Comment fic, again
Comment fic dump time again. Guys, I have written more than 20,000 words of comment fic this year. I really, really need to write actual stories, y'know? 6,138 words this time.
Argue: Steve/Danny, they take their CHiPs debate all the way back to Steve's house where there might be some childish shoving & getting up in each other's faces... & then, you know... (*cough*sex*cough*)
"Let it go," Steve says easily as he slides into Danny's car. "I'm Erik Estrada, you're not, Danno, just go with it."
"I will not just go with it, no," Danny objects as he clicks his seat belt into place. "No, no, my friend, because you are incorrect. See, I'm Erik Estrada, and you're-"
"If you call me Larry Wilcox one more time, Danno, I swear to God-"
"-fine, fine then, you can be Tom Reilly then, unless you'd prefer Bruce Penhall-"
"Jesus, Danno, you know all their names-"
And so it goes, neither of them really getting a full sentence out throughout the drive, and by the time they're pulling into Steve's driveway Danny's yelling and his hands are flapping around his face. "-Penhall, you know, you could totally be him, he was a standup guy-"
"If he' such a standup guy, why don't you have any interest in being him?"
Danny blinks. "Because I'm Erik Estrada," he repeats in the tone that Steve's heard him using with Gracie, patience and hope that repetition will make it sink in, only Steve's not seven years old and that voice hadn't worked on him when he was.
Steve unlocks the door and walks in, Danny following behind, already midsentence again, and did he seriously start sentences in the middle like that, or had Steve just missed it? "-problem is, you just want to be in charge all the time, that's why you want to be Estrada so bad."
"I have to be in charge all the time?" Steve repeats. "Really, Danno, you think it's because of some control freak aspect of my personality-"
"Of course it is-"
"-and not because Erik Estrada is the cool one and I'm clearly the cool one-"
"Oh my God, you're so not the cool one, if anyone's the cool one maybe Kono's the cool one-"
And somehow they're in each other's space like they always seem to be, breathing each other's air, and Steve can suddenly see exactly how excited Danny's eyes are, the bright glint of blue in front of him, and Danny's cheeks are a little flushed, and it's like a switch is flipped in Steve's brain as he reaches out and grabs Danny by the arms and kisses him, hard and sharp and sudden. When he pulls back, Danny's not talking about Erik Estrada or Bruce Penhall or who the fuck ever, he's just staring at Steve like his world's been tilted on its axis, like everything he knows in life is suddenly a lie, and before Steve can make any further sense of it Danny's grabbing him right back and pulling Steve's head down for a kiss that's just ridiculous, teeth and tongue and lips and it's searingly, stupidly hot.
"Control issues, Steven," Danny says, and Steve has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, so he just says, "Sure, Danno," as he leans back in. It's not hard to get Danny angled and walking backwards towards the couch, easy to push him onto it and follow after, easy to slide hands into clothing and get at what he's aiming for, and then Danny's straining and swearing and bucking underneath him until he's reduced to a varied chorus of "Steve, fuck please, God," and Steve backs off the couch and kneels next to it and swallows Danny down, and then there's more swearing and a choked-out groan as Danny comes hard and fast.
Steve's got his hand down his own pants, and it takes a minute but then Danny's sliding off the couch to lean against him, his fingers closing around Steve's and pushing him faster, rougher, and his thumb reaches up on a downward stroke and rubs across the head of Steve's cock and down right below, and Steve tosses his head back into the couch cushion and loses it.
Danny's leaning on his chest when Steve finally looks down again. "Good avoidance tactic," he says casually, "but I'm still Erik Estrada."
"God, it's like a dog with a bone," Steve replies wonderingly, and then he leans and twists so he can kiss Danny again and feel the curve of Danny's smile against his lips.
Shore Leave: Hawaii Five-0; Danny/Steve; Steve is on leave while his ship is at Naval Weapons Station Earle, and gets arrested in an undercover sting operation. By Danny.
(Not gonna lie, I'm mostly filling this one because my stepdad works at NWS Earle and it makes me giggle. :D)
His ship is docked at the seaport in Leonardo and he's had his meetings at NWS Earle, and fuck if there's anything else to do in Colts Neck, New Jersey. He's not due back for four days, so Steve asks a few vague questions to people who look like they might give specific answers and comes up with the name of a bar in Asbury Park that has what he's looking for. Steve grabs his overnight and gets a car from the motor pool. It's got GPS in it; he plugs in the address that had been scratched onto the back of a Dunkin Donuts receipt while he and the other guy had chatted about the Devils, and he's there less than twenty minutes later.
Steve drives around a little bit, taking stock of the place. It looks like a dive, which is kind of par for the course, so Steve drives a little bit away and finds a fill station where he can duck in and change into something that will help him achieve his goal for the night.
The inside of the place matches Steve's expectations - the lighting is low in the brightest places, and even after his eyes adjust, he can't see the back from the front. In short, it's perfect.
"Passing through?" the barkeep asks as he makes his way over. Steve nods and gets something that's on draft and cheap; he's not here to impress anyone, he's here to get laid. It doesn't take long for Steve to lock eyes with a guy sitting a few stools down; he's on the short side of short, blonde, but he's got strong-looking shoulders and a wicked look in his eye like he's looking for trouble.
Steve can give him all the trouble he wants.
"Steve," he says as the guy moves to sit next to him.
"Carmen," the guy says. "Buy you another?"
"I'm not really looking to get drunk," Steve says bluntly, resting a hand casually on the back of Carmen's chair. "Interested in anything else?"
Carmen smiles and that dangerous glint flashes again, dark and thrilling, and a smile curves his face. "I could be very interested."
Steve lets his lips curve into a matching smile, and he doesn't try to make it less predatory than it feels. He's got the feeling that Carmen will give as good as he gets. "You wanna?"
Carmen signals to the barkeep, who nods and brings a slip of paper over. Carmen doesn't even look at it as he tosses a credit card at the guy, jerking his head at Steve, and the barkeep disappears as Steve narrows his eyes. "Didn't ask you to buy my drink."
"Two-dollar pint of Coors," Carmen drawls in his easy Jersey accent, rounding consonants to the point of being nearly unrecognizable. "You can make it up to me."
"Sounds promising," Steve says as the barkeep slides the receipt over. Carmen signs it quickly and pockets the card as he stands. He just about comes up to Steve's shoulder. Steve grins. This is going to be fun.
Or not, he thinks as they walk outside, because suddenly Carmen's light hand on his arm turns iron-solid, and there are lights and voices saying freeze, and there are handcuffs and cops shoving him into a squad car and fuck, this is not what Steve had in mind for tonight.
It's a long few hours before things get sorted. Apparently they've been looking for a guy who vaguely matches Steve's description who's also, coincidentally, named Steve, and the guy's some sort of lowlife dealer peddling to kids. Steve's all for them catching Other Steve, now that they've realized they got the wrong one, but right now he's more concerned with making sure the exact details of his sort-of arrest aren't made public, because discretion's the better part of valor and whatever, and there's nothing discreet about being arrested in a gay bar.
The door to the room opens as Steve's trying to figure out if the guard in the room is actually listening to him or not and Carmen strolls in, sleeves rolled up and wicked glint gone from his eye. He nods at the guard and sits across the table from Steve. The guard leaves, and as soon as the door closes, Carmen winces. "Sorry, man. I thought you were a little taller than our guy is supposed to be, but they had eyes and ears and told me to go for it."
