#wing pit daniel

[something-tofightfor]

Competitive paintball player Pedro’s name is Steve and he’s Wing Pit Daniel’s third cousin, just so you all know.

[something-tofightfor]

Third and Long

Pairing: Daniel (Wing Pit SNL sketch character) x Female Reader

Word Count: 4,437

Rating: M - There's some swearing and a teeny tiny little bit of spice, but nothing truly explicit.

Summary: Spending Super Bowl Sunday with Daniel is starting to become routine ... but this year, the outcome's not the same.

Author’s note:

Here we are again with yet another 'Chiefs are in the Super Bowl' piece ... but at least I got to write a different outcome this time. I really love this pairing, and this story is kind of a nice break in the action for me when it comes to the other stuff I've been working on. VERY low stakes, here.

The masterlist for this pairing can be found here in case you need or want to catch up. Enjoy, and thanks for reading!

You’d never seen Daniel as irritated during as game as he was that night. 

He was still interacting with the other people at the party - cracking jokes and enjoying the food, making it a point to comment on the commercials. But that look in his eyes… it’s…  You sighed from where you were perched on a couch cushion a few feet away from where he sat, watching as he winced at another dropped pass. 

“Daniel.” You called out to him, waiting until he’d looked over at you to continue. “Want to go get something to drink?” He looked again at he TV and wrinkled his nose, but then stood and nodded. You walked with him toward the kitchen, bypassing a few others that were grouped around the dining room table. 

Once you were in the kitchen, where another small TV on the counter had the game playing with no volume, you stopped and turned toward him. “So -”

“This game is bullshit.” He reached for the charcuterie board, picking up a couple of cubes of cheese and popping them into his mouth. “They’re playing like shit. Mahomes looks like shit. It’s making me not give a shit. And I don’t think anyone else on the damn team could catch a pass if -” 

“It’s just a game.” You reached for a different tray, picking up one of the appetizers you’d brought. “Just a single football -” 

His eyes widened and for a few seconds, you felt bad for teasing him. He loves football. And he loves his team, and it sucks to watch your team lose. “Just a game?” He scoffed, crossing his arms over the front of his jersey. “Only the biggest game of the -”

“I’m aware.” You chewed, tilting your head to the side. “I do know what the Super Bowl is, Daniel. I happen to like football, and -” He rolled his eyes but your teasing did the trick. Daniel moved toward you, putting his arm around your shoulders and drawing you closer so that he could kiss the top of your head. “It’s just a little unnerving to see you anxious after a whole season of just about everything going your team’s way, even when it shouldn’t have.” 

“Cut the shit.” He kissed you again and then pushed you away gently, the smile set on his lips. “You’ve seen me like this plenty of times over games.” But not recently. “And the refs favoring the Chiefs is also bu-”

“Absolutely accurate?” Your friend Charlie walked in, heading straight for the fridge. “It seems like if anyone even breathes in Mahomes’ direction, there’s a 15 yard penalty called on ‘em.” Daniel grumbled but didn’t speak up, leaning back against the edge of the counter. “Not tonight, though.” He turned from the refrigerator, holding up a beer bottle. “And maybe that’s making a difference.” 

“Can’t argue with that logic.” You cleared your throat. “I saw a post on -” Daniel groaned, reaching up to pull his hat off so that he could run a hand over his face, making both you and Charlie laugh. “I’m just saying….” 

“I’m going to go and watch the rest of this game now.” Daniel resituated his hat, scowling at his friend and then you before his expression relaxed into a more easygoing one. “Are you coming, or are the two of you going to stay in here and talk more shit?” 

“Oh I’m coming with you.” You reached for a small plate, loading it up with snacks before you held it up. “And this time I’m going to sit next to you instead of watching you from the comfort of the other -” He rolled his eyes but was smiling, and as you walked back out into the main room, you felt his hand against the center of your back.  

You settled back in, thigh pressed against his, and Daniel’s arm went around your shoulders, urging you closer. “I’m not moving til after the second quarter now.” He pointed at the TV. “And by then, it’ll be more even.” You seriously doubted that, but didn’t voice your opinion out loud, instead just leaning against him and keeping your eyes on the screen.

