Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Simon and Daniel had lived together all their lives. They had been in the womb together, endured abuse together, gone through foster care - the best experience they’d had in years - together. They were adopted together and moved out together when they grew up. They had never not been together. 

Then Simon met Markus. 

Daniel had been skeptical of his brother’s Mr. Perfect at first - after all no one’s that perfect without some major flaw, right? He had to be some secret killer or stalker or have some majorly problematic characteristic. 

Though, the longer Simon stayed with him, the harder it seemed to be to justify any flaw. He really did seem like the perfect prince out of some children’s storybook. 

And Simon seemed to believe that too, with how much of a whirlwind their relationship was. 

One day, Simon was going to meet up with his new date, the next it seemed like they were always together. In a matter of months, they were heads over heels for each other and engaged. It wasn’t long before Simon was moving out of their apartment and in with Markus. 

Daniel had tried to be supportive. He knew how happy his brother was with his new boyfriend - fiance - and didn’t want to stop him from living his life, no matter how hard it was on him. 

Daniel had just never been alone before. Sure, there were often nights he spent away from him with a friend or even a stranger in bed by his side, but Daniel had always had a twin and shared bedroom - with matching beds shoved into opposite corners - to return home to. Living alone felt like a piece bigger than himself was missing. 

Daniel had never truly been alone and he didn’t like it. In fact, he hated it.

There was no one to pester when he wanted to be annoying. There was no one to cook and clean when he didn’t want to. He wasn’t being nagged to pick up after himself. There were no items being moved except the ones he moved. The apartment was eerily quiet. There was no one to talk to. No one to hang out with. There was no one to turn to when the midnight thoughts creeped up on him and he needed the reassurance of seeing that his brother was okay, and maybe - just maybe - cramming two bodies into one of their already too-small beds like they often did as children after particularly rough days. Reverting back to being two bruise-covered kids clinging together had always been a comfort, but now he couldn’t even take solace in that. 

No, there was none of that and it was only detrimental to Daniel’s health. This largely took the form of sleep deprivation as days and days passed without him getting a full night’s rest. If he was lucky, maybe he could get an hour or two between nightmares or get a few minutes in when his exhaustion got too great and his body seemed to shut down on its own. 

This pattern only stopped when Simon came to visit, not used to going so long without his brother either, and was shocked at the sight of him. Daniel’s clothes and hair were disheveled and he had horrendous bags under his eyes - all characteristics foreign on someone usually so proud of their appearance.

Simon did a little prying to find when the last time Daniel had slept was and, soon, was forcing his brother into bed. It was almost an automatic action to crawl into bed beside him and let Daniel snuggle up next to him. His brother practically melted against him with how much tension left his body when he got comfortable and Simon’s heart broke a little. 

It was in that moment that Simon knew his “little visit” wasn’t going to be so little anymore. In fact, he stayed with his brother until he caught up on all the sleep he’d missed and forced out an explanation as to why he’d missed so much. It had hurt to hear that the primary cause was that Daniel was just too worried about Simon and if he was okay to be able to rest. It had been hard to leave him again after that, but Simon took comfort in the knowledge that Daniel was at least functioning again - for the time being. 

The experience had been an eye opener that made the twins realize they’d have to figure out a system to prevent this from happening again. 

At first, they began video chatting every night. They’d talk about their day or even just say good night from their own homes to satisfy themselves in knowing that the other was safe and okay. 

Eventually, video chats gave way to phone calls and those shortened down to voice messages before turning into simple texts. By then, Daniel was much more able to sleep without knowing the exact whereabouts and conditions of his brother and living apart became much easier. 

That said, Daniel still didn’t like living alone. Sure, he could have as many people over to sleep with as he wanted and didn’t really have to bother with cleaning up afterwards as much, but, despite his numerous friends with benefits and one night stands, the place was still lonely. 

So Daniel did the natural thing and sought out a roommate. 

He ended up choosing a guy who already had a job and his own transport and promised to pay rent on time. He seemed like he wouldn’t be much trouble but it wouldn’t take long before Daniel realized just how opposite they were. 

The man’s name was Connor and he was just a few years younger than Daniel. 

Where Daniel had had his share of run-ins with the law, Connor was a detective and the law himself. Where Daniel liked video games, Connor liked documentaries. Where Daniel was hypersexual, Connor was asexual. 

Daniel was loud, Connor was quiet. Daniel was crude and vulgar, Connor was prim and proper. Daniel was often dirty - he couldn’t help it, as a mechanic - Connor was clean.  

Their lifestyles couldn’t seem to be more different and they clashed more often than not. 

That said, there were still times where they came together and their differences didn’t seem to matter at all. This became especially prevalent in their difference of Daniel being a troublemaker who got himself hurt more often than not and Connor having a well stocked first aid kit that he was very proficient in using.

Chapter Text

It all started when Daniel came home one day with a pair of sunglasses on. Connor had never seen Daniel so much as touch sunglasses before, so it was especially odd as he crossed the living room with them on. Connor frowned and took note of the odd behavior. 

The day went on as usual - except for the fact that the glasses never left Daniel’s face. Every time Connor saw him, the sunglasses were still there. Heading to the bathroom? Sunglasses. Grabbing something from the living room? Sunglasses. Getting a drink? Sunglasses. It took until Daniel came out for dinner for Connor to confront him about it. 

The fact of the matter was that not many people wore sunglasses inside and Daniel hadn’t proven himself to be one in the few months they’d been living together. Why was he suddenly wearing them inside, now? It wasn’t even sunny outside . 

Approaching the blond as he prepped their meal, Connor decided to question as much. “Daniel, why are you wearing sunglasses inside? You’ve been wearing them since you came home and I see no reason for you to be doing such.”

The other scoffed. “What do you care? I can do what I want.”

Connor tilted his head to the side. “Yes, but you’ve never done this before. It’s out of the ordinary for your behavior. Is something wrong?”

There was the briefest second of hesitation before Daniel replied, “No.”

Connor frowned. “Then can you take off the sunglasses? If nothing’s wrong then there shouldn’t be anything to hide.”

Daniel straightened his back as his defenses went up. “Who says I’m hiding anything? Maybe I just don’t want to.”

