Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1194489.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV), Orphan_Black_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Danny_Mahealani/Felix_Dawkins
  Character:
      Felix_Dawkins, Danny_Mahealani
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Drinking, Underage_Sex, Oral_Sex, Anal_Sex, Prostitution
  Collections:
      Porn_Battle_XV_(The_Ides_of_Porn)
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-02-16 Words: 1914
****** Let Baser Things Devise ******
by recrudescence
Summary
     Maybe he overdid it on the tequila at that club, but Danny’s pretty
     sure this isn’t just another dream about someone going through his
     stuff.
Notes
     Written for Porn Battle XV. Prompts: loft, honest.
Danny wakes up chilly. It isn’t entirely out of the ordinary, since he has a
tendency to kick off the covers in the night, but this is definitely more of a
“Jesus fuck, the heat is way too low in my room” kind of chilly and less of a
“let me just drag the covers off the floor and go back to sleep” chilly.
Also, he’s naked and this isn’t his room.
He didn’t get a very good look at the place last night, between drunken kisses
and falling against the stupidly heavy door (and then finally heaving it open
and stumbling through with his laughs resonating off the rafters and his hands
trying to fumble their way down the front of the other guy’s jeggings) but now
that he’s cracking his eyes open he realizes it’s big. It’s a cavernous loft
with spikes and spirals of graffiti covering the walls and there are canvases
propped everywhere. When he cranes his neck, he notices the arching wall behind
the bed is all windows--grimy enough that no one could see in even if they
wanted to, thank god--and no curtains. No fucking wonder it’s freezing.
Danny’s never been to Toronto before. His brother invited him up for spring
break and made him promise not to commit any felonies, which Danny thinks he’s
managed so far. He should probably text him to check in before Steven tracks
his phone or something ridiculous, but that means getting up and figuring out
where the hell his phone got to. Also pants, pants are pretty important.
When he sits up, he sees the guy from last night perched on the edge of the bed
cheerfully going through what appears to be every last pocket on Danny’s
jacket.
Maybe he overdid it on the tequila at that club, but Danny’s pretty sure this
isn’t just another dream about someone going through his stuff. Still, he has
to make sure. “Hey, am I having a dream right now or are you really going
through my stuff?”
“Oh, definitely the first one,” the guy says airily, and goes right on riffling
through his things.
He’s got an accent, Danny remembers that much from last night, and a plush pink
mouth that looks wicked and sweet even when it’s thinned into a smirk, he
remembers that too. There’s a steaming mug in one of his hands and he’s wearing
a silky looking bathrobe that Lydia Martin would probably covet if she saw it.
The other hand is pulling Danny’s wallet out of his discarded jeans.
“You’re totally going through my stuff.”
“Only as a precaution.” His mouth softens into a smile. “It’s dangerous to go
home with large muscular men whom you’ve only just met. What if you’d been
someone dangerous? Undercover cop? Connected with the mob? You know, the
usual.”
He takes a sip from his mug, then sets it aside to give Danny’s wallet his full
attention. Danny winces. “Listen, um, I’m not connected, you don’t need to--”
“You don’t even remember my name, do you? It’s Felix.”
Danny smiles, abashed. “Thanks.”
“God, those fucking dimples.” Felix sounds almost offended. “None of those
here, they always make you look all poker-faced for your driver’s license.” He
squints. “Of course, the really interesting thing is that you’ve got two
driver’s licenses.”
Danny makes a desperate grab for his wallet, but no luck.
Felix’s face does its best impression of the tragedian's mask mounted on one of
the far walls. “Oh my god. Oh. My. God. I did not seriously pick up a child.”
“Technically, age of consent is sixteen. In California and Canada.”
“And technically you look about ten years older than that.” Felix gapes at him,
then whips out Danny’s student ID alongside his actual license and compares the
birth dates. “Seventeen, are you fucking serious? What the hell do they have in
the water over in Bacon Hills?”
“Beacon,” Danny corrects mildly. “And I had a great time, by the way, or are we
not having that talk?”
“Better that than a number of other talks we could be having.” Felix primly
tucks everything back into Danny’s jeans and turns to face him, a grin tugging
at the corners of his mouth. “No, are you sure the fake ID isn’t your real one?
Because if high school boys looked like this back when I was one of them, I
might’ve actually stuck with it.”
He’s already drawing the sheet away from Danny’s lap, long fingers trailing
their way up his chest until he shivers. “Poor thing, you look cold.”
That’s all it takes for Danny’s hands to settle on his hips, rucking up the
slippery fabric and making Felix flash a grin at him before ducking in closer.
“Let’s fix that,” he murmurs against Danny’s ear. “Are you a tea drinker?
You’re more than welcome to have a cup, or…” he pulls the belt of his robe
until it falls open, “we could work on warming you up a little more
creatively.”
Danny threads his fingers through the silky thickness of his hair, catching
Felix’s parted mouth just after he speaks. “Yeah, that--let’s do that.”
And it’s like the night before all over again, minus the tequila but still
intoxicating as hell. The robe slips off Felix’s shoulders and he bears Danny
back down into the blankets, warm and lithe and tasting like strong black tea,
one slim hand expertly wrapping itself around his cock. He arches like a cat,
sighing so nicely when Danny palms his ass, then does something with his hips
that makes Danny’s vision go starry.
