5-0 First Dates Part 3
Title: 5-0 First Dates
Paring: Steve/Danny
Rating: R
Warnings: AU
Summary: Short term memory loss makes falling in love with a loud mouthed Jersey boy all the more complicated for a former Navy SEAL
An accident while on duty. Something Steve had been trained to accept the possibility of since the beginning of his career.
Even the accident was somewhat mundane at least by military standards.
He'd been on his patrol duty in Kandahar when a roadside IED exploded. No one was killed, only one other guy was wounded. He made a full recovery, and returned to active duty six months later.
Steve, however, wasn't so lucky.
He took shrapnel to the head causing brain damage.
“I remember being in Kandahar with my unit, but an IED...” he shook his head, “...I don't remember that at all.”
“That's not uncommon,” Catherine said, “This kind of memory loss is called anterograde amnesia. Memory loss affecting ability to learn new information, and usually surrounding a causative event. Retrograde amnesia is more well known because it's used in movies, but there have actually been more observations of this kind of case.”
“Do people ever recover?” he asked.
“It's different in every case-”
“Will I?” he demanded.
“I can't say, Steve,” she answered, “You may recover some learning ability in time.”
He gritted his teeth staring at the x-ray she gave him.
He heard her lick her lips nervously, “However, given the lack of progress over the past year, I believe that the chances of full recovery are small.”
He set the x-ray down looking at the three people before him, “So what's happened to me in the past year?”
“You were in the hospital for three months,” his father said.
“And then?”
Joe leaned forward looking straight at him, “You were given a medical discharge, Steve. Full honors.”
Steve didn't want to ask the next question, “And since then?”
“Once you recovered enough to be moved you were transferred to the care of your closest living relative,” Joe explained.
Steve felt the anger and shame burn through him at the description.
He cleared his throat, “So I'm no longer in the Navy?”
“No,” Joe answered honestly.
He rose stonily, “Thank you for seeing me. I'm sorry to have taken up so much of your time, Sir. ”
Catherine looked ready to say something, but Joe subtly shook his head at her.
“I think at this time there's little more to say, so if I may?” he asked automatically before he could stop himself. He wasn't in the Navy anymore. He was a civilian. He didn't need to wait to be dismissed.
Joe nodded the affirmative anyway. Steve picked up his rucksack and opened the conference room door. On his way out through the lobby he caught on that the receptionist gave him a pitying look before quickly returning her attention to her computer as a higher ranking officer walked by.
Steve wondered how word had spread so fast, before realizing that this may not have been the first time they'd seen him. Christ, how many times had he done this?
Was he a base legend here?
The crazy ex-sailor who occasionally shows up because he can't remember that he's no longer in the Navy?
He made his way across the base to the visitor's parking lot, realizing that his father had followed him the entire way.
“What are you doing, Dad?” he asked wearily.
“I don't think you should go off alone right now.
He slammed his rucksack into the flatbed, “I don't need you to watch me like I'm a helpless little kid!”
“Okay, but also I need a way to get home. Chin dropped me off but he had to take our car back to work,” Jack said.
“I'm driving,” Steve growled as he stalked over to the driver's side.
Jack didn't argue.
00000000000
“So I just live with you?” Steve finally broke the tense silence as they were sitting in traffic on the highway.
“Yes,” Jack nodded.
“And what do I do everyday?” he asked, “Surf?”
When Jack didn't answer Steve looked at him.
“What you mean that really is it?”
“Not every single day, but-”
“So that's how this works? Every morning you have your girlfriend tell me I'm in town on leave, and then I go off surfing?!” Steve demanded feeling horrified at the thought that he lead such an idle life.
“Okay, back up a minute! Let me make this perfectly clear, Kono is by no means my girlfriend,” Jack said, “She's a friend and my partner's cousin. She's like a-”
Steve stared out the front windshield. Driving intently as the traffic began to move. He specifically didn't ask what his father was about to say.
“But she lies to me everyday,” he said, “Why? For you I assume?”
“You seem to accept the story more when she tells it to you-”
“Should I be glad to hear that?” he asked, “You've been lying to me every day, or mostly everyday, for a year! Why? Why do you just let me think everything is okay?!”
Jack sighed running a hand over his face, “Look I get why you're angry, but I was just doing what I thought was best for you-”
“You have no right to make that decision for me!”
“For months, Steve, I watched you learn over and over again what happened to you and that there was probably no hope you'd get better. I watched you learn over and over again that you lost everything that meant something to you. I watched you get pissed off about it like you are right now,” he said, “One day I just stopped telling you because, you know what? There was no point to it!”
Steve opened his mouth to argue, but Jack cut him off.
“There was none! You didn't remember either way the next day. So, yeah, I lied. You want to be pissed at me about it? Fine! You're my son, I couldn't watch you have the worst day of your life everyday for the rest of it.”
He didn't have an answer to that. Instead he simply drove silently the rest of the way to his father house...his as well now. They both got out of the truck.
“What about that guy today? The one who knew me?” he asked, “What was the deal with that?”
An awkward expression crossed his father's face that made Steve instantly suspicious, “Well I'm not exactly sure what happened, but this was at a sporting goods store?”
“Yeah.”
“I don't know when it started, but apparently you've stopped in there before and the manager started remembering you.”
“And?”
“I didn't want anyone asking questions that might...upset you, so I warned him to mind his own business.”
“Warned?” Steve asked skeptically, “Right! I can't believe this. You threated someone because you didn't want me to find out you were lying to me?”
“Steve it wasn't-”
“No!” he cut him off, “You want what's best for me? Stay the hell out of my life!”
With that Steve climbed back in the truck and drove off.
He went through town until he got to a crowded tourist beach in Waikiki.
The perfect place to be alone. Every though the beach was packed, no one cared who he was.
He stood at the edge of the sand looking out at the waves and the frying vacationers.
Medical discharge.
Injured, damaged, useless. Shipped back stateside to be taken care of by his daddy.
He smirked bitterly.
Hell he should be more grateful he was living in his father's house, most likely driving his truck. He was presumably supporting him....he probably couldn't do it himself anymore.
He clenched his fists as the urge rose to punch something.
Fuck! What the hell was he going to do now?
Go home and apologize to is father because he had no where else to go, that's what!
He sighed as he got back into his...no, his father's, truck.
He drove around. Not going particularly anywhere. He was pretty much zoned out until he realized that his surroundings were familiar.
This was the area he'd been in this morning.
