"Daaannnyyyyy…." It comes out as a whine, which is no surprise at this point. Patton has long since lost track of time, tinged pink from head to toe, as Danny teases him with his hands, his mouth, the slick side of skin… He shudders from head to toe, the love of his life swimming in his vision above him.
“Yes, Patton?” His voice is way too sultry, too alluring. Patton might be the only one who remembers their actual meeting, a siren song in the early afternoon, dappled sunlight and a quiet pond. It’s more of a feeling than a memory, but sometimes, when Danny’s voice sounds like this, it makes him tingle. Now that he has a body, every inch of him is sparking with electricity.
“Please, ohh—“ Every train of thought is lost as Danny’s hand is replaced by his mouth, tunnel vision as his hips helplessly buck. There’s a rumble of something, maybe a laugh, but it makes Patton’s brain go all fuzzy. He has no clue what he was about to beg for, but he feels like he’s physically glowing.
How long has Danny been teasing him to that edge? Never going over, no release, and it's the most exquisite feeling in the universe.
To think, this all started just because Patton had been incapable of letting himself say… oh, wow, it’s still hard to say in his head… when he begged Danny to make him cum, he couldn’t get the dirty word out. And so, Danny has pushed him to the brink of desperation, almost to the point where it’s painful. Desperation has overtaken all of his senses, and he’s so enveloped in Danny. Never had he thought sex could be so consuming. Especially not without penetration…
Danny pulls back with a pop, and Patton whimpers, bucking into the negative space left behind. He's more than half delirious at this point, tears streaming down his cheeks, and it's the best and most overwhelming feeling. Every touch borders on too much, makes him gasp and writhe and shiver and whine.
“Say pretty please,” Danny teases, and a wave of dizziness overcomes him. Don’t ask him why that, of all things, makes him so turned on that he can’t see straight.
“Dan-Danny, my love, please, pretty please, please let me c-cum.” Danny hums, like he's debating if that's good enough, wrist twisting in a way that makes Patton keen. His shaky hand reaches over, wraps around Danny's forearm. He doesn't have any grip strength, but somehow, feeling the way Danny's muscles move under his skin as he strokes him, it tilts the world and sends him careening closer to the edge of that cliff. They are in this together. Pretty tears streaming down his freckled face, he blinks and tries to focus on Danny's face again. He wants to see him, wants that to be the last thing he sees. Focus. Danny's face is intense, loving, and a real life glow is creeping up his neck to his face. Like Patton's transferring the fog-powered light from his own body to Danny. "P-pretty pretty please, with a cherry on top? M-make me cum?"
The Moon smiles back at him, alight and dark-eyed. He pulls Patton up, just enough to meet him halfway for a deep kiss, one that Patton barely had the sense of mind to reciprocate. His hand speeds up, and when his thumb runs under the head, Patton comes apart.
His moan is barely muffled by Danny's lips, and his brain goes blank with white-hot pleasure. He cums so hard that it hurts, which only makes it more exquisite.
The only thought that even appears is that only Danny could do this to him. Danny, Danny, the only thing that matters.
As he blinks back into existence, slow and sleepy-eyed, he's clutching onto Danny, and he's lowered them back onto the bed, covering his body with his own. The weight is so achingly familiar and welcome, and he wonders if the Sun above feels just as lucky as he does for its Moon's existence.
Tap tap tap tap. Fingers flying across the keyboard, because if they’re not in rapid motion, they might stop altogether. There’s too much, an endless amount of schoolwork to catch up. How long had Thomas been letting this all slip through the cracks? He really needs to talk to Virgil about this, whatever chokehold he’s had on the mind lately has got to come to an end. But hey, that’s what the whole purpose of him is, isn’t it?
Just like Logan’s purpose is to step in and fix everything. Hours and hours pouring over books and notes and typed words. And, well, since he's here, physically, for once, why not get some video planning done? Update and color code the Google calendar? Set up a schedule for all content this year and schoolwork?
It's late. If he cared to notice, rain is drizzling outside. He's too absorbed in his work, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. Papers and textbooks and notebooks are all laid out on the table in front of him, and he's rather dominated the Theta study space. If the words are starting to get blurry, unfocused, then that just means he needs to focus harder
Logan doesn't even realize someone's in the room with him until their hand is lowering the lid of his laptop. He blinks for a few long moments, then finally looks up. Way up.
"Hey, Lo," Danny is towering over him, though he's the opposite of imposing. A distraction, maybe. But there's a hook of a smile on his lips, and it's enough to keep Logan from immediately going back to work.