"Great," Steve says flatly. He really, really no longer cares about his botched plans for the night. "Look, Carmen-"
He winces again. "Danny, actually. Sorry again."
"-Danny, whatever. Look, is there any way this could just not go in any sort of record?"
Danny looks at him with a detective's eye, taking in all the details Steve knows he gives off, and his gaze sharpens on the thin metal chain barely peeking out from the top of Steve's shirt. "Military."
"I'd really like to keep my job," Steve says, which is kind of the understatement of the year, but he's about ready to beg if it comes down to it.
"Yeah," Danny says. "Don't worry about it, I'll lose some paperwork. You're covered."
Steve feels some of the tension drain from his body and he lets out a breath as he leans against the back of the chair. "Thanks."
"I ruined your night and your chances of getting laid," Danny says as he stands. "It seems like the least I could do."
Steve snorts a laugh as Danny motions to him, and as he follows the shorter man out of the room, the thought flashes through his mind like a blur, and it's out of his mouth before he can think to not say it. "You could make it up to me."
The grin Danny tosses him as they walk through the bullpen is as wicked as the first he'd sent Steve that night. "Sounds promising."
Steve lets himself smile back. "I'm very promising."
Danny scribbles something on a piece of paper and shoves it at Steve, who takes it from him with a glance. It's his phone number.
"Tonight's just not gonna happen, but if you're in town for a few-"
"Four."
"-gimme a call tomorrow," Danny tells him, glint back in his eyes.
Steve sticks the paper in the pocket of his jeans. It's a tight fit; they're pretty much painted on. Steve doesn't miss how Danny's eyes track the pull of denim across his hips as he fiddles with his pocket.
"Talk to you soon," he says, low in his throat, and walks out of the station with a smile.
Nightmare: Steve/Danny, they're sharing a bed in a hotel room when Steve wakes up from a horrific nightmare.
Danny's sort of drowsing, in and out of it - he's not used to sharing a bed, not any more, not since Rachel, really. And that he's sharing it with Steve, well, it's probably just safer to not really sleep, even if it means he's going to be beat to hell tomorrow.
There's a low moan from Steve's side of the bed, and Danny has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from flipping over, because Jesus, it would be just his luck to be stuck in bed with Steve when he's having some sort of fantasy. The sound repeats, a little louder, and then Steve starts talking, low and desperate. "No, no, it's not her fault, don't-"
And then there's a choking noise and a gasp and silence, and Danny is already flipping as Steve sits and swings his legs over the side of the bed.
"Hey," Danny says into the silence.
"Go back to sleep," Steve responds, and he sounds like he's pleading, except that doesn't make any sense.
"Wasn't really sleeping," Danny shrugs. It's not a lie.
There's more silence; Danny knows better than to ask if Steve wants to talk about it. If he doesn't, he won't and if he does, Danny's got to give him time enough to sort through it in his head before he spits it out.
"She was twelve, maybe thirteen," Steve finally says, and he's staring at his hands in his lap as he hunches over, speaking like he's narrating something only he can see. "Afghanistan. I was fresh out of training, my first op, and I was scared shitless and knew I was gonna fuck something up." There’s a heavy pause before he goes on. "We walked into this town where there wasn't supposed to be any fighting. We stopped near a well in the town and there she was, drawing water. She wasn't afraid of us, didn't run away, so my buddy asked her to draw us some. She does it, hands the cup over to Gregson, and then there's these guys out of nowhere-"
He makes the choking sound again, and Danny slides across the small bed and sits next to him. "I've got you," Danny tells him, resting his hand on Steve's knee. Steve sort of sags sideways into him, so Danny winds his arm around Steve's shoulders. After a moment, Steve starts talking again, right into the skin of Danny's shoulder.
"They were screaming in Arabic," he says. "I didn't really speak much at the time, not like I do now, but the gist of it was that she had to be executed for helping the enemy. And before we could do anything, one of them put an assault rifle to her head and pulled the trigger."
Danny flinches, can't help it; he knows the kind of damage that caliber would do at point-blank range. "Jesus."
"Pretty sure he was nowhere near the place," Steve says bleakly. "They got three of our guys, too, before we took them out. I bawled my eyes out that night."
"I'm sorry," Danny says softly into Steve's hair, because he is, and he's not sure what other response he could possibly have to a story like that.
"I'll survive," is the response he gets, and they sit in the semi-darkness, Steve leaning into Danny's body, until Steve finally pulls back and rubs at his eyes roughly with the back of his hand. "Let's go back to sleep. Busy day tomorrow."
Danny hesitates, but he gives Steve's shoulders a quick squeeze before letting him go. "You gonna be able to sleep?"
The set of Steve's shoulders says no, but he lies stiffly anyway, so Danny goes back to his side of the bed and climbs in. Ten minutes later, they're both obviously not sleeping, so Danny gives in and rolls over, fitting himself along Steve's back. He can feel some of the tension bleed out of Steve's body as he wraps an arm securely around Steve's waist and tangles their legs together. "Danny?"
"Go to sleep," Danny replies gently. "I've got you."
It takes far less than ten minutes for both men to fall asleep.
Less Than Superman: Steve/Danny, Steve's critically wounded (which, statistically speaking, should've happened a long time ago, but Danny's glad Steve had managed to beat the odds 'til now), slips into a coma, & Danny stays by his side until he wakes up 3 days later
The takedown isn't supposed to be anything special. It's the usual sort of thing, and Danny half-smiles as the thought crosses his mind; before Steve, takedowns involving gun-runners weren't a normal occurrence, but the notion doesn't really seem all that strange any more. But this time, Steve pulls his best superhero imitation and comes up short. Danny watches in slow-motion as Steve runs and dives, hears the report of the AK-47, sees Steve crumple and fall.
There's sort of a stunned silence before Kono lets out a truly terrifying shriek and jumps headlong into the fight, shooting with a combination of her usual accuracy and an unholy fury. Chin runs in to cover her, and Danny - Danny skids to a stop by Steve, assessing his injuries before curling Steve's body into a ball and compressing him to try to stop the bleeding. He's taken two bullets under his left arm and another in the gut, and there are at least six marks that Danny can see in the Kevlar that he can only pray haven't gone through.
"Danny," Steve grits out as his breathing shallows.
"Yeah, babe," Danny responds, flipping his phone open with one bloody hand and punching in 911. "Williams, Five-Oh. We've got an officer down. I need an ambulance here five minutes ago."
"Take care of them," Steve gasps, clutching at Danny's sleeve where his arm is curled around Steve. "Don't let-"
"Shut up," Danny replies. "Shut the fuck up, McGarrett, you're gonna be fine, they're on their way-"
"You're a good dad," Steve continues, and Danny falls silent. "Grace is... great. She's really... lucky."
"Steve," Danny replies helplessly. "Stay with me, okay, just - stay with me."
Steve smiles and opens his mouth again, but his eyes slide closed as his eyes roll back, and Danny's left swearing and trying to stop the blood that's pouring from his partner's body.
It's kind of a blur between there and the hospital; Danny remembers the sirens, the EMTs trying to pull him away from Steve, climbing in the bus and not taking no for an answer. He remembers waiting through surgery and Chin bringing him clothing and making him change. At one point Grace is there, curled into his arms, but he doesn't remember Rachel bringing her; later, Rachel takes her away, and still Danny sits in the uncomfortable plastic chair.
