New fic: Do Your Worst (or just do me), Steve/Danny
Title: Do Your Worst
Author: giddygeek
Pairing: H50, Steve/Danny
Notes: 1300 words. Adult (in a fluffy, kind of porny, self-indulgent sort of way :D). Episode tag for 1x19; assume spoilers, although mild. Many thanks to misspamela for the read-through!
Summary: "I think I could get whatever I wanted out of you right now."
"Babe," Danny says, trying for amused but mostly sounding wrecked, "I gotta tell you that as incredible as this is, I think it falls a little short, maybe just a mile or two hundred miles short, of being an effective interrogation technique."
Steve looks up and Danny groans at the sight of him, all intent and focused, with Danny's cock in his mouth. His tongue cradles the head as he pauses to think about it, then he drags back to speak and Danny gasps, twitching under the heavy weight of Steve's body across his legs, holding him down against the mattress.
"I don't know, Danny," Steve says, mouth wet, trying for a bland expression but his eyes give him away, gleaming with humor. "I think I could get whatever I wanted out of you right now."
"Well, if what you want to get out of me is jizz, sure," Danny says, shrugging his shoulders against Steve's headboard. "If you're thinking you'll be able to probe me for state secrets, then I'm thinking you're out of luck."
Steve slides his thumb across his bottom lip, considering. "You think so, huh?"
"I think the state's secrets are safe with me, even though the state in question is most likely to be Hawaii, because you're a hometown-pride kind of freak," Danny agrees, but he's watching avidly as Steve responds by taking him into his mouth, deep, on one smooth slide. The noises Danny makes seem kind of dramatic, even he has to admit, from a guy who insists he's feeling kind of whatever about getting an absolutely amazing blowjob.
Steve pulls back again, curls his fingers around the base of Danny's cock in a loose grip that just barely strokes, keeps Danny near the edge without being anything like enough to get him off. "You know what, I think I'm gonna take that challenge," Steve says, and the gleam in his eyes goes dark and dangerous even as his smile widens. It's a dive-off-a-cliff, punch-a-shark, set-fire-to-paperwork kind of look if Danny's ever seen one, and he has, he has, he's seen a look like that once a day (and twice on Tuesdays) since this insane partnership started.
"Do your worst," he says, spreading his arms out dramatically. Steve grins at him all smug and confident as he dips his head back down and bites Danny's thigh, lightly, just once; just deep enough to sting a little and leave the faintest hint of a mark. The he licks his way up Danny's cock and takes it into his mouth again, easing down on it one slick, wet inch at a time.
And okay, so Steve's worst--fuck--Steve's worst will no doubt blow Danny's mind.
Danny's hands twist the sheets, clenching and releasing as he pushes his hips up, watches Steve take him even deeper with little effort. Steve's smart, is the problem; he has the kind of sharp mind and driven energy that is just compelled to learn things, to know everything. It's why he's a nuisance and a nag, a genius in the field, and an absolute menace in bed. He knows all of Danny's tells by now, and how to drive him wild in three easy moves. Danny refuses to dignify Steve's opinion that it's just that Danny only needs three moves; he's way more controlled than that, when it's anyone except--
"Tell me how much you love it here," Steve murmurs, looking up at him again.
"No way, Commander," Danny says, voice choked and wanting. "You'll never make me talk."
He has self-control, plenty of it, with anyone except Steve. Who knows him too well now, has learned him too well, has asked a lot of questions like Does this feel good? How about this? until he got Danny figured out. Now Steve knows him down to the way he likes his hips pinned when he's getting blown, how he likes his wrists wrapped up in long fingers when he's getting fucked, how he likes it when Steve pushes back against him when Danny's opening him up with his slick fingers or his slick cock.
Now Steve knows him down to the way he always plays to win, even when losing doesn't matter, is no loss, isn't anything but pleasure.
Steve looks up at Danny and raises an eyebrow, amused by Danny's stubbornness. He glides a finger down the length of Danny's cock, drawing it through the slippery wetness of saliva and pre-come. Then he pushes it inside Danny, slow and deep. He seeks out and finds Danny's prostate easy like he's got a map to all of Danny's hot spots, which he motherfucking might have drawn for himself. Danny knows him too, now, and he's just that kind of guy.
He swallows around the head of Danny's cock and he's grinning, the bastard, mouth stretching in a way Danny knows, recognizes.This one is the smile that comes right as Steve pushes his luck; the smile that comes right before he wins the game.
Steve pulls back again. "Tell me," he says, faking stern and doing a damn good job of it except for the crook of his mouth and the gleam in his eye.
