Fic: How To Disappear Completely, S/D, R, 3/3
Title: How To Disappear Completely
Author: superbadgirl/SBG
Characters: Steve, Danny, Chin, Kono, Catherine
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Genre: slash, angst, H/C
Rating: PG-13
Word-count: @20,000 total
Spoilers: None, really.
Warnings:
Summary: In a bad moment, Steve wishes something bad to befall Danny. When it does, it puts him on the suspect list.
AN: Really, this is where I intended to go all along, only didn't quite get there. And I'm sorry. ;)
(Read in entirety on on AO3)
Chapter 1 on LJ
Chapter 2 on LJ
(The Road So Far)
In a strange and very specific way he thought Danny being injured was a good thing, not that Steve would ever say so out loud. He’d … learned some lessons lately and there was simply no way he’d let his mouth get the better of him again. Not in that way, at least. He smiled and rubbed his fingertips along his lower lip, which had that morning been bitten by a certain enthusiastic detective who formerly belonged to New Jersey but was now his and his alone. He supposed it was more accurate to say that Danny’s mouth had gotten the better of him, there.
No, he wasn’t glad Danny had been hurt. It was just that he was a leap headfirst kind of guy and Danny was more inclined to dip a toe in, both for work and play situations; had Danny not had lingering headaches and limited mobility of his face, Steve would probably have been all over him the moment he knew he could. He winced at the memory of how livid the bruises had been at first, not to mention the swelling. He didn’t tend to be all or nothing unless it really mattered and, well, to say Danny really mattered was a major understatement. He was embarrassed that it had taken nearly losing out to realize that, though Danny hadn’t made him feel like much of a chump for his density.
Anyway, the time Danny had needed to recuperate allowed for them to explore exactly what it was they meant to each other. It also afforded them the opportunity to set the ground rules and expectations Danny seemed to thrive on, and also solidified in Steve’s mind that this detour of his was more like a permanent re-direct. A few days in, when Danny had climbed into bed with him like they’d always shared one, he knew there was no going back and that slow for them might seem pretty fast for anyone else. He couldn’t picture himself taking any other route. For all intents and purposes, he’d put up a road closed sign behind him.
He frowned a bit at the reminder of Catherine, and that she had taken immediate action of her own in a request for reassignment. He could have done better with her, and that was his only regret. He hoped that someday she’d forgive him, even if she never wanted to consider him a friend again. It was awful and telling, though, that his regret with Cath was a tiny pothole in the highway of his happiness.
Jesus, he was turning into a sap. He’d only officially been with Danny such a short time, and already he’d become a great big giant ball of mush. Chances were, he’d always been and had simply been too obtuse to realize it.
Steve’s attempt to make it look like he was doing anything other than alternating his attention between the clock and Danny, across the offices and through open blinds, was flimsy. It was fantastic to have Danny back to work, but it had been a long day and he was chomping at the bit to get his partner home, and only nominally because Danny looked exhausted. He’d ever really felt the pull of home over work in previous relationships, such as they were, and it gave him a weird flippy feeling in his gut. That was another thing he wouldn’t mention out loud, but for different reasons - he’d never hear the end of it from Danny, who he suspected was no stranger to a similar feeling himself. He grinned wider. It seemed likely these near giddy feelings would eventually fade, when the newness of him and Danny faded, so he was fully on board with enjoying the proverbial honeymoon phase. Though if he considered it, the only thing that had really changed was the more physical aspect to their relationship. He didn’t see that part losing its appeal anytime soon.
When Danny shot him an exasperated glare, Steve straightened from the awkward bendy angle he had to pitch himself at to see the other man. He shrugged and glanced at the clock instead. He was being what Danny would call a goof, but he didn’t care. He’d been waiting a while to unleash a minor prank that he’d thought of immediately after he’d heard the story, and it finally seemed like enough time had passed that the somewhat black humor wouldn’t be too inappropriate. Danny’s first day back off of desk duty was a pivotal day. Danny might appreciate it.
Or, Danny would kill him.
