Up and down the waves in my heart - Steve/Danny - 1/1
Title: Up and down the waves in my heart
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Danny has finally caved, and how is this his life again?
Disclaimer: Don't own them, no harm intended, no profit made etc.
Word count: 3780
Author's note: So this is my first H50 fic, I really hope you enjoy! kapoosh_kapow has generously looked this over (as I was convincing her to watch the show, which worked) so if there is any errors/brit words left in, it's all my fault. It's pre-1.15, as well, because I've not seen it yet :').
How is this his life? How did it ever become this, because really, last time he checked he explicitly said that he hated the beach and that there was no way he was going to start surfing but when does fucking Steve McGarrett listens to anyone, huh. His hearing’s probably shot to hell by all the explosions he enjoys creating anyway, but that’s not an excuse because Danny has been saying it over and over again since he moved to this stupid island, even before he met stupid Steve McGarrett, and really, with all that SEAL training of his, Steve doesn’t read lips?
He has to blame someone, because he’s certainly not going to blame himself for being so fucking weak in the face of McGarrett’s puppy look unleashed on him once again, he’s certainly not going to blame whatever feelings he has for his reckless tree-man of a partner. It most certainly isn’t his fault; it’s definitely Steve’s. Steve and Steve’s eyes and Steve’s long and lean body molded into a wetsuit and Steve’s smile, too, that goofy one that reached his eyes and lit his whole face and for those seconds he wasn't on the edge of an aneurysm. The nice one.
So it's because of all those things - and, okay, so maybe also a little because Danny is pathetically head over heels for Steve and it's fucking stupid and silly and they're work partners it will never work out, plus Steve likes to blow things up and dangle people off roofs and he's obviously terrible for Danny's health - that Danny finds himself in a wetsuit that feels way too small for him, sitting on a longboard with his legs on either side and his toes scraping the sand, water to his calves, next to Steve, who's grinning so broadly Danny wants to punch him.
"I swear if you even think about laughing I will shoot you. And don't think I won't, because I will."
"With what gun?"
Steve gives Danny a meaningful look at that, eyes going up and down Danny's body, and okay, that was a terrible come on, really, who does Steve think Danny is, a Queer As Folk character (he's only ever watched this because Rachel thought the boys were hot and she liked the comfort of the British accent)?
And why is even Steve looking at him like that, anyway. He's got no right to look at Danny that way, especially now because Danny is wearing the tightest wetsuit the world has ever known and he wouldn't even have the space to have a hard-on, but he definitely will anyway if Steve keeps on looking at him like that. Steve is an asshole.
"Shut up, McGarrett. I hate you. I hope you know that."
"Aw, come on. It's not that bad."
"Not that bad. Listen to him, it's not that bad."
Steve laughs - that fucking bastard, he starts laughing, and Danny doesn't stop hating him for a single second, not even to listen in to that sound that is quite rare and beautiful, and resonates through him as if Steve is laughing right in his brain. Danny will shoot him, for real.
"It really isn't, Danno. Look, good thing about this right now is that we won't really get any waves here, so you can learn how to get up on your board in the water. More fun than on the sand."
"It is not my board, it is your board, your idea, fuck, what am I even -"
"Shut up and paddle, Danno."
Danny is too stunned to even answer, and when he finds his words Steve is further away in the water, lying down on his board, looking all lean and his hair is wet and the drops of water lost in it are glinting in the late afternoon sun and he looks fucking delicious, and Danny grunts. He wants to die, he wants to dig himself a hole in the sun and bury himself alive and never come back up, never look at Steve McGarrett and his amazing ass ever again.
It takes a good, hard fight with himself but in the end Danny decides that maybe, if he listens and does as Steve wants him to then the lesson will end faster than if he protests all the way. It's awful and he wants to yell at Steve every two seconds as he paddles and tries to get up on his board and fails, tumbles in the water to the sound of Steve's laughter. Danny wants to kill him, this lunatic of a navy SEAL with flippers for feet that howls with laughter every time Danny falls into the water. He wants to kill him and he would, he would, if he didn't know that Steve would probably kill him first, and in an inventive way, with his ninja stealth SEAL techniques.
And really Steve should be nicer than this, mocking Danny when you know, he tries. It's enough of a message that he tries when he hates the beach and he hates surfing and he hates the sand and how it gets everywhere, even in this wetsuit that is actually a second skin, really. Danny is used to clingy clothes but this is just mental, this is out of this world clingy. Still, sand. Sand in parts where he never wants sand to go.
