"Stall Tactics", Hawaii Five-O (shameless cliche fic!)
Title: STALL TACTICS
Author: alizarin_nyc
Fandom: Hawaii Five-O
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Un-beta’d. I’ll fix any mistakes you find.
Summary: It’s such a cliche: “undercover at a gay bar” and Danny’s not even sure they can pull it off. He’s not sure they should.
There is an arms deal about to go down in the men’s room at Fusion Waikiki and Danny is not at all surprised to find himself locked in a stall with Steve, listening in.
What he is surprised about is that Steve has chosen to continue their undercover charade and has pulled Danny up tight against his ass, and is braced like a porn star against the divider.
“What about the fags,” one voice says urgently.
“Unhhh,” Steve moans.
“See, what did I tell you? They aren’t paying any attention. Do you have the briefcase?”
Danny is struggling to pay attention, to remember where he stashed his firearm (in the back of his pants), and most importantly he is struggling to remain calm and mission-focused when his partner is half-jackknifed against the wall and pressing his backside into Danny’s groin. The urge to run his hands up and down Steve’s body is strangely intense, as is the desire to lean up and bite the back of his neck.
“What the fuck, McGarrett?” he manages, “Let’s arrest them for chrissakes.”
“Oh, not yet, not yet,” Steve says, breathy and loud enough for their audience to hear.
Danny hears chuckles from the washroom area.
“Jesus, this is ridiculous,” he swears.
Steve responds by reaching back and pulling Danny in tighter against him. He arches his back. One hand on Danny’s ass, the other over and around Danny’s neck. Steve pulls them flush and now Danny’s getting serious about hiding whatever is going on down below, he cannot bring himself to call it an erection. He will not admit that his partner is making him hard with their little charade. Hell no.
But if he breaks it off, if he protests, it’s going to look funny. He can’t very well walk out and say to the gun runners “oh hey, by the way, I’m not gay, not like that and not with him. And also, you’re under arrest.”
In truth, they haven’t heard what the money’s for - it could just be a drug deal, even though they have every reason to think that it’s serious weaponry being sold. They need to wait and find out where the stash is. They need to hear it all go down and then they need to follow their target and bust the whole thing wide open. And the only way to do that is to maintain cover. And cover means, apparently, his dick snug in the curve of Steve’s ass.
It’s all very covert, and normally Danny would get off on that. Figuratively speaking. But this particular assignment has him wearing too-tight jeans and a too-tight t-shirt and the entire length of Steve McGarrett writhing against him in a too-tight bathroom stall.
He’s fucked.
“Oh god,” Steve moans. “Fuuuuuuck.” Danny wants to tell him to shut the fuck up, that this isn’t a particularly hilarious game as far as Steve’s little games go, and that he’d rather be going a hundred miles an hour up the Pali highway or in a helicopter during a thunderstorm over Molokai’i with Steve at the controls than be in this particular place. In this particular position. Right now.
Danny clamps a hand over Steve’s mouth which only makes the moans more muffled and even, if it’s possible, sexier. Steve ruts back against him shamelessly and Danny is now not even remotely concerned about hiding how hard he is. Because he is, and the main concern now is what is he going to say when this is all over?
”Goddamn it, I can’t do this with those two fudge packers going at it over there.”
“This is my bar, this is where I do my business. Let the boys have their fun. In fact, I’m gonna make you sit here and listen to the whole thing before I give you what you came for.”
“It’s sick. You’re sick. Take the money.”
“In a minute.”
Danny wants to yell, “take the goddamn money!” But apparently, they are being listened to instead. The weapons dealer is a fucking pervert, isn’t that grand? Danny is starting to get a little pissed off. He and Steve could have easily hidden in the stall and faked the whole thing, but now Steve is touching and rutting and moaning and making it realer than it needs to be. And that’s freaking Danny out. And him freaking out over his attractive partner is making him pissed.
“Fine, you wanna fuck, let’s fuck,” he whispers in Steve’s ear. He expects Steve to struggle, to pull a ninja move on him and pin him face first in the toilet. But he goes almost boneless back against Danny and the hand in Danny’s hair tightens, bringing Danny’s mouth to Steve’s neck.