The lack of evidence continued to plague the case. The lab had gotten nothing from Danny’s clothes and he had no defensive wounds to indicate any kind of struggle. The small but ugly cut on his cheek didn’t contain any kind of unique marker to indicate a piece of jewelry. There was as there had been the whole time Danny was gone: nothing. Danny’s return to them didn’t mean they were willing to let it go, though all of them knew they’d have to bump it to the back burner if a more immediate need cropped up. It was, however, never out of mind. As far as Steve was concerned, every time he looked at Danny’s bruised face or saw him wince when he yawned or coughed or sneezed, his determination resurged. Someone had to pay for doing that.
Danny’s memory of the events immediately preceding and following the blow to his face hadn’t returned. Doctor Rampart and the several other opinions Steve had insisted upon all indicated that was normal. Some people remembered the trauma eventually, usually in bits and pieces, and some just didn’t. Any hit hard enough to induce unconsciousness came with any number of possible complications, and if the guess that Danny had been hit just prior to Elmore Flats discovering him and pilfering his wallet, that meant his head injury had gone untreated for over forty-eight hours.
“Come on,” Danny said, tugging at Steve’s shirtsleeve. “I can tell you’ve gone all Vengeance Will Be Mine again, and I’m too tired for that bullshit. Let’s call it a night.”
It was amazing the ease with which they’d developed comfortable routines. After a week and a few days of sharing a bed with Danny, just to sleep, Steve wasn’t sure he’d be able to rest without the other man next to him. Danny brought consistency just being who he was, and casual was not a word that would ever be associated with him. If Danny were going to be with Steve, it was going to be the full, every night kind of deal. Truth be told, Steve was surprised at how quickly Danny had been okay with the little things - things that included progressively intense kisses (always mindful of his still tender cheek), nights spent tucked under Steve’s arm on the sofa as they watched a game or played one, and squabbling over the appropriate length of time a shower should be.
“It’s not bullshit, Danny,” Steve said quietly. It would strike him sometimes, low and deep in his belly, how close he’d come to never having this indefinable thing he had. “And I won’t stop.”
Steve twisted to face Danny, lifting his right hand and tracing the back of his thumb gently down the fading bruise. From a cop’s perspective, he knew Danny understood why he, Chin and Kono wouldn’t let up until justice was served, but from the standpoint of victim - a term he would balk at being labeled - he seemed more inclined to be grateful to have survived, to have gotten Steve out of it, and to count all of that as victory enough.
Danny closed his eyes, tipped his head against the back of the sofa and slid away from Steve’s hand.
“Until we find what we need to get whoever did that to you or you remember, this is going to be on my mind. You know it.”
“I do. I know you, you stubborn bastard, and for that reason alone I wish I could remember beyond you being a complete shithead,” Danny said with a sigh. “And don’t give me that look.”
“I don’t have a look.”
“Babe, you have so many looks.” Danny lifted his head, opened his eyes and then narrowed them. “Yep, there it is. I get it. I already told you I understand exactly why you lashed out and I also told you I’d been there, done that in a previous point in my life. Denial, rivers in Egypt, and missing clue buses, yeah? So please, stop. I punched you for it once, don’t make me do it again.”
“I never knew you were so romantic.” This was their no-fly zone, apparently, and Danny was always the same about it - goddamned annoying. And right, which was also annoying. “I’ll bet you write the nicest poetry.”
“I’m the second coming of William Fucking Shakespeare,” Danny said. He stared at Steve intently. His attention flicked between Steve’s eyes and his mouth, his tongue poking out to wet his lips. “Oh, speaking of coming…”
Suddenly drymouthed and damn, really, Steve didn’t understand how he’d been so oblivious for so long considering how amped up he was about make-out sessions and hand jobs, all they’d accomplished as far as the physicality of them as a them went.
“Yeah?” Steve asked. “You’re up for it?”
“Not right this very second, but with a few tried and true metho-”
Danny, as it turned out, was prone to bad puns. Steve silenced him the way he now knew worked the best, by kissing him mid-word, when Danny’s tongue was already limber and in motion. He had more than an inkling, by the way Danny never needed a period of adjustment between talking and kissing, that he had stacked the deck and therefore always knew Steve’s play for precisely what it was. That flippy feeling also happened in those moments he realized how attuned to him Danny was, and the proof that this had been in the works for a long time even if he’d been too obtuse to know it.
But the flippy feeling didn’t last now, turned quickly into deep need and wantwantwant. Always aware of the bruise and all that could go wrong, Steve moved with caution, his hands merely tracing against Danny’s back and up to the nape of his neck. He tipped Danny’s head just so, to minimize the chances of accidentally bumping into the injured cheek. Danny made a frustrated noise at the back of his throat at the careful pace, broke from Steve’s hand and in half a second was straddled over Steve’s lap and grinding down without any finesse at all.
