Chapter Thirteen

Daniel doesn’t recognize the guy in the workshop at Angel Automotive. He’s wearing coveralls, which is probably on the whole a better call than Tony’s jeans-and-tank-top work uniform, and he must be Tony’s dad’s age. He doesn’t have a mustache, or much hair left on his head at all, come to that.

“Excuse me?” Daniel calls.

“If you’re here for a fix, it’s gonna have to wait,” the guy who might be Tony’s dad answers. “We’re full up today!”

“I was just looking for Tony.”

“The d’Angelos are all out sick this week,” says the guy who must be the only non-d’Angelo employee at the shop. “Nobody here but us chickens.”

Fuck. “Thanks. Sorry to bother you.”

There’s a wave of a hand over the top of the car the guy is working on, and then he’s back at it.

Daniel gets into his car again. So much for his plan.

Not that it was particularly well thought out. All he was going to do was interrupt Tony at work and apologize.

He could go to Tony’s house, now he’s been there, once he’s pretty sure he remembers the way. But that means facing Tony’s parents and Gianna, none of whom know about them. Well. Gianna might. He and Tony never really got around to talking about that. Much like everything else. At least about that, Daniel doesn’t feel guilty; it had seemed like a subject Tony needed time to find the words on.

Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Daniel catches sight of Tony’s backpack in the rearview mirror. Tony left it in the car on Sunday, and Daniel forgot it was still there until he and Colette drove to Lobell on Monday.

It’s as good an excuse as any.

He’s barely aware of the drive, and he feels like someone else’s feet carry him to the door, someone else’s finger presses the doorbell. It’s definitely someone else who smiles charmingly at Tony’s mom and says, “Hi, Mrs. d’Angelo, I was wondering if Tony was home? I was in the area, and he forgot his things in my car on Sunday.”

She looks at him for a moment. “You must be Daniel.”

“Yeah.” Is it a good sign that she knows his name?

“Hm.” She beckons him inside. “You know, I’ve met all of Tony’s other friends. It’s been a while since someone new came around.”

Guilt chokes Daniel for a moment. It’s such a parent thing to say, even about her full-grown son. Of course Tony’s parents noticed when Daniel started hanging around. Tony lives with them. Curiosity is natural. Tony spending the night at a motel must have been noticeable, let alone going down to the city for a night.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Daniel tries not to sound like the words are strangling him.

She has Tony’s dimples when she smiles. “You too. I’m so glad Tony has someone to talk to. He’s been going through a lot.”

“Uh.” It’s true, and it doesn’t help with his guilt problem, but he didn’t expect her to lay it out there like that. Especially when she has another child who has inarguably gone through more.

“He wouldn’t want me to say that, I’m sure.” She waves a hand dismissively. “He likes to be the one taking care of everyone else, and we love him for it, but I worry, you know? No one can carry that much all the time.”

“That’s true.” If Daniel sounds a little choked up, well, he hopes she counts it in his favor.”

“He’s upstairs, first door on the left.” She points him in the right direction. “Sorry if I overwhelmed you just now. We’ve all had a tough few days.”

“You haven’t overwhelmed me,” Daniel lies.

She pats his shoulder.

Daniel takes off his shoes because it seems like that sort of house, and on socked feet, clutching Tony’s beat-up Eastpak, he climbs the stairs.

Tony’s room is over the garage, Daniel realizes distantly. That’s why the light was on over the garage. That’s why there’s a fire escape on the top of the garage. It’s like his own little apartment in his parents’ house.

He knocks on the door.

“Told you I’m not hungry, Ma,” Tony calls.

Daniel opens the door.

Tony scrambles to his feet. He was lying on the floor, a book in his hand. He’s wearing sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt, no socks. His hair isn’t in its usual ponytail. Instead, it falls around his face, framing the black-rimmed glasses on his nose perfectly.

“I didn’t know you had glasses.”

Tony opens his mouth to say something, and Daniel can’t let him because he needs to get it out first.

“Sorry. That wasn’t what I was going to say. I, um…I have to tell you three things, and then I’ll leave, okay?”

Tony nods.

Daniel sets Tony’s backpack down and closes the door. “You forgot your stuff. That…wasn’t one of the things. I’m really bad at this.”

“I’m listening, aren’t I?” Tony’s expression is inscrutable. He doesn’t look angry. He doesn’t look amused. He doesn’t look anything at all, and it’s killing Daniel.