Connor sighed. He just wanted to be nice and this was the behavior he got? “The way you’re acting seems more like you’re hiding something than not. We’ve been living together for a while now and I’ve learned your mannerisms. This isn’t it. If something is wrong, I can help.”

Daniel was silent for a long moment before he let out a long sigh. “I’m fine. Just got into another fight, nothing new.”

Connor raised an eyebrow at the information. “And you’re wearing sunglasses after a fight because…?”

Daniel made a defeated sound and took off the glasses. He took a moment before turning towards Connor and looking at him. 

His left eye was swollen and red, purple bruising starting to take over. 

Connor observed the injury as well as he could before reaching out towards it, stopping just inches from Daniel’s face. “May I?”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Whatever. It’s not like you can really do anything about it anyway.”

Gently touching the skin, Connor examined the injury and sighed. “You’re right.” Daniel smirked at the confession. “There’s not much I can do about that, but some ice should help with the swelling. Let me go get you some.”

With that, Connor rummaged through some drawers and turned to the freezer. When he turned back, he had a bag of ice cubes and a clean dish towel in hand. He wrapped the bag in the towel so it wouldn’t be too cold and gently pressed it to Daniel’s eye. 

The blond shied away from the cold before brining his own hand up to hold the ice there. 

Annoyance masked an amusement in his voice, “Happy now? It’s not like this is my first time with a black eye. It’ll go away eventually.”

Connor frowned. “But proper care will still reduce the swelling and promote quicker healing.”

“Yeah, yeah, it helps and all.” Daniel waved away the advice and rolled his eyes. “You’re starting to sound like my brother.”

Connor’s eyebrows slightly furrowed, “Simon?”

Sarcasm dripped from the blond’s voice, “No, my other identical twin. Yes, Simon.”

Connor cocked his head to the side like a puppy, “How am I like him?”

Daniel raised one of his own eyebrows like what he was about to state was obvious. “Well, nagging to take care of a black eye is a starting point.”

Connor’s expression deepened. “And how often has he done that for me doing it once to remind you of him?”

Daniel was silent for a moment as he thought of how much to reveal. When he finally spoke, his tone had shifted to something much softer than Connor had ever heard from him. “A lot. You’ve seen me bruised enough to know I get into a lot of fights. And that’s nothing new. There’s…sort of always been bruises. Ever since we were little.”

Connor’s detective tendencies got the better of him. “We?”

Fuck. Daniel wasn’t anywhere near that level of unlocking tragic backstory with Connor. Or…so he had thought. 

Biting his lip before flicking his tongue back and forth over his lip ring, Daniel found the words flowing from his lips on their own. “Me and Simon. We…we had shit parents. Our birth dad, specifically. Once we started realizing that we’re boys, we started getting beat. We were supposed to be perfect spoiled princesses and we started hating the dresses and pink everything and sparkles and…and they hated it. Our parents were also super conservative so when we started wanting t-shirts and red and blue shit and trucks and dinosaurs, they said we were just confused and wrong and every other thing bigoted assholes say.” He briefly paused as his gaze turned distant before blinking himself back to reality. 

He cleared his throat and tried to sound okay as he finished his story, “But yeah, we got beat a lot so we learned how to patch each other up. I’m tougher than that, though. I don’t need help - especially not for a stupid black eye. I’m fine. You don’t need to be all…mother hen about it.”

Daniel certainly hadn’t been closeted - in any regards - but hearing about his upbringing was new. Connor had, unfortunately, seen his share of domestic violence as a member of law enforcement, but he would have never expected his roommate to be a victim of it. It put a whole new light on Daniel’s self destructive tendencies and indifference to being hurt. 

Connor’s expression shifted to something mildly worried, knowing Daniel would hate any kind of sympathy or pity. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. No child deserves to be treated that way.”

The blond quickly dismissed him. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before.” He turned back to the food he’d been preparing. “Now, help me chop this stuff up. I can’t really use a knife while holding this ice pack up.”

Connor nodded and the conversation dropped right then and there. As his hands got busy cutting up vegetables, however, his mind still raced to sort through and file away all the new information he’d been given. 

Chapter Text

Winter had approached and Connor took a great interest in the way Daniel’s fashion changed with the weather. A plethora of red T-shirts had been subbed out for a collection of hoodies ranging from name brands to the most emo things Connor had ever seen. Daniel’s dozens of fancy sneakers swapped with dozens of fashionable boots. The beanies he occasionally wore became quite a permanent fixture. His black skinny jeans and signature leather jacket stayed the same. 

As weather got colder, an additional accessory had been added - a pair of red gloves that Daniel seemed to hate yet wore every time he went out. The reason? He knew his brother would lecture him if he caught him without anything to keep his hands warm and Daniel couldn’t stand the thought of sitting through the fussing over his own well being. It was kind of cute. 

What wasn’t cute was the day Daniel came home with one hand cradling the other to his chest. The material of the glove on the protected hard was stained a darker red, the telltale sign of blood. 

When Connor saw it, he eyes slightly widened and he walked over to the other. He’d gotten used to Daniel having bruises and red marks and complaining about being sore, but blood was a new level. 

Reaching for the gloves, the brunet frowned as his hand was swatted away. 

Daniel sounded defensive as he spoke, “I can do it.” He peeled the glove off his good hand then hissed in pain as he took off the other. Tossing both gloves aside, Daniel held  his injured hand in his good one and offered it to Connor with a roll of his eyes when the brunet came closer. 

Connor ignored the annoyed sound as he gently took Daniel’s hand and examined it. His knuckles were cracked and scraped up, red smeared all around them and still slowly pooling in a few spots. It didn’t look as bad as it could have been, but it wasn’t pretty either. 

Connor found himself speaking without thinking. “What happened? Are you okay?” 

Daniel’s next eye roll could prove heard. “M’ fine. Fucker ducked out of the way and my fist slammed into the brick wall behind him. Busted my knuckles, but that’s about it.” 

Connor hummed. “Well, I’m glad it’s nothing worse. You don’t seem to have any broken bones, just tenderness. I’ll go get my first aid kit and get it cleaned and patched up for you.”

