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hyperfixated-gvf · 2 years

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No Homo

(This is actually a fic, there’s just a long intro!!)

Hi everyone, this is a break from our regular programming to advertise the slash server on Discord (https://discord.gg/Ef4WXpRBUT) where all of us who like GVF slash pairings (aka, Danny x any Kiszka) gather round to talk and share ideas and fics. A lot of the ideas are dirty, so the server is 18+ and there is no incest nor speculation of real life. We just like the fictional pairings.

Anyways, we're trying to get the interaction and engagement up, and more people makes more opportunities for conversation to spark! This is an open community - we talk about more than slash, but it's a place where it is accepted commonplace and you can definitely find more content for your favorite Danny x Kiska pairing.

Even if you've never participated in a Discord server before, we'd love for you to check it out if you're interested! Our little community is very kind, supportive, and open-minded. If you're not interested, that's fine as well! And if you think Danny x Kiszka fanfiction is gross or wrong, well - 1) that's a conversation for another time and 2) we can just leave each in peace!

If you'd like to join but don't know how, simply copy and paste that link from above into the Discord app - it'll tell you how to join once you download it - wave hello, fill out an intro, and start participating!

Not sure if slash fic is your thing (and this fandom has a surprising lack of it, so I don't blame you)? Well, here's a fic you can use as a exploration! A friends to lovers trope - fluff and smut, but not all-the-way smut! Without further ado, 'No Homo' has been published on my AO3 account for about a week now, so I figured it was time I post it here, too. Enjoy! (And also, if you want to be on my slash taglist, as always, shoot me a message/ask/request form and make sure you specify it's for the slash taglist!)

...

Summary: 5 times Sam and Danny kissed platonically and 1 time they didn't.

Warnings: Language, masturbation, mentions of certain rumors during a fight, voyeurism

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner

Words: 8.9k

Disclaimer: This is not speculation. This is fiction. Please keep in mind that these are characters that I write, not the real people.

...

The low rumble of wheels on asphalt was strange.

Not strange as in unusual – they’d been touring long enough now that it integrated seamlessly into their dreams and conversation and their music and the TV – but strange as in…weird. At least, for Sam, it was. It acted as a heavy lull, pulling him into a state of tonic immobility while also stirring up all the manic energy he had pent up in his body.

And that feeling was what made it strange.

So, lounging on the couch in the common area at what his phone said was 3 am but his body wasn’t sure of, one foot bouncing on the vibrating floor and the other propped up on the other stiff couch-arm, he felt like falling asleep and squirming right out of his skin at the same time.

His eyes flicked to the bunk-area entrance when a lanky figure appeared in the frame. Danny had his eyes shut as he reached up in a stretch, fingertips brushing the top of the bus. But when he blearily blinked them open afterwards, his gaze immediately fell on Sam and he smiled, moving sleepily over towards him.

“Hey, what are you doing up?”

Sam huffed, partly in amusement and partly due to frustration. “Feel like I’m about to throw myself off this bus if we don’t stop soon.” Not to mention that he still felt jetlagged from the first flight - not quite over it after playing a show and then loading onto the bus.

Danny cocked his head and then walked the short ways to the driver’s seat, exchanging quiet words, and then turned back towards Sam. “He said that it’s still another couple hours until we’re gonna need gas,” he relayed apologetically, and Sam sighed.

He knew this was going to be the worst of the tour – right at the beginning, when he wasn’t used to being cooped up; not to mention that venues out West were always further away from each other than on the East Coast. But still, it sucked.

Sam rolled his head toward Danny and lazily reached an arm out to him. Danny knew it was his summons, and his lips quirked up in a soft, amused smile, but he went to Sam all the same. “Yes?” he asked once he was perched on the edge of the couch by Sam’s tummy, Sam having scooted his skinny body to the side to make room for him.

Sam didn’t answer – he didn’t have to. Once he tugged Danny’s arm towards his head, Danny leaned down voluntarily, letting Sam crane his head up to meet his lips halfway. Sam hummed into the kiss, slowly moving his mouth in a dance both he and Danny knew well.

This, though - this wasn’t strange at all.

Sometimes they kissed – out of affection and awe and boredom and platonic love. Neither of them thought much of it – nor did Jake and Josh, who knew that it happened at times – and neither of them really cared to. It just was .

And they were aware that maybe it was weird neither of them claimed to have anything going on with the other, considering they’d kissed on multiple occasions. That it was weird neither of them felt the need to examine the interactions. That two straight guys who kissed usually weren’t considered straight (except sexuality was another one of those things that they’d both rejected labels to, so whether they were straight or not was rather a nonfactor), even if they’d never done anything more than given a couple of closed-mouth kisses when they felt the desire to do so.

To each other, it was home. It was comfort. It was an anchor in their constantly moving world.

So yeah, sometimes they kissed when it was what they needed.

Sam pulled away, foot having stopped tapping finally when his mind wandered off the concept of the strange feeling, and he grinned, a twinkle in his eye. “No homo, bro, right?”

Some people might become tired of the same joke, repeated time after time after time, but Sam and Danny - in this particular situation - were not those people. Every time they kissed, without fail - and they blamed the humor they grew up on and the environment they participated in - it manifested in grins and teases and laughs and mocking tones.

Danny snickered, poking Sam in the stomach. “Yeah, no homo.”

…

The chaos of post-show was something else.

Invigorating, tumultuous, exhausting, adrenaline-extending, fun, stressful – it had it all. And with the high still lingering from the show, emotions were often running volatile and it was easy to get overwhelmed. And in the madness, it was also easy to get lost.

Sometimes on purpose, other times, not.

