>>29164
Awesome.

< And I know it's not really porn, but it's one of my favorites.

>>29164 oh hey there bitey mcbitersons :D

have a little japan, too.

>>29194
What is this I don't even.

>>29194
I...don't get it? What exactly is going on in this picture?

>>29227
Well, Rorschach is dressed up as a woman from little house on the prairie.
And judging by the look on his face Dan appears to be molesting him.
But why?

>>29332

Where did this cyberpunk fad come from?

>>29359
More like Gaga-fag fad.

...sheesh, 15?

Well you guys have been busy.

(so...kink!meme fanart? High school kids? Imp!stach? Zombie!stach? Crossovers? Meme needs more art.)

What's this highschool AU I keep on hearing about?

It's a fic from the kinkmeme. Everyone's in highschool. I think it started with them putting on a play or something. Maybe Les Mis. Or Phantom. They do Phantom at some point. And right now Dan, Walter and Laurie are in a band. And a threesome. And there is also cute Eddie/Adrian and teacher!Hollis/Sally.

I have no idea where the begining of it is though. Have part 125 with sexy post-gig threesome?
http://spam-monster.livejournal.com/3498.html?thread=9043626#t9043626

Here's all the parts to the High School AU...
http://community.livejournal.com/watchfic_dir/36069.html

>>29384
That's... insane.
I'll go read it right now.

>>28801>>28823>>28833

Caped for epic win.

>>29552

lol it's a fukkin age-progression timeline. awesome.

Here /coq/, have some vintage Watchmen fanart.

>>29900

I love how you can't tell if Rorschach has been making out with Dan's face or his belly

>>29900

that was so fracking hilarious I snorted out boogers!

This comic just got a bajillion times cooler now

>>29590

no it's a less-OOC progression timeline

>>29924
Who's the sideburns guy? His character design is seriously amazing.

>>30349
I'm curious about this too, and the artist's DA seems to be missing.

>>30349
Inspector Javert from Les Miserable.

>>30676


I've always wondered what the OWLCAR looked like. The source book did mention Dan having an owl mobile. By the by, does anyone know Dan's middle name? It starts with an M is all I know.

>>30766

Considering who Dan is and how much of a super cool guy he is (read: fucking dork), I have to figure the M stands for something really awesome (read: really ridiculous).

Here's some good names:
Marlon
Marshall
Milton
Milford
Murray
Madison
Malcolm
Miller

>>30781

My money's on Mordecai.

>>30766
Something REALLY Jewish sounding, like Moshe.

>>30781

Minx? Dohohoho

>>29699
From the thumbnail I thought that was Pyramid Head/Rorschach.

>>30787

What I think is kinda funny, though probably totally unrelated, is that the Comedian's middle name also starts with an M.

>>30895
If Dan's middle name is something dorky and Jewish, the Comedian's middle name is 'Motherfucker'.

>>30897
More like 'Motherfuckerthenkillerthenraperofherdeadbody'...

>>30676
"Daniel. We are losing them..."
"They can't outrun us forever! This baby tops out at 20 mph!"

>>30676

RORSCHACH: *ngh* Having hand there... distracting.

DANIEL: I'm just trying to keep your adrenaline maxed! *smug smirk*

>>31125

Is japan reading hookerfic now? Because that would be awesome. And I will hope for reverse-weeaboo bomber jacket.

>>31150
WHERE IS THE REST OF THE HOOKERFIC? I stopped reading after Daniel wraps Walter up in a scarf, new coat, and gloves and goes out to FIGHT CRIME *fade to black*

>>31171

You. Shame. Here is the rest of hookerfic, now go to your room and don't come out until you're finished.

http://spam-monster.livejournal.com/2938.html?thread=7889018#t7889018

I finally stumbled upon liodain's stuff, and my first reaction was the very intelligent OM NOM NOM NOM.