After his 30th tumble in the water (yes, of course he counted them, each and every one of them equals a beer that Steve will most definitely buy for him), when his fingers have pruned around the surfboard he's sitting on, Danny gives up. He's tired, he aches, his knee is fucking killing him, and he's had enough. He's never getting on a surfboard ever again.
"Okay, Danno, you're almost there -"
"No. No, no, no, I will not try again. I have tried 30 times, McGarrett, 30 times, it is more times than I needed to fall to learn how to ice skate, I will not try again, I am done, I am so done, you can keep your stupid board and your stupid surf I am finished and using your shower and getting back in my suit."
He sees Steve rolls his eyes and Danny clenches his hands around the board to avoid balling them into fists and launching himself at McGarrett.
"What, now, what? I like my suits, okay, my clothes are work appropriate and they're good quality and they're nice, okay, and they're not trying to shrink my entire body like this - fucking - stupid - wetsuit - is trying to!"
With every few words, Danny tugs on the wetsuit, undoing it at the back of his neck and sliding the zipper down before pulling at his arms, his focus on taking the offending garment off, off, off, because he can't breathe. He lets out a deep sigh of relief once it's off his upper body, tilting his head up to the sun, eyes closed. When he dares a look towards Steve, green-blue eyes are travelling all over his chest, and Danny's not self-conscious, no, but he's never quite seen that particular look on McGarrett's face before so it's a little unnerving.
"I'm going to go shower now."
"Huh? Oh. Okay."
Steve shakes his head, water flying around, and he looks like a puppy and Danny mellows out for just a second. After all, while they were doing this, Steve didn't try once to get him killed, which is, all things considered, quite an achievement, knowing that this man - Navy SEAL, Lieutenant Commander, what the fuck ever Steven McGarrett - put his and Danny's life on the line about 15 times a day.
Rolling his eyes, Danny lies back down on the board and paddles closer to the shore, sliding off and planting the board in the sand once he's out of the water, digging his toes in the sand for a second before moving forward to the outdoor shower next to Steve's patio. He's not waiting a second to get all that salt off him - he's not even mentioning the sand, he's sure he's got pounds of the shit stuck in his shorts under the stupid wetsuit.
It takes five minutes of playing around with the shower taps and not getting it to work before he starts grinding his teeth, but then he feels himself being crowded closer to the pipes and there are arms around him and shadows and McGarrett turns the shower on and fuck his ninja skills, he almost gave Danny a heart attack.
"You, you are so bad for my blood pressure."
"Anyone ever told you, you complain too much, Danno?"
Steve is still crowding him so they're both under the lukewarm spray of water and it feels good, the water - the water feels good, not those ridiculously large arms around him.
"You give me things to complain about, what can I say."
"You should take the wetsuit off, rinse it, too."
"Yeah well if you would move -"
Danny pushes a shoulder into Steve's chest and he didn't realize that Steve took his wetsuit off but now it's obvious he has - Danny turns sideways and sees Steve wearing long shorts and, okay. Fair enough. Danny has seen Steve shirtless enough times to keep his poker face on but he's so close right now, so close Danny would barely have to move to be able to lick at a nipple and just bury his nose in and smell the sun imbedded in Steve's skin. He turns back around sharply, elbowing Steve on purpose to create enough space for himself. He peels the wetsuit off his legs, keeping his shorts with one hand, this is so not dignified.
And Danny wants to yell again, frustration making his blood boil, tension simmer right under the surface, but he feels stupid and he looks it, too, one hand fisted in his shorts and one in his hair, scratching because sand and salt and sun it's so fucking uncomfortable. He hates this place, he hates this fucking stupid island.
"Stop - that."
A hand loosely wrapped around his wrist pulls it away from his head, and then suddenly he's got Steve's ape-sized hands in his hair, parting the strands and pushing Danny's head under the spray.
"Steven, can you stop acting like a monkey -"
"Shh, this is the best way to get rid of sand in your hair, just let me, will you?"
Steve reaches for something on the table behind the shower and pulls Danny back a little, with gentle hands that startle Danny a little, but he finds himself sort of relaxing under the touches; who would have thought that Steve McGarrett could be soft and gentle, not him, definitely.
Steve turns the bottle he grabbed on Danny’s hair, and Danny coughs, what is that smell, is that -
"Did you just put baby talc on my hair?"
Danny has a million things to say about that, first of all that talc should not go anywhere near his hair because it's a product made for babies' bottoms and -
"It breaks the oils that keep the grains of sand attached to your scalp. Rub it in a little, comb it out, wash off."
"Oh."
