blame it on the ocean view - Steve/Danny - NC-17
Author: carryokee
Recipient: theellibu
Title: blame it on the ocean view
Pairings/Characters: Steve/Danny
Summary: Danny gives in, freaks out, and comes to his senses.
Rating: NC-17
Content: N/A
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 5,050
Disclaimer: All Hawaii Five-0 characters herein are the property of CBS. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters engaging in sexual activity are 16 years or older.
Author's Notes: My dear recipient, I did my best to include everything you asked for. If it misses the mark, blame Danny. Sometimes he just didn't want to cooperate. :)
Sure, Danny’s clothes were a little crumpled, but there could be any number of reasons for that, he figured, as he walked quickly through the well-appointed lobby of The Royal Hawaiian in the predawn hours of Saturday morning. Maybe he’d accidentally fallen asleep in them. Or maybe he just hated ironing. Or maybe he just hadn’t been to bed yet. Except if that were true, it would probably make more sense for him to be entering the hotel instead of leaving it. Whatever. The point was, there was absolutely no reason for anyone possibly watching to suspect that his clothes had just spent many of the last several hours in a heap on the floor of the luxuriously expensive Ali’i Suite after being peeled off by eager hands - only two of which were his own.
It wasn’t a walk of shame, exactly. It was more like a walk of shit-shit-shit, which was basically all Danny had been thinking since his eyes first focused and coherent thought slammed into his frontal lobe just a few minutes ago. And no, they were not the same thing. There was a fine but clear distinction, even if Danny was the only one to see it.
The humidity slapped him in the face as he stepped through the front doors, but he filled his lungs a couple times anyway, consciously ignoring the curious looks of the two valets - and who the hell needed valet service at 5AM on a Saturday, anyway? - watching him from their station through a cloud of cigarette smoke. He needed a few calming breaths, damn it. And some coffee. And maybe a time machine.
And his fucking car keys, he discovered a couple minutes later, as he stood next to his very locked car patting his very keyless pockets.
He stared gloomily at the tinted driver’s window. The empty seat mocked him from behind his reflection. He flipped it off.
+++
Danny whistles appreciatively at the expensive view framed in dusky pinks and purples, then turns to Steve. “Remind me again why you got to stay here and I didn’t.”
Steve plucks at the open collar of his designer dress shirt. “Because I’m the high roller, Danny.”
Danny rolls his eyes. “Please. Everything you know about poker you learned from me. Before I came along, you would’ve barely passed for a poker fish much less a shark.”
“Is that right?” Steve’s smiling that stupid smile of his that drives Danny absolutely crazy. And not in a manly I-want-to-punch-him-in-his-stupid-mouth way, either, but more like in an I-wonder-what-it-tastes-like way. Which? Damned distracting. But he is a grown up, and a Williams, which means he can repress with the best of them.
“That’s right, babe,” he says. “And then where would this case be, huh? Think about that.” He walks into the spacious living room, mostly to put some space between the two of them. The room was nearly bigger than the entirety of his old apartment, which, really? Not fair. Not fair at all. And that’s exactly why it should’ve been Danny staying here, to even the score for a few days if nothing else. Steve already has an ocean view. And a shower that works.
“Tell you what,” Steve says, walking up next to him and draping his arm loosely around Danny’s neck, totally wrecking Danny’s plan to impose stringent personal space boundaries. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? The suite’s already paid for and I’m kinda sick of it anyway. Besides, now that the case is solved, I can finally go home. Sleep in my own bed.”
Danny looks over at him, unable to stop his smile. “Does that include room service?”
Steve matches his smile. “Of course.”
“What about pay-per-view?”
Steve laughs, pulling Danny closer for a brief moment before releasing him. He points at Danny. “No porn, Danno.”
“Damn,” Danny says. “I was looking forward to seeing Debbie Does the Big Island.”
Steve walks in the direction of the master bedroom. “You’ll just have to settle for the bootleg version like the rest of us,” he says as he disappears.
Danny looks around again, then walks over to the luxurious sofa and sinks into it, propping his feet up on the coffee table. He can already feel the tension start to seep from his body. Who cares if he doesn’t even have a change of clothes? He’ll just lounge around in his complimentary bathrobe like Hugh Heffner and sleep naked like he did before Gracie learned to walk. Through the open patio doors he can hear the sound of the surf drowning out everything else.
He could totally get used to this.
+++
The valets smiled at him when he walked past them again. “Good morning, sir,” one of them said. Danny wished he had his gun.
The elevator dinged quietly as the doors slid open on the correct floor, but Danny didn’t step out. He just stood there as the doors shut again, continued standing there for several long moments, and then had no choice but to stand there as the elevator started moving again. It went up five floors and stopped, where a pretty young woman in a wrinkled blue dress and mussed hair got on, holding her shoes in her hand. She smiled at him a little, but didn’t meet his eyes, then turned her back and punched the lobby button, staring solemnly at her own disheveled reflection as the doors hissed shut.
Soul sister, Danny thought. He had the urge to fist bump her.
Reluctantly, he pushed the button for his floor and watched the numbers tick down one at a time, his stomach clenching tighter with each tick. When the doors dinged open again, he still didn’t move. The woman cast a questioning look over her shoulder at him. Danny smiled weakly. “Right. This is my floor.” Smooth.
The doors started sliding shut again and Danny stepped forward, catching one of them with his hand and forcing them back open. Stepping into the hall, he just stood there, looking in the direction of the Ali’i Suite and debating whether or not climbing down 16 flights of stairs would result in the need for a knee replacement. He just might be willing to risk it.
+++
Steve’s duffel - because high-stakes gamblers always pack their expensive suits in Navy issue duffel bags, of course they do - sits on the floor by the suite’s front door, waiting to be carried back to Steve’s house, while Steve himself leans back in his chair and takes a deep pull from his beer, peering at Danny over the end of the bottle. “I thought the plan was for you to stay and me to go home,” he says.
So it was. Obviously that hasn’t happened yet and Danny’s not sure why, really. Steve just sort of…never left. And Danny just sort of…let him. Not that Danny’s complaining. He’d rather have Steve here with him than downstairs schmoozing with a bunch of phony assholes with a provocatively clad Lori Weston hanging from his arm every goddamn second. Not that he’s jealous or anything. It’s just, well, it’s Lori, for fuck’s sake, and he doesn’t need Steve Irwin to tell him what he can see with his own two eyes - namely that Officer Weston, alpha female, has her pheromones aimed straight in alpha male McGarrett’s direction, trigger on full automatic.
