H50 FPS - Steve/Danny - it's just you and me in this fire
Title: it's just you and me in this fire
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Rating: 18+
Disclaimer: This is fiction, which means it's not true. I just have a healthy imagination. No offence or copyright infringment intended.
A/N: Sooo, for all those people who wanted it, this is the long-awaited sequel to I would not just leave you without a kiss. It has taken me many months to get this finished, I tell you. Beta'd by the lovely iam_space, any remaining errors are down to me and my Britishness! Big love also to theellibu, delicatale, gunslingaaahhh and finduilas_clln for the handholding and cheerleading along the way!! Thank you, ladies! <3
Title from Narc by Interpol.
---
Hawaii, 2010
This, Danny thinks, this is the very definition of the short straw, and after almost six months of being the new guy here, he’s seen more than his fair share of short straws. Not that he’s surprised, obviously; he remembers what happened to the guys who transferred into his precinct back in Jersey, and some of them were only coming from over the Hudson. If he thought Newark was close-knit, then HPD is members-only, platinum Diners’ Card territory.
So, anyway, of course it falls to him to look into this case. The ex-cop shot in his own study by a crazed terrorist, over some grudge against the guy’s son. Of course it’s Danny’s job to come and check over the crime scene, because he’s the only one chasing any leads. Well, okay, maybe that’s not fair on Meka, because he’s been trawling through the same case files as Danny, but he’s the one who gets granted a week’s leave even though Danny’s had his request in longer. Fucking office politics.
Which is why Danny’s extra pissed when he walks onto the McGarrett property and finds the crime scene tape tampered with and the front door of the house wide open, not to mention the fact that his feet are soaked and his shoes are ruined from the puddle he stepped into when he got out of his car.
“For the love of...”
Danny sighs, gun already in hand as he makes his way through the house, alert for anyone or anything that might be on the premises. There’s a rattling sound in the garage that draws his attention and the faint sound of a male voice.
“Great.”
He quickens his pace, raising his gun as he steps through the connecting door to the garage and sees the back of a dark-haired head. He’s already shouting as he rounds the covered over car, watching the guy spin around and raise his own gun, training it quickly on Danny.
“You! Hands up! Don’t move!”
“Who are you?”
“Who are you? I am Detective Danny Williams, an-”
Danny only catches the guy’s surname as they talk over each other, guns still drawn, getting into a childish discussion about how to show each other their ID; he’s obviously a relative of the victim, but seriously, where does he get off coming in and contaminating Danny’s crime scene?
Danny’s way beyond pissed now, and it only gets worse as he listens to the guy - who, okay, might’ve piqued Danny’s interest had they met under other circumstances; it’s not like he’s been beaten with the ugly stick - call the fucking Governor and, what, get himself sworn in? Is that even legally binding, doing it over the phone?
“Now it’s my crime scene.”
Danny grits his teeth and curses in every language he knows.
**
He doesn’t bother going back to the station, fresh socks and dry shoes are more pressing given that by now he’s sure that Commander McGarrett has already been to see his Captain and yank all his case files. It starts raining again just as the door to his shitty little apartment closes behind him, so he’s thankful for small mercies, at least.
He thinks about calling his Ma for a moment and asking if he was really such a bad kid that he deserves this kind of karma at this stage of his life, but in the end he settles for flopping onto his unmade fold-out bed and gazing up at the ceiling.
“Why?”
As usual, there’s no answer from the ceiling, or God, or whoever he was asking. He changes his shoes and socks, and is considering just how wet he’d get if he made a run for his car to go get some lunch when there’s a fist pounding on his door. It’s only the fact that he’s been thinking about his mother and karma that he opens it as quickly as he does, especially when he sees who’s standing there.
“I swung by your precinct -”
No ‘hello’, no ‘how do you do?’ nothing. Danny’s lack of surprise is only matched by the rising anger in the pit of his stomach.
“- spoke to your captain who said you requested a wire report on someone named Fred Doran. Tell me about him.”
Danny barely has time to step to the side before he’s being barged past, catching a face full of spray as McGarrett’s wet shoulder passes by his face. There’s something that niggles Danny about this guy, besides the arrogance, but right now he’s too cranky to think straight and work out what it is. The guy just stole his case from right under his nose and now he’s pushing his way into Danny’s home - which, okay, is pretty crappy, but it’s his own personal space, and he grew up in a household where that was a very precious commodity, alright? Even that thought in relation to McGarrett makes his brow crinkle with something he can’t put a name to. Huh.
“Come in.”
Danny closes the door, turning to watch McGarrett as he looks around, prodding and poking as if Danny’s home is some kind of exhibit; the modern divorcé in his natural habitat. Danny’s scowl deepens when McGarrett points at his picture of Grace.
“This your kid?”
“Yeah, that’s stunning detective work.”
McGarrett smirks, looking around and gesturing to the rest of Danny’s apartment. Danny bristles, his fight or flight reactions pointing firmly towards fight.
“You don’t actually let her stay here with you, do you? This place is -”
“Yeah, it’s a crap-hole, I get it. You think I don’t know that? I have to live here. Not all of us can afford those nice beach-front duplexes you grew up in.”
“Yeah, but, here? You’re seriously telling me you couldn’t afford better than this?”
"Hey, this place is a palace compared to the other places the realtor showed me. My budget is somewhat limited since my ex-wife fucked me in the ass. Alimony? Moving to the middle of the freaking Pacific? On a cop's salary? Forgive me for reliving my college days when it comes to my living arrangements.”
Danny’s mouth goes dry at the same time his palms start sweating. This is weird.
“Uh.”
They fix wide eyes on each other in the same moment, the file in McGarrett’s - Steve’s - hand slipping onto the floor with an explosion of paper. That’s it. Holy shit. McGarrett. Steve McGarrett. Holy shit!
“Shit.”
“Let me -”
“I got it.”
Danny moves away as quickly as he’d bent to help, trying to force the mental images of a naked Steve back out of his brain. A naked, twenty-one year old Steve, with a bruise under his eye, kneeling between Danny’s spread legs as he rolls a condom on. From the way Steve’s face just closed down, Danny’s pretty sure there's been a pretty massive collective penny dropping here.
Steve gets the papers back into the file, but doesn’t look at Danny when he stands up.
"I should. I mean, we should. Let's go."
"We? What? Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute here. Just because we - did something in college, there's no 'we'."
Steve looks at him finally, although his gaze skitters over Danny's face, only meeting his eyes for the shortest time necessary.
"The Governor has asked me to set up a taskforce, and I'm making you my partner. That's what I came to tell you."
"You can't do that."
"Too late, I already have. I've got jurisdiction. We're, uh, gonna get along great."
Steve gives him a forced smile and heads back out into the rain.
Well, fuck.
**
Danny's only been fortunate enough to wake up with his dick in someone's mouth a couple of times in his life, so the joy he feels at being jolted out of a fairly filthy dream to find it coming true is unconfined.
"Oh, God."
The mouth on his dick smiles, he can feel the curve of lips, but doesn't stop what it's doing. Danny arches his back, reaching down under the sheets with one hand to grab the back of the head controlling the amazing mouth, the other scratching his chest, fingertips flicking a nipple when he comes across it.
"Yeah. Yeah, fuck, that's good. Should get a medal, just for this. You get - medals in the Navy, right? Give you one myself."
There's a choking sound from under the sheet that might be laughter but Danny doesn't care. He's still half asleep and he knows he's talking bullshit and there's a mouth and a tongue doing awesome things to his cock - oh, and now his balls too. Oh, yeah.
Danny groans, loud and long, when Steve's fingers start probing between his legs, opening him up and sliding into Danny's ass. When Steve's tongue slips into his ass as well Danny thinks he might just lose his mind before the night is over.
**
Danny tries really hard to concentrate on driving and not on the memories that keep wanting to surface. He feels stupid for not recognizing Steve's name or even the picture in his dad's file. He'd dreamt about Steve for weeks after that night, but then, inevitably, there'd been someone else, a girl or a boy, and Danny's fantasies had moved on with him. And then, of course, had come Rachel.
Danny sighs and twists his hands on the wheel, foot pressing harder on the accelerator. The quicker they get to their suspect, the quicker he can go home and forget about this day. If he’s lucky, when he wakes up in the morning, it’ll all have been a dream and he won’t be partnered up with one of his college one-night-stands.
**
He’s not that lucky. In fact, he’s pretty sure he’s never been this unlucky. He’s been shot at, bitten, and almost knocked out. The only slight consolation is that he finally got to land a punch on McGarrett’s smug face, not to mention the fact that they’ve picked up a couple of extra team members, so at least Danny’s going to have some kind of buffer between him and Steve. A buffer he’s sorely in need of as he stands on the beach behind the McGarrett house, trying not to watch Steve change his shirt.
He looks out across the water instead, watching the surf roll in slowly, the sun setting over the horizon. It’s yet another picture postcard evening in paradise. It’d make him sick, except he keeps getting glimpses of Steve’s skin next to him and there are tattoos where there weren’t before, and he’s put on about fifty pounds of muscle, and he just looks so fucking good. Yeah, Danny’s shit out of luck.
“So, is this gonna be difficult?”
“What?”
“Working together. After, you know, what happened.”
Danny turns now, facing Steve properly as he gets his arms into his fresh shirt, held out away from his body as he talks. Danny wishes he’d just hurry up and put the damn thing on.
“Why, is it going to be difficult for you?”
Danny knows he’s being evasive but what is he going to say? ‘Yes, actually, it’s going to be extremely trying to work alongside you when I can close my eyes and picture you naked and sweaty and fucking me very enthusiastically. Thanks for bringing it up.’
Steve shrugs, finally pulling the t-shirt over his head and Danny lets out what’s probably a very badly disguised shaky breath.
“I don’t know yet. We’re different people now, right?”
“I guess so.”
Steve nods, apparently satisfied with that. Danny’s glad one of them is.
**
Danny moans another curse, threading his fingers through Steve’s hair and combing through it, over and over, letting its softness tickle his palm as the scratch of Steve’s stubble burns the inside of his thighs.
He swallows hard when Steve hums, the vibrations muted but still a sensation he wasn’t expecting. His hand slips from the back of Steve’s head to his dick, still wet from Steve’s mouth and harder than ever. He closes his fist around it tightly, knuckles brushing Steve’s forehead as he moves, dragging his tongue up over Danny’s balls and then over his fingers, taking the head of Danny’s cock into his mouth even as Danny keeps stroking himself.
“Oh, shit. That feels so fucking good.”
Danny slides his fingers into Steve’s mouth on the upstroke, his stomach clenching when Steve licks around them as he circles the crown, then releases them with a wet noise and Danny pushes his hips up to move his dick through his grip and deeper into Steve’s mouth. Steve’s fingers are still moving in and out of his ass, and Danny knows he’s gonna be sore in the morning, but fuck it. Tomorrow’s Sunday, he doesn’t have anywhere to be, and right now he’s certainly going nowhere.
