Eight Simple Rules

a Without a Trace story

by dirty diana 

dirtydiana78@hotmail.com

Kisses to Inalasahl for the beta. Kink (dom/sub) warning.


Martin has a lot of rules, and the first time that Danny starts to figure that out he is sitting on Martin's desk, teasing him over something that happened in the morning meeting. He shouldn't. He knows that. He should give Martin a break, because Martin is still kinda new, and he is learning. He is learning pretty fast, actually. But any negative karma points that Danny is earning are worth it, just to see Martin scowl and blush.

Danny picks up the mug on Martin's desk. It is yellow, with large capital letters in black: #1 Uncle. Danny grins. "Uncle Martin, huh?"

Martin glares at him. Then he takes the mug out of Danny's hand, fingertips touching fingertips. He places it back exactly the way it was before, the handle facing his right.

"Don't touch my stuff," he says evenly. "And get off my desk."

Rule Number One: Don't sit on Martin's desk.

Rule Number Two: Don't touch Martin's stuff without permission ever.

After that, Danny starts to notice Martin's rules all the time. Which is par for the course, since he notices Martin all the time. He likes noticing Martin, but he hasn't got any sign that Martin is noticing him back.

It's fine. Danny is waiting.

They drive out to Fort Montgomery one day. Danny hates these cases, these out of the city cases. It's fucking far to drive, especially in silence. But, as he has been reminded more than once, Danny isn't driving. It turns out that, while he has the steering wheel, Martin doesn't like to listen to music. Or news radio, or sports radio, or anything at all.

Rule Number Three: No distractions while Martin is driving.

Danny reminds himself to try and get paired up with Viv tomorrow.

They aren't really talking, either. Danny thinks that Martin might still be mad over that whole desk thing, but he's not sure. So he starts tapping up a beat on the dashboard, humming along, making his own music.

"Danny."

Danny ignores him for a bit, da dum dum dee.

Martin says, "Am I going to have to handcuff you to get you to stay still?"

Danny grins. "You'd like that, huh?"

Martin doesn't blush like he was supposed to. He doesn't smile back. Suddenly Danny isn't sure that Martin understood that he was joking.

When they get back, it is another late night at the office. Danny buys Martin dinner, to make up for the pain in the ass that he knows he's been lately. A smoked meat sandwich on rye and french fries with the skin still on from the deli around the corner.

"Thanks," Martin says. He opens the Styrofoam container and closes it again. Then he leaves the whole thing sitting on his desk, getting cold.

Rule Number Four: No carbs after five p.m..

The day that Danny breaks down and makes his move, they are in the office elevator. It is moving too slowly as usual, his tax dollars at work. Martin is in a good mood today, smiling, flirting maybe. Danny isn't sure.

Danny kisses him around the thirteenth floor. He figures he has held out long enough.

"Danny." Martin pulls away, as the elevator comes to a stop. "Don't."

He doesn't look shocked, though. He looks mad.

Danny nods and shrugs, with a covering smile. He isn't surprised really, or even that upset. Nothing ventured, and all that. He feels dumb, though. For reading it wrong. He has probably been doing that since Martin got here.

Rule Number Five: No kissing Martin.

Work is awkward for a while. Work is always awkward. There is something going on that Viv and Jack aren't talking about, again, and Danny doesn't even want to know. And Sam is being quiet, the case getting to her. But she is refusing to talk about it, the way that Sam does. The way that they all do.

There is only so much awkward that Danny can take, even around here. He surprises Martin one day at his desk, around lunchtime.

"I am really sorry. About...you know." Danny smiles slightly, trying to laugh it off. A misunderstanding. But Martin doesn't smile with him.

He looks at Danny, and then looks away. "Get off my desk," he says.

Danny is good after that, really good. He doesn't tease Martin in meetings. He doesn't talk in the car. He is so good that Jack is starting to look at him funny. But Martin is smiling more, and he likes that.

"Hey."

Danny looks up from his keyboard. It is after hours, and they are the only ones left in this section of the building. He is surprised to find Martin standing in front of his desk, looking impatient. "Hey," he says.

"I'm done," Martin tells him. "Let's go."

Danny shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. "I really gotta finish this report, actually."

Martin's clear blue eyes crease and tighten. "No," he says. "Let's go now."

Danny smiles, waiting for the punchline. "Martin..."

"Danny."

No punchline.

Rule Number Six: No making Martin wait.

It is an understatement to say that Danny is surprised when he follows Martin to his car, and when Martin drives them both to Martin's apartment. He doesn't have a clue what they're doing, either of them. He is surprised at himself at first, following Martin without questions.

He is surprised at Martin later, kissing him against the wall of his living room. Kissing him hard, Danny's back pressed against pale blue plaster.

"What's going on? I thought you weren't into this."

"At work, Danny?" Martin asks. He sounds faintly scandalised. "Someone could have seen us."