And now he’s using assault weapon metaphors, god help him. It’s all Steve’s fault.
Repress, damn it. Repress, repress, repress.
He tips his head towards the door. “No one’s stopping you.” He takes a sip from his own beer and sets the bottle on the table, turning it slowly in his fingers.
Steve’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “No?” He shrugs. “Okay, then.” He stands up and Danny watches him walk to the door, watches him bend and pick up his bag, sees the flex of muscle in Steve’s forearm as he hefts it.
Danny stands up quickly, nearly knocking his chair over. His fingers close around the neck of his bottle. “Unless you want to stay and watch a movie,” he blurts, his mouth going dry. “Or something.” Holy hell. It’s like eighth grade all over again.
Steve’s eyes meet his. His duffel bag hits the floor.
+++
In the end, maturity won out and Danny walked the 42 steps - yes, he counted them, okay? - to the door of the suite and knocked. And didn’t hold his breath while he waited.
Alright, maybe he did, since it all came out in a rush when the door opened and Steve said, “Forget something?” He wasn’t smiling, either, which Danny probably should have expected, but it still kinda stabbed him in the gut anyway. Steve was wearing his…well, Danny didn’t know which face Steve was wearing, actually. It was one Danny hadn’t seen before, which was probably a bad sign.
He blushed. “My, uh, keys.” He shuffled his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked at Steve’s eyebrows, which were in the vicinity of his eyes and therefore counted as eye contact. “You didn’t happen to find them, did you?” He knew he was being an asshole but couldn’t seem to help himself. Besides, no one had ever accused him of being completely rational.
Steve just looked at him across the threshold. His hair was sticking up in a few different directions - whether from sleeping or from Danny’s hands Danny didn’t know. Probably both. He was also - very unhelpfully - shirtless, and even from two feet away, Danny could smell him. Steve hadn’t showered yet, which meant that he still smelled like…well, like Danny did. Danny hadn’t showered either, of course, not with Operation Holy Crap in full operational mode within 30 seconds of him waking up. He mentally shuddered at the memory of frantically searching the floor for his clothes in the dark. Frankly, he was surprised he hadn’t left anything else behind besides his keys. Although he seemed to be missing most of his backbone at the moment.
He looked out the window at the end of the hallway. The first gray fingers of dawn were just lighting the sky. It was officially morning. Officially the morning after. “Look, Steve. You think you could, uh-”
“For christ’s sake, Danny,” Steve said, exasperated. Fingers gripped Danny’s arm. “Get the fuck in here.”
+++
It happens just like this: They’re just standing there. Then Danny moves first, a few steps to close the space between them. There’s a puff of breath from Steve’s lips as his back hits the door. And then they’re kissing.
Steve’s hands are on him, fingers tugging at the tails of Danny’s shirt and sliding under, skin against skin, and Danny makes this little sound, this fucking little whine and slides his mouth away, breathing heavily against Steve’s neck. His hands are shaking and his erection is pressing against the fly of his pants and he just stands there concentrating on where Steve’s skin meets his, trying not to think about what the hell he’s doing or what it means or what the fuck is going to happen tomorrow.
“Danny. Maybe-”
“Shut up, Steven,” Danny whispers. He finds Steve’s buttons and starts working them open, letting his fingers trail lightly across each inch of newly exposed skin. He’s seen it all before, of course, but he’s never touched it, not with intent, and he wants to remember what it feels like. It’s already better than he thought it would be. And when he pushes Steve’s shirt aside and closes his mouth over a nipple, Steve’s reaction is just as good.
“Fuck,” Steve breathes, and threads his fingers through Danny’s hair, fingertips pressing into the back of Danny’s head.
Danny’s hands find Steve’s hips and hold on.
+++
The door closed behind him before Danny even had a chance to protest. Steve left him standing there and disappeared around the corner. With so much space between them, Danny found he could breathe again, though he still felt jittery inside his skin, like it didn’t quite fit. He couldn’t see the bed from here, but the doorway itself was enough of a reminder. Ground Zero.
“Your keys are on the dining table,” Steve said, suddenly standing right in front of him again. He was holding two steaming mugs and held one out to Danny. “Where you left them. Last night.” The words were pointed, but Danny was still trying to process how it was possible that he hadn’t even noticed he’d been standing in the same spot long enough for Steve to make coffee. And get dressed - a detail that his brain suddenly registered with a brief pang of regret.
Danny took the offered mug and laughed nervously. “How ’bout that.” He walked a large loop around Steve and into the living room to avoid touching him. The dining table was littered with beer bottles and dirty room service dishes. Crime scene evidence, Danny thought grimly. On the far end of the table next to the wilting centerpiece were Danny’s keys.
He eyed them as he took a big sip of coffee. His fingers itched to grab them and escape as quickly as possible and he would, except that Steve was standing just a few feet behind him and the weight of his gaze was holding Danny in place. The silence dragged on as he took another sip.
“Is it the sex in general or the fact that it was with me that has you freaking out?”
Danny spluttered around his mouthful of coffee, choking on half and barely managing to catch the rest in his cup. He dragged his hand across his mouth as he spun to look at Steve. Steve’s face was perfectly calm, but his eyes belied his expression. He was angry.
“Uh,” was all Danny could say.
+++
Steve moves so quickly, it takes Danny a second to even piece together what happened until the still-functioning part of his brain kicks in and he finds himself pinned chest first against the door, hands above his head, Steve’s body pressed against his back. Steve’s hands are opening Danny’s buttons from behind and Danny can feel the hard line of Steve’s arousal against his ass. He tries to push against it, but Steve holds him in place, and Danny huffs out a breath of frustration.
“You have no idea,” Steve says, his rough voice pressing the words into Danny’s ear.
He doesn’t say anything else and Danny doesn’t have the chance to even wonder about it before Steve’s hand cups Danny’s erection and squeezes. Danny jerks his hips, his head falling against the door with a thump, reality reducing down to that single point of contact.
He wants to push forward into the heat of Steve’s hand, needs more friction, but Steve holds him still, his other hand flat against Danny’s chest, fingertips working a nipple, sending spikes of sensation straight to Danny’s cock. There are teeth on his neck, just below his ear, and whispered words against his skin.
