H50 fic
Title: Needless to say I’m right there with you
Rating: NC-17 (for sexy times)
Pairing: Steve/Danno
Summary: Episode coda for 1x09 'Po'ipu'. Danny takes care of Steve after the whole Nick-fiasco. Things come to a head (yay me with the double entendre).
Spoilers: major one for 1x09 and some minor ones for a number of other eps
Author’s note: Takes place right after Steve kills Nick. I’ve been wanting to write this every time I watched the episode. So much so that I, in fact, convinced myself that it actually happened and they just cut out the scenes. Also this is the first time I’ve ever written sex. So if it sucks feel free to tell me so. Or let me know if you enjoyed the sexy times. I’m good either way. Also there’s a POV change midway through - don’t freak. This was betad by the wonderful riverotter1951, who I’m beginning to think is a goddess in disguise. Any remaining errors are my own.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them and they still haunt my imagination 24/7. No money either. Go figure.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Danny says heading for the ambulance that arrived with the backup from HPD. Steve whose been following him up from the seashore stops dead in his tracks.
“I don’t need to be examined,” he says like he isn’t just pressing his hand to a knife wound that bleeds profusely. Sometimes Danny just wants to hit him over the head with a shovel.
“You need your head examined,” he mutters and keeps moving because nine times out of ten Steve will follow him automatically. Steve trails after him. Bingo.
“I really don’t see why this is necessary. I can stitch it up myself,” he says stubbornly. There are moments when dealing with Steve is exactly like being a father. You rant and rave and hope that something will stick. More times than not your kid will listen but still do the exact opposite of what you say. You just have to keep repeating yourself and learn to choose your battles. This is one of the times he’s going to put his foot down.
“You’re not bleeding all over my apartment,” he states, turning to Steve and pushing him firmly into the back of the ambulance. He waves a paramedic over and points at Steve in the universal gesture of ‘get to work’. Steve looks up at him, while the EMT fusses over him.
“Your apartment? What would I be doing at your apartment?”
For a former naval intelligence officer Steve can be really, really dense sometimes.
“Well, I don’t know. Sleep maybe.”
“No way. I’m staying here.”
Danny stares at Steve like he’s grown a second head. He waves at the house.
“I don’t know whether you noticed, but your house looks like a freaking Swiss cheese right now. There are HPD officers crawling all over the place as we speak and I am pretty sure we left multiple - as in more than one - bodies scattered around. It’s late and there is no way, let me repeat that, absolutely no way that you can sleep here tonight.”
“I’m not staying over at your crappy excuse of an apartment,” Steve insists mulishly. “I’m pretty sure I can crash on Chin’s couch.”
It’s like he doesn’t even realize he’s just send Kono and Chin away on some bogus task and very explicitly did not tell Danny to leg it, because he’s been through something awful and needed someone at his side. Like he doesn’t realize he chose Danny to be that someone. He probably doesn’t. Steve can be pretty damn unobservant when it comes to anything interpersonal. Clearly Danny needs to spell some stuff out here.
“Look, I realize that you have to give the army props for mass producing robots that look exactly like humans. I mean, seriously, whoever spray painted the McGarrobot did one hell of a job. Well done. But I for one do not operate well on lack of sleep and barely surviving gunfights, so I am going home to catch up on some shut-eye before the next wave of super-baddies hits the island. And you are coming with because you are clearly incapable of making rational decisions and I am not going to be responsible for whatever shenanigans you’ll get up to ‘til sunrise. Understood?”
Steve looks like he’s about to argue some more, but all he comes up with is: “I was in the Navy, Danno. The Navy.”
He also throws a long-suffering look at the paramedic that can only be interpreted as ‘do you see what I’ve got to endure all day’. To his credit the guy ignores Steve completely. Being trained to be efficient in the face of catastrophes probably helps when dealing professionally with lunatics like Steve.
“You don’t even have a couch,” Steve states triumphantly, like he just won the argument.
