Sports Night fic!
Jan. 21st, 2009 08:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
slinklingHot damn, this makes three Things in three Weeks. I think I may have rediscovered my mojo.
Title: Periwinkle
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
slinkling
Fandom: Sports Night
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1100 words
Notes: Forroxymissrose, who prompted me with "Sports Night, Casey/Dan: Casey watches Dan and wonders." Beta'd by kassrachel, who is mighty.
***
Periwinkle
The first time the possibility occurs to Casey is a few months after he and Dan have started working together. Of all the random things, it’s Dan’s socks that make him wonder. Pale purplish-blue socks. Which are a perfect match for Dan’s pale purplish-blue tie. Which, in turn, makes Dan’s eyes look brighter. And Casey gets stuck in this weird internal loop, starting with What kind of guy matches his socks to his tie? And in that shade? progressing to Knock it off, McCall, he’s in sports, and what kind of assumption is that to make, anyway? and then moving to But what kind of a guy NOTICES another guy’s socks matching his tie? before circling back to But couldn’t that mean something? That his socks match his tie? He can’t stop staring at Dan’s ankle, and he’s not sure how much time passes before Dan waves a hand in front of his face.
“Casey? You still with me?”
Casey jerks out of his reverie. “Your socks match your tie,” he says, his mouth working a few seconds ahead of his brain.
Dan studies him for a beat, then shrugs. “That’s why they call me Dapper Dan.”
“They call you Dapper Dan?”
“Not yet, but I'm hoping it will catch on.”
And then there’s nothing Casey can do but smirk and shake his head, and go back to analyzing the Packers game.
---
In the months that follow, Casey starts noticing all sorts of things. Dan has very elegant hands. Dan seems totally comfortable touching other guys – pats on the back, a jokey nudge to the ribs, all still plausibly manly. When Jeanine, one of the assistant producers, shows up in a new sweater, Dan doesn’t just tell her she looks good, he says, “That’s a great color on you,” which Casey wouldn’t even know how to determine.
He tells himself he’s being ridiculous. That none of this is in any way conclusive, that admiring a woman’s sweater should if anything be taken as proof that Dan is heterosexual, and that, regardless, Casey is himself heterosexual, so the whole question is moot. And then, as they’re coming out of a rundown meeting one afternoon, he catches Dan humming a song that sounds familiar, but he can’t quite place it.
“What is that?” he asks.
“It’s on the Lilith Fair cd,” Dan says.
Casey blinks. “The Lilith Fair?”
“I'm a sensitive new-age guy, Casey.”
“Since when?”
Dan only winks at him, then turns into the editing room. Casey’s left in the hallway, looking at a closed door.
---
He and Lisa go out for dinner with Dan and some woman they’ll never see again. While they’re driving home, Lisa says, “She seems like a nice enough girl. Poor thing.”
Casey frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Lisa looks at him like he’s stupid. “You honestly don’t know?”
He hates that tone she gets. “Dan is my friend,” he says.
“Sure, Dan’s your friend. You’re such good friends you’ve never noticed he’s gay.”
Casey stifles his impulse to punch the air and shout “I KNEW IT!” Instead he says, “What makes you say that? Did he tell you?”
“I just have a feeling,” she says, like that settles everything, but Casey wants to groan. Lisa had a feeling his last co-anchor was gay, and the guy was very emphatically not. She also thought Casey was gay when she met him. Which, of course, he is not. He stares out the windshield, more confused than ever.
---
Years pass. Casey and Lisa divorce. Casey and Dan move to Sports Night. Dan continues to have elegant hands, and a keen sense of style, and a way of getting into Casey’s personal space that is like the longest, slowest tease in the history of seduction. Dan goes out with a lot of women, but never for very long, and after having a few drinks he’ll throw an arm around Casey’s shoulders and say he’d rather hang out with Casey than any woman he’s ever met. Casey’s whole body warms to the contact, while his brain is still churning through What does this mean? Does he like guys? Do I? And it takes a great effort of will to act casual, to tousle Dan’s hair and say, “Are you calling me a woman?” with a little laugh in his voice, like there’s no tension here, just buddies, that’s all.