Maybe a hint of worry, in his eyes. It's hard to tell in the practically unlit room. The lowered computer screen and moonlight through the window are the only things Logan has to go by, and his eyes are already so strained. "Leigh. Hello. Why are you here?" Danny looks… almost bashful, for a second, but maybe it's a trick of the lack of light.
"Well… I noticed you here in the afternoon… and when I walked by again now, you were still here." Logan blinks blankly up at him. Why is that a problem? Danny's expression turns apologetic. "It's 4 in the morning, Lo," he says gently, the worry more obvious in the tightening of his eyes.
"And? We're behind on everything. I'm almost caught up." Logan begins to lift up the laptop screen, but the other man's hand touches his. It zings through his entire being, a bullet in a metal chamber just bouncing off the walls. He's a living piece of Thomas' mind and soul, and even though he's no Patton, Danny's touch is still a live wire connection. He takes a surprised breath, eyes growing wide, and his ex-husband pulls back his hand.
"Sorry. I didn't think… I won't touch you." Why does his voice always have to sound so soft, so soothing? Soft in a melodic way, not a quiet one. Logan's not much for music, but he thinks even a symphony couldn't quite match listening to Danny speak. "Just… it's definitely bedtime. School stuff can wait until tomorrow."
"I don't mind you touching me," Logan half-mumbles out, almost embarrassed to say it. Now that he's not just going going going, he can feel the heaviness in his shoulders, the droop of his eyes, the fray of his mind. "It needs to get done. It's already been put off all semester."
"It'll still be there tomorrow."
"That's the problem," Logan deadpans, not sure what point he's trying to make. "Look, Thomas has been too anxious and emotional lately, so I haven't been able to get any work done. I'm not a real person, I'm just a fraction of his brain, and I'm doing what I was made to do. Like a computer." It's all logically laid out, precise and simple. He is not human, so he doesn't need to abide by human needs. It would all sound a whole lot more effective if his words didn't get slurred by the end. Or maybe they were the whole time. He can still string sentences together, however, and that's all he needs to do homework.
"And I'm sure you'll get even more done if you get some sleep. Because right now, you look like you're about two seconds from passing out, which means that your new human body follows all the normal human needs." Logan wasn't prepared for a logical argument back, one that's almost impossible to refute. If he were tucked away in Thomas' brain again, he'd concede to his point. Somehow, now, he feels rawer. Maybe more human. He wants to argue, and throw a fit.
Is that what being exhausted feels like?
Danny just watches him as he processes, frozen in place as he thinks. "...all human needs?" is the response he finally lands on, which causes his cheeks to heat up. Why? He suspects, now that he's in human form, he has aphantasia - but a flash of borrowed memory rises all the same. No picture, just… touch. Sound. Feeling.
Danny stares at him for a moment, mouth falling open. Logan was definitely right earlier, when he called him a distraction. "Do you mean…" He clears his throat, a hint of a grin rising to his lips. "Lo, I didn't know you'd want that sort of thing. Feels like the opposite of… logical."
Logan shuts the laptop the rest of the way, starting to gather things up. Needing something to do with his hands. "Well, if I have a human body, and I've been having… unidentifiable urges, well. It's a logical conclusion to me." Everything gets put carefully into his bag. "And, well, your stage name isn't Sexbang for nothing…"
He's rewarded, oddly, by a quiet laugh. It's enough to grab his attention again, eyes gluing back to Danny. "C'mon. Let's get you to bed. Maybe that's something we'll talk about later… when you're not leaning like you're going to fall out of your chair."
"From what I understand, it's a very horizontal act," Logan answers, even as his blush worsens. Factual statements as coping.
Danny laughs again, more full. Such a happy sound. "Not the way I do it, man," he answers, then walks around the table. Logan's breath catches, hope rising in his body at the closing distance. Danny offers him his hand, and Logan pauses, goes to put a few more items in his bag. "You can leave it. Nobody will touch it." His eyes flick back up to him, uncertain. Why does it feel like his entire perspective on living has been flipped on its head? Danny just smiles, slow and sly and inviting, leaning over him a little more. Distance closing. "Come to bed with me, Logan." Soft words, hushed, for his ears only. So, he takes his hand, shuddering at the overwhelming feeling in his tired body.
Thomas has been gentle in reintroducing himself into Danny’s life. Texts and quiet conversations at parties, and his heart, once dulled by time and distance, slowly starts to pound back to life. With each flutter of his heart that is free of ache, he feels renewed. He’s not sure he would have appreciated it all the same if he hadn’t spent so much of his time in semi-isolation on working through it all in his mind. He had to find a way to be happy in his own company again, be comfortable with his choices and mistakes…. forgive himself. Learn how to stop being so afraid of losing that he won’t even play. Actually, the Sanders Sides series has quite literally changed his life, teaching him how to show love to even the hardest parts of himself. He hated the idea of his own deteriorated self-worth leading to too much bitterness. Festering wounds.