“I’m not made of porcelain, McGarrett,” Danny grumbled into his left ear, then sucked on the lobe for a second. “Let’s fucking do this if we’re gonna.”
Any blood still going to his brain headed south, and that was another thing Danny did for him without even knowing it. Danny got him out of his head. Steve slid his arms back around Danny’s back, then lower to snug under one fine, fine ass. Once his hold was secure, he stood and smirked at the surprised, possibly affronted, noise Danny made at being picked up so easily. Then Danny simply wrapped his legs around Steve’s lower back and held on tight, moaned at the friction.
“Jesus, you’re a caveman.”
Danny stuck his tongue in Steve’s mouth, removing any sting from the accusation. For a few minutes, Steve stayed right where he was, enjoying the way Danny wriggled against him and the heady heat of the dirty, wet kiss. It didn’t take long for him to start losing a bit of his grip - distraction, need and the fact that Danny was small but not exactly a lightweight - and he headed for the stairs. He moved up them as quickly as he could without tripping, stumbled slightly into the bedroom, where Danny promptly unhooked his legs, extricated himself from Steve’s grasp and had his shirt off in a flash.
“Eager,” Steve said. He laughed at Danny’s dramatic eyeroll and scathing look at his own obvious erection. He pulled the T-shirt over his head, enthralled at how Danny had somehow gotten totally naked and was stretched out, waiting. Pretty spry for an injured guy. “Unf.”
Steve had no plan. He hadn’t once considered doing the whole cheesy rose-petals-strewn-about for their first time more elaborate than a basic grope and tug, but he also knew he had wanted it to go at a certain pace and this wasn’t it. Somehow, he didn’t give a damn. He shimmied out of his pants and crawled onto the bed. He grinned as Danny spread his legs, laughed when Danny again rolled his eyes. He couldn’t remember a time he’d had so much genuine fun in bed.
He settled in between Danny’s legs, leaned to kiss him again. He ignored Danny’s attempts to intensify, keeping it slow and sweet. Steve knew it the moment Danny gave in and relaxed into things. He felt Danny’s hands stroke along his sides, down his back and latch on his ass, drawing him down. Their cocks brushed against each other, and both of them moaned in unison. Steve shifted, tried to get them slotted better. He broke the kiss, breathless, and fumbled for the nightstand drawer. He pulled out the lube.
Danny kept his movements slight, just barely undulating against Steve. This need to go fast and slow all at once made Steve’s hands clumsy as he tried to open the lube. He dropped it twice after Danny’s fingers sought and found his entrance, ran a light circle around it.
“Jesus,” Steve gasped, nerve endings on fire. “You…”
He finally got the lube open, fucking fancy bottle wasn’t his preference, and squirted some into his right hand, tossed the bottle aside. Steve wrinkled his nose at the smell, but since he hadn’t replaced the bottle they’d already gone through, this was all he had to work with. Despite Danny’s wandering fingers, he didn’t think they were quite at the penetrative point yet. His dick throbbed at the idea, though. He wrapped his hand around Danny, stroked him a few times to distribute the lube. Instead of bucking into the touch, though, Danny first froze beneath him and then abruptly tried to pull away.
“What the hell is that?” Danny asked, loud and oddly monotone.
“What?” Steve raised his hands and recoiled, confused by the sudden change in mood. He studied Danny’s face, noted that he’d gone pale. “Danny, what’s wrong?”
“That smell, it’s…”
“Coconut. It’s the flavored stuff,” Steve said.
“Flavored. Why?”
“It was a gift. A misguided terrible gift someone I’m going to kill gave me. What’s wrong?”
“Ohhh, shit.” Danny touched the scabbed cut on his cheekbone and gazed at Steve, but his eyes seemed almost vacant. Like he wasn’t really there. “It’s … Steve, I…remember.”
Steve scrambled from between Danny’s legs to draw alongside his partner. He pulled Danny into a seated position and hugged him close. All thoughts of sex were gone, his only concern for Danny and the unexpected revelation of something that had dogged him for weeks.
“What? Danny, talk to me. You’re freaking me out here.”
