There existed no problem too complicated to solve. These were words he lived by. In fact, he prided himself on being a man of solutions. It amused him, however, that a problem tended to grow in complexity for every human being involved. Adrian Veidt stared out the window, resting his eyes on the familiar shape of the city. It was chaos to the naked eye, but Adrian had learned to step back. Step back far enough and you’ve got the perfect view, a world completely manageable in its simplicity. He sighed and placed his hand against the cold, glass surface. One problem, two people. Perhaps adding a third man in the equation would provide the solution?

***

Dan was shy. There was no way around that. He was a shy person. In fact, had he ever had any semblance of a social life except with other masks? Not that he could remember. And after the Keene Act it had dwindled down to almost nothing. So what he had slowly begun to suspect about his sexual orientation shouldn’t be a problem, considering he had nobody to really come out to. Almost nobody.

He sighed, toying with a thumbed old notebook where he kept his notes about Archie. He had to keep his thoughts hidden from Rorschach, he just had to. If Rorschach ever found out, Dan feared that he might break every bone in Dan’s body. And he would most likely succeed, too. Before, when they worked together, Dan liked to believe that he would have won a fight like that, but the truth was simply that Rorschach was much, much more ferocious. Unbalanced, his brain supplied helpfully and he grimaced. Yes. And now? Dan wasn’t even in shape, not even remotely. So no. He didn’t know much about Rorschach’s view on homosexuality but he was willing to bet money that it wasn’t sweet and rainbow-coloured. And that was essentially what made his recent discovery that much more horrifying: that his subconscious had decided that Rorschach was exactly what he wanted. The first dream had actually made him wake up screaming, which was something he had previously thought only happened in bad movies. He was trying his hardest to act normal, he really was. He knew how obsessive his friend was when he thought that somebody was hiding something from him. Scratch that, when he was hiding something. As far as Rorschach was concerned, Daniel’s business was his business. Dan sighed and eyed Archie, trying to envision a face lift. Specks of gold around the windows, maybe? Something discreet.

”Sighing, Daniel. What’s wrong?”

The hoarse voice was low, and just behind him. He made a startled sound and jumped up, nearly tripping on a crate.

”Rorschach! I didn’t notice… ” He stared into the ever-changing mask of the man before him.

”Sloppy. Careless,” Rorschach chided, but there was no real edge in it. Dan nodded.

”That’s me, I’m afraid,” he said, picking up the notebook from the ground. He could feel Rorschach’s eyes on him.

”Hruuum… didn’t answer my question,” Rorschach said. Dan shrugged, thinking back rapidly. What had set him off? Sighing? That was it!

”I was just thinking of giving Archie a face lift,” he said lightly. ”A few details in gold would look good I think.”

Rorschach seemed to buy this. He looked at Archie, head slightly tilted in thought.

”Too extravagant. Won’t scare criminals,” he replied. Dan nodded. True enough.

”Hey, do you want to stay for dinner? I’ve got a meatloaf in the oven,” Dan said before his brain caught up, then he mentally kicked himself. What was wrong with him? But Rorschach seemed to get uncomfortable too.

”Have to go. Patrol,” he grunted and headed for the exit tunnel.

”Will you be back later?” Dan called after him. Mental kick. What was wrong with him? Rorschach hesitated for a fraction of a second before jerking his head and disappearing into the darkness. Dan liked to think that it meant ’yes’.

***

Patrol that night had been successful, all things considered. For some reason he had been particularly vicious, leaving many broken bones in his wake. He knew that Daniel would not approve, and that very fact felt strangely satisfying for some reason.

For some reason.

He wondered if Daniel knew what he did to him. How sick he was, how disgusting. How his thoughts twisted themselves like poisonous snakes every time Daniel got down on his knees and crawled under Archie. How he had to keep his fists tightly clenched in the pocket of his trench to keep them from touching him. Every time his thoughts drifted off in that forbidden direction, the fantasy always ended with Daniel’s face scrunched up in shock and disgust. Clumsy and undisciplined as Daniel had become, he had still a sense of purity about him that amazed Rorschach. He told himself that he was content just to be in his presence, but even as he thought it he knew it to be a lie. It wasn’t true. Not anymore.