“Okay, first, I met Mario’s mom yesterday. And I thought—well, if Gianna ever wants to know her, or for Mario’s family to know about the baby, she should have the option. So I’m going to give you her contact details.” Daniel pulls out his phone and unlocks his screen with shaky fingers. “I’m gonna send you her number. There. That’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“No. The second thing is that you’re right, and I’m sorry. I never talked to you about Mario or about Gianna, and I should never have thought there was a possibility she had something to do with his death or…or kept it from you that I was thinking about it. That was shitty of me. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you were less than because of your job. I don’t—I don’t believe that, you know? I could never do what you do for a living. I should have been…I don’t know…”

Tony opens his mouth to speak, and for a moment, Daniel thinks that’s it; it’s over; he’s sending Daniel away. “You should have been what, Daniel?” he asks instead.

Daniel closes his eyes. “I should have been braver.”

Tony steps closer. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, and the line of his beard is less precise than usual. “What’s the third thing?”

Daniel inhales deeply. If this is the last time he sees Tony, he wants to remember it, all of it, the ugly bedspread, the cold of the floorboards seeping up into Daniel’s feet, Tony’s disheveled clothing, the black frames of his glasses, the mess of his hair, that his second toe is longer than his big toe.

“I really, really like you.” He lets himself look right at Tony as he talks, at his warm eyes and the crow’s feet that surround them. “And I should have said so from the start, so you wouldn’t have felt like this was just—like I was only messing around with you. If I had told you how I felt… But I couldn’t because I’m not built like that. I get all in my head and convince myself to do anything but talk to people. For some insane reason, my brain convinced me it was easier to keep seeing you casually and pretend that if something turned up that made Gianna look guilty or…or made you look guilty, I could cut and run. And if I had only been brave enough to tell you I want to be with you because I like you and that I’ve been seven kinds of fucked up ever since Mario died, but you’re still the best thing that’s happened to me in three years, I wouldn’t have hurt you like this.”

The words settle heavily in the room. They’re too intense for this place, for the Metallica poster tacked to the wall across from Daniel and the rumpled lavender bedspread with ruffled edging.

“You know,” Tony says eventually, “not everything is your fault.”

Daniel blinks.

“I mean, yeah, gaining access to a possible murderess by dating her brother is definitely the worst plan in the history of crime. But you never made me feel like you didn’t respect me. That was all my inferiority complex. You’re not the only one who’s all kinds of fucked up about things right now.”

Unsteadily, Daniel manages a laugh. “It was a really bad plan.”

“Mm. I would actually call it the absence of a plan.”

“Wait until you hear about my Sunday night. I’m full of bad ideas, apparently.”

“I can’t wait. There’s just one thing I want to do first.”

“What’s that?”

Tony leans in, quick as a dart, and brushes their lips together. The shock of contact zings through Daniel all at once, and then it’s gone as soon as it came, and he’s blinking his eyes open to stare at Tony.

“Good apology.” Tony is once again a barely respectable distance from Daniel, and Daniel wishes he weren’t. “Thanks for my backpack.”

Daniel’s not sure what noise he makes at the back of his throat when he crosses the distance between them, but he’s pretty sure it’s embarrassing. He wraps his arms around Tony’s middle, buries his nose in Tony’s neck, and holds him tight.

Tony laughs as he wraps his arms around Daniel in turn. The sound warms Daniel right through to the core. “You really do like me.” Tony sounds as if it’s a shock.

“Yeah.” Daniel’s going to have to repeat it a few more times until Tony believes it.

“Wanna know something?”

“Yeah.”

“I really like you too.”

“Glad we cleared that up.” Daniel clears his throat and releases Tony.

There’s an awkward moment where they both look away, and then at each other, and then away again, and then Tony says, “For fuck’s sake,” and kisses Daniel properly.

Daniel’s self-aware enough at this point to know the ball of tension he carries around with him won’t melt away, but he feels like he might melt away at the touch of Tony’s lips. The sure feel of Tony’s hand tangled with his, the dip at the small of Tony’s back where Daniel’s other hand migrates, they’re all that keeps Daniel steady.

He wants to touch Tony everywhere, to make sure he’s real and solid and means everything they said. He lets his fingers slide under the fabric of Tony’s shirt, just a hint, just to tease, and Tony makes a soft noise against his lips and presses closer.

“Boys?” Tony’s mom calls from outside the door.

They spring apart instantly.

“I’m about to head out. Do you need anything to eat or drink?”