“That day, I was so pissed at you,” Danny said, voice still flat. He turned away, eyes unfocused straight ahead, like a thousand-yard stare. “And then the car pissed me off even more. It was like a slap to the face after being punched all day, you know? I went home, changed and then I needed some air. I didn’t have any idea where I was going, but then I saw I wasn’t far from the Hilton so I figured a drink or two would make it all go away for a few hours.”
Steve rubbed his hand up and down Danny’s bicep, aware there was still enough lube on his palm to make it slick and strange and sickeningly sweet-smelling. He tensed as he waited for the whole story to unfold prepared to dash for his phone, get Chin and Kono on the motherfucker while he made sure Danny was okay. He wasn’t prepared for Danny to start chuckling humorlessly.
“Danny?” he prodded. “Who was it, did you recognize them?”
“Not who. What. Jesus, this is embarrassing. I was minding my own business when I heard something from above. I looked up, and that’s when it got me.” Danny swallowed and looked over at Steve, present again. He appeared to be horrified. “No one did anything to me. A fucking coconut beaned me. A coconut, Steve. I knew this damn island had it in for me. I remember it hurtling at my face and that’s all she wrote, until the hospital.”
Well. Okay. For a second or two, Steve tried to process what Danny had just told him. After that, he couldn’t decide if it was a relief or the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard in his life. He decided on ridiculous relief, and a hysterical laugh threatened to bubble out of him from his gut.
“I swear to all that is good and right with our sex lives, I will castrate you if you laugh right now, Steven,” Danny said, though he’d already kind of laughed himself. “I lost two days of my life because of a coconut.”
It wasn’t funny, not the actual incident. The signs posted warning of falling coconuts were there for a reason, after all. At the same time, it was hilarious in that totally irrational it’s-all-over-closure kind of way, and in that it was like Danny’s hatred for the islands had come back to bite him in vivid, brutal terms. Steve was a mess of emotions again, and it was difficult to sift through them. But he swallowed the unfunny funniness, and the song that popped, unbidden, into his head.
“Hey, I’m not laughing,” Steve said. “You lost two days and I lost you for those same days. That was nothing like funny to me, Danny. At least now we know, and we don’t have to feel like it could happen again at any moment.”
The truth in that statement struck him. Behind the need to find justice for what had happened to Danny, there really had been an element of fear that it truly had been someone in his past seeking to hurt him. Steve realized, though, what a hidden weight that had been. He couldn’t rule it out in the future, though, and he had to take steps to ensure Danny was safe, always.
“Okay, stop with that,” Danny murmured, wriggling free from him and resuming a straddled position in his lap. His hands explored Steve, already well aware of hot spots. He tweaked a nipple, leaned in and bit tenderly at the scar on Steve’s collarbone. “Maybe we need to refocus on what we were doing before. Reaffirming life.”
Now that, Steve could get behind.
Steve smiled as he watched Danny shut down his office, lock up confidential files and toss him a few semi-impatient looks. He’d done all that an hour ago. Sue him, he wasn’t actually trying to be subtle. He stood up easily and met Danny by the tech table.
“You’re so transparent, babe,” Danny said. He caught Chin and Kono’s attention, waved to them both. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“What can I say? I have important things to do tonight,” Steve said, smug. “You know.”
“I can see my mistake was not putting anything in writing. Workplace etiquette, McGarrett.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said. He caught Chin’s eye, shared a smile and a knowing nod. “It’s not like anyone cares.”
They sauntered out to the Camaro, where Steve took his customary place behind the wheel. He waited until they got going for a bit, then casually turned on the stereo. Instantly, the small interior was filled with the sound of a simple, recognizable guitar riff and Danny spluttered.
“Seriously. You seriously…” Danny said just as Harry Nilsson started singing and drowned him out. He slammed his hand against the stereo before Harry got to the word dime. He twisted in his seat, eyes flashing with heat and humor. “I just hate you so much sometimes and I am going to make you pay for this.”
Steve choked on his laughter, because Danny said one thing, but he had managed to get his hand deep into Steve’s lap and had him by his … coconuts.
“If you call me in the morning, I’ll tell you what to do,” Steve said, voice rough.
Danny burst into a happy giggle and proceeded to shift his hand and rub Steve just to the edge, all the way home.
By some miracle - maybe it was fate - Steve managed to keep them on the road they had clearly always been meant to be on together.