Sam could have sworn Danny had been right behind him – he was always right behind him on stage exit. That’s just the way it was. So, when he turned around to make a comment about how incredible he’d sounded during the show once they neared the green room and found only a gap between Josh and himself, he was appropriately surprised.

“Hey,” he said, eyebrows furrowed as he nudged Josh when he got close enough, “did you see where Danny went off to?”

Josh opened his mouth to answer but stopped, looking around comically. “Uhh…no. I thought he was right here. I wasn’t paying attention, though.”

Sam rolled his eyes, slipping past him to find where his best friend had dropped off. Any other night, Sam would have let him be – they were all big boys, they could do what they wanted, and lord knew they spent enough time with each other that none of them missed the others at any particular point in their day.

But Danny had been shooting him a look during the last song, and Sam wondered if he was just imagining it or if Danny was trying to tell him something. He retraced their steps, scratching his head when the crowd of venue workers got thicker and the lingering shout of the crowd got louder – he was nearing stage exit, but where was Danny?

He turned to head back towards the dressing rooms and started laughing when he caught sight of Danny’s crooked smile and fluffy hair peeking out of a bathroom door about 10 feet down the hallway.

“Are you hiding from me?” Sam asked with a smile on his face, and Danny’s soft, chuffed amusement was only heard once he was within distance.

“Pfft, no,” Danny scoffed playfully. “It’s not my fault no one in this band is aware of their surroundings at any given moment.” He sighed, exaggeratedly sniffling and wiping a fake tear away from his eye. “I see how much I mean to you guys.”

Sam stuck his tongue out, but as Danny opened the door so that Sam could step into the room, he walked in, wrinkling his nose when the bathroom smell hit him. “Bleh,” he gagged, “why the fuck didn’t you piss back in the green room? At least they clean that one.”

Danny shrugged. “I really had to go. I was about to go back to the rooms when you came looking for me.”

Sam reached for the doorknob, eager to get out of the stage bathroom – too many accounts of rushed, misplaced, mid-show streams to really rid the smell, no matter how many times Sam was sure the venue had tried. “Well, what were you trying to—”

“Hey, no homo, but—“ Danny cut him off, stepping into his space and cupping his face with one hand. His lips gently pressed against Sam’s in a series of short kisses and Sam smiled. He’d wanted to tell Danny how great he’d been, wanted to ask what he’d been trying to tell him, but, well, this would work.

…

The weird thing about touring – about being in a band with your brothers and your best friends and being in such close contact so many days out of the year was that distance and space lost its meaning until it was there.

And even then, it was such a reprieve that the concept of missing each other wasn’t even considered until Sam looked over to make a dirty joke about an ad on one of his social media pages to one of them once they’d arranged to meet back up and found only emptiness in the backseat of the car.

(Sam always said that he liked the backseat because he saw his brothers as his personal chauffeurs, but in all actuality, he just knew they preferred sitting where they could hear the other.)

The break had been necessary, though.

Jake’s callouses could only help his fingers so much – much the same with Danny’s and Sam’s. And Josh’s vocal cords needed rest like no other with his range and the nature of their songs.

So they’d all gone their separate ways – as separate as they could with their proximity to each others’ homes and their familial bonds. And Sam did miss them, but he’d been so preoccupied doing his own thing that it didn’t really hit him until Josh had grinned his toothy grin at him from the car’s window and told him that Jake was next, and after making it to the airport, they had a little Kiszka reunion there in the car.

But they each felt the absence of their other member – which is why the cheer was just that much louder when Danny threw himself sideways through the door and into the seats, knocking Sam into the window with an oof while they cackled together.

Sam felt like his smile might never go away. This was where they belonged.

Danny turned his head to glance at Sam from where he’d been tuned into the conversation up into the front, saying something to Jake, and smiled in a way that scrunched his nose up. There was nothing Sam could do except lurch towards him to press a peck to his smile.

The twins were already engrossed in another conversation with each other, and when Danny leaned back in to respond with a peck of his own, Sam pulled back to find Jake turned around in his seat, waiting to say something. Except when Sam stared at him, perhaps with too much an expression of expectation, he scoffed.

“What? You can platonically kiss Danny all you want, but don’t expect me to pucker up.”

Sam made a gagging noise, pushing Jake’s cheek away from him. “I’ll stick to giving you wet willies, actually.” As quickly as he could, he drenched his finger in saliva and fought with Jake around the headrest to get to his ear, but ultimately failed, wiping his hand on his shorts.

Danny sighed dramatically, and Sam turned to see what he was doing. “Jakey, did you want a kiss too? Is that why you said something?”

He made fish lips and leaned across Sam to get to where Jake was turned around, goofy smile in place. “Oh, Danny – how’d you know?” he exclaimed in a theatrical accent, pushing against his seatbelt to reach.

“Wait, wait!” Sam interjected suddenly. “Is this still no homo, Danny? You’re not trying to steal Jake away from Jita, are you?”

Danny nodded with a pfft. “Oh no it’s super homo - Jake, you wanna fuck?”

“Come and get me, big boy,” Jake faux-flirted, making Danny put his lips to Jake’s with an exaggerated MWAH noise, and Jake just as quickly wiped his mouth with a grin as Josh yelled, “I’M THE ONLY ONE ALLOWED TO CANOODLE IN THE JUCK!” while the other three laughed.

…

Growing up with the Kiszkas, Danny knew that as long as he was in the band and/or their friend – aka, hopefully for a very, very long while – he’d always be the mediator. He didn’t resent this fact, but sometimes it did test his patience. They tested his patience.