Danny hates how Steve can sometimes, very rarely, render him speechless. It's really, really annoying. And right now he's massaging Danny's scalp and fuck, it feels good, and Danny lets out this small mewling sound when he closes his eyes and then he blushes because he can feel Steve's movements faltering for a second before his fingertips are moving again, and then he's combing the talc out of Danny's hair with his fingers, catching in knots but Danny is Gracie's favorite head doll so really he's built a resistance to this stuff.
"Back under. Shampoo is just there."
Steve's voice is a little rough around the edges, more than usual, and Danny steps under the spray again, tilting his head and rinsing out the talc, washing his hair quickly. When he's done and he turns around, slicking his hair back, Steve is looking at him, his toes curled in the grass, looking tense. Danny wishes he had a McGarrett dictionary for those moments he doesn't know what to do or say.
So he says the first thing that comes through his head. It might not necessarily be completely true, but it's not a total lie, either. But he won't admit it again, to anyone else.
"I had a nice time, today."
It doesn't mean he'll get back onto a board at any time, but it seems to set Steve into motion, because he starts striding forward towards Danny now, backing him under the shower again, and he looks angry and hungry at the same time and Danny's lost, lost.
And then Steve kisses Danny. And, okay, Danny didn't expect it, maybe he wanted it but he did not expect it, but he expected even less how Steve is tentative and flicks his tongue over Danny's bottom lip before pulling back, his eyes bright as if he's just got an epiphany. Maybe he did, after all. Everything's possible, and after all, Danny did sort of moan a little when Steve's lips found his.
"You fucking idiot."
"What - what, excuse me, who are you calling an idiot?"
"I didn't think you would do it, Danno, you know? I really didn't. Can't believe you went through with it, even more that wetsuit."
Danny blinks, confused. What the fuck is happening, here, what did he miss completely that allows Steve to mock and insult him?
"I, huh - what?"
"I'm the idiot, Danny. Not you. Well, you too if you didn't see it either, but me. Me, I'm the idiot. I've been wanting this for ages and -"
"What, for me to surf?"
"No, no, you. Just you. Fuck, Danny, it makes sense, doesn't it?"
Thing is, it shouldn't, but it does. Because Danny would never ever in a million years would have done this, put on a wetsuit and get a surfboard and go in the water willingly, if it hadn't been for Steve. And Steve, well, Steve. Danny has no idea about Steve but it seems that he wanted this too so yeah, yeah it makes sense, shit.
And so if he's not the only one a little head over heels with his work partner then it's okay if Danny surges forward and kisses Steve, right? Because he totally does that, and Steve makes a tiny high-pitched noise and lets Danny lick his way inside his mouth and fits his huge hands on Danny's hips and pulls him closer, and yeah, yeah, it makes tons of sense.
And the good thing about this situation here is that, well, they're almost naked and Danny's brain short-circuits when he feels Steve's cock through his shorts. He has thought of this, thought about it a lot, let's be honest here, he's thought of Steve naked and on all fours and over his kitchen table and against the door and in the car, but now it's real and Danny really needs to get inside before he loses it completely and they're fucking outside.
"Steve-Steve, wait, shit, Jesus Christ."
Steve growls, low in his chest and it goes right through Danny where he's touching Steve and it's hot, okay, but inside, inside is much better than outside. Yes. Steve bites his bottom lip though and everything blurs for a second.
"Shit, God, Steve, okay. Okay, inside, now. I'm not getting on my knees here. My knee hurts, you know? Inside. Bed. Couch. Something soft, I don't give a fuck."
Steve pulls back enough for Danny to look into his eyes, which might be a mistake because his eyes, that bastard, his eyes are all dark and lustful and Danny wants to punch him for a second, just to see if that look stays or goes, wants to know if it's the same way he feels when he's using Danny's car as if he's completely mental, or throwing some suspect to the sharks.
But then Steve nods and Danny clenches his jaw when he pulls back completely, turning away and towards the house. Danny follows right after, and they're leaving trails of water around but Danny doesn't care because when he gets to the stairs, Steve pulls his shorts off and leaves them there on the step and he's naked and Danny feels heat engulf him from head to toe.
He races up the stairs after McGarrett, finding him on his bed, still naked, still wet, facing the door, and he's hard. He's hard and he's big and it's not really a revelation to Danny, he could have guessed that, but still, now he's seeing it and the heat becomes almost oppressing. He has to - do something, so he just goes for it and straddles Steve's lap and kisses him again and Steve seems to agree with the move because he groans again and cradles Danny's face with a hand, brushes his thumb over Danny's cheekbone and Danny is bursting out of his skin.