Almost as an afterthought, he broke two fingers on the last mugger before tying him up by the lamppost. The screams were vaguely satisfying. For some reason.

***

Dan couldn’t sleep. A fresh thought had caused him some anxiety. What if Rorschach was here some night? Would he wake up with his friend’s hands around his throat? Lord knew that the dreams were vivid enough. What if he slipped? It took quite some time to fall asleep that night, and when sleep did come it was restless and fretful.

***

Rorschach broke the lock quickly, soundlessly, and slipped inside the house like a shadow. He might come here for food now and then but breaking the lock was a mark, a claim of independence. He hesitated by the stairs, the soft sound of Daniel’s snoring drifting down to him. It was safe, familiar. It was also an unbelievable temptation. It took some serious effort on his part to walk past the stairs and into the kitchen. On the kitchen counter a plastic box stood waiting and he knew that it was for him, otherwise it would have been stowed away somewhere along with everything else. Daniel kept a clean house. Rorschach opened it and a generous helping of meatloaf and vegetables waited inside. The smell was mouthwatering and without a word he grabbed a fork and started eating.

***

Dan smiled as he entered the kitchen the next morning and saw the empty box in the sink. He had toyed with the thought of leaving food out before and he was glad that Rorschach seemed to approve. It was a little like leaving food out for a squirrel. A giant, finger-breaking squirrel. The telephone rang and startled him out of thoughts that were well on their way to becoming bizarre.

”Hello?” he answered, vaguely aware of the fact that it had been a long time since anybody called.

”Dan? It’s Adrian. How are you doing?” Adrian’s voice was smooth and pleasant, in many ways the complete opposite of Rorschach’s. Dan blinked, then lit up.

”Hi Adrian! It’s been a long time!” he said. ”I’m fine, same old, you know. How have you been?”

”Listen,” Adrian said, voice as pleasant as ever. ”I have to go, but would you like to have dinner with me later?” Dan hesitated. Why not? He was becoming a real loner, and it would be nice to see an old friend.

”Sounds great! I go for dinner around seven. When do you get off?”

”Whenever I want,” Adrian replied evenly.

***

Their dinner was a quiet thing at first, the reason for that being that they hadn’t seen each other for quite awhile. But sooner than Dan had expected, the tension evaporated and he felt completely at ease. The restaurant itself was a good deal fancier than Dan was used to, and he took a moment to look around. The decorator had favored dark red and brown which gave it a nice, homey atmosphere. Despite the many people in the restaurant, it wasn’t loud at all. Whether it was because of the interior, the size of the rooms or the guests’ general disposition to talk low key he didn’t know, but he found that he enjoyed it very much. When the waiter came, he ordered a steak and potato dish that he knew deep down he should really avoid. His body wouldn’t object to a salad once in a while, he knew, but he just didn’t like it all that much. Adrian had ordered a vegetarian dish and a glass of white wine (red wine for Daniel, which he had accepted under protest).

The evening passed with comfortable small talk about this and that, nothing really important, but Dan found that he had a good time. He hoped that Adrian had a good time too, and Adrian looked like he had. As usual he was all smiles and sparkling blue eyes. It was impossible not to trust him. It wasn’t until they exited the cab (Dan a bit unsteady, since his one glass of wine had been refilled a number of times) that he wondered why Adrian had suggested dinner. They hadn’t talked about anything important, as Dan recalled. In fact they had barely mentioned the other masks; instead Adrian kept throwing out the subject of owls and listened with great interest while Dan lost himself in a monologue. All in all, Dan was too drunk to blush at the memory. When they were outside his door he turned to Adrian with a big smile. He stared up in his handsome face and found that the world was reduced to the big Cheshire cat grin hovering above him for a moment before it descended on him. The kiss seemed to shock the alcohol right out of his system because he was suddenly stone cold sober and very, very confused. The lack of response didn’t seem to bother Adrian, in fact Dan distinctly felt him smile against his lips. Finally, though, he broke away and leaned back to observe Dan’s reaction.

”Why would you do that?” Dan asked with his usual honesty, only this time his voice had an unusual sharp edge. Adrian shrugged lightly and gave Dan an easy smile which didn’t fool him for a second.