He withdraws his finger when Danny shakes his head, then pushes back into him with two, makes slow and even strokes while he says, "C'mon, Danny, you know what I want to hear." He crooks his fingers deliberately, smooth and steady pressure against Danny's prostate, and just like that, Danny's finally gone.
Danny comes hard, and he's talking, he can't even stop himself. He's spilling secrets in husky pants, gasping for air in between, admitting too much, saying, "You--" and "Yeah, yes, I'm happy here--" and "C'mon, babe, please," until it's over. Until Steve, smug as can be, crawls up the mattress toward him and pins Danny against the headboard to kiss him, which should be gross and never is.
Danny's panting against his mouth more than kissing back, trying to get some control over his breathing, when Steve pulls away and smiles at him. "Told you my technique could crack you," he says, absolutely too pleased with himself, he's going to float away with all the stupid hot air swelling his head.
Danny frees one hand, pushes at Steve's shoulder, knocking him back just a little, just enough that he can get some space to breathe. Still panting and trying to hide it, Danny says, "Oh yeah, you think? You really think I cracked there? Let me tell you something, Steven, that may be how you Hawaii weirdos blow a man's mind; that may even be how SEALs learn to do it, but in Jersey--"
Steve makes a face. "Oh, here we go again."
"In Jersey, we have ways," Danny says, slipping into a terrible fake accent. "We have our own ways of making people talk," and with that, he slides down the bed, shoving at Steve all the way until he has him just how he wants him, loose-limbed and ready to go, his cock hard against his tight stomach.
Then he demonstrates his own interrogation technique, mouth on Steve's cock and hands roaming everywhere, prepared to go on for as long as it takes to get Steve moaning and twisting helplessly. Until he has Steve admitting that yes, yes, he hates pineapple on pizza too, yes, sometimes the downpours are annoying, yes, it's Danny that makes being home again like being home--
"Well," Danny says afterwards when they're curled up together, drowsy in the late afternoon sunlight. "Maybe next time I'll try for something I don't already know, you goof," and Steve smiles at him in that way he has, that open and delighted grin that Danny sees on his face even more often than the dangerous grin, the drive-too-fast grin, the what-volcano? grin.
The one that makes Danny grin back, grin right back at him, and hold on tight.
Author: giddygeek
Pairing: H50, Steve/Danny
Notes: 1300 words. Adult (in a fluffy, kind of porny, self-indulgent sort of way :D). Episode tag for 1x19; assume spoilers, although mild. Many thanks to misspamela for the read-through!
Summary: "I think I could get whatever I wanted out of you right now."
"Babe," Danny says, trying for amused but mostly sounding wrecked, "I gotta tell you that as incredible as this is, I think it falls a little short, maybe just a mile or two hundred miles short, of being an effective interrogation technique."
Steve looks up and Danny groans at the sight of him, all intent and focused, with Danny's cock in his mouth. His tongue cradles the head as he pauses to think about it, then he drags back to speak and Danny gasps, twitching under the heavy weight of Steve's body across his legs, holding him down against the mattress.
"I don't know, Danny," Steve says, mouth wet, trying for a bland expression but his eyes give him away, gleaming with humor. "I think I could get whatever I wanted out of you right now."
"Well, if what you want to get out of me is jizz, sure," Danny says, shrugging his shoulders against Steve's headboard. "If you're thinking you'll be able to probe me for state secrets, then I'm thinking you're out of luck."
Steve slides his thumb across his bottom lip, considering. "You think so, huh?"
"I think the state's secrets are safe with me, even though the state in question is most likely to be Hawaii, because you're a hometown-pride kind of freak," Danny agrees, but he's watching avidly as Steve responds by taking him into his mouth, deep, on one smooth slide. The noises Danny makes seem kind of dramatic, even he has to admit, from a guy who insists he's feeling kind of whatever about getting an absolutely amazing blowjob.
Steve pulls back again, curls his fingers around the base of Danny's cock in a loose grip that just barely strokes, keeps Danny near the edge without being anything like enough to get him off. "You know what, I think I'm gonna take that challenge," Steve says, and the gleam in his eyes goes dark and dangerous even as his smile widens. It's a dive-off-a-cliff, punch-a-shark, set-fire-to-paperwork kind of look if Danny's ever seen one, and he has, he has, he's seen a look like that once a day (and twice on Tuesdays) since this insane partnership started.