"Okay." Danny pauses. "So you are into this?"

"On the next question," Martin says, "I drive you home."

"Got it," Danny answers breathlessly, because he definitely doesn't want that. He definitely doesn't want anything other than this, Martin's tongue rough and heavy in his mouth, up against the wall.

Rule Number Five, revised: No kissing Martin at work.

Martin's hands slide up Danny's body underneath his jacket. They are rocking together, hips touching, Martin's tongue tasting sweet.

Suddenly, Martin pulls away. "Bedroom," he says.

Martin's bedroom is like Martin, cool and quiet lines. They both move onto the bed, one tangled form.

Danny rises up to kiss him, only to find himself pushed down gently. "Stay still," Martin says.

"Why?"

Martin raises his eyebrows. "Danny. Is that a question?"

"No."

"I didn't think so."

Martin's fingers slip off Danny's tie, and pull at the buttons on his shirt. He is going slowly, way too slowly for Danny's liking.

"Martin..." He arches up again.

"If you move again," Martin says, "I get out my handcuffs. Do you want that?"

"I..."

"You don't want that, Danny. Trust me."

Martin stands up, and begins to undress. Unhurried and calm, driving Danny crazy. He drapes his clothes neatly over a chair, before coming to sit beside Danny on the bed.

Danny hasn't moved, watching Martin, holding his breath in his chest.

He tugs at Danny's pants, exposing a stiff, smooth erection. Then he leans over and kisses him, as his hands move down Danny's naked body. He strokes Danny's belly, the inside of his thighs. Then his thumb slides across the head of Danny's cock, messy pre-come sliding across the skin. Then Martin takes him fully into his hand, palm stroking up and down with painful and methodical slowness. Danny groans. He is watching Martin, flushed with concentration, as he jerks Danny off.

Danny arches off the bed, his cock grinding into Martin's hand.

Martin's hand pulls back abruptly, resting heat on Danny's thigh. "Did I say that you could come?"

"No."

"Then don't."

"Martin..."

Martin tilts his head, studying Danny attentively, a cool blue stare that almost hurts. "What?"

Danny pauses, but everything is a question. "Nothing," he answers.

Number Seven: No coming till you're told.

Martin kisses him again, his wet tongue pushing deep. Then he moves to stretch on the bed with Danny, the sensation of Martin's skin burning his own. Martin rolls them both on their side, with his hands on Danny's hips. He pushes forward gently. His cock rubs against the cleft of Danny's ass, full and hard.

"I want to fuck you," Martin whispers against his ear. "Now."

"Yes," Danny agrees with hitched breaths.

"Yes, what?" Martin asks.

"Yes, now."

He is cold, suddenly, Martin pulling away from him. "Yes, what?" Martin's voice is sharp.

"Yes, please." Danny is shivering, losing control. "Please, Martin."

Rule Number Eight: Always be polite.

Martin strokes into him, deep and slow. "Good?" he asks.

"Yeah," Danny breathes.

"What do you say?"

"Say?" Danny's mind is a blank, only aware of the heat in his belly that flows straight down to the tip of his cock. Martin is really fucking him, a slow unyielding rhythm.

"Danny." Martin's fingers tighten on Danny's thighs. "This," another languorous thrust, "is this what you want?"

"Yes."

"I'm giving you what you want. So what do you say?"

Danny moans, unable to help himself. "Thank you," he whispers.

"Pardon?" Martin is speeding up, just barely, fucking him harder.

"Thank you." He groans, as Martin rewards him with one more thrust. "Thank you."

"Very good," Martin murmurs, and comes inside him. Then rests like that for a moment, both of them still and breathing hard.

"Martin," Danny whispers, "please."

"Please, what?" Martin asks him, lips moving against the back of Danny's neck.

"Please, may I...let me come."

There is a pause, a long low silence. Then Martin rolls away from him and sits up. He examines Danny all over, flushed and sweat damp skin. "Yes," he says.

"Martin..."

Martin interrupts him. "I said, yes. Go ahead."

Danny grips his cock, groaning hard as his fingers touch the sensitive skin. His fingers slide up and down, a few vicious strokes, and then he spills hard over his fingers.

Martin is watching him, without a word. He picks up Danny's trembling hand, and gently licks the come from Danny's skin, finger by finger.

"Thank you," Danny whispers.

Martin smiles slightly. "You're welcome," he answers quietly. And then he leans in to kiss Danny gently, with a wet salty mouth. "I'm going to take a shower. You can stay if you want to."

Danny doesn't move, listening to the sound of the shower turning on. Then he rolls over in the bed, away from the sticky side. He rests his body in the hollow of the bed, heavy and sated, breathing in Martin's scent.

He doesn't want to get up just yet. He figures that he waited long enough to get here. Following the rules isn't easy. And there's more that he wants. But it will wait.

~fin.

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