You couldn’t believe that it was the third year you were spending watching the game with Daniel - and the second as his girlfriend. It seemed like no time at all since you’d run into him in the beer cave, but the months you’d spent with him had been almost perfect, which had probably helped time pass rapidly. Turning your head during a commercial break, you eyed him, watching as he grinned at one of the ads, a beer bottle paused halfway to his lips. 

Meeting him had been a lucky thing, and despite the rift between you during the football season, there hadn’t been any other real issues in your relationship. And I’m not used to that. You smiled as he made a joke with Charlie, Will and Kyra, pointing at the TV. I’m damn lucky. 

From almost he minute you’d met him, there’d been a connection between you, and over the weeks you’d spent getting to know him, that connection had grown. By the time you’d made things official, it was like you’d known each other for years, and the longer you were together, the more you felt that way. He’d seamlessly integrated himself into your life and you into his, and you couldn’t picture a day without him. Or Raider. Smiling at the thought of the dog, who was waiting at home for you, you settled back in as the game restarted. 

The second quarter didn’t go much better for the Chiefs, and even though the majority of the room was upset by it, Daniel seemed the most put out, his jaw locked and his eyes narrowed as he stared straight ahead at the TV. “At least the halftime show is going to be great.” You nudged him with your elbow, Daniel finally looking over at you. “What’s that look for?”

“How are you always in such a good mood during the game?” He gestured to the TV. “It’s like you don’t care what the score is no matter who is playing, and -”

“I don’t.” You shrugged. “It’s a game. Who wins is irrelevant, unless you’ve got money on the outcome, which - to my knowledge - neither of us do this year.” We didn’t bet anything, I just realized. He nodded, cocking his head to one side. “I watch for the commercials. I watch because spending time with our friends is …” You gestured at the people scattered around you. “Nice. It’s a game, D. And I like seeing you happy when your team is winning, but …” You wrinkled your nose and decided to give him a little bit of shit. “A healthy dose of humbling is good for even the mightiest of -” 

He swore at you, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around you before he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “It’s just frustrating because I know they’re actually good.” I know it is. 

You both went quiet as the analysis ended and the actual show began, a few people in the room nodding their heads to the music throughout the entirety of the performance. Daniel kept you close, his arm around your shoulders and your head resting on his shoulder as you watched the TV screen together. 

Once the music ended, everyone scattered, the room clearing out as people refilled their food and drinks before the second half started. “Do you want to go, too?” You pointed at the kitchen. “Plenty of food left, and -”

“No.” He smiled, his expression soft. “I’m good where I am.” Daniel pulled his hat off, setting it on the arm of the couch before reaching for you with one hand. “C’mere.” You went willingly, smiling as he kissed you, though he didn’t push for more than a press of his lips to yours. Neither of you were phased by being open with your affection, but you were very aware of the fact that here were fifteen other people in the house, all of them filtering in and out of the room. “More of that later,” Daniel murmured when you broke apart, tweaking your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “You’re gonna have to keep my mind off of this loss.” 

That made you laugh. “Admitting defeat so soon?” You stood, putting your hands on your hips. “There’s still half a game left.” He rolled his eyes. “What?”

“They’d need to make a hell of a lot of changes in the second half just to give themselves a shot at catching up.” He waved his hand at the TV. “And I can’t see that happening.” You leaned closer, bending down and kissing his cheek. 

“Well, you’re about to see me going back into that kitchen and getting you another beer and another plate of wings.” His smile widened as you spoke, and you waved him off when he told you you didn’t need to. “Nah. I want to.” Winking, you turned away from him, weaving through guests and into the other room. 

It only took you a few minutes to get a plate for Daniel and a smaller one for yourself, balancing them in one hand as you carried two bottles with the other. You paused in the doorway before heading back to where he sat, leaning against the frame and watching as Daniel leaned forward, attention glued to the screen. 

“You’re going to have to distract the shit out of him after this.” Kyra whispered into your ear, pointing at Daniel with one finger. “They’re not coming back to win this one.” 

“I know.” You sighed. “I just hope I’m enough to keep his mind off the fact that his favorite team is embarrassing themselves on a national stage right now.” Kyra laughed and then lowered her head, still smiling. 

“I believe in you.” She switched her attention from Daniel to her husband, chewing on her lower lip. “But honestly, I might have to pretend to be distraught over the outcome and see if Will’s willing to try the same thing with me.” That made you snort, and when you separated a few seconds later, you were still smiling. 