”I guessed your preference and I wanted to see if I was right,” he replied. Dan crossed his arms over his chest.

”I see. This dinner was an experiment, then. Well, are you satisfied?” he said.

Adrian smiled suggestively. ”Not even close.” Dan grimaced, disgusted at the insinuation.

”Don’t be vulgar.” He turned to the door. ”Goodnight, Adrian.”

Adrian let him get the key well into the lock before speaking again. ”Have you told Rorschach?” he asked at last, innocence dripping from every syllable. Dan froze.

”No,” he said shortly, suddenly afraid. Was this going to be a threat? Blackmail? But Adrian only smiled. ”I haven’t told him. He doesn’t need to know.”

”I see. Well, goodnight Dan,” Adrian said mildly before turning and walking down the steps, heading for the cab waiting by the kerb. The kindness of his tone grated on Dan’s nerves. He gritted his teeth.

”Don't tell him.” Suddenly, he didn’t care about his dignity. He’d plead if he had to. His friendship with Rorschach meant too much to him to gamble away. Adrian turned slowly with an almost serene look on his face.

”I don’t have to,” he said before getting in to the cab, leaving Dan with a dark abyss spreading in his stomach and chest. What was that supposed to mean? Would Rorschach know anyway? How? Was he here? Dan scanned the shadows, but the quiet night offered no hint at all that a masked avenger seething with hatred and indignation stood hidden in its depths. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that there wasn’t. Dan’s anxiety mounted and he wrung his hands in an unconscious gesture.

”Rorschach..!” he called softly, but there was no answer. Not that he had expected one, but the silence felt horrible. It made him think that Rorschach had been there and left, disgusted at Dan’s perversity. That he would never see him again. It wasn’t an unlikely scenario and he was suddenly convinced that it had happened. Adrian had somehow noticed his presence when Dan hadn’t and now Rorschach was gone forever. Dan closed his eyes and leaned against the door, feeling his heart disappear into the abyss in his chest. A few moments later he pulled himself together and went into the house, barely noticing his surroundings. As he passed the door to the living room, though, he was grabbed from behind, turned, and flung violently against the wall. The back of his head connected sharply with the wall and he grimaced, feeling his knees buckling through his sudden dizziness. His hands were instinctively thrown up in self-defence but were easily avoided by his attacker who grabbed the front of his coat. The attacker hissed like an agitated snake as he pressed up close against Dan, pinning him against the wall until he couldn’t move. Dan knew who it was before he opened his eyes, and intense relief flooded him and temporarily drowned out the underlying fear.

”Rorschach!” he said breathlessly, which only seemed to agitate his friend. Was he still his friend, though?

”Filthy! Why, Daniel?” Rorschach’s voice was trembling with rage, and Dan felt the blood drain from his face as the fear finally overcame his relief. Rorschach’s hands didn’t move an inch as Dan strained to get them off him. ”Didn’t say anything. Let him touch you. Lied to me, Daniel. Not right.” As he talked, Rorschach released his iron grip with one hand and brought it to Dan’s face, touching his hair, his cheek, his neck and jaw possessively until it finally came to rest on his throat, gripping just enough for Dan to feel the pressure, the silent threat of violence. Dan swallowed, a movement that Rorschach clearly felt against his hand judging by the vigilante’s hiss.

”Listen to me! I didn’t lie to you, I promise! I just didn’t tell you..” Dan choked as the grip on his throat tightened. He drew breath with some difficulty and continued. ”… because I knew that you’d hate me.” To his intense shame he realized how hard he was and wondered briefly if it was the violence that affected him like that. Rorschach was right, he was filthy. He felt his face heat up and closed his eyes. Rorschach was close enough to feel the hardness against his thigh at any moment, and then it would all be over… he couldn’t hold back a whimper when he felt the grip around his throat tighten even more as Rorschach made the discovery. About the same time as Dan realized that his hardness wasn’t the only one, Rorschach released him abruptly and stepped back, leaving Dan to slide down to the floor. The silence stretched out for a full minute, during which Dan stared at the floor, much too ashamed to look up, or to even get up. Childishly, he wanted to stay there on the floor forever. It was Rorschach who moved first, bending down and dragging him to his feet. Dan didn’t fight him, curious now as to where Rorschach was pushing him.