Finally, finally there's a doctor coming from the back, and Danny almost crumples into himself as the doctor smiles at them. Doctors don't smile if people die on the table. Steve's out of surgery, recovering in the ICU, hooked up to every machine known to man. Chin and Kono go in, one after the other; neither stays long.
Chin grabs his arm before Danny steps into the room. "Give a call if you need us, brah," he says seriously. "Anything."
There's no discussion of whether someone should stay, no question that it would be Danny, and he's more grateful for that than he can manage to think. He just nods at Chin before squaring his shoulders and walking into the room.
Steve looks thin and weak and pale lying there, and none of those are words Danny thought he'd ever associate with his partner, but there you have it. Danny finds a chair in the room and drags it to the side of the bed as he studies Steve. He'll wake up, the doctor had said. I can't tell you when, but he's strong. He'll pull through.
The nurse comes in after the sun goes down and fusses at him to leave until he pulls his badge. She quiets and leaves, but Danny can tell she knows he's not there for protection. He doesn't even feel bad about abusing the badge; he doesn't think he'd be able to get out of the chair if the Governor herself ordered him to.
Chin comes in the morning, talks about wrapping up the case and all the paperwork; Danny tells him to leave it, that he'll do it later, but Chin just gives him that calm Chin-smile and tells him not to worry about it. Kono comes in the afternoon, and it's much more difficult; she hasn't had to deal with this before, hasn't seen a team member go down and have to haul himself back from the brink, and she can only manage ten minutes before she chokes out "I'm sorry-" and heads for the door.
Another day, another night; the nurses don't know what to make of him, the man who won't leave his partner's side. Danny knows he's starting to fray around the edges, can tell even more when Chin drops by and tries to persuade him to go home, at least take a shower before you come back, man. Danny talks to Arlene at the nurse's station, who has figured out that he's sleeping with Steve, and wrangles permission to use a shower in the hospital. It takes him less than half an hour to shower and shave and change, and he feels more like a human when he walks back in to relieve Chin.
"How long are you going to stay?" Chin asks, and Danny can hear the question underneath: how long until you can leave?
"He'll be up soon," Danny says vaguely. When he opens his eyes.
It's the third day before there's any sort of change, and at first, Danny's not even sure what's going on. He's got one hand wrapped around Steve's too-still fingers and he's rambling about Mr. Hoppy's adventures in Grace's classroom when suddenly Steve's heart monitor starts beeping more insistently. Danny just looks at it for a moment before Arlene bustles in. Her eyes narrow and she turns to Danny. "Go," she says firmly. Danny opens his mouth to object, and Arlene sighs and smiles a little, pointing to the wall. "Over there, Detective. Go."
Danny retreats to the wall as ordered as Arlene studies Steve's vitals. She leans right into Steve's face after a few minutes. "Commander," she says clearly, "can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes for me, Commander McGarrett."
"Steve," Danny says loudly, and he's right beside Arlene without making the decision to move. She rolls here eyes at him but doesn't make him move away as he grabs Steve's hand again. "Hey, Steve, time to get up."
There's a groan, and Steve's fingers flutter in Danny's hand.
"C'mon, Steve," Danny says, aware that he's pleading. "Flutter those lashes at me, babe. I've been waiting three damn days to see those baby blues."
"Danny?" Steve mumbles, eyes still closed. Danny clutches his hand harder.
"Hey, babe," he replies with relief. "Open your eyes, Steve. Meet Arlene. She's been pretty awesome to your sorry ass."
Finally, Steve's long lashes move against his cheeks, and his eyelids raise halfway before sliding shut. Danny frowns and cups his free hand over Steve's eyes, shielding his eyes from the light. "C'mon, look at me."
"Danny," Steve slurs again, fighting his way back to consciousness. "Happened?"
"We proved once and for all that you cannot actually stop bullets with your skin," Danny replies with a weird sort of lightness. "Wrapped the case up pretty cleanly after you went down." Danny doesn't add that it's because Kono and Chin had shot every single one of the gun-runners. That information can wait for later.
"Everybody?"
"They're fine," Danny assures him. "Everyone's fine."
And it's true, he realizes all of a sudden; Steve's eyes are open, he's out of the woods, and the gnawing pit in Danny's stomach has settled. "Everyone's fine," he repeats.
"Good," Steve says as the doctor comes in. He's somewhat less accepting than Arlene, so Danny reluctantly lets go of Steve's hand and backs away wile the doctor checks Steve's condition.
"How long have you been here?" Steve asks when the nurse and doctor have left.
"Three days," Danny tells him. ""Chin and Kono have been by too."
Steve just stares at him until it starts to feel a little uncomfortable. "Three days?" he asks finally.
Danny shifts in his seat. "It sucks to wake up by yourself."
Something breaks in Steve's expression and he's suddenly giving Danny that heartbreakingly open smile. "Thanks."
"I'd say 'any time,' babe, but I'm hoping there won't be a repeat performance on this one."
Steve chuckles and squeezes his hand as his eyes drift shut again. "I'll do what I can."
Stuck With Me: Steve/Danny, they go to Jersey to tell Danny's family they're engaged
Steve's got a pretty epic case of Aneurysm Face going on by the time they touch down in Newark. It stays put through baggage claim and into the parking lot, and it's still firmly in place when Danny shuts the trunk on their bags and climbs into the driver's seat.
"Okay, what gives?"
Steve blinks, and his expression shifts into Stoic SEAL Face #4: I Feel Nothing. "Nothing," he says, predictably.
Danny congratulates himself on properly naming the face as he turns towards Steve. "Not nothing," he contradicts. "No, my friend, not nothing, because you've been moody and quiet since we got on the plane, and that's weird. You haven't made fun of me for my tie, my shoes, nothing." He pokes Steve's chest. "What gives?"
Steve shrugs uncomfortably. "I don't like going into unfamiliar situations."
"Unfamiliar situ-" Danny stops, takes a breath, changes tactics. "Look, babe, this isn't a hostile situation. There are no bombs, no guns, no knives coming your way, so you really gotta unclench those shoulders of yours and breathe." He turns back to the wheel and starts the ignition. "I have no idea why you're freaking out about this more than I am."
"Not like I have to worry about telling my parents that I'm marrying my gay lover," Steve says blandly, stretching out in the seat.
Danny can feel the shock on his face as he whips back around to face Steve. "Marrying my - is that why you're flipping shit? You think I'm gonna have some big gay freakout in front of my family and they're gonna have some big my-kid-is-gay freakout and you're gonna be-"
Steve's non-answer is enough. "Jesus," Danny swears, unbuckling his seat belt so he can lean over into Steve's space. "Look at me, you idiot," he says with more fondness than anger, and isn't that telling enough? "My youngest sister is living with a girl. You know this. My family isn't gonna care. And if I haven't flipped out before now, what makes you think I will after this?"
"They're your family," Steve says, and Danny has a sudden vision of McGarrett Senior giving a teenaged Steve disappointed glances, of Steve joining the SEALs to impress his dad, and he shuts it away firmly as he reaches to take Steve's face in his hand.
"I wouldn't have agreed to marry you if I wasn't sure about you, babe," he says softly. "I love you. My family's going to adore you, and even if they don't, I'm still gonna marry you, okay?"
Steve's shoulders finally, finally relax, and he smiles against Danny's palm. "You're sure?"