He took the bottles from your hand when you got close, and then Daniel reached for the plates, too, holding them both while you got settled in next to him. “You didn’t miss much.” He picked up a wing, using it to gesture at the TV. “Except me making the point that I could probably go out there tonight and be a more effective QB than Mahomes, and -”

“Don’t we have this conversation at least once a game?” You wrinkled your nose at him. “Or at least once a game when they’re not playing up to your standards?”

“Maybe.” He rolled his eyes, biting into the chicken. “But tonight I actually mean it.” You bit back a laugh at that and then started eating, too, keeping your eyes on the TV. 

The third quarter was largely uneventful, until most of the way through it. 

The Chiefs fans in the room grew more and more frustrated as the clock ticked down, and when the Eagles scored another field goal, Daniel pulled his hat off and covered his face with it, groaning into the fabric. You heard him grumble the word unbelievable before he lowered it, but when he turned his head toward you, there was a genuine smile on his lips. “What?”

“It’s almost baseball season.” That made you laugh, too, and some of the other people in the room joined in. He’s not wrong. “Completely stress free time of year for me. Six months of sports that I can just watch and enjoy and -” 

“I’m calling bullshit on that.” Charlie cut in, using a beer bottle to point at Daniel. “I’ve seen you agonizing over your Fantasy Baseball team at work. Maybe it’s less stressful than football season, but -”

“Thank you, Charlie.” You lifted your hand and put it against your chest. “I can’t even count the number of times I’ve heard “oh, do you think Bryce has a good shot against this pitcher?” and “he’s on a hot streak right now, maybe I should trade for him and get rid of the guy that’s slumping” or even “who would you start? I don’t really care this week so you fucking pick.” It has got to be in the hundreds, so -”

“Now you’re just ganging up on me.” Daniel flipped a middle finger at you and his friend, but you could tell he was trying not to grin behind it. “I see how it is. I’m just going to - oh, fucking bullshit!” His attention went back to the TV, where the Eagles had just returned a kick for a touchdown, making the score 34-0. Ouch. “This is just painful at this point.” 

You agreed - and even though you’d gone into it hoping for an Eagles upset, you’d wanted it to at least resemble a competitive game. Because this is a blowout and that’s not fun. “And the commercials aren’t even good enough to make up for it, either.” 

“They’re not.” Daniel ran his fingers through his hair. “That Dunkin’ one was the only -” His eyes widened and he pointed at the TV, lips parted. “Holy shit, I think they’re going to put points on the board.” 

A few people in the room cheered as the play was completed, and you heard Daniel mutter something to the effect of six lousy points while he focused on the TV. No one reacted when the two point conversion was missed, though. That doesn’t surprise me with the way things have been going. You sighed as the clock ran down, but instead of keeping your eyes on the TV, you pulled your phone out, clicking on the list of alerts you’d received since the beginning of the night. 

You’d posted a photo of you, Daniel and Raider before leaving his house, the dog’s football bandana clearly visible, even though your arms were around his neck. And unlike the present, Daniel’s smile was wide and bright, his hair messy from air drying after the shower you’d taken together just before. “You don’t have to look at a picture of me, I’m right here.” He nudged you with his elbow, lifting a brow. “Raider’s going to be so happy to see us when we get back.” 

“Yeah, but in the picture, you’re smiling.” He rolled his eyes, but didn’t look away. “And he is. I’m sure he’s going to want to play, since we left him alone all night.” Daniel laughed quietly, reaching over with one had to slide his fingers between yours. “Everyone’s commenting that they’re sorry you don’t have a more competitive game to watch.” 

It wasn’t a lie - most of the comments on the picture were apologetic in nature, since all of your family and friends knew Daniel’s team preferences. But there are a couple he won’t be so happy to read. “Yeah, I’m sorry too.” He rubbed at his eyes. “Whatever. It is what it is.” 

You wanted to believe him, and you thought he wanted to believe himself, too, but you didn’t miss the tightness in his jaw as Philadelphia scored again - and then again almost immediately after. 

And you definitely didn’t miss the way he took his hat off and flipped it inside out before putting it on backwards, the brim pointed downward and at his shoulders. Rally cap when they’re down by 34 with eight minutes to go? OK, I guess. 

