Cat and Mouse

CHAPTER NINE

Dan was aware quite immediately upon waking that he was an absolute idiot. But he was an idiot who really, really enjoyed the way Phil's body felt against him. Phil was warm. His bare chest felt hot pressed against Dan's back, his hands splayed over his chest. Dan couldn't really remember taking off his clothes the night before, but he could only be grateful that he'd managed to leave on his underwear.

Despite the fact that this whole situation could be summed as a giant fuck-up, Dan didn't regret it. He could remember last night; the fun he'd had for the first time in years, the drinks that'd made him feel light on his feet, his eyes wide and his hands flying through the air as he gestured about this topic or another. He remembered the way Phil had invited him to his bed, completely innocently, and how he'd wished for it to be less than so. He remembered the way Phil's lips had felt against his, warm and soft and gentle, making Dan want to pull him closer and closer, to hold him all night long.

But still, overshadowing all the wonder and delight he'd felt the night before was the fact that he was the Panther. He couldn't afford to date someone. He didn't have the time to waste nor was he willing to bring someone he cared about into something that could endanger them—what if the Raven realized Dan had someone he wanted to keep safe, and kidnapped Phil? And yes, Dan could admit he cared about him. He had when he was little, and though he'd tried to forget about him over the years, now that he was back he couldn't deny that he cared about him again. Not that the Raven would likely have much time for kidnapping people recently—he was sure to be busy with the non-criminals Dan had managed to get locked up.

Although Dan wasn't sure the Raven had a bad bone in him. He might like to think that his enemy could be daring and seditious enough to kidnap a person Dan cared about and threaten them, but the Raven just seemed too good for that. After all, he'd healed Dan, the one person he was constantly trying to capture. None of it made any sense.

On that rooftop, Dan had thought he was done for. Being the Panther had been all fun and games for years, but in that moment he'd thought that it was all finally coming to an end. There he was, weak and dizzy with blood lost, the Raven advancing on him, surely about to haul him to prison—and then the pain had left. Raven had used some ingenious invention on Dan, something that had made his skin knit together before his eyes, something that had filled his body with momentary adrenaline. It hadn't been long before he'd been leaping off that roof for all he was worth, desperate to get away and try to wrap his mind around everything that had happened. (And that jump had fucking hurt, by the way—the Raven hadn't been lying when he'd said Dan needed to keep off his feet for a while. He'd spent the entire next day laying in bed and plotting ways to find the Raven's base and steal some of his healing supplies.)

Even an entire day with nothing but time to think hadn't given Dan any insight into the Raven's brain. Maybe he was just crazy—there wasn't any good explanation for the Raven deciding to save him. Sure, he could go around spouting whatever bullshit he wanted about wanting to win fair and square, but no one was that noble.

The bad thing about having an entire day to think was that he couldn't spend all that time thinking about the Raven, his mind inevitably drifted to what he had done. Even now, he cringed thinking of how he'd persuaded the Raven. How anger had flushed through him, how he'd snapped at the hero to shut up. It was just like being a kid again, when he would slip up, make a mistake. There was always a moment before he realized what he'd done, a brief moment sort of like a pause, before the the world came crashing around him as Dan realized oh God I've done it again no no I've done it again!

And he'd thought he was past that now. The guilt had nearly consumed him as a kid—any time, every time—he'd done it. Watching their eyes glaze over, watching them serenely do whatever he said. The disgust he'd felt towards himself had been monumental, had been overwhelming, and for a moment on that rooftop he'd felt like that again. After all his years of being the Panther, of persuading people left and right to do his bidding, doing it by accident was still as terrifying and hurtful as it'd always been. Not to mention that there was that tiny, disgusting, feeling of guilt, knowing he'd done it to the Raven.