“We can share the bed. I share the bed with Gracie.”
“I’m not Gracie.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Danny says with all the sarcasm he can muster. “I thought you Navy Seal guys could sleep anywhere. Though it out.”
“There are jungles out there that are more homely than your apartment,” Steve mutters, but there is something in the way he almost smiles at Danny that tells him Steve is going to give in.
He’s more relieved than he has any right to be, but he’s also too damn worn out to examine his feelings more closely. He’s coming down from the adrenaline high rapidly and can’t even guarantee he won’t crash right here. The fact that he doesn’t even get a little bit excited at the thought of sharing a bed with Steve attests to how much the events of the night have taken their toll on him.
“Great!” He says. “Now that that’s settled, grab your stuff and get into the car. If I don’t hit the sack soon there’s gonna be some more bloodshed.”
…
Danny nearly breaks into song when he finally opens the door to his apartment. He’s so close he can almost feel his bed.
“Home, sweet home.” He mutters and pauses when Steve doesn’t use this opportunity to take a cheap shot at his living arrangements. Steve’s been too quiet on the way over. Slouching back in his seat all silent and sullen. Now he’s standing too close. Danny’s always hyper-aware of Steve’s presence. There’s something about the man that’s just hard to ignore. But right now Steve’s almost crowding him. Danny turns around to give his partner the once over.
“You okay?” He asks. “You don’t look so hot.” Which is a lie. Looking hot is pretty much Steve’s default state of being.
“I’m fine, Danno,” Steve insists, walking past him and hitting the light switch on his way in. He’s in stoic Seal mode and apparently the accusation of harboring some actual human feelings isn’t welcome. Danny closes the door behind them and catches Steve’s arm, pulling him back. It’s a testament as to how not fine Steve is that he let’s himself be manhandled willingly. He only ever gets this close to Danny when he unconsciously needs some comfort. Or when he’s… well… flirting. But Danny’s not going there. Steve is a moron who clearly needs to have everything spelt out.
“You’re not fine!” He declares gesturing at the assortment of cuts and bruises on his partner’s arms and face. “God, look at you.”
He blames lack of sleep and being shot at by scary ex-military people with guns for what he does next. He reaches out and gently touches the spot right above the cut on Steve’s eyebrow, slowly rubbing his thumb over Steve’s temple. It’s designed as a gesture of comfort. Or maybe he’s just trying to reassure himself. Sometimes he worries about Steve almost as much as he does about Gracie. Either way, Steve is leaning into the touch and Danny can’t quite bring himself to stop. This is getting way too intimate fast. Steve looks at him funny.
“You gonna kiss it better,” he asks, voice low and husky.
And, yeah, Danny’s pretty much known this may be on the table for a while now. They’ve never taken it this far before. Mostly, Danny suspects, because they both don’t wanna fuck with what they have going. Yet, while his brain recognizes this to be a monumentally stupid idea his impulse control clearly sucks ass, because as Steve is leaning down he is leaning up and before he can over-think his actions he’s already in too deep - kissing his boss. Steve’s lips are warm and inviting and Danny may just have found his new favorite taste. His tongue takes an interest and Steve is right there with him. Opening up under him and bringing his tongue out to play. He delves in deeper and enjoys the press of Steve’s hard body against him.
Steve groans and grips his upper arms tightly. He bites at Danny’s lips and sucks at his tongue enthusiastically. Danny is so aroused he can’t think straight anymore. His hand still rests on the side of Steve’s face and he uses it to pull Steve’s head farther down. He must have touched Steve’s cut because the other man winces slightly. Suddenly it all comes back to Danny. The apocalypse that went down at the McGarrett home tonight and the fact that Steve actually had to fight for his life earlier. He didn’t have any of this in mind when he offered his partner a place to crash. It feels too much like taking advantage.