Author: superbadgirl/SBG
Characters: Steve, Danny, Chin, Kono, Catherine
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Genre: slash, angst, H/C
Rating: PG-13
Word-count: @20,000 total
Spoilers: None, really.
Warnings:
Summary: In a bad moment, Steve wishes something bad to befall Danny. When it does, it puts him on the suspect list.
AN: Really, this is where I intended to go all along, only didn't quite get there. And I'm sorry. ;)
(Read in entirety on on AO3)
Chapter 1 on LJ
Chapter 2 on LJ
(The Road So Far)
In a strange and very specific way he thought Danny being injured was a good thing, not that Steve would ever say so out loud. He’d … learned some lessons lately and there was simply no way he’d let his mouth get the better of him again. Not in that way, at least. He smiled and rubbed his fingertips along his lower lip, which had that morning been bitten by a certain enthusiastic detective who formerly belonged to New Jersey but was now his and his alone. He supposed it was more accurate to say that Danny’s mouth had gotten the better of him, there.
No, he wasn’t glad Danny had been hurt. It was just that he was a leap headfirst kind of guy and Danny was more inclined to dip a toe in, both for work and play situations; had Danny not had lingering headaches and limited mobility of his face, Steve would probably have been all over him the moment he knew he could. He winced at the memory of how livid the bruises had been at first, not to mention the swelling. He didn’t tend to be all or nothing unless it really mattered and, well, to say Danny really mattered was a major understatement. He was embarrassed that it had taken nearly losing out to realize that, though Danny hadn’t made him feel like much of a chump for his density.
Anyway, the time Danny had needed to recuperate allowed for them to explore exactly what it was they meant to each other. It also afforded them the opportunity to set the ground rules and expectations Danny seemed to thrive on, and also solidified in Steve’s mind that this detour of his was more like a permanent re-direct. A few days in, when Danny had climbed into bed with him like they’d always shared one, he knew there was no going back and that slow for them might seem pretty fast for anyone else. He couldn’t picture himself taking any other route. For all intents and purposes, he’d put up a road closed sign behind him.
He frowned a bit at the reminder of Catherine, and that she had taken immediate action of her own in a request for reassignment. He could have done better with her, and that was his only regret. He hoped that someday she’d forgive him, even if she never wanted to consider him a friend again. It was awful and telling, though, that his regret with Cath was a tiny pothole in the highway of his happiness.
Jesus, he was turning into a sap. He’d only officially been with Danny such a short time, and already he’d become a great big giant ball of mush. Chances were, he’d always been and had simply been too obtuse to realize it.
Steve’s attempt to make it look like he was doing anything other than alternating his attention between the clock and Danny, across the offices and through open blinds, was flimsy. It was fantastic to have Danny back to work, but it had been a long day and he was chomping at the bit to get his partner home, and only nominally because Danny looked exhausted. He’d ever really felt the pull of home over work in previous relationships, such as they were, and it gave him a weird flippy feeling in his gut. That was another thing he wouldn’t mention out loud, but for different reasons - he’d never hear the end of it from Danny, who he suspected was no stranger to a similar feeling himself. He grinned wider. It seemed likely these near giddy feelings would eventually fade, when the newness of him and Danny faded, so he was fully on board with enjoying the proverbial honeymoon phase. Though if he considered it, the only thing that had really changed was the more physical aspect to their relationship. He didn’t see that part losing its appeal anytime soon.
When Danny shot him an exasperated glare, Steve straightened from the awkward bendy angle he had to pitch himself at to see the other man. He shrugged and glanced at the clock instead. He was being what Danny would call a goof, but he didn’t care. He’d been waiting a while to unleash a minor prank that he’d thought of immediately after he’d heard the story, and it finally seemed like enough time had passed that the somewhat black humor wouldn’t be too inappropriate. Danny’s first day back off of desk duty was a pivotal day. Danny might appreciate it.
Or, Danny would kill him.
The lack of evidence continued to plague the case. The lab had gotten nothing from Danny’s clothes and he had no defensive wounds to indicate any kind of struggle. The small but ugly cut on his cheek didn’t contain any kind of unique marker to indicate a piece of jewelry. There was as there had been the whole time Danny was gone: nothing. Danny’s return to them didn’t mean they were willing to let it go, though all of them knew they’d have to bump it to the back burner if a more immediate need cropped up. It was, however, never out of mind. As far as Steve was concerned, every time he looked at Danny’s bruised face or saw him wince when he yawned or coughed or sneezed, his determination resurged. Someone had to pay for doing that.