Some days Casey feels disgusted with himself. Dan is his best friend, and they’ve been close for years, they’ve talked about everything except this one thing, and surely, if there were any chance that Dan was into Casey – or guys in general, this really isn’t about Casey specifically – the subject would have come up. Though it’s not like Casey’s mentioned it either. But Casey is, of course, straight, so there’s nothing to mention. He needs to just let it go.
And often, letting it go doesn’t seem that hard. Because the easy camaraderie he has with Dan is good, it’s great, and for weeks at a time he can be happy with that. It’s comfortable. He and Dan fit together. Two straight men. Best friends. No problem.
But then Dan will tell him his tie is crooked, and will come in close to fix it for him, and Casey can smell his breath, and Dan’s fingers make little spots of heat at Casey’s throat. And Dan will smile up at him and give him a pat on the chest before stepping away, and Casey feels a weird tugging inside, like he’s supposed to follow, but he doesn’t know how. And an hour later Dan comes to Casey’s desk to read the script he’s working on, leaning over him, his hand resting on Casey’s shoulder while the nearness of him electrifies Casey’s back, and the words swim before Casey’s eyes. And a couple hours after that they’re eating dinner together, and Casey still hasn’t come down from before, and he watches the way Dan’s lips close around the rim of his beer bottle, watches Dan’s throat when he tips his head back and swallows, and Casey envisions himself grabbing Dan’s face in both hands and kissing him. He imagines pushing Dan up against a wall, pressing their bodies together. He doesn’t know what he’d do next but he’s pretty sure he’d figure something out, and it would be intense, because they’ve been leading up to it slowly for the last nine years.
Except that Casey is straight. And so, as far as he knows, is Dan. So he just drinks his own beer, and makes a quip about the Yankees lineup, and waits for some kind of unmistakable sign.
***
Title: Periwinkle
Author:
slinklingFandom: Sports Night
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1100 words
Notes: For
roxymissrose, who prompted me with "Sports Night, Casey/Dan: Casey watches Dan and wonders." Beta'd by kassrachel, who is mighty.***
Periwinkle
The first time the possibility occurs to Casey is a few months after he and Dan have started working together. Of all the random things, it’s Dan’s socks that make him wonder. Pale purplish-blue socks. Which are a perfect match for Dan’s pale purplish-blue tie. Which, in turn, makes Dan’s eyes look brighter. And Casey gets stuck in this weird internal loop, starting with What kind of guy matches his socks to his tie? And in that shade? progressing to Knock it off, McCall, he’s in sports, and what kind of assumption is that to make, anyway? and then moving to But what kind of a guy NOTICES another guy’s socks matching his tie? before circling back to But couldn’t that mean something? That his socks match his tie? He can’t stop staring at Dan’s ankle, and he’s not sure how much time passes before Dan waves a hand in front of his face.
“Casey? You still with me?”
Casey jerks out of his reverie. “Your socks match your tie,” he says, his mouth working a few seconds ahead of his brain.
Dan studies him for a beat, then shrugs. “That’s why they call me Dapper Dan.”
“They call you Dapper Dan?”
“Not yet, but I'm hoping it will catch on.”
And then there’s nothing Casey can do but smirk and shake his head, and go back to analyzing the Packers game.
---
In the months that follow, Casey starts noticing all sorts of things. Dan has very elegant hands. Dan seems totally comfortable touching other guys – pats on the back, a jokey nudge to the ribs, all still plausibly manly. When Jeanine, one of the assistant producers, shows up in a new sweater, Dan doesn’t just tell her she looks good, he says, “That’s a great color on you,” which Casey wouldn’t even know how to determine.
He tells himself he’s being ridiculous. That none of this is in any way conclusive, that admiring a woman’s sweater should if anything be taken as proof that Dan is heterosexual, and that, regardless, Casey is himself heterosexual, so the whole question is moot. And then, as they’re coming out of a rundown meeting one afternoon, he catches Dan humming a song that sounds familiar, but he can’t quite place it.
“What is that?” he asks.
“It’s on the Lilith Fair cd,” Dan says.
Casey blinks. “The Lilith Fair?”
“I'm a sensitive new-age guy, Casey.”
“Since when?”
Dan only winks at him, then turns into the editing room. Casey’s left in the hallway, looking at a closed door.