”Um… Rorschach? Where are we going?” he asked softly. He half expected Rorschach to snap his neck.

”Quiet, Daniel,” Rorschach replied. His voice was no longer white-hot with rage, but Dan could tell that he was upset; the grip on his upper arm would leave marks the next morning and he recognized the shorter man’s body language as the same as right before a fight. Quick, measured, tightly controlled energy waiting to explode. Rorschach stopped before Dan’s bedroom and pushed him inside, slamming the door shut behind them. Dan took a deep breath and turned, holding his hands out in a peaceful gesture.

”Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It doesn’t have to change anything. I mean, can’t you just pretend that you didn’t see anything..?” As the words left his lips he instantly knew how futile they were. Had Rorschach ever, in his entire life, pretended that he didn’t see anything? Dan doubted it, and saw that Rorschach had tensed even more. ”No, of course you wouldn’t. How stupid of me,” Dan whispered, with a tiny hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. What was it Rorschach always said? No compromises. So this was it, then. Too lost in his own bitter musings, he didn’t notice when Rorschach moved closer until he was too close. Dan backed away instinctively, backed away and Rorschach followed almost teasingly every step until he almost trod on Dan’s feet, until the edge of the bed caught the back of Dan’s knees and he fell backwards. He propped himself up on his elbows where he laid sprawled and stared up at the other man. He could swear that the moving blots in the mask floated into little pools of amusement, but perhaps that was just his imagination.

”Rorschach, what are you doing?” he asked quietly, barely above a whisper, and his voice trembled with fear, anticipation and tentative hope. Because amusement didn’t have to be good. Questioning criminals had sometimes brought out the same dark amusement in Rorschach, and on those occasions he had scared Dan. Scared even Nite Owl, who really was too soft-hearted for some of those methods. Rorschach’s next words confirmed those fears.

”Answers, Daniel. You have them.” Rorschach kicked lightly at one of Dan’s legs, making him spread them more. ”I want them,” he continued and tilted his head, and Dan could feel those cold eyes observing him. ”Be good,” Rorschach added before he shrugged off his trenchcoat and draped it over the back of a chair. Dan experienced momentary panic while he watched him do that, wondered briefly if he was supposed to take off his clothes too, then settled for squirming out of his coat at least, letting it slide off the bed and onto the floor. He pushed his legs together again, trying to find a position which would hide his erection, but stopped as Rorschach crawled onto the bed, stopping next to Dan, leaning half over him supported on his left elbow.

Dan’s heart beat wildly as a gloved hand came to rest against his chest, and he imagined that Rorschach could feel the fluttering against his hand through the two layers of fabric. Fantasies, of course, since he knew Rorschach to have much more reliable methods to detect fear. His eerie sixth sense about it, for example. As long as Dan had known him Rorschach had an almost infallible talent for sniffing out lies. As Dan’s thoughts wandered nervously in every direction, the hand on his chest began to move, deftly opening his shirt one button at a time. When at last his chest was bare, crimson from the perpetual blush, Rorschach caressed it greedily. His touch was not completely without tenderness, and that reassured Dan enough to enjoy it. The blush deepened as a gloved finger poked his stomach, where the result of too many good dinners and too few roof-top chases was evident. Despite the teasing gesture Rorschach didn’t seem to mind the softness. Perhaps, Dan thought fleetingly, because of its contrast to Rorschach’s own body which was all unyielding hardness and sharp angles.

He was startled back to the present by a sharp pinch at his nipple. Rorschach had said something, but what?

”Hn?” Dan managed and Rorschach took pity on him.

”How long?” Rorschach repeated, his harsh voice raking down Dan’s spine like a set of claws. Dan’s erection strained against the front of his pants again and he looked away, too ashamed to answer. Rorschach was becoming impatient, he knew, but as much as he was trying to formulate an answer he failed. ”Daniel.” Dan knew a warning when he heard one and tried harder.

”Too long,” he whispered without looking at the man who was studying him intently.