No, but really, she's awesome.

http://liodain.livejournal.com/26178.html

Dan: Don't get mad!
Rorschach: Wha..?
Dan: You're injured, right? It'll be faster if I carry you!
Rorschach: Arm! Not leg!

Dan, king of subtlety.

>>31649
Nothing about this is subtle.

I mean, for God's sake, his BULGE IS SHINY.

Double Dan Duty.

>>31819
This is never not gonna be hot, I swear.

>>31819

looks like Japan has read lio's fic
hallelujah

>>32077

There is nothing sexier than a Ror with a 'sucky' face

>>31819
It's actually Dan x Rorschach x Police Office from one of the author's doujin. Still hot though.

So I read 'when Sick Wolf met Thinks Ahead', and it was great, and now I want to read the rest of the Ghost Rat AU.

Link please?

>>32703

http://community.livejournal.com/watchfic_dir/203525.html

Tomorrow's Rorschach's birthday! What are you going to get him, anons?

>>33362
D'aw...
I found this Birthday personality profile thinks, and I thought this was interesting XD

Your personal ruling planets are Mars and Jupiter.

You are a giver. You are a traveller and no doubt a person with high aspirations looking for power and meaning in your life. But what a mystery! In your life often the fulfilment you are frantically searching for is where you least expect it - in your own home. It is like the man who is looking for his glasses, which are all the while on his head.

If you can curb your temper and redirect some of these powerful energies, you will certainly achieve and fulfil your destiny.

Your lucky colours are yellow, lemon and sandy shades.

Your lucky gems are yellow sapphire, citrine quartz and golden topaz.

Your lucky days of the week are Thursday, Tuesday and Sunday.

Your lucky numbers and years of important change are 3, 12, 21, 30, 39, 48, 57 , 66, 75.

Famous people born on your birthday include Otis Spann, Gary Oldman, J.S. Bach, Matthew Broderick and Rosie O'Donnell.

>>33362
I want to print this out and tape it to the inside of my locker. P.S. I am in fifth grade.

>>33434
Shit just got shoujo. I would kill for a translation.

>>33434
R: the gift is nice..
You're always doing your best for me, that's enough, but..
But, no matter what...
I want to kiss your cute lips...
D: Rorscach...

ew I hope that's a joke haha.

New? old? Eh, still really hot

>>33494

UNF UNF DAT RORCHEST.

Speaking of old, who remembers this?

>>33530
The real question is who could forget

>>33541

It looks like Quentin Blake drew Rorschach as a four-eyed alien and Dan as Miss Piggy

>>33530
Oh, me. Lovely!

>>33638
wait, is that a bad thing?
Miss Piggy is fierce is all I'm saying

dat. ass.

>>33974

>>33974

so much for purple suit and wife beater...

>>33998

>>34253
haha, nice.

Happy Easter!

It's the height of summer, and the city clings to the heat of the daytime sun long into the neon-painted evenings. Rorschach has even left his trench coat behind, and tonight he's a blaze of pinstripe and dress-shirt as he drops another punk to the asphalt.

Even having made a concession to the weather, it still makes Dan sweat to look at him. He's got to be wearing a couple of layers still: a suit, shirt, vest and an undershirt, if he knows him as well as he thinks he does (as much as anyone can know him) - plus the fedora and the leather gloves /and/ that goddamn latex mask.

"Aren't you hot?" he says, panting lightly as he cuffs a couple of ko'd gang members to a lamp post. He feels kind of light-headed himself, and he's only wearing a single layer of Kevlar. His uniform doesn't breathe all that well.

A grunt from Rorschach, and a tilt of his head that Dan has learned to interpret. You're right, it means, but I'll never admit it. He adjusts the cuffs of his suit jacket, clearly conscious of Dan's scrutiny.

The horizon is brightening, silver seeping up into the deep sky, heralding the end of their night's work.

"Tomorrow, then," Rorschach says, touching the brim of his hat in farewell. He turns and takes a few paces before Dan speaks up.

"Hey," he says. "Come back to mine."