---
He and Lisa go out for dinner with Dan and some woman they’ll never see again. While they’re driving home, Lisa says, “She seems like a nice enough girl. Poor thing.”
Casey frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Lisa looks at him like he’s stupid. “You honestly don’t know?”
He hates that tone she gets. “Dan is my friend,” he says.
“Sure, Dan’s your friend. You’re such good friends you’ve never noticed he’s gay.”
Casey stifles his impulse to punch the air and shout “I KNEW IT!” Instead he says, “What makes you say that? Did he tell you?”
“I just have a feeling,” she says, like that settles everything, but Casey wants to groan. Lisa had a feeling his last co-anchor was gay, and the guy was very emphatically not. She also thought Casey was gay when she met him. Which, of course, he is not. He stares out the windshield, more confused than ever.
---
Years pass. Casey and Lisa divorce. Casey and Dan move to Sports Night. Dan continues to have elegant hands, and a keen sense of style, and a way of getting into Casey’s personal space that is like the longest, slowest tease in the history of seduction. Dan goes out with a lot of women, but never for very long, and after having a few drinks he’ll throw an arm around Casey’s shoulders and say he’d rather hang out with Casey than any woman he’s ever met. Casey’s whole body warms to the contact, while his brain is still churning through What does this mean? Does he like guys? Do I? And it takes a great effort of will to act casual, to tousle Dan’s hair and say, “Are you calling me a woman?” with a little laugh in his voice, like there’s no tension here, just buddies, that’s all.
Some days Casey feels disgusted with himself. Dan is his best friend, and they’ve been close for years, they’ve talked about everything except this one thing, and surely, if there were any chance that Dan was into Casey – or guys in general, this really isn’t about Casey specifically – the subject would have come up. Though it’s not like Casey’s mentioned it either. But Casey is, of course, straight, so there’s nothing to mention. He needs to just let it go.
And often, letting it go doesn’t seem that hard. Because the easy camaraderie he has with Dan is good, it’s great, and for weeks at a time he can be happy with that. It’s comfortable. He and Dan fit together. Two straight men. Best friends. No problem.
But then Dan will tell him his tie is crooked, and will come in close to fix it for him, and Casey can smell his breath, and Dan’s fingers make little spots of heat at Casey’s throat. And Dan will smile up at him and give him a pat on the chest before stepping away, and Casey feels a weird tugging inside, like he’s supposed to follow, but he doesn’t know how. And an hour later Dan comes to Casey’s desk to read the script he’s working on, leaning over him, his hand resting on Casey’s shoulder while the nearness of him electrifies Casey’s back, and the words swim before Casey’s eyes. And a couple hours after that they’re eating dinner together, and Casey still hasn’t come down from before, and he watches the way Dan’s lips close around the rim of his beer bottle, watches Dan’s throat when he tips his head back and swallows, and Casey envisions himself grabbing Dan’s face in both hands and kissing him. He imagines pushing Dan up against a wall, pressing their bodies together. He doesn’t know what he’d do next but he’s pretty sure he’d figure something out, and it would be intense, because they’ve been leading up to it slowly for the last nine years.
Except that Casey is straight. And so, as far as he knows, is Dan. So he just drinks his own beer, and makes a quip about the Yankees lineup, and waits for some kind of unmistakable sign.
***
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-01-21 01:48 pm (UTC)That's such a poignant image, and so telling. Poor Casey.
I love this! And I can't help hoping that just offscreen, sometime very shortly after this story ends, Casey gets the sign he needs. (Which is maybe Dan making a move, himself, because he is tired of waiting for Casey to figure it out. *g*)
no subject
Date: 2009-01-22 09:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-21 02:29 pm (UTC)I'd beI *am* just like Casey - I need to be bonked over the head to believe that someone could like me that way. :)Keep writing these! I don't even care what fandom they are in, I'm just enjoying them!
no subject
Date: 2009-01-22 09:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-21 10:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-22 09:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-22 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-26 04:43 pm (UTC)Oh my heart! Poor boys!
This was wonderful! I loved Casey's discussion with himself about the socks, and how the story becomes all about yearning and denial. Thanks so much--there's such a sad lack of SP, and this made me smile!
no subject
Date: 2009-03-06 03:13 pm (UTC)