A moonlit night, a-wandering (Steve/Danny)
So I was all, whee, 5 Acts Meme, I'm gonna write some porn. But only one of my fills ended up being particularly porny at all (the Camelot het I posted last week). The others were either schmoopy or angsty (if still explicit). *facepalm* Here's the schmoopy one. It's sick!Steve, and there's a lovely reciprocal sick!Danny fic by norgbelulah, here
Title: A moonlit night, a-wandering.
Rating: hard R
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Genre: h/c.
Warnings: fever sex
Word Count:~1.3K
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit.
a/n: written for norgabelulah for the 5 Acts Meme. The act was: fever.
Summary: Add this to the crazy shit Steve McGarrett got up to when he was running a temperature.
Steve was wandering again.
Danny woke with a start and found the sheets rumpled and empty beside him. Biting off a curse and squashing the niggle of worry in his stomach, he swung himself out of bed, peered into the dark master bath, and then, moving more quickly, padded downstairs. No Steve-but the door to the beach side of the house was open.
Niggle increasing in bandwidth, he stepped outside. And there was Steve, clad only in boxers, standing ankle deep in the calm ocean. The moonlight flushed the bandages around his left shoulder bright white.
Cursing now in earnest, though still under his breath, Danny grabbed a discarded towel off one of the chairs and headed towards him-slowly, because he’d learned the hard way not to spook Steve when he was in like this. His free hand brushed over the sore spot on his jaw.
“Steve,” he said when he got close enough, keeping his tone neutral. “What’s going on, babe?”
“Hey, Danno.” Steve turned his head and smiled. And even though Steve was bone pale and shiny-eyed, his smile as loopy as a carnival ride, Danny breathed a sigh of relief when Steve said his name. At least this wasn’t going to be like Tuesday, when Steve had taken him for some kind of military interrogator, had glared his “I’m a motherfucking SEAL, motherfucker” glare at Danny for what felt like hours, silent except for barked denials in what Danny thought was Korean, and refused to come out of the coat closet until he’d finally collapsed in a pool of sweat in Danny’s arms.
That had been the first time they’d switched antibiotics for the stubborn infection in Steve’s wounded shoulder. The night that resulted in the bruise on Danny’s jaw had been the second. Both drugs had seemed like they were going to do the trick for a day or so. But now here they were again.
Danny reached the waterline, cool ocean lapping around his toes. He was near enough to put a hand on the small of Steve’s bare back, and was unsurprised to find it viciously hot, for all Steve was standing in the water, and dry, despite the humidity of the night.
“And the new stuff isn’t doing shit either, is it?” he murmured.
“Hmmm?” Steve kept the loopy grin going, leaning into Danny a bit.
“I said, what’re you doing out here, babe?”
“Just gonna take a quick swim,” Steve said matter-of-factly.
“Yeah. Okay. No. First of all, you can’t get those dressings wet.” again. “And second, you’re spiking a nasty fever-the only thing you’re doing is coming back inside to lie down.”
Steve furrowed his brow, considering the idea, then shook his head. “Uh-uh. Too hot.”
“Yeah, I know, you’re hot. I know it sucks.” Danny was suddenly exhausted. He couldn’t think of anything else to do but try the wheedling tone that barely even worked on Gracie anymore. “Just-just come on inside and I’ll get you a big glass of water and a wet cloth-whaddaya say?”
And tomorrow he was taking Steve right back to the hospital, he promised himself, and letting them hook him up to an IV drip like they’d wanted to do in the first place. Preferably while Steve was in a medically-induced coma. Because another night like this, and Danny was going to end up on sick leave himself.
He tugged on Steve’s good arm as gently as he could, refusing to consider what would happen if Steve resisted, plunged into the sea anyway. Danny could swim, sure, but it was pretty clear that even an incapacitated Steve could outmaneuver him in the water.
Great, he thought, I’ll be calling the fucking Coast Guard next.
But Steve came. He let Danny throw the towel around his shoulders, and even let him keep a hand around the burning skin of his bicep as they made their graceless way towards the house.
A few steps from the door, though, Steve ground to a halt. He pulled Danny around until they were face to face.
“Oh for chrissakes, what is it now?” Danny sputtered, a burst of irritation welling up inside him at the ongoing ridiculousness of the week.
But then he caught a glimpse of Steve’s face. The moon was bright enough that he could see how opened up he was, eyes wide and liquid. He was looking at Danny as if Danny were the most precious thing in the world.
Danny wished he could blame it on illness, but he couldn’t. Steve looked at him that way often enough even when he was at the peak of health. It did something to Danny-broke down every defense he’d ever pretended to have. And who was he kidding? There was no limit to the sleepless nights he’d go through to see that look on that face. For this man.