“This is what I want,” Steve says, licking a stripe along Danny’s jaw. “I want to take you to bed. I want to strip you to your skin, spread you out, and memorize every inch of you. I want to swallow you down and taste you when you come.” He bites Danny’s neck, a tiny bloom of pain, and Danny groans, pushing against it. He squirms again, trapped between Steve’s hand and his groin, his brain going hazy behind his eyes.
“What do you want, Danny? Tell me.” He squeezes Danny’s cock again and Danny’s breath hitches. He doesn’t want to come like this, standing here against the door, still in his clothes, unable to see Steve’s face. He wants Steve’s hands all over him, and his mouth, wants to feel Steve’s body pushing him into the mattress. He wants as much as he can get before they both come to their senses.
He turns his head, his cheek pressing against the door, straining to look at Steve. When Steve lifts his head, their lips are almost touching.
“I want to watch your face as you fuck me,” he whispers.
+++
“Really. I want to know.” Steve’s posture looked casual - arms crossed, fingers loosely wrapped around his coffee cup - but Danny knew it wasn’t. It was the same way Steve stood when confronting a suspect or glaring at a computer screen back at HQ. Quiet aggression. That was how Danny described it. It was arousing and terrifying at the same time. “I mean, this isn’t your first morning after, Danny. Just the first one with me. So that must mean I’m the problem. Only I’m a little confused here because as I remember it, you kissed me first. Which tells me you knew exactly what you were doing and who you were doing it with.” He narrowed his eyes a little. “But I guess things look a little different in the cold light of morning.” His eyes flicked to the window behind Danny, which, since it faced west, barely showed signs of dawn. He looked back at Danny. “So to speak.”
Danny waited for more, but it didn’t come. He felt hot and the back of his neck tingled. “What do you want me to say?” At least his voice sounded normal even if his heart rate wasn’t.
“The truth,” Steve said. A muscle worked beneath his stubbly jaw.
Danny snorted. “The truth,” he repeated under his breath. He turned around again. The curtains were still open from last night. Through the panoramic window, the ocean stretched endlessly towards the dark horizon. Walking over to the table, he set down his mug and carefully picked up his keys. They felt heavy in his hand as he squeezed his fingers around them, their teeth biting into his skin. He could feel Steve’s eyes on him.
“It is you,” he said softly. The adrenaline of his morning adventure was wearing off and he was suddenly very tired. His eyes felt scratchy when he closed them.
His words were greeted with silence.
When Danny turned around, Steve’s face had changed. The anger was gone from his eyes, replaced by something else, something unreadable, and his jaw had gone a bit slack. They were subtle changes; most people probably wouldn’t have noticed. But Danny wasn’t most people. “Steve. I didn’t mean…” He pushed out a breath. “You’re…my boss.” He suppressed a wince at the words. They sounded so cold, so clinical, even to him. And it wasn’t what he really wanted to say at all. But they were all he could manage at the moment.
Steve’s expression remained carefully neutral. Only the flex of his fingers around his mug betrayed him. “I see.”
“Steven-” Fuck.
“No, you’re right,” Steve said, nodding. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He moved then, setting down his cup and methodically stacking the dirty dishes with quick, efficient movements. Then he picked up the stack in one hand, wrapped the long fingers of his other hand around the necks of four empty beer bottles, and carried it all to the kitchen.
He didn’t look at Danny once.
Danny waited. When Steve didn’t come back out, Danny figured Steve was waiting for him to leave.
So he left.
+++
Steve kisses across the line of Danny’s collarbone and down his chest, hands smoothing along Danny’s skin, and Danny opens his legs wider to accommodate him, fingers closed in the sheets. His eyes are closed as he just goes with it, the heat of Steve’s mouth and the strength of his hands Danny’s only tethers to the world, the only things that matter.
Steve’s tongue dips briefly into Danny’s navel and he closes his hands around Danny’s hips and tugs, yanking Danny down the bed. Danny’s eyes fly open and he sees Steve looking at him, slow grin flashing in the dark before he dips his head and takes Danny in his mouth. Gasping, Danny watches open-mouthed as his cock slowly disappears between Steve’s lips, breath stuttering at the slide of Steve’s tongue.
It’s so fucking good, jesus christ, and Danny’s head falls heavily to the mattress. He feels overheated and boneless, like his brain is dribbling out of his ears. He reaches out, fingers finding the curve of Steve’s cheek, tracing down to where it hollows out, stubble rough against his fingertips. He presses the pad of his thumb to the corner of Steve’s mouth, feels the wet slide of his own cock, and grits his teeth to keep himself from thrusting down Steve’s throat.
Steve’s hands move then, one sliding across Danny’s belly to his chest, the other reaching down to cup Danny’s balls, rolling them gently against his palm. Danny groans at the touch, jerking slightly off the bed, and curves both hands around the back of Steve’s head. He looks down the length of his own body to watch himself being sucked, dizzy with arousal, the moonlight on their bodies making everything seem like a dream.
Then he’s coming and the scene shatters and he sinks back into the bed as his hands fall away, chest heaving. His eyes are half closed as he stares up at the ceiling catching his breath. He can still feel Steve’s mouth on him. He smiles, then grins, then starts to laugh.
Steve pulls off with an obscene sound. He presses a kiss to the skin right below Danny’s navel, then works his way slowly back up until he’s hovering over Danny, meeting his eyes in the darkness and smiling.
“What’s so funny?”
Danny shakes his head, then reaches up and pulls Steve down for a kiss, tasting himself on Steve’s tongue. He rolls them over on their sides, then loops his leg over Steve’s, pulling him closer. He breaks the kiss. “Rachel would’ve killed me if I came without warning her first,” he says, smiling.
Steve smiles, too. “I don’t mind,” he says. The hard length of his erection is pressed against Danny’s belly and he moves a little, breathing out at the friction. “If you’re able to think, I’m not doing it right.”
Danny works his hand between them, wrapping his fingers around Steve’s cock and giving it an experimental stroke, Steve’s eyes falling closed at the sensation. Danny strokes again as he kisses Steve’s mouth, tugging gently on his bottom lip with his teeth. “What part of me do you want?” he asks against Steve’s lips.
Steve opens his eyes, holding Danny’s gaze as he drags his hand across Danny’s damp skin, fingers lightly tracing along Danny’s crack before slipping inside. Danny’s body jerks at the press of Steve’s fingertip against his opening, his breath hitching. His hand closes tighter around Steve’s cock.
Steve grunts at the pressure and grins. “Just your hand,” he says, the tip of his finger pressing again, barely slipping inside. “For now.”