Sure enough he could see a sign in the distance that said 'Big Maleko's Sport and Surplus'
He turned the truck into the parking lot feeling an inexplicable urge to go inside. Same as this morning.
Apparently he'd been before. Maybe a lot.
Steve still didn't know who that man who tossed him out was, but he wanted to speak to him again. Ask how they knew each other.
After their run in this morning it was unlikely he'd be welcome. However, he still wanted to ask. He didn't know why, but he felt like his father was hiding something. That there was something he needed to find out.
He turned off the truck's engine and stepped out.
When he stepped inside the same blond man was there behind the register. He looked up and his face instantly darkened with the same hostility as earlier.
“I thought I told you not to come back here?!” he demanded.
“Look, I came to apologize. I spoke to my dad he...he told me what he did,” Steve lied since his father had been intentionally vague, “He thought he was helping me, but I set him straight-”
“I don't care!” the man screamed, “I don't care what drama is going on between you and your father I have a kid of my own to worry about.”
If Steve hadn't felt bad before he definitely did after hearing that.
“He won't hurt you-”
He looked ready to yell some more, but Steve reiterated.
“He won't! I promise you he won't. You don't have to worry. I know it may be hard to take my word for it, but he won't hurt you and he certainly won't hurt your kid.”
“That's great. You can leave now,” he snapped.
“Look...what's your name?”
That seemed to make him more angry, “Fuck off! That's my name!”
Steve winced at his mistake. He'd met this guy before. He probably already had heard his name, he just couldn't remember!
He tried desperately to think of something to say, but he couldn't.
“Okay, I'll go,” he finally said. Turning on his way he happened to catch sight of one of the forms on the counter. He was three steps to the door when his brain interpreted the chicken scratch handwriting.
“Danny”
Steve turned back and found the guy looking at him.
“Your name is Danny,” he stated confidently, hoping like hell he was right.
“How did you know that?” he asked.
“You told me. I remembered it,” Steve lied.
“You remembered just now, but you didn't 30 seconds ago?” Danny asked skeptically.
“I got confused,” Steve said.
“You got confused?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “I had an accident a while back and sometimes that happens.”
He scrubbed his hand over his face and swore, “So what are you saying you're like disabled? I mean what are we talking about here? Are you competent? Legally?”
“Yes, of course,” He didn't know if that was really true. Given his condition, maybe he had been declared mentally incompetent. However, the guy seemed, not angry, but very upset by the possibility, so Steve decided to just flat out lie.
“I just sometimes....”
“Get confused?” the other man finished for him.
“Yeah,” he said, “But...I won't anymore.”
Steve didn't know why he had said that.
Danny sighed, “Okay, whatever.”
“I won't!” he insisted.
“Good for you.”
Steve was clearly being dismissed and he did not like it one bit.
“I'll prove it!” he said firmly before turning to walk out the door.
00000000000
Steve was definitely determined to do what he'd declared he was going to as he left Maleko's, but how he was going to was another matter.
Catherine already went over the possible treatments that had not been effective for him. She'd said that the memory loss only seemed to happen when he was asleep, so he could just not go to sleep. Although, she'd also said that was unique to him, and that some people with his type of amnesia did lose memory while awake. So he didn't know for sure that he wouldn't also if enough time passed.
He drove around for a while and then went through the Starbucks drive-thru. Which lead him to briefly wonder where the bills in his wallet came from, but he found he preferred not to think about it since he was pretty sure he knew.
As he drank his coffee he thought it over until a possible solution came to him. It would require a modification of a technique he'd been taught in SEAL training, but it might work.
000000000000
He felt the buzzing sound slowly weave it's way into his consciousness. He struggled to moved to find the source of it.
With heavy limbs he groped his way towards it. Finding only red letters in the darkness reading 4:00. Some kind of digital clock.
He fought the urge to let his eyes close again.
He was so tired. Had he been drugged? If so he really needed to focus.
He reached up and pinched the inside of his elbow sharply as he forced himself to sit upright. It worked somewhat. His head slowly cleared.
Almost immediately, he knew that he was no longer in Afghanistan. The air was different. It was heavier, thicker in a way that was almost comfortingly familiar.
The surface he was sleeping on was softer than his cot in the barracks.
He looked at the red digital clock and ran a hand over it. It was an alarmclock. One of the buttons stopped the buzzing when pressed. With his hand he found something papery, and something bulbous...a lamp.
Light flooded the room when he turned it on and he was shocked to find that he was in his childhood bedroom. The one hadn't seen since he was 15.
On the nightstand there was a notebook with another distantly familiar sight on the top. It was a code. A personal one he'd made up in an exercise during BUDS.
'READ IMMEDIATELY' it said in cryptic lettering that made sense only to him.
Steve cautiously picked up the notebook and opened it to find pages of the same code.
00000000000
About two hours later Steve slowly made his way down the stairs. He could hear his father in the kitchen and smell coffee brewing.
The story contained in the pages of the notebook was unbelievable, but Steve somehow felt certain he'd written it. No one else had ever known that code. Not even his instructors.
Stepping into the kitchen would prove a test of the theory, though.
Surprise and alarm crosses his father's features as he saw him.
“Steve? What are you doing up so early?”
“I got up early.”
“Okay...do you know why you're here?”
Moment of truth, “I was injured in Kandahar.”
The look of shock that crossed Jack's features as proof enough that the story from the notebook was true.
“Yeah,” he answered, “That's right, how did you-”
“I remember what happened yesterday,” Steve answered and then added, “At Pearl.”
“You remember?”
“Yeah,” he lied.
“How?” Jack asked, sounding amazed. That was right. He hadn't remembered for a year.
“I didn't sleep much last night,” he explained, “I suppose there wasn't enough time to lose the memories.”
“Um...okay,” Jack didn't believe that, but couldn't think of any other explanation.
“I'm going to go out today,” Steve abruptly said.
“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Jack asked.
“I'll be fine,” he answered.
“Okay,” Jack said after his retreating form.
000000000000
Steve hopped into the truck that the notebook had said the keys in his pants pocket went to. It did.
He drove around restlessly, thinking over what happened his morning.
The story was true. It was obvious it was.
He was injured in action. Discharged from the Navy. Lost his memory.
The thought was fucked up.
He pulled over to scrub his hands over his face, and picked up the notebook that he'd brought out stuffed into the back of his pants.
He read through the entire thing again. There were pages about what had happened to him. In great detail. However, the only thing about what to do next was about a sporting goods store called Big Maleko's...and some guy named Danny. Something about his father threatening him because Steve had been in there before and he started remembering him.