But his knee hurts so he rolls them over, spreads his legs and welcomes Steve between them, welcomes Steve's weight all over him, welcomes Steve's kisses trailing down his jaw and then his neck, going down. Down to his nipple, his ribs, nipping at the muscles and going down still, tongue dipping in Danny's belly-button, all the way down until he's got his fingers curled into Danny's shorts' waistband and he's tugging, Danny's cock hitting his neck when it springs free.
And then his cock is in Steve's mouth, and Steve does one of those Navy SEAL techniques with his tongue around Danny's erection and Danny's whole body sparks to life.
"Oh, Jesus fuck!"
Danny could go mad from this, he really honestly could. But it doesn't last and Steve is all over him again, traveling back up until they're kissing again and he's got a smile on his face. Danny hunts for his own taste in Steve's mouth and who would have thought that being married for 10 years wouldn't have destroyed the men-loving part of Danny. Danny thought he honestly wasn't ever going to go there again, before he met Steve McfuckingGarrett.
And now they're both naked and wet and their cocks are lining up beautifully, a good thing about not being vertical, and Danny is losing his mind. Steve keeps on making these tiny little sounds, like mewls, and it's so odd and enthralling Danny finds himself touching and kissing wherever he can to try and get more sounds out.
He's not going to last and there will not be any fucking happening right now, he knows this perfectly well but he doesn't mind either because, you know. He hasn't come from anything else than his own hand and thoughts of McGarrett stripping in yet another parking lot in months. So this is a step up, even if right now there is no actual fucking happening. This happening at all is fine by him, because he’s a little bit in love with his mental navy SEAL of a partner.
They’re almost oddly silent, besides grunts and moans and those high-pitched sounds Steve makes, and Danny really thought they’d be more vocal than this but it’s just because Danny can’t stop to think long enough about what he can say, his brain a muddled mix of fuckyes and stevestevesteve and righttherejesusfuckingchrist when he lifts his hips up, thrusting up into Steve’s. And he’s spinning out of control into complete, unadulterated bliss, gripping Steve’s shoulders, fingers sliding along to his arms, over tattoos, digging into muscles, and he kisses Steve, wherever he can reach, and Steve is kissing him, too, grunting into his ear, rutting against Danny as if fucking a girl, but Danny didn’t think for a second that maybe Steve was thinking about a woman right now, no way. He whispers Danny’s name every few beats of his heart and yeah, Danny’s gone, so gone.
He comes hard and messily over his stomach and Steve’s, and Steve lets out a long, drawn-out moan, the kind that you hold for a while and comes out in a rush of air and Danny brushes the back of his head, finally finding his words again.
“Come on, babe, come for me, yeah? C’mon, Steve.”
It takes Steve right over the edge and his whole body goes tense over Danny when he comes, his muscles hard under Danny’s fingers. Danny bites into the chords of Steve’s neck where they stand out, holding him tight as Steve rides his high. Then he slumps on top of Danny and Danny can only do one thing - he laughs, and laughs, and laughs some more until Steve pokes him in the ribs.
“Stop that.”
“Sorry, what? You have something to say, Steven? Speak up, I’m not hearing you with your face squashed into my shoulder like that.”
Steve sighs and lifts his head, looks down at Danny, and his eyes are softer than earlier, the edge gone, but there is still lust swirling in there. This fact pleases Danny.
“I said stop that. Stop laughing.”
“I’m not mocking you, so don’t pout.”
Steve does anyway, just because he likes it, Danny is sure of it. So he pushes Steve off him and turns to his side, looking straight at Steve, who’s apparently back to looking serious, eyes traveling over Danny’s face. He looks sleepy.
“Why then?”
“Just. You were right. And I don’t say that often, so please don’t start thinking you’ve got the upper hand on this relationship. We both know I am the brains in this partnership.”
“Yes, Danno.”
Danny doesn’t even care that he knows Steve is just placating him. By that point he doesn’t care about a single thing in the world anymore, because Steve is falling asleep next to him and he’s fucking exhausted, too, fucked out, and it’s easy to slip against Steve’s chest and when Steve drapes an arm around him, Danny smiles and closes his eyes.
“We don’t need to talk about this, do we?”
Danny groans, sighing against Steve’s arm. It can wait, the talking, it definitely can wait until they’re awake again and drinking beer on the lanai.
“Not right now, babe. Not right now.”
“Good. Although I think I said everything I had to say.”
“You didn’t say anything, you called me an idiot and then you kissed me.”
“Exactly.”