“Steve. Steve, fuck me.”
**
They stay drinking on Steve’s beach long after the sun has disappeared into the ocean, long after Chin’s phone call about tomorrow’s mission. Danny knows he should’ve left hours ago, that this reconnection or whatever it is should’ve waited until they’ve wrapped up this case, until Steve’s had time to grieve, until they’ve both had time to get their heads around this. He doesn’t though. He stays and the sun sets and the beer supply eventually dwindles to the point where it’s time for hard liquor or a run to the store.
“I should - I should go.”
Danny has to clear his throat halfway through the sentence to get his voice to work properly.
“You could stay.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s such a great idea, do you? You shouldn’t even be staying here; this place is still a crime scene.”
Danny winces as soon as the words are out and looks away over the darkened water instead of at Steve. He rubs the back of his neck, grains of sand stuck to his skin and itching under his shirt collar. Stuff gets everywhere.
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“There are like a thousand hotels on this island alone, McGarrett. Pick one and go there. You and I both need a few hours of decent sleep before tomorrow; are you really telling me you’ll be able to get that here?”
Danny turns to face Steve again, watching him shrug where he sits, sprawled in a deck chair. The label from his latest beer lies in shreds on his thighs.
“Why do you care?”
“Oh, well, you see, someone decided he was going to make me his partner, and told me we had to get along, so you know, I figure that means making sure he gets some sleep and is therefore alert enough not to get us killed the following day.”
“’Therefore’?”
“Fuck you; I went to college.”
This gets a smile out of Steve that Danny wishes wouldn’t make his stomach clench like that. Really. Not convenient at all.
“I know.”
Danny can't help but smile back, and now he really, really needs to go. He slaps both hands on his thighs before he gets up, hard enough to leave them stinging as he gets to his feet. He can feel his knees creaking like the old man he's turning into and the bullet graze on his arm is throbbing a little. He needs to change the dressing and take some painkillers as soon as he gets home, otherwise he's going to sack out on the couch and wake up with an infection and wouldn't that be 'just grand', as Rachel used to say.
"So, uh, call me. In the morning. I'll give you a ride."
Steve nods, standing as well. He looks tired beyond anything Danny could withstand. Guess that's the SEAL training, he thinks. Danny looks around as they walk back through the house, pausing at the front door to say goodnight.
"Don't stay here tonight, McGarrett. I mean it."
"Go back to your rat hole, Danny. I'll call you in the morning."
**
Danny pushes the sheets down and away, looking down as Steve lifts his eyes. He can only barely see in the dimness; there are only the street lights outside casting any light in the apartment. If Steve is in any way startled by Danny’s panted demand then Danny will never know, and as Steve is now moving back up his body, kissing along his heated skin as he goes, Danny guesses that Steve is more than on board.
“You always talk this much during sex?”
“Hey, I’m Jersey born and raised, buddy. This is what you get.”
Steve smirks, his eyes catching enough light to glitter with what could, in a very different situation, be described as menace. Right now it only serves to make Danny’s cock jump against his stomach, his heart rate increasing as Steve looms over him before he leans in and presses a sound kiss to Danny’s mouth. Danny can taste himself on Steve’s tongue as it slides against his own, then curls up to lick at his soft palate, tickling along his gums. Danny lets Steve settle on top of him again, bodies pressed tight together, sweaty and sticky, and fumbles around next to them for the condoms.
**
If there’s something Danny’s had enough of lately, it’s unpacking. Not that he had much to unpack when he arrived in Hawaii, but the intense dislike is still there. Setting up his new office at the Task Force headquarters is no different. There are boxes and people and equipment everywhere, not to mention the fact that he’s pretty much dead on his feet after the day they’ve had. If he never sees another Chinese freighter it’ll be too soon. Not to mention McGarrett and his somewhat reckless tendencies. He’s finding it hard to match up the Steve from his memories, who had been funny and charming and, well, sane, with this hard-faced new version.
“Hey.”
Danny looks up from his desk at the sound of Steve’s voice, taking in the sling and the bruises mottling his skin with greens and purples, the cut on his lower lip. He looks like hell, but that doesn’t appear to have stopped Danny’s heart from beating a little faster. Steve advances toward the desk, sliding an envelope across the surface and then turning to leave immediately.
“What, uh, what is this?”
Danny picks it up, waving it in Steve’s direction when he stops in the doorway and comes back to stand on the other side of the desk. Danny can feel his eyebrows lift as he waits for Steve to answer.
“Three nights at the Kahala hotel. Look, I know you’re gonna say no -”
“Yeah, you’re right I’m gonna say no. What is it with you and my living arrangements?”
Danny needs to have words with his brain about engaging with his mouth before letting stuff come out of it. His heartbeat stutters for a moment, watching Steve, his eyes flickering briefly with something before he shuts it down, hiding behind that stupid stoic expression - another thing that doesn’t match up to Danny’s memories.
“Look, Grace’s coming over this weekend, right?”
"Yeah -"
Steve doesn't let him protest, just barrels on talking about the pool and swimming with dolphins, all the while looking so fucking earnest despite being battered and bruised. When did he even have the time to go and buy this? On his way back from the hospital? Did he already have them before today? Danny can only nod, a little dumb, his fingers still twirling the envelope around.
"I - thanks. Thank you."
Steve smiles, softer than the smug grin Danny was expecting and making his stomach contract painfully.
"You're welcome."
Steve's halfway out of the door when Danny finds his voice, clearing his throat lightly before he speaks.
"And what about you?"
"What about me?"
Danny sighs. The man is willfully obtuse when he wants to be.
"Where are you staying this weekend? Please don't tell me you're going back there."
"It's my home, Danny."
“It’s a crime scene, Steven.”
“Oh, really? Thanks for the reminder. That must be, what, the fifth time you’ve said that to me in the past two days?”
Steve’s face is hard all of a sudden, his jaw clenched tightly under bruised skin. Danny rounds the desk, dropping the envelope on it as he goes. He pushes the door closed and tugs Steve inside in one motion, leaving his hand on Steve’s arm. He can smell the lingering scent of antiseptic from the hospital on Steve’s clothes now that he’s this close to him.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Why don’t you come over to my place for tonight? I’m not getting Gracie until the morning. We can send a cleaning crew over to your house tonight and I’ll drop you off on my way to Rachel’s.”
“Your place?”
“It’s not a palace, and it doesn’t have its own beach, or even a front porch, but it’s got a TV and beer and, uh, and me.”
Danny’s stomach absolutely doesn’t twist inside him as he says that, looking up into Steve’s face. His eyes are pretty unreadable right now and Danny isn’t sure he hasn’t crossed some line here, but if he and Steve are going to work together - as partners no less - then they’re going to have to get through this awkward getting to know you stage pretty damn fast.
“That wasn’t - I wasn’t propositioning you.”
Steve laughs and Danny’s head is filled with memories again, of low conversations in the dark, whispers and murmurs that lead to yet another round of sex. Danny’s always wondered how Steve had ever managed to drive back to Annapolis after that little sleep. Maybe now he’ll get the chance to ask.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll come to your place.”
Danny nods, feeling a smile fix itself on his face that hasn’t been there for a while. He ushers Steve out into the bullpen, gesturing around at all the boxes and packing tape as they walk over to join Chin and Kono.
“So, you just requisitioned all this? I assume you filled out all the correct forms. Or did the Governor give you leave to disregard those as well?”
“Oh, I’m sure you can handle a few forms, right, Danno?”
“I will break your other arm, McGarrett.”
**
They keep kissing while Steve’s hands work between them to get the condom on his dick, the rubber catching the hair between Danny’s thighs when he rocks up to chase Steve’s body as he moves away. Danny watches him toss the condom wrapper off the side of the bed and dribble some more lube on his fingers. He looks like every fantasy Danny ever had; he’s pretty sure that before tonight guys like Steve only existed in porn flicks.
“Turn over this time.”
Danny rolls over onto his front at Steve’s gentle nudge of encouragement, propped up on his hands and looking back through his legs as Steve slides his fingers back inside him, cool lube dripping over Danny’s balls and onto the sheets. He shivers as Steve runs his tongue up the length of his spine, his teeth catching Danny’s earlobe before he sucks it into his mouth, making Danny shiver.
"Oh, God."
He can't stop his back from arching as Steve's fingers rake over his prostate again and again, biting his lip to keep from moaning too loudly. Steve keeps pressing kisses over his shoulders and neck, his free hand stroking up and down Danny's thigh, until every inch of Danny's skin feels electrified.
"Steve. Steve, please. You gotta fuck me. Come on, come on, fuck me. Please."
Danny's breathless with want, sweat running down his face and into his eyes, burning. He tries to lift a hand to reach back for Steve but he can't manage to hold his weight on the other, so he just spreads his legs wider and pushes back onto Steve's fingers, forcing them in deeper, rutting back and forth.
"Jesus Christ, Danny. You know what you look like right now?"
"Don't - give a shit, Steve."
**
It’s pretty late by the time Danny lets himself into his apartment, a tired Steve looming behind him and listing slightly to the right. Danny steers him towards the couch and goes to fix them both a drink. His hand hovers over the coffee maker for a moment before he decides ‘fuck it’ and grabs a couple of beers from the fridge instead. He’s got a bottle of single malt they can crack into later - if Steve doesn’t pass out before then.
“Hey, McGarrett.”
“Hmm?”
Danny holds one of the beers out to him before falling down onto the couch himself. He winds up far closer to Steve than he meant to be, his thigh pressed against Steve’s, their elbows knocking as they raise their bottles to their lips at the same time. Neither of them seems to have any inclination to move away though. He settles back into the lumpy cushions, digging the remote out from under his ass and thumbing the TV on. It’s late enough that there’s only infomercials on but he needs the background noise to cover the pounding of his heart.
Steve leans back next to him, eyes half closed when Danny turns to look at him, and he can’t help but compare this profile with the one he remembers lying next to him, panting breathlessly in the dull light of the small hours. There are more lines around his eyes, now, and the line of his jaw is stronger, sharper, even if his lips look as inviting as they did back then. Danny licks his own at the memory and looks away again to stare down into his beer. He’s got to get a grip on himself, ignore all these memories. It was one, meaningless night, a long time ago; it’s not worth jeopardizing what could be an amazing new job over.
He repeats his new mantra silently to himself for a while and it feels like it’s working until Steve leans across him to steal the remote, and Danny gets a deep breath of just how good Steve smells and fuck his life, Steve’s still using the same aftershave.
“You could’ve just asked.”
Danny’s mouth is dry and the words come out a little throatier than he’d like but Steve just shrugs at him and starts flicking channels.
“You really have the attention span of an eight-year-old, don’t you? I hope they never put you in a submarine. Did they? I saw that look, what does that look mean? Oh, I bet it’s classified, isn’t it?”
