Bonded

[Happened November 18, 2010]

Sendhil’s not the type to fuss too much over clothes, so it’s easy for him to choose something for his dinner date--standard black suit and tie, forest green shirt that isn’t too formal. It’s harder to keep his nerves in check as he waits at the bar of the Establishment’s restaurant, slowly sipping from a glass of white wine. There was something about Daniel on that flight that really appealed to him, whether it was the openness about him or the ease of the conversation. Maybe, he thinks, it was simply the hint of interest, but there’s more to it than that. Men have been interested, but Sendhil’s picky when it comes to romance, not just a one-night fling upstairs. When Daniel walks in, he makes an effort at casual, smiling and raising a hand in greeting, rising from his barstool.

“I’m glad you could make it,” he says warmly, extending his hand as Daniel approaches.

Daniel takes his hand, giving a lingering squeeze rather than a customary shake. "I'm glad that you called. I'd actually planned on calling you the next day, when we had a half-day of shooting. You beat me by about 15 hours."

Sendhil laughs at that and shakes his head. “My enthusiasm precedes me. I went ahead and got us a table,” he explains, grabbing his wine glass and signalling to the host that he’s ready. “How have you been?”

"Good, good, working hard, you know," Daniel follows along as they're shown to their table. "But I really love it. Great material to work from," he explains. "Plus, I'm one of those actor nerds who still loves the process."

Sendhil smiles, sliding into the booth. “Me, too, really. I find sorting through scripts frustrating, but once I’ve got a role, it’s still really exciting for me.”

"Well you're very good," Daniel notes, nodding thanks to the host who scuttles off, leaving behind menus and the wine list. "So now comes the first revelatory portion of the evening."

“Revelatory?” Sendhil asks, cocking his head to the side. “Are you going to divine things about my personality from what I like to eat?” he teases.

"No, not about your personality, just about you. Are you a vegetarian, for instance. Do you like spices." Daniel lifts the small folder with the extensive selection of wines. "Do you drink. Things like that. Things that are good to know if, let's say, we enjoy ourselves tonight and I suggest that next time I cook for us." Yes, he's getting a little ahead of himself. He's believing in positive things.

“Well this isn’t grape juice,” Sendhil smiles, nodding to his half-finished wine glass. “And if you like white, incidentally, it’s quite good. I’m not a vegetarian, and I do like spices. And you’d better not start offering cooking, I might climb into your lap and not let go,” Sendhil jokes with a little wink, taking a sip from his glass. “Man cannot live on TV dinners alone.”

Eyes snapping up sharply, Daniel has to wait a moment or five for his brain to stop swimming with images of Sendhil on his lap. "TV dinners, please tell me that you're joking?" He hopes that he's covered reasonably.

“I wish I were,” Sendhil laughs. “Although takeout’s more common. It just... doesn’t make much sense to make a big lasagna for myself, you know? I learned to cook for four,” he shrugs, no self-pity in his tone, just stating facts.

Daniel nods, "I learned in restaurants, so I have an advantage. But you know, if you cook too much, you just need to call someone to come eat with you."

“Maybe I’ll do that,” Sendhil smiles. “Where did you cook in restaurants? Was this is in England?”

"Yes, when I was in drama school, and then you know, in those early, post-school years. Nowhere fancy, but I learned good technique." Daniel shrugs. "Learn how to roast a chicken, grill a steak, chop and slice without taking off a finger, those are skills you can take with you."

The waitress comes then to take their drink orders, and Sendhil suggests a half-bottle of the wine he’s been sipping on. When she leaves, he explains, “It’s not that I’m a disaster in the kitchen. But I... admittedly let my mother do the cooking growing up, and it wasn’t until I had kids that I really had to be able to make a decent, filling, healthy meal. I have a few kid-friendly standbys, and that’s most of my repertoire.”

"I'd be glad to show you some recipes," Daniel offers, topping off Sendhil's glass from the carafe of wine which has been delivered in the usual flash. "Or send you some, whichever. I have a bit of a collection now."

“That’d be great, though I confess when I’m filming, the takeaway is just too tempting. The variety in LA, man. All I’m missing is some good barbecue.”