Felix has a shameless mouth, working it over Danny’s chest and belly and going
down on him slow and deep like he’s loving every second, humming and heavy-
eyed. Danny gets lost in the slant of his lashes against his cheeks, the way he
groans long and low when Danny’s nails bite into his scalp, the glow in his
cheeks when Danny has to beg him to stop because he doesn’t want to lose it so
soon.
He also likes being manhandled, which is fine with Danny. He’s not getting in
any gym time while he’s here, so a little improvisational cardio doesn’t come
amiss and getting to hear Felix practically shriek with laughter when he flips
them over is just icing on the cake.
“God, you’re sweet,” Felix mumbles against his lips. “I won’t even charge you
for this.”
Danny suddenly regrets the thought he had a minute ago about Felix sucking dick
like he’s being paid for it. “Charge...oh.”
“Don’t look so innocent now, a starving artist needs to make ends meet. How
does a nice American schoolboy end up here, anyway?”
Danny can’t even object to being called a schoolboy at this point. “I’m staying
with my brother for a few days.”
“Mmm, a brother. Very interesting. Does he have the dimples too?” And he kisses
each one, taking Danny’s hand and deftly slicking his fingers because
apparently Felix is also a magician and can make lube appear out of nowhere.
“Yeah. Also a boyfriend.”
“Oh.” Felix looks frighteningly intrigued.
“And a girlfriend,” Danny adds. “He’s not really into labels.” Coming out of
the closet was a breeze after Steven blew open all those doors and more before
him.
“Sounds like he went to OCAD,” says Felix, and his eyes shutter when Danny
slowly presses a finger inside him. “Fuck, that’s good, give me another.”
And he does, pressing a fervent kiss to Felix’s hip and having to bury his face
against it when Felix lets out a moan that sends a rush of precome spilling
down the length of Danny’s cock. In the back of his mind he’s wondering if this
is just an act, part of the business, but it all seems real enough and Felix
already promised not to charge him, so why bother with theatrics?
Fuck, he’s going to have to tell his brother something else happened last
night, something not “so I went home with a guy who turned out to be a rentboy
and it was amazing.”
By the time Felix is slapping a condom into his hand, Danny is in serious
danger of coming just from touching himself trying to get the damn thing on,
and wouldn’t that make him seem every bit his actual age. Felix gives him a
minute to get his bearings before drawing him down, spreading his thighs and
guiding Danny into him nice and slow. Danny has his eyes squeezed shut and he
can’t get enough air into his lungs and Felix is just calmly stroking all over
his back and shoulders with his free hand, whispering soft and hot against his
ear. “Yeah, fuck, come on, there’s a good boy, just like that.”
Danny’s always looked pretty mature for his age and he’s definitely never been
called a good boy by anyone he’s fucking, so he’s not expecting those two
little words to make him shudder and swear. Felix seems positively delighted,
pulling him close with those long deft hands and laughing breathlessly into his
ear. “That’s it, sweetheart, show me you know what you’re doing, hm?” His eyes
are wide and black with arousal, lips still red from sucking him, and Danny
doesn’t even have the presence of mind to kiss him no matter how badly he wants
to, not with his pulse hammering away in his temples and his hips jolting every
time Felix’s voice licks its way over him.
“I--” he stutters, “I don’t think--”
“Good,” Felix purrs, and clenches around him even tighter when he guides
Danny’s hand to his dick. “That’s my good boy.”
It’s all over embarrassingly fast from there and Danny’s too busy whimpering
into Felix’s shoulder to mind.
“Sorry,” he says, once he realizes he should probably be doing something
besides spooning Felix like it’s his life calling. “I didn’t...I mean, I don’t-
-”
“Oh, I don’t either. But I like you.” He’s petting Danny’s hair like he’s a
kitten or something and Danny seriously could not care less. “If you smoke,
feel free, but I’m not bloody moving.”
“Same,” Danny mumbles. He’s starting to think he could live quite comfortably
in Felix’s loft, shitty heating and bizarre artwork and all. “So...starving
artist?” He can only see so many of the portraits from the bedroom nook, but
he’s noticing a theme. “Are these all different versions of the same person?”
“Yeah, my foster sister and her alter egos, you might say.”
“Alter egos?”
“It’s a long story, full of mad things, you’d never believe it.”
“I might. Things can get pretty crazy where I’m from too.”
“Do tell.”
“Oh,” Danny says, “murders, animal attacks, epidemics of mistletoe poisoning,
stuff like that. I was also seeing this guy for a little while but then he and
his twin brother just, like, disappeared for a over two weeks and showed up
like nothing had even happened. Just weird.”
Felix gives a shudder. “Trust me on this one: twins are trouble and you should
count yourself lucky for being able to move on. Did you want that tea now?”
Danny knows a segue when he hears one and he seriously needs to text his
brother, but he’s not in any hurry to let Felix out of bed just yet either. He
loops an arm around Felix’s waist, relishing the way he wriggles when Danny
noses against the dark hair behind his ear. “Tea can wait.”
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