I promised him I'd remember. I promised I'd prove it. Don't forget!
There were other things too. What this Danny guy looked like. That he'd said he had a kid. Even what kind of coffee he'd been drinking in the store the previous day.
Steve wondered why he'd included so much detail about this guy. He set the notebook down and cranked up the truck to see for himself.
000000000000
Big Maleko's didn't open until 9AM, so Steve had plenty of time to kill. He spent most of it re-reading the journal looking for any discrepancies. He couldn't find any.
Finally around 15 till he caught sight of a blond man, about 5'5 getting out of a Camaro. He walked to the front of the store, fiddled with the lock, and went inside.
Just like the description in the journal.
He looked through it again. There didn't seem to be any indication this guy knew about his condition. Although, he had written that they'd met before.
Maybe he knew something. Maybe he could tell him something...something useful.
He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to find out. At least see if the rest held true.
000000000000
Danny looked up as a cup of Kona was set down in front of him.
“What's this?” he asked McGarrett, bracing himself for whatever fucked up shit he was going to bring with him today.
“You were drinking it yesterday,” McGarrett said, “I assumed it was your favorite...Danny.”
He raised an eyebrow looking back and forth between McGarrett and the coffee, “You remembered what I was drinking yesterday?”
Steve smiled widely as if relieved about something, “I told you I would.”
“I don't believe we discussed coffee, but okay, you proved it. You didn't 'get confused',” he said, “Well done.”
Steve smiled again and Danny looked at him expectantly. Waiting for him to go on. He hadn't thought much past proving that this 'Danny' was real though.
“I um...” he hesitated uncharacteristically, “...I also remember what my dad did to you.”
Danny tensed at the mention.
“And I wanted to make it up to you.”
“What did you have in mind?” he asked cautiously. Again, Steve hadn't though that part through.
“Well...anything. What do you need?”
Danny sighed, “Look I appreciate the thought, but I don't want anything from you.”
“Wait!” Steve called as he walked away, “Please, I...I really want to make it up to you.”
“I'm not sure that's a good idea.”
“If it's about my dad you don't need to worry about it him!” Steve said, “He won't hurt you. I swear!”
“No, it's not about your dad. Well, okay, it isn't just about your dad!” he answered, “You said you had some kind of accident and that you 'get confused' so obviously you have some kind of brain damage. I don't know how it affects you, but up until yesterday you told me it was your father's birthday everyday. Just now you basically said I could ask you for anything and you seemed to mean it. That's something no sane person over the age of 8 does. No offense, but that doesn't give me a good feeling about how together you are!”
Danny went on, “I mean are you even sure you know what you're doing? That you should be out alone? There are a lot of people who are willing to take advantage of anyone they can, and you could really get hurt.”
Steve felt pretty indignant at the guy's patronizing words, but that the same time he was somewhat touched by the concern in his voice.
“I'm not a child. I know very well what's out there. I caught the 'stranger danger' talk back in kindergarten, though I appreciate the sentiment,” he said, “And, believe me, I can take care of myself even against all those bad people mentioned.”
“Well excuse me for being a little skeptical!”
“I understand that,” Steve said, “However, the truth is....I was sick, but I'm better now.”
He looked like that didn't make him feel better, “Okay. That's good.”
Steve frowned. He wasn't sure if this was going the way it was supposed to or not.
“If I come back tomorrow and I'm still okay will that be proof enough for you?” he asked.
“I don't want anything from you!” Danny said, “You don't have to prove anything to me!”
Steve nodded, “I'll be back tomorrow.”
000000000000
The next morning Steve dragged himself downstairs when he heard his father get up. He was so tired. Clearly he'd gone soft in the year since his accident.
He greeted his father and when his reacted the way Steve would expect based on what he read in his journal, he asked the things on the list that was in the most recent page.
He hadn't been declared incompetent.
His father did have some power of attorney, though not full rights.
The money in his wallet was from his social security checks. Jack had them cashed and put the money in his wallet periodically. He said it was the easiest way he could think of to get it to him.
Steve bristled against that information. Seeing his reaction, Jack walked to his office and returned with a paper envelope. It contained what was left of his last check.
Steve shoved it into this cargo pants before leaving for the day.
He bought a strong coffee, found Big Maleko's, and waited until a man who perfectly matched his description of 'Danny' arrived to open the store.
He drove away long enough to buy another cup of Kona, and then returned to present it to the mysterious blond man who seemed to be a major feature in his journal.
“Second day in a row,” he said, “I told you I'd remember.”
Danny looked at him incredulously, “That's great, Steve. Really it is, but why are you here? Why do you feel you have to prove something to me?”
That...was a really good question.
“I know that we've met before, but my memory of it is fuzzy and I just want to remember. I want to clarify things.”
“Okay,” Danny said, “What do you want to know?”
“Well, I know we met here before,” Steve bluffed.
“Yeah, you'd come in here everyday and do a little shopping.”
“That's it?”
Steve swore the guy blushed at the question, “The gist of it, yeah.”
He nodded, “I remember some things. I think maybe if I spend more time in here it'll keep coming back.”
“How did I know you were going to say that?” Danny muttered, “Look you're free to do whatever you want. I can't exactly stop you.”
“Okay, great. Let me help you with that,” he relaxed and bent to scoop up the box Danny was reaching for.
“What are you doing? You don't owe me anything! Okay? Do you understand that? You are not obligated to do this!”
Steve grinned, “Of course not, I'm just a chatty customer who has boundary issues.”
He bit his lip not to laugh at how Danny's eye twitched at the words.
“Technically, you aren't a customer unless you buy something,” he grumbled.
Steve shifted the box to one hip, grabbed a bag of grass-fed jerky from a nearby rack, and tossed it to the other man, “You can ring it up for me later.”
Danny stared at the bag of jerky and then at Steve. He seemed to have done something right because he gave up arguing after that.
000000000000
“Why are you here?!” Danny demanded on the forth day McGarrett walked through the door with two cups of Kona in his hands.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean why are you still coming here? You said you remember by now, and even if you don't why do you want to remember shopping here so badly?” he asked, “Don't you have anything better to do?”.
“You still don't want me around?” Steve asked, his tone angry and a bit hurt.
His years as a cop made Danny good at figuring out what made people tick, and in the time he'd known Steve it was obvious he functioned best when given something to fix.
“Look the problem is that you coming here everyday to help me work is a potential liability should the labor board ever come sniffing around.”
“Oh,” Steve answered. It was clear he understood, but at the same time he looked so damned lost as if he truly didn't have anything better to do then come to the store everyday and, if the time Danny had known him was any indication, maybe he didn't.