"Zeke's in West Hollywood is quite good, though I don't know from authentic, obviously," Daniel suggests, "the pulled pork is really good, and the hush puppies are great."

“Hush puppies!” Sendhil grins. “I miss hush puppies so much. And Tex Mex, though honestly Mexican food in LA is amazing enough to hit that craving most of the time, even though it’s not the same.” He glances down at his menu. “Okay, now I’m hungry...”

"So am I," Daniel laughs, flipping through the menu. "This is one of those nights when everything looks enticing." But he makes a decision quickly enough. "Hard to go wrong with the filet, though."

“I’m leaning in a pasta-ward direction,” Sendhil decides. “There’s something about alfredo. I’m a sucker for comfort food.”

"Oh, the duo, alfredo and rosemary chicken..." Daniel reconsiders, gesturing for their server. "It's so nice to share a meal with a foodie."

“If liking to eat qualifies me as a foodie,” Sendhil laughs. “I might even get lobster bisque. I’m feeling decadent tonight.”

"Mm and now I'm thinking about the corn chowder," Daniel suggests. "With the crostini with Asiago cheese and roasted red peppers."

“Fancy.” Sendhil smiles at the waitress and gives her his order, folding his hands on the table when she takes his menu.

Daniel orders -- the soup and the filet, since the pasta seems a little too decadent. After the server departs, he finds himself suddenly jittery, actually twiddling his thumbs, somehow, on his lap. "I'm sorry, I haven't done this in a while," which is not exactly accurate, but feels that way.

“Gone on a date?” Sendhil asks. He’s a fan of telling it like it is, though his tone of voice is soft and understanding.

A sense of relief floods through Daniel. He wasn't actually sure if they were on a date. He'd hoped, though. He smiles, but bows his head a little, blushing, a bit embarrassed. "Yes, you know, just a nice meal and conversation, getting to know someone."

“Been a while for me, too,” Sendhil admits, laughing. “A long while, if I’m honest. I’ve mostly been swinging by here occasionally for... not-dates. Which are good, but... meet a different need.”

Daniel nods, finally feeling like he can look at Sendhil again. "Same here. Or dates with the 'and' at the end, where the dinner or drinks were rather a nicety than our main goal. There've been a couple of interesting men but..."

Sendhil nods. “Nothing sparking,” he guesses, familiar with that feeling. There’s something scary about the idea of dating, even as ready as he’s felt for it in the past couple of months. Olga was a big spark, and he hasn’t known whether to settle for less. But something about Daniel is striking his intuition in a very positive way, and he finds himself feeling eager.

"Well, perhaps little bits of flame, here and there, some fun, but I think both of them found their real spark elsewhere." Daniel takes a deep breath. May as well put all his cards on the table, so long as they're really talking about this. Besides, he likes Sendhil, he may as well be as honest as he can be, right from the start. "I will admit that I'm not one for sharing, really. I don't ever foresee myself feeling right about calling up someone and saying 'if your dom is okay with it, would you like to come over for the evening? And can you get permission to stay?' I know that works for some people, but I don't think I'm one of them."

That little statement tells Sendhil a lot, and his breath catches in his throat, not just because their interests seem to align but because it’s the first definite indication that Daniel plays dominant, that he can give himself permission to start thinking of Daniel the way he subconsciously would really like to. “No,” he says quietly, sipping from his wine glass and keeping his posture open, leaning forward slightly, eyes on Daniel’s to communicate how engaged he is with this conversation.

“That was a major contributing factor in Olga and I’s decision to split,” Sendhil goes on. “I wouldn’t say the contributing factor, really it was time for us, but...” He pauses, considering how to explain. “I have certain needs that are... maybe too complicated to go into, and maybe somewhat personal for a restaurant and a first date,” he admits with a smile. “Needs that are... very much interlaced with my temperament as a submissive partner. If I’m in a serious relationship, I can be pretty protective of my time with my partner, and as things got emotionally deeper for Olga and I, on a dominance and submission level, she got more distant, less able to fulfill those needs or give me time. So...” Sendhil laughs, holding his hands open palms up. “More than you probably wanted to know, but I know where you’re coming from, is my point. From the position, I guess, of wishing I needed permission... that it was a little less easy for my partner to give, than it was with my wife.” And that, he knows, is dipping into something more personal than he meant to give up, but there it is.