Danny rolls his eyes. "You're stuck with me," he informs Steve as he leans over to brush their lips together.
"Good," Steve says when Danny moves away, and Danny can't help the way a smile curves his own lips as he repeats, "Good."
There's tense and then there's Steve, Danny thinks that night at dinner. It seems like his mother has called in every Williams family member she could think of to visit while Danny's home, and they're currently jammed around the table with Danny's sisters and their families as well as a few cousins. There's Emily and her husband Joe, Ginny and her husband Steve (which his Steve had pulled a face at, one Danny didn't even have to name to know it means awkward), his cousins Sarah and Pete and Luke, and then his sister Lindsey and her partner Janey right next to Danny and Steve. His mom and dad are there, too, and Em and Gin's kids are running around like they've been in the sugarbowl for a week.
Danny settles back into his family like he'd never left, though it's been almost two years since he's been back. He's involved in three different conversations before he can blink, laughing with Pete about something while he teases Gin and Joe and asks Luke about college. Over it all, he can hear various family members trying to draw Steve into conversation with varying levels of success. Steve's shoulders are back on high alert, and Danny doesn't even blink as he loops his arm around Steve's waist and rubs his thumb lightly over the skin where Steve's shirt has pulled up from his pants. He turns and says something back to Pete as Steve absolutely freezes under his hand.
"Calm down," Danny says softly as he turns his face back to Steve. "Breathe, babe."
"He's not worried, is he?" Lindsey's voice comes from Steve's other side, and Danny grins at his baby sister.
"He doesn't feel right if he's not worrying about something," Danny informs her, and Steve huffs out a breath and crosses his arms. Lindsey laughs, a light, carefree sound, and throws her arm around Steve in a one-armed sideways hug.
"Don't be ridiculous," she tells him. "Nobody cares." She leans away from Steve and grabs Janey's face in both hands, leaning in to plant a big, sloppy kiss on her lips.
"Lindsey, that's why you have a bedroom," Em calls from the other end of the table. Gin laughs and Lindsey grins and flips her off and nobody says anything else, not a word, and Danny can feel Steve relax under his arm.
"They really don't care," he says wonderingly, low in Danny's ear. Danny grins and shakes his head as he brushes his lips along Steve's temple.
"They really don't care," he agrees, and feels Steve let go of the last of his tension.
Dinner is good. It's fun and familiar and the food is excellent, and the conversation has died down to a dull roar by the time the coffee mugs come out. Danny grabs one with a liquor store logo on it and another from his dad's fire company and fills them for himself and Steve.
"Do you want to wait?" he asks quietly as he puts Steve's coffee in front of him. Steve's dealing with this well, he really is, but there's only so much a man can take in one day, and he remembers what it was like when he told his family that he was marrying Rachel. Even Steve has his limits of what he can do in a day.
"No," Steve says, and that's Determined Face and Concerned Face at the same time, so Danny smiles and leans in to kiss him quickly before pulling away.
"So, Ma," he says casually, reaching for the cream and sugar in the middle of the table. "What's on the calendar for next January?"
"It's this February, Daniel," she responds calmly. "How should I know?"
Danny shrugs like it's no big deal. "Thought you might want to come visit us in Hawaii."
He hears Janey gasp and squeal, and of course she'd put it together first; she works at a law firm that deals with a lot of civil rights cases. He grins in her direction as his mother opens her mouth.
"Why next January? If you want us to visit, why wait until-" And then her jaw snaps shut and she rolls her eyes. "You're so dramatic," she informs him with a sigh that's pure Williams, exasperated and fond. "Congratulations."
Janey leaps out of her seat and wraps one arm around Steve's neck and the other around Danny's as she talks at a million miles an hour about civil unions and courthouses and paperwork and how she wants to help. Lindsey just stares at them for a second with a happy little smile on her face before she turns to the rest of the table.
"Hawaii just legalized civil unions," she informs the rest of the family. "They're getting married."
There's a flurry of excited cheers and catcalls and thumps on the back from around the table, and through the whole thing, Steve sits there with a kind of awestruck look on his face, happy and confused and maybe a little afraid. Danny squeezes the hip he's got under his hand, and Steve looks at him with a dazed expression.
"They don't care," he says again. "They're - happy for us."
"I'm happy for us, too, babe," Danny smiles, leaning in to plant a kiss on Steve's lips that's just as big and sloppy as the one Lindsey had given Janey before.
"Yeah," Steve says with a genuine smile against his lips, "so am I."
Decision Point: Cameron Mitchell/John Sheppard, One's evil, the other good.
"I have to say," John says slowly, keeping his gun firmly pointed at Cam's chest, "that I didn't see this coming."
"That's kind of a thing with you," Cam agrees, taking a step towards John. "But here's the thing with me, John. This is me, it's always been me, and either you can tell me everything's fine and put the gun down and come with me, or we'll just part ways and you'll never see me again." He takes another step towards John, who keeps the gun level with a tremble that wouldn't be noticeable to anyone who didn't spend time with him. Cam sees it clearly.
"Third option," John tells him, "I shoot you."
Cam shakes his head with a smile. "Don't think so."
John's finger tightens infinitesimally on the trigger. "Why not?"
"Because you would've already," Cam says, taking the final step. The gun is pressed right against his chest now, muzzle pressing into his shirt right over his heart. "Because it doesn't matter what you found out about me today, you still love me-"
"Shut up, shut up-"
"-and I still love you," Cam finishes. It's not even a lie, not like the carefully-constructed half-truths and fallacies that Cam's had to spin to keep John from figuring out what he's been doing. It would have worked, though, would have kept working, if only John hadn't been the one called on this case, if he hadn't walked in just in time to see Cam twisting the knife in Piedro's gut. What's done is done, though, and Cam's got to deal with the consequences now.
He slowly lifts his hand until he can curl his fingers gently around John's wrist, barely touching, but the weight is enough to make John lower the gun a fraction. Cam just keeps his fingers there as the gun drops lower, lower, until it's pointing at the floor. Cam steps in again and finally takes his hand from John's wrist, using it to cup the other man's face in his hand.
"You still love me," he repeats quietly, "and I still love you. So what's it going to be, John?"
"I don't-" John swallows, looks like he wants to close his eyes and pinch his nose, like he does when he's thinking something through. He doesn't, and Cam knows it's because he doesn't want to take his eyes off of Cam. Off of the threat in the room.
It hurts, twists his stomach into knots, which is kind of ironic, really. It's what he deserves and he knows it, this mistrust from the one person in life who's ever tempted him to go clean, be the upstanding citizen he looks like on the outside. He deserves it and it hurts and it rolls around in his gut as he waits for John to answer him one way or the other.
"I can't-" John tries again, and it sounds like he's choking on the words. It's enough of an answer, though, and Cam tries to ignore the feeling of breaking in his chest as he leans in and brushes his lips against John's for the last time, tries to keep it light and pull away, but John's gun it clattering to the ground and he's got both hands fisted in Cam's jacket and he's kissing him like he's drowning, and Cam can't help the way he presses into John's body, how he kisses back.
"But I can't not," John says against his lips when he pulls back, and this time it's resolute, like his mind's made up. He takes a step back and stoops for his gun, but he puts the safety back on and holsters it as he meets Cam's gaze squarely.
"Let's go," he says firmly, and there are conversations to be had and things to tell him and, Cam's sure, freakouts to endure and deal with and work through, but John's leaving the warehouse with him and Cam can't help but feel like the luckiest man in the world as they walk out into the night.