Which was exactly Sam’s intention as he planted his bass on its stand and whipped around to confront Danny. “Damnit, Danny – you can’t just walk away when you get angry!” Sam snapped, and Danny paused on his way out of the studio, the sound guy having taken a very strategic break. And Danny was grateful for it – no one needed to see them like this.

He turned around, grinding his teeth in a way that would have his dentist cringing. Jake and Josh stood off to the sides, Jake sulking and Josh pouting – tensions were running high, for sure. “Actually, Sam,” he started off in a patronizing tone that had Sam rolling his eyes, “that’s what adults do. I wouldn’t expect any of you to understand that because apparently nothing can be fucking solved without you costing us hundreds of fucking dollars in damages!”

Still worked up from the previous argument that had put them all in this boiling pot of volatile emotions, Sam snatched Danny’s drumsticks off his set and chucked one of them in Danny’s direction. It thwacked right into his stomach and Danny brought his leg up to protect his groin once he realized the projectile was heading in that direction. Having his own stuff thrown at him had Danny’s temper flaring and he narrowed his eyes, seriously contemplating giving into his baser instincts for once.

“And it comes out of my paycheck, so why the fuck do you care? No one asked you to be our fucking mother when we fight!” Sam eyed Danny from where he was standing, anger and frustration driving his words instead of actual logic. “You do this all the time – you try to fix things and then get angry when you do. Oh, poor, poor Danny – fuck your self-pity and fuck you.”

Contemplation became fruition.

Danny picked the drumstick up from where it had fallen and batted its twin away when Sam threw it at him, too; mostly in defense once he realized Danny was coming back for him instead of letting it go. Sam tried to escape behind the drum kit, but Danny chased him around the studio, the entertainment making the twins forget their woes in favor of watching the interaction in amused fascination.

Danny finally caught the edge of Sam’s shirt and pulled him back, landing a solid hit with the stick in his hand to Sam’s back. Even at his yelp – which normally, if Danny were involved in the roughhousing or on the rare occasion he turned to physicality during arguments, would be where he took a step back – Danny kept beating Sam wherever he could reach. But with Sam struggling as he was, quickly drawing Danny into a mini wrestling match to escape the drumstick, really wasn’t a whole lot – just a couple hits on his arms and chest (although one did graze his cheek).

The twins eventually stepped in and pulled Danny off their little brother, and the curses and insults that had been thrown in the heat of the altercation shifted into weapons instead of just words.

“If I wasn’t here, you guys wouldn’t be either!” Danny spit. “And if I didn’t care as much as I do, I would have left and formed my own band by now because you guys are fucking insufferable sometimes!”

Sam rubbed at a red welt that would almost certainly form a bruise within the next day. “I’d like to see you make it without us, you pretentious bastard, you’d have been too fucking scared to leave your parents’ house if it weren’t for us!” he shot back. And internally, Danny knew Sam was speaking from a place of exhaustion and frustration and burn-out, but the sentiment still hurt.

So he tried to hurt him back. “At least I don’t have rumors about—”

“Oh, fuck you! Out of us all, you’re the one who—”

“Not about being emotionally abusive,” Danny interrupted spitefully, and Sam reeled back, hiding his hurt behind a sarcastic laugh.

“Fuck you, dude.”

And then Sam was the one to turn and leave, jerking his arm out of Josh’s grip. And even though Danny felt like Sam kinda deserved it, he’d started cooling off after he’d been brought back to Earth by Sam’s betrayed expression. The continued emotional attacks on both of their sides were unnecessary, and Danny, being a tad more level-headed, realized that he’d poked at a raw wound.

“Sam,” he tried, taking a couple of long strides to catch up to Sam at the door and catching him gently by the sleeve, “hey I—”

“Let me go.”

Sam had closed himself off, both his expression and his tone deadpanned. He refused to look at Danny, and a flair of resistance born of pettiness and pride lit up inside of Danny’s chest - if Sam wanted to be like this, then that was Sam’s problem.

But still, he took a deep breath and refused to let go of him. “No. I’m sorry. Sam,” he insisted, tugging at him to get him face-to-face, “I’m sorry.” Sam chewed on the inside of his cheek, and they’d fought plenty of times over the years so Danny knew that by now, Sam was cooling down as well. He sighed and wrapped him in a bear hug. “I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.”

Still a little stiff in Danny’s arms, Sam took a breath and started to relax, eventually slapping him on the back. Maybe with a little too much force, but Danny was willing to look past it. He pulled back, and Sam once again had a small smirk on his lips. “I guess I’m sorry too. But only a little bit.” After a moment, Sam sighed and met Danny’s eyes. “No homo?”

And Danny nodded, gently leaned in to give Sam a quick, light kiss, and when he pulled away, Sam was smiling once again.

“No homo.”

They turned back towards the twins and their instruments, Danny scouring the room for his sticks again, and the twins just shook their heads.

“Your fights are the weirdest ever.”

…

Danny had been lying in his bunk for the past four hours and forty eight minutes – Sam had been keeping track.

They’d stopped for gas about three hours ago, and Danny hadn’t even come off the bus. Then about an hour ago, he’d stepped in to ask if he wanted to watch “School of Rock” with them in the common area, and he’d given a soft, “No, thanks.”

So now, halfway through the movie, Sam slipped back to the bunk area, softly knocking on the wooden post outside Danny’s closed curtain.

Sam only barely heard the hum that came from inside the bunk, but he took it as permission to draw the curtain back, revealing Danny lying rather listlessly in his bunk. He didn’t look at Sam when Sam crawled into the small space with him, but he did shift over so that Sam could octopus-wrap himself around his best friend.

“What’s a matta, Daniel Wagna?”