It doesn’t take long before he’s coming.
+++
The key was finally in the ignition, exactly where he had wanted it to be twenty minutes ago, but Danny couldn’t bring himself to turn it. He just sat there, his hands on the wheel as dawn broke slowly in his rearview mirror. Then he closed his eyes.
The silence grew heavy around him, pressing against his skin like water until he felt like he would drown in it. This was the part he hated, this whole painful awkwardness, the messy morning after with the weirdness and the still-fresh memories. But there was no avoiding it, was there? And there was no going back. He should’ve known better. But he’d let himself give in, he’d let down his guard, and now here he was in the middle of it and it was worse than he’d feared. Because now Steve was angry with him, and he was hurt, and Danny hadn’t meant for any of this to happen.
Steve was his best friend. There was no one he trusted more. Steve had shared his home with him, he watched Danny’s back, he loved Danny’s daughter, he-
Danny’s eyes flew open. Fuck. He remembered now, words whispered in the darkness. How could he have forgotten?
+++
“I’m gonna…gonna come,” Danny manages, surprised to find it’s true. But he doesn’t want Steve to stop, not really, not ever. And he doesn’t really want to come yet, either. He just wants to stay like this, skin to skin and Steve inside him, around him, everywhere at once, for as long he can. He’s just not sure how much longer he can stand it.
“Shh,” Steve whispers, pressing the sound into Danny’s open mouth. He slows down then, and Danny can feel every inch of him as he slides out, pushes in, over and over, agonizingly slow, just missing that spot inside that makes Danny shudder. He’s pulled Danny to the edge and is keeping him there, and Danny holds on, Steve’s skin hot and slick beneath his fingers. Heat drips down his spine, pooling in his belly, and he moans low in his throat when Steve draws Danny’s tongue into his mouth and sucks gently on it.
When Danny tries to slip his hand between their bodies and touch himself, Steve stops him with strong fingers around his wrist, pinning Danny’s arm to the bed. “Not yet,” Steve says against Danny’s lips. “Wait for me.” He starts thrusting harder then, hitting Danny’s sweet spot, pressing his lips to Danny’s cheek and making Danny shiver. Does it again. And again. Danny hitches his knees up, pressing them harder against Steve’s ribs, and they both groan at the new angle.
“Almost,” Steve whispers. “Alm…” The word dies on a breath. He laces their fingers together, sliding their combined hands up the sheets and pressing them into the pillow above Danny’s head. Danny sinks his other hand in Steve’s sweaty hair and turns his head, pressing the edges of his teeth into Steve’s jaw. He’s so close, so close, so-
He comes. The world goes fuzzy at the edges and he clutches at Steve, pressing his mouth against him, smoothing his tongue over stubble, tasting sweat. Steve tumbles over the edge a few seconds later, hips slowing, stuttering, stopping, sounds pushed into Danny’s temple, breath hot and fast against his skin.
Danny relaxes his legs, letting them fall to the bed, but keeps his hold on Steve. He likes the solid weight of him, the smell of his skin, the gradually slowing rhythm of his chest as he breathes against Danny. Danny feels fingers in his hair, nails scratching a gentle rhythm across his scalp, and closes his eyes.
He’s drifting in a haze of ebbing adrenaline when he feels Steve’s lips on his cheek, forming words he barely hears. He thinks they maybe sound like “I love you,” tries to make the sounds fit, but when Steve covers his mouth with his own and slips his tongue past Danny’s lips, Danny stops thinking completely.
+++
“When was the last time I ever did anything you told me to do?” Danny said when Steve opened the door for the second time that morning, forcing the words into the space between them before Steve had a chance to stop him.
Steve met Danny’s eyes with a look of cool detachment. “Excuse me?”
Danny repeated the question.
“You mean without arguing me to death first?” Steve huffed a breath. “Never.”
Danny’s hands were suddenly trembling and he could feel his heartbeat pounding inside his head. “Exactly.”
Steve just stared at him, narrowing his eyes a little. “Is there a point to this or are you having a stroke?”
Danny took a breath, pushed it out. He held Steve’s gaze unblinkingly. “My point, Steven, is that we’re a team, you and me. Equal partners. You’re only the boss because your name is listed first on the letterhead.”
“We don’t have letterhead.”
“It’s a metaphor, Commander Literal,” Danny said, shaking his head. “Subtlety is completely wasted on you, isn’t it?”
Seconds passed as Steve eyes scanned Danny’s face. “You know me. I’m a black and white kind of guy. Shoot first-”
“-worry about proper police procedure later. Believe me, I know.” Danny smirked. “I have the scars to prove it.”
“Just the one, Danny,” Steve said, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t get dramatic.”
“Who’s getting dramatic? There are scars you can’t see, you know.” Danny could see Steve’s pulse throbbing in his neck and suddenly remembered what it felt like against his tongue, how it raced when Danny touched him. “Sharing space with a well-armed lunatic can take its toll on a man’s emotional well-being after a while.”
“So can drowning in a bottomless sea of New Jersey word vomit on a daily basis,” Steve said. “But somehow I manage.”
Seconds of charged silence slid past. Danny barely breathed. He was in a holding pattern, waiting for the signal to land.
Then, “Just so we’re clear-” And there it was.
“We’re both idiots,” Danny said.
Steve smiled. “That’s what I thought.”
Danny returned the expression. “And I’m really glad I forgot my keys.”
Steve closed the space between them until he was so close, Danny could feel his body heat. He reached down and plucked the keys from Danny’s hand, letting their fingers tangle for a moment. Then he tossed the keys into the room behind him where they landed with a clatter, sliding across the hard wood floor before finally coming to a stop in parts unknown.
“What keys?” Steve asked, his dark eyes sparking.
Heat coiled in Danny’s belly as he held Steve’s gaze. Steve’s scrutiny was so intense, Danny wanted to crawl out of his skin. “So, uh.” He cleared his throat. “You gonna let me in or what?”
Steve looked him over once, then reached out and closed his hand in the front of Danny’s shirt. Once again, Danny felt himself being dragged inside. But this time, instead of leaving him standing alone in front of the door, Steve pushed Danny against it, pinning him there with his arms on either side of Danny’s head and his lips just inches away. Déjà vu all over again.
He skimmed Danny’s face before meeting his eyes. His fingertips brushed lightly across Danny’s cheek. “I thought I already had, Danno.”