But it makes him angry all over again to think that somehow, in some way, he is being played.
Danny bites down on Steve’s neck, and keeps his hand over Steve’s mouth. He can’t think when Steve makes those noises. With his other hand he reaches around to rub his knuckles up and down Steve’s abs. If Steve isn’t aroused, he is going to be exceptionally embarrassed, and will pray the gun runners kill him swiftly. That’s not the case; his hand brushes the hardness underneath Steve’s jeans. Danny jerks his hand back, as if burned. Steve moves Danny’s hand back and he isn’t even listening to what’s going on outside the stall. He’s the most unprofessional cop in the world right now, and that is just so fucked up.
Danny squeezes Steve’s crotch hard enough to bruise. His mouth is still clamped down on Steve’s neck and his breath is coming hard out of his nostrils. He’s painfully aroused, the damn gay-club jeans are killing him. This is going way too far, Danny needs to stop and think about some things. But he’s angry, he’s turned on, and he does not know what he’s going to do when he needs to be the bad-guy catcher again.
Steve bites Danny’s hand and ouch, okay, he’s being really rough. He eases up, but continues to rut against Steve, and Steve continues to move with him. Danny wants to rip his clothes off. Suddenly he hears the outer door slam. “Fuck, fuck, they’re on the move.”
“Let’s go,” Steve says, and it’s his goddamn normal voice. His gun is out and he’s quick as lightning. He cracks open the door and peers out. “Rear exit, they’re headed for the back parking lot.”
And just like that Danny’s a cop again, taking the front, moving around the side of the club, ready to back up his partner when they confront the bad guys. It’s seamless, really. Steve shoots one of them, of course, but the unmarked van is full of neatly packed explosives. The perverted one’s got his hands up and his gun is in one hand, the briefcase in the other. Backup arrives on the scene, and then Danny is standing there, getting the once-over from Kono and Chin.
“What? What. It’s called undercover. Something you guys need to learn how to do, so I don’t have to do all the work around here.”
“Okay,” Chin says. “You’ll have to give me fashion tips though.” He and Kono are not even trying to pretend to keep straight faces.
“Stop staring at me.” Danny huffs off, faintly outraged. He doesn’t get any respect. And he cannot look Steve in the eye right now. He goes to the front parking lot and stands by himself in the dark. Steve’s his ride, so he ends up pacing around until Steve is finished handing over the case to HPD. Gay men come out of the bar in a steady stream, laughing and kissing softly. Some of them give him a distinctly predatory look.
“Hey,” Steve says, sauntering over after what seems like much longer than 30 minutes.
“Oh, hey,” Danny mimics. “First of all...” he begins. He is geared up for a major league rant. A rant of such epic proportions Steve will never, ever recover. He’s going to bring it home like a Baptist preacher. About inappropriate behavior among colleagues. About giving a guy some warning. About boundaries, plain and simple.
Steve strides up to him, places both hands on his head and kisses him, full on the mouth. Boundaries! Danny’s mind shouts.
“Man, that made me horny,” Steve says, after completely devouring Danny’s mouth. “My place?”
“Sorry, wait. What. What is this,” Danny is pressed so close to Steve that his arm waving isn’t really working so well. “We don’t, we aren’t... just stop already, Christ.”
“Stop? Now? Are you kidding? Don’t tell me you weren’t just as turned on as I was by that.”
“I. Yes. You caught me off guard! I don’t know what you were thinking! You’re a stuntman by nature, but this, this my friend, is the craziest stunt you’ve ever pulled.”
“But,” Steve looks lost. He looks disappointed. This is such new information to Danny he cannot process it all at once. “I thought you... and that I...”
“What. What?” He cannot abide it if Steve is going to pout. He cannot.
“So you don’t want to come over?”
“Hell yes, I want to come over,” Danny’s mouth is not working in tandem with his brain, obviously. “I want to put my mouth on you, I want to take you apart, slowly. I want to...”
“Then stop talking, please,” Steve says, and practically sprints to the car.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” Danny says. And he can’t, he really, really can’t.