Sam hoped that a humorous opening would crack a smile. But Danny just shrugged and swallowed harshly, refusing to meet Sam’s gaze, and Sam furrowed his brows because that sounded like he was holding back tears. He propped himself up and forced Danny’s face to his, even as Danny pushed him away.

“Stop, Sam. I’m fine.” But even as he said it, his voice sounded rough and he was forced to clear his throat.

Needless to say, it wasn’t a very convincing statement, and Sam frowned. “No, you’re not.” If Danny didn’t want to tell him anything, then he wouldn’t - Sam knew he was good at keeping things in - but that didn’t mean Sam couldn’t get it out of him eventually. “But I guess if you don’t want to tell me…” And then he snuggled further into Danny, accepting his silence but not his pursuit to exacerbate whatever he was feeling with loneliness.

They both stayed there, stubborn to the blood and bone that their bodies were made of – except it was a different kind of stubborn.

Sam wasn’t about to object and say that he wasn’t being outright defiant. Danny had said he was fine, and if it were someone else, Sam might let it slide. But not Danny.

And Danny wasn’t really trying to be stubborn - it was just Sam’s perception and reaction to not getting what he wanted out of him. But Danny didn’t feel the need to rectify Sam’s skewed desires to know every single thing that was going on inside his brain at every single moment he thought to ask.

So that was that, and they laid in the relative darkness of the curtain, listening closely to the sounds of Jack Black and a bunch of kids playing instruments coming from the common area in silence.

Eventually, when Danny’s stomach rumbled and growled, he nudged Sam, not knowing if he’d drifted off or not. “Hey, I’m going to go grab a snack, you’re gonna have to move.”

“No.”

Danny stilled for a moment - debating if he was hungry enough to deal with Sam or if he wanted to waste away. His stomach grumbled at him again and decided for him.

He tried to pry Sam away first – arms and legs and torso and even those fucking long-ass toes – but couldn’t keep up with Sam’s gorilla grip and pure will to stick to him. “Sam,” Danny said exasperatedly, “I’ll be right back.”

And in some regard, Danny did feel emotionally-warmed up due to Sam’s clingy cuddling, but hangriness was a thing.

But Sam didn’t relent, gripping tighter to him. “You’ll just have to take me with you, then.”

“Fine,” Danny answered shortly. He rolled over Sam, unconcerned about the way he was crushing him (he’d given him a chance to move and Sam hadn’t taken it - it was no longer a problem for his conscience) and got up, pitching forward as Sam clambered onto his back immediately after, cursing as he bumped his head on the wooden beam of the top bunk.

Danny snickered at his misfortune, letting Sam struggle to keep his hold as he made his way to where the snacks were kept in the common area. In order to do so, they had to pass by Jake and Josh, who looked up from their movie (and phones, and guitar) with expressions that weren’t at all surprised, but curious.

“...No homo?” Josh ventured good-naturedly, trying to contain a smile at Danny’s grunt as he rummaged through the various food items with a grown-ass man on his back.

Danny came up with a package of crackers and then grabbed an apple from off the counter, ignoring Sam’s watchful eyes and, “Oooo, healthy boi,” comment. “No. Your brother’s just being a nosy asshole.”

Jake snorted, continuing to pluck the guitar strings in time with the movie, figuring out the chords and strum pattern as he went. “And you’re surprised?”

“Hey!”

Sam’s indignant protest was also ignored, and Danny scoffed out an, “Absolutely not,” before he made his (their) way back to his bunk, shrugging Sam off once they arrived.

It was frustrating - this closed off-ness that Danny was giving Sam. If it was something he’d done - and it wouldn’t have been the first time Sam had unintentionally pissed Danny off - he wanted to know, not be kept in this dark uncertainty that he’d accidentally made his best friend cry in his bunk.

So he climbed right back into the bunk with Danny, letting him eat his crackers before pestering again. Danny had hoped Sam would have let him be until he was all the way finished, but before he could take a bite of his apple, Sam asked, “Seriously, man, what’s going on?” Danny just continued in his bite as Sam went on. “You’ve been acting weird all day. And you haven’t left your bunk since we got the bus.”

Danny rolled his eyes and swallowed. “Yes I have.”

“Bathroom doesn’t count.”

“We literally had breakfast together at that truck stop.”

Sam paused, glaring at Danny in a way that conveyed he wasn’t happy with the avoidance and ignorance tactic he was employing, but Danny just shrugged. “I’ve just been paying a little too much attention to social media, is all. It’s nothing, honestly.”

Sam made a face, and Danny felt justified for the eye-roll he gave in return - he could deny it all he wanted, but Sam lurked on his socials just as much as the next person. “Why?”

“Well, for one - there’s not much to do on the bus at any given time and social media is an easy fix. Two, I think it’s a great way to get to know our fans and interact and everything. Three–”

“Okay, I wasn’t actually asking for a comprehensive list, dumbass.”

Danny snorted and took another bite of his apple. “You should work on your bedside manner. This is the worst comfort I’ve ever received.”

But not really.

Danny did appreciate what Sam was attempting to do, and it was charming in a way that could only be seen from his perspective as Sam’s almost-lifelong best friend. This Sam was the one he knew best, and even though carefully crafted words weren’t always his strong-suit, Danny loved Sam’s specific brand of love and kindness more than anything else.

Sam flicked Danny in the arm. “Fuck bedside manner. I wanna know what made you upset.”

Because even though their publicist and manager would kill him for it, Sam would log back on to those stupid sites and heads would roll . He wasn’t completely unaware of what Danny went through. He knew that for some backwards reason, people singled him out - for not being a brother (the fuck?), for things he said as a kid (and had apologized for), for how he looked and how he acted and it was just…not great at all.

But Sam had thought Danny knew better.