But there was no denying that you liked the way he looked. He rarely wore his hats backwards, and even though you knew he’d hate seeing it later, you snapped a picture of him, wanting to be able to look at it as often as you chose to. Maybe I can convince him to wear a hat like that more often. He leaned forward, hands between his knees, entirely focused on the remaining minutes of the game - and instead of watching the TV, you focused on him, lips twitching as you held back a smile. 

“Well fuck.” He grinned a few minutes later, the expression lifting both cheeks. “They scored again.” It was too little, too late, even with the extra points, and so was the final scoring play of the game, a meaningless touchdown and another 2 point conversion. “Well.” He sighed as the game ended, the celebrations beginning on he screen. “At least they didn’t completely embarrass themselves and score zero points the entire game.” 

You didn’t agree with that assessment, but chose not to speak up about it - for Daniel’s sake. “I’m sorry your team lost.” You bit the inside of your lip. “That’s the first time I’ve said that to you during a Super Bowl in the entire time I’ve known you.” He laughed, pushing to his feet and then turning to face you, holding both hands out. 

“Let’s hope it’s the last.” He helped you up, and then you both focused on cleaning up your space, carrying everything into the kitchen and the trash cans. It didn’t take you long to get your things together, but by the time you were saying goodnight, to-go containers of food and leftover drinks in bags that hung over your arms, the kitchen was mostly cleaned up - and you’d been told that you didn’t need to stick around to help finish. 

That was fine with you, since you’d offered to drive home, and even though it wasn’t late, it was late enough that you were ready to go. He stopped you before you stepped around  the front of the car, Daniel’s fingers closing around your arm. “What?” He didn’t reply, just let his eyes move over your face, lingering on your lips. I know that look. “Daniel?” 

“I know it’s just a game.” He pulled you closer, his free hand moving to your hip. “But thank you for … humoring me?” He frowned. “That’s not even the right word for it.” 

“I get it.” Reaching up, you pulled his hat off and then dragged your fingers through his hair, nodding. “It sucks when your team loses.” He sighed, the sound making you smile. “But… it gives me a chance to take your mind off of it, right?” That did the trick, Daniel’s eyes widening in the glow of the streetlights. Knew it. “We’ll see if I can figure something out.” 

“Oh, I know you can.” He smirked at you, narrowing his eyes as he got closer. “You’re really good at it.” He cut off your chuckle with a kiss, Daniel’s lips warm against yours. Unlike inside, where you’d had to worry about an audience while you kissed, there was no one outside with you - and you took advantage of it. 

You nipped at his lip, teeth catching on the fullest part of it, and that was all he needed. Daniel spun the two of you around so that your back was pressed against the car door, his body holding yours in place. It reminded you of the first night you’d met, even if the current kiss was much less PG, and you knew that he was likely thinking the same thing. We usually are. 

You smiled into it, lips parted, and when you felt his tongue nudge yours, you sighed, arms going around his neck. I’m so glad we met. I’m so glad -

“Can’t you two get a room or something?” Kyra. You hummed at the interruption, but Daniel didn’t back away immediately, instead finishing the kiss and then pressing another quick one against your mouth before turning his head. 

“Go away. She’s trying to take my mind off of the crushing loss my team just -”

“Don’t care.” She laughed, the lights on her and Will’s car flashing as she unlocked it. “Also it’s fucking cold out. Wouldn’t you rather be somewhere warm?” You didn’t disagree, and neither did Daniel, his grumble loud enough for your friends to hear. “I’m right. Don’t give me shit, Harper.” 

“Fine. But only because you asked so nicely.” You pushed away from the car and ducked under Daniel’s arm, flipping your middle finger at your friend and her husband. “Drive safe, you two.” They assured you that they would, and only moments later, you and Daniel were in his car, waiting for it to warm up a little before you pulled away from the curb. “She wasn’t wrong, you know.” You looked over at him, watching as Daniel turned his head toward you. “I will be happy to be inside with you.” 

He grinned, holding both hands out to gesture at the windshield. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”

— 

Less than an hour later, the two of you were headed into his bedroom. 

He’d ripped off his jersey the second you’d walked in the front door, tossing it - and his hat - onto the couch before he’d even kicked off his shoes. You’d gone through your routine - letting Raider out, putting the leftovers away and getting things ready for the following morning - before changing into pajamas. 