Rorschach turns abruptly, and the patterns on his mask judder and swirl. Dan realizes with burning embarrassment that it sounds like he is propositioning him. He's never really invited Rorschach back before; the guy usually just follows him home like a stray cat, eats Dan's leftover takeout while complaining about foreign food, then slinks off to wherever he came from.

"Um," he says, because actually it /was/ a proposition, whether he wants to admit it or not. "I mean, it's been crazy weather and I have a couple beers on ice and..."

Rorschach interrupts him. "I don't drink, Daniel."

"Well, yeah, I know that." Dan rubs the back of his neck and laughs. "Okay, forget I said anything. See you tomorrow night, man."

"Ehn," Rorschach says, and in a couple of strides he's abreast with Dan again. "Not interested in the beer, but..." He clears his throat. "Would appreciate use of your shower, if it wouldn't be an imposition."

"Not at all," Dan says, and manages to stop his grin getting too stupid.

#

Dan watches the dawn break from the comfortable vantage of his living room couch, soft pink-gold light spilling through the windows and brushing the floor with pastel shadows. His second beer is perspiring steadily and dripping onto his t-shirt, the cool bottle idly pressed against his face and skewing his glasses.

He heard the shower shut off not long ago, and he's entertaining himself by imagining Rorschach dressing fastidiously, one item of clothing at a time. It started as an innocent game, constructing his myriad layers like a paper doll, but now he's pleasantly buzzed and there's a certain warmth stirring between his thighs.

It's not exactly a good idea to think of his partner like this; not with the puritanical rants and espousing of right-wing ideals and the classically repressed dozens-of-layers thing he's got going on, and hell, not with him in the /house/. He always moves like a wild thing, though, and the efficient brutality with which he defends his streets is intoxicating. Tonight was no different.

Tonight /was/ different; tonight Rorschach was stripped back, even a tiny amount. It's a snagged thread, and Dan can't help but feel if he tugs hard enough, the whole persona will unravel and he will get to see what hides beneath.

Sometimes when it's been a chaotic, busy night, Rorschach forgets himself and grabs the back of Dan's neck to bring their heads close. He sometimes says, "Good job, Nite Owl," in that rusted voice, and Dan always thrills at his touch, at the hard-earned praise. It makes him want to slide his hands under the scarf and finger the seam of his mask.

He gives a low groan, and slides a hand against his groin. Goddammit, it makes him /hard/, especially when he catches the light just so, and the ink swirls like parting water and Dan thinks he can see him either grimacing or smiling, it doesn't matter which, just that he can see the faint impression of his mouth.

Dan licks his lips and cups himself through his pants. He's seen his partner's mouth a few times before, when he rolls the mask up over his nose to eat or drink or spit out blood. It's not pretty. /Nothing/ about him is pretty, it's all dour and blunt and raw, and usually bruised or sutured, too.

He lets his eyes slip closed and rubs himself, fingernails rasping against the zipper. He imagines pressing his fingers against the mask, sliding them into Rorschach's mouth. He'd bite. Dan's breath hitches.

"Daniel?"

Oh, Christ.

Dan crosses his legs and takes a slug of his beer before he dares to look over at his partner. He almost chokes on his mouthful.

Rorschach is barefoot, wearing only his pinstriped pants and half-buttoned shirt, dampened by his freshly-showered skin. His scarf is looped around his neck, suspenders hanging at his thighs. He's tense, hands fisted. "Thought I heard you..."

This is bad. Dan didn't even realize he'd been vocal, never mind loud enough to get Rorschach's attention - and then to catch Rorschach short of words, that's never good. The unfinished sentence hangs accusingly.

"Uh," Dan says, and straightens his glasses. "No, I was just, um."

"Are you injured? Foolish to leave a wound untreated." Rorschach moves closer, inkblots shifting into a series of patterns: wings; a cascade of leaves. Dan feels himself flush. There are curls of red hair on Rorschach's chest, and freckles, he's a redhead, oh god. He squeezes his eyes shut.