Danny’s memory of the events immediately preceding and following the blow to his face hadn’t returned. Doctor Rampart and the several other opinions Steve had insisted upon all indicated that was normal. Some people remembered the trauma eventually, usually in bits and pieces, and some just didn’t. Any hit hard enough to induce unconsciousness came with any number of possible complications, and if the guess that Danny had been hit just prior to Elmore Flats discovering him and pilfering his wallet, that meant his head injury had gone untreated for over forty-eight hours.
“Come on,” Danny said, tugging at Steve’s shirtsleeve. “I can tell you’ve gone all Vengeance Will Be Mine again, and I’m too tired for that bullshit. Let’s call it a night.”
It was amazing the ease with which they’d developed comfortable routines. After a week and a few days of sharing a bed with Danny, just to sleep, Steve wasn’t sure he’d be able to rest without the other man next to him. Danny brought consistency just being who he was, and casual was not a word that would ever be associated with him. If Danny were going to be with Steve, it was going to be the full, every night kind of deal. Truth be told, Steve was surprised at how quickly Danny had been okay with the little things - things that included progressively intense kisses (always mindful of his still tender cheek), nights spent tucked under Steve’s arm on the sofa as they watched a game or played one, and squabbling over the appropriate length of time a shower should be.
“It’s not bullshit, Danny,” Steve said quietly. It would strike him sometimes, low and deep in his belly, how close he’d come to never having this indefinable thing he had. “And I won’t stop.”
Steve twisted to face Danny, lifting his right hand and tracing the back of his thumb gently down the fading bruise. From a cop’s perspective, he knew Danny understood why he, Chin and Kono wouldn’t let up until justice was served, but from the standpoint of victim - a term he would balk at being labeled - he seemed more inclined to be grateful to have survived, to have gotten Steve out of it, and to count all of that as victory enough.
Danny closed his eyes, tipped his head against the back of the sofa and slid away from Steve’s hand.
“Until we find what we need to get whoever did that to you or you remember, this is going to be on my mind. You know it.”
“I do. I know you, you stubborn bastard, and for that reason alone I wish I could remember beyond you being a complete shithead,” Danny said with a sigh. “And don’t give me that look.”
“I don’t have a look.”
“Babe, you have so many looks.” Danny lifted his head, opened his eyes and then narrowed them. “Yep, there it is. I get it. I already told you I understand exactly why you lashed out and I also told you I’d been there, done that in a previous point in my life. Denial, rivers in Egypt, and missing clue buses, yeah? So please, stop. I punched you for it once, don’t make me do it again.”
“I never knew you were so romantic.” This was their no-fly zone, apparently, and Danny was always the same about it - goddamned annoying. And right, which was also annoying. “I’ll bet you write the nicest poetry.”
“I’m the second coming of William Fucking Shakespeare,” Danny said. He stared at Steve intently. His attention flicked between Steve’s eyes and his mouth, his tongue poking out to wet his lips. “Oh, speaking of coming…”
Suddenly drymouthed and damn, really, Steve didn’t understand how he’d been so oblivious for so long considering how amped up he was about make-out sessions and hand jobs, all they’d accomplished as far as the physicality of them as a them went.
“Yeah?” Steve asked. “You’re up for it?”
“Not right this very second, but with a few tried and true metho-”
Danny, as it turned out, was prone to bad puns. Steve silenced him the way he now knew worked the best, by kissing him mid-word, when Danny’s tongue was already limber and in motion. He had more than an inkling, by the way Danny never needed a period of adjustment between talking and kissing, that he had stacked the deck and therefore always knew Steve’s play for precisely what it was. That flippy feeling also happened in those moments he realized how attuned to him Danny was, and the proof that this had been in the works for a long time even if he’d been too obtuse to know it.
But the flippy feeling didn’t last now, turned quickly into deep need and wantwantwant. Always aware of the bruise and all that could go wrong, Steve moved with caution, his hands merely tracing against Danny’s back and up to the nape of his neck. He tipped Danny’s head just so, to minimize the chances of accidentally bumping into the injured cheek. Danny made a frustrated noise at the back of his throat at the careful pace, broke from Steve’s hand and in half a second was straddled over Steve’s lap and grinding down without any finesse at all.