Danny couldn't believe he was going to do it, but even so he dug a binder out from under the register and flipped through the papers inside.
“Fill these out, and we'll be on the up and up,” he handed Steve an application, W4, and work eligibility form.
Steve looked at them, “I wasn't asking you to do me any favors.”
Not for the first time, Danny wanted to tear his hair out. This was the forth day the guy came in to help him work for free, but got uptight at the idea of being given a paying job because it might be a favor?
“Hey, if you ask me that's the smart choice. I'd love to be able to get out of this hell hole!” he said, “But Maleko asked me to hire someone part-time for the holidays, and well you'd hardly even require any training. As I said, my personal advice would be to run as far away as you can, but if you want the job you can have it. It's up to you.”
Steve seemed to consider this for a moment and finally picked up a pen to begin filling out the application.
000000000000
Danny rushed his paperwork and background check through. Part of him still expected he'd find that he was an escaped mental patient, but everything in his background checked out with the tidbits he'd told Danny about himself.
Ex-Navy. Discharged a little over a year ago.
Steve took to the job easily. The only snag came when Maleko insisted on working a shift with him, and yelled for an hour at Danny about hiring someone slow.
Maleko was right and yet not.
Steve did still have the occasional slow moment, but it was obvious he was very intelligent. Danny was relieved, at least, that he wasn't intellectually disabled. That he hadn't inadvertently done something that, legally, amounted to rape.
He tried his best not to think too much about the night he spent with Steve, because he never mentioned it and Danny wondered if it was because he didn't remember because it was when he was still sick. That thought was almost equally disturbing.
Not thinking of it also helped assure Danny that he wasn't doing this because of any feelings he might have for Steve.
He didn't intend for anything like that to happen again. He didn't even intend to dwell on it. He was his boss now for Christ's sake!
However, he found himself looking forward to going in to work now because he knew Steve would be there. He also hated to see the lost puppy look that always flashed across Steve's face when he sent him home at the end of a shift (though they worked their way up to the point that he would now go without protest). And he scheduled all of Steve's shifts for days when he worked so that he wouldn't have to deal with Maleko again.
He didn't know why he cared so much.
Danny knew first hand that he had family looking out for him, and having gotten to know now him more, he was pretty sure Steve himself could take on anyone who messed with him.
So why did he feel so damned protective of the man?
000000000000
“I finished straightening up the floor,” Steve reported from the doorway to his office.
“Alright,” Danny nodded as he closed the safe, “Well lets get out of here then.”
He stood and the two men made their way to the front of the store.
“By the way this is for you.”
“What is it?” Steve asked.
“Your paycheck,” Danny said, “You didn't set up direct deposit so you get the old fashioned kind.”
Steve looked surprised but only for a second, “Thanks.”
Danny lead him outside and locked the door behind them.
“So you got plans for tonight?” Steve asked.
He laughed, “Yeah, going home to crash before I have to be back tomorrow morning to open this place. What about you?”
“Nothing.”
Danny couldn't help the feeling of sadness that went through him at that, “Well you should make some. It's Friday night. You should go have some drinks, do something fun.”
“I can't exactly do that,” he answered cryptically.
“Why not?”
He seemed to search for an answer, “I don't do well around people.”
“You do fine with the customers.”
“Not the same.”
“Well, the Yankees are playing tonight. I was thinking about ordering some pizza if you're interested.”
Steve seemed to brighten at that, “That sounds great. I know of a place that makes the best ham and pineapple-”
Danny cut him off with a very thorough lesson in why ham and pineapple on pizza was a crime against nature.
000000000000
“So what's the real reason you didn't want to go out?” Danny asked once the game was over.
“I told you-”
“Yeah, but I think that's bullshit, I mean you're a good looking guy, you're fun to be around, you should be fine with people.”
“You think I'm good looking?”
Danny had clearly had too many beers to let that slip out, “Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to fish for compliments-”
He was cut off by Steve leaning over and pressing his lips against Danny's own. He hesitated to make sure Danny wasn't going to push him away, which is exactly what he told himself he should do. Encouraged, however, Steve deepened the kiss sucking Danny's bottom lip in between his own.
He groaned as he pulled away, “I've wanted to do that all day.”
It was true he had, and, judging by how his notebook featured pages of possible 'evidence' that there was something between them before, it was probably longer than that.
“Look I'm not sure this is a good idea.”
“Probably not,” Steve agreed going back in for another kiss.
“We at least need to take this slow,” Danny said.
“Okay,” he agreed.
Danny sighed and swore before leaning into the kiss, pressing Steve back into the couch cushions.
“I'm gonna regret this.”
“Where do you sleep?”
They said at the same time.
Danny looked embarrassed, “Here. The couch folds out.”
Normally Steve would have teased him about that, but, given that he lived with his father, he was hardly in any position to.
Instead he simply worked on kissing Danny senseless. Once he'd done so to his own satisfaction the two quickly pulled out Danny's bed, and Steve pressed him into it.
Danny gave in for a minute before abruptly flipping Steve onto his back. He straddled his waist pressing there arousals together.
“Who says you get to be on top again?” he growled.
Again?
They'd done this before!
And he had forgotten. That thought pissed Steve off, but Danny was working on his belt buckle his expression saying that he planned to pound him through his lumpy fold out mattress, so Steve couldn't bring himself to mourn too much at the moment.
000000000000
In spite of the temptation, Steve didn't give in to the urge to drift off to sleep afterward. He kept Danny awake, getting him to talk. Thankfully, Danny talked a lot.
He shifted on Steve's chest and looked up at him, “You're still going to be trouble for me aren't you?”
Steve rolled his eyes and pulled Danny up for a kiss. He hoped not.
As the kiss deepened Steve slid his hands down to do something else he'd been thinking about all day, cup Danny's ass.
God, it was firm and felt just as good as it looked in those stupid dockers he wore. He felt his cock twitch and begin to fill, apparently ready for round two.
He recalled Danny saying he was on top last time. Did that mean he'd fucked that ass and didn't remember? That was just supremely unfair!
Nipping Danny's lip, he rolled them over to intent on getting a reminder.
000000000000
“Where ya going?”
“Gotta go home.”
“Nah, s'late.”
“Gotta go.”
“...why?”
“Can't remember.”
“Hm...sleep, babe.”
“...kay.”
A/N: More soon. Will see Danny finding out about Steve's condition, and Steve actually dealing with some more of his issues. I'm afraid he's a bit in denial right now.