Danny just smiled and kissed him.
Recipient: theellibu
Title: blame it on the ocean view
Pairings/Characters: Steve/Danny
Summary: Danny gives in, freaks out, and comes to his senses.
Rating: NC-17
Content: N/A
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 5,050
Disclaimer: All Hawaii Five-0 characters herein are the property of CBS. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters engaging in sexual activity are 16 years or older.
Author's Notes: My dear recipient, I did my best to include everything you asked for. If it misses the mark, blame Danny. Sometimes he just didn't want to cooperate. :)
Sure, Danny’s clothes were a little crumpled, but there could be any number of reasons for that, he figured, as he walked quickly through the well-appointed lobby of The Royal Hawaiian in the predawn hours of Saturday morning. Maybe he’d accidentally fallen asleep in them. Or maybe he just hated ironing. Or maybe he just hadn’t been to bed yet. Except if that were true, it would probably make more sense for him to be entering the hotel instead of leaving it. Whatever. The point was, there was absolutely no reason for anyone possibly watching to suspect that his clothes had just spent many of the last several hours in a heap on the floor of the luxuriously expensive Ali’i Suite after being peeled off by eager hands - only two of which were his own.
It wasn’t a walk of shame, exactly. It was more like a walk of shit-shit-shit, which was basically all Danny had been thinking since his eyes first focused and coherent thought slammed into his frontal lobe just a few minutes ago. And no, they were not the same thing. There was a fine but clear distinction, even if Danny was the only one to see it.
The humidity slapped him in the face as he stepped through the front doors, but he filled his lungs a couple times anyway, consciously ignoring the curious looks of the two valets - and who the hell needed valet service at 5AM on a Saturday, anyway? - watching him from their station through a cloud of cigarette smoke. He needed a few calming breaths, damn it. And some coffee. And maybe a time machine.
And his fucking car keys, he discovered a couple minutes later, as he stood next to his very locked car patting his very keyless pockets.
He stared gloomily at the tinted driver’s window. The empty seat mocked him from behind his reflection. He flipped it off.
+++
Danny whistles appreciatively at the expensive view framed in dusky pinks and purples, then turns to Steve. “Remind me again why you got to stay here and I didn’t.”
Steve plucks at the open collar of his designer dress shirt. “Because I’m the high roller, Danny.”
Danny rolls his eyes. “Please. Everything you know about poker you learned from me. Before I came along, you would’ve barely passed for a poker fish much less a shark.”
“Is that right?” Steve’s smiling that stupid smile of his that drives Danny absolutely crazy. And not in a manly I-want-to-punch-him-in-his-stupid-mouth way, either, but more like in an I-wonder-what-it-tastes-like way. Which? Damned distracting. But he is a grown up, and a Williams, which means he can repress with the best of them.
“That’s right, babe,” he says. “And then where would this case be, huh? Think about that.” He walks into the spacious living room, mostly to put some space between the two of them. The room was nearly bigger than the entirety of his old apartment, which, really? Not fair. Not fair at all. And that’s exactly why it should’ve been Danny staying here, to even the score for a few days if nothing else. Steve already has an ocean view. And a shower that works.
“Tell you what,” Steve says, walking up next to him and draping his arm loosely around Danny’s neck, totally wrecking Danny’s plan to impose stringent personal space boundaries. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? The suite’s already paid for and I’m kinda sick of it anyway. Besides, now that the case is solved, I can finally go home. Sleep in my own bed.”
Danny looks over at him, unable to stop his smile. “Does that include room service?”
Steve matches his smile. “Of course.”
“What about pay-per-view?”
Steve laughs, pulling Danny closer for a brief moment before releasing him. He points at Danny. “No porn, Danno.”
“Damn,” Danny says. “I was looking forward to seeing Debbie Does the Big Island.”
Steve walks in the direction of the master bedroom. “You’ll just have to settle for the bootleg version like the rest of us,” he says as he disappears.
Danny looks around again, then walks over to the luxurious sofa and sinks into it, propping his feet up on the coffee table. He can already feel the tension start to seep from his body. Who cares if he doesn’t even have a change of clothes? He’ll just lounge around in his complimentary bathrobe like Hugh Heffner and sleep naked like he did before Gracie learned to walk. Through the open patio doors he can hear the sound of the surf drowning out everything else.
He could totally get used to this.
+++
The valets smiled at him when he walked past them again. “Good morning, sir,” one of them said. Danny wished he had his gun.
The elevator dinged quietly as the doors slid open on the correct floor, but Danny didn’t step out. He just stood there as the doors shut again, continued standing there for several long moments, and then had no choice but to stand there as the elevator started moving again. It went up five floors and stopped, where a pretty young woman in a wrinkled blue dress and mussed hair got on, holding her shoes in her hand. She smiled at him a little, but didn’t meet his eyes, then turned her back and punched the lobby button, staring solemnly at her own disheveled reflection as the doors hissed shut.
Soul sister, Danny thought. He had the urge to fist bump her.
Reluctantly, he pushed the button for his floor and watched the numbers tick down one at a time, his stomach clenching tighter with each tick. When the doors dinged open again, he still didn’t move. The woman cast a questioning look over her shoulder at him. Danny smiled weakly. “Right. This is my floor.” Smooth.
The doors started sliding shut again and Danny stepped forward, catching one of them with his hand and forcing them back open. Stepping into the hall, he just stood there, looking in the direction of the Ali’i Suite and debating whether or not climbing down 16 flights of stairs would result in the need for a knee replacement. He just might be willing to risk it.
+++
Steve’s duffel - because high-stakes gamblers always pack their expensive suits in Navy issue duffel bags, of course they do - sits on the floor by the suite’s front door, waiting to be carried back to Steve’s house, while Steve himself leans back in his chair and takes a deep pull from his beer, peering at Danny over the end of the bottle. “I thought the plan was for you to stay and me to go home,” he says.
So it was. Obviously that hasn’t happened yet and Danny’s not sure why, really. Steve just sort of…never left. And Danny just sort of…let him. Not that Danny’s complaining. He’d rather have Steve here with him than downstairs schmoozing with a bunch of phony assholes with a provocatively clad Lori Weston hanging from his arm every goddamn second. Not that he’s jealous or anything. It’s just, well, it’s Lori, for fuck’s sake, and he doesn’t need Steve Irwin to tell him what he can see with his own two eyes - namely that Officer Weston, alpha female, has her pheromones aimed straight in alpha male McGarrett’s direction, trigger on full automatic.