Tony closes his eyes. Daniel’s not sure whether the flush rising up his neck is from the kissing or the interruption. “I know where the kitchen is, Ma. I’m twenty-seven,” he calls back.

“Just checking.” It must be a mom thing to be that cheerfully impervious to your children’s annoyance. “See you later!”

“So.” Tony rubs his hand across his forehead as her footsteps retreat down the stairs. “We’re going to your place.”

“We don’t have to—” Daniel starts, but Tony arrests him with a glare.

“We definitely have to. I swear it’s not usually like this, but with Gigi and the police, it’s been pretty intense around here. C’mon. Take me away from all this.” He gestures dramatically around the room.

Daniel snorts. It’s not very attractive, but Tony looks delighted.

In short order, he grabs a pair of jeans out of his dresser, shucks his sweats, and pulls them on before pulling on socks and putting his hair up.

He leaves the glasses on.

Daniel’s glad; he liked how soft Tony looked before. “You don’t have to get dressed up for me.”

Tony shoots him a look, half-pleasure, half-embarrassment. “Noted.”

He knocks on the door across the hall on their way out. “Hey, Gi. I’m going out for a while, that okay?”

“I’m fine, Tony. You don’t need to keep checking,” Gianna’s voice comes through the door.

“Okay,” he says placidly. “You know how to reach me.”

As they get into the car, Daniel tells him, “You’re a good brother.”

Tony shrugs.

“No, seriously. I’m gonna start taking tips from you.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

Daniel nods. “Meredith. She’s out in California, I don’t see her as much as I should.”

“Ah.” Tony slides his seatbelt on with a click. “So tell me about your Sunday night.”

In broad strokes, Daniel tells the story of their ill-advised trip to investigate Andrew’s room, adding in the context of Andrew’s obsession with sin-eaters and how he’s been incredibly insistent first with Mario and then with Colette.

“Okay,” Tony summarizes when he’s done. “That is super creepy, and also, you are an idiot.”

“Hey!”

“No, no—sneaking into a cordoned-off police area at night with your friends? That’s really risky! And what did you gain besides scaring the fuck out of yourself? You don’t know any more than the police, now, do you?”

“I know as much as them,” Daniel points out. “It’s not like they’re keeping us updated.”

“Yeah.” Tony draws the word out until it becomes eminently clear he still thinks Daniel’s being an idiot. “Because it’s a murder. They’re not keeping anyone updated.”

“I’m not saying I’ve been making good decisions. I’m saying my faith in the police as an institution is not exactly huge.”

“Fair. But you do know that if me or Gianna had actually had anything to do with it, you would have been putting yourself in crazy amounts of danger? And that snooping around crime scenes is a fun way to run into criminals?”

Daniel does know, and he’s not proud of himself, so he changes the subject. “What happened with Gianna anyway?”

Tony sighs. “She has an alibi, you know. Actually, I’m her alibi. We were home all night, playing Monopoly.”

Daniel is an idiot. He should have asked. Because then, he would have known that, and he’d never have thought, even for a minute—

Anyway.

“All night?” he asks.

“Look, Monopoly is a vicious game.” Tony makes a point Daniel has to concede. “Anyway. She had to answer a bunch of questions about her and Mario.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow.

“Like…when and where she was seeing him. How serious it was.”

Those are questions Daniel has wondered about as well, but he’s pretty sure now isn’t the time. Instead, he asks, “And…your parents?”

It takes a while for Tony to answer. The Kingston-Rhinecliff Bridge blurs past around them, the wide stormy waters of the Hudson underneath announcing the advent of winter loud and clear.

“I don’t know.” Tony looks out the passenger side window, mulling it over. “I can’t tell if they’re relieved she wasn’t sleeping with so many people she didn’t know who got her pregnant, or disappointed it was a professor, or just…scared.”

“That sounds…rough.”

“Yeah.”

“Have they said anything?”

Tony laughs. “Nah, all Ma does is try to feed us. It’s kind of ridiculous.”

“It’s probably hard.” Daniel thinks of his own mom and her ridiculous Thanksgiving feasts. “When your kids are grown up, and they don’t want you to protect them anymore.”

He chances a look over at Tony and finds him looking back with the softest smile Daniel’s ever seen him wear playing around his lips.

“Yeah,” Tony agrees. “It probably is.”

It’s strange to walk up to his apartment with Tony by his side as though it’s something they do regularly, as though they share space like this all the time.

