Of Things in Dreams

NC-17

He wakes painfully hard, his sheets damp with sweat and the image of Danny writhing beneath him etched into his memory.

He thinks he might just be going crazy.

It's been going on for days, dreams haunting him until he's almost afraid to go to sleep. They make no sense, because he doesn't want Danny. He's certainly not attracted to Danny and for the life of him he can't figure them out. He's starting to worry he might actually be losing his mind. It's a plausible explanation, and it's certainly better than the alternative.

Sighing, Martin rubs the sleep from his eyes before pushing aside the tangled mess of covers. It's the third time this week he'll have to do laundry and he's starting to think he might need to start sleeping in the tub. The hardwood is cool beneath his feet as he pads across the floor. Into the bathroom and this won't be the first time he's had to start off the day with a cold shower. He hopes it'll be the last, this has to end.

~*~

He's early, trying desperately to focus on the pile of paperwork in front of him but he can't seem to sit still long enough to start it. His hands twitch involuntarily, his body tensing at every sound and his neck's starting to hurt from constantly glancing over his shoulder. Danny's not in yet.

He's not even certain why he wants to see Danny. He thinks maybe seeing the other man might remind him that they're just dreams, nothing more and this is all just his subconscious's warped idea of a joke. He doesn't find it very funny. He has a feeling Danny would find it hilarious.

As soon as he thinks it, Danny's laughter drifts into the building. He doesn't bother stopping himself from glancing over, watching as Danny and Vivian exit the elevator, laughing over some private joke that Martin would rather not know. He can probably guess the punch line, and it takes him several moments to stop imagining them laughing at him. Danny can't possibly know.

Or maybe he does, because as soon as he sees Martin looking, he smiles; a coy, amused smile that touches his eyes and Martin swallows against the sudden rush of moisture in his mouth. Not happening, he tells himself, glancing up to watch Danny cross the room. He stops mere feet from Martin's desk, still smiling and Martin thinks he almost looks edible.

"You okay, Martin?"

"Fine," Martin manages, turning back to his pile of paperwork and willing himself not to blush.

"You sure? You look a little pale," Danny continues, his smile replaced by a frown and Martin shouldn't be happy that he looks sick rather than aroused.

"Just a head cold," Martin lies, purposely avoiding Danny's gaze and resisting the urge to ask him to leave.

He could think if Danny would just keep his distance. He hasn't slept in days, not really, and it's starting to interfere with his job. With his *everything* and he's fairly certain Danny's presence is only making it worse. He briefly considers putting in for a transfer. The thought makes him laugh, just under his breath and it's not until he looks up that he realizes Danny's still staring at him. Frowning like he's not certain what to do with Martin and Martin only laughs harder.

"Sorry, it's nothing," he manages, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all.

Danny doesn't seem believe him and before Martin can register what's happening, a hand is resting on his forehead. Danny's touch is cool, soft and Martin swears he can taste Danny's cologne.

Drifting into the space between them until Martin's drunk off the fumes. Somewhere in the back of his head alarms are going off, telling him to pull away, but Danny's hands are sliding across his skin and Martin can't concentrate on anything else. They trail down his neck, pulling on his tie and Martin's mouth falls open. He's fairly certain he's talking, but before he can make out the words, Danny's mouth crushes his own. The kiss is intense, enough to make Martin instantly dizzy and he can't think for the scent of Danny.

Surrounding him like a fog, thick and heavy and Martin barely registers the hands pulling on his jacket. Tossing it aside like it's some useless rag and when Danny finds flesh, Martin whimpers into the kiss. He doesn't remember standing, but suddenly he's stumbling backward, his legs colliding with the desk and he sits down hard. Danny's on him in an instant, pulling at his remaining clothes and somewhere in the back of his head, Martin thinks people are watching.

"You don't have a fever," Danny comments and Martin blinks.

The room seems to tilt, blurring before finally coming into focus and Danny's still staring at him.

"Maybe you should head home," Danny suggests and Martin stares back in horror.

Bile rises in the back of his throat, sweat breaking out on his brow and Martin twitches with the need to run. He watches Danny open his mouth, about to say something else, but before he can get the words out, Martin's standing.

"I'm fine," he repeats, pushing past Danny and heading toward the bathrooms.

~*~

He's starting to think he needs to send the universe a fruit basket.

Because he hasn't seen Danny since this morning and, so far, he hasn't imagined Vivian tearing off his suit. He shudders a little at the thought, glancing over to ensure Vivian's still behind the wheel. He really needs to start paying attention to these things, but if Vivian's noticed his lapse in concentration, she hasn't said anything. Martin once again sends up silent thanks, turning back to stare out the side window at the passing landscape.