Paring: Steve/Danny
Rating: R
Warnings: AU
Summary: Short term memory loss makes falling in love with a loud mouthed Jersey boy all the more complicated for a former Navy SEAL
An accident while on duty. Something Steve had been trained to accept the possibility of since the beginning of his career.
Even the accident was somewhat mundane at least by military standards.
He'd been on his patrol duty in Kandahar when a roadside IED exploded. No one was killed, only one other guy was wounded. He made a full recovery, and returned to active duty six months later.
Steve, however, wasn't so lucky.
He took shrapnel to the head causing brain damage.
“I remember being in Kandahar with my unit, but an IED...” he shook his head, “...I don't remember that at all.”
“That's not uncommon,” Catherine said, “This kind of memory loss is called anterograde amnesia. Memory loss affecting ability to learn new information, and usually surrounding a causative event. Retrograde amnesia is more well known because it's used in movies, but there have actually been more observations of this kind of case.”
“Do people ever recover?” he asked.
“It's different in every case-”
“Will I?” he demanded.
“I can't say, Steve,” she answered, “You may recover some learning ability in time.”
He gritted his teeth staring at the x-ray she gave him.
He heard her lick her lips nervously, “However, given the lack of progress over the past year, I believe that the chances of full recovery are small.”
He set the x-ray down looking at the three people before him, “So what's happened to me in the past year?”
“You were in the hospital for three months,” his father said.
“And then?”
Joe leaned forward looking straight at him, “You were given a medical discharge, Steve. Full honors.”
Steve didn't want to ask the next question, “And since then?”
“Once you recovered enough to be moved you were transferred to the care of your closest living relative,” Joe explained.
Steve felt the anger and shame burn through him at the description.
He cleared his throat, “So I'm no longer in the Navy?”
“No,” Joe answered honestly.
He rose stonily, “Thank you for seeing me. I'm sorry to have taken up so much of your time, Sir. ”
Catherine looked ready to say something, but Joe subtly shook his head at her.
“I think at this time there's little more to say, so if I may?” he asked automatically before he could stop himself. He wasn't in the Navy anymore. He was a civilian. He didn't need to wait to be dismissed.
Joe nodded the affirmative anyway. Steve picked up his rucksack and opened the conference room door. On his way out through the lobby he caught on that the receptionist gave him a pitying look before quickly returning her attention to her computer as a higher ranking officer walked by.
Steve wondered how word had spread so fast, before realizing that this may not have been the first time they'd seen him. Christ, how many times had he done this?
Was he a base legend here?
The crazy ex-sailor who occasionally shows up because he can't remember that he's no longer in the Navy?
He made his way across the base to the visitor's parking lot, realizing that his father had followed him the entire way.
“What are you doing, Dad?” he asked wearily.
“I don't think you should go off alone right now.
He slammed his rucksack into the flatbed, “I don't need you to watch me like I'm a helpless little kid!”
“Okay, but also I need a way to get home. Chin dropped me off but he had to take our car back to work,” Jack said.
“I'm driving,” Steve growled as he stalked over to the driver's side.
Jack didn't argue.
00000000000
“So I just live with you?” Steve finally broke the tense silence as they were sitting in traffic on the highway.
“Yes,” Jack nodded.
“And what do I do everyday?” he asked, “Surf?”
When Jack didn't answer Steve looked at him.
“What you mean that really is it?”
“Not every single day, but-”
“So that's how this works? Every morning you have your girlfriend tell me I'm in town on leave, and then I go off surfing?!” Steve demanded feeling horrified at the thought that he lead such an idle life.
“Okay, back up a minute! Let me make this perfectly clear, Kono is by no means my girlfriend,” Jack said, “She's a friend and my partner's cousin. She's like a-”
Steve stared out the front windshield. Driving intently as the traffic began to move. He specifically didn't ask what his father was about to say.
“But she lies to me everyday,” he said, “Why? For you I assume?”
“You seem to accept the story more when she tells it to you-”
“Should I be glad to hear that?” he asked, “You've been lying to me every day, or mostly everyday, for a year! Why? Why do you just let me think everything is okay?!”
Jack sighed running a hand over his face, “Look I get why you're angry, but I was just doing what I thought was best for you-”
“You have no right to make that decision for me!”
“For months, Steve, I watched you learn over and over again what happened to you and that there was probably no hope you'd get better. I watched you learn over and over again that you lost everything that meant something to you. I watched you get pissed off about it like you are right now,” he said, “One day I just stopped telling you because, you know what? There was no point to it!”
Steve opened his mouth to argue, but Jack cut him off.
“There was none! You didn't remember either way the next day. So, yeah, I lied. You want to be pissed at me about it? Fine! You're my son, I couldn't watch you have the worst day of your life everyday for the rest of it.”
He didn't have an answer to that. Instead he simply drove silently the rest of the way to his father house...his as well now. They both got out of the truck.
“What about that guy today? The one who knew me?” he asked, “What was the deal with that?”
An awkward expression crossed his father's face that made Steve instantly suspicious, “Well I'm not exactly sure what happened, but this was at a sporting goods store?”
“Yeah.”
“I don't know when it started, but apparently you've stopped in there before and the manager started remembering you.”
“And?”
“I didn't want anyone asking questions that might...upset you, so I warned him to mind his own business.”
“Warned?” Steve asked skeptically, “Right! I can't believe this. You threated someone because you didn't want me to find out you were lying to me?”
“Steve it wasn't-”
“No!” he cut him off, “You want what's best for me? Stay the hell out of my life!”
With that Steve climbed back in the truck and drove off.
He went through town until he got to a crowded tourist beach in Waikiki.
The perfect place to be alone. Every though the beach was packed, no one cared who he was.
He stood at the edge of the sand looking out at the waves and the frying vacationers.
Medical discharge.
Injured, damaged, useless. Shipped back stateside to be taken care of by his daddy.
He smirked bitterly.
Hell he should be more grateful he was living in his father's house, most likely driving his truck. He was presumably supporting him....he probably couldn't do it himself anymore.
He clenched his fists as the urge rose to punch something.
Fuck! What the hell was he going to do now?
Go home and apologize to is father because he had no where else to go, that's what!
He sighed as he got back into his...no, his father's, truck.
He drove around. Not going particularly anywhere. He was pretty much zoned out until he realized that his surroundings were familiar.
This was the area he'd been in this morning.
Sure enough he could see a sign in the distance that said 'Big Maleko's Sport and Surplus'
He turned the truck into the parking lot feeling an inexplicable urge to go inside. Same as this morning.