“How fast can you drive?”
.
Author: alizarin_nyc
Fandom: Hawaii Five-O
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Un-beta’d. I’ll fix any mistakes you find.
Summary: It’s such a cliche: “undercover at a gay bar” and Danny’s not even sure they can pull it off. He’s not sure they should.
There is an arms deal about to go down in the men’s room at Fusion Waikiki and Danny is not at all surprised to find himself locked in a stall with Steve, listening in.
What he is surprised about is that Steve has chosen to continue their undercover charade and has pulled Danny up tight against his ass, and is braced like a porn star against the divider.
“What about the fags,” one voice says urgently.
“Unhhh,” Steve moans.
“See, what did I tell you? They aren’t paying any attention. Do you have the briefcase?”
Danny is struggling to pay attention, to remember where he stashed his firearm (in the back of his pants), and most importantly he is struggling to remain calm and mission-focused when his partner is half-jackknifed against the wall and pressing his backside into Danny’s groin. The urge to run his hands up and down Steve’s body is strangely intense, as is the desire to lean up and bite the back of his neck.
“What the fuck, McGarrett?” he manages, “Let’s arrest them for chrissakes.”
“Oh, not yet, not yet,” Steve says, breathy and loud enough for their audience to hear.
Danny hears chuckles from the washroom area.
“Jesus, this is ridiculous,” he swears.
Steve responds by reaching back and pulling Danny in tighter against him. He arches his back. One hand on Danny’s ass, the other over and around Danny’s neck. Steve pulls them flush and now Danny’s getting serious about hiding whatever is going on down below, he cannot bring himself to call it an erection. He will not admit that his partner is making him hard with their little charade. Hell no.
But if he breaks it off, if he protests, it’s going to look funny. He can’t very well walk out and say to the gun runners “oh hey, by the way, I’m not gay, not like that and not with him. And also, you’re under arrest.”
In truth, they haven’t heard what the money’s for - it could just be a drug deal, even though they have every reason to think that it’s serious weaponry being sold. They need to wait and find out where the stash is. They need to hear it all go down and then they need to follow their target and bust the whole thing wide open. And the only way to do that is to maintain cover. And cover means, apparently, his dick snug in the curve of Steve’s ass.
It’s all very covert, and normally Danny would get off on that. Figuratively speaking. But this particular assignment has him wearing too-tight jeans and a too-tight t-shirt and the entire length of Steve McGarrett writhing against him in a too-tight bathroom stall.
He’s fucked.
“Oh god,” Steve moans. “Fuuuuuuck.” Danny wants to tell him to shut the fuck up, that this isn’t a particularly hilarious game as far as Steve’s little games go, and that he’d rather be going a hundred miles an hour up the Pali highway or in a helicopter during a thunderstorm over Molokai’i with Steve at the controls than be in this particular place. In this particular position. Right now.
Danny clamps a hand over Steve’s mouth which only makes the moans more muffled and even, if it’s possible, sexier. Steve ruts back against him shamelessly and Danny is now not even remotely concerned about hiding how hard he is. Because he is, and the main concern now is what is he going to say when this is all over?
”Goddamn it, I can’t do this with those two fudge packers going at it over there.”
“This is my bar, this is where I do my business. Let the boys have their fun. In fact, I’m gonna make you sit here and listen to the whole thing before I give you what you came for.”
“It’s sick. You’re sick. Take the money.”
“In a minute.”
Danny wants to yell, “take the goddamn money!” But apparently, they are being listened to instead. The weapons dealer is a fucking pervert, isn’t that grand? Danny is starting to get a little pissed off. He and Steve could have easily hidden in the stall and faked the whole thing, but now Steve is touching and rutting and moaning and making it realer than it needs to be. And that’s freaking Danny out. And him freaking out over his attractive partner is making him pissed.
“Fine, you wanna fuck, let’s fuck,” he whispers in Steve’s ear. He expects Steve to struggle, to pull a ninja move on him and pin him face first in the toilet. But he goes almost boneless back against Danny and the hand in Danny’s hair tightens, bringing Danny’s mouth to Steve’s neck.