“Stop!” He mumbles against Steve’s lips and forces himself to take a step back. Steve looks confused and hurt like he thinks Danny might not want this. And that is just absurd. Steve may be many things - aggravating being right on top of that list - but he sure as hell doesn’t do uncertain. Also it’s not as if there are a whole lot of conceivable scenarios were Danny - or most other human beings, for that matter - would not happily agree to a game of tongue-hockey with one ex-Navy Seal by the name of Steve McGarrett.
“Look, you’re not in a good place right now,” he explains quickly, gesticulating wildly with his arms to indicate the sheer fucked-upness that is having to kill someone you thought of as a friend at the climax of a freaking hand-to-hand knife fight. Now Steve looks at him as if to say ‘you are adorable’. As if he thinks Danny is being oversensitive again. Danny feels light-headed and stupid and not in the right frame of mind to deal with McGarrett and the fact that he is emotionally stunted.
Steve doesn’t give him a moment to pull his shit together, anyways. No surprise there. He takes Danny’s face in both hands, which is awkward and heartbreaking at the same time and proceeds to kiss him in a way that is designed to force any remaining brain cell into capitulation. Danny really, really hopes Steve hasn’t been taught this move by the Navy, because it’s effective as hell. The way it turns him into a shivering pile of goo is frankly embarrassing. And then Steve rasps, “I’m in a very good place right now,” into the side of Danny’s neck. His voice hoarse and filthy and ever so slightly out of breath as if he’s not completely unaffected by this either. And Danny can’t be held accountable for his actions anymore. He pushes back, reclaims Steve’s mouth and is distantly pleased at the way he manages to maneuver them to the bed. They tumble down on it in a graceless heap. Neither one of them willing to let go.
“Off. Off,” Steve mutters tugging at his tie.
Danny chuckles and tries to swat his hands away, but gets distracted by the feel of Steve’s abs under his hands. It gets even better when he dispatches Steve’s stupid shirt. Steve makes desperate impatient noises into his mouth. It’s the most erotic thing Danny’s ever heard. He breaks the kiss and bites his lips to stop himself from going back for more. Leaning back he quickly gets rid of his tie and shirt. Steve struggles out of his pants and Danny hurries to follow suit. As soon as they are both stark naked - and that thought should really freak Danny out a lot more than it actually does - Steve is on him again. He pulls Danny down with him and Danny could get used to the feeling of falling into bed with Steve.
It’s hot and messy. A heady mix of groping and licking and very little finesse. Danny has a flashback to when he was sixteen, making out with Libby Steward in his parents’ basement. His bedsprings creak loudly as if to add to the mental image of his teenage make-out sessions. All of a sudden Steve freezes.
“No,” he mutters. “No, no, no.”
Shit! Steve is having a freak-out. God, he shouldn’t have started this. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He should have stopped himself. He sits up quickly a half-formed apology already on the tip of his tongue.
“We’re not having our first time in your crappy apartment on your run-down FOLD-OUT BED!” Steve announces disgust written all over his still flushed face.
Danny takes a moment to count to ten in his own head. He is not gonna shoot his partner in the face. He is not. It would be one hell of a mess to clean up and the landlady would probably frown upon blood spatter on the wall. He flops down on the bed next to Steve.
“Fine. Be that way.” He declares. “I guess I’ll just have to finish this myself.”
He points at himself and then he touches himself, grabbing his dick and setting up a slow easy rhythm. It’s awkward as hell and he isn’t even sure what the game plan is here, but Steve’s gaze is transfixed on him. He can feel it roaming all over him. It’s just like masturbating, he tries to tell himself. Only he never masturbated in front of someone else before. He hopes to God he isn’t blushing like a virgin on her wedding night and wills himself to relax into this. He lets out a small shaky breath. That catches Steve’s attention his gaze snaps back up to Danny’s face and the look in his eyes is wild and heated. Danny bites his lips and decides to go for it. He moans softly and gets louder as his confidence increases. Steve growls, actually growls, like he thinks he’s a panther or something. Danny would totally call him on it. Only he can’t, because Steve has rolled himself on top of him in the blink of an eye, effectively rendering him immobile, and he is staring down into his eyes with an intensity that takes Danny’s breath away.