Danny turns more towards Steve, watching his face openly now, the way his gaze narrows before he shrugs, his focus still on the channels he’s flicking through. Danny panics for a second that he’ll find some really bad porn movie or something, which would just be the world’s lamest come on, even considering neither of them have seen sober for a few hours now. Also, Danny’s treacherous brain suggests, considering that Danny is pretty much a sure thing if Steve were to just ask. Hell, he probably only needs to incline his head a certain way and Danny would be on his knees for him.
“You know what? Never mind. I don’t need to know. Just - just pick a channel and stay there, would you? You’re making me dizzy.”
Steve stops, making a big production out of putting the remote down on the packing box that serves as a coffee table and crossing his arms afterwards. Danny wishes he wouldn’t because now his biceps are bulging out from under his shirt sleeves - he’d lost the sling he was wearing earlier sometime around their third beer back at HQ - and Danny has a hard time tearing his eyes away. He forces himself to watch the TV instead where someone is trying to sell them a halogen oven.
“Happy now?"
"Ecstatic."
They lapse back into silence, glancing at each other every now and then. Danny's throat goes dry whenever he catches Steve looking at him, his stomach twisting tighter in itself.
**
Steve smiles into his skin, grabbing Danny's hip and stopping him from moving as he slides his fingers back out again, and finally Danny feels Steve's cockhead pushing against his hole, pausing there for a second before he's filling him up, slow and steady.
"Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes."
Danny repeats it under his breath as Steve bottoms out, his balls resting against Danny's, his front plastered to Danny's back. Everything feels sticky and wet; slick running down the backs of his thighs as Steve pulls out and pushes back in, starting to move faster as Danny rocks on his hands and knees, settling into a rhythm that is going to make it hard for Danny to sit down tomorrow. Not that he cares.
Steve's left hand stays on his hip, fingers digging in, while the right slides up over Danny's back to grab his shoulder, pulling him back until his only choice is to go with it, letting Steve take his weight with him as he leans back.
"Oh, fuck!"
Danny can't hold back his shout this time as he ends up straddling Steve's lap, Steve's dick so deeply inside him that every tiny movement seems amplified, the smallest circle of Steve's hips making his cock jerk against his belly where it's standing almost straight up. Danny all but whimpers as he gets a hand to it at last, clinging onto Steve's forearm with the other. He jerks himself off while Steve sucks on his neck, mumbling and grunting into Danny's ear between labored breaths.
**
Danny wakes the next morning with the sour taste of a hangover in his mouth and an empty bed. He coughs and grimaces at the noise before listening out to try and hear if Steve is somewhere in the apartment, but there's no sound beyond his own breathing. He can't say he's surprised but he might just be a little disappointed. They'd pulled the bed out a few hours and a few more beers after getting home, conversation limited to discussions of how ridiculous the items being demonstrated on TV in front of them, the elephant in the room roundly ignored.
Danny hauls himself upright and staggers to the bathroom, pissing and brushing his teeth on autopilot before tugging off his clothes and clambering into the shower. He offers a silent prayer to the water pressure gods and mutters a hallelujah when the stream that runs over his head is blissfully strong.
He washes up slowly, his arm stinging as the soap runs over his stitches, reminding him of the day before. He can't believe what he's been through in the past 48 hours, since McGarrett came back into his life. Now that he's more awake, he remembers waking briefly in the night, long enough to hear the sounds of someone throwing up in his bathroom, followed by the front door closing behind Steve as he'd left. Danny had simply passed out again once the darkness had settled once more.
He wonders if he should go over to Steve's later, take him - what? A casserole? He really is turning into his mother if that is the first thing that comes to his mind. The thought of taking beer or anything alcoholic right now is just making his stomach turn, however.
This task force of theirs, it's going to be interesting.
**
Danny opens his mouth to warn Steve that he's about to come, but all he can manage is a strangled noise that might be Steve's name before he's coming over his hand and the sheets beneath them.
“Fuck, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.”
Steve’s groaned encouragement stumbles with his stuttered breathing, the words catching somewhere along the way. Danny sags back into Steve’s chest when he can’t give anymore and reaches back, unthinking, with his now dripping hand to grab the back of Steve’s neck, twisting until he can catch Steve’s lips in a kiss. It doesn’t last long, neither of them able to breathe well enough right now, and Steve rests his forehead against Danny’s as he gives one last thrust of his hips and comes, body trembling and panting Danny’s name into his open mouth.
**
Danny dry swallows a few times when he steps out of his office, stopping dead in the bull pen when he sees Steve leaning against the computer table, his eyes closed, apparently deep in thought. Today’s been tough on all of them and Danny really just wants to go home and sleep for the next two days but they all agreed that they wanted to do this for Kono, because she more than deserves this, to be celebrated and congratulated and given the right passage into this crazy career they’ve all made for themselves. Which is why instead of being on his way home to sleep, Danny’s currently standing in the middle of HQ looking at Steve in that uniform that has haunted his dreams for over a decade, consciously or not.
He tugs at his own stiff dress uniform jacket and takes another couple of hesitant steps forward, clearing his throat when Steve’s eyes blink open slowly. He watches as Steve looks him up and down, the dryness in his mouth only getting worse when Steve’s gaze catches his own at last, and all the sparks that flew across a bathroom at a college football stadium are back in full force. Danny almost feels breathless.
“Hey.”
Steve’s voice is soft, worn down, much deeper than in Danny’s hazy memories. Memories that have only been getting sharper the more time he’s spent with this grown up Steve. He moves closer, drifting in Steve’s direction like the proverbial moth to Steve’s flame, and Steve only seems to burn brighter the closer Danny gets.
“Guys? She’s coming.”
Danny blinks at Chin’s voice, out of place in this world he’s created for just him and Steve, and while he’s beginning to love Kono like another sister, he finds himself wishing that he could just take Steve by the arm and run away and revisit some of those memories.
“Be right there, Chin.”
Danny still hasn’t managed to find his voice, so he just nods after Steve speaks and then steps to one side when he pushes away from the computer table to go and join Chin. Danny closes his eyes and composes himself before he does the same.
**
Danny runs his fingers over Steve’s jaw before turning back around, his spine complaining now that the moment is passed. Steve kisses over his shoulders as they collapse onto the mattress, his hands smoothing over Danny’s back when he pulls out.
“Okay?”
“Okay, he says, as though he hasn’t just fucked me completely stupid. Yes, okay. Better than okay. Much better.”
There’s a pause and Danny waits for Steve to say something but he’s silent, his hands still moving on Danny’s skin, big and warm, pressing into knots occasionally, making Danny melt even more.
Danny stays where he is when Steve rolls off the pull-out again to dispose of the condom, face smushed into the rumpled bedclothes somewhere near where his pillow should be.
This time, when Steve comes back to the bed, Danny pulls him close, presses his nose into Steve’s chest, and falls asleep with Steve’s arms wound around him.
**
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m pretty beat - ha! - so I’m just going to go home and pass out. But really, mahalo for this. It - means a lot.”
“Like I said - we care for each other like a family now, Kono.”
"Yeah, and that's exactly what makes me appreciate it all the more. I'll see you in a couple days."
Danny nods, catching Steve doing the same out the corner of his eye. He smoothes a hand down the front of his uniform and then over his hair, casting his eyes about the bull pen for a moment before heading into his office to grab his stuff and get out of there himself. He isn't surprised when he hears Steve's heavy footsteps following him.
"You going home too?"
"Yeah. Why, you gonna make me a better offer?"
Danny closes his eyes in reflex as soon as it's out of his mouth, opening them again when Steve doesn't make a sound.
Steve turns to leave and Danny’s hand moves before he even thinks about it, grabbing Steve’s arm and tugging him back around and up against the doorframe. He barely notices the look on Steve’s face as he claws his way up Steve’s front, pulling his head down and slamming his mouth to Steve’s. It’s as messy and violent as their first kiss had been all those years ago, up against Danny’s apartment door.
Danny pants into Steve’s mouth when they pull apart a moment later, eyes closed tight, not wanting to see the look of regret on Steve’s face that he’s sure is there. The look that’ll tell Danny he doesn’t want this, that Danny was wrong to assume that anything that happened in college has any bearing on anything that happens now.
“Danny.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry; it’s just - it’s this fucking uniform. I wasn’t going to - I was going to get over it, and then tonight - and you -”
Danny plucks at Steve’s jacket front with trembling fingers, his mind already imagining tearing it off and stripping Steve of all those layers, getting rid of everything until it’s just the two of them and nothing and no one else.
“Get over what?”
Danny opens his eyes at that, blinking up at Steve, who looks so genuinely clueless that Danny has to laugh.
“Over you, you idiot.”
It’s Steve’s turn to blink and Danny’s pants get even more uncomfortably tight as he watches those ridiculous eyelashes bat against Steve’s cheekbones. Danny watches Steve’s eyes shift back and forth, as though he’s trying to read Danny’s expression before he says whatever he’s going to say next. Danny just hopes he’ll let him down gently.
In the end, Steve doesn’t say anything at all, and neither does Danny, because Steve kisses him instead, deep and intense. Their hands clutch and grab at stiff, unyielding fabric, pulling each other closer. Danny presses Steve harder into the wall, yanking Steve's shirt out of his pants and running his hands up underneath it, flattening over his stomach. Steve's skin is warm, almost hot even, his muscles quivering with each breath that he half-snorts against Danny's cheek.
They're both panting when they separate next, Steve bent forward to lean his forehead against Danny's.
"We should stop."
Danny's stomach and heart drop to his shoes then lurch back up again. This is it. This is the rejection he's been waiting for and dreading. He nods, taking a step back, keeping his eyes on Steve's shiny dress shoes.
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, I'll just..."
Danny waves his hand, wanting to get away and lose his dinner into the toilet or nearest trash can.
"No, I mean - stop and go somewhere else. Home. Danny - I want this, just - not in the office."
Danny thinks he's given himself whiplash when he snaps his head back up, staring in disbelief at Steve. His head is certainly spinning.
"Don't jerk me around, Steve."
"I'm not. Let's go, yeah?"
Steve's hand comes up to touch the side of his face gently and Danny can only nod and follow Steve out.
**
Danny knows it's creepy, watching someone sleep like this, but he's filled with this urge to commit Steve to memory, to file him away so completely that he'll always be there for Danny to bring up whenever he wants or needs to. He lets his eyes trace the line of Steve's jaw, resisting the temptation to follow with his fingers and risk waking Steve up.
He wonders what Steve will look like in ten years' time. In fifteen. He wonders if Steve will go gray or bald first. He wonders if some day he'll watch the news and hear Steve's name read out as a casualty in some foreign country. He wonders if they'll ever see each other again.
**
There's a moment on the drive home, when they pull up to a stop light, where Danny looks over at Steve and has such a strong flashback to their first night together; directing Steve back to Danny's apartment, the sofa bed creaking all night underneath them, watching Steve button himself back up behind his uniform and walk away in the morning. He doesn't say anything when Steve automatically makes the turn to take them to the McGarrett house this time.