“I’m not made of porcelain, McGarrett,” Danny grumbled into his left ear, then sucked on the lobe for a second. “Let’s fucking do this if we’re gonna.”
Any blood still going to his brain headed south, and that was another thing Danny did for him without even knowing it. Danny got him out of his head. Steve slid his arms back around Danny’s back, then lower to snug under one fine, fine ass. Once his hold was secure, he stood and smirked at the surprised, possibly affronted, noise Danny made at being picked up so easily. Then Danny simply wrapped his legs around Steve’s lower back and held on tight, moaned at the friction.
“Jesus, you’re a caveman.”
Danny stuck his tongue in Steve’s mouth, removing any sting from the accusation. For a few minutes, Steve stayed right where he was, enjoying the way Danny wriggled against him and the heady heat of the dirty, wet kiss. It didn’t take long for him to start losing a bit of his grip - distraction, need and the fact that Danny was small but not exactly a lightweight - and he headed for the stairs. He moved up them as quickly as he could without tripping, stumbled slightly into the bedroom, where Danny promptly unhooked his legs, extricated himself from Steve’s grasp and had his shirt off in a flash.
“Eager,” Steve said. He laughed at Danny’s dramatic eyeroll and scathing look at his own obvious erection. He pulled the T-shirt over his head, enthralled at how Danny had somehow gotten totally naked and was stretched out, waiting. Pretty spry for an injured guy. “Unf.”
Steve had no plan. He hadn’t once considered doing the whole cheesy rose-petals-strewn-about for their first time more elaborate than a basic grope and tug, but he also knew he had wanted it to go at a certain pace and this wasn’t it. Somehow, he didn’t give a damn. He shimmied out of his pants and crawled onto the bed. He grinned as Danny spread his legs, laughed when Danny again rolled his eyes. He couldn’t remember a time he’d had so much genuine fun in bed.
He settled in between Danny’s legs, leaned to kiss him again. He ignored Danny’s attempts to intensify, keeping it slow and sweet. Steve knew it the moment Danny gave in and relaxed into things. He felt Danny’s hands stroke along his sides, down his back and latch on his ass, drawing him down. Their cocks brushed against each other, and both of them moaned in unison. Steve shifted, tried to get them slotted better. He broke the kiss, breathless, and fumbled for the nightstand drawer. He pulled out the lube.
Danny kept his movements slight, just barely undulating against Steve. This need to go fast and slow all at once made Steve’s hands clumsy as he tried to open the lube. He dropped it twice after Danny’s fingers sought and found his entrance, ran a light circle around it.
“Jesus,” Steve gasped, nerve endings on fire. “You…”
He finally got the lube open, fucking fancy bottle wasn’t his preference, and squirted some into his right hand, tossed the bottle aside. Steve wrinkled his nose at the smell, but since he hadn’t replaced the bottle they’d already gone through, this was all he had to work with. Despite Danny’s wandering fingers, he didn’t think they were quite at the penetrative point yet. His dick throbbed at the idea, though. He wrapped his hand around Danny, stroked him a few times to distribute the lube. Instead of bucking into the touch, though, Danny first froze beneath him and then abruptly tried to pull away.
“What the hell is that?” Danny asked, loud and oddly monotone.
“What?” Steve raised his hands and recoiled, confused by the sudden change in mood. He studied Danny’s face, noted that he’d gone pale. “Danny, what’s wrong?”
“That smell, it’s…”
“Coconut. It’s the flavored stuff,” Steve said.
“Flavored. Why?”
“It was a gift. A misguided terrible gift someone I’m going to kill gave me. What’s wrong?”
“Ohhh, shit.” Danny touched the scabbed cut on his cheekbone and gazed at Steve, but his eyes seemed almost vacant. Like he wasn’t really there. “It’s … Steve, I…remember.”
Steve scrambled from between Danny’s legs to draw alongside his partner. He pulled Danny into a seated position and hugged him close. All thoughts of sex were gone, his only concern for Danny and the unexpected revelation of something that had dogged him for weeks.
“What? Danny, talk to me. You’re freaking me out here.”