“You play dirty, Danno.”
There is a hint of humor to the statement, but mostly Steve just sounds hot and bothered. Danny can work with that. Is very much ready to play.
“Do I now? What you gonna do about it, Commander?”
Steve’s eyes light up and he aligns them wordlessly. His arms are still pressed down on either side of Danny and he doesn’t break eye contact as he slowly pushes himself up and down again. Danny gasps loudly at the stimulus. The friction is tantalizing. Steve quickens the pace and there is no way Danny will last with Steve rutting against him like there is no tomorrow. He’s all for reciprocation but Steve’s solid form above him seriously restricts him movement wise. Not that he minds. The weight and press of Steve’s hard body is addictive. He gets his hands on any part of Steve he can reach and lets the tension built up.
He doesn’t want to break eye contact. Doesn’t want to lose that connection, but he can’t hold on any longer. He screws his eyes shut, throws his head back and moans loudly, reaching blindly for Steve’s neck to draw him down into another searing kiss. Steve follows him willingly. It’s entirely possible that the way that Steve groans into his mouth could kill him. It’s way hotter than it has any right to be. He’s teetering on the edge, sweaty and panting and unable to give a damn about it. Steve’s all around him. Driving him insane. He can feel and smell and taste him and it’s too much. Sensation overload. No matter how much he bites his lips and curses he won’t hold out. He wanted this far longer and far worse than he realized. He needs to let Steve know what he’s doing to him. Wants to shout his name but his throat constricts with too many emotions running wild and he ends up whispering it softly against Steve’s jaw line as he comes undone.
Danny needs a moment to catch his breath. He’s glad he’s already lying down because he is shaky and feels almost intoxicated. Steve’s still grinding against him making desperate pained noises in the back of his throat. Danny reaches up and places his hand on the back of Steve’s neck. He strokes the sweaty skin firmly. He’s also muttering something but can’t make sense of his own words. There is probably a ‘it’s okay’ and a ‘come on’ and a ‘let go’ in there somewhere. It seems to work on Steve because he is stuttering against him and then he’s spilling cum all over Danny and his sofa bed.
When Steve collapses on top of him it almost knocks his breath out of him again. It feels good, though. The way Steve just melts into him heavy and warm and so, so real. He likes the way he can’t tell whether it’s his heart or Steve’s he can feel beating like crazy, too loudly and too fast. He pats Steve’s head because he can’t help himself. He just needs to touch him. Places a few aimless kisses on Steve’s face and neck and shoulder, before gently shoving him off. Steve grumbles but rolls off of him obediently. Danny can’t say he likes the loss of contact much either.
In an incredible demonstration of will he gets himself off the bed and stumbles blindly into the bathroom to grab a towel and hold it under the warm water. On the way back he promptly catches his big toe on the food of the dresser and curses loudly. So much for riding the wave of post-orgasmic bliss. He can hear Steve snickering as he gets back to the bed.
“I forgot you have some special army night vision,” he mutters irritably throwing the towel at Steve. “Next time you get the freaking towel.”
Steve stares up at him, pupils blown wide and Danny runs that sentence past his mind again. Maybe he assumed too much. Maybe this was just a onetime thing. Only Steve doesn’t correct him. Just cleans himself off and then pulls Danny back down on the bed to do the same to him. His motions are smooth and tender and Danny can’t take this for much longer. As soon as Steve’s done, he grabs the towel from him and throws it into the room. Steve looks a little piqued. His sense of order probably took affront to the action. Danny could care less. He really, really needs there to be cuddling right now. His chest feels way too tight and if doesn’t do something about it immediately his heart might just explode.