Daniel thinks on that for a moment, taking a long swallow of wine. "Protective of your time," is where he lands, nodding and turning that phrase over in his head. "I think I like that in concept." He doesn't prob too hard into the nuances of Sendhil's marriage, or ask how a domme wife could decide that she just didn't have time for her submissive husband the more he needed her. It seems so backwards to him, so counterintuitive. "And it's not more than I wanted to know. Anything you're comfortable with telling, I'll keep in confidence, of course." Tell me more, he thinks. I want to learn who you are.

Sendhil nods. “I’ve spent time thinking about it,” he explains. “Necessary incident of divorce, I suppose. But I learned a lot about myself out of the whole experience, about what submission is to me in that emotional context. Which, admittedly, is more what I want out of it than the spankings,” he laughs as the server brings their soup course.

He can't help it. Really he can't, he tries valiantly, but he smiles, then he squeezes his eyes shut in vain, and then, Daniel laughs. He doesn't mean to, but he just can't hold it in. He covers his mouth with his napkin and waves a hand in protest to try to stave off offense.

Sendhil just smiles and tries a spoonful of his bisque, letting Daniel recover. “God, this is good,” he mutters to himself, making a soft sound of satisfaction.

"You're quite a gentleman," Daniel observes, "for not telling me off just then. I'm really sorry. I was just so pleased thinking that you're a submissive, and you like spankings, but like the emotional side of it even more. If I could place an order for what I'm looking for, that'd be an apt description."

“Oh?” Sendhil looks up, surprised. “Well, I’m glad that it’s not the image of me getting spanked by a woman that makes you laugh,” he teases, wanting to keep it comfortable. “My relationship with submission is complicated,” he admits with a shrug. “But that’s a good basic description of what I want.”

Daniel stops with a spoonful of soup halfway to his mouth. "I hadn't entertained an image of you being spanked. Until just now." He puts the spoon back down. "Not a thing funny about that."

That reaction gets a flirtatious smile, Sendhil’s mind churning ideas. “Nothing funny about feeling it, either,” he says in a low, confessional tone. “Though there are other things that get me more. Something about a hand tight in your hair just so...” He looks away, as if recalling a far-off memory, and then smiles and takes another sip of soup. He’d forgotten how fun this game can be when you really want to play.

"Are you trying to do me in? I'm still technically under contract to MGM, and they're bankrupt, they may come after you for wrongful death," Daniel jokes, but ideas he's pretty sure he shouldn't be having so soon are pinging around in his head.

“Hey, I don’t have that kind of cash,” Sendhil says, holding his hands up in surrender and grinning.

"Neither do I!" Daniel really, really likes Sendhil's smile. "So let's try to keep me healthy, shall we?" He finally digs into his soup, contemplating all these ideas that have been so unexpectedly brought to the table. He offers one of his crostini, holding it across the table. "Taste?"

Don’t think that, Sendhil chides himself mentally the moment Daniel’s hand extends towards his mouth. Do not go there. He tries to keep his expression neutral as he questions whether he’s supposed to just take the crostini out of Daniel’s hand. But as flirtatious as things are going, as honest as they’re being with each other, he decides that it won’t be too out-of-place to lean in and bite into the little toast, making an approving sound.

Something warm that touches good parts of Daniel's memory floods through him in the delicate way that the bite is taken, and he can't stop himself from brushing a crumb from Sendhil's lip, barely touching with the pad of his thumb. "Good, isn't it?" Daniel smiles and sets the second bite on the edge of Sendhil's plate, hoping he hasn't overstepped.

Sendhil notices his own reaction as if he’s observing from outside of himself, the way he licks his lips instinctively and the way his breathing slows. “It’s... yeah, very,” he agrees, trying to stay on top of things.

"I'm sorry, that was too much," Daniel apologizes, even though he doesn't think that his offer was unappreciated. He looks at his soup, as if chowder holds all the mysteries of the universe.

“No, it’s...” Sendhil reaches out, gently touching the back of Daniel’s hand. “Only too much because I’m getting ahead of myself.” He smiles a little sheepishly. “Maybe I should backtrack to the ‘what’s your favorite color?’ stage before I say something embarrassing.”

