Danny is easy to read. Alex knows his tells, the small ones and the obvious ones.

Danny is an enigma, too.

For Alex, Danny is utterly incomprehensible. Like, their very first meeting on the bridge, when Alex asked and Danny answered. The words were a lie, but his body was telling the truth without trying to hide anything. This is Danny's way of pretending. If you listen, he lies. But watch, and Danny will show you the truth.

Alex lies. And somehow, Danny understands. Alex needs to lie.

And Alex wants to tell the truth. But Alex is selfish.

He wants to lose himself in the warm embrace of Danny's arms. He wants to become more than himself under the attention and care of Danny's hands and lips. When their bodies move in unison, when he comes; laid bare for Danny to see; unleashing himself and taking, receiving, holding on to every single moment of their time together.

Because Danny understands. Danny knows. And still, Danny stays.

Open, vulnerable, innocent.

Cautious, guarded.

Wicked, even, Alex thinks, his mind drifting to their first night together. As always, his face is a mask only Danny can decipher. The smile he returns tells Alex that Danny knows.

Alex knows. He knows what will happen tomorrow. Tonight, maybe, if they work fast. And he should tell Danny. Should tell him to hide, to lie, to give up on Alex.

Danny is easy to read. Alex knows his tells.

But Alex is selfish, too selfish to leave Danny. Too selfish, to tell Danny to leave. Alex wants to see Danny's smile, feel Danny's lips, even if it is just a small peck; wants to bathe in the warmth of Danny's glance.

For once, Danny believes Alex's lie. And Alex turns up the radio.