Adrenaline (1/1)
Title: Adrenaline: or, The One Where Danny Finally Figures Out That Steve Gets Off On This Shit (And Is Kind Of Okay With It)
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: H50
Characters: Steve/Danny
Word Count: 1,700
Rating: NC-17/really, it's just porn through and through.
Notes: Cowritten with padfootthegrim, because we were talking and she said 'Ever notice that in almost every episode Steve seems half hard at least once? Well I've noticed. And Danny's noticed. Hmm, there's a fic there...' And yes, there was totally fic there, and here it is.
It's like a thing, Danny realizes, a thing that puts Steve over the top of the crazy chart, and wow, it's kind of ridiculous that it's this among all the other crazy that does it, but that's Steve for you, taking what makes sense and beating you with it.
"Seriously," he demands as Steve comes jogging back over to him after folding the suspect into the back of the HPD squad car, "seriously, you get off on this."
And there's no teasing in his tone, no questioning, no doubt at all, and the evidence is right there in front of him. Steve opens his mouth to say something, probably to object or deflect or whatever the hell else, and so Danny catches his eyes, deliberately moves his gaze to the tent forming in Steve's pants, then snaps his eyes back to Steve's face.
Steve's jaw shuts with a resounding click and his face heats - he actually sort of blushes, and holy shit, that's way hotter than it should be, making Steve blush like that - and his eyes flick away.
"Holy shit," Danny mutters as he palms the keys to the Camaro and slides into the driver's seat. Steve doesn't say anything as he climbs into the other side, folding his knees and torso and contorting in a way that makes Danny wonder, yet again, why they drive his car around instead of Steve's truck. Also, yeah, it pulls his cargo pants tight across the bulge in his pants, and Danny can't help the way his eyes keep snapping over to it when he's at a stop light or on a really slow street, even, and holy shit, Steve's doing it on purpose. It's the only reason Danny can come up with for why Steve keeps shifting his hips around in the seat, why he can't just sit the fuck still, and the tent in Steve's pants is growing and Danny's noticing it.
They're on the back side of some road that's deserted anyway when Danny growls, "That's it, that's fucking it," and pulls to the side of the road. Steve blinks at him innocently.
"Everything okay, Danno?"
"No," Danny snarls as he unbuckles his seat belt, "everything's not okay, thanks for asking," and he unbuckles Steve's seat belt too, and then his belt, and the button and zipper on his pants. "But it will be," he adds, and then he leans over Steve's body and reclines the seat til Steve's laying almost flat, and Danny curves his body around and gets his mouth in the opening in Steve's pants. It's glorious, yeah, he'll admit it to himself, hot and heavy and he can smell the sweat on Steve's skin, hear the way Steve groans, low in the back of his throat, feel how Steve's hands slide through his hair, see the muscles in Steve's thighs clench and unclench as Danny works him with mouth and tongue.
"Danny, Jesus, gonna-" Steve pants out, and Danny grabs Steve's hips firmly and presses him back into the seat and sucks hard, and Steve shudders and moans and loses it.
By the time Steve's breathing slows and he opens his eyes, Danny's buckled back into his seat, looking impatiently over at his partner. "Tuck it in and buckle," he orders, and Steve does it in a kind of hazy way. And okay, Danny thinks, maybe it was a little unexpected, but seriously, Steve gets off on this shit, and Danny can maybe get off on knowing that.
The next time, the next case, and Danny's watching for it. He can't not, though he has to wonder at himself a little for how much he's looking forward to it. He notices it as Steve's striding purposefully towards the door after they take down and interrogate a suspect; they've got a lead and it's probably going to break this case wide open, and it must be an adrenaline thing or something, because yep, there's the tenting.
If Danny isn't careful, he reflects later as Steve relaxes against the passenger seat in a post-orgasmic daze, this is going to become as much of a problem for himself as it is for Steve. He knows he's encouraging bad behavior by getting Steve off like this, but he can't really help himself when his partner insists on parading around erect in his baggy cargo pants. As Danny drives them half way across the island in pursuit of their lead, Steve finally sits up and gives Danny an excited grin. "I'll make it up to you after the case is done, Danno," he promises with a chuckle.