Apparently he'd been before. Maybe a lot.
Steve still didn't know who that man who tossed him out was, but he wanted to speak to him again. Ask how they knew each other.
After their run in this morning it was unlikely he'd be welcome. However, he still wanted to ask. He didn't know why, but he felt like his father was hiding something. That there was something he needed to find out.
He turned off the truck's engine and stepped out.
When he stepped inside the same blond man was there behind the register. He looked up and his face instantly darkened with the same hostility as earlier.
“I thought I told you not to come back here?!” he demanded.
“Look, I came to apologize. I spoke to my dad he...he told me what he did,” Steve lied since his father had been intentionally vague, “He thought he was helping me, but I set him straight-”
“I don't care!” the man screamed, “I don't care what drama is going on between you and your father I have a kid of my own to worry about.”
If Steve hadn't felt bad before he definitely did after hearing that.
“He won't hurt you-”
He looked ready to yell some more, but Steve reiterated.
“He won't! I promise you he won't. You don't have to worry. I know it may be hard to take my word for it, but he won't hurt you and he certainly won't hurt your kid.”
“That's great. You can leave now,” he snapped.
“Look...what's your name?”
That seemed to make him more angry, “Fuck off! That's my name!”
Steve winced at his mistake. He'd met this guy before. He probably already had heard his name, he just couldn't remember!
He tried desperately to think of something to say, but he couldn't.
“Okay, I'll go,” he finally said. Turning on his way he happened to catch sight of one of the forms on the counter. He was three steps to the door when his brain interpreted the chicken scratch handwriting.
“Danny”
Steve turned back and found the guy looking at him.
“Your name is Danny,” he stated confidently, hoping like hell he was right.
“How did you know that?” he asked.
“You told me. I remembered it,” Steve lied.
“You remembered just now, but you didn't 30 seconds ago?” Danny asked skeptically.
“I got confused,” Steve said.
“You got confused?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “I had an accident a while back and sometimes that happens.”
He scrubbed his hand over his face and swore, “So what are you saying you're like disabled? I mean what are we talking about here? Are you competent? Legally?”
“Yes, of course,” He didn't know if that was really true. Given his condition, maybe he had been declared mentally incompetent. However, the guy seemed, not angry, but very upset by the possibility, so Steve decided to just flat out lie.
“I just sometimes....”
“Get confused?” the other man finished for him.
“Yeah,” he said, “But...I won't anymore.”
Steve didn't know why he had said that.
Danny sighed, “Okay, whatever.”
“I won't!” he insisted.
“Good for you.”
Steve was clearly being dismissed and he did not like it one bit.
“I'll prove it!” he said firmly before turning to walk out the door.
00000000000
Steve was definitely determined to do what he'd declared he was going to as he left Maleko's, but how he was going to was another matter.
Catherine already went over the possible treatments that had not been effective for him. She'd said that the memory loss only seemed to happen when he was asleep, so he could just not go to sleep. Although, she'd also said that was unique to him, and that some people with his type of amnesia did lose memory while awake. So he didn't know for sure that he wouldn't also if enough time passed.
He drove around for a while and then went through the Starbucks drive-thru. Which lead him to briefly wonder where the bills in his wallet came from, but he found he preferred not to think about it since he was pretty sure he knew.
As he drank his coffee he thought it over until a possible solution came to him. It would require a modification of a technique he'd been taught in SEAL training, but it might work.
000000000000
He felt the buzzing sound slowly weave it's way into his consciousness. He struggled to moved to find the source of it.
With heavy limbs he groped his way towards it. Finding only red letters in the darkness reading 4:00. Some kind of digital clock.
He fought the urge to let his eyes close again.
He was so tired. Had he been drugged? If so he really needed to focus.
He reached up and pinched the inside of his elbow sharply as he forced himself to sit upright. It worked somewhat. His head slowly cleared.
Almost immediately, he knew that he was no longer in Afghanistan. The air was different. It was heavier, thicker in a way that was almost comfortingly familiar.
The surface he was sleeping on was softer than his cot in the barracks.
He looked at the red digital clock and ran a hand over it. It was an alarmclock. One of the buttons stopped the buzzing when pressed. With his hand he found something papery, and something bulbous...a lamp.
Light flooded the room when he turned it on and he was shocked to find that he was in his childhood bedroom. The one hadn't seen since he was 15.
On the nightstand there was a notebook with another distantly familiar sight on the top. It was a code. A personal one he'd made up in an exercise during BUDS.
'READ IMMEDIATELY' it said in cryptic lettering that made sense only to him.
Steve cautiously picked up the notebook and opened it to find pages of the same code.
00000000000
About two hours later Steve slowly made his way down the stairs. He could hear his father in the kitchen and smell coffee brewing.
The story contained in the pages of the notebook was unbelievable, but Steve somehow felt certain he'd written it. No one else had ever known that code. Not even his instructors.
Stepping into the kitchen would prove a test of the theory, though.
Surprise and alarm crosses his father's features as he saw him.
“Steve? What are you doing up so early?”
“I got up early.”
“Okay...do you know why you're here?”
Moment of truth, “I was injured in Kandahar.”
The look of shock that crossed Jack's features as proof enough that the story from the notebook was true.
“Yeah,” he answered, “That's right, how did you-”
“I remember what happened yesterday,” Steve answered and then added, “At Pearl.”
“You remember?”
“Yeah,” he lied.
“How?” Jack asked, sounding amazed. That was right. He hadn't remembered for a year.
“I didn't sleep much last night,” he explained, “I suppose there wasn't enough time to lose the memories.”
“Um...okay,” Jack didn't believe that, but couldn't think of any other explanation.
“I'm going to go out today,” Steve abruptly said.
“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Jack asked.
“I'll be fine,” he answered.
“Okay,” Jack said after his retreating form.
000000000000
Steve hopped into the truck that the notebook had said the keys in his pants pocket went to. It did.
He drove around restlessly, thinking over what happened his morning.
The story was true. It was obvious it was.
He was injured in action. Discharged from the Navy. Lost his memory.
The thought was fucked up.
He pulled over to scrub his hands over his face, and picked up the notebook that he'd brought out stuffed into the back of his pants.
He read through the entire thing again. There were pages about what had happened to him. In great detail. However, the only thing about what to do next was about a sporting goods store called Big Maleko's...and some guy named Danny. Something about his father threatening him because Steve had been in there before and he started remembering him.
I promised him I'd remember. I promised I'd prove it. Don't forget!