He opens them again when he feels his beer lifted away and placed on the coffee table.

"I'm not hurt," he says, words falling over themselves as Rorschach leans in to run his hands down Dan's arms, lifting them to check for wounds. Bare hands on bare arms. Dan can barely hear anything over the rush of blood in his ears.

"Feverish, skin is flushed."

"I'm not hurt," Dan repeats, more carefully this time. He sees the shift of latex; Rorschach running his tongue over his lips, contemplative. "Oh man," he says, mouth working faster than his brain. "Rorschach, put some more clothes on before I do something stupid."

A long, agonizing pause.

"What," Rorschach says, and straightens up.

Dan kind of wants to laugh at his consternation, but that would be awful of him. He throws him a rope and changes the subject instead. "Are you sure you don't want that beer?"

"Alcohol impairs your judgment," Rorschach says pointedly, though the barb doesn't disguise his apparent relief at the new turn to the conversation.

"It also helps you unwind," Dan retorts, equally pointed. He leans forward to catch his bottle up.

Rorschach folds his arms across his chest, roped muscle shifting under the thin fabric of his shirt. "Insinuating something, perhaps?"

"Nothing gets by you," Dan says, and thinks, oh god shut up shut up you idiot, but carries right on anyway. "You don't have a particularly good relationship with pleasure, do you, buddy?"

#

Rorschach is an intelligent man, Dan thinks, but like anyone else, he has his foibles. The calculated violence and ugly bigoted streak aside, he's uptight and stubborn to a fault, and he hates being wrong - especially when it means Dan is right.

And Dan has very recently discovered that he's also extremely loud when on the receiving end of a blowjob, and won't stay the hell still. Dan's barely breathed on him and he's already squirming, bare ass squeaking on the leather upholstery. Threatening to tie him down with his scarf and suspenders earned Dan a sharp knee in the gut, but one step at a time, hey.

"You trust me, right?" Dan murmurs, nosing at his cock. The soft glide of skin was a surprise at first, but of course he wouldn't necessarily be cut. It fascinates him. He runs a firm hand up Rorschach's shaft and makes the skin bunch up, then pulls it back again to reveal the plump head.

"Any reason why I shouldn't," Rorschach says, hooking his mask over his nose to catch his breath. Dan doesn't think he's ever sounded so alarmed, not even facing off against ridiculous, armed-to-the-teeth odds.

"No, just...god, just relax, man. Let yourself go." He runs his tongue over the head of Rorschach's cock, then catches his foreskin between his lips, works it gently. That earns him a noise that usually means one of them has been stabbed. Distantly, he thinks that patrols might get kind of physically awkward from now on, and that's more than a little messed up.

Dan presses his lips around Rorschach's cock, and Rorschach's hips surge beneath him and he breathes in sharp little gasps, grabbing at Dan's hair. He's not sure exactly what he was expecting, but for whatever reason, it wasn't /that/; he gags and pulls back before he chokes.

Dan wipes his watering eyes and tries to stop coughing. "Okay, maybe a /little/ restraint."

Rorschach looks aghast. Dan fails to keep a straight face. He is a terrible person. Without thinking, he leans up to kiss Rorschach, some idiotic attempt to reassure him or something, but Rorschach turns his face aside.

Okay then. Maybe it's not gay if they don't kiss.

Dan goes back to sucking his cock.

He digs his fingertips into the inside of Rorschach's thighs, pressing against hard muscle that is already tensing and relaxing in waves. No wonder the bastard is always so ready to punch someone; he's got one hell of a hair-trigger. It's as if Rorschach - or whoever he is when he's not being Rorschach - never takes care of himself.

Perhaps Dan was that little bit too close to the mark earlier. It would explain the rapid and kind of furious escalation of events, anyway.

