Martin didn't think his eyes could get any bigger.
"I am not wearing this in public." He looked vaguely like a Gorey illustration, about to walk out to his fantastic demise.
"Chicken." Danny's smile could get wider, but Martin wasn't sure how that would be possible. And even if it did, he wasn't sure he'd survive it.
"You'd better believe it."
It could get wider. Amazing. "Welsher."
"One word for you, my friend: couch."
"Oh no, no, no, no, no, you lost, Martin, not me. Do I have to remind you of the terms?"
Martin rolled his eyes. "No need, I remember. One: you pick the outfit, to include your new leather jacket. Two: glasses and facial hair. Three—" He hesitated, something catching in his throat.
"Stay the entire night."
Martin let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Yes."
Silence descended for a moment, and Martin wondered if he wasn't putting too much weight on Danny's last stipulation.
"Hmmmmmm."
Martin shivered as Danny kissed the join of his neck and shoulder. "What?"
"Can you get beard burn from crepe hair?"
Martin decided to save his pride and tell himself that wasn't a snort that had escaped his throat. Really. "Like you worry about that when it's your stubble we're talking about."
"I have very delicate skin, you know." Martin could feel the wide smile against the nape of his neck. An answering one tugged at his mouth, but he tried to suppress it a little longer. It was no fun giving in too quickly.
Martin shook his head and sighed resignedly as he took a last look in the mirror, before turning around to face Danny. He leaned against the edge of the sink, spreading his legs as he drew the other man towards him, smiling as Danny flowed forward and just melted all over the front of his body. Danny's breath was warm on his skin as he began nuzzling Martin's temple.
"You look sexy in those glasses." Danny's voice was rough now, sending little shivers down Martin's spine in anticipation.
Martin snickered softly as he tilted his head back, smiling as Danny gently nipped at his throat. "I look like a wanna-be spy. Or a superhero with no idea that his secret identity isn't really a secret after all."
Danny lifted his head to stare directly into Martin's eyes. "Can I call you Clark?"
"You will never, ever get me into tights."
The only word that aptly described that grin was evil. "Wanna bet?"
Happy birthday, Tiriel! (And look, it's only a bit late! *g*) Of course it's not the original birthday story I started writing for you, lo these many months ago, but it's Danny and Martin and that's good, yes? *vbg* Happy birthday, dear.
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