Argue: Steve/Danny, they take their CHiPs debate all the way back to Steve's house where there might be some childish shoving & getting up in each other's faces... & then, you know... (*cough*sex*cough*)
"Let it go," Steve says easily as he slides into Danny's car. "I'm Erik Estrada, you're not, Danno, just go with it."
"I will not just go with it, no," Danny objects as he clicks his seat belt into place. "No, no, my friend, because you are incorrect. See, I'm Erik Estrada, and you're-"
"If you call me Larry Wilcox one more time, Danno, I swear to God-"
"-fine, fine then, you can be Tom Reilly then, unless you'd prefer Bruce Penhall-"
"Jesus, Danno, you know all their names-"
And so it goes, neither of them really getting a full sentence out throughout the drive, and by the time they're pulling into Steve's driveway Danny's yelling and his hands are flapping around his face. "-Penhall, you know, you could totally be him, he was a standup guy-"
"If he' such a standup guy, why don't you have any interest in being him?"
Danny blinks. "Because I'm Erik Estrada," he repeats in the tone that Steve's heard him using with Gracie, patience and hope that repetition will make it sink in, only Steve's not seven years old and that voice hadn't worked on him when he was.
Steve unlocks the door and walks in, Danny following behind, already midsentence again, and did he seriously start sentences in the middle like that, or had Steve just missed it? "-problem is, you just want to be in charge all the time, that's why you want to be Estrada so bad."
"I have to be in charge all the time?" Steve repeats. "Really, Danno, you think it's because of some control freak aspect of my personality-"
"Of course it is-"
"-and not because Erik Estrada is the cool one and I'm clearly the cool one-"
"Oh my God, you're so not the cool one, if anyone's the cool one maybe Kono's the cool one-"
And somehow they're in each other's space like they always seem to be, breathing each other's air, and Steve can suddenly see exactly how excited Danny's eyes are, the bright glint of blue in front of him, and Danny's cheeks are a little flushed, and it's like a switch is flipped in Steve's brain as he reaches out and grabs Danny by the arms and kisses him, hard and sharp and sudden. When he pulls back, Danny's not talking about Erik Estrada or Bruce Penhall or who the fuck ever, he's just staring at Steve like his world's been tilted on its axis, like everything he knows in life is suddenly a lie, and before Steve can make any further sense of it Danny's grabbing him right back and pulling Steve's head down for a kiss that's just ridiculous, teeth and tongue and lips and it's searingly, stupidly hot.
"Control issues, Steven," Danny says, and Steve has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, so he just says, "Sure, Danno," as he leans back in. It's not hard to get Danny angled and walking backwards towards the couch, easy to push him onto it and follow after, easy to slide hands into clothing and get at what he's aiming for, and then Danny's straining and swearing and bucking underneath him until he's reduced to a varied chorus of "Steve, fuck please, God," and Steve backs off the couch and kneels next to it and swallows Danny down, and then there's more swearing and a choked-out groan as Danny comes hard and fast.
Steve's got his hand down his own pants, and it takes a minute but then Danny's sliding off the couch to lean against him, his fingers closing around Steve's and pushing him faster, rougher, and his thumb reaches up on a downward stroke and rubs across the head of Steve's cock and down right below, and Steve tosses his head back into the couch cushion and loses it.
Danny's leaning on his chest when Steve finally looks down again. "Good avoidance tactic," he says casually, "but I'm still Erik Estrada."
"God, it's like a dog with a bone," Steve replies wonderingly, and then he leans and twists so he can kiss Danny again and feel the curve of Danny's smile against his lips.
Shore Leave: Hawaii Five-0; Danny/Steve; Steve is on leave while his ship is at Naval Weapons Station Earle, and gets arrested in an undercover sting operation. By Danny.
(Not gonna lie, I'm mostly filling this one because my stepdad works at NWS Earle and it makes me giggle. :D)
His ship is docked at the seaport in Leonardo and he's had his meetings at NWS Earle, and fuck if there's anything else to do in Colts Neck, New Jersey. He's not due back for four days, so Steve asks a few vague questions to people who look like they might give specific answers and comes up with the name of a bar in Asbury Park that has what he's looking for. Steve grabs his overnight and gets a car from the motor pool. It's got GPS in it; he plugs in the address that had been scratched onto the back of a Dunkin Donuts receipt while he and the other guy had chatted about the Devils, and he's there less than twenty minutes later.
Steve drives around a little bit, taking stock of the place. It looks like a dive, which is kind of par for the course, so Steve drives a little bit away and finds a fill station where he can duck in and change into something that will help him achieve his goal for the night.
The inside of the place matches Steve's expectations - the lighting is low in the brightest places, and even after his eyes adjust, he can't see the back from the front. In short, it's perfect.
"Passing through?" the barkeep asks as he makes his way over. Steve nods and gets something that's on draft and cheap; he's not here to impress anyone, he's here to get laid. It doesn't take long for Steve to lock eyes with a guy sitting a few stools down; he's on the short side of short, blonde, but he's got strong-looking shoulders and a wicked look in his eye like he's looking for trouble.
Steve can give him all the trouble he wants.
"Steve," he says as the guy moves to sit next to him.
"Carmen," the guy says. "Buy you another?"
"I'm not really looking to get drunk," Steve says bluntly, resting a hand casually on the back of Carmen's chair. "Interested in anything else?"
Carmen smiles and that dangerous glint flashes again, dark and thrilling, and a smile curves his face. "I could be very interested."
Steve lets his lips curve into a matching smile, and he doesn't try to make it less predatory than it feels. He's got the feeling that Carmen will give as good as he gets. "You wanna?"
Carmen signals to the barkeep, who nods and brings a slip of paper over. Carmen doesn't even look at it as he tosses a credit card at the guy, jerking his head at Steve, and the barkeep disappears as Steve narrows his eyes. "Didn't ask you to buy my drink."
"Two-dollar pint of Coors," Carmen drawls in his easy Jersey accent, rounding consonants to the point of being nearly unrecognizable. "You can make it up to me."
"Sounds promising," Steve says as the barkeep slides the receipt over. Carmen signs it quickly and pockets the card as he stands. He just about comes up to Steve's shoulder. Steve grins. This is going to be fun.
Or not, he thinks as they walk outside, because suddenly Carmen's light hand on his arm turns iron-solid, and there are lights and voices saying freeze, and there are handcuffs and cops shoving him into a squad car and fuck, this is not what Steve had in mind for tonight.
It's a long few hours before things get sorted. Apparently they've been looking for a guy who vaguely matches Steve's description who's also, coincidentally, named Steve, and the guy's some sort of lowlife dealer peddling to kids. Steve's all for them catching Other Steve, now that they've realized they got the wrong one, but right now he's more concerned with making sure the exact details of his sort-of arrest aren't made public, because discretion's the better part of valor and whatever, and there's nothing discreet about being arrested in a gay bar.
The door to the room opens as Steve's trying to figure out if the guard in the room is actually listening to him or not and Carmen strolls in, sleeves rolled up and wicked glint gone from his eye. He nods at the guard and sits across the table from Steve. The guard leaves, and as soon as the door closes, Carmen winces. "Sorry, man. I thought you were a little taller than our guy is supposed to be, but they had eyes and ears and told me to go for it."