Danny just laughs, and then he falls asleep to the sound and feel of Steve’s soft snores against his neck.
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Danny has finally caved, and how is this his life again?
Disclaimer: Don't own them, no harm intended, no profit made etc.
Word count: 3780
Author's note: So this is my first H50 fic, I really hope you enjoy! kapoosh_kapow has generously looked this over (as I was convincing her to watch the show, which worked) so if there is any errors/brit words left in, it's all my fault. It's pre-1.15, as well, because I've not seen it yet :').
How is this his life? How did it ever become this, because really, last time he checked he explicitly said that he hated the beach and that there was no way he was going to start surfing but when does fucking Steve McGarrett listens to anyone, huh. His hearing’s probably shot to hell by all the explosions he enjoys creating anyway, but that’s not an excuse because Danny has been saying it over and over again since he moved to this stupid island, even before he met stupid Steve McGarrett, and really, with all that SEAL training of his, Steve doesn’t read lips?
He has to blame someone, because he’s certainly not going to blame himself for being so fucking weak in the face of McGarrett’s puppy look unleashed on him once again, he’s certainly not going to blame whatever feelings he has for his reckless tree-man of a partner. It most certainly isn’t his fault; it’s definitely Steve’s. Steve and Steve’s eyes and Steve’s long and lean body molded into a wetsuit and Steve’s smile, too, that goofy one that reached his eyes and lit his whole face and for those seconds he wasn't on the edge of an aneurysm. The nice one.
So it's because of all those things - and, okay, so maybe also a little because Danny is pathetically head over heels for Steve and it's fucking stupid and silly and they're work partners it will never work out, plus Steve likes to blow things up and dangle people off roofs and he's obviously terrible for Danny's health - that Danny finds himself in a wetsuit that feels way too small for him, sitting on a longboard with his legs on either side and his toes scraping the sand, water to his calves, next to Steve, who's grinning so broadly Danny wants to punch him.
"I swear if you even think about laughing I will shoot you. And don't think I won't, because I will."
"With what gun?"
Steve gives Danny a meaningful look at that, eyes going up and down Danny's body, and okay, that was a terrible come on, really, who does Steve think Danny is, a Queer As Folk character (he's only ever watched this because Rachel thought the boys were hot and she liked the comfort of the British accent)?
And why is even Steve looking at him like that, anyway. He's got no right to look at Danny that way, especially now because Danny is wearing the tightest wetsuit the world has ever known and he wouldn't even have the space to have a hard-on, but he definitely will anyway if Steve keeps on looking at him like that. Steve is an asshole.
"Shut up, McGarrett. I hate you. I hope you know that."
"Aw, come on. It's not that bad."
"Not that bad. Listen to him, it's not that bad."
Steve laughs - that fucking bastard, he starts laughing, and Danny doesn't stop hating him for a single second, not even to listen in to that sound that is quite rare and beautiful, and resonates through him as if Steve is laughing right in his brain. Danny will shoot him, for real.
"It really isn't, Danno. Look, good thing about this right now is that we won't really get any waves here, so you can learn how to get up on your board in the water. More fun than on the sand."
"It is not my board, it is your board, your idea, fuck, what am I even -"
"Shut up and paddle, Danno."
Danny is too stunned to even answer, and when he finds his words Steve is further away in the water, lying down on his board, looking all lean and his hair is wet and the drops of water lost in it are glinting in the late afternoon sun and he looks fucking delicious, and Danny grunts. He wants to die, he wants to dig himself a hole in the sun and bury himself alive and never come back up, never look at Steve McGarrett and his amazing ass ever again.
It takes a good, hard fight with himself but in the end Danny decides that maybe, if he listens and does as Steve wants him to then the lesson will end faster than if he protests all the way. It's awful and he wants to yell at Steve every two seconds as he paddles and tries to get up on his board and fails, tumbles in the water to the sound of Steve's laughter. Danny wants to kill him, this lunatic of a navy SEAL with flippers for feet that howls with laughter every time Danny falls into the water. He wants to kill him and he would, he would, if he didn't know that Steve would probably kill him first, and in an inventive way, with his ninja stealth SEAL techniques.
And really Steve should be nicer than this, mocking Danny when you know, he tries. It's enough of a message that he tries when he hates the beach and he hates surfing and he hates the sand and how it gets everywhere, even in this wetsuit that is actually a second skin, really. Danny is used to clingy clothes but this is just mental, this is out of this world clingy. Still, sand. Sand in parts where he never wants sand to go.
