Page 30 of Game Misconduct

It was a bad idea, but that had always been his unfortunate tendency. Once, when he was six years old, he’d stood too close to the plancha at the diner.Don’t do it, Danny, his mother had said, when she saw him staring, fascinated by the way the heat rose off of the iron, smacked him in the face.It’s hot, be careful.He’d slammed his fingers down on the hot metal and dealt with the burns for almost two weeks.

He’d never learned either.

You are a pain in my fucking ass. Find a bathroom or something.

yeah. this fucking house is the worst, there are people everywhere.

I bet you get off on that, huh. Someone hearing just how fucking desperate you are.

jesus fuck, give me a second, im still trying to find a door i can lock

“Okay,” Mike said, after Danny answered his call. He sounded breathless already, more than a little drunk, but nowhere near as smashed as he’d been the other night. “I found a bathroom. But I gotta bequiet.”

“Hah. You’ve never been quiet in your fucking life, I bet.”

“I can keep it down!”

“Mhm.”

“Ican.”

“I’ll tell you what, if you can’t, you’re gonna have to do some practice drills for me.”

“Daniel fucking Garcia,” and Danny was pleased to hear he’d gotten the pronunciation right this time, “are you trying to bribe me into your fucking insane idea with phone sex?”

“Seems like it’s working, so I wouldn’t saytrying.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“So is that a yes or a no? Because I can hang up, Mike.”

There was a long pause and a shaky breath out. “Yes. It’s always fucking yes with you, you asshole.”

Danny tucked the phone between his ear and his shoulder and slid his hand down his boxers. The whole situation was definitely getting into shame-boner territory. He was only half-hard, stymied by the contrast of the melancholy he’d felt earlier and the animal need he felt now.

“You have to be quiet.” His voice sounded funny, not like him. Too rough already. That fuckingkid. He could hear a sharp breath in, but nothing else. It wasn’t enough. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

Mike made a noise that wasn’t quite a giggle, a nervous bark of laughter, which he swallowed quickly. “Jesus, this is weird. I’m, uh. Hand in my pants. I’m—” There was a brief moment of just a breath; a little sigh. His voice was low, not quite a whisper, but close. Danny could imagine how it would sound in person, in his ear. God, he was so fucked. “I’m touching myself, okay?”

Danny moved his own hand up his dick, thumbed the head and slid it down again. A full-body shudder ran over him. Doing this with Mike was like the shivery head rush you got with really good IV painkillers. He didn’t want to go too fast, lose this opportunity, but he knew they couldn’t stretch it out as long as he wanted to either. “When you do it think about how I’d do it. How I’d touch you.”

“Fuck.”

“You know how.”

“Fuck, you did it like you were fucking angry with me and—and your hands are so fucking big, I couldn’t—I hate you, it’s notfair—”

“My hands are big? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Fuck you, theyare, I like it—”

“Shh, keep your voice down, or I—”

“You’re not going to win this one, Danny, fuck you.”

“I got you off so fast because you just—god, you just need it so badly, you’re so fucking—”

“Fuck, fuck,” Mike was muttering to himself, like a curse or a prayer.

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