Title: Ficcie
By: alucardskitten
Pairing: one-sided Danny Messer/ Mac Taylor
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

***

He spends his nights counting dots on the ceiling... because he can't sleep. One by one, he counts them down to where he is sure he almost has them all counted. Ticking by, they swarm in his vision... they haunt him as he stares. It's creepy, almost surreal. But he can't look away. He can't stop counting them. It's the only thing that keeps him sane late into the night when sleep threatens to take over and the first shreds of a nightmare creep into his mind. Then the dots blur and become something else. He can almost see faces formed in the dots, laughing at him. His parents and siblings, his co-workers. Especially his co-workers. His quality is slipping. His job performance started steadily decreasing when all of a sudden he was plagued by nightmares and had resorted to counting dots on the ceiling and drinking coffee to stay awake. Of course *they* wouldn't understand. But tonight he had a respite from his dots. Tonight... he had someone by his side to keep the nightmares away. He didn't even know his name, he only knew he was young and too smart to be doing what he was doing. They had talked, for quite a bit, before he had finally offered him home. The steady breathing next to him kept him occupied as he counted each exhalation. Just another crutch to lean on... just another thing to keep his mind off the inevitable. That he needed to sleep or he would die. He closed his eyes, waiting for those nightmares... but none came that night.

And it became a tradition now. Every night he'd go to a different bar and pick up a different guy. And soon he started choosing guys that looked like the object of his affection... his subordinate that he could never tell. At first it was just the blonde hair thing... and then blue eyes... and then glasses. And he found about a thousand guys who could almost be his twin but the shades in their hair were different... the glasses were strange... the eyes weren't quite as blue. And every time he took one home, he kept trying to build them into something perfect, something he *really* wanted... and they never were. Their body would be slightly different... to thin or too cushy. But it was SOMETHING... something aside from dots on his ceiling that blurred with sleep and time. And he was getting better, back on par, back in the game. But now he never worked with *him*. When he even looked at him he felt dirty, dirty for trying to place people in his image. For letting these boys who looked a bit like him fuck him and pretend to love him. He felt dirty for even looking at him now.

But these guys he took home, they didn't mind anymore. He didn't mind anymore. He'd let them fuck him and he'd call out a name softly, so softly it was almost inaudible. And he never screamed... he never did anything more than let out a small grunt when he climaxed... he never fucked the boys he brought home. Because that he would save forever for the one he loved. His precious Danny.

***