Page 11 of Bad Daddy

Danny couldn’t help but look at how Clint slumped in his chair, how the wine glass looked so small in his large hand, and think about what Clint might want to do with him later. Clint… liked to hold Danny down. He liked how both of Danny’s wrists could fit in one of Clint’s hands. Danny had given up trying to do anything but take it.

Fuck, but he really didn’t want to spend the night at Clint’s. It was something Clint had been demanding of Danny more and more often lately. More of Danny’s time, more from Danny’s body.

More, more, more.

“So,” Clint said, looking confident and at ease. “How did you spend your Saturday, hm?”

Danny’s hands clenched in his lap. He resolutely didn’t say anything like I spent time with your arch nemesis. Clint would be worse than furious if he found out about Haru. Not like break off the arrangement, more like take it out on Danny.

Danny was well aware he was playing with fire, risking what he had. But part of him got a small satisfaction from what had occurred. One of Clint’s least favorite people had bought Danny hot cocoa and cookies and wanted to help him study and had even seemed a little impressed by him, somehow.

“Mostly studying,” he said, which was true. “I had my tutoring with Lily at nine like usual, and then I worked on my paper for business law.”

“That little girl still schooling you at statistics?” Clint asked, his mean smile playing around his lips.

“Lily’s really smart,” Danny said quietly. Not arguing exactly, but wanting to defend his—friend. “Definitely smarter than me. She’s getting a full ride to MIT.”

“And how’s the paper coming?” Clint said, dismissing the comment. “I expect you to get a good grade on it. Don’t want you wasting my tuition.”

My tuition. Clint never failed to remind Danny that he was the one paying Danny’s way. “It’s going good,” Danny said. “I’m almost finished.” He’d dictated the whole thing that afternoon, and was now just doing the arduous task of painstakingly reading the thing over and over to try to ferret out typos. He’d gotten an 80% on his last paper solely because he’d had grammatical issues and his voice to text had spelled things incorrectly.

Clint nodded and then changed the subject again, bored with talking about Danny. He had spent the last couple weeks working hard on a case, including late nights and weekends, and was happy to vent to a captive audience. Maybe that was why he’d been asking to see Danny more; a way to get out frustration.

When they were finished eating, Clint waved off dessert and paid the bill. He put a heavy hand on Danny’s hip as he led Danny back to the car, where his driver Ernie was waiting for them.

Once they were inside, Ernie flicked a glance at them through the rear view mirror and rolled up the privacy screen.

The entire drive back to Clint’s house, Danny told himself the same thing he always did. It’s worth it, it’s worth it, it’s worth it.

***

When Clint was finally done with him, Danny stumbled to Clint’s shower to rinse off. Clint let him go without fuss, happy enough to let Danny clean himself up. Sore and exhausted, Danny let the warm water beat down on his back for a few precious minutes before going through the motions of cleaning his body. He no longer wrinkled his nose at the mess, having long gotten used to the fact that Clint didn’t like using condoms.

When he was finished, he briskly toweled himself dry, absently rubbing at his wrists. They hurt, like they were about to start blooming with bruises, and Danny dreaded what they might look like come morning. Clint knew he wasn't supposed to leave marks. It was the only other rule Danny had set down. He’d promised.

Clint hadn’t been great at keeping those promises, lately.

Danny shoved aside his frustration as he went to brush his teeth. If he was brave enough to try to bring it up, he knew what Clint would do. He’d apologize in that saccharine way he did, saying that he didn’t realize he was holding Danny’s wrists that tightly.

“I won’t do it again, pet.”

Or worse, Clint would get annoyed with him. Danny could picture that too. “Really? You’re complaining about a few little bruises? After everything I give you? Pet, I’m disappointed.”

So Danny wasn’t going to bring it up, even if it bothered him. There was no point. He wasn’t going to win. His wrists might be a little bruised. So what? It was nothing in the grand scheme of things. He shouldn’t complain. All things considered, he had it great right now. He didn't have to pay for rent or school, and that was huge. He got help with some of his other bills, and some free meals besides. Things were fine. Good, even.

Danny had nothing to complain about. He just had to remind himself of that.

***

Clint wanted a morning blowjob, which was simple if nothing else. Once Danny had finished him off and Clint was laying back in the sheets looking satisfied, he’d given Danny permission to go.

Danny stumbled out a thank you and hurriedly threw on his clothes. He didn’t want Clint to change his mind. Especially when he had somewhere to be in a few hours.

He left Clint in the bedroom and pulled out his phone to call for a ride, using Clint’s account because he was allowed to coming and going from where Clint wanted him to be. He kept an ear out while he did so, listening for the shower to start.

Once he heard the water turn on, Danny let out a breath and beelined to the kitchen, where he devoured two bananas and grabbed a couple apples for the road, stuffing them into his coat pockets. He anxiously shifted from foot to foot as he waited for his ride to show up, keeping an ear out for any sounds or signs that Clint was approaching.

When his phone alerted him that his ride was outside, Danny jumped to leave the house, feeling as though he was about to vibrate out of his skin. All he wanted to do was go home, brush his teeth, and take another shower. Sure, he’d showered last night, but sometimes even showering at Clint’s didn’t leave him feeling clean.

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