After his 30th tumble in the water (yes, of course he counted them, each and every one of them equals a beer that Steve will most definitely buy for him), when his fingers have pruned around the surfboard he's sitting on, Danny gives up. He's tired, he aches, his knee is fucking killing him, and he's had enough. He's never getting on a surfboard ever again.
"Okay, Danno, you're almost there -"
"No. No, no, no, I will not try again. I have tried 30 times, McGarrett, 30 times, it is more times than I needed to fall to learn how to ice skate, I will not try again, I am done, I am so done, you can keep your stupid board and your stupid surf I am finished and using your shower and getting back in my suit."
He sees Steve rolls his eyes and Danny clenches his hands around the board to avoid balling them into fists and launching himself at McGarrett.
"What, now, what? I like my suits, okay, my clothes are work appropriate and they're good quality and they're nice, okay, and they're not trying to shrink my entire body like this - fucking - stupid - wetsuit - is trying to!"
With every few words, Danny tugs on the wetsuit, undoing it at the back of his neck and sliding the zipper down before pulling at his arms, his focus on taking the offending garment off, off, off, because he can't breathe. He lets out a deep sigh of relief once it's off his upper body, tilting his head up to the sun, eyes closed. When he dares a look towards Steve, green-blue eyes are travelling all over his chest, and Danny's not self-conscious, no, but he's never quite seen that particular look on McGarrett's face before so it's a little unnerving.
"I'm going to go shower now."
"Huh? Oh. Okay."
Steve shakes his head, water flying around, and he looks like a puppy and Danny mellows out for just a second. After all, while they were doing this, Steve didn't try once to get him killed, which is, all things considered, quite an achievement, knowing that this man - Navy SEAL, Lieutenant Commander, what the fuck ever Steven McGarrett - put his and Danny's life on the line about 15 times a day.
Rolling his eyes, Danny lies back down on the board and paddles closer to the shore, sliding off and planting the board in the sand once he's out of the water, digging his toes in the sand for a second before moving forward to the outdoor shower next to Steve's patio. He's not waiting a second to get all that salt off him - he's not even mentioning the sand, he's sure he's got pounds of the shit stuck in his shorts under the stupid wetsuit.
It takes five minutes of playing around with the shower taps and not getting it to work before he starts grinding his teeth, but then he feels himself being crowded closer to the pipes and there are arms around him and shadows and McGarrett turns the shower on and fuck his ninja skills, he almost gave Danny a heart attack.
"You, you are so bad for my blood pressure."
"Anyone ever told you, you complain too much, Danno?"
Steve is still crowding him so they're both under the lukewarm spray of water and it feels good, the water - the water feels good, not those ridiculously large arms around him.
"You give me things to complain about, what can I say."
"You should take the wetsuit off, rinse it, too."
"Yeah well if you would move -"
Danny pushes a shoulder into Steve's chest and he didn't realize that Steve took his wetsuit off but now it's obvious he has - Danny turns sideways and sees Steve wearing long shorts and, okay. Fair enough. Danny has seen Steve shirtless enough times to keep his poker face on but he's so close right now, so close Danny would barely have to move to be able to lick at a nipple and just bury his nose in and smell the sun imbedded in Steve's skin. He turns back around sharply, elbowing Steve on purpose to create enough space for himself. He peels the wetsuit off his legs, keeping his shorts with one hand, this is so not dignified.
And Danny wants to yell again, frustration making his blood boil, tension simmer right under the surface, but he feels stupid and he looks it, too, one hand fisted in his shorts and one in his hair, scratching because sand and salt and sun it's so fucking uncomfortable. He hates this place, he hates this fucking stupid island.
"Stop - that."
A hand loosely wrapped around his wrist pulls it away from his head, and then suddenly he's got Steve's ape-sized hands in his hair, parting the strands and pushing Danny's head under the spray.
"Steven, can you stop acting like a monkey -"
"Shh, this is the best way to get rid of sand in your hair, just let me, will you?"
Steve reaches for something on the table behind the shower and pulls Danny back a little, with gentle hands that startle Danny a little, but he finds himself sort of relaxing under the touches; who would have thought that Steve McGarrett could be soft and gentle, not him, definitely.
Steve turns the bottle he grabbed on Danny’s hair, and Danny coughs, what is that smell, is that -
"Did you just put baby talc on my hair?"
Danny has a million things to say about that, first of all that talc should not go anywhere near his hair because it's a product made for babies' bottoms and -
"It breaks the oils that keep the grains of sand attached to your scalp. Rub it in a little, comb it out, wash off."
"Oh."