“C’m here,” Steve said hoarsely. He hooked his good arm around Danny’s waist and pulled him in so that their bodies were flush against each other, Steve’s hipbones digging into Danny’s belly.
Steve nuzzled into Danny’s hair and rubbed his bristled cheek along Danny’s. It was like being mauled by a furnace, the heat coming off Steve outpacing the warmth of the night.
“Danny,” Steve whispered into his ear, his breath fever-hot and sour from too much medicine and too much time in bed. “Danny.”
It should have been awful-it was awful, awkward, and surely not the bed rest the doctors had prescribed. But at the same time it wasn’t. It was good, right somehow, to have Steve in his arms after the long, difficult week, no matter what state he was in. Danny slid his arms under the towel and ran light caresses up Steve’s back, careful to avoid tender areas around his wound. And when Steve leaned down and kissed him, he didn’t resist. No, God help him, he dove into the sauna-richness of Steve’s mouth like it was the make-out session he’d been waiting for his whole life.
When he felt Steve hardening against him, Danny almost laughed. Add that to the crazy shit Steve McGarrett got up to when he was running a temperature, huh? At least it was less dangerous than a lot of the other stunts Steve had pulled recently. Pleasurable, even, Danny realized, as he felt his own cock responding to the urgent rock and grind of Steve’s hips.
And it was probably nine kinds of wrong-because what kind of person lets their sick-as-an-dog partner get his rocks off in the night air?-but Danny helped things along, pushed Steve’s boxers down and took his ember-hot dick in hand. He lost himself for a while in the familiar play of flesh, even if the thermostat on this flesh was completely out of whack, relishing the sweet friction of Steve’s sex against his own. But the fever must have put Steve on a hair trigger, because almost without warning, his movements lost their rhythm, and he came abruptly over Danny’s hand. The volcano rush of it pushed Danny over the edge, too.
Danny staggered a little as Steve’s full weight bore down on him, the orgasm clearly ending whatever weird momentum had carried him this far. Danny cast about for the nearest patio chair and lowered a now almost boneless Steve into it, then cleaned them both off as best he could with the towel. By the time he was done, Steve was shivering hard, blinking at him miserably.
“I’m sorry, man,” he said soberly, clearly settling back into an uncomfortable awareness of the world. “I don’t know what got into me.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Danny managed to get Steve to his feet, pointed him towards the house. “But believe you me, that is the only kind of delirium you are allowed from now on.”
end
Title: A moonlit night, a-wandering.
Rating: hard R
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Genre: h/c.
Warnings: fever sex
Word Count:~1.3K
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit.
a/n: written for norgabelulah for the 5 Acts Meme. The act was: fever.
Summary: Add this to the crazy shit Steve McGarrett got up to when he was running a temperature.
Steve was wandering again.
Danny woke with a start and found the sheets rumpled and empty beside him. Biting off a curse and squashing the niggle of worry in his stomach, he swung himself out of bed, peered into the dark master bath, and then, moving more quickly, padded downstairs. No Steve-but the door to the beach side of the house was open.
Niggle increasing in bandwidth, he stepped outside. And there was Steve, clad only in boxers, standing ankle deep in the calm ocean. The moonlight flushed the bandages around his left shoulder bright white.
Cursing now in earnest, though still under his breath, Danny grabbed a discarded towel off one of the chairs and headed towards him-slowly, because he’d learned the hard way not to spook Steve when he was in like this. His free hand brushed over the sore spot on his jaw.
“Steve,” he said when he got close enough, keeping his tone neutral. “What’s going on, babe?”
“Hey, Danno.” Steve turned his head and smiled. And even though Steve was bone pale and shiny-eyed, his smile as loopy as a carnival ride, Danny breathed a sigh of relief when Steve said his name. At least this wasn’t going to be like Tuesday, when Steve had taken him for some kind of military interrogator, had glared his “I’m a motherfucking SEAL, motherfucker” glare at Danny for what felt like hours, silent except for barked denials in what Danny thought was Korean, and refused to come out of the coat closet until he’d finally collapsed in a pool of sweat in Danny’s arms.
That had been the first time they’d switched antibiotics for the stubborn infection in Steve’s wounded shoulder. The night that resulted in the bruise on Danny’s jaw had been the second. Both drugs had seemed like they were going to do the trick for a day or so. But now here they were again.
Danny reached the waterline, cool ocean lapping around his toes. He was near enough to put a hand on the small of Steve’s bare back, and was unsurprised to find it viciously hot, for all Steve was standing in the water, and dry, despite the humidity of the night.
