He's starting to think he might have a problem.
Either that or he's completely lost his mind. He's not even sure which alternative he prefers. A problem is fixable, but losing his mind explains why he's still sitting in his car watching them. Sitting in his car after driving clear across town for no other reason then -to- watch them. Not that either reason really excuses what he's doing.
He told himself he was just curious. He just wanted to know what kind of woman attracted Danny's interest. And really, it's Danny's fault. If he hadn't called her to confirm their date then Martin never would have overheard the location and never would have been compelled to spend his evening parked on the side of the street.
And he certainly wouldn't be ducking every time Danny glanced out the restaurant window.
Because he's not that pathetic, really.
He can almost convince himself that this is perfectly normal. That he's not some deranged psychopath stalking his partner. He's just an overeager agent who happens to take his work home with him sometimes. Clearly Danny would understand. Hell, given the right circumstances he might do the exact same thing.
Except Danny would never sink so low as to follow Martin around and Martin knows that. Not that it makes him feel any better.
What would make him feel better -in a masochistic sort of way- would be for Danny to stop smiling at his date. Or maybe if she stopped laughing every time Danny made some offhand remark. Not that Martin can hear them, but he imagines he can, which really only makes the entire situation -that- much worse.
He's almost managed to convince himself to leave when Danny excuses himself from the table and heads further into the building. Martin knows if he wanted to he could slip inside, ask for a table near the back, watch them from the warmth and comfort of the restaurant and Danny probably wouldn't even notice him.
Except he might and Martin doesn't want to have to endure that conversation. So instead he turns the ignition, idling while waiting for the car to heat up. The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach returns tenfold when Danny returns, his hand ghosting across his date's bare shoulder.
He can no longer convince himself he isn't jealous. Not when Danny's leaning forward in his chair, invading -her- space the way he does at work with Martin.
The car is fairly warm now, at least compare to what it was so Martin leans forward and switches off the heat. He pauses to read the fuzzy aqua blue of the dashboard clock before cutting the engine and sinking back into his seat. They've been in there two hours now and Martin's starting to wonder what he's going to do when they leave. He knows, judging from the way they've been acting all night that they'll end up at one apartment.
He doesn't really want to see that. Knowing it and seeing it are two completely different things. At least if he goes home now he can pretend they went their separate ways. It has nothing to do with being worried that if he doesn't go home, he's going to end up parked outside Danny's building all night. Because really, this has gone on long enough.
Apparently going home wasn't exactly the best option he could have chosen. Not that he had many alternatives, but now he's forced to pace the small space in his living room, trying not to imagine what Danny's doing. He's certain they’ve left the restaurant by now, and are more then likely arriving at Danny's apartment. Maybe hers because for all he knows she lives closer.
He forces himself not to take the thought any further. He's already hard and doesn't really want to jerk off thinking about Danny and his date. Danny alone, maybe. Well, usually in fact but that isn't really the point. Not that Martin even knows what the point is anymore because he certainly doesn't have a chance with Danny. Not when he's very likely seducing some girl Martin's only seen from the other side of a window.
And this is why Martin was trying to avoid associating words like Danny and seducing, because now he's sitting on his couch, painfully hard and can't even find the self restraint to keep from undoing his pants. Despite his best efforts Danny's smirking face appears before him, the half smile directed entirely at Martin, and God, he didn't think it was possible to be so turned on by a mere thought.
He shivers a bit as he wraps a hand around his length, taking the time to squeeze his base just enough to ease some of the tension. He sorta likes the idea of making this long and drawn out, mostly because tonight has been an utter waste and this is the first pleasant thing he's done today.
The sudden knock on his door causes him to groan, half in frustration, half in pent up desire. He considers ignoring it when a second knock, more urgent this time fills the room. Stifling a curse, he stands, tucking himself back into his pants before moving to the door and flinging it open.
Danny's presence is so unexpected all he can do is stare, words dying on his tongue. Danny doesn't seem to mind, pushing past the door and practically forcing himself into Martin's home, sinking down onto Martin's couch. The realization that Danny's chosen the exact spot Martin occupied moments before causes him to shiver.
"What are you doing here?" he manages, the door slamming shut behind him.
And Danny just smirks, just the way Martin knew he would and yet it somehow seems unreal and he's forced to wonder if he's still fantasizing or if Danny's actually here.
"Just thought I'd drop in. So how was your night?" Danny replies and shit, he knows.
"Uneventful," Martin answers after a moments hesitation. He knows Danny can hear the lie, in fact he's pretty sure he knows exactly why Danny's here but he's not about to volunteer any information.
