Hawaii50, Steve/Danny, R.
Title: Instrumental.
Paring/s: Steve/Danny
Genre: Romance.
Rating; R
Warnings/Spoilers: None.
Summary: Danny’s tie has hit the floor, his hair’s a mess, and he’s belly laughing his way through Springsteen’s Born In The USA.
AN: A very short snippet of nothing in particular.
Steve’s had a bad month and too many beers and he’s sitting in a karaoke bar listening to Danny sing. The worst part though - barring the fact he hasn’t slept in 36 hours - is that Steve is actually enjoying it. Danny’s tie has hit the floor, his hair’s a mess, and he’s belly laughing his way through Springsteen’s Born In The USA.
“Tell me one of you is filming this,” he calls across the table to Kono and Chin, gaze fixed on his partner.
“On it, boss,” Kono assures, pointing her phone at Danny like it’s an improvised weapon.
“I think he’ll have enough headache in the morning, without this getting around the office,” Chin offers reasonably, “Don’t you?”
Steve isn’t listening and right now, Danny doesn’t mind. He’s belting out the last few lines, head thrown back and revelling in all the hoots and whistles from the crowd. He sounds god-awful, but Steve hears other things. He hears all the stress and tension and anger and fear - this week alone - breaking out and moving on and giving Danny peace.
When Danny gets back to the table he’s loose, and light around the eyes, but he’s him again, no more performing. “What?” he says to Steve as he sits, their knees catching and caught.
“Nothing.” Steve watches on as Danny takes a pull from his beer, mouth thick and obscene around the top.
“You can laugh,” he says as he glares over to the others, both hunkered over Kono’s phone and plotting. “I’m the one who had the cojones to get up there and rock ‘til I can’t rock no more. That takes courage - ”
“And beer.”
“And bite me, McGarrett.”
“I’m not laughing,” Steve finally says, watching Danny who watches right back. On stage, someone starts slaughtering My Heart Will Go On, but they don’t stop to notice.
Danny squints at him.
“That’s right, you’re not. You’re … what are you right now?”
“You should know,” Steve says around a smirk. “You’ve seen it before.”
“Well, it does look a lot like Let’s Fuck Some Place Illegal but I know it can’t be …” Danny’s voice trails off while his eyes trail up every angle of Steve, reading him. “You can’t be serious; you can’t actually be serious, karaoke? I can sing so far out of tune it makes Paris Hilton cringe and you still want to fuck? That is amazing, truly, something else.”
“I’ve wanted you for worse things,” Steve says with a shrug, absently palming his semi-serious dick. Danny’s eyes track that, too.
“What? Tell me.”
“I’d rather go home and take you to bed.”
“Bed? Really? I was expecting an alley or the beach or across your office desk with your pens jabbing me in the back, something comfortable.”
“That was one time.”
“And I’ll live with it forever. Literally. There are scars.” Danny twists awkwardly from the hips, an attempt to pull the bottom of his shirt up and prove his point. Steve grabs him, hard, by the knee, leans in real close, “Just wanna be alone with you,” which quiets Danny, and he hurries with his beer, his tie, and throws some notes on the table.
“Behave, boss,” Kono says with a wink, and Chin teases,
“You too, The Boss,” while Kono groans.
*
At Steve’s place, they’re slow and steady to the door. Steve’s fiddling with his keys and Danny’s kissing at Steve’s throat and it’s not erratic or needy or hot. It’s sure and wanting and warm. Work’s crazy, and maybe they’re crazy, but this isn’t. Danny’s the sanest thing he’s ever done.
“This is nice,” Steve says, once they’re inside, once he has Danny pressed against a wall.
“Nice?” Danny says with an exaggerated blink. He has an untied tie, and an open shirt, and Steve’s black tee tucked into his pocket. “This is nice? You know what’s not nice, the word nice. You say nice when you really mean quaint or plain. You say nice when your aunt knits you a sweater.”
Steve just laughs, takes Danny’s mouth in his own, again, shuts him up. They kiss into a frenzied haze to Danny’s shirt on the floor and their pants around their knees. Steve has spots behind his eyelids and Danny’s hand around their dicks and he’s trying so damn hard not to fuck them through the wall, the floor, the earth.
“Why weren’t you laughing,” Danny asks around the wet slip of Steve’s mouth, through the hot, quickening beat of Steve’s breath.
“Just, good,” Steve says, because all he has is Danny’s shoulders in his hands and Danny’s fist pumping at him and Danny, in his chest and belly and legs, Danny. It’s not a time to talk, but Danny’s all words, all the time, so Steve says,
“So good, when you’re with me.”
Danny makes a deep, important sound and works harder, Steve pushes in, and of all the tunes Danny has carried, dropped or lost, Steve’s just glad he paused right here.