He rearranges their positions on the bed. Shifts closer to Steve. Moves Steve’s arm out of the way so he can rest his head on Steve’s chest. Entangles their legs carefully. Places a hand deliberately over Steve’s heart. Moves and wriggles around some more until he finally finds the perfect spot. When he’s finished he feels calmer. Sort of mellow. Steve concedes to the whole procedure with way more patience than Danny would have given him credit for.
“You comfy?” He asked, voice low and bemused, when Danny finally settles down.
Danny’s only reply is a sort of languid purr. Steve tentatively caresses the back of Danny’s arm, like he’s afraid the gesture might not be appreciated. Danny purrs some more and hopes the message comes across to Steve as he drifts of to sleep.
...
Steve wakes to a low squeaking sound. He can hear someone moving around. His eyes snap open and his whole body tenses as he goes from asleep to alert in an instant. It takes him a moment to realize where he is and that the noises are coming from the apartment next door. Danny is a warm solid presence next to him. He is lying on his stomach one arm thrown across Steve’s chest. His blonde strands are sticking every which way and he is doing some weird open-mouthed breathing thing that is not quite a snore. Steve lets himself stare at Danny for a while. Sleep looks good on him. He looks relaxed, almost peaceful, in a way that is hard to consolidate with the bundle of barely contained energy that is Danny by day. There is something vulnerable in the way all his defences are down at the moment and it brings back a sudden memory of the way Danny whispered his name when he climaxed. Soft and desperate and like he’s about to break into a thousand little pieces. Suddenly it almost hurts to look at him like this. Steve turns back to contemplating the ceiling.
He feels helpless. Like a fish out of water. He kinda knew that this is exactly where they were heading and yet he promised himself he wouldn’t go there. Isn’t equipped for this. Can’t stand the thought of messing it up. He never had someone like Danny in his life before and the thought of somehow ruining it brings out a level of panic he’s not accustomed to. And yet, he can’t keep his distance. Pretty much let his guard down as soon as he met the loud-mouthed Jersey detective and never got it up again. He tried establishing some sort of boundary early on and earned himself a right hook in the face for his troubles. And that was that. Ever since Danny has been allowed to invade his private space at will and to his horror Steve found that he can’t stop getting too close either. Establishing a sort of easy fuck-buddy thing with Catherine didn’t help at all. Hasn’t squashed the urge to kiss Danny senseless every time the other man chews on his delectable lips one single bit.
Truth is Steve never had any defenses against Danny. They fit so seamlessly it scares him a little. It’s almost sad how fast the other man became the center of his life as well as his fantasies. Part of the problem is that Danny cares too much. Always needs to make things better. Steve has been taking care of himself for so long now he almost forgot what it’s like to have someone else do it for him. But Danny is relentless, nagging and probing and all over his personal shit until it becomes too easy to give in.
If it were just attraction Steve could have dealt with it somehow, but this is stronger. Something about Danny truly drives him crazy. Fills him with raw need until he feels like he might explode from trying to keep it all in. As soon as Danny touched is face, eyes soft and worried Steve was a goner. Couldn’t have fought down the urge to claim Danny’s mouth for the life of him. The way desire and trust and something else - something deeper - came together was perfect and terrifying. It’s like a switch’s been flipped and suddenly Steve’s entire world is heat and passion, kissing and groping and Danny touching himself - an image that burned itself into Steve’s brain and will probably feature prominently in every wet dream he is going to have from here on out. Danny in bed is like Danny in life loud, hot, erratic, all-consuming and everything Steve could possibly hope for. The way Danny let himself be affectionate afterwards, lavishing small touches and caresses upon Steve as if it’s the easiest thing in the world almost killed him.
And now that he’s had that. Had Danny gasping and shuttering against him. He wants to have all of it again. Even that terrible feeling at the end like he’s coming apart at the seams and Danny’s all that’s holding him together. He knows there’s no way of going back from this, no way he can stop himself from trying for more and still he’s scared shitless that it will blow up in his face. That he’ll somehow manage to fuck it up majorly and only be able to watch them crash and burn. As if he can sense him worrying too much Danny shifts against him.