And clearly Danny doesn't believe a word of it. Martin can't quite tell if Danny's pissed or amused. He wants to ask but asking amounts to confessing, and Martin's not ready for that. He's still half hoping Danny will let it slide, not that the chance exists, but he still hopes for it, practically begs for it.
"You have fun watching us tonight?" Danny continues, and Martin ducks his head to hide his blush.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Martin mumbles.
Danny doesn't answer, instead merely lifting an eyebrow, the gesture telling Martin exactly what Danny thinks of the vain attempt to conceal his actions.
"Uh huh... And that would explain why you were parked outside the restaurant for, what was it, two hours?" Danny demands, but Martin can tell he's only half serious.
Martin crosses the room, falling into the chair next to the couch. He closes his eyes, willing Danny to leave. He's fairly certain he can't handle this right now, not when he's half hard and Danny's sure to notice any minute now. When he opens his eyes, Danny's still in the room, still looking at him like he's expecting an answer and damn it, Martin still doesn't have one. At least not one that he's willing to share.
"I'm sorry alright, I was just, I don't know, curious maybe?" he finally replies.
And that's the best Danny's going to get because Martin's sure as hell not going to explain more than that. Hell, he's already said too much and Danny doesn't look like he's planning on going anywhere anytime soon. Not that Martin would usually mind but tonight's different and no matter how incredibly hot Danny looks lounging on his couch Martin still wants him gone.
"Look, I'm tired, I was about to go to bed, so would you mind," Martin orders, gesturing to the door.
"Right," Danny laughs, making a point to glance down at Martin's lap. He makes no move to get up, instead sinking back into the pillows like the thought of leaving hasn't even occurred to him.
This Martin can't deal with. On top of everything else he can't handle a smug, oddly satisfied Danny smirking at him from three feet away. He's tempted to remove Danny bodily, but knows touching would be dangerous right now. Instead he stands, pausing in the hallway before turning back to make eye contact with Danny.
"You'll let yourself out?" he asks, as pleasant as he can manage.
And that seems to throw Danny. Martin's sure he was expecting a fight, maybe expecting to drag out Martin's misery a little while longer. He's also sure defeat was not what Danny had anticipated. A small surge of victory overwhelms him until the irony of it brings him back to earth. He smiles warily before disappearing into the bedroom.
He's half worried Danny won't leave. He can picture it now, Danny camping out on his couch to make a point while Martin tries desperately to get off without arousing suspicion. He's certain the entire situation should have quelled his arousal, but having Danny in his house only seems to have intensified it. As if the night wasn't bad enough already.
What he wasn't expecting was for Danny to follow him. He certainly wasn't expecting Danny to be pissed, really pissed and now he's forced to wonder if he's missed something.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Martin demands, irritation building in place of desire.
"What am I doing? What am -I- doing? Jesus Martin. You follow me around, -spy- on me, and then what, brush me off? Tell me to, 'let myself out?' You really think I came over here for this?" Danny yells, and Martin is forced to redefine exactly -how- pissed Danny actually is.
"Why did you come here? From the looks of it you should be fucking that girl right about now," Martin counters, knowing he should just back off but is too angry to stop himself.
"I wanted to know why," Danny explains, his tone softening only slightly.
"I don't know alright. I don't have a reason, I just, I don't know." And he doesn't know, not really, at least not in any way that makes any kind of sense. Certainly not in any way he can actually explain.
"Yeah, well I think I do," Danny interjects, and Martin isn't entirely sure when Danny managed to close the distance between them but suddenly they are –far- too close and Martin's half afraid he might suffocate from the intensity of it.
"Then enlighten me," he says, wincing at the small moan the escapes his lips as Danny presses even closer.
"You were jealous," Danny explains and gone is his earlier hostility.
And -that- causes Martin to pause.
"Yeah, maybe," Martin finally whispers, the words barely auditable.
"Good," Danny answers and Martin doesn't have time to question the comment before Danny's hands are splayed against his chest, his tongue forces it's way into Martin's mouth.
The small, and ever shrinking rational part of his brain tells him to stop this. To ask Danny to leave before this goes any further. But there's something so fucking incredible about the feel of Danny's lips struggling against his own, the heat radiating off Danny's body and before he can question what he's doing, Martin's pulling them towards the bed.
They fall in a tangle of awkward limbs, both too far gone to care about appearances. Breathy moans fill the otherwise silent room and Martin registers that the sound is coming from him. Not that Danny seems to mind, on the contrary he's smiling, his grin widening with each moan.