Daniel let out an exasperated sigh as the other headed down the hall to the bathroom. To not seem like he was following him, the blond went to the kitchen and carefully washed his hands, softly whining when it stung. 

By time he was drying his hands, Connor was back with the first aid kit that looked more like a briefcase with how big it was. Daniel rolled his eyes in fondness this time. Of course Mr. Goody Two Shoes Cop had the world’s biggest first aid kit. It just made sense. 

Connor sounded pleased as he spoke, “Oh good! You got the wound cleaned. I’ll just add some disinfectant and wrap it up, then.”

As the brunet searched for what he needed in the sea of medical supplies, Daniel wordlessly stared at his knuckles and waited. 

He would never reveal the truth of how he’d been pushed around from person to person in the group he’d picked a fight with and had been so unsteady on his feet that when the man he was aiming at ducked out of the way, his punch just turned into scraping his hand against the wall as he whiffed the shot. The momentum had spun him around and the next thing he knew he was on the ground. The others had laughed at the display, one had spit on him, and they’d left. 

The blond’s replay of the memory was rudely interrupted as he let out a sharp hiss and yanked his hand away from Connor, who must have grabbed it while he was spaced out. There was betrayal in Daniel’s voice, “The fuck was that for? That hurt!” He cradled his hand back to his chest. 

Connor looked up to meet narrowed blue eyes. “Sorry. It was just some disinfectant. I should have warned you that it might burn.”

“No shit.” Daniel glared at the other. 

Connor simply held his hand out for Daniel to give him his again, letting out a long suffering sigh as the blond shook his head ‘no’ like a stubborn child. 

Well, two could play that game. Daniel wanted to act like a kid, he could be reasoned with like one. “Daniel. I need to clean your knuckles. You’ll hate it even more if they get infected from whatever was on that wall and you have to have some sort of procedure done to get it all cleaned out.”

With an award winning pout and no small amount of disdain for being talked to like a baby, the blond gave his hand back to the other. 

“Thank you.” Connor gently positioned the pale hand to show the injury. He sounded sympathetic as he spoke again. “This is going to hurt a little.” 

Taking the disinfectant wipe, he cleansed the injury, making note of the way Daniel grimaced and turned away from it but kept his hand in place this time. When he was satisfied with his work, Connor grabbed a roll of gauze and carefully wrapped the other’s hand, making sure to completely cover the wound. 

When he was finished, he spoke with pride in his voice, “There! All done.” His tone changed to teasing. “Try not to punch any more walls? As much as I don’t mind taking care of you, I don’t want this to become a habit.”

A goofy grin crossed Connor’s face and it took all the will power Daniel had not to match it. 

Chapter Text

A couple months later, Connor caught Daniel limping through their front door and plopping himself down on the couch. The blond hissed as he adjusted his position so that he could reach down and pull his right boot off. 

Sitting next to him to examine the new injury, Connor stated his first observation, “For combat boots, those don’t seem very protective.”

Daniel made a sound between a scoff and a laugh. “Yeah, well, they’re for fashion so they don’t have much of a purpose other than to look badass.” He carefully massaged his ankle and groaned. “Doesn’t help much when you twist your ankle though.”

Connor tilted his head inquisitively. “Is that what happened? Do you need to go to the doctor and-“

“No!” The idea was immediately shut down. 

Connor frowned. “I was going to say that an x-ray could be important. If you have a serious injury-“

“No. No doctors. I can deal with,” the blond gestured at his foot, “whatever this is on my own.” His tone left no room for argument. “Just…do your first aid magic.”

Connor raised an amused eyebrow. “There’s not much I can do for this. We can prop up your foot and get some ice, but that’s about it. If it doesn’t start getting better in a couple of days, there might be something serious going on.”

Daniel stared blankly at a point ahead and spoke definitively. “No. Doctors. I told you already.”

Connor frowned. “What’s wrong with doctors? There’s a lot they can do that my ‘first aid magic’ wouldn’t be able to take care of.” He made sure to use air quotes around Daniel’s phrase. 

The other harrumphed. “Doctors are creepy and have all sorts of stabby, cutty, jabby things. And could kill me like a thousand different ways. And make my heart and brain race and, fuck, I just hate them.”

“Do you…have a phobia? That’s…quite an adverse reaction.” Connor’s detective curiosity was piqued. 

“I mean, yeah, but it’s weirder not to. Do you trust random strangers to jab needles and shit into your body? Cause that’s fucking crazy.” Daniel turned his head and crossed his arms to emphasize his point. 

Connor, on the other hand, only continued his inquiry. “They’re not strangers, they’re qualified professionals. Is there a reason you mentioned needles specifically?”

Daniel glared. “Don’t get me started on the needles themselves- I do not want metal or plastic or whatever they are in my body. Like going through my skin?” He lightly gagged at the mere thought. “No fucking thanks.”

Amusement came over Connor’s face. “Says the guy with a bunch of piercings.”

Daniel glared. “That’s different.” The amused look held and the blond continued, “You can see where the piercing fucking goes, but needles just jam into your flesh and muscles and you can’t see it and who knows what the fuck is going on in there.” A near violent shudder ran through him. “No way.”

Connor observed the scene before him. “So is that two phobias now? I don’t know if I’ve learned so much about you in one sitting before.”

Daniel glared again and pouted. “Shut up.”

A poorly held back smile added to Connor’s amused look. “Hm, I suppose we could drop the topic. How about we finally get that ankle taken care of?” 

Daniel pretended to contemplate the offer for a moment. “Alright. Go get…whatever you need.”

Connor grabbed a throw pillow and fluffed it up as he spoke, “All I’m really going to need is some ice.” He looked Daniel over. “You should try to get out of those skinny jeans too. The tightness won’t help the swelling.”

Daniel smirked at the comment. “Never thought you’d be trying to get me out of my pants.”

Connor lightly blushed at the insinuation and set the pillow on the coffee table near the other. “It’s not for any sexual reason. The tightness disrupts circulation and good circulation will promote healing.”

Daniel’s smirk stayed. “Yeah, yeah. Can I at least have a blanket? I don’t care what you see, but I doubt you want to see what’s under here.”

