parker’s just not the sort of person to ask for favours unless she’s in way over her head - in fact when she asks for help on the juror #6 job, sophie points out how rare that is - but with hardison, she asks for random little things, can he bring her back some pastries? could he tell her if she’s saying this slang right? will he make it snow? (she has great faith in his abilities, possibly too great lol). i love that. she’s never been able to depend on someone, she’s had to be independent as possible for so long, but finally she gets to rest a little. to have faith that someone else is looking out for her. they’re so sweet
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I wrote some Daniel x Raglan, because I think they'd be hot together. No smut here, just some blatant flirting. (Might write a smutty sequel someday.) Hope you enjoy, lemme know if this floats your boat too!
“How’s the mackerel? Any good?”
Raglan makes an effort not to react other than glancing over to his right, knowing already who he’ll be getting face to face with. Who and what.
The vampire Daniel Molloy. Wearing a smile on his face that’s almost smug enough to be a smirk.
“Hello again,” he replies, more nonchalant than he feels in close vicinity to a supernatural apex predator.
Molloy plops down on the stool next to him with a small, unnecessary groan—a habit he has yet to grow out of. The two of them seated together at a restaurant countertop again, it can’t be a coincidence.
“You got me, I waited to approach you until you went here. For a mysterious guy, you’re very predictable,” Molloy admits, flashing a grin.
“And you’re supposed to be documenting Lestat de Lioncourt’s tour in the next city over.”
“Yeah… I figured we could use a little break from each other. Guy’s exhausting to be around. But you probably know that better than I do.”
“So what brings you here? Did you come all this way looking for nicer company?”
“You could say that,” Molloy says, his gaze from behind tinted glasses intensifying as he elaborates. “You see, during our previous dinner dates I got a certain… vibe from you. And,” he pauses for a second while maintaining his unblinking stare, “now I have confirmation my instincts remain infallible.”
Having his mind probed isn’t particularly new or chilling to Raglan, but it does make him wonder what Molloy thinks he just discovered. Then Molloy licks his lips. Not so much in a hungry fledgling vampire way as in a highly suggestive way.
Oh.
Raglan raises his eyebrows and doesn't reply. He refuses to be the first to break eye contact.
Molloy lets out a low chuckle, then leans over and says, “Technically, this is our third date. You know what that means, right?”
The way he says it leaves zero room for misinterpretation. This isn’t the first time a vampire has propositioned Raglan, nor the second. But it’s the first time a part of him is actually considering the possibility. He knows Molloy can sense his interest—rather annoying—as well as his unease.
“And why would I risk being your dinner tonight?”
“C’mon man, don’t tell me you’re afraid of me now? Don’t think I haven’t noticed your surprise visits stopped after I got turned. Barely a message since then. All feels a bit discriminatory if you ask me.”
“It’s called common sense, you should try it sometime.”
Molloy actually laughs at that. “See, why would I eat you? You’re fun. It’d be a waste.”
“Feeling lonely already? You’re really speedrunning this whole vampire thing.”
“Don’t pretend like the whole vampire thing isn’t a turn-on for you. Not shaming you, by the way, I remember all too well how hot it used to get me.”
“Yes, well… Look where that got you,” Raglan says, his resolve not to sleep with Molloy gradually waning. Perhaps he’s been a little lonesome himself. They do get on quite well with each other, even now. Not quite friendly, not quite mutual respect, but there is something there.
“Would it make you feel better if we ask Agent Rashid to chaperone? He’d probably be secretly into it,” Molloy smiles, still eyeing him like he's a five-course meal.
“That won’t be necessary.”
“But you’ll come with me to my hotel suite anyway?”
Molloy sounds hopeful. And dangerously sincere.
Raglan sighs deeply. “Let me finish my mackerel first.”
“The fish here is that good huh?”
“It's even better with company.”
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