Daniel wants that with a fierceness that scares him.

They toe off their shoes by the door and hang up their jackets. To stave off the urge to say something really stupid, like telling Tony how much he likes it when their shoes intermingle on the floor, Daniel asks, “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Daniel.” Tony’s voice is fond and firm.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want something to drink.”

He wraps his hand around Daniel’s neck, his thumb caressing the hinge of Daniel’s jaw gently, and then he kisses Daniel like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted out of life.

“What do you want?” Daniel whispers when they separate by a bare inch.

Tony laughs unsteadily. “A lot of things.”

Daniel kisses him again, deep and slick and promising in a way Daniel doesn’t remember kissing being before this, before Tony. Maybe he’s rewriting his own history. Maybe he’s romanticizing this beyond repair, but he feels as though each touch is new to him. “Tell me,” he demands.

With his free hand, Tony toys with the collar of Daniel’s shirt, sliding the top button through its hole. “I kinda want…you to take the lead, If that’s okay.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

The hand at Daniel’s neck slides up to tangle in his hair as Tony pulls him close again. “Don’t…read too much into this.” Tony rests their foreheads together. “But in New York, that night…I felt like…I don’t know. I felt like you were taking care of me. And I liked it. A lot.”

Daniel tilts his head enough to brush a kiss on Tony’s cheek and then more down his neck.

“Mm, that’s nice,” Tony says breathlessly. “If I’m being honest here, it kinda scared me. How much I liked it. How it made me feel. The next morning…”

“It’s easier to be angry than vulnerable.”

Tony’s eyes are almost glistening when Daniel looks at him. “Yeah. I want to be…I want to be vulnerable with you though.”

“Thank you.” Daniel kisses Tony so thoroughly he’s not sure he has any oxygen left in his brain.

He whispers it again when he returns to Tony’s neck, to his collarbone, to his ridiculous shoulders in his stupid sleeveless shirt. And, again, when he drags Tony to his bedroom and gets him settled in the sheets with his shirt off and his jeans undone.

“Baby,” Tony chides and then sighs in pleasure when Daniel gets his mouth on a nipple. “Don’t…oh, Jesus fuck, don’t thank me.”

Daniel wants to explain he’s not thanking Tony for the chance to do this. He’s thanking Tony for giving him another chance, for trusting him. He also doesn’t want to ruin the moment. What he ends up going with is, “I’m just glad you’re here with me.”

“So’m I.”

The way Tony smiles up at Daniel makes his whole face glow with happiness.

Daniel’s heart pounds, and he lets it. Doesn’t pretend this is anything other than what it is: pleasure and happiness and desire at being close to someone he cares for.

He pulls off Tony’s pants and unbuttons his own shirt before pressing close to Tony, bare chest to bare chest. They spend long, muzzy minutes like that, kissing gently and then less gently. Tony’s legs shift, and he turns to slide one between Daniel’s till they’re aligned from knee to shoulder. With each new kiss, each new motion, Daniel learns something: the huff of Tony’s exhale becomes more labored when Daniel plays with his nipples; he squirms when Daniel lets his teeth trace across his clavicle; and he sighs in pleasure when Daniel rolls his hips against Tony’s.

Daniel will be the first to admit it was exciting, intoxicating, to ask Tony to make him stop thinking, to give himself over to whatever Tony wanted to do to him. He finds that it’s different to stay so fully present and attuned to Tony’s reactions but no less fulfilling. He feels as though he’s been given something precious. His skin is prickly and oversensitive, each new touch a hint of stimulation. He doesn’t even want Tony to touch him, or it would distract him too much.

He takes his time with it, caressing Tony’s sides, palming the curve of his ass, stroking gently over the swell of his hard cock until Tony’s gasping and pleading with him to get on with it. Even then, he’s slow, spreading lube gently around Tony’s hole, slipping a condom over his own mostly ignored cock, waiting until Tony’s shivering under his fingers and pushing up toward him as if that will get Daniel to hurry up.

“Are you ready?”

Tony nods. The movement makes some of his hair come loose from its ponytail, and Daniel brushes it out of his face, dips down for a kiss as he settles between Tony’s spread legs, and slowly, slowly sinks inside him.

“Daniel,” Tony gasps.