Danny takes a few deep breaths as surreptitiously as he can when Steve pulls onto his driveway, hoping it's hidden by the crunching gravel. He gets out without looking at Steve, pushing his shaking hands into his pockets as he walks up the path to the porch, feeling Steve loom behind him as he reaches around Danny to unlock the door. Steve's breath hits his ear a second before his hand lands on Danny's opposite hip, guiding him inside and against the wall again. It's gentler this time, Steve's body pressing up against him slowly, their noses rubbing for a second before Steve's lips meet his own, covering and consuming him.
Danny wraps his arms around Steve, grounding himself in the strength he can feel in the solidness of Steve's muscles; he's filled out so much since college, the lanky quarterback is long gone. He groans into Steve's mouth when he gets two hands on Steve's ass, Steve's own hands tugging on Danny's hair in response.
"Danny."
Steve breathing his name like that has Danny's dick straining against the zip of his pants. He pushes Steve back and nods towards the stairs.
"Come on. Up."
Steve nods back, looking wrecked already, as though he's finally letting go of some of the tension he's been carrying since he got back to Hawaii, since they found each other again. They stumble towards the stairs still locked together, fingers working at shiny brass buttons, pushing jackets away and undoing starched shirts.
Danny pulls back to look Steve over when they make it to the bedroom; his shirt undone to his waist, tie open and hanging over his exposed chest, his jacket hanging off one shoulder, and a substantial bulge in his pants that Danny can suddenly remember vividly how it tastes.
He drops to his knees, wincing belatedly when they twinge, but he's so focused on getting Steve's pants open that he barely notices, especially once he gets Steve's cock out. He runs his hand over it once before leaning in and taking it deep into his mouth in one go, listening to Steve cry out as he sucks and licks his way around.
It's so much better than his memories, not least because his own technique has improved - he hopes. Steve fills his mouth and throat like he was made to measure, tasting salty and male, his scent deep and musky and faintly of seawater when Danny takes him deep enough to bury his nose in Steve's pubic hair. Danny hasn't felt this hungry for someone in a long time.
"Shit, Danny, wait, stop."
Danny looks up but doesn't stop completely, keeping the tip of Steve's cock in his mouth and letting his tongue play over it.
"Jesus, you're killing me."
Danny watches as Steve runs a hand over his face, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eye socket. The dark of his stubble puts his cheekbones into stark relief in the dim light of the room; Danny's stomach twists again at what a handsome man Steve's turned into.
"Let's get to bed, yeah? Then I promise you can do whatever you want to me, Danny."
Danny's dick jerks at the thought. He lets Steve slip out from between his lips and accepts the hand Steve holds out to him, letting himself be pulled up and into another kiss.
They work together to get rid of their clothes at last, letting hands and mouths wander over each new bit of exposed skin when the urge takes them, learning their way around these new versions of each other.
Danny ends up on his back on the bed, hands sunk into Steve's hair as Steve bites and sucks over his chest and collar bones and stomach, arching clear of the mattress when Steve lingers on his hipbone, teeth worrying the thin skin there into what he's sure will be a livid purple mark by tomorrow. It feels good to be claimed so passionately by someone again, to feel wanted and needed in such a way that it’s almost desperate.
Steve’s mouth wraps itself around Danny’s cock, enveloping it in perfect wet heat that has Danny choking on his own breath, his fingers clenching tightly around Steve’s short hair, taking a clump out at the roots as he rips one hand away to throw an arm over his own face. He bites into the muscle of his forearm when Steve takes him in even deeper, swallowing around him, sending vibrations through Danny’s already strung out body when he groans. His bottom lip catches the skin of Danny’s balls, stubble on his chin scraping and rasping over it with each bob of Steve’s head.
“Oh, Jesus, Steve. Fuck, that feels so good.”
Danny’s voice sounds broken even to his own ears, the words cracking in his dry mouth. He swallows down gulps of air when Steve pauses, pulling back to just lick at the head, giving Danny the dirtiest French kiss he’s ever had. His hands run up and down Danny’s thighs, restless, one coming to grip Danny’s shaft and stroke him firmly as he kisses just under Danny’s belly button, pressing his face into it as though he needs a minute himself.
“Steve. Steve, c’mere.”
Danny tugs him up again, his hands trembling a little when he releases Steve’s hair to pull on his arms, bringing their faces level and looking up into Steve’s eyes. He runs a thumb over Steve’s bottom lip, its fullness making something in his gut clench at the knowledge that he’s the cause, that Steve looks this wrecked because of him, that they’re getting this second chance. He wants Steve to fuck him, he wants to fuck Steve, he wants to come in Steve’s mouth and over his hand and over those stupid over-developed muscles and he wants to do it over and over again until they’re old enough to need medical help in getting there. He wants it all and he wants Steve and he doesn’t want to lose him again.
He’s also pretty sure that Steve can see it written all over his face, plain as day, but the tiny hopeful part of Danny thinks that maybe he can see some of it in Steve’s eyes; the light that isn’t just a reflection of himself.
Steve’s hand is still moving on his dick, and Danny has to close his eyes, head tipped back and forced into the pillow, when Steve rubs his thumb into the slit, making Danny’s breath catch in his chest. He can feel Steve’s own panted breaths on the side of his face, hot and damp like the Hawaiian night outside, can feel it hitch along with his own when Steve shifts and grinds his own erection into Danny’s thigh, sliding it up to rock into the groove of his hip, thrusting down in time with the movements of his hand.
Steve’s still watching him when Danny blinks his eyes open, studying him and his reactions, the same way he’d done all the first time, making sure that what he’s doing is feeling good for Danny. When Danny closes his eyes again, he can almost hear that creaky sofa bed as they rock together, instead of the pounding of the ocean and the steady, rapid thump of his heart. He arches up into Steve’s touches, pushing off the bed and wrapping his good leg around Steve’s, pulling him in closer, eliminating all distance between them.
Steve kisses him again, hungry, teeth clashing and biting at his bottom lip, and Danny runs his hand down Steve’s back, grabbing his ass for a moment before slipping it between them and taking Steve’s cock in his grasp. Steve makes a low keening noise into the side of Danny’s neck, his own hand stilling for a second before he gathers himself together and keeps stripping Danny’s cock, getting faster, matching Danny’s relentless pace on Steve, racing each other to the finish.
“Shit, Steve. Oh, yeah, like - like that. So good. So good.”
“Danny. Danny.”
Steve’s still saying Danny’s name as though he can’t believe this is happening, and Danny can’t really blame him. He keeps having this fleeting thought that any moment now he’s going to wake up and it’ll be 1998 again and he’ll be back in New Jersey dreaming about the hot Navy cadet he fucked the previous weekend.
Steve bites down on Danny’s collar bone when he comes, spilling hot and wet and copiously over Danny’s stomach and hand, his forehead pressing hard enough to almost be painful into Danny’s shoulder when his arm gives out underneath him. Danny pushes up into Steve’s hand a few more times until the feeling of Steve’s content sigh against his skin sends him into oblivion. Sensation ripples through him in waves, making him shiver despite the heat of Steve’s body covering him, and every muscle in his body relaxes simultaneously as Steve strokes him through the last of it, hand moving lazily now, touch gentle on oversensitive skin.
Danny turns his head enough to lean his temple against Steve’s, keeping his eyes closed, breathing in the scent of them together, of Steve’s hair product next to his nose, tasting Steve’s sweat when he licks his lips and tries to get his breath back. He smiles when Steve lifts his head and questing lips brush over his cheek before they reach his mouth. The resulting kiss is lazy, satiated, Steve’s hand moving up over Danny’s body, rubbing their come into his skin, before his fingers push into Danny’s mouth. Danny takes them, sucking each one clean in turn, and then kisses Steve again as he slides off to lie at his side.
“Thank you.”
**
Danny listens for the sound of Steve's car starting up before he goes back to bed, flopping down into the dirty sheets, wrapping himself in Steve's smell for a while longer, his dick twitching feebly in his boxers in response.
"Get over it, Williams."
His voice sounds loud in the empty apartment. He looks over at the desk again, at the note Steve had left lying in the center, and sighs. He gets up again, taking the note in his hand, ready to crumple it up and throw it in the trash, but he pauses as he looks down at it, the precise lettering making him smile at the Navy educated man who's written it. He breathes out heavily once more and grabs a tack from the notice board above his desk.
"Hawaii, huh? Yeah, well, we'll see about that."
**
Danny turns his head towards Steve, who still has one hand resting on Danny's stomach, his fingers moving every now and then, making little whorls in the hair there.
"Is this where we tell each other we never forgot and that we dreamt of this moment?"
Steve snorts into his pillow, running his hand over Danny's skin with more purpose now. Danny watches him rub his face in the pillow before he shifts to face Danny, still touching his stomach and chest.
"Well, I would be lying if I said I hadn't had a few wet dreams about that night over the years."
"Oh, yeah?"
Steve nods and pulls Danny closer, kissing him. Danny tastes himself on Steve's tongue and wishes, not for the first time tonight, that they were twenty-one again.
"Mm-hmm."
Danny smiles, sliding one of his thighs between Steve's, slick with sweat, hair rubbing against hair, so different from the last time he lay in bed with a partner like this after sex. Steve leans closer, his arm moving to grab Danny's waist more firmly now and pull him into Steve's body. It's hot enough in the room that it should be stifling but Danny just goes with it, kissing Steve again.
“I was in New York once, on a layover. I had eighteen hours between connections, I thought about you then. Wondered if you were still over the bay in Jersey, or what would happen if I tried to look you up.”
“Would’ve been a nice way to spend eighteen hours.”
Steve hums in agreement, their lips barely separating enough to speak. Danny feels the stresses of the day and the case slowly dissipating as Steve’s giant hand strokes up and down his spine.
“We could always take tomorrow off and spend the next eighteen hours making up for lost time.”
“I hate to break it to you, Steve, but neither of us are twenty-one anymore. I need to spend at least half of those hours sleeping.”
Danny pulls back a little way to look at Steve properly, seeing him open his mouth as if to protest only to be caught out by a yawn.
“Yeah, my point exactly.”
Steve rolls away onto his back and stretches his arms over his head, giving Danny a most pleasing view of his abdominal muscles shifting under his skin. Again, his gut twangs with want that he can’t act on. It’s simply not fair.
“You wanna clean up now or in the morning?”
“In the morning. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be waking you up in a few hours’ time for round two.”
Steve turns his head back to face Danny and smirks, leaving his arms up over his head as he closes his eyes and breathes out deeply. Danny reaches down and tugs the rumpled sheet up over the both of them, folding one arm under the pillow as he settles down, still watching the side of Steve’s face.
His eyes are already drooping when he hears Steve mutter something.
“Hmm?”
“I said, I’m glad you took my advice.”
“What advice? Shoot first, ask later?”
“No, about coming to Hawaii. I told you it was nice.”
Danny smiles despite himself, reaching over and resting his hand on Steve’s chest, feeling the slow beat of his heart against his palm.