But it hadn’t taken long for the two of you to finish everything, and when Daniel’s hands found your waist and turned you toward the comfort of his bed, you didn’t try to deter him. Raider didn’t follow; instead, the dog curled up on his bed in the dining room, eyeing you as you passed by. Night, buddy. 

“Want to go out for dinner tomorrow?” He moved his hand up the center of your back, voice low. “Or do you have other plans?”

“I’ll have to check my schedule.” Turning to face him, you sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know what my other boyfriend is -” He climbed in on he other side and then reached for you, pulling you down beside him. “Yes, I’ll go to dinner with you.” You replied through a laugh, rolling on your side to face him as he pulled he spare comforter over both of you. “Where?”

“Don’t care.” He inched closer, mouth trailing over your cheek and then landing against yours. “You pick.” I always get to pick. “Hey.” He said your name, following it up with a sigh. “I’m sorry about earlier.” Daniel closed his eyes. “With the game, I mean. It was -”

“Why are you apologizing?” You used two fingertips to push hair away from his forehead. “Your team was losing by a lot. You’re not used to that, and you’re competitive. Half of the people at that party were upset, too.” 

“But it’s just a game.” He shrugged, his hand sliding down your body and settling against your hip. “And I’m a grown-ass man, and -”

“Debatable.” You winked at him, your hand moving to rest atop his cheek. “But honestly, Daniel? That one guy who works with Kyra was a hell of a lot more annoying about it than you were. I’ve never seen someone typing so hard on their phone before.”

“He lost like $500 on the game.” Daniel winced. “I talked to him in the kitchen about it.” That’ll do it. “Thought about suggesting that next time, he do something like we did last year and make a non-monetary bet, but I figured he’d deck me.” That made you snort, but you nodded in agreement. “Which reminds me. We didn’t bet anything this year either.”

“It took you until August to use your third freebie, Daniel.” You shifted on the mattress, lifting one foot and sliding it over his calf. “Not that I’m complaining, but …” His eyes widened as you brought it up, the tip of your tongue darting out to wet your lips. I definitely wasn’t complaining while we ditched work for a long weekend together for it. “If you wanted to make a bet, you should have said something.” 

“You would have won this year.” He pushed his hand beneath your shirt, the warmth of his palm comforting. “For the first time.” 

“No. That’s not true.” It was your turn to lean in, brushing the end of his nose with yours. “We both won that first year with the squares. Last year was a fluke.” He scoffed, turning his head enough that he could brush his lips against yours. “And this year? Yeah, I guess you’re right. It would have been a resounding win for me.” 

He rolled forward again, trapping you beneath the weight of his body as he kissed you. But you were both grinning when it ended, Daniel bracing himself with one hand so that he could look down at where you laid. “What would you have bet?” 

“A new jersey.” You answered immediately, arching a brow. “Because obviously your current one isn’t as lucky as you think it is. You could pick a number and personalize the name instead of wearing Mah-”

“Done.” He ducked down, kissing you again. “I’ll order it tomorrow.” Really? “You mentioned it last year and I just couldn’t do it, but now I feel like I’ve gotta.” 

“A fresh start for next season.” He nodded, a serious expression on his face despite the topic of conversation. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m pretty sure you promised me that you’d distract me when we got home.” I did. “And I don’t think that you meant talking about a new -”

“I definitely did not.” Your hand went to his waist, fingers sliding between his sweatpants and skin and then down, curving around him and urging his hips against yours. “The last thing I want to talk about right now is football.” He smirked at you, his lips twitching. “How’s that sound?” 

“Perfect.” He moved, positioning himself so that he could straddle one leg, and then Daniel sat up, pulling his shirt off and letting it fall onto the ground beside the bed. You stared up at him for a few seconds before reaching up to trail your fingers over the skin of his abdomen, thumb rubbing against the dark trail of hair there. “Hey.” He reached down, catching one of your hands and then bringing it up to kiss your knuckles.”I know you said no football, but …” Daniel wet his lips, eyes locked with yours. “I hope that we can make this  … and watching together?” You nodded, unsure of where he was going. “Hope we can make it tradition for a long time.” 

“Three years isn’t enough?” He didn’t start speaking until he’d leaned closer, his head shaking back and forth as he sought your lips out for another kiss. 

“Not even close.” 

—