him over the edge, coming down Adrian's throat with a drawn-out, shaky moan.

Opening his eyes, he watched Adrian withdraw slightly. It was strangely erotic, the way Adrian's adam's apple moved as he swallowed, and Daniel let his hand slide out of Adrian's hair and over his cheekbone, his fingers coming to rest on Adrian's cheek. As soon as Adrian had drawn back fully, Daniel pulled him up into a kiss, letting it linger for a while.

“So, since you woke me up so nicely,” Daniel finally said, drawing back to give Adrian a content smile, “what can I do for you?”

Adrian cocked his head a bit and regarded him expectantly, a gesture that reminded Daniel a little of the way his mother's cat had always looked whenever someone was rummaging in the cupboard that held the food tins. Finally, he said: “Pancakes.”

Daniel blinked, uncomprehending.

“You said you would make me some once you had woken up. Yesterday, before you fell asleep.”

Daniel couldn't suppress the bubble of laughter that rose in his chest, and he chuckled, shaking his head: “So you woke me up like that just to get some pancakes?”

Really, when he had asked, Daniel had been thinking more along the lines of giving back in pleasure, not in food. But, as a quick glance downwards confirmed, it seemed like Adrian really wasn't in need of anything in that department.

Adrian grinned playfully: “Actually, I woke you up like that because I had been awake for half an hour already, and was getting bored. And you looked so inviting.”

“Remind me to let you get bored more often, then,” Daniel quipped, still laughing under his breath, before running a hand through Adrian's messed-up hair. The more he got to know him, the more Daniel realized how honest to god strange Adrian sometimes was. But really, it was quite endearing. “Let's get you your pancakes, then.”

About a quarter of an hour later, both men were standing in the kitchen of the brownstone again, Daniel wrapped in a bathrobe, Adrian wearing his suit pants and nothing else, not even socks. It was a sight Daniel thought he could get used to.

“You know, I love the smell of pancakes,” Daniel said, smiling wistfully while he poked at the still not quite ready one in the pan. “It always reminds me of Sunday mornings at home. We'd all sit down for breakfast together, and I'd eat so may pancakes that it would take until dinner before I got hungry again.”

Behind him, Adrian chuckled quietly. “That must have been very nice.”

Dan turned his head: “What about you, Adrian?”

“My parents were very busy people.”

Dan waited for a second, but as it became clear that Adrian wouldn't be adding anything to that one matter-of-fact sentence, he turned back to the pan, lifting it off the stove and carefully sliding the pancake onto a plate. That kind of explained a lot. Probably more than Adrian had intended it to. Handing the plate over to Adrian, Daniel asked: “Want some sugar? Maple syrup? Chocolate sprinkles?”

“I already had some syrup, thank you,” Adrian said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a decidedly naughty smile. He effortlessly avoided Dan's half-hearted spatula slap, chuckling and grinning impishly: “But I'll take some of those chocolate sprinkles.”

“Brat.” Daniel retorted, shaking his head in fond amusement. “They're in the right hand cupboard, second shelf. Help yourself.”

Adrian went over to the shelf and retrieved the box, shaking it experimentally as if to see if there really were any chocolate sprinkles left inside. Sitting down, he then began to systematically and quite meticulously cover every bit of his pancake with a loose layer of multi-colored sprinkles. Then, he waited for a few moments, until the chocolate had gone soft, and began smoothing it out with his fork.

Daniel watched the strange ritual, only occasionally checking that his own pancake wasn't getting too dark. By now, Adrian's pancake was covered in an interesting pattern of colored splotches and trails, running over and into each other.

“You know,” Daniel ventured, flipping his pancake over, “your pancake kind of looks like a Jackson Pollock.”

Adrian looked from his pancake to Daniel and back to his breakfast, then laughed: “Maybe I should bequeath it to the Met?”

“I think you should eat it. Before it gets cold.” Sitting down with his own plate, Daniel winked at Adrian: “After all, I wanted to show off my cooking, and that won't work if you never eat anything I made.”

“Point taken,” Adrian said, picking up his fork.

They ate in silence, until Adrian finally put his fork down, a satisfied smile on his face: “Well, Daniel, if you wanted to impress me, congratulations, you did. You really are a good cook.”

Daniel shrugged, waving the compliment off: “Oh, it's just pancakes.”

Leaning forward on the table, Adrian rested his chin in his hand, his eyes alight with a warm glow: “I never knew what I missed out on...”

“You can have as much as you want. Also, you've got chocolate on your lip.” Reaching over, Daniel smoothed his thumb over Adrian's lower lip, wiping away a small trace of chocolate.

Smiling enticingly, Adrian dipped his head, his tongue darting out to lick at the pad of Daniel's thumb.

“Can I have as much as I want of this, too?” Adrian said, his voice a low purr.

“Sure,” Daniel replied, a slow smile spreading on his face. “I take it you're not hungry and more, then?”

“At least not for pancakes, no...”
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