It doesn't take much more: the press of his tongue on the underside of Rorschach's cock as Dan slides him from his mouth, and a firm stroke of his hand, thumb teasing the spot just under the head. He falls silent, pained groans given way to deep breaths. Dan's warning is a sudden mournful noise, and then Rorschach's muscles lock as he spurts against Dan's lips, runs hot over his fingers.

For a moment he has the perverted urge to lick his lips and grin lasciviously, but he quite likes his face the way it is so he just wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and glances up. Rorschach is sprawled slack-mouthed over the couch. The ink of his mask drifts in nebulous wisps as his breathing steadily slows, quietens.

Dan shoves his knee. He doesn't react.

"You're an ass," Dan says. "At least a token compliment, Jesus." Because he's such a goddamn authority on blowjob etiquette. He reaches into his pants to adjust his erection. "And what am I supposed to do with this, huh?"

He finds Rorschach's gloves on the hallway bureau, pockets them while he climbs the stairs. Later, when he sits on his bed and runs ratty, soft leather down his stomach, he decides that maybe Rorschach was quite complimentary after all.

>>34934

Fffuck yes, anon. This felt like vintage Dan/Rorschach, by which I mean it was delicious.

>>34934
I've not been so delighted by porn in ages. This is AWESOME.

>>34934
I need more first-time porn of this pairing in my life.

>>34840

dem nips

>>33530
This is the fic that the picture is based off of. Never have been a more proud writer (even if this was sort of crack, written for kink meme).

"Coasters NOT Optional"



Nite Owl had challenged the tyrany of the Underboss, taken down criminals twice his size with twice the firepower. Hell, before Archimedes was ever in the picture, he was flinging himself across rooftops with a grappling gun and spring-soled boots (that had really been a bad idea, all things considered). He had never felt so close to death.

It had been building up, really. It was only a matter of time. He had been pulling his hair out over the countless false alarms raised in the night from the clattering arising from his kitchen pantry. He woke up in the morning and there was no sugar for his goddamn coffee. Like a racoon- really, he couldn’t think of a better metaphor! Pawing through his inventory of canned goods, stealing away into the night without so much as a how-do-you-do. And just because he /had/ the money didn’t mean he /wanted/ to keep pulling it out of his pockets to keep repairing his door. He was beginning to entertain thoughts of having another housekey made, but then that would mean he was encouraging this sort of behavior.

Then again, what did it say when he went out night after night without saying a thing to the perpetrator? Rorschach was there every night -unless he wasn’t, which Dan never got notice of- riding beside him in the hull of Archie or striding strong at his shoulder in the streets. Neither of them said anything about it, and Dan simply had to sigh and shake his head because he was just as an enabler. It wasn’t all bad, after all. Sometimes his partner lingered when caught in the act of poaching, sat at the table and humored Daniel’s attempts at casual conversation. Sometimes. Or they talked about the next big bust, the details of their next mission, which he knew the masked man was much more eager for. And that was pleasant.

Lately, though, lately it had been trying Dan’s saint-worthy patience. Five nights in a row, they’d been chasing down a drug ring that seemed to be three steps ahead. Much to Nite Owl’s dismay, they had even taken the sewers in hopes of surprising what they had been led to believe was one of the higher up officers. Again, a little fish, a front man that knew as much about anything as the vigilantes. Another address to search, an abandoned warehouse to show for it. Even if he let Rorschach drag him through the streets until he was raw one breadcrumb after another, Nite Owl knew they were going to have to slip back under the radar again, wait for mistakes to be made. He knew it wasn’t what his partner wanted to hear, wasn’t something he would be convinced of through the same trivialities that made Dan want to throw his hands up.

He awoke to the sound of his basement door hitting the wall downstairs, meaning his partner had taken the route into the lair. Probably had taken some tools too. Dan reluctantly rose from his bed- he knew Rorschach wasn’t getting any sleep over this. Infuriated, no doubt, that he kept being had. Couldn’t blame him, but something needed to be said.