Paring/s: Steve/Danny
Genre: Romance.
Rating; R
Warnings/Spoilers: None.
Summary: Danny’s tie has hit the floor, his hair’s a mess, and he’s belly laughing his way through Springsteen’s Born In The USA.
AN: A very short snippet of nothing in particular.
Steve’s had a bad month and too many beers and he’s sitting in a karaoke bar listening to Danny sing. The worst part though - barring the fact he hasn’t slept in 36 hours - is that Steve is actually enjoying it. Danny’s tie has hit the floor, his hair’s a mess, and he’s belly laughing his way through Springsteen’s Born In The USA.
“Tell me one of you is filming this,” he calls across the table to Kono and Chin, gaze fixed on his partner.
“On it, boss,” Kono assures, pointing her phone at Danny like it’s an improvised weapon.
“I think he’ll have enough headache in the morning, without this getting around the office,” Chin offers reasonably, “Don’t you?”
Steve isn’t listening and right now, Danny doesn’t mind. He’s belting out the last few lines, head thrown back and revelling in all the hoots and whistles from the crowd. He sounds god-awful, but Steve hears other things. He hears all the stress and tension and anger and fear - this week alone - breaking out and moving on and giving Danny peace.
When Danny gets back to the table he’s loose, and light around the eyes, but he’s him again, no more performing. “What?” he says to Steve as he sits, their knees catching and caught.
“Nothing.” Steve watches on as Danny takes a pull from his beer, mouth thick and obscene around the top.
“You can laugh,” he says as he glares over to the others, both hunkered over Kono’s phone and plotting. “I’m the one who had the cojones to get up there and rock ‘til I can’t rock no more. That takes courage - ”
“And beer.”
“And bite me, McGarrett.”
“I’m not laughing,” Steve finally says, watching Danny who watches right back. On stage, someone starts slaughtering My Heart Will Go On, but they don’t stop to notice.
Danny squints at him.
“That’s right, you’re not. You’re … what are you right now?”
“You should know,” Steve says around a smirk. “You’ve seen it before.”
“Well, it does look a lot like Let’s Fuck Some Place Illegal but I know it can’t be …” Danny’s voice trails off while his eyes trail up every angle of Steve, reading him. “You can’t be serious; you can’t actually be serious, karaoke? I can sing so far out of tune it makes Paris Hilton cringe and you still want to fuck? That is amazing, truly, something else.”
“I’ve wanted you for worse things,” Steve says with a shrug, absently palming his semi-serious dick. Danny’s eyes track that, too.
“What? Tell me.”
“I’d rather go home and take you to bed.”
“Bed? Really? I was expecting an alley or the beach or across your office desk with your pens jabbing me in the back, something comfortable.”
“That was one time.”
“And I’ll live with it forever. Literally. There are scars.” Danny twists awkwardly from the hips, an attempt to pull the bottom of his shirt up and prove his point. Steve grabs him, hard, by the knee, leans in real close, “Just wanna be alone with you,” which quiets Danny, and he hurries with his beer, his tie, and throws some notes on the table.
“Behave, boss,” Kono says with a wink, and Chin teases,
“You too, The Boss,” while Kono groans.
*
At Steve’s place, they’re slow and steady to the door. Steve’s fiddling with his keys and Danny’s kissing at Steve’s throat and it’s not erratic or needy or hot. It’s sure and wanting and warm. Work’s crazy, and maybe they’re crazy, but this isn’t. Danny’s the sanest thing he’s ever done.
“This is nice,” Steve says, once they’re inside, once he has Danny pressed against a wall.
“Nice?” Danny says with an exaggerated blink. He has an untied tie, and an open shirt, and Steve’s black tee tucked into his pocket. “This is nice? You know what’s not nice, the word nice. You say nice when you really mean quaint or plain. You say nice when your aunt knits you a sweater.”
Steve just laughs, takes Danny’s mouth in his own, again, shuts him up. They kiss into a frenzied haze to Danny’s shirt on the floor and their pants around their knees. Steve has spots behind his eyelids and Danny’s hand around their dicks and he’s trying so damn hard not to fuck them through the wall, the floor, the earth.
“Why weren’t you laughing,” Danny asks around the wet slip of Steve’s mouth, through the hot, quickening beat of Steve’s breath.
“Just, good,” Steve says, because all he has is Danny’s shoulders in his hands and Danny’s fist pumping at him and Danny, in his chest and belly and legs, Danny. It’s not a time to talk, but Danny’s all words, all the time, so Steve says,
“So good, when you’re with me.”
Danny makes a deep, important sound and works harder, Steve pushes in, and of all the tunes Danny has carried, dropped or lost, Steve’s just glad he paused right here.