And now he’s using assault weapon metaphors, god help him. It’s all Steve’s fault.
Repress, damn it. Repress, repress, repress.
He tips his head towards the door. “No one’s stopping you.” He takes a sip from his own beer and sets the bottle on the table, turning it slowly in his fingers.
Steve’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “No?” He shrugs. “Okay, then.” He stands up and Danny watches him walk to the door, watches him bend and pick up his bag, sees the flex of muscle in Steve’s forearm as he hefts it.
Danny stands up quickly, nearly knocking his chair over. His fingers close around the neck of his bottle. “Unless you want to stay and watch a movie,” he blurts, his mouth going dry. “Or something.” Holy hell. It’s like eighth grade all over again.
Steve’s eyes meet his. His duffel bag hits the floor.
+++
In the end, maturity won out and Danny walked the 42 steps - yes, he counted them, okay? - to the door of the suite and knocked. And didn’t hold his breath while he waited.
Alright, maybe he did, since it all came out in a rush when the door opened and Steve said, “Forget something?” He wasn’t smiling, either, which Danny probably should have expected, but it still kinda stabbed him in the gut anyway. Steve was wearing his…well, Danny didn’t know which face Steve was wearing, actually. It was one Danny hadn’t seen before, which was probably a bad sign.
He blushed. “My, uh, keys.” He shuffled his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked at Steve’s eyebrows, which were in the vicinity of his eyes and therefore counted as eye contact. “You didn’t happen to find them, did you?” He knew he was being an asshole but couldn’t seem to help himself. Besides, no one had ever accused him of being completely rational.
Steve just looked at him across the threshold. His hair was sticking up in a few different directions - whether from sleeping or from Danny’s hands Danny didn’t know. Probably both. He was also - very unhelpfully - shirtless, and even from two feet away, Danny could smell him. Steve hadn’t showered yet, which meant that he still smelled like…well, like Danny did. Danny hadn’t showered either, of course, not with Operation Holy Crap in full operational mode within 30 seconds of him waking up. He mentally shuddered at the memory of frantically searching the floor for his clothes in the dark. Frankly, he was surprised he hadn’t left anything else behind besides his keys. Although he seemed to be missing most of his backbone at the moment.
He looked out the window at the end of the hallway. The first gray fingers of dawn were just lighting the sky. It was officially morning. Officially the morning after. “Look, Steve. You think you could, uh-”
“For christ’s sake, Danny,” Steve said, exasperated. Fingers gripped Danny’s arm. “Get the fuck in here.”
+++
It happens just like this: They’re just standing there. Then Danny moves first, a few steps to close the space between them. There’s a puff of breath from Steve’s lips as his back hits the door. And then they’re kissing.
Steve’s hands are on him, fingers tugging at the tails of Danny’s shirt and sliding under, skin against skin, and Danny makes this little sound, this fucking little whine and slides his mouth away, breathing heavily against Steve’s neck. His hands are shaking and his erection is pressing against the fly of his pants and he just stands there concentrating on where Steve’s skin meets his, trying not to think about what the hell he’s doing or what it means or what the fuck is going to happen tomorrow.
“Danny. Maybe-”
“Shut up, Steven,” Danny whispers. He finds Steve’s buttons and starts working them open, letting his fingers trail lightly across each inch of newly exposed skin. He’s seen it all before, of course, but he’s never touched it, not with intent, and he wants to remember what it feels like. It’s already better than he thought it would be. And when he pushes Steve’s shirt aside and closes his mouth over a nipple, Steve’s reaction is just as good.
“Fuck,” Steve breathes, and threads his fingers through Danny’s hair, fingertips pressing into the back of Danny’s head.
Danny’s hands find Steve’s hips and hold on.
+++
The door closed behind him before Danny even had a chance to protest. Steve left him standing there and disappeared around the corner. With so much space between them, Danny found he could breathe again, though he still felt jittery inside his skin, like it didn’t quite fit. He couldn’t see the bed from here, but the doorway itself was enough of a reminder. Ground Zero.
“Your keys are on the dining table,” Steve said, suddenly standing right in front of him again. He was holding two steaming mugs and held one out to Danny. “Where you left them. Last night.” The words were pointed, but Danny was still trying to process how it was possible that he hadn’t even noticed he’d been standing in the same spot long enough for Steve to make coffee. And get dressed - a detail that his brain suddenly registered with a brief pang of regret.
Danny took the offered mug and laughed nervously. “How ’bout that.” He walked a large loop around Steve and into the living room to avoid touching him. The dining table was littered with beer bottles and dirty room service dishes. Crime scene evidence, Danny thought grimly. On the far end of the table next to the wilting centerpiece were Danny’s keys.
He eyed them as he took a big sip of coffee. His fingers itched to grab them and escape as quickly as possible and he would, except that Steve was standing just a few feet behind him and the weight of his gaze was holding Danny in place. The silence dragged on as he took another sip.
“Is it the sex in general or the fact that it was with me that has you freaking out?”
Danny spluttered around his mouthful of coffee, choking on half and barely managing to catch the rest in his cup. He dragged his hand across his mouth as he spun to look at Steve. Steve’s face was perfectly calm, but his eyes belied his expression. He was angry.
“Uh,” was all Danny could say.
+++
Steve moves so quickly, it takes Danny a second to even piece together what happened until the still-functioning part of his brain kicks in and he finds himself pinned chest first against the door, hands above his head, Steve’s body pressed against his back. Steve’s hands are opening Danny’s buttons from behind and Danny can feel the hard line of Steve’s arousal against his ass. He tries to push against it, but Steve holds him in place, and Danny huffs out a breath of frustration.
“You have no idea,” Steve says, his rough voice pressing the words into Danny’s ear.
He doesn’t say anything else and Danny doesn’t have the chance to even wonder about it before Steve’s hand cups Danny’s erection and squeezes. Danny jerks his hips, his head falling against the door with a thump, reality reducing down to that single point of contact.
He wants to push forward into the heat of Steve’s hand, needs more friction, but Steve holds him still, his other hand flat against Danny’s chest, fingertips working a nipple, sending spikes of sensation straight to Danny’s cock. There are teeth on his neck, just below his ear, and whispered words against his skin.