Daniel found him with a can of peaches in one hand and a can of Coca-Cola in the other, nestled in the crook of his downstairs couch. He had his mask drawn up to his nose, all square jaw and stubble and loud noises as he slurped the juice from the peach can.

“Amastad another wash. Potential bases running out.” Was all he had to offer. He had a dog-eared map spread on the table before him, marks all over it where they had found information and crossed out every failure. Dan noticed they had increased substancially.

“I’ll say,” Dan mused, “You’ve nearly covered the whole city.”

“Necessary for success.”

“Yes, desperation calls for drastic measures...”

There is a tense silence. Rorschach chews on a peach slice with ruthless fervor. Schlorp schlorp.

“Listen, Rorschach,” Dan sighs, feeling sorry for letting his exhaustion get the better of him. “They know we’re looking for them. Even the dumbest criminal can avoid an investigation if they know the roads we’re taking.”

“So change course.” With the mask out of the way, Dan could see Rorschach was speaking through gritted teeth. He wasn’t going to let this go. He kind of had the pitbull thing going for him. But Dan wasn’t amused. He was tired and he was beginning to feel desperate for his friend.

“We need to lay low for a while. Make them think that we quit.”

“Hrn. But /they/ won’t quit.” He set the can of peaches down on the coffee table and cracked open his can of coke, taking long swallows and wrinkling his short nose reflexively as it burned all the way down. “Can’t let them win.”

Daniel knew it. Somehow, Rorschach had gotten it into his head that he had something to prove to himself by persuing this case. Neither of them could possibly know it now, but things were going to get a lot worse in the future, the stakes would be much higher. Right now Daniel thought his partner was wound so tight he was bound to pass out from brain deterioration (from the man’s clear insomnia) all from clutching at coat tails. Rorschach was taking this way too seriously for his own good, but he was too damn ate up with it to see reason. And Dan wasn’t really good at being anything but reasonable when baring down his friends and colleagues. He was still grasping for something to say when Rorschach said it.

“Don’t need to come. You rest, Daniel.”

Maybe the masked man hadn’t meant it to be patronizing, didn’t mean for it to sound like he was implying Nite Owl step aside. But Daniel reared his head back like he had been slapped all the same, the words making him blink behind his glasses in rapidfire offense. It stings. He is a young man then, they both are, and he has his pride too.

“You stubborn bastard, you’re going to be so dazed that /if/ you find them, they’re not even going to have to try and kill you. You’ll keel right over! Goddamn you.”

He’s seething and Rorschach ignores him. Ignores him! He places down his coke on the table and leans back into the couch, head turned toward the door. He’s thinking about leaving. In the next moment he will. Dan’s eyes draw to the shimmering beads of sweat that are coming from the can and are beginning to form a puddle on his table.

“Are you going to put that on a coaster?” He whispers, nearly hoarse with rage and desperation.

“No.”

That’s it. The shit hits the fan.

Daniel and Rorschach are a tangle of limbs and anger on the couch where Dan has thrown himself at his partner with the pure intent of strangling him. No shake of the head or finger waggle- Oh, Rorschach, you pig-headed rascal, you! Just raw energy that has them stuggling against one another, trying to do harm and gain control of the situation all the same. Rorschach’s hands are slamming into Dan’s chest, pounding his back, pushing his cheeks and lips into odd angles as he both tries to fight and flee. Daniel shows how much of a saint he’s not, cursing Rorschach’s name and his crudeness and letting out everything he’s been holding back for weeks. It’s enough to make a sailor blush.

The wrestling is so violent it flips them both over the couch. Rorschach ends up on the bottom, so it winds him, and Daniel is shaking him like he can rid the man of all his horrible habits just by that. It’s all so rediculous, watching the other’s head waggle like a bobble doll, his mouth still agape with surprise, and he doesn’t care he’s so frustrated. And god, Rorschach smells so damn bad he wants to gag; he probably hadn’t even washed his clothes since the sewer incident. Before the shorter man can do anything like cold-clock him, Daniel pins his wrists and sinks his weight down just as Rorschach begins to buck and roar.