“I swear to God, McGarrett,” he mumbles into Steve’s shoulder. His voice rough from sleep. “It’s five o’ fucking clock in the morning. If you are thinking about running a marathon before breakfast. Or maybe, having a nice little swim around the island. I will put a bullet in you.”
“Your neighbors heard us having sex.” Steve blurts out. It’s not exactly relevant at the moment but he feels it’s a valuable point, nonetheless.
“I know,” Danny says sounding pleased with himself. “Go back to sleep, Steve.”
There is no adequate reply to that and for all the times Steve deliberately ignores what Danny is telling him to do he knows perfectly well when to follow his partner’s orders. Danny lets out a small satisfied sigh and shifts closer to Steve as he drifts off again. Steve thinks what the hell, intertwines his fingers with Danny’s and presses a small kiss to the blonde’s head before following him back to sleep.
…
The next time Steve wakes up a pillow hits him squarely in the face.
“Up and at ‘em, tiger!” Danny shouts cheerily from where he is standing at the other side of the room. He is wearing boxers and his hair looks all messy and damp. Steve can’t get over how much he wants to jump the man right this very moment.
“I’m starving,” Danny declares. “Get your foul ass up and under the shower. So we can grab some breakfast.”
Steve knows from experience not to mess with Danny when he hasn’t eaten yet. The man takes food seriously. So he obediently gets up and does as he’s told. When he gets back from the shower Danny’s already dressed. He even has his tie on.
Steve pads over to him. Still dripping slightly and clad only in a towel he wraps himself firmly around Danny. It’s oddly satisfying to be able to do that. Danny protests half-heartedly at getting his clothes wet but doesn’t shove Steve off. Instead his arms settle on Steve’s hips automatically and he moves into Steve’s kiss without hesitation. They are standing in the middle of Danny’s apartment kissing lazily. Steve enjoys the sensation of Danny’s clothed body pressing against his naked torso. He can feel Danny caressing his back, hands dipping lower slowly and then he’s kneading Steve’s ass. Steve grinds against him. The towel is slipping and he’s already half hard. Danny growls and Steve digs that he apparently just can’t help himself.
“Bad Seal!” Danny exclaims and actually slaps Steve’s ass hard. Steve lets him go and puts his best pout forward.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Danny says flourishing his hands around. “You’re naked and wet and … God! Look, I know exactly how this is going to play out. Your phone will ring and there will be some freaking huge national emergency and we’ll be late. And then I won’t have time for breakfast. I can’t deal with gunrunners or drug cartels or any kind of wackjob serial killer on an empty stomach. So get dressed, now.”
“You choose breakfast over me? The romance is dead,” Steve mumbles as he picks up his clothes and pulls them on.
“I’m not just talking breakfast here. I am talking pancakes. I’ve got it on good authority you like those, too.”
Steve looks up eagerly. “You gonna make me pancakes, Danno?”
“Does this look like a place where you could make pancakes?” Danny asks rhetorically, pointing at his apartment. “I’d say we have a better shot at a dinner.”
“I can’t believe we really had sex in this shithole,” Steve exclaims newly horrified.
“Yes, you’ve already established that. It’s pretty much a done deal. So let it go already,” Danny says waving his hands around and smirking widely.
“I hate you.” Steve says with feeling.
“You know me,” Danny repeats his own words from Mekka’s funeral service back at him and then he adds Steve’s words from the other night. “You know me and you still picked me.”
Danny smiles at him. The way he does when he’s just figured something out. And maybe he has. Steve smiles back.
“You’re driving!” Danny says throwing him the keys offhandedly.
Steve catches them easily and they head out together, bumping shoulders.
Somehow it’s just that simple.