Danny put his apple core on a little shelf all the bunks had. “Sammy?”

Sam blinked at the nickname. “What?” That nickname was reserved for teasing and joking and everything else, but not now.

Danny shifted around so that he could swing his leg over Sam, settling above him with a soft, amused gaze as Sam’s eyes widened.

His damn heart was about to beat out his chest and what the actual fuck.

“No homo,” Danny began with a smile, “but thanks.”

No homo, no homo, no homo, no homo no–

“Uh…you’re welcome? For what? You haven’t even told me what–”

Danny laughed and cut him off with a kiss, longer perhaps than usual, but just as simple and just as sweet.

And if Sam ended up chasing his lips as Danny pulled away, well, no one could blame Danny for letting another one soothe the frayed edges of his mind and the jagged emotions it had him feeling.

…

The hotel hallway was quiet and still - except for Sam, who was padding down the carpet, barefoot.

He stopped in front of a door and glanced at the number next to what he was 99% certain was Danny’s hotel room, making sure he had the right one (it could only be one of their other three members, but he didn’t want to face the twins’ wrath if he accidentally let himself into one of their rooms). He’d gone down to charm an extra key out of the front desk when he’d gotten bored a good fifteen minutes ago, knowing that Danny could solve his boredom.

Could he have just knocked on Danny’s door? Of course. But where was the fun in that?

And this way, Danny couldn’t stop him.

Well, he probably could, but it would be much more difficult this way and Sam was counting on him not having the energy to wrestle him out of the room. Especially now that it was nearing midnight – which, on any given night for them wouldn’t really be considered late. But in a hotel, with a bed and a TV and privacy – well…all four boys usually turned in early to be left to their own devices.

But now Sam was bored with his own devices.

So he’d made the decision to amble down the hallway, past his own room to Danny’s and then slipped the key card in, opening the door with an affectionate disregard to the noise he made, knowing Danny would probably appreciate the announcement of his presence (once he got past the ingratitude of Sam being there at all). There were no lights on in the room, and Sam’s eyes were forced into pitch darkness once the door clicked shut, but he heard the rustling of sheets as Danny moved around on the bed.

“Hello?”

Sam suppressed a smile and stayed quiet for a second until he heard Danny move a bit more violently – assumedly toward the lamp. Sam took a few rushed, blind steps, hitting the bed with a curse before he threw himself onto it, scrambling up to tackle Danny.

“What the fu—”

Sam let his barely-contained laughter burst out, finally, pushing the still-confused Danny back down on the bed before he could finish fumbling for the lamp-switch. “You’re such a fucking dweeb!” he giggled. “'Hello?' What if I was a murderer? Did you think I was gonna answer you?” A new round of giggles escaped from Sam’s mouth and he ruffled Danny’s hair. “You need to watch more horror movies.”

Danny had recognized Sam’s laugh from the moment it’d left his lips, and he relaxed at the familiar sound, grumbling his dissent as Sam settled into the pillows next to him, mocking him for his response. “What are you doing? How did you get a key to my room? And why’d you—”

“Are we playing twenty questions?” Sam teased. “I got bored and used my charismatic powers of persuasion to charm an extra key outta the front desk worker.” Sam’s eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, and he saw a big, Danny-shape shifting next to him.

Shifting just a little too much.

“What were you doing?” Sam’s voice took on a shark-like quality, smelling blood and latching on to what he perceived would be an opportunity to embarrass Danny.

But instead of giving him what he wanted, Danny just refused to bleed.

“Jerking off.”

The silence that followed his answer was deafening. And then Sam’s laugh that followed the moment of silence was actually deafening.

Danny slapped his hand over to Sam’s face, groping for his mouth. “Shhhh! You’re gonna get a noise complaint called on me!”

But it only made Sam laugh harder. “What’d you expect after you say that?!” Sam pushed at Danny, and it was only then that he noticed his chest was bare. “Wait…are you naked?”

The sigh Danny let out was long-suffering and held more ire than he wanted to express in what was supposed to be a night away from the other guys. “Well, what did you expect me to say? And yes. I am naked.”

“I dunno, but not that,” Sam chuckled, still in not-quite disbelief but extraordinarily amused at the mood Danny seemed to be in.

Danny scoffed and pulled the blankets up over himself a little more. “I was supposed to be alone and I’m in a hotel, with an actual bed and what I thought was gonna be privacy, finally.” Everyone knew that a private wank was so much better than the quiet, (not so much anymore) embarrassing ones you had to make do with on the bus that everyone else just pretended not to hear. Unless one of them had a secret exhibitionism kink – but to Danny’s knowledge, none of them did. “Maybe if you’d just knocked like a normal person—”

“I refuse to be normal.”

“—then I’d have had time to pull on some pants.”

More silence. Danny struggled not to pout at the unsatisfying end to his pleasure, but for Sam, he’d suffer through it until he left. Or fell asleep – then he’d just have to do it in the bathroom.

“…Are you still hard?”

Should it have been a little weird that Danny didn’t feel at all uncomfortable in this situation or about the topic on hand? (Or out of hand, unfortunately for Danny.)

Maybe. But it was already established that they were both a little weird.

Danny snuck a hand down to palm at himself, unable to tell where he was on a scale of one to ten without feeling or seeing it, and shrugged, tensing a little bit at the pressure. “Semi. But like, on the low side. Not really. You kinda ruined it.” The devolution of statements regarding the state of his dick was humorous in some lights - Sam was just lucky Danny saw it that way.

“Sorry.” Sam actually had the mind to sound rightfully contrite about his interruption – lord knew he hated interrupted jerk-offs. “Did you wanna finish?”