"Great," Steve says flatly. He really, really no longer cares about his botched plans for the night. "Look, Carmen-"
He winces again. "Danny, actually. Sorry again."
"-Danny, whatever. Look, is there any way this could just not go in any sort of record?"
Danny looks at him with a detective's eye, taking in all the details Steve knows he gives off, and his gaze sharpens on the thin metal chain barely peeking out from the top of Steve's shirt. "Military."
"I'd really like to keep my job," Steve says, which is kind of the understatement of the year, but he's about ready to beg if it comes down to it.
"Yeah," Danny says. "Don't worry about it, I'll lose some paperwork. You're covered."
Steve feels some of the tension drain from his body and he lets out a breath as he leans against the back of the chair. "Thanks."
"I ruined your night and your chances of getting laid," Danny says as he stands. "It seems like the least I could do."
Steve snorts a laugh as Danny motions to him, and as he follows the shorter man out of the room, the thought flashes through his mind like a blur, and it's out of his mouth before he can think to not say it. "You could make it up to me."
The grin Danny tosses him as they walk through the bullpen is as wicked as the first he'd sent Steve that night. "Sounds promising."
Steve lets himself smile back. "I'm very promising."
Danny scribbles something on a piece of paper and shoves it at Steve, who takes it from him with a glance. It's his phone number.
"Tonight's just not gonna happen, but if you're in town for a few-"
"Four."
"-gimme a call tomorrow," Danny tells him, glint back in his eyes.
Steve sticks the paper in the pocket of his jeans. It's a tight fit; they're pretty much painted on. Steve doesn't miss how Danny's eyes track the pull of denim across his hips as he fiddles with his pocket.
"Talk to you soon," he says, low in his throat, and walks out of the station with a smile.
Nightmare: Steve/Danny, they're sharing a bed in a hotel room when Steve wakes up from a horrific nightmare.
Danny's sort of drowsing, in and out of it - he's not used to sharing a bed, not any more, not since Rachel, really. And that he's sharing it with Steve, well, it's probably just safer to not really sleep, even if it means he's going to be beat to hell tomorrow.
There's a low moan from Steve's side of the bed, and Danny has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from flipping over, because Jesus, it would be just his luck to be stuck in bed with Steve when he's having some sort of fantasy. The sound repeats, a little louder, and then Steve starts talking, low and desperate. "No, no, it's not her fault, don't-"
And then there's a choking noise and a gasp and silence, and Danny is already flipping as Steve sits and swings his legs over the side of the bed.
"Hey," Danny says into the silence.
"Go back to sleep," Steve responds, and he sounds like he's pleading, except that doesn't make any sense.
"Wasn't really sleeping," Danny shrugs. It's not a lie.
There's more silence; Danny knows better than to ask if Steve wants to talk about it. If he doesn't, he won't and if he does, Danny's got to give him time enough to sort through it in his head before he spits it out.
"She was twelve, maybe thirteen," Steve finally says, and he's staring at his hands in his lap as he hunches over, speaking like he's narrating something only he can see. "Afghanistan. I was fresh out of training, my first op, and I was scared shitless and knew I was gonna fuck something up." There’s a heavy pause before he goes on. "We walked into this town where there wasn't supposed to be any fighting. We stopped near a well in the town and there she was, drawing water. She wasn't afraid of us, didn't run away, so my buddy asked her to draw us some. She does it, hands the cup over to Gregson, and then there's these guys out of nowhere-"
He makes the choking sound again, and Danny slides across the small bed and sits next to him. "I've got you," Danny tells him, resting his hand on Steve's knee. Steve sort of sags sideways into him, so Danny winds his arm around Steve's shoulders. After a moment, Steve starts talking again, right into the skin of Danny's shoulder.
"They were screaming in Arabic," he says. "I didn't really speak much at the time, not like I do now, but the gist of it was that she had to be executed for helping the enemy. And before we could do anything, one of them put an assault rifle to her head and pulled the trigger."
Danny flinches, can't help it; he knows the kind of damage that caliber would do at point-blank range. "Jesus."
"Pretty sure he was nowhere near the place," Steve says bleakly. "They got three of our guys, too, before we took them out. I bawled my eyes out that night."
"I'm sorry," Danny says softly into Steve's hair, because he is, and he's not sure what other response he could possibly have to a story like that.
"I'll survive," is the response he gets, and they sit in the semi-darkness, Steve leaning into Danny's body, until Steve finally pulls back and rubs at his eyes roughly with the back of his hand. "Let's go back to sleep. Busy day tomorrow."
Danny hesitates, but he gives Steve's shoulders a quick squeeze before letting him go. "You gonna be able to sleep?"
The set of Steve's shoulders says no, but he lies stiffly anyway, so Danny goes back to his side of the bed and climbs in. Ten minutes later, they're both obviously not sleeping, so Danny gives in and rolls over, fitting himself along Steve's back. He can feel some of the tension bleed out of Steve's body as he wraps an arm securely around Steve's waist and tangles their legs together. "Danny?"
"Go to sleep," Danny replies gently. "I've got you."
It takes far less than ten minutes for both men to fall asleep.
Less Than Superman: Steve/Danny, Steve's critically wounded (which, statistically speaking, should've happened a long time ago, but Danny's glad Steve had managed to beat the odds 'til now), slips into a coma, & Danny stays by his side until he wakes up 3 days later
The takedown isn't supposed to be anything special. It's the usual sort of thing, and Danny half-smiles as the thought crosses his mind; before Steve, takedowns involving gun-runners weren't a normal occurrence, but the notion doesn't really seem all that strange any more. But this time, Steve pulls his best superhero imitation and comes up short. Danny watches in slow-motion as Steve runs and dives, hears the report of the AK-47, sees Steve crumple and fall.
There's sort of a stunned silence before Kono lets out a truly terrifying shriek and jumps headlong into the fight, shooting with a combination of her usual accuracy and an unholy fury. Chin runs in to cover her, and Danny - Danny skids to a stop by Steve, assessing his injuries before curling Steve's body into a ball and compressing him to try to stop the bleeding. He's taken two bullets under his left arm and another in the gut, and there are at least six marks that Danny can see in the Kevlar that he can only pray haven't gone through.
"Danny," Steve grits out as his breathing shallows.
"Yeah, babe," Danny responds, flipping his phone open with one bloody hand and punching in 911. "Williams, Five-Oh. We've got an officer down. I need an ambulance here five minutes ago."
"Take care of them," Steve gasps, clutching at Danny's sleeve where his arm is curled around Steve. "Don't let-"
"Shut up," Danny replies. "Shut the fuck up, McGarrett, you're gonna be fine, they're on their way-"
"You're a good dad," Steve continues, and Danny falls silent. "Grace is... great. She's really... lucky."
"Steve," Danny replies helplessly. "Stay with me, okay, just - stay with me."
Steve smiles and opens his mouth again, but his eyes slide closed as his eyes roll back, and Danny's left swearing and trying to stop the blood that's pouring from his partner's body.
It's kind of a blur between there and the hospital; Danny remembers the sirens, the EMTs trying to pull him away from Steve, climbing in the bus and not taking no for an answer. He remembers waiting through surgery and Chin bringing him clothing and making him change. At one point Grace is there, curled into his arms, but he doesn't remember Rachel bringing her; later, Rachel takes her away, and still Danny sits in the uncomfortable plastic chair.