"Well, we both getting ahead of ourselves, I guess. Maybe we can keep one foot in the ahead position and let the other one catch up?" Daniel suggests, making no effort to move away from Sendhil's warm touch. "Oh, and royal blue, for the record."

“I think we’d stumble a little,” Sendhil smiles. “But I like the idea. What about something less trivial? Tell me...” He thinks for a moment, taking another sip of soup with his free hand on the spoon. “Well I know about your daughter and your ex, any other family? Siblings?”

"I have a sister, she's older by two years. Mum and Dad both still around, divorced, mercifully, both remarried. Mum and Stepdad just moved to Wales this spring." Daniel smiles thinking of their little house near the ocean. "You? I know you grew up in Texas, right?"

Sendhil nods. “San Antonio. I have one sister, Sujatha, she and my parents are all doctors. I’m the black sheep,” he smiles. “I was terrible at chemistry.”

"Oh chemistry. I didn't even manage my O levels in sciences. Not my thing." Daniel shudders theatrically. "I always got my moles mixed up with my Avogadros and my atomic numbers."

“You were more interested in avocados than Avogadros,” Sendhil suggests, sipping his wine.

"Actually, that's entirely fair!" Daniel laughs. "I have loved avocados since I first had one! My Dad, he was a merchant marine, a sailor. And he'd sneak into the country with all manner of contraband produce, pomegranates and avocados and mangos. A durian once, that was... an experience. We lived over a pub, and the patrons downstairs fled for their lives."

Sendhil makes a face. “I smelled one of those once in India. I did not attempt to eat it,” he admits, laughing and shaking his head. “Yuck. I love mangos, though. And avocados, especially on fish tacos. I have a weakness for any stripe of taco.”

"Tacos," Daniel nods, taking this particular bit of information on board as their entrees are delivered, a plume of steam rising from his baked potato. "Is there something specific about tacos?"

“I’m not sure,” Sendhil says. “They’re just... damned good street food,” he shrugs. “Same in San Antonio and LA.” He tears off a piece of garlic bread and enthusiastically enjoys his buttery bite. “I feel spoiled sometimes. I mean, what if the fates had aligned differently? I could have been born in... Montana,” he shudders. “I might never have tasted a hush puppy, or molé.”

"Unthinkable!" Daniel grimaces. "Plus there's the snow. I'm just... not a fan of snow. You?"

“Only as a novelty, really. It only snowed a couple of inches at a time in San Antonio. There was a blizzard once when I was eleven that seemed epically cool, but I wouldn’t want that all the time. In London when it snowed it was just wet and gross,” Sendhil laughs, twirling pasta onto his fork.

"Snow in London also brings everything to a bloody standstill." Daniel shudders. "You went to Webber Douglas, before it was... Absorbed, I guess is the best description?" He pulls a face, the drama school was a venerable old establishment.

Sendhil nods. “Yeah. And I stayed there a little longer, after I got married. Olga’s Polish, but she likes London best of anywhere, and she was doing pretty well for a couple of seasons on Spooks, I don’t know if you’ve seen it? That was before Heroes started and we came out to LA.”

"Oh, she's that Olga." Daniel nods, familiar with her work on the program. "I do love London, but I have become spoiled by the sunshine. It does good things for my demeanor. Not that most people would know it. I guess I tend toward the melancholy, sometimes."

“Yeah, most English people know her from Spooks, most Americans know her for being half of the first lesbian kiss on a soap opera,” Sendhil laughs. “As for the sunshine, you’d better be careful. Stay here too long, you might accidentally become a joyful person,” he teases. “Though, you seem pretty cheerful to me.”

"Well, I'm always cheerier in good company," Daniel explains, and it's true. Being with Sendhil is taking some weight off of his shoulders that he didn't realize he'd been carrying. "And if I become a joyful person, then I can share that, too."

“To sharing joy,” Sendhil smiles, clinking his glass to Daniel’s.

"I can absolutely drink to that," Daniel raises his glass. "Absolutely."

[Sendhil is being written by the lovely vikki_a. Feedback loved & adored & will be used to provoke Sendhil into becoming a real boy.]