“This is what I want,” Steve says, licking a stripe along Danny’s jaw. “I want to take you to bed. I want to strip you to your skin, spread you out, and memorize every inch of you. I want to swallow you down and taste you when you come.” He bites Danny’s neck, a tiny bloom of pain, and Danny groans, pushing against it. He squirms again, trapped between Steve’s hand and his groin, his brain going hazy behind his eyes.
“What do you want, Danny? Tell me.” He squeezes Danny’s cock again and Danny’s breath hitches. He doesn’t want to come like this, standing here against the door, still in his clothes, unable to see Steve’s face. He wants Steve’s hands all over him, and his mouth, wants to feel Steve’s body pushing him into the mattress. He wants as much as he can get before they both come to their senses.
He turns his head, his cheek pressing against the door, straining to look at Steve. When Steve lifts his head, their lips are almost touching.
“I want to watch your face as you fuck me,” he whispers.
+++
“Really. I want to know.” Steve’s posture looked casual - arms crossed, fingers loosely wrapped around his coffee cup - but Danny knew it wasn’t. It was the same way Steve stood when confronting a suspect or glaring at a computer screen back at HQ. Quiet aggression. That was how Danny described it. It was arousing and terrifying at the same time. “I mean, this isn’t your first morning after, Danny. Just the first one with me. So that must mean I’m the problem. Only I’m a little confused here because as I remember it, you kissed me first. Which tells me you knew exactly what you were doing and who you were doing it with.” He narrowed his eyes a little. “But I guess things look a little different in the cold light of morning.” His eyes flicked to the window behind Danny, which, since it faced west, barely showed signs of dawn. He looked back at Danny. “So to speak.”
Danny waited for more, but it didn’t come. He felt hot and the back of his neck tingled. “What do you want me to say?” At least his voice sounded normal even if his heart rate wasn’t.
“The truth,” Steve said. A muscle worked beneath his stubbly jaw.
Danny snorted. “The truth,” he repeated under his breath. He turned around again. The curtains were still open from last night. Through the panoramic window, the ocean stretched endlessly towards the dark horizon. Walking over to the table, he set down his mug and carefully picked up his keys. They felt heavy in his hand as he squeezed his fingers around them, their teeth biting into his skin. He could feel Steve’s eyes on him.
“It is you,” he said softly. The adrenaline of his morning adventure was wearing off and he was suddenly very tired. His eyes felt scratchy when he closed them.
His words were greeted with silence.
When Danny turned around, Steve’s face had changed. The anger was gone from his eyes, replaced by something else, something unreadable, and his jaw had gone a bit slack. They were subtle changes; most people probably wouldn’t have noticed. But Danny wasn’t most people. “Steve. I didn’t mean…” He pushed out a breath. “You’re…my boss.” He suppressed a wince at the words. They sounded so cold, so clinical, even to him. And it wasn’t what he really wanted to say at all. But they were all he could manage at the moment.
Steve’s expression remained carefully neutral. Only the flex of his fingers around his mug betrayed him. “I see.”
“Steven-” Fuck.
“No, you’re right,” Steve said, nodding. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He moved then, setting down his cup and methodically stacking the dirty dishes with quick, efficient movements. Then he picked up the stack in one hand, wrapped the long fingers of his other hand around the necks of four empty beer bottles, and carried it all to the kitchen.
He didn’t look at Danny once.
Danny waited. When Steve didn’t come back out, Danny figured Steve was waiting for him to leave.
So he left.
+++
Steve kisses across the line of Danny’s collarbone and down his chest, hands smoothing along Danny’s skin, and Danny opens his legs wider to accommodate him, fingers closed in the sheets. His eyes are closed as he just goes with it, the heat of Steve’s mouth and the strength of his hands Danny’s only tethers to the world, the only things that matter.
Steve’s tongue dips briefly into Danny’s navel and he closes his hands around Danny’s hips and tugs, yanking Danny down the bed. Danny’s eyes fly open and he sees Steve looking at him, slow grin flashing in the dark before he dips his head and takes Danny in his mouth. Gasping, Danny watches open-mouthed as his cock slowly disappears between Steve’s lips, breath stuttering at the slide of Steve’s tongue.
It’s so fucking good, jesus christ, and Danny’s head falls heavily to the mattress. He feels overheated and boneless, like his brain is dribbling out of his ears. He reaches out, fingers finding the curve of Steve’s cheek, tracing down to where it hollows out, stubble rough against his fingertips. He presses the pad of his thumb to the corner of Steve’s mouth, feels the wet slide of his own cock, and grits his teeth to keep himself from thrusting down Steve’s throat.
Steve’s hands move then, one sliding across Danny’s belly to his chest, the other reaching down to cup Danny’s balls, rolling them gently against his palm. Danny groans at the touch, jerking slightly off the bed, and curves both hands around the back of Steve’s head. He looks down the length of his own body to watch himself being sucked, dizzy with arousal, the moonlight on their bodies making everything seem like a dream.
Then he’s coming and the scene shatters and he sinks back into the bed as his hands fall away, chest heaving. His eyes are half closed as he stares up at the ceiling catching his breath. He can still feel Steve’s mouth on him. He smiles, then grins, then starts to laugh.
Steve pulls off with an obscene sound. He presses a kiss to the skin right below Danny’s navel, then works his way slowly back up until he’s hovering over Danny, meeting his eyes in the darkness and smiling.
“What’s so funny?”
Danny shakes his head, then reaches up and pulls Steve down for a kiss, tasting himself on Steve’s tongue. He rolls them over on their sides, then loops his leg over Steve’s, pulling him closer. He breaks the kiss. “Rachel would’ve killed me if I came without warning her first,” he says, smiling.
Steve smiles, too. “I don’t mind,” he says. The hard length of his erection is pressed against Danny’s belly and he moves a little, breathing out at the friction. “If you’re able to think, I’m not doing it right.”
Danny works his hand between them, wrapping his fingers around Steve’s cock and giving it an experimental stroke, Steve’s eyes falling closed at the sensation. Danny strokes again as he kisses Steve’s mouth, tugging gently on his bottom lip with his teeth. “What part of me do you want?” he asks against Steve’s lips.
Steve opens his eyes, holding Danny’s gaze as he drags his hand across Danny’s damp skin, fingers lightly tracing along Danny’s crack before slipping inside. Danny’s body jerks at the press of Steve’s fingertip against his opening, his breath hitching. His hand closes tighter around Steve’s cock.
Steve grunts at the pressure and grins. “Just your hand,” he says, the tip of his finger pressing again, barely slipping inside. “For now.”
