Danny's been waiting with the largest towel they've got and a disgusting green wheat-something-grass protein shake. He extends the both of them to Steve expectantly. "Warmth and breakfast. Choose which you want first," he instructs with a nod, settling back into the lounging chair that he'd built -- and has built two more of, since.
"Towel. Mmm, thanks," Steve murmurs, setting the bag down on the sand and taking care not to drop it too quickly - it'd be a rookie mistake if the shells broke and managed to slice through the bag, cutting someone in the process.
He strips off the gloves he wears to deal with the oysters themselves and reaches for the towel, rubbing it over his face first before starting in on his arms. Grinning slowly, he leans over Danny as he sits in the chair, doing his best not to drip on him as he brushes cold lips over his forehead.
Danny peers up at Steve expectantly, pulling a face when he ends up getting the chaste forehead kiss. He crosses a leg over the other, rolling up the sleeves of his baseball jersey. "Really?" he deadpans. "That's it? A forehead kiss? What am I, your pre-teen daughter?"
"You saying you want more?" Steve teases, one eyebrow popping up as he absently runs the towel over his front. He tosses it into the other lounging chair seconds before he braces one hand on the armrest of the one Danny's sitting in, leaning over him and tipping his chin up with a few fingers.
"Didn't think you liked the taste of salt water," he adds, pressing cool lips and heated tongue against Danny's in a gentle, grateful kiss.
Danny tips his chin up to lean into the kiss, a pleased smirk on his face as he draws away and swats at Steve's hip (and the tattoo) with the edges of his towel. "Whatever, I've accepted that I'm marrying into the Aquaman family and thus have no right to complain about salt-water." He gestures to the bag. "You do that often back in Honolulu?"
"This?" Steve casts a glance in the direction of the bag before shaking his head, picking the towel back up and holding it in both hands as he takes a seat in the other lounging chair, reaching for the smoothie Danny's brought him. It's exactly what he needs after an early morning dive, and he takes a long sip.
"No. Dad and I used to fish the old-fashioned way. Nothing like this."
Danny clears his throat as he gets settled in the chair, inclining his gaze lazily towards Steve. "Your uh, your Dad used to take a couple days every now and then to go fishing. Well, I say fishing," he says. "Rumor around the station was that mostly, he took guys out there and plied them with beer. I got an invite, once," he admits, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees.
He hasn't told Steve much of this -- afraid of what the memories of his father would provoke.
"Wondered what he was doing when he'd disappear for that long," Steve says, idly resting one hand on his own leg as the other loosely grips the drink. "From what I can tell, that was something he started back when Mary and I were still in high school, back before Mom's accident. He'd take these little long weekend trips, and she always told us it was some kind of work conference, but I'd do the research. There were never any conferences going on at the times he'd leave."
His face settles into a deep frown. "Sometimes I wonder if he'd take some of the guys he was investigating out there, start the drinks flowing just to see how much they'd start to spill. If that was all part of his strategy."
"I don't think you're that far off," Danny admits, watching Steve over his shoulder with a thoughtful look on his face, bowed in a serious mood. "I tried to stay out of it as much as I could, but he didn't have a partner in those last days and I was the haole they sent to help. He was a good man, Steve. Your Dad, he was..."
Danny musters a smile. "I didn't know him half as well as I wanted to, but I'm glad I got to meet him."
"Yeah," Steve quietly agrees, leaning forward to brace his forearms on the tops of his thighs, bringing his hands together to wrap both around the glass as he bows his head, hunching his shoulders in a reflective movement. When he glances back up, his expression is unreadable, a series of emotions flickering across his features too quickly to be identifiable.
"He uh, he was pretty reserved. I mean, I had no idea that he was looking into some top-level corruption, but..." Danny licks his lips and takes in a deep breath. "Look, babe, there's something I haven't told you about those tapes I watched -- the ones where you got arrested."
"Yeah, well, that makes two of us," Steve admits, punctuating his words with a sigh before Danny's next confession has him straightening up, leaning back, looking at him with a mix of curiosity and tempered warning.
Danny clears his throat to say something that he never, not in his life, expected to be saying aloud. "I'm pretty sure, and by pretty sure, I mean damn sure, that the person your father was investigating for allegiance and an alliance with Wo Fat was the Governor."
It almost feels like the pit of his stomach drops out from underneath him, and Steve grips the glass even tighter, enough to turn his knuckles white as he glances out straight ahead in front of him, not turning his gaze away from the water.
"You're sure. You're absolutely sure," he whispers.
"I'm sorry, but yeah, I watched it with my own two eyes," he admits, pressing his lips together as firmly as he can. "Babe, it wasn't just you in a bad way. You got arrested, so did Kono, Chin got hauled off Five-0 and back to HPD and I was..."
He twists his lips upwards, then back into a frown. "Before the stuff with you, I was on my way back to Jersey."
"You were back to Jersey. For Rachel? Reassigned, what?" Steve asks, finally meeting Danny's eyes with a quiet intensity, a slow burning in his gaze that implies he's all but ready to hear the last of this even if he does want to know more, even if the curiosity is going to keep eating away at him until he's desperate for the truth.
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He strips off the gloves he wears to deal with the oysters themselves and reaches for the towel, rubbing it over his face first before starting in on his arms. Grinning slowly, he leans over Danny as he sits in the chair, doing his best not to drip on him as he brushes cold lips over his forehead.
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"Didn't think you liked the taste of salt water," he adds, pressing cool lips and heated tongue against Danny's in a gentle, grateful kiss.
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"No. Dad and I used to fish the old-fashioned way. Nothing like this."
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He hasn't told Steve much of this -- afraid of what the memories of his father would provoke.
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His face settles into a deep frown. "Sometimes I wonder if he'd take some of the guys he was investigating out there, start the drinks flowing just to see how much they'd start to spill. If that was all part of his strategy."
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Danny musters a smile. "I didn't know him half as well as I wanted to, but I'm glad I got to meet him."
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"Yeah, me too."
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"What about them?"
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"You're sure. You're absolutely sure," he whispers.
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He twists his lips upwards, then back into a frown. "Before the stuff with you, I was on my way back to Jersey."
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"Tell me, Danny," he utters.
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