“Yeah, well. Parts of it ain’t too bad, I suppose.”
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Rating: 18+
Disclaimer: This is fiction, which means it's not true. I just have a healthy imagination. No offence or copyright infringment intended.
A/N: Sooo, for all those people who wanted it, this is the long-awaited sequel to I would not just leave you without a kiss. It has taken me many months to get this finished, I tell you. Beta'd by the lovely iam_space, any remaining errors are down to me and my Britishness! Big love also to theellibu, delicatale, gunslingaaahhh and finduilas_clln for the handholding and cheerleading along the way!! Thank you, ladies! <3
Title from Narc by Interpol.
---
Hawaii, 2010
This, Danny thinks, this is the very definition of the short straw, and after almost six months of being the new guy here, he’s seen more than his fair share of short straws. Not that he’s surprised, obviously; he remembers what happened to the guys who transferred into his precinct back in Jersey, and some of them were only coming from over the Hudson. If he thought Newark was close-knit, then HPD is members-only, platinum Diners’ Card territory.
So, anyway, of course it falls to him to look into this case. The ex-cop shot in his own study by a crazed terrorist, over some grudge against the guy’s son. Of course it’s Danny’s job to come and check over the crime scene, because he’s the only one chasing any leads. Well, okay, maybe that’s not fair on Meka, because he’s been trawling through the same case files as Danny, but he’s the one who gets granted a week’s leave even though Danny’s had his request in longer. Fucking office politics.
Which is why Danny’s extra pissed when he walks onto the McGarrett property and finds the crime scene tape tampered with and the front door of the house wide open, not to mention the fact that his feet are soaked and his shoes are ruined from the puddle he stepped into when he got out of his car.
“For the love of...”
Danny sighs, gun already in hand as he makes his way through the house, alert for anyone or anything that might be on the premises. There’s a rattling sound in the garage that draws his attention and the faint sound of a male voice.
“Great.”
He quickens his pace, raising his gun as he steps through the connecting door to the garage and sees the back of a dark-haired head. He’s already shouting as he rounds the covered over car, watching the guy spin around and raise his own gun, training it quickly on Danny.
“You! Hands up! Don’t move!”
“Who are you?”
“Who are you? I am Detective Danny Williams, an-”
Danny only catches the guy’s surname as they talk over each other, guns still drawn, getting into a childish discussion about how to show each other their ID; he’s obviously a relative of the victim, but seriously, where does he get off coming in and contaminating Danny’s crime scene?
Danny’s way beyond pissed now, and it only gets worse as he listens to the guy - who, okay, might’ve piqued Danny’s interest had they met under other circumstances; it’s not like he’s been beaten with the ugly stick - call the fucking Governor and, what, get himself sworn in? Is that even legally binding, doing it over the phone?
“Now it’s my crime scene.”
Danny grits his teeth and curses in every language he knows.
**
He doesn’t bother going back to the station, fresh socks and dry shoes are more pressing given that by now he’s sure that Commander McGarrett has already been to see his Captain and yank all his case files. It starts raining again just as the door to his shitty little apartment closes behind him, so he’s thankful for small mercies, at least.
He thinks about calling his Ma for a moment and asking if he was really such a bad kid that he deserves this kind of karma at this stage of his life, but in the end he settles for flopping onto his unmade fold-out bed and gazing up at the ceiling.
“Why?”
As usual, there’s no answer from the ceiling, or God, or whoever he was asking. He changes his shoes and socks, and is considering just how wet he’d get if he made a run for his car to go get some lunch when there’s a fist pounding on his door. It’s only the fact that he’s been thinking about his mother and karma that he opens it as quickly as he does, especially when he sees who’s standing there.
“I swung by your precinct -”
No ‘hello’, no ‘how do you do?’ nothing. Danny’s lack of surprise is only matched by the rising anger in the pit of his stomach.
“- spoke to your captain who said you requested a wire report on someone named Fred Doran. Tell me about him.”
Danny barely has time to step to the side before he’s being barged past, catching a face full of spray as McGarrett’s wet shoulder passes by his face. There’s something that niggles Danny about this guy, besides the arrogance, but right now he’s too cranky to think straight and work out what it is. The guy just stole his case from right under his nose and now he’s pushing his way into Danny’s home - which, okay, is pretty crappy, but it’s his own personal space, and he grew up in a household where that was a very precious commodity, alright? Even that thought in relation to McGarrett makes his brow crinkle with something he can’t put a name to. Huh.
“Come in.”
Danny closes the door, turning to watch McGarrett as he looks around, prodding and poking as if Danny’s home is some kind of exhibit; the modern divorcé in his natural habitat. Danny’s scowl deepens when McGarrett points at his picture of Grace.
“This your kid?”
“Yeah, that’s stunning detective work.”
McGarrett smirks, looking around and gesturing to the rest of Danny’s apartment. Danny bristles, his fight or flight reactions pointing firmly towards fight.
“You don’t actually let her stay here with you, do you? This place is -”
“Yeah, it’s a crap-hole, I get it. You think I don’t know that? I have to live here. Not all of us can afford those nice beach-front duplexes you grew up in.”
“Yeah, but, here? You’re seriously telling me you couldn’t afford better than this?”
"Hey, this place is a palace compared to the other places the realtor showed me. My budget is somewhat limited since my ex-wife fucked me in the ass. Alimony? Moving to the middle of the freaking Pacific? On a cop's salary? Forgive me for reliving my college days when it comes to my living arrangements.”
Danny’s mouth goes dry at the same time his palms start sweating. This is weird.
“Uh.”
They fix wide eyes on each other in the same moment, the file in McGarrett’s - Steve’s - hand slipping onto the floor with an explosion of paper. That’s it. Holy shit. McGarrett. Steve McGarrett. Holy shit!
“Shit.”
“Let me -”
“I got it.”
Danny moves away as quickly as he’d bent to help, trying to force the mental images of a naked Steve back out of his brain. A naked, twenty-one year old Steve, with a bruise under his eye, kneeling between Danny’s spread legs as he rolls a condom on. From the way Steve’s face just closed down, Danny’s pretty sure there's been a pretty massive collective penny dropping here.
Steve gets the papers back into the file, but doesn’t look at Danny when he stands up.
"I should. I mean, we should. Let's go."
"We? What? Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute here. Just because we - did something in college, there's no 'we'."
Steve looks at him finally, although his gaze skitters over Danny's face, only meeting his eyes for the shortest time necessary.
"The Governor has asked me to set up a taskforce, and I'm making you my partner. That's what I came to tell you."
"You can't do that."
"Too late, I already have. I've got jurisdiction. We're, uh, gonna get along great."
Steve gives him a forced smile and heads back out into the rain.
Well, fuck.
**
Danny's only been fortunate enough to wake up with his dick in someone's mouth a couple of times in his life, so the joy he feels at being jolted out of a fairly filthy dream to find it coming true is unconfined.
"Oh, God."
The mouth on his dick smiles, he can feel the curve of lips, but doesn't stop what it's doing. Danny arches his back, reaching down under the sheets with one hand to grab the back of the head controlling the amazing mouth, the other scratching his chest, fingertips flicking a nipple when he comes across it.
"Yeah. Yeah, fuck, that's good. Should get a medal, just for this. You get - medals in the Navy, right? Give you one myself."
There's a choking sound from under the sheet that might be laughter but Danny doesn't care. He's still half asleep and he knows he's talking bullshit and there's a mouth and a tongue doing awesome things to his cock - oh, and now his balls too. Oh, yeah.
Danny groans, loud and long, when Steve's fingers start probing between his legs, opening him up and sliding into Danny's ass. When Steve's tongue slips into his ass as well Danny thinks he might just lose his mind before the night is over.
**
Danny tries really hard to concentrate on driving and not on the memories that keep wanting to surface. He feels stupid for not recognizing Steve's name or even the picture in his dad's file. He'd dreamt about Steve for weeks after that night, but then, inevitably, there'd been someone else, a girl or a boy, and Danny's fantasies had moved on with him. And then, of course, had come Rachel.
Danny sighs and twists his hands on the wheel, foot pressing harder on the accelerator. The quicker they get to their suspect, the quicker he can go home and forget about this day. If he’s lucky, when he wakes up in the morning, it’ll all have been a dream and he won’t be partnered up with one of his college one-night-stands.
**
He’s not that lucky. In fact, he’s pretty sure he’s never been this unlucky. He’s been shot at, bitten, and almost knocked out. The only slight consolation is that he finally got to land a punch on McGarrett’s smug face, not to mention the fact that they’ve picked up a couple of extra team members, so at least Danny’s going to have some kind of buffer between him and Steve. A buffer he’s sorely in need of as he stands on the beach behind the McGarrett house, trying not to watch Steve change his shirt.
He looks out across the water instead, watching the surf roll in slowly, the sun setting over the horizon. It’s yet another picture postcard evening in paradise. It’d make him sick, except he keeps getting glimpses of Steve’s skin next to him and there are tattoos where there weren’t before, and he’s put on about fifty pounds of muscle, and he just looks so fucking good. Yeah, Danny’s shit out of luck.
“So, is this gonna be difficult?”
“What?”
“Working together. After, you know, what happened.”
Danny turns now, facing Steve properly as he gets his arms into his fresh shirt, held out away from his body as he talks. Danny wishes he’d just hurry up and put the damn thing on.
“Why, is it going to be difficult for you?”
Danny knows he’s being evasive but what is he going to say? ‘Yes, actually, it’s going to be extremely trying to work alongside you when I can close my eyes and picture you naked and sweaty and fucking me very enthusiastically. Thanks for bringing it up.’
Steve shrugs, finally pulling the t-shirt over his head and Danny lets out what’s probably a very badly disguised shaky breath.
“I don’t know yet. We’re different people now, right?”
“I guess so.”
Steve nods, apparently satisfied with that. Danny’s glad one of them is.
**
Danny moans another curse, threading his fingers through Steve’s hair and combing through it, over and over, letting its softness tickle his palm as the scratch of Steve’s stubble burns the inside of his thighs.
He swallows hard when Steve hums, the vibrations muted but still a sensation he wasn’t expecting. His hand slips from the back of Steve’s head to his dick, still wet from Steve’s mouth and harder than ever. He closes his fist around it tightly, knuckles brushing Steve’s forehead as he moves, dragging his tongue up over Danny’s balls and then over his fingers, taking the head of Danny’s cock into his mouth even as Danny keeps stroking himself.
“Oh, shit. That feels so fucking good.”
Danny slides his fingers into Steve’s mouth on the upstroke, his stomach clenching when Steve licks around them as he circles the crown, then releases them with a wet noise and Danny pushes his hips up to move his dick through his grip and deeper into Steve’s mouth. Steve’s fingers are still moving in and out of his ass, and Danny knows he’s gonna be sore in the morning, but fuck it. Tomorrow’s Sunday, he doesn’t have anywhere to be, and right now he’s certainly going nowhere.
“Steve. Steve, fuck me.”