"Do your worst," he says, spreading his arms out dramatically. Steve grins at him all smug and confident as he dips his head back down and bites Danny's thigh, lightly, just once; just deep enough to sting a little and leave the faintest hint of a mark. The he licks his way up Danny's cock and takes it into his mouth again, easing down on it one slick, wet inch at a time.
And okay, so Steve's worst--fuck--Steve's worst will no doubt blow Danny's mind.
Danny's hands twist the sheets, clenching and releasing as he pushes his hips up, watches Steve take him even deeper with little effort. Steve's smart, is the problem; he has the kind of sharp mind and driven energy that is just compelled to learn things, to know everything. It's why he's a nuisance and a nag, a genius in the field, and an absolute menace in bed. He knows all of Danny's tells by now, and how to drive him wild in three easy moves. Danny refuses to dignify Steve's opinion that it's just that Danny only needs three moves; he's way more controlled than that, when it's anyone except--
"Tell me how much you love it here," Steve murmurs, looking up at him again.
"No way, Commander," Danny says, voice choked and wanting. "You'll never make me talk."
He has self-control, plenty of it, with anyone except Steve. Who knows him too well now, has learned him too well, has asked a lot of questions like Does this feel good? How about this? until he got Danny figured out. Now Steve knows him down to the way he likes his hips pinned when he's getting blown, how he likes his wrists wrapped up in long fingers when he's getting fucked, how he likes it when Steve pushes back against him when Danny's opening him up with his slick fingers or his slick cock.
Now Steve knows him down to the way he always plays to win, even when losing doesn't matter, is no loss, isn't anything but pleasure.
Steve looks up at Danny and raises an eyebrow, amused by Danny's stubbornness. He glides a finger down the length of Danny's cock, drawing it through the slippery wetness of saliva and pre-come. Then he pushes it inside Danny, slow and deep. He seeks out and finds Danny's prostate easy like he's got a map to all of Danny's hot spots, which he motherfucking might have drawn for himself. Danny knows him too, now, and he's just that kind of guy.
He swallows around the head of Danny's cock and he's grinning, the bastard, mouth stretching in a way Danny knows, recognizes.This one is the smile that comes right as Steve pushes his luck; the smile that comes right before he wins the game.
Steve pulls back again. "Tell me," he says, faking stern and doing a damn good job of it except for the crook of his mouth and the gleam in his eye.
He withdraws his finger when Danny shakes his head, then pushes back into him with two, makes slow and even strokes while he says, "C'mon, Danny, you know what I want to hear." He crooks his fingers deliberately, smooth and steady pressure against Danny's prostate, and just like that, Danny's finally gone.
Danny comes hard, and he's talking, he can't even stop himself. He's spilling secrets in husky pants, gasping for air in between, admitting too much, saying, "You--" and "Yeah, yes, I'm happy here--" and "C'mon, babe, please," until it's over. Until Steve, smug as can be, crawls up the mattress toward him and pins Danny against the headboard to kiss him, which should be gross and never is.
Danny's panting against his mouth more than kissing back, trying to get some control over his breathing, when Steve pulls away and smiles at him. "Told you my technique could crack you," he says, absolutely too pleased with himself, he's going to float away with all the stupid hot air swelling his head.
Danny frees one hand, pushes at Steve's shoulder, knocking him back just a little, just enough that he can get some space to breathe. Still panting and trying to hide it, Danny says, "Oh yeah, you think? You really think I cracked there? Let me tell you something, Steven, that may be how you Hawaii weirdos blow a man's mind; that may even be how SEALs learn to do it, but in Jersey--"
Steve makes a face. "Oh, here we go again."
"In Jersey, we have ways," Danny says, slipping into a terrible fake accent. "We have our own ways of making people talk," and with that, he slides down the bed, shoving at Steve all the way until he has him just how he wants him, loose-limbed and ready to go, his cock hard against his tight stomach.
Then he demonstrates his own interrogation technique, mouth on Steve's cock and hands roaming everywhere, prepared to go on for as long as it takes to get Steve moaning and twisting helplessly. Until he has Steve admitting that yes, yes, he hates pineapple on pizza too, yes, sometimes the downpours are annoying, yes, it's Danny that makes being home again like being home--
"Well," Danny says afterwards when they're curled up together, drowsy in the late afternoon sunlight. "Maybe next time I'll try for something I don't already know, you goof," and Steve smiles at him in that way he has, that open and delighted grin that Danny sees on his face even more often than the dangerous grin, the drive-too-fast grin, the what-volcano? grin.
The one that makes Danny grin back, grin right back at him, and hold on tight.