It doesn’t take long before he’s coming.
+++
The key was finally in the ignition, exactly where he had wanted it to be twenty minutes ago, but Danny couldn’t bring himself to turn it. He just sat there, his hands on the wheel as dawn broke slowly in his rearview mirror. Then he closed his eyes.
The silence grew heavy around him, pressing against his skin like water until he felt like he would drown in it. This was the part he hated, this whole painful awkwardness, the messy morning after with the weirdness and the still-fresh memories. But there was no avoiding it, was there? And there was no going back. He should’ve known better. But he’d let himself give in, he’d let down his guard, and now here he was in the middle of it and it was worse than he’d feared. Because now Steve was angry with him, and he was hurt, and Danny hadn’t meant for any of this to happen.
Steve was his best friend. There was no one he trusted more. Steve had shared his home with him, he watched Danny’s back, he loved Danny’s daughter, he-
Danny’s eyes flew open. Fuck. He remembered now, words whispered in the darkness. How could he have forgotten?
+++
“I’m gonna…gonna come,” Danny manages, surprised to find it’s true. But he doesn’t want Steve to stop, not really, not ever. And he doesn’t really want to come yet, either. He just wants to stay like this, skin to skin and Steve inside him, around him, everywhere at once, for as long he can. He’s just not sure how much longer he can stand it.
“Shh,” Steve whispers, pressing the sound into Danny’s open mouth. He slows down then, and Danny can feel every inch of him as he slides out, pushes in, over and over, agonizingly slow, just missing that spot inside that makes Danny shudder. He’s pulled Danny to the edge and is keeping him there, and Danny holds on, Steve’s skin hot and slick beneath his fingers. Heat drips down his spine, pooling in his belly, and he moans low in his throat when Steve draws Danny’s tongue into his mouth and sucks gently on it.
When Danny tries to slip his hand between their bodies and touch himself, Steve stops him with strong fingers around his wrist, pinning Danny’s arm to the bed. “Not yet,” Steve says against Danny’s lips. “Wait for me.” He starts thrusting harder then, hitting Danny’s sweet spot, pressing his lips to Danny’s cheek and making Danny shiver. Does it again. And again. Danny hitches his knees up, pressing them harder against Steve’s ribs, and they both groan at the new angle.
“Almost,” Steve whispers. “Alm…” The word dies on a breath. He laces their fingers together, sliding their combined hands up the sheets and pressing them into the pillow above Danny’s head. Danny sinks his other hand in Steve’s sweaty hair and turns his head, pressing the edges of his teeth into Steve’s jaw. He’s so close, so close, so-
He comes. The world goes fuzzy at the edges and he clutches at Steve, pressing his mouth against him, smoothing his tongue over stubble, tasting sweat. Steve tumbles over the edge a few seconds later, hips slowing, stuttering, stopping, sounds pushed into Danny’s temple, breath hot and fast against his skin.
Danny relaxes his legs, letting them fall to the bed, but keeps his hold on Steve. He likes the solid weight of him, the smell of his skin, the gradually slowing rhythm of his chest as he breathes against Danny. Danny feels fingers in his hair, nails scratching a gentle rhythm across his scalp, and closes his eyes.
He’s drifting in a haze of ebbing adrenaline when he feels Steve’s lips on his cheek, forming words he barely hears. He thinks they maybe sound like “I love you,” tries to make the sounds fit, but when Steve covers his mouth with his own and slips his tongue past Danny’s lips, Danny stops thinking completely.
+++
“When was the last time I ever did anything you told me to do?” Danny said when Steve opened the door for the second time that morning, forcing the words into the space between them before Steve had a chance to stop him.
Steve met Danny’s eyes with a look of cool detachment. “Excuse me?”
Danny repeated the question.
“You mean without arguing me to death first?” Steve huffed a breath. “Never.”
Danny’s hands were suddenly trembling and he could feel his heartbeat pounding inside his head. “Exactly.”
Steve just stared at him, narrowing his eyes a little. “Is there a point to this or are you having a stroke?”
Danny took a breath, pushed it out. He held Steve’s gaze unblinkingly. “My point, Steven, is that we’re a team, you and me. Equal partners. You’re only the boss because your name is listed first on the letterhead.”
“We don’t have letterhead.”
“It’s a metaphor, Commander Literal,” Danny said, shaking his head. “Subtlety is completely wasted on you, isn’t it?”
Seconds passed as Steve eyes scanned Danny’s face. “You know me. I’m a black and white kind of guy. Shoot first-”
“-worry about proper police procedure later. Believe me, I know.” Danny smirked. “I have the scars to prove it.”
“Just the one, Danny,” Steve said, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t get dramatic.”
“Who’s getting dramatic? There are scars you can’t see, you know.” Danny could see Steve’s pulse throbbing in his neck and suddenly remembered what it felt like against his tongue, how it raced when Danny touched him. “Sharing space with a well-armed lunatic can take its toll on a man’s emotional well-being after a while.”
“So can drowning in a bottomless sea of New Jersey word vomit on a daily basis,” Steve said. “But somehow I manage.”
Seconds of charged silence slid past. Danny barely breathed. He was in a holding pattern, waiting for the signal to land.
Then, “Just so we’re clear-” And there it was.
“We’re both idiots,” Danny said.
Steve smiled. “That’s what I thought.”
Danny returned the expression. “And I’m really glad I forgot my keys.”
Steve closed the space between them until he was so close, Danny could feel his body heat. He reached down and plucked the keys from Danny’s hand, letting their fingers tangle for a moment. Then he tossed the keys into the room behind him where they landed with a clatter, sliding across the hard wood floor before finally coming to a stop in parts unknown.
“What keys?” Steve asked, his dark eyes sparking.
Heat coiled in Danny’s belly as he held Steve’s gaze. Steve’s scrutiny was so intense, Danny wanted to crawl out of his skin. “So, uh.” He cleared his throat. “You gonna let me in or what?”
Steve looked him over once, then reached out and closed his hand in the front of Danny’s shirt. Once again, Danny felt himself being dragged inside. But this time, instead of leaving him standing alone in front of the door, Steve pushed Danny against it, pinning him there with his arms on either side of Danny’s head and his lips just inches away. Déjà vu all over again.
He skimmed Danny’s face before meeting his eyes. His fingertips brushed lightly across Danny’s cheek. “I thought I already had, Danno.”
Danny just smiled and kissed him.