“And the new stuff isn’t doing shit either, is it?” he murmured.
“Hmmm?” Steve kept the loopy grin going, leaning into Danny a bit.
“I said, what’re you doing out here, babe?”
“Just gonna take a quick swim,” Steve said matter-of-factly.
“Yeah. Okay. No. First of all, you can’t get those dressings wet.” again. “And second, you’re spiking a nasty fever-the only thing you’re doing is coming back inside to lie down.”
Steve furrowed his brow, considering the idea, then shook his head. “Uh-uh. Too hot.”
“Yeah, I know, you’re hot. I know it sucks.” Danny was suddenly exhausted. He couldn’t think of anything else to do but try the wheedling tone that barely even worked on Gracie anymore. “Just-just come on inside and I’ll get you a big glass of water and a wet cloth-whaddaya say?”
And tomorrow he was taking Steve right back to the hospital, he promised himself, and letting them hook him up to an IV drip like they’d wanted to do in the first place. Preferably while Steve was in a medically-induced coma. Because another night like this, and Danny was going to end up on sick leave himself.
He tugged on Steve’s good arm as gently as he could, refusing to consider what would happen if Steve resisted, plunged into the sea anyway. Danny could swim, sure, but it was pretty clear that even an incapacitated Steve could outmaneuver him in the water.
Great, he thought, I’ll be calling the fucking Coast Guard next.
But Steve came. He let Danny throw the towel around his shoulders, and even let him keep a hand around the burning skin of his bicep as they made their graceless way towards the house.
A few steps from the door, though, Steve ground to a halt. He pulled Danny around until they were face to face.
“Oh for chrissakes, what is it now?” Danny sputtered, a burst of irritation welling up inside him at the ongoing ridiculousness of the week.
But then he caught a glimpse of Steve’s face. The moon was bright enough that he could see how opened up he was, eyes wide and liquid. He was looking at Danny as if Danny were the most precious thing in the world.
Danny wished he could blame it on illness, but he couldn’t. Steve looked at him that way often enough even when he was at the peak of health. It did something to Danny-broke down every defense he’d ever pretended to have. And who was he kidding? There was no limit to the sleepless nights he’d go through to see that look on that face. For this man.
“C’m here,” Steve said hoarsely. He hooked his good arm around Danny’s waist and pulled him in so that their bodies were flush against each other, Steve’s hipbones digging into Danny’s belly.
Steve nuzzled into Danny’s hair and rubbed his bristled cheek along Danny’s. It was like being mauled by a furnace, the heat coming off Steve outpacing the warmth of the night.
“Danny,” Steve whispered into his ear, his breath fever-hot and sour from too much medicine and too much time in bed. “Danny.”
It should have been awful-it was awful, awkward, and surely not the bed rest the doctors had prescribed. But at the same time it wasn’t. It was good, right somehow, to have Steve in his arms after the long, difficult week, no matter what state he was in. Danny slid his arms under the towel and ran light caresses up Steve’s back, careful to avoid tender areas around his wound. And when Steve leaned down and kissed him, he didn’t resist. No, God help him, he dove into the sauna-richness of Steve’s mouth like it was the make-out session he’d been waiting for his whole life.
When he felt Steve hardening against him, Danny almost laughed. Add that to the crazy shit Steve McGarrett got up to when he was running a temperature, huh? At least it was less dangerous than a lot of the other stunts Steve had pulled recently. Pleasurable, even, Danny realized, as he felt his own cock responding to the urgent rock and grind of Steve’s hips.
And it was probably nine kinds of wrong-because what kind of person lets their sick-as-an-dog partner get his rocks off in the night air?-but Danny helped things along, pushed Steve’s boxers down and took his ember-hot dick in hand. He lost himself for a while in the familiar play of flesh, even if the thermostat on this flesh was completely out of whack, relishing the sweet friction of Steve’s sex against his own. But the fever must have put Steve on a hair trigger, because almost without warning, his movements lost their rhythm, and he came abruptly over Danny’s hand. The volcano rush of it pushed Danny over the edge, too.
Danny staggered a little as Steve’s full weight bore down on him, the orgasm clearly ending whatever weird momentum had carried him this far. Danny cast about for the nearest patio chair and lowered a now almost boneless Steve into it, then cleaned them both off as best he could with the towel. By the time he was done, Steve was shivering hard, blinking at him miserably.
“I’m sorry, man,” he said soberly, clearly settling back into an uncomfortable awareness of the world. “I don’t know what got into me.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Danny managed to get Steve to his feet, pointed him towards the house. “But believe you me, that is the only kind of delirium you are allowed from now on.”
end