L'Etranger by Madame D.

He blinked, swallowed, blinked again, and stared up into the hazy blue eyes looking down at him, the blue disappearing underneath the rapidly expanding pupil. Exhaled.

"Darren," soft voice, almost a whisper; it wouldn't do to scare him, "Darren, what just happened?"

One minute they were in his living room, drinking coffee, instant decaf for Darren because normally, Daniel found decaf coffee simply offensive, but Darren didn't drink any other kind, so he bought a small jar of it on the off-chance that Darren might be dropping by *this* time. And then suddenly, in the middle of the word, Darren got that stormy look in his eye, and the next thing he knew, Daniel found himself on his back, sprawled on his light-beige couch, limbs spread out, with Darren straddling his chest. He was startled, yes. Not really scared - Darren wouldn't hurt him. But he was confused and he didn't like it. And Darren had that wild, unfocused look in his eye that made Daniel a little afraid *for* him. So he asked, softly, slowly, as if talking to a nervous animal, "Darren, what just happened?"

Darren's nostrils flared, thighs tightening, not unpleasantly, on the outside of his hips, hands clenching just *this* side of convulsively in his shirt. Darren blinked, then dropped his head between his hands, onto Daniel's chest. Daniel was assaulted by the musky pungent smell of Darren's cologne, or maybe it was aftershave, and cautiously breathed it in. The spicy scent of it tickled his nose. Darren groaned, lifted his head, looking him straight in the eye.

"I miss you."

Right. "I missed you too. It's been far too long." He found his bearing and awkwardly placed his hands on Darrens warm back, patting clumsily.

"No, Daniel. I *miss* you." This was followed by light grinding of his hips into Daniel's and - Oh. *Oh*. Darren had always been one to cuddle, to show and appreciate physical affection. This, however, was new.

Darren was still looking at him, as if trying to see through him, right to the core maybe into the heart that was beating a shade too quickly. Then he lowered his head and licked *there,* right behind the earlobe at the curve of his jaw, and it was nice. Then Darren nibbled there, and kissed, soothing with his lips and tongue, and Daniel felt as though millions of tiny little electric shocks were dancing on his skin.

Darren continued his gentle assault and Daniel thought that maybe Darren was a little too needy right now, a little too lonely, and if he let the course of action run out, Darren would nuzzle a little more and then stop, contented to know that Daniel was still there for him. Darren worried his earlobe, biting lightly, and Daniel suddenly wished he still had his hoop earrings in, for Darren's tongue to play with. Right. He did not just think that. Darren blew in his ear, gently, making Daniel shudder, just a little.

"Daniel," and it was the same tone Daniel had used a few minutes ago. Soft and gentle, almost a whisper, "Daniel can I suck you off?"

Daniel blinked at that. Closed his eyes. Tried to collect his thoughts enough to push Darren off, sit up, and demand to know what the fuck had happened; why, after so many years of friendship, and a few years of non-friendship and almost complete lack of contact, beyond odd conversations that had them talking through newspaper and magazine articles about the break-up, why *now* Darren was suddenly trying to spoil it all by adding a physical barrier, when they were just learning how to be with each other again, how to be *around* each other again.

He was still trying to wrap his mind around it all when he heard the rasp of the zipper, metal teeth becoming undone oh-so-slowly but surely. He opened his eyes, wanting to see Darren's, wanting to know what was going on in that head of his, but found Darren's head bent and his entire focus concentrated on his hand, the one undoing the zipper. The other one was gently scratching Daniel's chest, and if his nails had been a little shorter, it would have felt like kneading, not scratching. He couldn't feel the nails on his skin through the cotton of the shirt, but he felt pressure. And it felt odd. Not unpleasant or bad, just unfamiliar, because the hand doing it was too large and unfamiliar, as well.

And then he felt cool air on his exposed cock, and then an unfamiliarly large hand that wasn't his own was grasping, and the pressure was just right, the grip just perfect as opposed to being too light, which he'd gotten used to having to correct since he didn't do it too light himself, either. After a few pumping gestures, there was slithering downward on his chest, and he'd stopped thinking, stopped looking, just closed his eyes and *felt* the texture of it, the touch, the warmth.

And then it was a different kind of warmth, sleek and wet, and the mouth engulfing him was unfamiliar as well, too large, too hot, and then he was swallowed and oh God, it felt so good. He opened his eyes and looked down. Hands on his hips stopping him from thrusting, from buckling like he wanted to, and that was unusual, as well, the hold too strong, hands too large, thumbs rubbing circles into the hollows of his hips. A dark-blond head was bobbing up and down rhythmically and he could see the fragile curve of Darren's neck and the protruding vertebrae. And then he was coming, too soon and not soon enough, and all he could do was squeeze his eyes shut, gasp, and choke out Darren's name that came out a bit like a sob, and feel the throat muscles working as Darren swallowed.

He had wanted Darren to look up, for their eyes to meet and just *hold* when he came but he knew it wouldn't happen. And yet, it was still a shock for Daniel to see the back of Darren's head instead of his face when he threw his head back and arched into the warm mouth. And then he was coming down, slowly, and only then did he realise how hard his hand must have been gripping Darren's short ginger hair (and he must remember to tell Darren that he loved the haircut and the new look), because his fingers hurt when he finally attempted to straighten them.

He opened his eyes when he felt himself being neatly tucked back in, and the zipper slid upwards, enclosing him in. Darren's eyes were huge and scared, still infused with that wild look, but some of the desperation had washed off, and for that, he was glad. He smiled a little at the hair sticking up in all directions, remembering when Darren's hair was this short, not too long ago, but before they'd stopped talking, and would stick up like porcupine needles when he would forget to wash off the gel after the concert. Daniel slid his hands up Darren's sides, cupping the biceps, coaxing him to pull himself up to his chest. He wanted to taste himself on those glistening lips, but he knew he couldn't. Too unfamiliar still. So he enticed Darren to wriggle upwards, and Darren did, snuggling up and almost trying to crawl inside him, and Daniel let him, tucking Darren's head underneath his chin, the flyaway hairs tickling his nose. He rubbed Darren's back, not feeling awkward or clumsy anymore, and tried to figure out a way to make Darren stop shaking.

He heard Darren mumbling into the hollow of his throat, and brought up his hand to gently massage of back of Darren's neck.

"I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry." Darren kept saying.

"Why? Whatever for?" Soft, gentle tone, and maybe it was all right now to drop a small kiss on top of Darren's hair, feeling its softness, tasting the scalp, slightly sweaty and smelling of hair products, shampoo, and Darren underneath.

"I'm sorry. I took advantage. You didn't give your consent. You didn't say yes."

Ah. "Darren, I didn't say no." And Darren stopped shaking and just sighed.