**
They stay drinking on Steve’s beach long after the sun has disappeared into the ocean, long after Chin’s phone call about tomorrow’s mission. Danny knows he should’ve left hours ago, that this reconnection or whatever it is should’ve waited until they’ve wrapped up this case, until Steve’s had time to grieve, until they’ve both had time to get their heads around this. He doesn’t though. He stays and the sun sets and the beer supply eventually dwindles to the point where it’s time for hard liquor or a run to the store.
“I should - I should go.”
Danny has to clear his throat halfway through the sentence to get his voice to work properly.
“You could stay.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s such a great idea, do you? You shouldn’t even be staying here; this place is still a crime scene.”
Danny winces as soon as the words are out and looks away over the darkened water instead of at Steve. He rubs the back of his neck, grains of sand stuck to his skin and itching under his shirt collar. Stuff gets everywhere.
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“There are like a thousand hotels on this island alone, McGarrett. Pick one and go there. You and I both need a few hours of decent sleep before tomorrow; are you really telling me you’ll be able to get that here?”
Danny turns to face Steve again, watching him shrug where he sits, sprawled in a deck chair. The label from his latest beer lies in shreds on his thighs.
“Why do you care?”
“Oh, well, you see, someone decided he was going to make me his partner, and told me we had to get along, so you know, I figure that means making sure he gets some sleep and is therefore alert enough not to get us killed the following day.”
“’Therefore’?”
“Fuck you; I went to college.”
This gets a smile out of Steve that Danny wishes wouldn’t make his stomach clench like that. Really. Not convenient at all.
“I know.”
Danny can't help but smile back, and now he really, really needs to go. He slaps both hands on his thighs before he gets up, hard enough to leave them stinging as he gets to his feet. He can feel his knees creaking like the old man he's turning into and the bullet graze on his arm is throbbing a little. He needs to change the dressing and take some painkillers as soon as he gets home, otherwise he's going to sack out on the couch and wake up with an infection and wouldn't that be 'just grand', as Rachel used to say.
"So, uh, call me. In the morning. I'll give you a ride."
Steve nods, standing as well. He looks tired beyond anything Danny could withstand. Guess that's the SEAL training, he thinks. Danny looks around as they walk back through the house, pausing at the front door to say goodnight.
"Don't stay here tonight, McGarrett. I mean it."
"Go back to your rat hole, Danny. I'll call you in the morning."
**
Danny pushes the sheets down and away, looking down as Steve lifts his eyes. He can only barely see in the dimness; there are only the street lights outside casting any light in the apartment. If Steve is in any way startled by Danny’s panted demand then Danny will never know, and as Steve is now moving back up his body, kissing along his heated skin as he goes, Danny guesses that Steve is more than on board.
“You always talk this much during sex?”
“Hey, I’m Jersey born and raised, buddy. This is what you get.”
Steve smirks, his eyes catching enough light to glitter with what could, in a very different situation, be described as menace. Right now it only serves to make Danny’s cock jump against his stomach, his heart rate increasing as Steve looms over him before he leans in and presses a sound kiss to Danny’s mouth. Danny can taste himself on Steve’s tongue as it slides against his own, then curls up to lick at his soft palate, tickling along his gums. Danny lets Steve settle on top of him again, bodies pressed tight together, sweaty and sticky, and fumbles around next to them for the condoms.
**
If there’s something Danny’s had enough of lately, it’s unpacking. Not that he had much to unpack when he arrived in Hawaii, but the intense dislike is still there. Setting up his new office at the Task Force headquarters is no different. There are boxes and people and equipment everywhere, not to mention the fact that he’s pretty much dead on his feet after the day they’ve had. If he never sees another Chinese freighter it’ll be too soon. Not to mention McGarrett and his somewhat reckless tendencies. He’s finding it hard to match up the Steve from his memories, who had been funny and charming and, well, sane, with this hard-faced new version.
“Hey.”
Danny looks up from his desk at the sound of Steve’s voice, taking in the sling and the bruises mottling his skin with greens and purples, the cut on his lower lip. He looks like hell, but that doesn’t appear to have stopped Danny’s heart from beating a little faster. Steve advances toward the desk, sliding an envelope across the surface and then turning to leave immediately.
“What, uh, what is this?”
Danny picks it up, waving it in Steve’s direction when he stops in the doorway and comes back to stand on the other side of the desk. Danny can feel his eyebrows lift as he waits for Steve to answer.
“Three nights at the Kahala hotel. Look, I know you’re gonna say no -”
“Yeah, you’re right I’m gonna say no. What is it with you and my living arrangements?”
Danny needs to have words with his brain about engaging with his mouth before letting stuff come out of it. His heartbeat stutters for a moment, watching Steve, his eyes flickering briefly with something before he shuts it down, hiding behind that stupid stoic expression - another thing that doesn’t match up to Danny’s memories.
“Look, Grace’s coming over this weekend, right?”
"Yeah -"
Steve doesn't let him protest, just barrels on talking about the pool and swimming with dolphins, all the while looking so fucking earnest despite being battered and bruised. When did he even have the time to go and buy this? On his way back from the hospital? Did he already have them before today? Danny can only nod, a little dumb, his fingers still twirling the envelope around.
"I - thanks. Thank you."
Steve smiles, softer than the smug grin Danny was expecting and making his stomach contract painfully.
"You're welcome."
Steve's halfway out of the door when Danny finds his voice, clearing his throat lightly before he speaks.
"And what about you?"
"What about me?"
Danny sighs. The man is willfully obtuse when he wants to be.
"Where are you staying this weekend? Please don't tell me you're going back there."
"It's my home, Danny."
“It’s a crime scene, Steven.”
“Oh, really? Thanks for the reminder. That must be, what, the fifth time you’ve said that to me in the past two days?”
Steve’s face is hard all of a sudden, his jaw clenched tightly under bruised skin. Danny rounds the desk, dropping the envelope on it as he goes. He pushes the door closed and tugs Steve inside in one motion, leaving his hand on Steve’s arm. He can smell the lingering scent of antiseptic from the hospital on Steve’s clothes now that he’s this close to him.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Why don’t you come over to my place for tonight? I’m not getting Gracie until the morning. We can send a cleaning crew over to your house tonight and I’ll drop you off on my way to Rachel’s.”
“Your place?”
“It’s not a palace, and it doesn’t have its own beach, or even a front porch, but it’s got a TV and beer and, uh, and me.”
Danny’s stomach absolutely doesn’t twist inside him as he says that, looking up into Steve’s face. His eyes are pretty unreadable right now and Danny isn’t sure he hasn’t crossed some line here, but if he and Steve are going to work together - as partners no less - then they’re going to have to get through this awkward getting to know you stage pretty damn fast.
“That wasn’t - I wasn’t propositioning you.”
Steve laughs and Danny’s head is filled with memories again, of low conversations in the dark, whispers and murmurs that lead to yet another round of sex. Danny’s always wondered how Steve had ever managed to drive back to Annapolis after that little sleep. Maybe now he’ll get the chance to ask.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll come to your place.”
Danny nods, feeling a smile fix itself on his face that hasn’t been there for a while. He ushers Steve out into the bullpen, gesturing around at all the boxes and packing tape as they walk over to join Chin and Kono.
“So, you just requisitioned all this? I assume you filled out all the correct forms. Or did the Governor give you leave to disregard those as well?”
“Oh, I’m sure you can handle a few forms, right, Danno?”
“I will break your other arm, McGarrett.”
**
They keep kissing while Steve’s hands work between them to get the condom on his dick, the rubber catching the hair between Danny’s thighs when he rocks up to chase Steve’s body as he moves away. Danny watches him toss the condom wrapper off the side of the bed and dribble some more lube on his fingers. He looks like every fantasy Danny ever had; he’s pretty sure that before tonight guys like Steve only existed in porn flicks.
“Turn over this time.”
Danny rolls over onto his front at Steve’s gentle nudge of encouragement, propped up on his hands and looking back through his legs as Steve slides his fingers back inside him, cool lube dripping over Danny’s balls and onto the sheets. He shivers as Steve runs his tongue up the length of his spine, his teeth catching Danny’s earlobe before he sucks it into his mouth, making Danny shiver.
"Oh, God."
He can't stop his back from arching as Steve's fingers rake over his prostate again and again, biting his lip to keep from moaning too loudly. Steve keeps pressing kisses over his shoulders and neck, his free hand stroking up and down Danny's thigh, until every inch of Danny's skin feels electrified.
"Steve. Steve, please. You gotta fuck me. Come on, come on, fuck me. Please."
Danny's breathless with want, sweat running down his face and into his eyes, burning. He tries to lift a hand to reach back for Steve but he can't manage to hold his weight on the other, so he just spreads his legs wider and pushes back onto Steve's fingers, forcing them in deeper, rutting back and forth.
"Jesus Christ, Danny. You know what you look like right now?"
"Don't - give a shit, Steve."
**
It’s pretty late by the time Danny lets himself into his apartment, a tired Steve looming behind him and listing slightly to the right. Danny steers him towards the couch and goes to fix them both a drink. His hand hovers over the coffee maker for a moment before he decides ‘fuck it’ and grabs a couple of beers from the fridge instead. He’s got a bottle of single malt they can crack into later - if Steve doesn’t pass out before then.
“Hey, McGarrett.”
“Hmm?”
Danny holds one of the beers out to him before falling down onto the couch himself. He winds up far closer to Steve than he meant to be, his thigh pressed against Steve’s, their elbows knocking as they raise their bottles to their lips at the same time. Neither of them seems to have any inclination to move away though. He settles back into the lumpy cushions, digging the remote out from under his ass and thumbing the TV on. It’s late enough that there’s only infomercials on but he needs the background noise to cover the pounding of his heart.
Steve leans back next to him, eyes half closed when Danny turns to look at him, and he can’t help but compare this profile with the one he remembers lying next to him, panting breathlessly in the dull light of the small hours. There are more lines around his eyes, now, and the line of his jaw is stronger, sharper, even if his lips look as inviting as they did back then. Danny licks his own at the memory and looks away again to stare down into his beer. He’s got to get a grip on himself, ignore all these memories. It was one, meaningless night, a long time ago; it’s not worth jeopardizing what could be an amazing new job over.
He repeats his new mantra silently to himself for a while and it feels like it’s working until Steve leans across him to steal the remote, and Danny gets a deep breath of just how good Steve smells and fuck his life, Steve’s still using the same aftershave.
“You could’ve just asked.”
Danny’s mouth is dry and the words come out a little throatier than he’d like but Steve just shrugs at him and starts flicking channels.
“You really have the attention span of an eight-year-old, don’t you? I hope they never put you in a submarine. Did they? I saw that look, what does that look mean? Oh, I bet it’s classified, isn’t it?”