Danny hoped Sam could feel the weight of his vacant stare. “What do you think, Sherlock?” Being cock-blocked from himself was not fun. Danny could appreciate kinks - edging and knowingly risking getting caught and the sort - but this was not that.

“Damn, a little touchy, are we, Daniel?” Regardless of Danny’s dry disgruntlement, Sam couldn’t help but make the joke - it was staring him in the face, and he laughed at himself, even when Danny didn’t.

“You suck.”

“Not right now, I’m not.” And he laughed at his own joke again - it was just so easy sometimes with Danny.

Danny only sighed, grateful that the darkness was hiding his small smile. He tried to settle down, pushing the small amount of lingering arousal out of his head and hoping his body would follow suit. “You literally have your own room for the first time in weeks - why aren’t you there?” Danny spoke quietly - his earlier worry of having to answer a disturbance phone call dissipated when he remembered that they were the only ones on the floor but still keeping in mind the twins and crew that surrounded them.

Sam picked at the comforter, not wanting to intrude so much as to get underneath it. “No good shows were on and I can’t sleep - my schedule’s so fucked by now I’d need a week of consistent sleep to get back on track.” He tried not to think about Danny underneath the blankets.

“And you didn’t want to…you know–” In the dark, Danny must have been bolder, because he mimed the action in the air, fist jerking up and down. Sam let out another laugh, but this one was more strained than the last.

Because fuck, there went that concept. Now Danny naked under the sheets was all Sam could think about. In all actuality, Sam had jerked himself off. To the memory of Danny hovering over him in the bunks, nonetheless, amongst other things.

And that made him want Danny’s company; so his quest for an extra key had begun.

“I did.” Sam let the statement hang in the air for a moment, taking a deep breath and trying to dispel the sudden onset of nerves that he was unused to experiencing with Danny. He wanted to…well, he wanted to do a lot of things, but what he wanted to ask Danny at this particular moment in time terrified him a bit. But still - “You can, you know.”

Danny cocked his head. “Can what?”

Sam rolled his eyes and lazily pointed in the direction of Danny’s dick, feigning indifference. “Jerk off. You can.”

“Yes, I know that, dickwad. I’m actually painfully aware of that fact.” He was playing ignorant. As soon as the words had come out of Sam’s mouth, he knew what Sam was offering. What he was suggesting. And it terrified him, too, along with the twitch of arousal he struggled to ignore for the time being. Sam stuck his tongue out at Danny, and Danny responded by wiggling the fingers of his right hand near Sam’s mouth. Satisfied when he turned away, Danny said, “After you leave I will. Again. Want me to pinky promise or something?”

That wasn’t what he really wanted. But again, fear.

“Shut up.” Sam fiddled with the blanket hem again, worried that Danny’s clarification of ‘after you leave’ was some sort of indicator that he actually didn’t want what Sam did. That Sam was just trying to convince himself that Danny said it because he wanted Sam to say it explicitly and suffer and not because Sam was crossing a boundary Danny wasn’t willing to. “Can I stay?”

There. That was as explicit as it was gonna get outside of Sam looking Danny in the face and actually saying the words, ‘hey, I wanna watch you masturbate.’

Danny swallowed audibly, shifting under the blankets again. What to do, what to say, should I be serious, should I joke back, what the fuck – “Sure. We can have a sleepover. Maybe paint each other’s nails and have pillow fights in our underwear.”

Sam tried to laugh the tension off, thinking if he did, and Danny really didn’t know what he meant and was just joking around, he’d let it lie. “Don’t be stupid, you’re making it weird.” Maybe it would have been more painless to have actually asked for what he wanted instead of dancing around each other with these weird, ambiguous riddles.

But the snort that came from Danny’s direction was violent and funny and it reset the mood between them back to their usual back-and-forth bantering and teasing. “I’m making it weird? You’re the one who’s asking to watch me fap. Voyeur.”

This was infuriating. Was that a yes? Was that a no? Should Sam be hard right now or would Danny still perceive that as inappropriate? “Are you kink-shaming me now?” he asked instead. Damn him and his inability to not use humor as a defensive mechanism.

Danny huffed quietly, contemplating his next moves carefully before deciding fuck it, and slipped his hand down underneath the blankets once again, his attempt at suppressing his erection having failed. If Sam wanted to stay and watch, he wasn’t going to ignore the dull pulse and ache coming from between his legs anymore. “No, I guess not. Just, try not to cock-block me again, alright?”

Sam lit up internally, excitement sparking through him before sinking in and adding to his arousal. He silently wet his lips, watching the dark silhouette of Danny’s hand move the blanket resting on his crotch. He could tell he was stroking himself, but not much else. Why the hell hadn’t he let Danny turn on the lamp? “Yeah, okay,” Sam whispered.

Danny moved his left hand towards Sam, and Sam was momentarily bewildered at what he wanted and what he was trying to do, but Danny never touched him. Instead, he fished around underneath the pillow Sam was reclining on and retrieved a travel-size bottle of lube, adding some to his other hand before it disappeared once more.

Sam didn’t want to break whatever thin hold on normalcy they were clinging to, so he tried not to make any noise - didn’t shift too much, didn’t breathe too loudly, didn’t even move his line of sight, trained on where the blanket was being moved up and down with Danny’s hand (although that was due more to other factors).

The bunks weren’t private. The curtains may have provided respite from prying eyes, but Sam was right above Danny’s bunk - he’d still heard Danny take his pleasure, so late at night that it was technically early. And putting this visual to it, vague and shapeless underneath the covers as it was, loosened some tightly-wound knot that existed somewhere inside Sam. It satisfied something that was feeling more and more like a necessity than a desire; like something Sam needed to be complete than something that would bring him to completion.