Finally, finally there's a doctor coming from the back, and Danny almost crumples into himself as the doctor smiles at them. Doctors don't smile if people die on the table. Steve's out of surgery, recovering in the ICU, hooked up to every machine known to man. Chin and Kono go in, one after the other; neither stays long.
Chin grabs his arm before Danny steps into the room. "Give a call if you need us, brah," he says seriously. "Anything."
There's no discussion of whether someone should stay, no question that it would be Danny, and he's more grateful for that than he can manage to think. He just nods at Chin before squaring his shoulders and walking into the room.
Steve looks thin and weak and pale lying there, and none of those are words Danny thought he'd ever associate with his partner, but there you have it. Danny finds a chair in the room and drags it to the side of the bed as he studies Steve. He'll wake up, the doctor had said. I can't tell you when, but he's strong. He'll pull through.
The nurse comes in after the sun goes down and fusses at him to leave until he pulls his badge. She quiets and leaves, but Danny can tell she knows he's not there for protection. He doesn't even feel bad about abusing the badge; he doesn't think he'd be able to get out of the chair if the Governor herself ordered him to.
Chin comes in the morning, talks about wrapping up the case and all the paperwork; Danny tells him to leave it, that he'll do it later, but Chin just gives him that calm Chin-smile and tells him not to worry about it. Kono comes in the afternoon, and it's much more difficult; she hasn't had to deal with this before, hasn't seen a team member go down and have to haul himself back from the brink, and she can only manage ten minutes before she chokes out "I'm sorry-" and heads for the door.
Another day, another night; the nurses don't know what to make of him, the man who won't leave his partner's side. Danny knows he's starting to fray around the edges, can tell even more when Chin drops by and tries to persuade him to go home, at least take a shower before you come back, man. Danny talks to Arlene at the nurse's station, who has figured out that he's sleeping with Steve, and wrangles permission to use a shower in the hospital. It takes him less than half an hour to shower and shave and change, and he feels more like a human when he walks back in to relieve Chin.
"How long are you going to stay?" Chin asks, and Danny can hear the question underneath: how long until you can leave?
"He'll be up soon," Danny says vaguely. When he opens his eyes.
It's the third day before there's any sort of change, and at first, Danny's not even sure what's going on. He's got one hand wrapped around Steve's too-still fingers and he's rambling about Mr. Hoppy's adventures in Grace's classroom when suddenly Steve's heart monitor starts beeping more insistently. Danny just looks at it for a moment before Arlene bustles in. Her eyes narrow and she turns to Danny. "Go," she says firmly. Danny opens his mouth to object, and Arlene sighs and smiles a little, pointing to the wall. "Over there, Detective. Go."
Danny retreats to the wall as ordered as Arlene studies Steve's vitals. She leans right into Steve's face after a few minutes. "Commander," she says clearly, "can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes for me, Commander McGarrett."
"Steve," Danny says loudly, and he's right beside Arlene without making the decision to move. She rolls here eyes at him but doesn't make him move away as he grabs Steve's hand again. "Hey, Steve, time to get up."
There's a groan, and Steve's fingers flutter in Danny's hand.
"C'mon, Steve," Danny says, aware that he's pleading. "Flutter those lashes at me, babe. I've been waiting three damn days to see those baby blues."
"Danny?" Steve mumbles, eyes still closed. Danny clutches his hand harder.
"Hey, babe," he replies with relief. "Open your eyes, Steve. Meet Arlene. She's been pretty awesome to your sorry ass."
Finally, Steve's long lashes move against his cheeks, and his eyelids raise halfway before sliding shut. Danny frowns and cups his free hand over Steve's eyes, shielding his eyes from the light. "C'mon, look at me."
"Danny," Steve slurs again, fighting his way back to consciousness. "Happened?"
"We proved once and for all that you cannot actually stop bullets with your skin," Danny replies with a weird sort of lightness. "Wrapped the case up pretty cleanly after you went down." Danny doesn't add that it's because Kono and Chin had shot every single one of the gun-runners. That information can wait for later.
"Everybody?"
"They're fine," Danny assures him. "Everyone's fine."
And it's true, he realizes all of a sudden; Steve's eyes are open, he's out of the woods, and the gnawing pit in Danny's stomach has settled. "Everyone's fine," he repeats.
"Good," Steve says as the doctor comes in. He's somewhat less accepting than Arlene, so Danny reluctantly lets go of Steve's hand and backs away wile the doctor checks Steve's condition.
"How long have you been here?" Steve asks when the nurse and doctor have left.
"Three days," Danny tells him. ""Chin and Kono have been by too."
Steve just stares at him until it starts to feel a little uncomfortable. "Three days?" he asks finally.
Danny shifts in his seat. "It sucks to wake up by yourself."
Something breaks in Steve's expression and he's suddenly giving Danny that heartbreakingly open smile. "Thanks."
"I'd say 'any time,' babe, but I'm hoping there won't be a repeat performance on this one."
Steve chuckles and squeezes his hand as his eyes drift shut again. "I'll do what I can."
Stuck With Me: Steve/Danny, they go to Jersey to tell Danny's family they're engaged
Steve's got a pretty epic case of Aneurysm Face going on by the time they touch down in Newark. It stays put through baggage claim and into the parking lot, and it's still firmly in place when Danny shuts the trunk on their bags and climbs into the driver's seat.
"Okay, what gives?"
Steve blinks, and his expression shifts into Stoic SEAL Face #4: I Feel Nothing. "Nothing," he says, predictably.
Danny congratulates himself on properly naming the face as he turns towards Steve. "Not nothing," he contradicts. "No, my friend, not nothing, because you've been moody and quiet since we got on the plane, and that's weird. You haven't made fun of me for my tie, my shoes, nothing." He pokes Steve's chest. "What gives?"
Steve shrugs uncomfortably. "I don't like going into unfamiliar situations."
"Unfamiliar situ-" Danny stops, takes a breath, changes tactics. "Look, babe, this isn't a hostile situation. There are no bombs, no guns, no knives coming your way, so you really gotta unclench those shoulders of yours and breathe." He turns back to the wheel and starts the ignition. "I have no idea why you're freaking out about this more than I am."
"Not like I have to worry about telling my parents that I'm marrying my gay lover," Steve says blandly, stretching out in the seat.
Danny can feel the shock on his face as he whips back around to face Steve. "Marrying my - is that why you're flipping shit? You think I'm gonna have some big gay freakout in front of my family and they're gonna have some big my-kid-is-gay freakout and you're gonna be-"
Steve's non-answer is enough. "Jesus," Danny swears, unbuckling his seat belt so he can lean over into Steve's space. "Look at me, you idiot," he says with more fondness than anger, and isn't that telling enough? "My youngest sister is living with a girl. You know this. My family isn't gonna care. And if I haven't flipped out before now, what makes you think I will after this?"
"They're your family," Steve says, and Danny has a sudden vision of McGarrett Senior giving a teenaged Steve disappointed glances, of Steve joining the SEALs to impress his dad, and he shuts it away firmly as he reaches to take Steve's face in his hand.
"I wouldn't have agreed to marry you if I wasn't sure about you, babe," he says softly. "I love you. My family's going to adore you, and even if they don't, I'm still gonna marry you, okay?"
Steve's shoulders finally, finally relax, and he smiles against Danny's palm. "You're sure?"
Danny rolls his eyes. "You're stuck with me," he informs Steve as he leans over to brush their lips together.