Danny turns more towards Steve, watching his face openly now, the way his gaze narrows before he shrugs, his focus still on the channels he’s flicking through. Danny panics for a second that he’ll find some really bad porn movie or something, which would just be the world’s lamest come on, even considering neither of them have seen sober for a few hours now. Also, Danny’s treacherous brain suggests, considering that Danny is pretty much a sure thing if Steve were to just ask. Hell, he probably only needs to incline his head a certain way and Danny would be on his knees for him.
“You know what? Never mind. I don’t need to know. Just - just pick a channel and stay there, would you? You’re making me dizzy.”
Steve stops, making a big production out of putting the remote down on the packing box that serves as a coffee table and crossing his arms afterwards. Danny wishes he wouldn’t because now his biceps are bulging out from under his shirt sleeves - he’d lost the sling he was wearing earlier sometime around their third beer back at HQ - and Danny has a hard time tearing his eyes away. He forces himself to watch the TV instead where someone is trying to sell them a halogen oven.
“Happy now?"
"Ecstatic."
They lapse back into silence, glancing at each other every now and then. Danny's throat goes dry whenever he catches Steve looking at him, his stomach twisting tighter in itself.
**
Steve smiles into his skin, grabbing Danny's hip and stopping him from moving as he slides his fingers back out again, and finally Danny feels Steve's cockhead pushing against his hole, pausing there for a second before he's filling him up, slow and steady.
"Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes."
Danny repeats it under his breath as Steve bottoms out, his balls resting against Danny's, his front plastered to Danny's back. Everything feels sticky and wet; slick running down the backs of his thighs as Steve pulls out and pushes back in, starting to move faster as Danny rocks on his hands and knees, settling into a rhythm that is going to make it hard for Danny to sit down tomorrow. Not that he cares.
Steve's left hand stays on his hip, fingers digging in, while the right slides up over Danny's back to grab his shoulder, pulling him back until his only choice is to go with it, letting Steve take his weight with him as he leans back.
"Oh, fuck!"
Danny can't hold back his shout this time as he ends up straddling Steve's lap, Steve's dick so deeply inside him that every tiny movement seems amplified, the smallest circle of Steve's hips making his cock jerk against his belly where it's standing almost straight up. Danny all but whimpers as he gets a hand to it at last, clinging onto Steve's forearm with the other. He jerks himself off while Steve sucks on his neck, mumbling and grunting into Danny's ear between labored breaths.
**
Danny wakes the next morning with the sour taste of a hangover in his mouth and an empty bed. He coughs and grimaces at the noise before listening out to try and hear if Steve is somewhere in the apartment, but there's no sound beyond his own breathing. He can't say he's surprised but he might just be a little disappointed. They'd pulled the bed out a few hours and a few more beers after getting home, conversation limited to discussions of how ridiculous the items being demonstrated on TV in front of them, the elephant in the room roundly ignored.
Danny hauls himself upright and staggers to the bathroom, pissing and brushing his teeth on autopilot before tugging off his clothes and clambering into the shower. He offers a silent prayer to the water pressure gods and mutters a hallelujah when the stream that runs over his head is blissfully strong.
He washes up slowly, his arm stinging as the soap runs over his stitches, reminding him of the day before. He can't believe what he's been through in the past 48 hours, since McGarrett came back into his life. Now that he's more awake, he remembers waking briefly in the night, long enough to hear the sounds of someone throwing up in his bathroom, followed by the front door closing behind Steve as he'd left. Danny had simply passed out again once the darkness had settled once more.
He wonders if he should go over to Steve's later, take him - what? A casserole? He really is turning into his mother if that is the first thing that comes to his mind. The thought of taking beer or anything alcoholic right now is just making his stomach turn, however.
This task force of theirs, it's going to be interesting.
**
Danny opens his mouth to warn Steve that he's about to come, but all he can manage is a strangled noise that might be Steve's name before he's coming over his hand and the sheets beneath them.
“Fuck, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.”
Steve’s groaned encouragement stumbles with his stuttered breathing, the words catching somewhere along the way. Danny sags back into Steve’s chest when he can’t give anymore and reaches back, unthinking, with his now dripping hand to grab the back of Steve’s neck, twisting until he can catch Steve’s lips in a kiss. It doesn’t last long, neither of them able to breathe well enough right now, and Steve rests his forehead against Danny’s as he gives one last thrust of his hips and comes, body trembling and panting Danny’s name into his open mouth.
**
Danny dry swallows a few times when he steps out of his office, stopping dead in the bull pen when he sees Steve leaning against the computer table, his eyes closed, apparently deep in thought. Today’s been tough on all of them and Danny really just wants to go home and sleep for the next two days but they all agreed that they wanted to do this for Kono, because she more than deserves this, to be celebrated and congratulated and given the right passage into this crazy career they’ve all made for themselves. Which is why instead of being on his way home to sleep, Danny’s currently standing in the middle of HQ looking at Steve in that uniform that has haunted his dreams for over a decade, consciously or not.
He tugs at his own stiff dress uniform jacket and takes another couple of hesitant steps forward, clearing his throat when Steve’s eyes blink open slowly. He watches as Steve looks him up and down, the dryness in his mouth only getting worse when Steve’s gaze catches his own at last, and all the sparks that flew across a bathroom at a college football stadium are back in full force. Danny almost feels breathless.
“Hey.”
Steve’s voice is soft, worn down, much deeper than in Danny’s hazy memories. Memories that have only been getting sharper the more time he’s spent with this grown up Steve. He moves closer, drifting in Steve’s direction like the proverbial moth to Steve’s flame, and Steve only seems to burn brighter the closer Danny gets.
“Guys? She’s coming.”
Danny blinks at Chin’s voice, out of place in this world he’s created for just him and Steve, and while he’s beginning to love Kono like another sister, he finds himself wishing that he could just take Steve by the arm and run away and revisit some of those memories.
“Be right there, Chin.”
Danny still hasn’t managed to find his voice, so he just nods after Steve speaks and then steps to one side when he pushes away from the computer table to go and join Chin. Danny closes his eyes and composes himself before he does the same.
**
Danny runs his fingers over Steve’s jaw before turning back around, his spine complaining now that the moment is passed. Steve kisses over his shoulders as they collapse onto the mattress, his hands smoothing over Danny’s back when he pulls out.
“Okay?”
“Okay, he says, as though he hasn’t just fucked me completely stupid. Yes, okay. Better than okay. Much better.”
There’s a pause and Danny waits for Steve to say something but he’s silent, his hands still moving on Danny’s skin, big and warm, pressing into knots occasionally, making Danny melt even more.
Danny stays where he is when Steve rolls off the pull-out again to dispose of the condom, face smushed into the rumpled bedclothes somewhere near where his pillow should be.
This time, when Steve comes back to the bed, Danny pulls him close, presses his nose into Steve’s chest, and falls asleep with Steve’s arms wound around him.
**
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m pretty beat - ha! - so I’m just going to go home and pass out. But really, mahalo for this. It - means a lot.”
“Like I said - we care for each other like a family now, Kono.”
"Yeah, and that's exactly what makes me appreciate it all the more. I'll see you in a couple days."
Danny nods, catching Steve doing the same out the corner of his eye. He smoothes a hand down the front of his uniform and then over his hair, casting his eyes about the bull pen for a moment before heading into his office to grab his stuff and get out of there himself. He isn't surprised when he hears Steve's heavy footsteps following him.
"You going home too?"
"Yeah. Why, you gonna make me a better offer?"
Danny closes his eyes in reflex as soon as it's out of his mouth, opening them again when Steve doesn't make a sound.
Steve turns to leave and Danny’s hand moves before he even thinks about it, grabbing Steve’s arm and tugging him back around and up against the doorframe. He barely notices the look on Steve’s face as he claws his way up Steve’s front, pulling his head down and slamming his mouth to Steve’s. It’s as messy and violent as their first kiss had been all those years ago, up against Danny’s apartment door.
Danny pants into Steve’s mouth when they pull apart a moment later, eyes closed tight, not wanting to see the look of regret on Steve’s face that he’s sure is there. The look that’ll tell Danny he doesn’t want this, that Danny was wrong to assume that anything that happened in college has any bearing on anything that happens now.
“Danny.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry; it’s just - it’s this fucking uniform. I wasn’t going to - I was going to get over it, and then tonight - and you -”
Danny plucks at Steve’s jacket front with trembling fingers, his mind already imagining tearing it off and stripping Steve of all those layers, getting rid of everything until it’s just the two of them and nothing and no one else.
“Get over what?”
Danny opens his eyes at that, blinking up at Steve, who looks so genuinely clueless that Danny has to laugh.
“Over you, you idiot.”
It’s Steve’s turn to blink and Danny’s pants get even more uncomfortably tight as he watches those ridiculous eyelashes bat against Steve’s cheekbones. Danny watches Steve’s eyes shift back and forth, as though he’s trying to read Danny’s expression before he says whatever he’s going to say next. Danny just hopes he’ll let him down gently.
In the end, Steve doesn’t say anything at all, and neither does Danny, because Steve kisses him instead, deep and intense. Their hands clutch and grab at stiff, unyielding fabric, pulling each other closer. Danny presses Steve harder into the wall, yanking Steve's shirt out of his pants and running his hands up underneath it, flattening over his stomach. Steve's skin is warm, almost hot even, his muscles quivering with each breath that he half-snorts against Danny's cheek.
They're both panting when they separate next, Steve bent forward to lean his forehead against Danny's.
"We should stop."
Danny's stomach and heart drop to his shoes then lurch back up again. This is it. This is the rejection he's been waiting for and dreading. He nods, taking a step back, keeping his eyes on Steve's shiny dress shoes.
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, I'll just..."
Danny waves his hand, wanting to get away and lose his dinner into the toilet or nearest trash can.
"No, I mean - stop and go somewhere else. Home. Danny - I want this, just - not in the office."
Danny thinks he's given himself whiplash when he snaps his head back up, staring in disbelief at Steve. His head is certainly spinning.
"Don't jerk me around, Steve."
"I'm not. Let's go, yeah?"
Steve's hand comes up to touch the side of his face gently and Danny can only nod and follow Steve out.
**
Danny knows it's creepy, watching someone sleep like this, but he's filled with this urge to commit Steve to memory, to file him away so completely that he'll always be there for Danny to bring up whenever he wants or needs to. He lets his eyes trace the line of Steve's jaw, resisting the temptation to follow with his fingers and risk waking Steve up.
He wonders what Steve will look like in ten years' time. In fifteen. He wonders if Steve will go gray or bald first. He wonders if some day he'll watch the news and hear Steve's name read out as a casualty in some foreign country. He wonders if they'll ever see each other again.
**
There's a moment on the drive home, when they pull up to a stop light, where Danny looks over at Steve and has such a strong flashback to their first night together; directing Steve back to Danny's apartment, the sofa bed creaking all night underneath them, watching Steve button himself back up behind his uniform and walk away in the morning. He doesn't say anything when Steve automatically makes the turn to take them to the McGarrett house this time.