The case has been fairly standard, nothing warranting his full attention and Martin's starting to think his luck just might be changing. Maybe he'll even get a decent night's sleep tonight and tomorrow everything will be fine. He and Danny will be back to playful banter and the occasional argument and he can stop worrying about avoiding the other man. It's something to hope for, anyway, and when Vivian finally pulls into the Bureau parking garage, Martin finds himself smiling.

His smile lasts just until he reaches his desk, fading just as quickly as it came and Danny's sitting at the conference table. Pouring over case notes and potential leads and Martin knows he'll be expected to help. At least until Vivian's done giving Jack their report, so he takes a deep breath, crossing the room and choosing the chair furthest away from Danny.

"Find anything?" he asks, clearing his throat and staring at the wall just beyond Danny's head.

"Maybe, come take a look at this," Danny says, twisting in his chair and beckoning Martin over.

And he can do this. Cross the room and glance over Danny's shoulder without touching and without smelling and without freaking out because it's Danny and they do this all the time and nothing has changed. And okay, maybe something has changed because Martin has to physically force himself to move. Across the room and when he reaches Danny's side, he keeps his distance. He's forced to squint to make out the writing on the paper in front of Danny, but if it means not making physical contact, Martin's willing to risk damaging his eyesight.

"You're not still sick, are you?" Danny asks, taking in Martin's distance and Martin feigns a cough.

"Yeah, figured I'd keep my distance, not spread any germs, you know," Martin replies, breathing a sigh of relief at Danny's nod and turning back to the spread of papers.

"You see this? He transferred pretty much his entire life savings..."

And this is not happening. Because Martin's fairly certain Danny's talking, rambling on about case related information but his hand is inching up Martin's leg. Moving so slowly that only the increased throbbing in Martin's groin tells him it's moving at all. Inch by inch until he's...

"Down to Mexico three weeks..."

Cupping Martin's erection and squeezing, stroking in slow, steady strokes through the coarse fabric of Martin's dress slacks and never once taking his eyes off the page in front of him and...

"Ago. I have a feeling our boy decided to make a run for..."

Pulling at Martin's zipper. Sliding a hand inside until his thumb is sliding across Martin's head. Playing with the small slit in Martin's cock and...

"The border."

"Jesus."

"I know, but hey, we get a free trip to Mexico out of the deal," Danny continues, standing and gather the pile of papers to bring to Jack.

Martin watches him go, waiting until Danny's out of sight before reaching down and tugging up his already closed zipper.

~*~

He knew this would happen. Dreaded it and avoided it and tried not to think about it but they're boarding the plane and Danny's still rambling about picking up some good Cuban cigars when they're down there and all Martin can do is pray for a plane crash. Because he can't handle this, not a few days trapped in a foreign country with only Danny for company and fuck.

"Martin?"

Danny's voice breaks through his thoughts and it takes Martin a moment to realize he's staring. Blinking on permanent repeat and Danny once again gestures to the window seat. Martin slides across, swallowing a groan when Danny squeezes in next to him, their shoulders brushing together and he feels trapped. Far too warm and he flags down the nearest flight attendant.

"You think we could turn down the temperature a bit?" he asks, ignoring Danny's frown.

"Sorry sir, not until we're in the air," the attendant informs him, turning away before he can protest and Martin sinks back into his seat.

He takes his time adjusting his seatbelt, checking and rechecking his tray four times to ensure it's in an upright position. Only then does he relax, marginally, but he still tilts his body until he's staring out the window, purposely avoiding the man sitting next to him.

"You'd think you were the one afraid of flying," Danny jokes, leaning a little further into Martin's side and Martin releases a shuddering breath.

"Guess I'm still feeling a little under the weather," Martin tells him, closing his eyes and willing himself to fall asleep.

He can't remember the last time he wanted to sleep.

~*~

The cabin is dark when he opens his eyes, the soft light of reading lamps reminding him of candlelight. He shifts, the soft grey plane-issued blanket pulling across his lap and he frowns as he tries to remember when he asked for one.

"Good, you're awake."

He feels Danny's words before he hears them, ghosting across his cheek and before he can ask, Danny's lips are pressed against his neck. Kissing and biting and sucking and Martin can't suppress a groan. He can't do anything but lean into the sensation, straining for more and when Danny's hand inches beneath the blanket, Martin knows it'll never be enough.

"I was starting to get bored," Danny whispers, nipping at Martin's chin and working down his zipper.

"Sorry," Martin manages, lifting his hips to give Danny access and when Danny's hand finally slides into his pants, Martin turns his head and seeks out Danny's mouth.

Almost everyone else around them is sleeping, so Martin forces himself to remain silent. He sucks on Danny's tongue, his own hand seeking out Danny's belt and pulling until it gives way. A moment later and he's wrapping his hand around Danny's cock, stroking in time to Danny's hand and whimpering into Danny's mouth.