"Well, you better, babe," Danny replies with a long-suffering (and mostly joking) sigh. "The things I do for this job."
And then the case is done, they've wrapped it up, and there's steak and beer at Steve's place for the team, except Kono and Chin both decide they have somewhere else they need to be so it's just the two of them. Steve knows what he's doing behind a grill, no fucking doubt there, and Danny's steak is perfectly medium-rare and the beer is chilled and there's not a pineapple in sight, so Danny's pretty much thrilled with life.
And then, when they're half-watching SportsCenter and half dozing later, Steve leans over and runs his hand down Danny's chest and starts licking the hollow of his neck, and Danny remembers I'll make it up to you, and he groans and moves so he can stick his tongue in Steve's mouth. It's lazy, it's easy; there's no fighting for who's in change because Danny doesn't want to have to work for it, and he doesn't mind Steve directing wherever this is gonna go.
They fool around on the couch for a while and it's nice, it would be relaxing if it wasn't making Danny hard in his pants, but even so he's pretty much just going with it. When Steve finally pulls away, SportsCenter has turned into some sort of hockey match, so Danny doesn't even care when Steve turns it off and stands. That tent is back in his pants, but this time Danny knows it's from him, not something totally insane - or maybe this is insane, and that's a thought train he immediately hope off, because nope, not thinking about this is easier, and it's working so far so he's sticking with it.
Steve leads him up the stairs and down the hall, and when they get to his room Steve reaches out and slowly undoes Danny's tie and his shirt and his belt. The clothing slips to the floor and then Steve executes some sort of ninja move and Danny's on the bed, on his back with his legs spread a bit, and Steve settles down and puts that mouth of his to good use, licking and sucking and bobbing up and down, and then his fingers are running across Danny's ass, cool and slick, and Steve hums and bobs his head down and swallows and presses a finger in, all at the same time, and fuck, fuck, that's incredible.
Steve keeps at it, for once slow and steady instead of his usual breakneck pace, and apparently Super SEAL ninja training includes how to keep a guy on the razor's edge for hours, because Danny's sure it's been that long since Steve started and he's teetering without falling over that line. Between Steve's mouth on his cock and Steve's fingers in him, twisting and moving and stretching and pressing right there holy fuck right there again and again, Danny's reduced to half-formed words and moans, mostly.
"Steve, God, please," he gets out, and he's begging like a shameless hussy and he'll keep doing it, won't even care, if Steve will just get on with the program and let Danny have the earth-shattering orgasm he's sure he's about to have. Steve stops, though, pulls his head up and off and stills his fingers.
"What, Danny?" he asks, and his lips are red and swollen and his voice is rough, probably from Danny's cock hitting the back of his throat over and over. He twists his fingers insides Danny's body, and Danny lets out a low moan. "What do you want me to do?"
And there's something lurid and filthy about it, the way he's pretty sure Steve will do any damn thing he asks, and it's almost enough to make him come right then and there. "More," he grits out, "more, you, please," and Steve's his partner, Steve understands what he's saying, and his fingers pull out and there's the sound of a packet tearing and Steve working the condom on and then he's pushing in, God, finally.
It's still slow, still maddeningly slow, but it's the best kind of slow Danny's ever felt in his life, and when Steve's hand closes around his cock he just closes his eyes and lets go and feels the world shatter around him. Steve rides him through it with long, sure strokes, and Danny's pliant and lazy, opening his legs a little wider and reaching for Steve's face with his hands. And then they're kissing and Steve's still pushing into him, slow and steady wins the race or something, and fuck if it's not the best damn sex Danny's ever had in his life, thank you very much.
Danny's got one hand in Steve's hair and the other twisted in the sheets, and he can feel the lube somewhere under his palm. The idea half-forms in his mind, hazy and insubstantial, and then he's coating his fingers and stroking down Steve's back and pushing into him, and Steve freezes above him as Danny's finger presses in and moves a little and he finds what he's looking for. He clenches down as he rubs again with his finger, and Steve moans into his mouth, low and filthy. He pumps his hips hard then, three times, and then Danny can feel the shudders running through his body as he struggles to keep himself from collapsing on top of Danny.