There were other things too. What this Danny guy looked like. That he'd said he had a kid. Even what kind of coffee he'd been drinking in the store the previous day.
Steve wondered why he'd included so much detail about this guy. He set the notebook down and cranked up the truck to see for himself.
000000000000
Big Maleko's didn't open until 9AM, so Steve had plenty of time to kill. He spent most of it re-reading the journal looking for any discrepancies. He couldn't find any.
Finally around 15 till he caught sight of a blond man, about 5'5 getting out of a Camaro. He walked to the front of the store, fiddled with the lock, and went inside.
Just like the description in the journal.
He looked through it again. There didn't seem to be any indication this guy knew about his condition. Although, he had written that they'd met before.
Maybe he knew something. Maybe he could tell him something...something useful.
He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to find out. At least see if the rest held true.
000000000000
Danny looked up as a cup of Kona was set down in front of him.
“What's this?” he asked McGarrett, bracing himself for whatever fucked up shit he was going to bring with him today.
“You were drinking it yesterday,” McGarrett said, “I assumed it was your favorite...Danny.”
He raised an eyebrow looking back and forth between McGarrett and the coffee, “You remembered what I was drinking yesterday?”
Steve smiled widely as if relieved about something, “I told you I would.”
“I don't believe we discussed coffee, but okay, you proved it. You didn't 'get confused',” he said, “Well done.”
Steve smiled again and Danny looked at him expectantly. Waiting for him to go on. He hadn't thought much past proving that this 'Danny' was real though.
“I um...” he hesitated uncharacteristically, “...I also remember what my dad did to you.”
Danny tensed at the mention.
“And I wanted to make it up to you.”
“What did you have in mind?” he asked cautiously. Again, Steve hadn't though that part through.
“Well...anything. What do you need?”
Danny sighed, “Look I appreciate the thought, but I don't want anything from you.”
“Wait!” Steve called as he walked away, “Please, I...I really want to make it up to you.”
“I'm not sure that's a good idea.”
“If it's about my dad you don't need to worry about it him!” Steve said, “He won't hurt you. I swear!”
“No, it's not about your dad. Well, okay, it isn't just about your dad!” he answered, “You said you had some kind of accident and that you 'get confused' so obviously you have some kind of brain damage. I don't know how it affects you, but up until yesterday you told me it was your father's birthday everyday. Just now you basically said I could ask you for anything and you seemed to mean it. That's something no sane person over the age of 8 does. No offense, but that doesn't give me a good feeling about how together you are!”
Danny went on, “I mean are you even sure you know what you're doing? That you should be out alone? There are a lot of people who are willing to take advantage of anyone they can, and you could really get hurt.”
Steve felt pretty indignant at the guy's patronizing words, but that the same time he was somewhat touched by the concern in his voice.
“I'm not a child. I know very well what's out there. I caught the 'stranger danger' talk back in kindergarten, though I appreciate the sentiment,” he said, “And, believe me, I can take care of myself even against all those bad people mentioned.”
“Well excuse me for being a little skeptical!”
“I understand that,” Steve said, “However, the truth is....I was sick, but I'm better now.”
He looked like that didn't make him feel better, “Okay. That's good.”
Steve frowned. He wasn't sure if this was going the way it was supposed to or not.
“If I come back tomorrow and I'm still okay will that be proof enough for you?” he asked.
“I don't want anything from you!” Danny said, “You don't have to prove anything to me!”
Steve nodded, “I'll be back tomorrow.”
000000000000
The next morning Steve dragged himself downstairs when he heard his father get up. He was so tired. Clearly he'd gone soft in the year since his accident.
He greeted his father and when his reacted the way Steve would expect based on what he read in his journal, he asked the things on the list that was in the most recent page.
He hadn't been declared incompetent.
His father did have some power of attorney, though not full rights.
The money in his wallet was from his social security checks. Jack had them cashed and put the money in his wallet periodically. He said it was the easiest way he could think of to get it to him.
Steve bristled against that information. Seeing his reaction, Jack walked to his office and returned with a paper envelope. It contained what was left of his last check.
Steve shoved it into this cargo pants before leaving for the day.
He bought a strong coffee, found Big Maleko's, and waited until a man who perfectly matched his description of 'Danny' arrived to open the store.
He drove away long enough to buy another cup of Kona, and then returned to present it to the mysterious blond man who seemed to be a major feature in his journal.
“Second day in a row,” he said, “I told you I'd remember.”
Danny looked at him incredulously, “That's great, Steve. Really it is, but why are you here? Why do you feel you have to prove something to me?”
That...was a really good question.
“I know that we've met before, but my memory of it is fuzzy and I just want to remember. I want to clarify things.”
“Okay,” Danny said, “What do you want to know?”
“Well, I know we met here before,” Steve bluffed.
“Yeah, you'd come in here everyday and do a little shopping.”
“That's it?”
Steve swore the guy blushed at the question, “The gist of it, yeah.”
He nodded, “I remember some things. I think maybe if I spend more time in here it'll keep coming back.”
“How did I know you were going to say that?” Danny muttered, “Look you're free to do whatever you want. I can't exactly stop you.”
“Okay, great. Let me help you with that,” he relaxed and bent to scoop up the box Danny was reaching for.
“What are you doing? You don't owe me anything! Okay? Do you understand that? You are not obligated to do this!”
Steve grinned, “Of course not, I'm just a chatty customer who has boundary issues.”
He bit his lip not to laugh at how Danny's eye twitched at the words.
“Technically, you aren't a customer unless you buy something,” he grumbled.
Steve shifted the box to one hip, grabbed a bag of grass-fed jerky from a nearby rack, and tossed it to the other man, “You can ring it up for me later.”
Danny stared at the bag of jerky and then at Steve. He seemed to have done something right because he gave up arguing after that.
000000000000
“Why are you here?!” Danny demanded on the forth day McGarrett walked through the door with two cups of Kona in his hands.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean why are you still coming here? You said you remember by now, and even if you don't why do you want to remember shopping here so badly?” he asked, “Don't you have anything better to do?”.
“You still don't want me around?” Steve asked, his tone angry and a bit hurt.
His years as a cop made Danny good at figuring out what made people tick, and in the time he'd known Steve it was obvious he functioned best when given something to fix.
“Look the problem is that you coming here everyday to help me work is a potential liability should the labor board ever come sniffing around.”
“Oh,” Steve answered. It was clear he understood, but at the same time he looked so damned lost as if he truly didn't have anything better to do then come to the store everyday and, if the time Danny had known him was any indication, maybe he didn't.