”Veidt?” The name was a question but spoken with such deadly undertones that Dan had to take a deep breath to calm himself. It was now or never, then.

”Never him,” he said softly and the hand on his chest went completely still for a moment. Gathering all the courage he had left he raised a slightly shaking hand and placed it on top of Rorschach’s, fingers gently prodding until they were intertwined. He looked up, straight into the mask above him where the dark blots moved furiously across the white surface. Whatever Rorschach saw must have tipped the scale in some direction, because Dan felt his hands grabbed and placed firmly above his head, and felt something against his wrist. He caught a glimpse of it and realized that it was the belt of Rorschach’s trenchcoat securing his wrists against the head of the bed. ”Rorschach,” he mumbled and something in his voice, something in his face made Rorschach stop and lean down, touching his face carefully. The gesture was meant to be calming, meant to erase the worry plainly seen there, but the soft material of the glove against his cheek made Dan ache with need. He stared up into the mask, trying to communicate his desire wordlessly and as so many times before it worked perfectly. Rorschach hesitated again before jamming a thumb under his mask and bringing it up to rest just above his nose. Dan watched him shamelessly. He had never gotten the opportunity to do this before. Just fleeting glimpses of a sharp, stubbled jaw was never enough, and now he was free to stare as much as he liked. Rorschach’s thin lips were set in concentration and Dan realized how much self control his friend really had. It was not only something to admire, but also something to greatly appreciate, especially, Dan felt, in this particular situation. He lifted his chin slightly, an invitation that seemed to confuse Rorschach. But only for a moment. The next second, Dan felt the hard mouth brush hesitantly against his, lips unmoving and unyielding, perhaps completely unused to the action. Dan moved his lips over Rorschach’s softly, letting the tip of his tongue flick out playfully against the corner of his mouth, then trace his lower lip slowly. A few long seconds ticked by while Dan coaxed and tempted, and finally… .

”Ennk.”

It was a small sound of hunger and desperation, perhaps undetectable for anyone but Dan, but the next instant Rorschach’s mouth was crushed against his with much more enthusiasm than care. Dan didn’t mind if his lips would be bruised the next day, not when Rorschach was licking and biting, pressing his tongue between Dan’s lips, fucking his mouth in the most depraved manner. His actions were those of a starving man facing a feast; his hands were cradling Dan’s head, turning it this way and that, raking his fingers through the brown curls; his mouth alternately plundering Dan’s and tracing his jaw and throat. Finally Rorschach broke away and straightened up, breathing heavily. Dan watched him through half-lidded eyes, then caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall and looked away, cheeks burning. He looked like an angel who had just recently made a radical career choice into prostitution.

Rorschach made a sound caught between a moan and a growl before he positioned himself between Dan’s legs. He stroked them possessively, grabbing and letting go, feeling him. Dan watched him warily, suddenly unsure. If Rorschach was as inexperienced in this as in kissing he might have a reason to be afraid. Dan swallowed and strained against his bonds, fighting his own nervousness. Rorschach stopped and looked at him, head tilted slightly.

”Won’t hurt you, Daniel,” he said simply, and years of partnership emphasized each word. Dan relaxed somewhat. To others it might be a source of horror to be in this position in front of Rorschach, but Dan trusted him. If Rorschach said that he wouldn’t hurt him, he wouldn’t hurt him. Much. Despite that, he couldn’t keep his heart from skipping a beat when Rorschach removed his pants and he felt the cool air against his bare skin. His doubts fled as a gloved hand touched him and started jerking him off with the expertise of a whore. He moaned and closed his eyes, ashamed and entirely too aroused to care. A finger slid down just between his testicles and hole and pressed gently, massaging the spot until Dan whimpered and raised his hips in an unconscious invitation. And then the finger pressed lightly against his opening and by reflex he clenched. Rorschach drew in a sharp intake of breath, a hissing sound that sent shivers down Dan’s spine. Suddenly nervous again, he struggled a little.

”Rorschach. Maybe it would be best if we… if we waited..?” he mumbled. Rorschach stopped to listen, he noticed, and the moving blots of the mask made him think that Rorschach was dissecting his words, arranging them in two neat piles; fear and lust.