He's fairly certain there's regulation against this sort of thing, but no one seems to be paying them any attention so Martin concentrates on the silky soft texture of Danny's cock. Concentrates on the taste of Danny's mouth and when Danny pulls away, it's to lean over, inching down until Martin's forced to relinquish his hold on Danny's cock. It's worth it, though, Danny's mouth sliding down his length and Martin has to fight to keep from thrusting into all that wet heat.

"Martin?"

"Huh?"

He blinks against the sudden sunlight before rolling his neck, stretching out kinks and Danny's staring at him again.

"What?"

"She wants to know if you want something to drink," Danny says, nodding toward the attendant and Martin shakes his head.

Danny places his own order, asking for a ginger ale before turning back to Martin and smirking in amusement.

"You always moan in your sleep?" Danny asks, eyes flashing as they catch the late afternoon sun. Martin feels himself blush.

"Um, I..."

"That must have been some dream," Danny continues, relishing in Martin's misery and Martin's not certain whether to kiss him or kill him.

"Nightmare," Martin finally manages, turning back to stare out the window at the never-ending stretch of clouds.

"Right."

~*~

It takes them relatively no time to find their 'missing' person. Granted, the process of getting the Mexican authorities to release him from prison and into FBI care is an entirely different matter and now they're stuck with waiting.

"Martin, would you stop pacing," Danny says, leaning further into his seat and waiting for Martin to comply.

"This is ridiculous," Martin mutters, glancing out the room's small window and into the station.

There's a swirl of activity outside, Mexican police scrambling around, phones ringing non-stop and it's almost enough to drive Martin crazy. Well, crazier, anyway. The heat isn't helping; dry and sticking and he's fairly certain he has sand everywhere. There's probably a layer of dirt buried beneath his skin and, knowing his luck, he'll never get it out.

"We just have to wait on the paperwork, then we can head back to New York, case solved," Danny explains, his words cutting off as the door opens and one of the station's detectives enters the room.

"We can release him tomorrow morning, eight o'clock," he informs them, ignoring Martin's sighed protest.

Danny looks over the paperwork, signing off for both of them and thanking the detective before heading toward the door. He pauses only once to ensure Martin's following. Martin holds his tongue until they're back out in the parking lot, climbing into their substandard rental car. Then, he lets out another sigh, his hands balling into fists to keep from hitting something.

"What the hell are we supposed to do until tomorrow morning?" Martin asks, anger bleeding into his words and all he really wants to do is go home.

"I'm sure we can entertain ourselves until then," Danny replies with a laugh, starting the engine and pointing the car in the direction of their hotel.

Martin doesn't answer.

~*~

He can do this. He can last until tomorrow morning and all he has to do is ignore Danny. Refuse to leave his room, even for food, and then tomorrow be back on a plane, heading home where Martin can find a reliable shrink and get the help he so obviously needs.

He doesn't bother rolling his eyes when Danny knocks on his door.

Of course, there's always the chance it isn't Danny, or better yet, hallucination Danny and then he doesn't need to worry about making up some excuse.

"Yeah?" Martin says rather abruptly as he pulls open the door.

"Come on, let's get something to eat," Danny suggests, looking decidedly good in a pair of jeans and too tight t-shirt.

"Not hungry," Martin replies, closing the door.

He gets it halfway shut when Danny stops him, his hand pushing against the door with enough force to push Martin backwards until he almost trips over his own two feet.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Martin demands, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling in Danny's direction.

"Did I do something? Because you've been acting weird all day and I've had just about enough of it," Danny comments, stepping forward until he's standing in the room and this is not going well.

"I told you..."

"Yes, I know, you're not feeling well, poor thing. Cut the crap, Martin."

Angry Danny is a sight to behold and it takes all Martin's willpower not to touch, not to drag him forward by whatever piece of clothing he can get his hands on and kiss Danny until they both can't see straight. And obviously Danny's willpower isn't quite as strong because he's touching and...

"Stop."

"Martin?"

"You're drive me crazy, I can't, I can't do this anymore," Martin finally says, taking a step back and running his hands through his hair.

He glances up just in time to register the hurt in Danny's eyes. It's enough to take his breath away and he feels like someone's just punched him in the gut. It's painful, more than that and Martin finds himself wanting to confess everything. Just as quickly it's gone and Danny's turning around, heading back toward the door and the pain only intensifies.

"You know what, forget it. I'll see you tomorrow," he says, shoulders drooping in defeat and Martin watches him swing open the half closed door.

"Wait."

And he has no idea what he's doing, what he's going to say but he can't let Danny leave and now Danny's turning, staring at him and he has no idea what he wants to say or how to say it and that only leaves him with one option and...