“GET OFF!”

“SCREW YOU, RORSCHACH!” He yells right back at him, though he sounds more like a dove trying to crow. Or an owl screeching. “We’re doing it MY WAY. You OWE ME.”

But Rorschach simply thrashes, gritting his teeth and curling his lip defiantly. Though they can’t be seen, his eyes are burning. The mask ripples his fury for him in distressed spatterings. “Action NOW!”

However, Dan knows his weight is too much for his partner (or soon to be ex-partner, it looked like) to handle in this position. He still fears for his life, fears that the man will rear up and tear out his throat with his teeth. He’s so powerful and raw even now. They pant harshly between one another for more moments, staring the other down though it’s hard to take Dan serious with his so glasses askew and his hair frazzled up like feathers of an irrate bird. Dan has the advantage, though, so it’s his move. And he gets a terrible idea, an idea that he thinks may bring him pains worse than death. But it just may work.

While they’re taking the next breath, the brunette’s hands free themselves from their white-knuckled death grip on the smaller man’s wrists. Only milliseconds exist as he delves them deep inside the trenchcoat beneath and find the muscled sides of his captive, squeezing just enough to tease the muscle. Rorschach goes as stiff as a plank, his head rearing back to thump the floor. Dan continues, and gloved fingers spring up to try and ineffectually claw at his arms as Rorschach chokes then makes a sharp keening sound.

“Ennk! Ennk!”

Dan begins to feel a grin stretching his features, and his fingers are livid up Rorschach’s sides as the man gasps and squirms and wheezes before finally, yes, finally he is laughing. You couldn’t really call it laughing by normal standards, it’s more of a whispery choking noise and the occasional snort from the man’s nostrils as he tries to suck it back in. He’s even harder to hold onto when they were fighting, kicking and arching, slapping at Daniel’s face only to miss because the man saw it coming.

“Dan--iel! Stop! No! Kke-ghh--!”

“No more bashing in the door!” The brunette rattles off his demands, “No more pilfering! Late night snacks- you ask!”

The masked man’s body strains beneath him, trying to twist away and finding no purchase. “Ys--ck!”

“What?”

“YES!”

Daniel can see moisture trickling down from the mask, clear rivulets down the speckled cheeks and past the gasping tight-lipped smile that may have been forced but still makes Daniel feel so damn accomplished.

“You’re staying here tonight and sleeping! On the couch! And you’ll be here in the morning! We’re going to talk!”

That one is a little harder, but he knows if Rorschach makes the promise he can’t go back on it. There is a brief struggle where the smaller man grits his teeth and tries to frown. Daniel reaches down and finds the crook of one of his knees, squeezes the muscle above the kneecap until the man howls what he wants to hear before dissolving into laughter again. He knows the man will be angry with him later, but he savors this, grinning as he affectionately bumps foreheads with his partner and flips off a shoe.

The fun is over when Rorschach pretty much kicks him across the room for running a thumb up the ball of his foot. It’s a gut shot, so the brunette only manages the edge of his kitchen before he’s puking all over the tile. Rorschach apologetically, if awkwardly pats his back while he heaves. He huffs indignantly when Dan grins back at him. But he isn’t petty, even if the defeat makes him ashamed of himself (for being taken down by tickling, of all things, but he’s never been touched in that way in his life either) and wounds his pride. He pulls down his mask and he flops on the couch while Dan goes to clean up the mess. He also transports his can of soda to a coaster.

Later he begins to forget his promises, though at first he will slip in the windows and shake Dan awake for his nightly visits. But Dan manages to finally talk some sense into the man that next morning, and since Rorschach has finally gotten his sleep he’s a bit more agreeable. There’s really only one of the promises he needed to be kept. The rest he can work out along the way.

>>35724
om nom nom I keep alternating between staring at his face and his dick.

DAT ASS

>>35815
DAT ASS FO EVAH