“I don’t mind seeing your underwear. You’re injured and it’ll help you heal. Besides, in case you’ve forgotten, I’m asexual. I wouldn’t care about seeing your underwear even if you were hurt.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “You being ace is about as much of a secret as me being a whore - everyone knows. I just didn’t think you’d be interested in seeing the thong that barely covers anything.”

“Oh.” Connor’s blush darkened at the mental image the new information brought forward. “I can get you a blanket. Or even some shorts, if you’d prefer.”

Daniel shook his head. “Nah, a blanket is fine.” He grimaced as he tried to stand up and fell back into his spot before he was even a few inches off the cushion. 

“Here, let me help.” Connor stood up and took Daniel’s hands, pulling him up and supporting his weight as the blond stood. He let go of Daniel’s hands but stayed nearby as the other balanced on one foot. “You can undress now. I won’t look. Just get them down as far as you can and do the rest sitting down. I’ll catch you if you fall.”

Daniel took a moment to process what Connor was telling him and building the courage to act before moving to unfasten his pants. He tugged them halfway down his thighs before sighing in defeat. “Okay, that’s all I can do.”

Keeping his eyes on Daniel’s face, Connor helped lower him back to the couch. “Work on getting them the rest of the way off. I’ll be right back.”

With that, Connor headed to get a throw blanket for Daniel and came back, draping it over the back of the couch near the other. He left again after that and headed to the kitchen, filling a plastic bag with ice and wrapping it in a towel like he’d done for Daniel’s black eye. 

Returning once more, Connor was met with a pile of black denim on the floor and a blanket across Daniel’s lap. He smiled at the sight of Daniel’s foot already propped up on the pillow still on the coffee table. “Here’s your ice. Let me put it on for you.”

Connor gently placed the makeshift ice pack over Daniel’s ankle, the swelling clear now without his pants in the way. “Try to keep that on as long as you can. And stay still. The less you walk on it the better.”

Daniel grinned. “If I can’t walk, then you’re going to have to do everything for me.”

Connor smiled back. “That I will.”

Chapter Text

It was mid spring when Connor heard loud cursing from the kitchen. He put down the book he’d been reading and left the living room as he headed towards the noise. 

He was about to question if everything was okay when his eyes landed on Daniel and he froze. 

Connor had never seen the other without his signature leather jacket on before. Well, except for the handful of times he’d seen him in hoodies and jackets, but the leather jacket was a staple that he wore seemingly 24/7. Catching him in a T-shirt was bewildering. 

It took a moment to get over the shock of seeing his arms for once before Connor noticed something even more alarming - a big patch of his left forearm was an angry red. 

Connor’s previous words finally formed. “What happened?”

Daniel hissed as he flexed the fingers of his left hand. “I was making dinner and guess I left my fucking pasta for too long. Some got stuck to the bottom and I pushed too hard to loosen it. A big wave of boiling water fucking splashed out and it fucking hurts.”

Connor strode to the sink and ran some cool - but not cold - water. “Here, put your arm under the water. It should help cool the burn.” 

He assisted the blond in easing his arm under the water as he let out another painful hiss. “There, keep it under there for a while. Do you think you can get your bracelets off?”

Daniel huffed a laugh. 

Connor furrowed his brow in curiosity. “Hm? What’s so funny?”

Daniel gave a half grin. “I hardly take the things off. Don’t have to take them off often.”

The brunet blinked. “Well, can you?”

Daniel tilted his head to the side inquisitively. “Why?”

Connor signed a breath. “So it can heal. It’ll likely swell and, like I’ve said before, not having tight things on that can restrict it will increase circulation and help you to get better quicker.”

Daniel sighed back and started to mess with the latch on his spiky leather bracelet that may or may not have had more explicit origins. After a while of no progress, he made a frustrated sound. 

Reaching forward, Connor unlatched it and pulled the material away from Daniel’s wrist. He set the bracelet on the counter and watched as the blond took his two gel bracelets off and added them to the pile. 

Daniel huffed a laugh to break the silence. “I feel naked now.”

Connor couldn’t help his grin. “Oh yes, your wrist to mid-forearm is very naked now. How scandalous.”

Daniel nudged him away with his good arm. “Hey, it’s still skin you’ve never seen before.”

Connor lightly swatted at him. “Oh please, your arms in general is skin I haven’t seen before.”

Daniel let out what seemed to be a playful huff. “Well, then, looks like you’re getting to see all sorts of new parts of me.”

Connor huffed a laugh back - he seemed to get more opportunities to see more of Daniel than he knew what to do with. His response was simple. “Yeah.” 

With that, a silence settled between them again until Connor dared to break it with a question he’d been holding onto for what felt like ages now. “How…does none of this ever seem to bother you? Do you not feel pain?”

Daniel’s expression shifted from grinning and playful to a soft smile as distant, almost reflective emotion took over. “Remember who you’re talking to? I was abused as a kid, have had abusive exes, and am a masochist. Pain is literally a key part of my life. I’m just used to getting hurt. It’s not a big deal to me because it’s always happened. I get into fights I can’t win and just do stupid things and get hurt.” He grabbed a gel bracelet from the counter, squeezing and stretching the loop as he fidgeted with it. “You…clearly know I’ve hurt myself before, now, too.”

Connor’s brow furrowed for a brief moment before he realized what Daniel was saying. In his shock of seeing Daniel’s arms and the big burn, he had completely blocked out the fact that the pale skin was littered with horizontal scars.  

“Danny…” A silence lulled as Connor tried to think of more to say than the nickname he’d never said out loud before. 

Daniel took a beat to register what Connor had called him. Blinking away a faint blush, he spoke, “I don’t need sympathy. Haven’t done it in…a while. You know I fucking bottle my emotions up and that shit isn’t healthy. This is how I used to let them out. Internalize the pain and physically let it go. It was easier.” Daniel scratched at his thigh with his good hand. “I have them there too. Not ones I made - I…liked them on my arms. I have scars from knife play and being flogged and all that down there. Knives aren’t really my thing, but other people are into it so.” He shrugged to finish his sentence. 