The sight only encourages Martin and he begins tugging at Danny's clothes in earnest. He's only vaguely aware that Danny's somehow managed to rid Martin of his shirt and is currently easing Martin's pants off his hips. He arches up, giving Danny leverage and allowing him to toss the offending garment onto the ground.
And now he's practically naked and Danny's till wearing his fucking jacket. Which really isn’t a bad thing because Danny looks hot as hell in the jacket but Martin doesn't like an uneven playing field. He somehow manages to break free of Danny's grasp long enough to push the soft leather off Danny's shoulders, smiling triumphantly when it hits the floor. He leaves Danny to remove his own shirt while Martin struggles with Danny's belt -that is really far too complicated given his current state of mind.
Danny doesn't seem to mind Martin's fumbling, if anything he seems to enjoy it, chuckling softly, the sound muffled as he pulls his shirt over his head. It's just enough time for Martin to -finally- get Danny's pants undone. And watching Danny slide soft fabric down his legs shouldn't be -this- hot, but it is and Martin moans low and loud, earning yet another laugh from Danny.
Martin thinks he should probably be slightly offended, after all, Danny is laughing at him. But then Danny reclaims his lips and all he can think about is the feel of Danny's mouth against his own. The firmness of Danny's body pressing into his. The soft bit of silk from Danny's boxers rubbing against his thigh, and God, he's not sure how much more of this he can take.
Danny seems to understand Martin's urgency, and for a moment Martin's certain he's not the only one dangerously close to losing it. The thought vanishes as Danny deftly removes the last barriers of clothing, leaving them skin to skin; all sticky, hot dampness that Martin can't seem to get enough of.
"Martin... Condoms... Lube..." Danny pants, the words sounding more like a chant than a question.
"Nightstand," Martin manages, reaching back to open the bedside drawer.
He tosses the bottle of lube, followed by a condom onto the bed. He's not exactly certain how Danny wants to do this but can't seem to get his brain to work long enough to ask. It doesn't seem to matter because Danny is too preoccupied kissing a path down Martin's chest and across his stomach to notice.
Martin can't recall when exactly he closed his eyes but they fly open as Danny's hands find their way under his thighs, pulling him forward and up. And then Danny's tongue is swirling around his tip and he's almost certain -this- will be what kills him. He musters enough self restraint to keep from thrusting up into all that wet inviting heat but the effort leaves him shaking.
Danny merely laughs, the sound vibrating through Martin sending sparks of pleasure coursing through his body. So far gone to the void, he doesn't notice Danny's hand until his finger is pressing against Martin's opening. He forces himself to relax, allowing Danny to stretch him, the sensation a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure.
Danny pauses, allowing Martin to adjust before finally taking Martin fully into his mouth, his tongue tracing patterns along the underside of Martin's cock. Martin knows this won't last long, not with Danny's finger pressing into him, not with Danny's mouth working his cock.
At the feel of a second finger Martin bucks forward, crying out as he comes, stars dancing behind his eyes. His orgasm leaves him breathless and panting, his entire body humming with energy. Danny doesn't even give him a chance to come down before he's pressed against Martin's still sensitive opening, the slick tip of the lube soaked condom sliding in with ease.
And god, Danny's mouth is -nothing- compared to the feel of Danny's cock stretching him, filling him. Martin's spent cock twitches somewhat painfully as Danny hits his prostrate once, then again. Martin doesn't complain, the sight of Danny, eyes firmly shut, head thrown back, is more then worth the pain he's certain to feel in the morning.
Danny's thrusts quickly become erratic, until he's all but pounding into Martin, the shear force slamming the bed against the wall and Martin spares a brief though for his neighbors. The though vanishes as Danny thrusts twice more before tensing, his body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm.
"God," Danny breathes as he collapses against Martin, still buried deep inside.
And now it's Martin's turn to laugh, because the sight of Danny spent and satiated is something he never thought he'd get to see. Laugher fades to a moan as Danny withdrawals, rolling onto his back and settling further into the bed.
"You know, you could have saved us both a lot of trouble if you'd just said something," Danny comments, his voice thick with exhaustion.
"Yeah, probably," Martin replies, laughing at Danny's groan.
Danny doesn't mention Martin's stalking habit again, not even the next day when Martin follows Danny around the office, trying in vain to stay out of eyesight. And when Danny catches him in the hall, he merely smiles and Martin knows Danny will be showing up on his door step again. And that thought is enough to keep Martin smiling for the rest of the day.