Russia, during 48 Hours
Daniel doesn't even try to sleep. He has a shit, a shave, and a shower and that uses up forty minutes. All the caffeine is making him jittery and thoughts skate over his mind faster than he can chase them down. And that's fine. Daniel doesn't want to stop and think any deeper than these negotiations. Not right now.
Still more than three hours left in the break. He tries to read but the words just lie on the page, still black shapes like dead insects. He slams the book down and sits staring at the wall for a few minutes. Then he goes down the hall to Paul's room and opens the door without knocking.
Paul is sitting on the floor, leaning back against the bed. His feet and chest are bare and he's watching Star Trek dubbed in Russian. Daniel sits down next to him and they take turns translating the lines out loud.
"How long will it take in order to find the trouble?"
"I can't give an opinion, sir."
"We are unable to leave those four people downward there."
"Downward?" Paul says.
"I'm just translating what I hear," Daniel says. "Not what I ought to hear."
Paul laughs at that and there's a commercial. Daniel wonders what the Russians think of them. Who's listening to them right now and what notes are going into their dossiers. Daniel doesn't even like Star Trek.
Maybe they're being watched as well. Paul will know. "Did you bring your camera along?" he asks and does a complex thing with his eyebrows so Paul will understand him.
The corner of Paul's mouth twitches. "No," he says. "No camera." He wiggles his eyebrows and Daniel wonders if he looked that silly when he did it. "I don't think there'll be time for sight-seeing." Paul gets up and finds Perrier for each of them and a bottle of vodka that he sets on top of the television. They stare at it, but neither makes a move to open it.
Paul sits down and he's closer to Daniel than before. His shoulder brushes Daniel's as he drinks and after a minute, he shifts so that his calf lies alongside Daniel's.
Daniel notices this, but somehow he doesn't realise that Paul is coming on to him until Paul squeezes his leg. Even in this state, that's something Daniel can't miss.
Daniel has never felt so far away from home as he does now, sitting in this small room in Russia with Paul's hand on his thigh. So far away, anything could happen and it wouldn't matter when he got home.
And there's still a lot of time to kill.
Daniel leans forward and turns up the volume on the television. He takes off his glasses and puts them down next the vodka. Then he sits back down and looks at Paul. Everything is softer without his glasses; the mole on Paul's cheek is a blur and his eyes are very dark.
It's just as well they can't talk because there's really nothing to say. Now they just have to get the point where they can't think either.
Paul kneels in front of Daniel, straddling his legs, and kisses him. He takes Daniel's face in his hands and one palm is wet from condensation. Paul kisses slowly, carefully, like it's the only thing on his mind. His lips are dry and soft and he's shaved too. Daniel can smell the citrus of the shaving cream.
That's not quite how it should be, so far from home, so Daniel opens his mouth wide and kisses deep and messy, sliding his hands up Paul's bare chest and rubbing his thumbs over Paul's nipples. Paul shivers and Daniel pushes his tongue past Paul's lips.
When they pull apart, a rope of saliva stretches out between them, thinning until it finally breaks. Paul wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. "Trunsportyo'rr vsyo eschyo' ne rabo'tayet," says Captain Kirk and Daniel pulls off his shirt.
Now they're on the bed. The covers are pulled back and the sheets are white and stiff. They kiss some more and Daniel rolls on top of Paul. He likes the feeling of a body underneath him, moving against him and keeping him warm. Paul grabs Daniel's ass and pushes them closer still. There's no room in Daniel's head for thought now, no room in his chest for emotion.
They slither out of the rest of their clothing. Paul's skin is pale and his hair is dark. Daniel likes the soft rasp of hair against his palms and he touches Paul's arms, his legs, his belly. Paul's eyes are open, staring at Daniel, and he catches Daniel's face for another kiss.
Either Paul is a boy scout or he was planning to get lucky, because he's got K-Y and latex in abundant quantities. He takes a dental dam and pushes Daniel's legs back and rims Daniel as he squirms. This is only the second time anyone's done that to Daniel and the first time, he was pretty drunk. He's forgotten how many nerve endings there are around the asshole. It's too much, too much stimulation and Daniel wants to push Paul away, but he has to concentrate on staying silent. The klaxons are ringing, but they won't cover the noises Daniel wants to make.
At last Paul lets him go. Daniel's legs are cramping. Paul kisses the side of Daniel's neck, his face, the corner of his mouth. "Can I?" Paul whispers in Daniel's ear and Daniel nods.
They slide from bad position to better position and end up spooned together with Paul's arm around Daniel's chest. Daniel thinks they are like puzzle pieces that almost fit together, blue sky and blue water, not quite matching. Paul fucks Daniel with long, slow strokes and Daniel wraps his hand around his own stiff cock.
Daniel's leg is up and it's cramping again before Paul jerks his hips and comes. His breath hisses out into Daniel's ear and his arm tightens around Daniel's ribs.
Paul lies there for a moment, not even breathing, then he slips out of Daniel and goes to flush the condom. Daniel starts to finish himself, but Paul takes another condom and sucks Daniel off. Paul's good at giving head, no surprise there, and Daniel tries to hold back so he can enjoy it longer. But he comes sooner than he means to, eyes shut so tight he sees stars.
Paul takes this condom too and Daniel thinks that this whole sexual exercise is a prophylactic for them both, to insulate them from the thoughts they don't want to entertain. He lies back on the bed and stares at the ceiling. Star Trek is over; there's a situation comedy on now and Daniel's Russian doesn't extend to the word-play that's going on. Or maybe it's just not funny.
He's wondering if he should say something now, something light to break the tension, or maybe just, "Thank you." They can watch some more bad TV and maybe eat something and then the four hours will be done and they can get back to business.
Paul comes back to the bed and stretches out next to Daniel. He puts his arm around Daniel's waist and kisses his mouth, sweet and slow like honey dripping from a spoon. He runs his fingers through Daniel's hair and strokes his face and whispers something so low Daniel can't hear it. Daniel lies still and listens to his heart beating in his ears. He's still far away from home. He doesn't know where Paul is, but it's somewhere that Daniel can't follow and that's one more thing to push down deep inside of him, where he doesn't have to think about it now.
He puts his hand on Paul's arm and squeezes it gently. Then Daniel gets up and pulls his clothes on and goes back to his room to take another shower.