Connor’s brow furrowed as he took in the information. “You…let people cut you because they like it?”

The blond gave another shrug. “Yeah.”

Connor frowned. “But…your body. They scarred you.”

Daniel blinked at him like the statement was the most obvious thing in the world “And? It’s not like I’m actually attractive or lovable or anything. Whatever makes them stay is fine by me.”

The words left Connor’s brain reeling, unable to think of anything other than the other’s name. “Daniel-“

The blond brushed him off. “Yeah, yeah, I don’t need another self acceptance and self love bullshit talk. I get those from Simon all the time. I get that therapy would be good for me but no way I’m doing something stupid like that.”

Connor frowned deeper. He had a lot to say in response to that, but didn’t want to cause upset so he kept quiet. Instead, he glanced at the time and spoke, “It’s been long enough. Let’s get your arm dried and bandaged.” He retrieved a clean towel as Daniel turned off the faucet and helped to gently dab the wound dry. 

Connor excused himself to get the first aid kit that had been seeing a lot more action than it had any right to and fished out some gauze to wrap Daniel’s arm. Securing the bandage in place, Connor couldn’t help his small grin as he tried to lighten the mood. “Try not to get hurt too much more, I’m starting to run out of supplies.”

A ghost of a grin shined back from Daniel as he looked up from examining the bandage. “We’ll see.”

Chapter Text

Daniel had an endearingly peculiar on-again, off-again relationship with his red beanie. Some days, it was one of his favorite fashion statements, high end name brand tag proudly displayed. Other days, it could be found stuffed into any given dresser drawer or just thrown around his room. 

The warmer weather of an approaching summer didn’t even stop the phases from continuing, the blond currently being on a streak of having the beanie be a crucial part of his carefully curated outfits. How he could wear the same thing in the scorching heat as he did in the dead of winter was a mystery not even his detective roommate would be able to figure out.

What Connor had figured out, however, was that Daniel was a loud, brash, and unadmittedly clumsy individual. All that accumulated to the fact that, even as he sat on the couch engrossed in a book, the brunet hardly spared any attention to the sound of the front door banging open, long used to the behavior. Though, the brief glimpse he had given the other was still enough for him to do a double take. 

Daniel was disheveled, shirt collar pulled around and leather jacket barely on. His face was scratched up on one side and he seemed out of it as he pulled off his beanie and leaned heavily against the wall. 

The sight of red in blond locks was enough to get Connor scrambling to his feet and forcing Daniel into the nearest chair. He fussed through the other’s hair, examining the extent of Daniel’s injury. 

Satisfied to see no heavy bleeding, Connor dragged Daniel to the bathroom and directed him to sit on the toilet. Closing the lid and straddling it backwards, the blond complied with an eye roll. 

In a moment, Connor was fussing at his hair again, dabbing a damp cloth at the bloody region. When he had cleaned it enough to see where the red was coming from, he held pressure to the area until it stopped. 

Satisfied with the lack of new blood, he finally got out his first aid kit and found the supplies he’d need to help the other. Soaking a swab in disinfectant, he turned back to the blond. His voice was but a soft murmur as he spoke, “This might hurt.” 

He heard Daniel suck in a deep breath as he prepared himself for the familiar sting and let out a quiet whine as the wound was cleaned. As he worked, a small smile found its way across Connor’s face at the rare show of vulnerability. Though, it quickly faded as he moved back with a sigh and spoke again, “That’s about the best I can do for this.”

His gaze traveled down Daniel’s body, looking for any other obvious injuries that needed immediate attention. Not finding anything severe, he threw away his used supplies and spoke, “You’re lucky it’s just a little busted skin. The scalp has a lot of vessels so even the smallest injuries tend to bleed a lot.” He faced the other again and cupped Daniel’s jaw, turning his head to look at him with a more serious expression on his face. “I will be keeping an eye on you though. If you start acting odd, then we’re going to the hospital to get you properly checked out.”

Heat rushed to Daniel’s cheeks for…a multitude of reasons. He quickly attempted to hide it with a groan and an eye roll, not willing to let his badass facade down. 

Unfazed by the display, Connor held eye contact. “I’m serious, Daniel. If you show any signs of a concussion, you are going to the hospital.”

A brief flash of fear flickered through blue eyes before the blond sighed and gave the slightest nod, clearly not happy with the idea but knowing that arguing would be a losing battle. 

The brunet held eye contact a moment more to emphasize the seriousness of the situation. When he finally let the topic drop, his expression softened and his attention lowered to Daniel’s face. 

Picking back up the damp cloth and folding it over to a clean spot, Connor wiped at scraped patches of skin across Daniel’s cheek and temple. With a soft sigh, he cleaned the rest of the blood off his face and consulted his first aid kit again. 

When he turned back to the other, Connor found Daniel had turned around to look forward and angled his face so he could reach him better. With a slight smile, Connor brought a new swab inches from pale skin and paused. His voice was a soft murmur as he spoke, “This is going to sting a bit.” He waited for a subtle nod before moving forward to disinfect the wounds. 

Daniel whined as the swab touched his skin and his cheek stung. He fussed louder as the scrape on his temple was cleaned and he shied away from the touch, making Connor chase his movements as he finished disinfecting the area. A pout stayed on the blond’s face as the other pulled away. 

Connor smiled at the endearing reaction. “I warned you, this time. Twice.”

Daniel’s pout intensified. “Yeah, yeah. I can still be upset it hurts.”

Connor threw away his used supplies and responded, “Well, it’s over now. Just let me put a bandage on it and we’re all done.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless you have any other injuries?”

Daniel minutely shook his head. His voice was soft as he spoke - for perhaps the first time - the truth, “They just shoved me against a wall and laughed. I’m fine.”

Connor frowned. “The more I hear about your fights, the more it just seems like you’re being beaten.”

Daniel shook his head more confidently. “It’s not, if I start them.”

Connor tilted his head. “Then why do you keep doing it?”

Daniel was silent for a long moment before his voice dropped to a whisper, “Being pushed around and hit is the only constant in my life. There’s…comfort in familiarity.”