Danny takes a few deep breaths as surreptitiously as he can when Steve pulls onto his driveway, hoping it's hidden by the crunching gravel. He gets out without looking at Steve, pushing his shaking hands into his pockets as he walks up the path to the porch, feeling Steve loom behind him as he reaches around Danny to unlock the door. Steve's breath hits his ear a second before his hand lands on Danny's opposite hip, guiding him inside and against the wall again. It's gentler this time, Steve's body pressing up against him slowly, their noses rubbing for a second before Steve's lips meet his own, covering and consuming him.
Danny wraps his arms around Steve, grounding himself in the strength he can feel in the solidness of Steve's muscles; he's filled out so much since college, the lanky quarterback is long gone. He groans into Steve's mouth when he gets two hands on Steve's ass, Steve's own hands tugging on Danny's hair in response.
"Danny."
Steve breathing his name like that has Danny's dick straining against the zip of his pants. He pushes Steve back and nods towards the stairs.
"Come on. Up."
Steve nods back, looking wrecked already, as though he's finally letting go of some of the tension he's been carrying since he got back to Hawaii, since they found each other again. They stumble towards the stairs still locked together, fingers working at shiny brass buttons, pushing jackets away and undoing starched shirts.
Danny pulls back to look Steve over when they make it to the bedroom; his shirt undone to his waist, tie open and hanging over his exposed chest, his jacket hanging off one shoulder, and a substantial bulge in his pants that Danny can suddenly remember vividly how it tastes.
He drops to his knees, wincing belatedly when they twinge, but he's so focused on getting Steve's pants open that he barely notices, especially once he gets Steve's cock out. He runs his hand over it once before leaning in and taking it deep into his mouth in one go, listening to Steve cry out as he sucks and licks his way around.
It's so much better than his memories, not least because his own technique has improved - he hopes. Steve fills his mouth and throat like he was made to measure, tasting salty and male, his scent deep and musky and faintly of seawater when Danny takes him deep enough to bury his nose in Steve's pubic hair. Danny hasn't felt this hungry for someone in a long time.
"Shit, Danny, wait, stop."
Danny looks up but doesn't stop completely, keeping the tip of Steve's cock in his mouth and letting his tongue play over it.
"Jesus, you're killing me."
Danny watches as Steve runs a hand over his face, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eye socket. The dark of his stubble puts his cheekbones into stark relief in the dim light of the room; Danny's stomach twists again at what a handsome man Steve's turned into.
"Let's get to bed, yeah? Then I promise you can do whatever you want to me, Danny."
Danny's dick jerks at the thought. He lets Steve slip out from between his lips and accepts the hand Steve holds out to him, letting himself be pulled up and into another kiss.
They work together to get rid of their clothes at last, letting hands and mouths wander over each new bit of exposed skin when the urge takes them, learning their way around these new versions of each other.
Danny ends up on his back on the bed, hands sunk into Steve's hair as Steve bites and sucks over his chest and collar bones and stomach, arching clear of the mattress when Steve lingers on his hipbone, teeth worrying the thin skin there into what he's sure will be a livid purple mark by tomorrow. It feels good to be claimed so passionately by someone again, to feel wanted and needed in such a way that it’s almost desperate.
Steve’s mouth wraps itself around Danny’s cock, enveloping it in perfect wet heat that has Danny choking on his own breath, his fingers clenching tightly around Steve’s short hair, taking a clump out at the roots as he rips one hand away to throw an arm over his own face. He bites into the muscle of his forearm when Steve takes him in even deeper, swallowing around him, sending vibrations through Danny’s already strung out body when he groans. His bottom lip catches the skin of Danny’s balls, stubble on his chin scraping and rasping over it with each bob of Steve’s head.
“Oh, Jesus, Steve. Fuck, that feels so good.”
Danny’s voice sounds broken even to his own ears, the words cracking in his dry mouth. He swallows down gulps of air when Steve pauses, pulling back to just lick at the head, giving Danny the dirtiest French kiss he’s ever had. His hands run up and down Danny’s thighs, restless, one coming to grip Danny’s shaft and stroke him firmly as he kisses just under Danny’s belly button, pressing his face into it as though he needs a minute himself.
“Steve. Steve, c’mere.”
Danny tugs him up again, his hands trembling a little when he releases Steve’s hair to pull on his arms, bringing their faces level and looking up into Steve’s eyes. He runs a thumb over Steve’s bottom lip, its fullness making something in his gut clench at the knowledge that he’s the cause, that Steve looks this wrecked because of him, that they’re getting this second chance. He wants Steve to fuck him, he wants to fuck Steve, he wants to come in Steve’s mouth and over his hand and over those stupid over-developed muscles and he wants to do it over and over again until they’re old enough to need medical help in getting there. He wants it all and he wants Steve and he doesn’t want to lose him again.
He’s also pretty sure that Steve can see it written all over his face, plain as day, but the tiny hopeful part of Danny thinks that maybe he can see some of it in Steve’s eyes; the light that isn’t just a reflection of himself.
Steve’s hand is still moving on his dick, and Danny has to close his eyes, head tipped back and forced into the pillow, when Steve rubs his thumb into the slit, making Danny’s breath catch in his chest. He can feel Steve’s own panted breaths on the side of his face, hot and damp like the Hawaiian night outside, can feel it hitch along with his own when Steve shifts and grinds his own erection into Danny’s thigh, sliding it up to rock into the groove of his hip, thrusting down in time with the movements of his hand.
Steve’s still watching him when Danny blinks his eyes open, studying him and his reactions, the same way he’d done all the first time, making sure that what he’s doing is feeling good for Danny. When Danny closes his eyes again, he can almost hear that creaky sofa bed as they rock together, instead of the pounding of the ocean and the steady, rapid thump of his heart. He arches up into Steve’s touches, pushing off the bed and wrapping his good leg around Steve’s, pulling him in closer, eliminating all distance between them.
Steve kisses him again, hungry, teeth clashing and biting at his bottom lip, and Danny runs his hand down Steve’s back, grabbing his ass for a moment before slipping it between them and taking Steve’s cock in his grasp. Steve makes a low keening noise into the side of Danny’s neck, his own hand stilling for a second before he gathers himself together and keeps stripping Danny’s cock, getting faster, matching Danny’s relentless pace on Steve, racing each other to the finish.
“Shit, Steve. Oh, yeah, like - like that. So good. So good.”
“Danny. Danny.”
Steve’s still saying Danny’s name as though he can’t believe this is happening, and Danny can’t really blame him. He keeps having this fleeting thought that any moment now he’s going to wake up and it’ll be 1998 again and he’ll be back in New Jersey dreaming about the hot Navy cadet he fucked the previous weekend.
Steve bites down on Danny’s collar bone when he comes, spilling hot and wet and copiously over Danny’s stomach and hand, his forehead pressing hard enough to almost be painful into Danny’s shoulder when his arm gives out underneath him. Danny pushes up into Steve’s hand a few more times until the feeling of Steve’s content sigh against his skin sends him into oblivion. Sensation ripples through him in waves, making him shiver despite the heat of Steve’s body covering him, and every muscle in his body relaxes simultaneously as Steve strokes him through the last of it, hand moving lazily now, touch gentle on oversensitive skin.
Danny turns his head enough to lean his temple against Steve’s, keeping his eyes closed, breathing in the scent of them together, of Steve’s hair product next to his nose, tasting Steve’s sweat when he licks his lips and tries to get his breath back. He smiles when Steve lifts his head and questing lips brush over his cheek before they reach his mouth. The resulting kiss is lazy, satiated, Steve’s hand moving up over Danny’s body, rubbing their come into his skin, before his fingers push into Danny’s mouth. Danny takes them, sucking each one clean in turn, and then kisses Steve again as he slides off to lie at his side.
“Thank you.”
**
Danny listens for the sound of Steve's car starting up before he goes back to bed, flopping down into the dirty sheets, wrapping himself in Steve's smell for a while longer, his dick twitching feebly in his boxers in response.
"Get over it, Williams."
His voice sounds loud in the empty apartment. He looks over at the desk again, at the note Steve had left lying in the center, and sighs. He gets up again, taking the note in his hand, ready to crumple it up and throw it in the trash, but he pauses as he looks down at it, the precise lettering making him smile at the Navy educated man who's written it. He breathes out heavily once more and grabs a tack from the notice board above his desk.
"Hawaii, huh? Yeah, well, we'll see about that."
**
Danny turns his head towards Steve, who still has one hand resting on Danny's stomach, his fingers moving every now and then, making little whorls in the hair there.
"Is this where we tell each other we never forgot and that we dreamt of this moment?"
Steve snorts into his pillow, running his hand over Danny's skin with more purpose now. Danny watches him rub his face in the pillow before he shifts to face Danny, still touching his stomach and chest.
"Well, I would be lying if I said I hadn't had a few wet dreams about that night over the years."
"Oh, yeah?"
Steve nods and pulls Danny closer, kissing him. Danny tastes himself on Steve's tongue and wishes, not for the first time tonight, that they were twenty-one again.
"Mm-hmm."
Danny smiles, sliding one of his thighs between Steve's, slick with sweat, hair rubbing against hair, so different from the last time he lay in bed with a partner like this after sex. Steve leans closer, his arm moving to grab Danny's waist more firmly now and pull him into Steve's body. It's hot enough in the room that it should be stifling but Danny just goes with it, kissing Steve again.
“I was in New York once, on a layover. I had eighteen hours between connections, I thought about you then. Wondered if you were still over the bay in Jersey, or what would happen if I tried to look you up.”
“Would’ve been a nice way to spend eighteen hours.”
Steve hums in agreement, their lips barely separating enough to speak. Danny feels the stresses of the day and the case slowly dissipating as Steve’s giant hand strokes up and down his spine.
“We could always take tomorrow off and spend the next eighteen hours making up for lost time.”
“I hate to break it to you, Steve, but neither of us are twenty-one anymore. I need to spend at least half of those hours sleeping.”
Danny pulls back a little way to look at Steve properly, seeing him open his mouth as if to protest only to be caught out by a yawn.
“Yeah, my point exactly.”
Steve rolls away onto his back and stretches his arms over his head, giving Danny a most pleasing view of his abdominal muscles shifting under his skin. Again, his gut twangs with want that he can’t act on. It’s simply not fair.
“You wanna clean up now or in the morning?”
“In the morning. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be waking you up in a few hours’ time for round two.”
Steve turns his head back to face Danny and smirks, leaving his arms up over his head as he closes his eyes and breathes out deeply. Danny reaches down and tugs the rumpled sheet up over the both of them, folding one arm under the pillow as he settles down, still watching the side of Steve’s face.
His eyes are already drooping when he hears Steve mutter something.
“Hmm?”
“I said, I’m glad you took my advice.”
“What advice? Shoot first, ask later?”
“No, about coming to Hawaii. I told you it was nice.”
Danny smiles despite himself, reaching over and resting his hand on Steve’s chest, feeling the slow beat of his heart against his palm.
“Yeah, well. Parts of it ain’t too bad, I suppose.”