When they're cleaned and back in bed, Steve running his fingers through Danny's hair, Danny thinks that maybe he doesn't mind encouraging Steve after all.
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: H50
Characters: Steve/Danny
Word Count: 1,700
Rating: NC-17/really, it's just porn through and through.
Notes: Cowritten with padfootthegrim, because we were talking and she said 'Ever notice that in almost every episode Steve seems half hard at least once? Well I've noticed. And Danny's noticed. Hmm, there's a fic there...' And yes, there was totally fic there, and here it is.
It's like a thing, Danny realizes, a thing that puts Steve over the top of the crazy chart, and wow, it's kind of ridiculous that it's this among all the other crazy that does it, but that's Steve for you, taking what makes sense and beating you with it.
"Seriously," he demands as Steve comes jogging back over to him after folding the suspect into the back of the HPD squad car, "seriously, you get off on this."
And there's no teasing in his tone, no questioning, no doubt at all, and the evidence is right there in front of him. Steve opens his mouth to say something, probably to object or deflect or whatever the hell else, and so Danny catches his eyes, deliberately moves his gaze to the tent forming in Steve's pants, then snaps his eyes back to Steve's face.
Steve's jaw shuts with a resounding click and his face heats - he actually sort of blushes, and holy shit, that's way hotter than it should be, making Steve blush like that - and his eyes flick away.
"Holy shit," Danny mutters as he palms the keys to the Camaro and slides into the driver's seat. Steve doesn't say anything as he climbs into the other side, folding his knees and torso and contorting in a way that makes Danny wonder, yet again, why they drive his car around instead of Steve's truck. Also, yeah, it pulls his cargo pants tight across the bulge in his pants, and Danny can't help the way his eyes keep snapping over to it when he's at a stop light or on a really slow street, even, and holy shit, Steve's doing it on purpose. It's the only reason Danny can come up with for why Steve keeps shifting his hips around in the seat, why he can't just sit the fuck still, and the tent in Steve's pants is growing and Danny's noticing it.
They're on the back side of some road that's deserted anyway when Danny growls, "That's it, that's fucking it," and pulls to the side of the road. Steve blinks at him innocently.
"Everything okay, Danno?"
"No," Danny snarls as he unbuckles his seat belt, "everything's not okay, thanks for asking," and he unbuckles Steve's seat belt too, and then his belt, and the button and zipper on his pants. "But it will be," he adds, and then he leans over Steve's body and reclines the seat til Steve's laying almost flat, and Danny curves his body around and gets his mouth in the opening in Steve's pants. It's glorious, yeah, he'll admit it to himself, hot and heavy and he can smell the sweat on Steve's skin, hear the way Steve groans, low in the back of his throat, feel how Steve's hands slide through his hair, see the muscles in Steve's thighs clench and unclench as Danny works him with mouth and tongue.
"Danny, Jesus, gonna-" Steve pants out, and Danny grabs Steve's hips firmly and presses him back into the seat and sucks hard, and Steve shudders and moans and loses it.
By the time Steve's breathing slows and he opens his eyes, Danny's buckled back into his seat, looking impatiently over at his partner. "Tuck it in and buckle," he orders, and Steve does it in a kind of hazy way. And okay, Danny thinks, maybe it was a little unexpected, but seriously, Steve gets off on this shit, and Danny can maybe get off on knowing that.
The next time, the next case, and Danny's watching for it. He can't not, though he has to wonder at himself a little for how much he's looking forward to it. He notices it as Steve's striding purposefully towards the door after they take down and interrogate a suspect; they've got a lead and it's probably going to break this case wide open, and it must be an adrenaline thing or something, because yep, there's the tenting.
If Danny isn't careful, he reflects later as Steve relaxes against the passenger seat in a post-orgasmic daze, this is going to become as much of a problem for himself as it is for Steve. He knows he's encouraging bad behavior by getting Steve off like this, but he can't really help himself when his partner insists on parading around erect in his baggy cargo pants. As Danny drives them half way across the island in pursuit of their lead, Steve finally sits up and gives Danny an excited grin. "I'll make it up to you after the case is done, Danno," he promises with a chuckle.
"Well, you better, babe," Danny replies with a long-suffering (and mostly joking) sigh. "The things I do for this job."