Danny hates how Steve can sometimes, very rarely, render him speechless. It's really, really annoying. And right now he's massaging Danny's scalp and fuck, it feels good, and Danny lets out this small mewling sound when he closes his eyes and then he blushes because he can feel Steve's movements faltering for a second before his fingertips are moving again, and then he's combing the talc out of Danny's hair with his fingers, catching in knots but Danny is Gracie's favorite head doll so really he's built a resistance to this stuff.
"Back under. Shampoo is just there."
Steve's voice is a little rough around the edges, more than usual, and Danny steps under the spray again, tilting his head and rinsing out the talc, washing his hair quickly. When he's done and he turns around, slicking his hair back, Steve is looking at him, his toes curled in the grass, looking tense. Danny wishes he had a McGarrett dictionary for those moments he doesn't know what to do or say.
So he says the first thing that comes through his head. It might not necessarily be completely true, but it's not a total lie, either. But he won't admit it again, to anyone else.
"I had a nice time, today."
It doesn't mean he'll get back onto a board at any time, but it seems to set Steve into motion, because he starts striding forward towards Danny now, backing him under the shower again, and he looks angry and hungry at the same time and Danny's lost, lost.
And then Steve kisses Danny. And, okay, Danny didn't expect it, maybe he wanted it but he did not expect it, but he expected even less how Steve is tentative and flicks his tongue over Danny's bottom lip before pulling back, his eyes bright as if he's just got an epiphany. Maybe he did, after all. Everything's possible, and after all, Danny did sort of moan a little when Steve's lips found his.
"You fucking idiot."
"What - what, excuse me, who are you calling an idiot?"
"I didn't think you would do it, Danno, you know? I really didn't. Can't believe you went through with it, even more that wetsuit."
Danny blinks, confused. What the fuck is happening, here, what did he miss completely that allows Steve to mock and insult him?
"I, huh - what?"
"I'm the idiot, Danny. Not you. Well, you too if you didn't see it either, but me. Me, I'm the idiot. I've been wanting this for ages and -"
"What, for me to surf?"
"No, no, you. Just you. Fuck, Danny, it makes sense, doesn't it?"
Thing is, it shouldn't, but it does. Because Danny would never ever in a million years would have done this, put on a wetsuit and get a surfboard and go in the water willingly, if it hadn't been for Steve. And Steve, well, Steve. Danny has no idea about Steve but it seems that he wanted this too so yeah, yeah it makes sense, shit.
And so if he's not the only one a little head over heels with his work partner then it's okay if Danny surges forward and kisses Steve, right? Because he totally does that, and Steve makes a tiny high-pitched noise and lets Danny lick his way inside his mouth and fits his huge hands on Danny's hips and pulls him closer, and yeah, yeah, it makes tons of sense.
And the good thing about this situation here is that, well, they're almost naked and Danny's brain short-circuits when he feels Steve's cock through his shorts. He has thought of this, thought about it a lot, let's be honest here, he's thought of Steve naked and on all fours and over his kitchen table and against the door and in the car, but now it's real and Danny really needs to get inside before he loses it completely and they're fucking outside.
"Steve-Steve, wait, shit, Jesus Christ."
Steve growls, low in his chest and it goes right through Danny where he's touching Steve and it's hot, okay, but inside, inside is much better than outside. Yes. Steve bites his bottom lip though and everything blurs for a second.
"Shit, God, Steve, okay. Okay, inside, now. I'm not getting on my knees here. My knee hurts, you know? Inside. Bed. Couch. Something soft, I don't give a fuck."
Steve pulls back enough for Danny to look into his eyes, which might be a mistake because his eyes, that bastard, his eyes are all dark and lustful and Danny wants to punch him for a second, just to see if that look stays or goes, wants to know if it's the same way he feels when he's using Danny's car as if he's completely mental, or throwing some suspect to the sharks.
But then Steve nods and Danny clenches his jaw when he pulls back completely, turning away and towards the house. Danny follows right after, and they're leaving trails of water around but Danny doesn't care because when he gets to the stairs, Steve pulls his shorts off and leaves them there on the step and he's naked and Danny feels heat engulf him from head to toe.
He races up the stairs after McGarrett, finding him on his bed, still naked, still wet, facing the door, and he's hard. He's hard and he's big and it's not really a revelation to Danny, he could have guessed that, but still, now he's seeing it and the heat becomes almost oppressing. He has to - do something, so he just goes for it and straddles Steve's lap and kisses him again and Steve seems to agree with the move because he groans again and cradles Danny's face with a hand, brushes his thumb over Danny's cheekbone and Danny is bursting out of his skin.