”Has to be now, Daniel,” Rorschach said, and Dan paled. Apparently he wasn’t scared enough. He felt the tip of Rorschach’s finger slide into him and jerked violently, gasping. The sudden intrusion burned, but mostly it felt strange, uncomfortable and very, very dirty. ”Relax,” Rorschach said and his voice ruined what perhaps was meant to be words of comfort. He jerked Dan off slowly with his other hand, keeping the discomfort and pleasure balanced and intertwined. ”Won’t hurt if you relax.” Dan tried to do just that but his thoughts kept wandering to the inevitable, that Rorschach soon would replace his fingers with something else that couldn’t be compared to a finger and he honestly thought that it would hurt too much maybe even damage him oh god like in those stories that floated around about… and then the finger slid in deeper and twisted and OH! Dan arched his back and drew in huge lungfuls of air. The mixture of pain and pleasure was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was electric, it sent shock waves of sensations through his body, and right there in that moment he would have agreed to anything. Rorschach must have found his reactions intriguing because Dan felt the fingers press against the sweet spot in a merciless fingerfuck that left him gasping and babbling. After what seemed like an eternity Rorschach withdrew his hand and sat back. Dan watched him, apprehensive, out of breath and ready. He couldn’t help staring as Rorschach unbuttoned his pants and freed himself. Clearly Dan wasn’t the only one aroused. Rorschach noticed him staring and gave him that little trademark smirk caught halfway between amusement and sneer. He leaned down and gave Dan’s nipple a punishing twist. ”Slut,” he whispered and Dan blushed. ”Turn over.” Dan blinked.

”I… . Why? I- I mean… .” He stopped talking almost immediately. What did it matter what position they were going to use?

”Going to fuck you, Daniel. Easier for you if you turn over,” Rorschach replied and Dan blinked but nodded and turned clumsily with his wrists still attached to the headboard. He wriggled a little, feeling very exposed, and soon felt Rorschach’s hands on his hips. The hands travelled downward and spread his cheeks without preamble. Something warm trickled down the cleft and Dan blushed when he realized that Rorschach was using saliva as lubricant. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, only to open them wide a few seconds later when something obviously too big demanded entrance. It was slow but it hurt like hell and Dan reacted on pure instinct when he tried to get away. Pain exploded every time he moved and he felt a pair of hands grabbing his hips, holding him firmly in place. He was vaguely aware that he was yelling. ”Be still.” A harsh growl from behind. ”Do as I say, Daniel. Stop moving.” Dan stopped, but was still trembling in Rorschach’s grip.

”God,” Dan whispered with a shaky laugh. ”That hurt like hell.” Rorschach held perfectly still, buried to the hilt inside of him but not moving an inch. The worst intensity of the pain was rapidly fading.

”Shouldn’t have moved,” Rorschach muttered, clearly agitated. ”Hurt yourself.” Dan shook his head, resting his forehead against his bound wrists. The pain had subsided to a delicious tingle and all the sensations previously unknown to him came crashing down all at once. Invaded, taken, with an utter loss of control that sent him reeling. Small, involuntary muscle spasms gripped Rorschach’s cock inside of him and he could tell by the way Rorschach’s fingers dug into his hips that he didn’t find it entirely unpleasant.

”Let go,” Dan whispered, at first without knowing quite what he meant by that. When he realized what he wanted, he turned as much as his position allowed him to look back at Rorschach. ”I don’t want you to hold back anything.” For a moment there was no sound except for their heavy breathing.

Then Rorschach let go. He fucked Dan in a way that almost resembled an attack, viciously, greedily, until his howling partner surrendered completely to the onslaught. In one last violent thrust Rorschach emptied himself inside of Dan with a throaty growl before collapsing on top of him. Just before Rorschach drifted off to sleep he undid the belt around Dan’s wrists and curled up behind him protectively.

***

”Here’s your margarita, sir.” The pretty stewardess smiled politely to him as she handed Adrian his drink. He looked at his watch. Three hours. They should be done by now. Oh, he would congratulate them, yes, perhaps even a present would be appropriate. A vacation. He smiled and leaned back in his seat, seeing the future unfold before him without interference.