His head is thrown back as he pants for breath, relaxing slowly around Daniel. His chest is flushed blotchy red, and he’s gripping the sheets for dear life. Daniel takes a deep breath and keeps his hips still, giving Tony all the time he needs. Truth be told, he needs the time himself. Tony is tight and warm around him, and it would be easy to keep going, to chase down his own pleasure, but he wants to make it last. He leans down toward his favorite stretch of shoulder-to-collarbone and peppers Tony’s skin with kisses and bites.

Tony’s arms come up around him, vise-tight and holding him close, and Daniel thinks of kissing Tony by the Hudson and of how much he wants to remember every moment with this man.

“You can move,” Tony says hoarsely.

“You sure?”

Unsteadily, Tony laughs. “I might get really mad if you don’t.”

It’s strange how little Daniel cares about his own pleasure, to start with. It feels good, and the sight of Tony under him is more than enough to get him going. But above all, what he wants is for this to be good for Tony, for him to feel even one ounce of the tenderness destroying Daniel’s ability to think. The pulse of pleasure under his own skin is a hindrance to his goal.

He keeps it slow, a gentle rocking of his hips, letting Tony fall into it. It’s just as much for Tony’s benefit as it is to keep his own urgency at bay, to tease himself for that little bit longer.

Between their bellies, the stiff line of Tony’s cock brushes up against Daniel with every movement.

“Feel good?” he asks.

“Uh-huh.”

Daniel pauses to reposition, to grasp Tony’s thighs and hoist them over his shoulders. “You should know I think you’re gorgeous like this.” He’s proud he manages to sound conversational, as if this isn’t simultaneously one of the hottest and most important things that’s ever happened to him. “I mean, always, but now especially.”

Tony smiles, opens his mouth to respond, and then all he can do is groan as Daniel moves. It’s deeper, a better angle, and the noises Tony makes go straight to Daniel’s cock. He can’t keep it up forever. Tony’s legs are heavy and holding their weight makes it harder to move, but it’s so worth it to see Tony struggle to form words. Daniel’s breathing hard, and he can feel his pulse in his balls; he’s starting to doubt his ability to survive this.

On the tail end of a thrust, Tony clenches down around Daniel’s cock, and all the urgency Daniel was trying to deny himself comes surging to the fore. He closes his eyes and grits his teeth, and keeps moving through it as slowly as he can, holding himself back by the skin of his teeth until Tony begs, “Daniel, can you…faster? Please.”

Abruptly, Daniel pulls out, and Tony makes a gut-wrenching sound of loss. “Turn over. C’mon—on your knees?”

It takes Tony a moment, an ungainly scramble, and Daniel uses the reprieve to slather more lube onto the condom and take deep, steadying breaths, trying to pull himself from the brink. Then, he kneels between Tony’s spread thighs and slides into molten heat, and it’s like reality snaps into him all at once, all his efforts at restraint giving way to the urgent thrum of his pulse.

“Yeah,” Tony pants, “like that.”

Daniel wraps an arm around his middle to keep him steady, pressed against Daniel’s chest. With the other, he reaches down to grasp Tony’s cock firmly even as he starts up a hard and fast rhythm.

“Fuck,” Tony grits out.

“Yeah,” Daniel agrees, breathless. Sparks dance behind his eyes. Each new movement makes him want to cry out with how good it feels, how close he is. It’s too much, so much he can’t hold out.

The wait, the length spent teasing Tony and working him up, the full weight of emotion Daniel’s been carrying around with him all day—it’s all he can do to wait until Tony groans and spills across his fingers, contracting around him and slumping into his hold.

“Tony,” he manages when he’s sure he’s seen Tony through it, his own desperation in his voice.

“C’mon.” Tony pushes back against him, and Daniel lets himself go.

It’s nowhere near as gentle as he was trying to be. He’s not sure how he could stand it, now he can’t anymore. He’s not sure how he could ever stop himself from feeling this knife-sharp pleasure as he thrusts up into Tony’s body and comes and comes and comes.

Tony makes a sharp sound, something like shock, and another wet pulse of come shoots across Daniel’s hand.

He has to bite into the side of Tony’s neck to stop himself from screaming.

He feels like he’s been turned inside out.

His fingers shake, after, as he gets rid of the condom. His knees are unsteady.

He collapses next to Tony on the bed and burrows into his side.

“Holy fuck,” Tony says.

“Yeah,” Daniel agrees.

Tony shifts to kiss Daniel and then to wrap his arms around him.

“You’re staying, right?” Daniel asks.

“Try to get rid of me now.” Tony laughs.