But his knee hurts so he rolls them over, spreads his legs and welcomes Steve between them, welcomes Steve's weight all over him, welcomes Steve's kisses trailing down his jaw and then his neck, going down. Down to his nipple, his ribs, nipping at the muscles and going down still, tongue dipping in Danny's belly-button, all the way down until he's got his fingers curled into Danny's shorts' waistband and he's tugging, Danny's cock hitting his neck when it springs free.
And then his cock is in Steve's mouth, and Steve does one of those Navy SEAL techniques with his tongue around Danny's erection and Danny's whole body sparks to life.
"Oh, Jesus fuck!"
Danny could go mad from this, he really honestly could. But it doesn't last and Steve is all over him again, traveling back up until they're kissing again and he's got a smile on his face. Danny hunts for his own taste in Steve's mouth and who would have thought that being married for 10 years wouldn't have destroyed the men-loving part of Danny. Danny thought he honestly wasn't ever going to go there again, before he met Steve McfuckingGarrett.
And now they're both naked and wet and their cocks are lining up beautifully, a good thing about not being vertical, and Danny is losing his mind. Steve keeps on making these tiny little sounds, like mewls, and it's so odd and enthralling Danny finds himself touching and kissing wherever he can to try and get more sounds out.
He's not going to last and there will not be any fucking happening right now, he knows this perfectly well but he doesn't mind either because, you know. He hasn't come from anything else than his own hand and thoughts of McGarrett stripping in yet another parking lot in months. So this is a step up, even if right now there is no actual fucking happening. This happening at all is fine by him, because he’s a little bit in love with his mental navy SEAL of a partner.
They’re almost oddly silent, besides grunts and moans and those high-pitched sounds Steve makes, and Danny really thought they’d be more vocal than this but it’s just because Danny can’t stop to think long enough about what he can say, his brain a muddled mix of fuckyes and stevestevesteve and righttherejesusfuckingchrist when he lifts his hips up, thrusting up into Steve’s. And he’s spinning out of control into complete, unadulterated bliss, gripping Steve’s shoulders, fingers sliding along to his arms, over tattoos, digging into muscles, and he kisses Steve, wherever he can reach, and Steve is kissing him, too, grunting into his ear, rutting against Danny as if fucking a girl, but Danny didn’t think for a second that maybe Steve was thinking about a woman right now, no way. He whispers Danny’s name every few beats of his heart and yeah, Danny’s gone, so gone.
He comes hard and messily over his stomach and Steve’s, and Steve lets out a long, drawn-out moan, the kind that you hold for a while and comes out in a rush of air and Danny brushes the back of his head, finally finding his words again.
“Come on, babe, come for me, yeah? C’mon, Steve.”
It takes Steve right over the edge and his whole body goes tense over Danny when he comes, his muscles hard under Danny’s fingers. Danny bites into the chords of Steve’s neck where they stand out, holding him tight as Steve rides his high. Then he slumps on top of Danny and Danny can only do one thing - he laughs, and laughs, and laughs some more until Steve pokes him in the ribs.
“Stop that.”
“Sorry, what? You have something to say, Steven? Speak up, I’m not hearing you with your face squashed into my shoulder like that.”
Steve sighs and lifts his head, looks down at Danny, and his eyes are softer than earlier, the edge gone, but there is still lust swirling in there. This fact pleases Danny.
“I said stop that. Stop laughing.”
“I’m not mocking you, so don’t pout.”
Steve does anyway, just because he likes it, Danny is sure of it. So he pushes Steve off him and turns to his side, looking straight at Steve, who’s apparently back to looking serious, eyes traveling over Danny’s face. He looks sleepy.
“Why then?”
“Just. You were right. And I don’t say that often, so please don’t start thinking you’ve got the upper hand on this relationship. We both know I am the brains in this partnership.”
“Yes, Danno.”
Danny doesn’t even care that he knows Steve is just placating him. By that point he doesn’t care about a single thing in the world anymore, because Steve is falling asleep next to him and he’s fucking exhausted, too, fucked out, and it’s easy to slip against Steve’s chest and when Steve drapes an arm around him, Danny smiles and closes his eyes.
“We don’t need to talk about this, do we?”
Danny groans, sighing against Steve’s arm. It can wait, the talking, it definitely can wait until they’re awake again and drinking beer on the lanai.
“Not right now, babe. Not right now.”
“Good. Although I think I said everything I had to say.”
“You didn’t say anything, you called me an idiot and then you kissed me.”
“Exactly.”
Danny just laughs, and then he falls asleep to the sound and feel of Steve’s soft snores against his neck.