Danny started off slow, going about his business as usual, as if Sam wasn’t there. Except he was painfully aware of Sam’s presence. He could tell that Sam was controlling his breath and his movements, likely trying not to spook Danny. But Danny wasn’t spooked at all - in fact, this was the hardest he’d felt without other stimulation in a while. Eventually, he sped up, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as the sensations started zinging through his body, heating him up.

It was a weird sort of limbo - not hiding his expressions but being keenly cognizant of them, so as not to exaggerate them by accident. His movements drew Sam’s gaze back to his face, and emphasized or not, the expressions he gave continued adding to the puzzle Sam was getting desperate to put together.

On a particularly nice tug, Danny’s thumb caught the ridge of his tip, and he let out a soft grunt in response. Sam’s body reacted unconsciously, his own dick twitching and his hips trying to flex against the movement - trying to find contact with something to soothe the ache.

God, he wanted to touch himself so bad. He wanted Danny to touch him and he wanted to touch Danny and see Danny and taste Danny and fuck this was frustrating. He scraped his bottom lip between his teeth just to feel something, to bring the spotlight of feeling away from the way his dick throbbed and tried to demand his attention.

Danny began panting, then - soft and labored and in time with the faster pump of his hand. Sam couldn’t tell what exactly his strategy and method was when it came to jerking himself off - whether he liked to twist, how firm his grip was, if he liked his balls stroked and cradled and tugged every so often like Sam did - but he wanted to know. Even if just to compare it to his own technique (that was a lie).

Sam swallowed and made sure there was enough saliva in his mouth to where his words would actually come out and finally asked Danny, quiet enough that he could pretend that he never heard anything and that Sam never spoke if he wanted to, “Can we turn the lamp on?”

Those blackout curtains were useful for sleeping, not for peeping.

Danny never stopped stroking himself, and the idea of stopping now, right as his orgasm was building, felt exactly like the cock-blocking he’d specifically asked Sam not to do before he started. “Kinda busy. But you can if you’d like, I don’t mind. No homo and all that.”

The sentiment would have garnered a reaction from Sam - a laugh or a snort - had Sam not been busy deciding which route he would take to the lamp switch. It was an easy decision, but still - boundaries had never been established here and he and Danny had both been toeing lines since Sam broke into the room. He wasn’t scared of overstepping, though.

Well, he was, but not in a serious way. He’d be embarrassed and a little guilty, but that was the extent of the consequences - there was no threat to his and Danny’s relationship, not even in a situation like this.

So he got up on his hands and knees, closing in on Danny as Danny’s dark eyes tracked his movements all the way until Sam was right above him, hovering perpendicularly with one hand planted on the edge of the bed and the other reaching and feeling for the little twisting handle.

Once he’d found it, Sam extracted himself from the position and flopped back to his spot, taking Danny in now that he had light. Details that had been hidden in the darkness were on display for his hungry, wandering eyes - and for Danny’s too.

Danny could see just how much this was affecting Sam in the tent he made in his little shorts, in his blown pupils, in the way his mouth hung open just a little bit to get more air. He was so fucking pretty. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed before, but he wasn’t sure how seriously Sam took this ‘no homo’ gag they had running.

Apparently, not that seriously at all (which was a relief and not particularly a surprise).

There was shine to Danny’s forehead, Sam noticed, from a few small beads of sweat that dotted his hairline. Was it the same pink flush from arousal that adorned Sam’s face? Or was it that Danny was actually hot? Even above the blankets, Sam felt flushed and overheated and he couldn’t imagine how Danny felt, trapped underneath the blankets with the covers up to right below his chest, both of his arms sequestered under it, as well. He didn’t think it was just in his head again, the justification of finding a way to get rid of those blankets in light of his desire to see everything. Afterall, he was the intruder in Danny’s space - Danny shouldn’t be suffering because of him, that wasn’t very sexy.

Without permission and without crossing any unspoken boundaries, Sam tugged the edge of the blankets down until they were pooled around Danny’s forearms and waist, the shifting of his hand agitating the blankets even more now that it was closer to the hem, displaced in a manner that threatened to expose Danny with every stroke.

“Fuck, that’s good - it was getting really warm under there,” Danny sighed, face screwing up in pleasure. He tightened his hold on every upstroke, taking time to tease the head of his cock with his thumb, sliding it over the slit and spreading the wetness there back down to mix with the lube.

When he opened his eyes again, he found Sam lingering close, tongue peeking out between his lips as his hooded eyes flickered - meeting Danny’s own gaze before flicking down to his groin and then returning, a question ringing in his eyes that he couldn’t bring himself to voice out loud.

With the waves of pleasure, amplified by the feeling of being watched, being desired - specifically by Sam - inciting the nerves in his body to sing for more more more, he was left struggling to function, mind muddy with lust and want and a selfish longing that gave him little reason to stop Sam from doing whatever the hell he wanted.

“Yeah,” he keened, hips bucking to make up for his slowed pace now that he was distracted, “okay, yeah.”

Sam wasted no time, ripping the blankets away to the foot of the bed, and Danny kicked what snagged on his feet off so that he was completely bare. It all clicked into place for Sam, who drank in the unobscured movement of Danny’s hand across his skin.

“Shit, dude,” Sam murmured, his voyeuristic streak completely satisfied now that he could see everything. It was no longer just the hint under the blankets, the slick sound behind a curtain, a facial expression or the flex of the muscles in Danny’s stomach.

He didn’t know where to look. From the scratch of Danny’s heels against the sheets, the bend and stretch of his knees, the hand toying with his happy trail or his heaving chest, his fluttering eyelids or bitten lips that were opening to let choked moans escape. But he was always drawn back to what he’d not seen before.