Martin crosses the room, grabbing the front of Danny's shirt, pulling him forward until they're pressed together and it's the first time he's initiated anything so he knows it's real and fuck... Danny's kissing him back.

Moaning into his mouth and clutching at his arms and when Martin finally pulls away, Danny's expression is a cross between shock and arousal. It's just about the hottest thing Martin's ever seen and before he can register what he's doing, he's pulling Danny into the room and closing the door.

Danny's once again pressed against him, backed against the far wall and Martin's not certain what to do next. Danny makes the decision for him, pulling Martin forward until they're kissing again, hands tangled in one another's hair and hips rocking together like they've only just discovered sex.

"If this is a dream, I'm going to kill you," Martin mumbles around the kiss, whimpering slightly when Danny pulls away.

"You dream about me often... the plane?" Danny asks, eyes going wide at the realization and something close to affection flashes across his features.

"The plane, the conference table, my desk, the bathrooms at work, the rental car, my place, your place..."

"I get it," Danny interrupts, laughing at Martin's rambling and arching his neck to give Martin better access. "You should have just said something," he continues, and Martin feels more than sees his smile.

"I just did," Martin answers, tugging on Danny's shirt until Danny takes the hint, pulling back long enough to slide it over his head and onto the floor.

They're moving backward now, tripping over each other and shedding clothes faster than Martin thought possible. By the time they reach the bed, there's a trail of clothes littering the floor and they're both flushed and naked. Martin falls first, collapsing onto the mattress with Danny a second behind. For a moment, neither of them move, simply staring at one another until Martin bucks against Danny's leg.

It breaks the odd spell and suddenly Danny's renewing his attack, kissing and biting every inch of skin he can find and Martin writhes beneath him. The room is hot, stifling even, and by the time Danny reaches down to fish a condom out of his jacket pocket, they're both covered in a thin sheen of perspiration. Martin doesn't complain, leaning forward to catch a bead of sweat on Danny's chest with his tongue.

That gets him a moan, along with another thrust and when Danny finally straightens, Martin can't help but admire the glazed look in his eye as he tears into foil and unrolls a condom over his length. Martin has a feeling this is all going to be over way too soon, but it doesn't stop him from shifting, waiting until Danny's lined up before wrapping his legs around Danny's waist and pulling until his tip slides inside.

Danny shakes above him, eyes shut tight with concentration and Martin forces himself to watch until Danny's in as far as he can go. Only then does he allow his eyes to close, body tensing as Danny begins moving; angling deep until he's hitting that spot inside that causes Martin to bite his lip and moan Danny's name.

Martin can feel Danny everywhere, taste him on his tongue and feel him in his veins. It's almost too much to bear and way too soon he recognizes the familiar tingling along the base of his spine. He forces himself to hold out a little longer, flexing around Danny until Danny brings a hand between them, taking Martin's cock in hand and stroking in time to his thrusts.

Pleasure races along his limbs, coiling deep inside his stomach and when Danny hits his prostate for the third time, Martin tenses and comes in Danny's hand. Danny waits out his shudders, hands moving frantically over Martin's thighs until Martin finally relaxes. Only then does he begin moving again, thrusting once, once more before coming with enough force to shake them both.

~*~

It takes him a moment to recognize the shrill ringing as his cell phone. Another moment to find his cell phone and when he opens his eyes, he's met with the blank canvas of a foreign ceiling. Just like that the night comes rushing back and Martin switches off the phone's alarm before turning to stare at the vacant space beside him.

"Fuck."

Said to the empty room and Martin shifts. The movement sends tingles of pain racing through his body and Martin frowns, shifting again and there's no way that's just the remnants of a dream. Which pretty much means Danny used him for sex and great, not only is he fantasizing about his partner, apparently he's also a slut.

"Good, you're up."

Martin jerks his head up at the sound of Danny's voice, blinking at the towel clad figure standing in the entrance way to his bathroom.

"I thought maybe we could grab some breakfast before we head to the station," Danny continues, dropping the towel to the ground and giving Martin a very nice view of his backside.

"Are you really here?" Martin asks, no longer caring how pathetic he sounds.

Danny freezes, turning to stare at Martin like he's grown two heads. He drops the shirt in his hand, crossing back to the bed and sinking into the mattress.

"Pretty sure, otherwise this is a pretty realistic dream," Danny comments, pulling Martin forward and pressing their lips together.

"Just making sure," Martin replies as soon as they break apart, smiling against Danny's lips and laughing at the sudden turn of events.

Danny joins him in laughter, climbing back off the bed and pulling Martin up behind him. He points Martin in the direction of the bathroom, saying something about shower and food between breathless kisses. Martin nods his agreement, pulling away with some reluctance and heading in search of a shower, hot for once.

Fin.