Thomas had to know that the reason he wanted his Moon back wasn’t just because he’s afraid to be alone.
Now, in this phase of careful but fond smiles, hesitation to touch but reluctance to let go, quiet reconciliations… That pain feels almost distant. Every time that Danny looks back without shame or looking away, he grows warmer. Maybe this year, the sun will finally come out for summer again.
Somehow, in this lucky and precious moment, he’s standing at very edge of the circle of light, holding hands with the man he loves. His skin tingles where it is so seamlessly touches Danny’s, and he just feels… clear. The fog that still slips into his mind is replaced by clear skies, and his lips carry a permanent little smile. “OK, dream rotation, but make it 80s movies characters. Three people,” he’s saying through a laugh, enjoying the silly small talk in their pocket of the night.
Danny knew that he wasn’t entirely innocent in the separation between him and Thomas, in fact, he was probably fully guilty on why it took them as long as it did to get back together. Well, they were at least working it out, one day at a time. Slowly rekindling a flame that Danny had thought long burned out some time ago. Yet, there they were, at the edge of the bonfire, smiling like they picked up right where they left off and he couldn’t be anymore thankful for the chance. “What? Come on, that’s impossible to answer…. who are your people?!” he grinned.
It's the most certain he's ever felt in a relationship, actually, knowing that they both could have so easily - at least, physically easily - let go, instead of being here. He wasn't sure that Danny would come back to this. Or make that conscious choice. But he forgot, really, that Danny always surprised him. When he kissed him on the doorstep of Theta after the first time they hung out, when he somehow agreed to elope with him, when he kissed him in that kitchen months after they'd found out it wasn't real... Somehow, someway, Danny always meets him there. Somehow, he decided that he still wants to hold Thomas' hand. His grin grows a fraction as he stares down at their hands, pretending to think. "Hmm.... Jareth from Labyrinth... Fezzik, from Princess Bride....... and Totoro. Does Totoro count?" He can't help giggling at the mental image, realizing that each character grew in size. "I feel like that's a really weird personality quiz answer." His eyes shine as he looks back up to meet Danny's. Just so happy to be here.
[text: Corpse] Hey! This is Thomas, your house president. Or, I suppose, as of now, ex-president. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to get to know you all that well, but I wish you the best of luck in your time here! If you ever need any help, don't hesitate to reach out - I may be a stranger, but I promise I'm a friendly one! There's a care package on your doorstep. Good tidings and warm feelings, Thomas Sanders ☺️☀️
[text: Corpse] House president privileges, I'm afraid. I got your file when you came in. Had to use that little perk one last time, I'm afraid. But no worries, I'm a vault 🔒
The morning of August 13th, Thomas stands at the edge of the quad, staring around with misty eyes. This school hasn't been kind to him, but maybe that's what he needed. He's certainly had to put in the elbow grease into his healing. And realize that maybe, he's going to be healing for the rest of his life. And that's okay. With the love of his life tucked into the pocket over his heart, and the love of his friends like air under his wings, he's finally ready. Despite his fear of change, despite the fact that he's a full adult and stepping into the world a new man... he's ready.
He steps forward, ready to search for the new times that he will find himself longing for when they're over. Just as a part of his heart will always long for this school.
war of the foxes - richard silken / waterloo - ABBA / euripides’ medea - the little theatre / anne carson / the three fates - luca cambiaso / the oresteia - aeschylus / road to hell II - hadestown / when i met you - mira lightner / andersen’s fairy tale anthology
Ngl I hate golf and I'm all for this. They put a golf course in our public park at the expense of hundreds of centuries-old live oak trees. Half of the walk around the park you're just looking at an empty golf course. Like 2 people want to play golf. So annoying.
Golf was a game developed in Scotland, where it rains up to 250 days of the year, and where the courses use very hard-wearing grass. The sand in the bunkers is because it used to be played on the coast - these traditional courses are called "Links" courses. The top Links course in Scotland, Royal Dornoch, uses no mains water at all. They have their own rainwater collection system.
It wasn't originally intended to be played in the middle of a desert on lush green turf that takes thousands of gallons of water a day to maintain. Unless you can keep the course alive using only rainwater collection, it shouldn't exist.
what are you even supposed to do when youre angry. cant scream at anyone cos im not a dick. cant break anything cos i paid money for that. cant rip my hair out cos i need it on my head. literally what now
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blakekathryn
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