Page 57 of Second Chance

“Okay,” Daniel says. “If you change your mind…”

“I’ll let you know.”

Under Tony’s head, Daniel’s chest rises and falls evenly. If he’s very quiet, Tony can feel Daniel’s steady heartbeat. He doesn’t want to talk about it; he wasn’t lying. He doesn’t want to fight. But he can’t quite let it go. “Hey, Daniel?”

“Hm?”

“Why’s Lily so upset about the room searches? If she was the one who left the knife?”

Daniel’s shoulders draw tight beneath him. “Good question.”

“You still don’t think she…”

“No.” Daniel heaves a big sigh, hampered by Tony’s weight. “I don’t think she’s the one who left it. It’s probably normal student things she doesn’t want the police to find. Alcohol and weed, right? She was worried about being a suspect just because she found Amelia Lawrence, remember?”

Daniel’s hand settles heavily on Tony’s head, rubbing softly against the shaved sides.

Tony leans into it. “I still have a bad feeling about her. You might be right about the knife, but I think maybe she needs more help than you can give her.”

Daniel doesn’t answer.

Like this, with his face buried in Daniel’s chest, it’s easy to add, “I think maybe I need more help than you can give me.”

“Tony…”

“No, I mean…I was out of line tonight. I don’t want to put all that on you.”

Daniel’s hand stays steady in his hair. “Let me worry about what I can take, okay?”

Tony wants to protest. A relationship should be a two-way street, and if all the restless, residual anger is too much for him, how can he expect Daniel to take it on? But Daniel’s fingers stroke his head so slowly, Daniel’s body is warm and safe under his, and Tony drifts off before he can.

Chapter Nine

Morning finds Tony flat on his stomach on the living room floor, trying to reach his hair tie.

“Worf,” he growls out.

The cat blinks at him impassively from under the couch.

“C’mon, man. I’m gonna be late for work.”

He shifts forward until he can move the couch just a little with his shoulder and grasps the edge of the hair tie.

“You have real toys,” he tells Worf and boops his nose for good measure. Worf squawks at him in response.

Getting up off the floor is a mistake. His thighs burn, and his knees rub uncomfortably against the fabric of his jeans.

“Told you.” Daniel watches the entire exchange from an elevated vantage point, leaning against the kitchen doorway and sipping his tea. “You sure you don’t want some ibuprofen?”

Tony grits his teeth. Taking painkillers for sex-related injuries seems wrong somehow, like an admission of how desperate he felt last night for Daniel to stay with him, to stay safe. In the light of day, it’s more than a little embarrassing. “I’ll live.”

“Mm-hm.” Daniel takes a long sip. “You’ll live to regret riding me into the floor after about two hours of your highly physical job.”

Tony’s fairly sure it’ll be twenty minutes, but fuck if he’ll admit to that. “Baby.” He presses a wet kiss to Daniel’s cheek. “I could never regret it.”

Daniel scoffs, but he looks pleased enough that Tony counts it as a win. The good feeling carries him through the drive to Kingston, even when his engine starts making a wheezing noise partway across the river.

“Morning, Pa,” he calls as he drops his wallet and phone in his tray by the workbench.

---