Connor frowned. “There can be comfort in safety too, you know. Being safe and happy can be familiar, if you let it.” He sighed before revealing a confession, “I don’t like seeing you hurt all the time. You come home so often with new injuries.”

Daniel’s response was simple. “I know.” He paused, uncomfortable with the emotions that were being brought up and fidgeted with the ends of his sleeves. When he found the right words, he spoke again, “It just… feels wrong not being bruised and sore all the time. I’ve… always been like this.”

Connor gave him a look that made it seem like he was the one being hurt. He turned back to the first aid kit and spoke as he rummaged through it, “But you don’t have to be. You can take up a hobby and forget about being hurt all the time. Let yourself be happy.”

Daniel huffed a laugh. “My hobbies are expensive and I’m broke as fuck. I get my mechanic fix at work and save up to buy one nice piece of clothing like every couple months. This is the best I’ve got.”

Connor turns back to the other with some gauze pads and tape. “What about some sort of sport or exercise? I’m sure you’d like martial arts. You could still fight that way but be safer.”

Daniel laughed. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I don’t exactly like to follow rules. And all that stuff has pretty strict ones. I’m fine just getting beat up on the streets.”

Connor rose an eyebrow at the words as he pressed some gauze to Daniel’s cheek and began taping it into place.

The blond flustered. “I mean- picking fights on the street. I pick fights so people will hurt me. Doesn’t mean I’m just getting beat up.”

Connor pulled back when he was done and frowned. “No, that’s somehow worse when you get into fights just so people can hurt you.” He hesitated and spoke in a soft voice. “That’s self harm, Daniel. It might not be a traditional way, but you’re still getting yourself hurt on purpose. You really need to find an alternative way to express your emotions and the…the familiarity with pain. Before something worse happens.” He folded down another piece of gauze and began securing it to Daniel’s temple. 

The blond took a deep breath and spoke back in an equally soft voice. “I know. This is just…easier. Go out, find a group of guys, insult them until they can’t hold back, and enjoy the pain. It’s what I deserve. Things have…never been good. I’ve always had pain. From my parents, myself, others…it’s just what I’m used to.”

Connor sat back and tossed the tape back into his kit before closing it. His hands twitched, aching to grab the other’s. “Daniel…that’s not true. There had to be some time that you weren’t hurting like this. Time with your brother or someone else you trust.”

Daniel gave a dry laugh. “It’s hard to trust people once you’ve grown used to your own parents beating you. I practically grew up black and blue. I’d always take more of it to protect Simon. He didn’t deserve it. He’s too good. I’d take all the pain in the world for him.”

Connor’s heart simultaneously broke and melted at how much Daniel had gone through and how much cared for his twin. “You were just kids. You didn’t deserve any pain either, Danny.”

The blond shrugged. “Better me than him. I was the trouble maker. I earned the punishment.”

Connor frowned. “You were advocating for yourself. Saying how wrong being treated like a girl felt. The beatings were not necessary.”

A silence lulled and Connor spoke again, “I really do think you should pick up another hobby though. Even if you don’t have a lot of money, you could always go running or even just invest in a punching bag. Something to get these deeper feelings out in a healthier way.” He half-forced a smile. “I’d personally strongly recommend therapy, but I know you wouldn’t be interested in that.”

Daniel gave a half-smile back. “I appreciate you trying to look out for me. I really do. Not…not many people have done that in my life. But I don’t mind all the little bruises and shit and having to get patched up every now and then. It’s…it’s better than cutting myself up or haphazardly sleeping around with whoever will have me like I used to. This is the safe option for me. I can handle it.”

Connor let the conversation drop there, seeing Daniel’s stubbornness take hold and knowing - from experience - that there was absolutely no way to change his mind once he started insisting on his way. Though, the brunet couldn’t shake the feeling that the blond’s statement felt a lot like famous last words. 

Chapter Text

It was only a few weeks later when Daniel stumbled in through the door again. Connor looked over at the noise and was immediately on edge at how unusually pale the blond was. 

A pained, blue-eyed gaze sought out the brunet with a silent desperation. When he knew he had the other’s attention, Daniel pulled his prized leather jacket open and spoke in a weak, strained voice, “I need help…”

Seeing the dark, damp patch surrounding a new hole in the side of his shirt, Connor immediately rushed over. He barely had to look at the bloody mess before his wide-eyed gaze snapped up to Daniel’s face and words were rushing out of his mouth, “Did you- Did you get stabbed?!”

Daniel groaned in pain. “Almost. Just cut. Fucking hurts..”

“Yeah…” Conor looked up, alarmed. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

Daniel shook his head. “No. No hospital.”

The brunet stood his ground. “You need it, Daniel.”

The blond stubbornly shook his head again. “No… You can fix me…”

Connor sighed. “I can’t fix a deep wound, Danny. We’re going to the hospital.”

Daniel opened his mouth to protest, but Connor grabbed the blond’s upper arms to convey his seriousness and spoke before he could, a hint of softness lacing his voice, “I know you don’t like them and phobias are hard to face, but you need urgent medical attention and I can’t give you that. You need real doctors and treatment and maybe a transfusion.”

Proving just how bad the situation was, Daniel did something wildly uncharacteristic of him - he let tears freely run down his cheeks. 

His broken voice was but a fearful whisper. “I don’t wanna die.”

Connor’s grip on the other tightened reassuringly. “You’re not going to die. I just need you to let me help you. And that means going to the hospital.”

Daniel whimpered. “Fine. I trust you.”

Connor smiled. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Daniel nodded. By time he was able to make it back to the door, Connor had run off and returned with an old towel. He instructed the blond to hold it to his side and Daniel yelped as he was scooped into Connor’s arms. 

The brunet rushed them downstairs to his car and they made their way to the hospital as fast as they legally could. Between Daniel’s whimpers and cries the whole way there however, Connor couldn’t help but feel guilty for making him seek proper medical attention. The blond needed it, of course, but seeing how afraid it made him hurt Connor deep down. 

They made it to the hospital after a ride that felt exponentially longer than it really was. Connor got out first and half helped Daniel walk, half carried him into the building. Everything was a blur as staff surrounded them and the next thing they knew, they were in an Emergency Room bay.  Nurses and doctors were moving all around them and examining Daniel and helping him out of his jacket and shirt to get a better look at the wound and the blond was rapidly growing increasingly agitated. 