“That day, I was so pissed at you,” Danny said, voice still flat. He turned away, eyes unfocused straight ahead, like a thousand-yard stare. “And then the car pissed me off even more. It was like a slap to the face after being punched all day, you know? I went home, changed and then I needed some air. I didn’t have any idea where I was going, but then I saw I wasn’t far from the Hilton so I figured a drink or two would make it all go away for a few hours.”
Steve rubbed his hand up and down Danny’s bicep, aware there was still enough lube on his palm to make it slick and strange and sickeningly sweet-smelling. He tensed as he waited for the whole story to unfold prepared to dash for his phone, get Chin and Kono on the motherfucker while he made sure Danny was okay. He wasn’t prepared for Danny to start chuckling humorlessly.
“Danny?” he prodded. “Who was it, did you recognize them?”
“Not who. What. Jesus, this is embarrassing. I was minding my own business when I heard something from above. I looked up, and that’s when it got me.” Danny swallowed and looked over at Steve, present again. He appeared to be horrified. “No one did anything to me. A fucking coconut beaned me. A coconut, Steve. I knew this damn island had it in for me. I remember it hurtling at my face and that’s all she wrote, until the hospital.”
Well. Okay. For a second or two, Steve tried to process what Danny had just told him. After that, he couldn’t decide if it was a relief or the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard in his life. He decided on ridiculous relief, and a hysterical laugh threatened to bubble out of him from his gut.
“I swear to all that is good and right with our sex lives, I will castrate you if you laugh right now, Steven,” Danny said, though he’d already kind of laughed himself. “I lost two days of my life because of a coconut.”
It wasn’t funny, not the actual incident. The signs posted warning of falling coconuts were there for a reason, after all. At the same time, it was hilarious in that totally irrational it’s-all-over-closure kind of way, and in that it was like Danny’s hatred for the islands had come back to bite him in vivid, brutal terms. Steve was a mess of emotions again, and it was difficult to sift through them. But he swallowed the unfunny funniness, and the song that popped, unbidden, into his head.
“Hey, I’m not laughing,” Steve said. “You lost two days and I lost you for those same days. That was nothing like funny to me, Danny. At least now we know, and we don’t have to feel like it could happen again at any moment.”
The truth in that statement struck him. Behind the need to find justice for what had happened to Danny, there really had been an element of fear that it truly had been someone in his past seeking to hurt him. Steve realized, though, what a hidden weight that had been. He couldn’t rule it out in the future, though, and he had to take steps to ensure Danny was safe, always.
“Okay, stop with that,” Danny murmured, wriggling free from him and resuming a straddled position in his lap. His hands explored Steve, already well aware of hot spots. He tweaked a nipple, leaned in and bit tenderly at the scar on Steve’s collarbone. “Maybe we need to refocus on what we were doing before. Reaffirming life.”
Now that, Steve could get behind.
Steve smiled as he watched Danny shut down his office, lock up confidential files and toss him a few semi-impatient looks. He’d done all that an hour ago. Sue him, he wasn’t actually trying to be subtle. He stood up easily and met Danny by the tech table.
“You’re so transparent, babe,” Danny said. He caught Chin and Kono’s attention, waved to them both. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“What can I say? I have important things to do tonight,” Steve said, smug. “You know.”
“I can see my mistake was not putting anything in writing. Workplace etiquette, McGarrett.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said. He caught Chin’s eye, shared a smile and a knowing nod. “It’s not like anyone cares.”
They sauntered out to the Camaro, where Steve took his customary place behind the wheel. He waited until they got going for a bit, then casually turned on the stereo. Instantly, the small interior was filled with the sound of a simple, recognizable guitar riff and Danny spluttered.
“Seriously. You seriously…” Danny said just as Harry Nilsson started singing and drowned him out. He slammed his hand against the stereo before Harry got to the word dime. He twisted in his seat, eyes flashing with heat and humor. “I just hate you so much sometimes and I am going to make you pay for this.”
Steve choked on his laughter, because Danny said one thing, but he had managed to get his hand deep into Steve’s lap and had him by his … coconuts.
“If you call me in the morning, I’ll tell you what to do,” Steve said, voice rough.
Danny burst into a happy giggle and proceeded to shift his hand and rub Steve just to the edge, all the way home.
By some miracle - maybe it was fate - Steve managed to keep them on the road they had clearly always been meant to be on together.