Danny couldn't believe he was going to do it, but even so he dug a binder out from under the register and flipped through the papers inside.
“Fill these out, and we'll be on the up and up,” he handed Steve an application, W4, and work eligibility form.
Steve looked at them, “I wasn't asking you to do me any favors.”
Not for the first time, Danny wanted to tear his hair out. This was the forth day the guy came in to help him work for free, but got uptight at the idea of being given a paying job because it might be a favor?
“Hey, if you ask me that's the smart choice. I'd love to be able to get out of this hell hole!” he said, “But Maleko asked me to hire someone part-time for the holidays, and well you'd hardly even require any training. As I said, my personal advice would be to run as far away as you can, but if you want the job you can have it. It's up to you.”
Steve seemed to consider this for a moment and finally picked up a pen to begin filling out the application.
000000000000
Danny rushed his paperwork and background check through. Part of him still expected he'd find that he was an escaped mental patient, but everything in his background checked out with the tidbits he'd told Danny about himself.
Ex-Navy. Discharged a little over a year ago.
Steve took to the job easily. The only snag came when Maleko insisted on working a shift with him, and yelled for an hour at Danny about hiring someone slow.
Maleko was right and yet not.
Steve did still have the occasional slow moment, but it was obvious he was very intelligent. Danny was relieved, at least, that he wasn't intellectually disabled. That he hadn't inadvertently done something that, legally, amounted to rape.
He tried his best not to think too much about the night he spent with Steve, because he never mentioned it and Danny wondered if it was because he didn't remember because it was when he was still sick. That thought was almost equally disturbing.
Not thinking of it also helped assure Danny that he wasn't doing this because of any feelings he might have for Steve.
He didn't intend for anything like that to happen again. He didn't even intend to dwell on it. He was his boss now for Christ's sake!
However, he found himself looking forward to going in to work now because he knew Steve would be there. He also hated to see the lost puppy look that always flashed across Steve's face when he sent him home at the end of a shift (though they worked their way up to the point that he would now go without protest). And he scheduled all of Steve's shifts for days when he worked so that he wouldn't have to deal with Maleko again.
He didn't know why he cared so much.
Danny knew first hand that he had family looking out for him, and having gotten to know now him more, he was pretty sure Steve himself could take on anyone who messed with him.
So why did he feel so damned protective of the man?
000000000000
“I finished straightening up the floor,” Steve reported from the doorway to his office.
“Alright,” Danny nodded as he closed the safe, “Well lets get out of here then.”
He stood and the two men made their way to the front of the store.
“By the way this is for you.”
“What is it?” Steve asked.
“Your paycheck,” Danny said, “You didn't set up direct deposit so you get the old fashioned kind.”
Steve looked surprised but only for a second, “Thanks.”
Danny lead him outside and locked the door behind them.
“So you got plans for tonight?” Steve asked.
He laughed, “Yeah, going home to crash before I have to be back tomorrow morning to open this place. What about you?”
“Nothing.”
Danny couldn't help the feeling of sadness that went through him at that, “Well you should make some. It's Friday night. You should go have some drinks, do something fun.”
“I can't exactly do that,” he answered cryptically.
“Why not?”
He seemed to search for an answer, “I don't do well around people.”
“You do fine with the customers.”
“Not the same.”
“Well, the Yankees are playing tonight. I was thinking about ordering some pizza if you're interested.”
Steve seemed to brighten at that, “That sounds great. I know of a place that makes the best ham and pineapple-”
Danny cut him off with a very thorough lesson in why ham and pineapple on pizza was a crime against nature.
000000000000
“So what's the real reason you didn't want to go out?” Danny asked once the game was over.
“I told you-”
“Yeah, but I think that's bullshit, I mean you're a good looking guy, you're fun to be around, you should be fine with people.”
“You think I'm good looking?”
Danny had clearly had too many beers to let that slip out, “Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to fish for compliments-”
He was cut off by Steve leaning over and pressing his lips against Danny's own. He hesitated to make sure Danny wasn't going to push him away, which is exactly what he told himself he should do. Encouraged, however, Steve deepened the kiss sucking Danny's bottom lip in between his own.
He groaned as he pulled away, “I've wanted to do that all day.”
It was true he had, and, judging by how his notebook featured pages of possible 'evidence' that there was something between them before, it was probably longer than that.
“Look I'm not sure this is a good idea.”
“Probably not,” Steve agreed going back in for another kiss.
“We at least need to take this slow,” Danny said.
“Okay,” he agreed.
Danny sighed and swore before leaning into the kiss, pressing Steve back into the couch cushions.
“I'm gonna regret this.”
“Where do you sleep?”
They said at the same time.
Danny looked embarrassed, “Here. The couch folds out.”
Normally Steve would have teased him about that, but, given that he lived with his father, he was hardly in any position to.
Instead he simply worked on kissing Danny senseless. Once he'd done so to his own satisfaction the two quickly pulled out Danny's bed, and Steve pressed him into it.
Danny gave in for a minute before abruptly flipping Steve onto his back. He straddled his waist pressing there arousals together.
“Who says you get to be on top again?” he growled.
Again?
They'd done this before!
And he had forgotten. That thought pissed Steve off, but Danny was working on his belt buckle his expression saying that he planned to pound him through his lumpy fold out mattress, so Steve couldn't bring himself to mourn too much at the moment.
000000000000
In spite of the temptation, Steve didn't give in to the urge to drift off to sleep afterward. He kept Danny awake, getting him to talk. Thankfully, Danny talked a lot.
He shifted on Steve's chest and looked up at him, “You're still going to be trouble for me aren't you?”
Steve rolled his eyes and pulled Danny up for a kiss. He hoped not.
As the kiss deepened Steve slid his hands down to do something else he'd been thinking about all day, cup Danny's ass.
God, it was firm and felt just as good as it looked in those stupid dockers he wore. He felt his cock twitch and begin to fill, apparently ready for round two.
He recalled Danny saying he was on top last time. Did that mean he'd fucked that ass and didn't remember? That was just supremely unfair!
Nipping Danny's lip, he rolled them over to intent on getting a reminder.
000000000000
“Where ya going?”
“Gotta go home.”
“Nah, s'late.”
“Gotta go.”
“...why?”
“Can't remember.”
“Hm...sleep, babe.”
“...kay.”
A/N: More soon. Will see Danny finding out about Steve's condition, and Steve actually dealing with some more of his issues. I'm afraid he's a bit in denial right now.