He’d seen Danny shirtless countless times. Naked, too - but not in this context. And it put some kind of rose-colored filter over everything, making everything new and hot and sucking Sam in. But fuck…Sam couldn’t over the sight of Danny working himself over, hand flying up and down his shaft (he totally did slip a hand down to fiddle with his balls - Sam knew he was a masturbation master).

His appetite for the feeling of Danny’s skin under his touch didn’t go away, even with this new development. He wanted to feel how soft Danny was, but how hard he could get at the same time. Wanted to feel how hot he got, how long he would last in Sam’s fist or with Sam’s mouth wrapped around him.

Danny’s breath deepened and stuttered, his legs shifted, and he let out a sound that if Sam hadn’t been actively watching Danny get himself off, he would have mistaken for pain. Danny shot his left hand out, gripping Sam’s thigh just above his knee, and tugged, drawing Sam towards him.

Sam went willingly, holding himself back so as not to sob at the simple stimulation of his dick shifting against the material of his shorts. He was so fucking close and he hadn’t even touched himself. That hadn’t been part of the deal. “Danny?” he inquired, a slightly shaky hand lifting off the bed as if he was going to touch Danny, but stopped mid-way.

“Kiss me,” Danny demanded, still trying to get Sam closer.

Sam didn’t have to be told twice, lunging for Danny’s mouth as soon as he processed the words.

‘No homo’ had been thrown out the window, because this was decidedly not that . Teeth and tongue, moans and whines - they were all the culmination of something that was past platonic. Sam kissed Danny as if he would never again have the chance to - which, somewhere in his mind, Sam acknowledged that perhaps Danny wouldn’t want to be kissed like this again, that it was a heat of the moment type thing (not that he really believed that).

“Sam - Sammy, Sammy - bab-FUCK,” he murmured against Sam’s mouth, even as Sam continued to kiss whatever breath he had left out of his lungs and flick his tongue against the seam of his lips.

Danny’s hand had moved to Sam’s hip once they’d started kissing, and he gripped tighter, pulled Sam harder into him as he came all over his own hand, grunting as his come spilled over his knuckles, into his pubic hair, down to where he was still stroking himself slowly to wring every ounce of pleasure out.

What he didn’t realize was that he’d jerked Sam into his side as he came, unintentionally forcing him to grind his neglected erection into Danny’s warm body and that was all it took - he was gone. It was only from Sam’s whines and whimpers and little rolls of his hips into Danny that he realized what had happened.

They both laid there, panting and a little bit uncomfortable - only physically, though. After all, dried come anywhere wasn’t fun, much less in your pants or your pubes. And Danny’s hand and forearm were still wedged awkwardly under Sam, pinned to his hip. But neither of them made any effort to move, either.

Eventually, Danny broke the silence. “Did you –”

“Yeah.” Sam answered, not letting Danny finish his question. Was he a little bit embarrassed? Yes. Yes he was.

Danny blew out a controlled breath, and his dick twitched valiantly from where it was lying soft against his thigh, but it was too soon. Still - the fact that Sam had come just from watching Danny touch himself with minimal stimulation to his own cock was hot as fuck. Unable to help himself, he dug further - not with the intention to embarrass Sam - but it was his turn to be a nosy bastard. He tried to craft his tone into something soft and curious, instead of brash and teasing, and carefully asked, husky with the lust the idea sparked in him, “Even though you came earlier? In your room?”

Sam colored anyways, and he groaned and bristled, turning away from Danny. “Damn dude, you just had to bring that up?”

“I’m just curious, I swear! I’m not…judging you or anything.”

Sam hesitated, but grumbled out, “Yes , okay? But in my defense, the…” Sam trailed off, mumbling words that Danny didn’t catch.

“What?” Danny felt Sam squirm against him, and he wondered if it was because he was getting uncomfortable with the position or because of what he wanted to say.

“I said,” Sam emphasized as if he hadn’t just spoken like he was underwater, “in my defense, it was a lot more…intense than how I’d imagined it.”

Danny’s heart skipped a beat, and he wondered if Sam felt it through his skin, even though he wasn’t touching his chest. “Im-imagined it?” he croaked out, body struggling to keep up with the wave of arousal his brain sent out at that little tidbit of information.

It felt like his synapses were short-circuiting. Imagining it . If the images of Sam, alone in his hotel room and moaning - perhaps even his name - to thoughts of him, of them, weren’t enough to bring his cock back to life, then he was well and truly spent.

But he could get there again, he thought.

“You’re incredible,” Danny breathed, finally turning over to face Sam fully, pulling his hand from underneath him to put a thumb on his chin, dragging it down until Sam’s full bottom lip followed it. “Unreal.”

Sam would have responded with some snarky reply, but Danny was set on proving his unvoiced apprehensions about them and the future of their kissing endeavors wrong. Danny instigated, again and again, and left no doubt as to whether he wanted to kiss Sam as a lover once the heat of the moment had passed. And once Sam’s lips had been sufficiently kissed, he moved to his neck, mouthing his appreciation and subtle (not so subtle) adoration into the slightly salty skin there. Now that the barrier had been broken, there was no putting it back.

Sam saw his opportunity and took it. “No homo, bro, right?” he asked, breathless from the attention Danny was giving him that he had no clue he wanted so fucking bad.

Danny snorted and didn’t answer; he only pulled Sam further underneath him, capturing his lips and silencing him once again.

‘No homo’ had always been optional with them anyways.

...

Taglist: @greta-van-yeet @razorbladekiszka

#greta van fleet fics #gvf smut #sam kiszka x danny wagner #sanny gvf #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet smut #gvf slash

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