But it makes him angry all over again to think that somehow, in some way, he is being played.
Danny bites down on Steve’s neck, and keeps his hand over Steve’s mouth. He can’t think when Steve makes those noises. With his other hand he reaches around to rub his knuckles up and down Steve’s abs. If Steve isn’t aroused, he is going to be exceptionally embarrassed, and will pray the gun runners kill him swiftly. That’s not the case; his hand brushes the hardness underneath Steve’s jeans. Danny jerks his hand back, as if burned. Steve moves Danny’s hand back and he isn’t even listening to what’s going on outside the stall. He’s the most unprofessional cop in the world right now, and that is just so fucked up.
Danny squeezes Steve’s crotch hard enough to bruise. His mouth is still clamped down on Steve’s neck and his breath is coming hard out of his nostrils. He’s painfully aroused, the damn gay-club jeans are killing him. This is going way too far, Danny needs to stop and think about some things. But he’s angry, he’s turned on, and he does not know what he’s going to do when he needs to be the bad-guy catcher again.
Steve bites Danny’s hand and ouch, okay, he’s being really rough. He eases up, but continues to rut against Steve, and Steve continues to move with him. Danny wants to rip his clothes off. Suddenly he hears the outer door slam. “Fuck, fuck, they’re on the move.”
“Let’s go,” Steve says, and it’s his goddamn normal voice. His gun is out and he’s quick as lightning. He cracks open the door and peers out. “Rear exit, they’re headed for the back parking lot.”
And just like that Danny’s a cop again, taking the front, moving around the side of the club, ready to back up his partner when they confront the bad guys. It’s seamless, really. Steve shoots one of them, of course, but the unmarked van is full of neatly packed explosives. The perverted one’s got his hands up and his gun is in one hand, the briefcase in the other. Backup arrives on the scene, and then Danny is standing there, getting the once-over from Kono and Chin.
“What? What. It’s called undercover. Something you guys need to learn how to do, so I don’t have to do all the work around here.”
“Okay,” Chin says. “You’ll have to give me fashion tips though.” He and Kono are not even trying to pretend to keep straight faces.
“Stop staring at me.” Danny huffs off, faintly outraged. He doesn’t get any respect. And he cannot look Steve in the eye right now. He goes to the front parking lot and stands by himself in the dark. Steve’s his ride, so he ends up pacing around until Steve is finished handing over the case to HPD. Gay men come out of the bar in a steady stream, laughing and kissing softly. Some of them give him a distinctly predatory look.
“Hey,” Steve says, sauntering over after what seems like much longer than 30 minutes.
“Oh, hey,” Danny mimics. “First of all...” he begins. He is geared up for a major league rant. A rant of such epic proportions Steve will never, ever recover. He’s going to bring it home like a Baptist preacher. About inappropriate behavior among colleagues. About giving a guy some warning. About boundaries, plain and simple.
Steve strides up to him, places both hands on his head and kisses him, full on the mouth. Boundaries! Danny’s mind shouts.
“Man, that made me horny,” Steve says, after completely devouring Danny’s mouth. “My place?”
“Sorry, wait. What. What is this,” Danny is pressed so close to Steve that his arm waving isn’t really working so well. “We don’t, we aren’t... just stop already, Christ.”
“Stop? Now? Are you kidding? Don’t tell me you weren’t just as turned on as I was by that.”
“I. Yes. You caught me off guard! I don’t know what you were thinking! You’re a stuntman by nature, but this, this my friend, is the craziest stunt you’ve ever pulled.”
“But,” Steve looks lost. He looks disappointed. This is such new information to Danny he cannot process it all at once. “I thought you... and that I...”
“What. What?” He cannot abide it if Steve is going to pout. He cannot.
“So you don’t want to come over?”
“Hell yes, I want to come over,” Danny’s mouth is not working in tandem with his brain, obviously. “I want to put my mouth on you, I want to take you apart, slowly. I want to...”
“Then stop talking, please,” Steve says, and practically sprints to the car.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” Danny says. And he can’t, he really, really can’t.
“How fast can you drive?”
.