Try Me

Jan. 28th, 2010 07:40 pm
[personal profile] brancher
Title: Try Me
Fandom: Watchmen, duh
Pairing: Dan/Laurie
Summary: Finding the right person is important. Fits into Triageverse, where Laurie leaves Jon a bit earlier than canon to go live on her own in NYC.

Some notes on the sexual history of Daniel Dreiberg:

Before he was 30, his sole homosexual experience consisted of a hand job from the captain of the Math League, who called him a faggot afterwards.

His experience with women was more varied, but not much more successful. DiDi Bluth was the first girl he went to bed with, his first semester at Harvard -- the first girl who put his penis in her mouth. Dan liked that at first, but after a few times it became hollow somehow.

It was as if there was a layer of plastic between them, and so he closed his eyes as they kissed and thought about Nite Owl, the way he did sometimes when he was alone with his right hand. That helped, that was good, and as he fumbled with her bra he pictured himself untying her, a hostage. She'd be so grateful, rescued at the point of being ravished by ... by ... it didn't matter, except that she had been tied naked and he was the one to set her free. He pictured the knots, how the rope would bite into her skin. Thought of how that would feel on his own flesh, tied so tight, unable to move, defenseless, and moaned into her jasmine-scented neck.

Afterwards, she looked into his eyes and told him that she'd never felt so close to anyone before. In his stomach, Dan felt how deeply he had cheated her.

Still, he'd never had a girlfriend, and it seemed like something not to be squandered. A month later they were curled under her polka-dot quilt when he murmured experimentally, "I've been bad."

"Oh, really? A bad boy? Maybe you need a spanking, bad boy," she said, as he had hoped she would, but then she turned him over and swatted playfully at his tush, giggling.

"You're so funny," she said, cuddling up to him after.

He waited until she left for class the next morning, then left her a note: he regretted that it wasn't working out between them. It wasn't her, it was him. He never saw her again.

The next semester Julia Caldwell, black-haired and Protestant, pushed him down on her bed and straddled him. That was good; but when she unzipped his fly and started to lap tentatively at his cock, asking him, "Do you like that? Is that all right?" Dan felt himself start to flag.

"Am I doing something wrong?" she asked later. And still later: "I just wish I could make it good for you."

That summer he rented a flat in the Fens and spent his time reading up on flight mechanics; Annette Lichtmann was working as a librarian's aide at the BPL. She was smart, maybe as smart as he was, and when they finally wound up on his couch on a hot August night he felt brave enough to ask her, "Do you ever ... have you ever thought about, like, wearing a mask? or you know, getting, um, getting tied up?"

When she saw he was serious, she slapped him, got dressed, and left.

The worst, though, was Nina Lasky, who nodded and whispered "yes," when he showed her the rope, and consented to tie it around his wrists, who squeezed her fingers around the base of his throat as she put her other hand down his pants. That was as far as it went, and he was ecstatic, but then she didn't return any of his phone calls, and he started to get dirty looks from her girlfriends.

He didn't date any more after that.

So he graduated still mostly a virgin, and stayed that way until Leslie sank her hooks into him. He drowned in her until they couldn't sustain it anymore, until she pushed him too far with her business endeavors. "No hard feelings, Danny," she said as the police patted her down, and he didn't know if it was a mean joke or an absolution. There was nothing again after that, not for years; nothing but a few abortive trips to S/M clubs, nothing but few dinner dates that ended at the door, nothing but the perpetual frustrated intimacy of his partnership with Rorschach.

Nothing until Laurie narrowed her eyes at him consideringly and lifted his glasses from the bridge of his nose; until she bit his neck and rode him hard on her horrible foldaway bed in her horrible coldwater flat. "I'm kind of ... different," he told her later, trying to warn her, and she just grinned and said, "I spent five years with a guy who doesn't wear clothes, Dreiberg. Try me."


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