Flinching away from all the touches turned to fully cowering away from everyone who got near him to fearfully and forcefully shoving away a nurse who tried to start an IV line. As he trembled and sobbed into the crook of Connor’s neck - they were sat facing each other on the exam bed, Daniel having needed the proximity the second they were brought into the room - the way the medical staff approached Daniel had to be reassessed. 

It had been Connor who spoke up as he soothingly rubbed the blond’s back, mentioning Daniel’s doctor and needle phobias and that they’d have to take things slower for him to cooperate. There simply hadn’t been time to relay the information earlier and, at this point, it was crucial. 

In the end, they settled on skipping the IV and just examining the wound itself, deeming it safer for everyone involved. It didn’t take much to know it would definitely need stitches and some careful probing revealed that it luckily hadn’t been deep enough to do any serious damage. 

Daniel had calmed a good bit as everyone slowed down and only hands prodded at him, his tears stopping and breaths deep and shaky but no longer crazed. He adamantly refused the numbing injections to make the stitches easier, claiming the stitches couldn’t hurt anymore than the gash already did. 

However, when a nurse returned with a suture kit and he got sight of the needle, his anxiety and fear skyrocketed back up. 

Daniel was borderline hysterical, tears running down his cheeks once more and voice pitched up in panic. “No, no, no, please, I don’t want that fucking thing. Don’t let it fucking near me. Please, I don’t want it. Fuck. Please. No, please.”

The pain showed in Connor’s face as he spoke, “I’m sorry Daniel, they need to take care of you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Daniel shook his head. “Nuh uh, no. Don’t want it.”

Connor cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry Danny.”

He brushed blond hair back and stared into teary eyes. The action seemed to significantly calm the other, borderline hysteria reduced to an expression that begged for help, as if Connor alone could rescue him and provide him a life of comfort. 

The brunet quirked a smile at the vulnerability and, despite the circumstances, everything somehow felt right as he leaned forward and pressed their lips together. 

Daniel trembled before weakly kissing back. A hand brushed through his hair and settled on the nape of his neck, bringing the blond back to reality enough to return the kiss with a long held back passion. He let out a whine as they parted, drunk on the contact and craving more. 

Foreheads pressed together, Connor spoke softly. “Focus on me Danny. Let them work and only focus on me.”

He threaded the fingers of his right hand with those of Daniel’s left so the blond couldn’t easily push the nurse away. He guided the other’s free hand to rest on his chest, trapping it between their bodies, and brought his own to tangle back in blond hair. 

Daniel’s eyes darted towards the nurse again and Connor knew he had to do more. 

“Hey, eyes over here. Focus on me, Baby. Focus on me.” He smiled as Daniel did as told. “That’s it, good boy, keep looking at me. Just look at me and don’t look away.” He slowly leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Daniel’s lips. 

The blond chased the kiss, deepening it until the pressure began to hurt. Connor lightly pulled at his hair as he backed away the tiniest bit, making him take things slow. 

With a soft whine, Daniel calmed into a long kiss that conveyed all their unspoken emotions. It was full of fondness, care, affection, and a love that had taken a while to play its platonic roots but had quickly grown into something more. It was a kiss that neither wanted to end but was broken as Daniel flinched hard, the first stitch in his side having been made. 

Connor tightened his grip on the other’s hand, sending reassurance and grounding him through the touch. He pressed their foreheads together and whispered. “You’re okay. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I gotcha.”

The fingertips of Daniel’s free hand dug into the fabric of Connor’s shirt. Sounds refused to form in his mouth, so he pleaded with a fearful expression that didn’t need to use words to convey his message. It hurts. Help. 

Connor ran his hand soothingly through blond hair, his voice gentle, “Hey, I mean it. You’ll be okay. Just a little longer.” He sealed their lips back together in another kiss and felt Daniel whimper against him as another stitch was made. A few more sutures followed only to be stopped as Daniel broke the kiss nearly hyperventilating. 

“I-I can’t- Connor-“ Scared blue eyes welled with unshed tears. 

The brunet gave the other’s hand another reassuring squeeze. “Yes, you can. You’ve been doing so good. Just a little more and you’ll be all done. You can do it.”

Daniel held eye contact for a second longer before his gaze started darting around the room. Whether he was looking for threats or an escape route was impossible to tell. 

“Hey, stop doing that. Look at me.” Connor moved his hand from Daniel’s hair to cup his cheek. If reassurances and physical touch weren’t calming him, then maybe a mental distraction would be better. 

Heat rose on the brunet’s cheeks before he voiced the words he’d thought dozens of times, “I love you.” He smiled his sweet, dorky smile. 

Daniel’s fear fell away as he blinked and slowly processed the words. “You… what..?”

“I love you, Daniel. I know you have a lifetime of trauma and accepting love - especially when it’s love for who you are - is probably hard for you, but we’ve been living together for nearly a year and I can’t imagine living without you now. You’re so much more than the loud, rule breaking, sex-obsessed punk you seemed like at the beginning.” Connor grinned. “You’d never admit it, but you’re a sweetheart. And, as much as you call me a nerd, you’re also one. You have all sorts of cute guilty pleasures that you’d kill me for saying in public and you’re a great cook and you have trust issues to hell and back but somehow I gained that trust. And that’s how I know you care about me too.”

Daniel blushed and averted eye contact, just for his gaze to be redirected back to Connor. He huffed a breath and fondly rolled his eyes before responding, “You’re cute, okay? You’re hot and have that smile that makes my heart do flips and you know shit about everything.” He gave a breathy laugh. “Never thought random fun facts would be a turn on, but here we are.”

Connor’s thumb stroked over the hand it was holding. “Then my observations were right? You care about- love me too?”

Daniel looked away almost shamefully. “I- I can’t say those words. They won’t mean anything if I say them. I need- I need more time. An actual relationship. I need to know what it’s like before I can say them. I want to, it’s just…I’ve been forced to say it before and I want this to be true.”