"Good," Steve says when Danny moves away, and Danny can't help the way a smile curves his own lips as he repeats, "Good."
There's tense and then there's Steve, Danny thinks that night at dinner. It seems like his mother has called in every Williams family member she could think of to visit while Danny's home, and they're currently jammed around the table with Danny's sisters and their families as well as a few cousins. There's Emily and her husband Joe, Ginny and her husband Steve (which his Steve had pulled a face at, one Danny didn't even have to name to know it means awkward), his cousins Sarah and Pete and Luke, and then his sister Lindsey and her partner Janey right next to Danny and Steve. His mom and dad are there, too, and Em and Gin's kids are running around like they've been in the sugarbowl for a week.
Danny settles back into his family like he'd never left, though it's been almost two years since he's been back. He's involved in three different conversations before he can blink, laughing with Pete about something while he teases Gin and Joe and asks Luke about college. Over it all, he can hear various family members trying to draw Steve into conversation with varying levels of success. Steve's shoulders are back on high alert, and Danny doesn't even blink as he loops his arm around Steve's waist and rubs his thumb lightly over the skin where Steve's shirt has pulled up from his pants. He turns and says something back to Pete as Steve absolutely freezes under his hand.
"Calm down," Danny says softly as he turns his face back to Steve. "Breathe, babe."
"He's not worried, is he?" Lindsey's voice comes from Steve's other side, and Danny grins at his baby sister.
"He doesn't feel right if he's not worrying about something," Danny informs her, and Steve huffs out a breath and crosses his arms. Lindsey laughs, a light, carefree sound, and throws her arm around Steve in a one-armed sideways hug.
"Don't be ridiculous," she tells him. "Nobody cares." She leans away from Steve and grabs Janey's face in both hands, leaning in to plant a big, sloppy kiss on her lips.
"Lindsey, that's why you have a bedroom," Em calls from the other end of the table. Gin laughs and Lindsey grins and flips her off and nobody says anything else, not a word, and Danny can feel Steve relax under his arm.
"They really don't care," he says wonderingly, low in Danny's ear. Danny grins and shakes his head as he brushes his lips along Steve's temple.
"They really don't care," he agrees, and feels Steve let go of the last of his tension.
Dinner is good. It's fun and familiar and the food is excellent, and the conversation has died down to a dull roar by the time the coffee mugs come out. Danny grabs one with a liquor store logo on it and another from his dad's fire company and fills them for himself and Steve.
"Do you want to wait?" he asks quietly as he puts Steve's coffee in front of him. Steve's dealing with this well, he really is, but there's only so much a man can take in one day, and he remembers what it was like when he told his family that he was marrying Rachel. Even Steve has his limits of what he can do in a day.
"No," Steve says, and that's Determined Face and Concerned Face at the same time, so Danny smiles and leans in to kiss him quickly before pulling away.
"So, Ma," he says casually, reaching for the cream and sugar in the middle of the table. "What's on the calendar for next January?"
"It's this February, Daniel," she responds calmly. "How should I know?"
Danny shrugs like it's no big deal. "Thought you might want to come visit us in Hawaii."
He hears Janey gasp and squeal, and of course she'd put it together first; she works at a law firm that deals with a lot of civil rights cases. He grins in her direction as his mother opens her mouth.
"Why next January? If you want us to visit, why wait until-" And then her jaw snaps shut and she rolls her eyes. "You're so dramatic," she informs him with a sigh that's pure Williams, exasperated and fond. "Congratulations."
Janey leaps out of her seat and wraps one arm around Steve's neck and the other around Danny's as she talks at a million miles an hour about civil unions and courthouses and paperwork and how she wants to help. Lindsey just stares at them for a second with a happy little smile on her face before she turns to the rest of the table.
"Hawaii just legalized civil unions," she informs the rest of the family. "They're getting married."
There's a flurry of excited cheers and catcalls and thumps on the back from around the table, and through the whole thing, Steve sits there with a kind of awestruck look on his face, happy and confused and maybe a little afraid. Danny squeezes the hip he's got under his hand, and Steve looks at him with a dazed expression.
"They don't care," he says again. "They're - happy for us."
"I'm happy for us, too, babe," Danny smiles, leaning in to plant a kiss on Steve's lips that's just as big and sloppy as the one Lindsey had given Janey before.
"Yeah," Steve says with a genuine smile against his lips, "so am I."
Decision Point: Cameron Mitchell/John Sheppard, One's evil, the other good.
"I have to say," John says slowly, keeping his gun firmly pointed at Cam's chest, "that I didn't see this coming."
"That's kind of a thing with you," Cam agrees, taking a step towards John. "But here's the thing with me, John. This is me, it's always been me, and either you can tell me everything's fine and put the gun down and come with me, or we'll just part ways and you'll never see me again." He takes another step towards John, who keeps the gun level with a tremble that wouldn't be noticeable to anyone who didn't spend time with him. Cam sees it clearly.
"Third option," John tells him, "I shoot you."
Cam shakes his head with a smile. "Don't think so."
John's finger tightens infinitesimally on the trigger. "Why not?"
"Because you would've already," Cam says, taking the final step. The gun is pressed right against his chest now, muzzle pressing into his shirt right over his heart. "Because it doesn't matter what you found out about me today, you still love me-"
"Shut up, shut up-"
"-and I still love you," Cam finishes. It's not even a lie, not like the carefully-constructed half-truths and fallacies that Cam's had to spin to keep John from figuring out what he's been doing. It would have worked, though, would have kept working, if only John hadn't been the one called on this case, if he hadn't walked in just in time to see Cam twisting the knife in Piedro's gut. What's done is done, though, and Cam's got to deal with the consequences now.
He slowly lifts his hand until he can curl his fingers gently around John's wrist, barely touching, but the weight is enough to make John lower the gun a fraction. Cam just keeps his fingers there as the gun drops lower, lower, until it's pointing at the floor. Cam steps in again and finally takes his hand from John's wrist, using it to cup the other man's face in his hand.
"You still love me," he repeats quietly, "and I still love you. So what's it going to be, John?"
"I don't-" John swallows, looks like he wants to close his eyes and pinch his nose, like he does when he's thinking something through. He doesn't, and Cam knows it's because he doesn't want to take his eyes off of Cam. Off of the threat in the room.
It hurts, twists his stomach into knots, which is kind of ironic, really. It's what he deserves and he knows it, this mistrust from the one person in life who's ever tempted him to go clean, be the upstanding citizen he looks like on the outside. He deserves it and it hurts and it rolls around in his gut as he waits for John to answer him one way or the other.
"I can't-" John tries again, and it sounds like he's choking on the words. It's enough of an answer, though, and Cam tries to ignore the feeling of breaking in his chest as he leans in and brushes his lips against John's for the last time, tries to keep it light and pull away, but John's gun it clattering to the ground and he's got both hands fisted in Cam's jacket and he's kissing him like he's drowning, and Cam can't help the way he presses into John's body, how he kisses back.
"But I can't not," John says against his lips when he pulls back, and this time it's resolute, like his mind's made up. He takes a step back and stoops for his gun, but he puts the safety back on and holsters it as he meets Cam's gaze squarely.
"Let's go," he says firmly, and there are conversations to be had and things to tell him and, Cam's sure, freakouts to endure and deal with and work through, but John's leaving the warehouse with him and Cam can't help but feel like the luckiest man in the world as they walk out into the night.