And then the case is done, they've wrapped it up, and there's steak and beer at Steve's place for the team, except Kono and Chin both decide they have somewhere else they need to be so it's just the two of them. Steve knows what he's doing behind a grill, no fucking doubt there, and Danny's steak is perfectly medium-rare and the beer is chilled and there's not a pineapple in sight, so Danny's pretty much thrilled with life.
And then, when they're half-watching SportsCenter and half dozing later, Steve leans over and runs his hand down Danny's chest and starts licking the hollow of his neck, and Danny remembers I'll make it up to you, and he groans and moves so he can stick his tongue in Steve's mouth. It's lazy, it's easy; there's no fighting for who's in change because Danny doesn't want to have to work for it, and he doesn't mind Steve directing wherever this is gonna go.
They fool around on the couch for a while and it's nice, it would be relaxing if it wasn't making Danny hard in his pants, but even so he's pretty much just going with it. When Steve finally pulls away, SportsCenter has turned into some sort of hockey match, so Danny doesn't even care when Steve turns it off and stands. That tent is back in his pants, but this time Danny knows it's from him, not something totally insane - or maybe this is insane, and that's a thought train he immediately hope off, because nope, not thinking about this is easier, and it's working so far so he's sticking with it.
Steve leads him up the stairs and down the hall, and when they get to his room Steve reaches out and slowly undoes Danny's tie and his shirt and his belt. The clothing slips to the floor and then Steve executes some sort of ninja move and Danny's on the bed, on his back with his legs spread a bit, and Steve settles down and puts that mouth of his to good use, licking and sucking and bobbing up and down, and then his fingers are running across Danny's ass, cool and slick, and Steve hums and bobs his head down and swallows and presses a finger in, all at the same time, and fuck, fuck, that's incredible.
Steve keeps at it, for once slow and steady instead of his usual breakneck pace, and apparently Super SEAL ninja training includes how to keep a guy on the razor's edge for hours, because Danny's sure it's been that long since Steve started and he's teetering without falling over that line. Between Steve's mouth on his cock and Steve's fingers in him, twisting and moving and stretching and pressing right there holy fuck right there again and again, Danny's reduced to half-formed words and moans, mostly.
"Steve, God, please," he gets out, and he's begging like a shameless hussy and he'll keep doing it, won't even care, if Steve will just get on with the program and let Danny have the earth-shattering orgasm he's sure he's about to have. Steve stops, though, pulls his head up and off and stills his fingers.
"What, Danny?" he asks, and his lips are red and swollen and his voice is rough, probably from Danny's cock hitting the back of his throat over and over. He twists his fingers insides Danny's body, and Danny lets out a low moan. "What do you want me to do?"
And there's something lurid and filthy about it, the way he's pretty sure Steve will do any damn thing he asks, and it's almost enough to make him come right then and there. "More," he grits out, "more, you, please," and Steve's his partner, Steve understands what he's saying, and his fingers pull out and there's the sound of a packet tearing and Steve working the condom on and then he's pushing in, God, finally.
It's still slow, still maddeningly slow, but it's the best kind of slow Danny's ever felt in his life, and when Steve's hand closes around his cock he just closes his eyes and lets go and feels the world shatter around him. Steve rides him through it with long, sure strokes, and Danny's pliant and lazy, opening his legs a little wider and reaching for Steve's face with his hands. And then they're kissing and Steve's still pushing into him, slow and steady wins the race or something, and fuck if it's not the best damn sex Danny's ever had in his life, thank you very much.
Danny's got one hand in Steve's hair and the other twisted in the sheets, and he can feel the lube somewhere under his palm. The idea half-forms in his mind, hazy and insubstantial, and then he's coating his fingers and stroking down Steve's back and pushing into him, and Steve freezes above him as Danny's finger presses in and moves a little and he finds what he's looking for. He clenches down as he rubs again with his finger, and Steve moans into his mouth, low and filthy. He pumps his hips hard then, three times, and then Danny can feel the shudders running through his body as he struggles to keep himself from collapsing on top of Danny.
When they're cleaned and back in bed, Steve running his fingers through Danny's hair, Danny thinks that maybe he doesn't mind encouraging Steve after all.