Connor gave a soft smile. “That’s okay. You’ve been through a lot. I understand if those words are hard for you to say.”

Daniel gave a small, appreciative smile back. “Guess there’s a couple more reasons I have to add to why you’re hot.”

Connor’s brow furrowed at the change in direction. “Hm?”

“You’re not manipulating me. Most of my exes just found a way to make me say it. Respect is hot. Also you’re a good kisser. That was fun to learn too.” Daniel grinned. 

The expression was contagious and Connor found a wide smile spreading across his lips before they kissed again, clumsy and awkward as they smiled and giggled. When they calmed, it morphed into a proper kiss, just the right amount of pressure as their lips slid together. 

Pulling away, Connor gave a proud, satisfied smile. “All done.”

Daniel’s response of absolute confusion punched a laugh out of the brunet. 

“They’re done. No more stitches.” He released Daniel’s hand and nodded at the nurse standing nearby. 

“Oh.” Daniel looked down at his side, row of neat stitches tied off. 

Connor chuckled at the other’s obliviousness. “I think they just need to go over some stuff with you and we’ll be good to go.”

Hope shining in his eyes, Daniel turned to the nurse.

She gave a polite smile. “He’s mostly right. I need to bandage the area and then you’ll be done. Just make sure to keep it dry, don’t exert yourself, and come back in a few weeks to have the stitches removed.” She nodded towards her tray of supplies. “Do you mind if I finish up now?”

Daniel glanced over at the tray, sharps set aside and dressings laid out. “Uh, y-yeah. Sure, go ahead.”

The nurse got to work bandaging the wound and Daniel’s attention turned back to Connor. 

The brunet kissed his cheek. “You’re so lucky it was a shallow wound. I mean- I hate that you got hurt at all, but at least the wound isn’t too deep so you didn’t need real surgery.” Connor tried his luck at easing into a joke with a lighthearted grin. “I’d hate to see how freaked out you’d get if you had to have an IV in.”

Daniel scrunched his face in disgust. “Don’t even mention those things. I fucking hate them so much. Had to be fucking tied down and sedated last time to keep from ripping it out. If they kept trying, I probably would be unconscious right now after throwing punches or knocking someone else out first.”

Connor shuddered at the thought. He brushed Daniel’s hair back and kissed his forehead before helping him back into his clothes. “Well, let’s get you home now. You need to rest and recover.”

The ensuing discharge paperwork took twice as long as Daniel had the patience for and then some. He was back to being snappy and blowing through conversation before they knew it, impatiently nodding along to probably-important information and signing everything put in front of him. 

Connor couldn’t help but smile as they got home and Daniel’s tough exterior fell. As soon as the blond was through the door, his shoulders slumped and he took off his leather jacket for what felt like the twentieth time that day. 

His voice was a hardly audible mumble as he complained, “I’m tired.”

Connor fondly offered a solution, “Want to go take a nap?”

A faint blush painted pale cheeks. “Want you.”

Connor gladly took the opportunity to get them settled on the couch. He sat in the corner and let Daniel lay against him. 

The blond got himself as comfortable as he could with a fresh row of stitches. If anyone would have told him that morning that he’d be lying in Connor’s arms before dinner, he would have called them a stupid fucking liar. 

Yet here he was. 

Daniel was lying on the couch, snuggled against Connor and only sinking further into him as lethargy set in. While he hadn’t lost enough blood for a transfusion to be crucial - and would have protested it even if it was - he still lost enough to feel the effects of it now that the adrenaline of being injured and facing his phobias was wearing off. 

Looking up at the brunet, he studied each feature of him as best as he could, giving his entirety a new appreciation. 

A grin slid across Daniel’s face as something dawned on him. “You kissed me.”

Connor softly chuckled. “I did.” Amusement showed in his expression. “Several times.”

There was an odd shyness to Daniel’s words as he spoke again, as if he were embarrassed to say them. “You’re…not too bad, you know?”

“Hm? At what?” Connor’s brow furrowed in confusion. 

Daniel shrugged. “Everything? You’re pretty hot, you patched me up, you’re a good kisser. All that.”

Connor raised an amused eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. When…when’d you start…” he trailed off as he blushed, “liking me?”

Connor considered it. “I’m not sure. I just got used to patching you up and caring about your well being and I just…started noticing all the little things about you. I guess fondness turned to attraction over time.”

Daniel smiled. “Couldn’t resist the charm of someone whose life is always in peril?”

“Oh yeah. Wondering if I’ll see my roommate dead on the news or while on duty is such a turn on.” Sarcasm dripped from the brunet’s words. 

Daniel huffed a laugh. “You know, if I knew almost getting stabbed would land me a boyfriend, I would have done it months ago.”

Shock and concern took over Connor’s face. “Please don’t say that. I don’t want to see any more injuries on you. It’s been stressful enough as is.”

Daniel gave a half grin. “No promises.”

Connor’s voice bordered on desperation, “Please? I’ve had enough worrying over you. I don’t like questioning if you’ll come back to me in one piece or not.”

The blond huffed a breath, embarrassment burning at his cheeks over the thought of someone caring about him so much. 

Connor’s next words were fully intended to be wishful thinking, a joke of a fantasy scenario that was far too far fetched to happen in reality. He brushed Daniel’s hair away from his face as he looked down at him as he spoke, “Can’t you just replace bruises with kisses? I’d gladly snuggle all day if it’d keep you safe.”

It was wildly unexpected that Daniel actually seemed to consider the offer, voice hesitant as he weighed the pros and cons in his head, “Unlimited snuggle card? I could have all the affection I want?”

Connor blinked at the turn of events. “Well, yeah. I’d love to give you hugs and kisses and all that.”

A small smile spread across the blond’s face. “We could try that.”

A matching smile found its way to Connor’s lips, his shock fading. “Really?”

Daniel nodded against the other’s side. “Yeah. I…haven’t had much affection so I’m not sure it would work, but we could try.”

Connor softly laughed. “Gosh, you’re such a cuddle bug.”

Daniel laughed back. “And you’re such a dork for saying things like gosh .”

Connor grinned. “But you love it.”

Daniel snuggled closer just to prove the other’s point. “But I love it.”