Fic: Dangerous
Title: Dangerous
Author: knotted_rose
Pairing: Steve/Danno
Rating: R (There's some kissing but not much more)
Spoilers: Not really
Warnings: There's fluff. And banter. Normally I don't write either.
Summary: Partially inspired by alicebluegown16's prompt asking for Grace accidentally outing Danny to Steve.
Dangerous
"Who wants ice cream?" Steve asked as Grace and Danny came up the beach toward the house. He'd asked Danny over that weekend, knowing he'd have his daughter with him, tempting Danny with a BBQ, swimming and a football game.
"You have ice cream?" Danny asked, coming to a standstill. Steve was secretly pleased - his partner was always in motion, tapping his pencil on his desk while going through reports, jiggling his leg when forced to sit through meetings. He even moved around a lot when he slept, not that Steve was spying or anything the time Danny ended up crashing on his couch after a brutally long case. Doing something to make Danny pause, really stop, was one of the mini-triumphs that Steve kept track of in their perpetual game of one-up-manship. Not that he'd admit to playing any such game.
"You have ice cream?" Danny repeated. "Mr. one-donut-means-cardiac-arrest?"
Steve suddenly realized it was a little out of character. But he knew Danny liked sweets, and what kid didn't like ice cream? He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down. "Yeah, I, ah, thought you'd like it."
"Stop giving Steve a hard time, Danno," Grace scolded. She grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.
"Yes, my Lady," Danny said, back in motion, back to being the perfect father. Steve envied Grace sometimes, not just Danny's attention, but his parenting.
"It isn't that To-Fruity stuff is it? But real ice cream?" Danny called over his shoulder.
"Yes, Danny, from real cows that go moo," Steve said, trailing behind them.
Once in the kitchen Danny found out the truth - Steve not only had ice cream (real, organic vanilla bean) but hot fudge and caramel.
"You've been holding out on me," Danny accused, pointing a spoon at Steve.
Before Steve could retaliate, the chorus from "Mambo Italiano" started playing. "Ah, I, ah, have to get that." Danny slipped away, out to the living room, to pick up his phone.
Steve looked at Grace. "Do you know who that is?" Steve asked, trying for casual.
Grace nodded, digging into her sundae. "Manuel." She looked over her shoulder, then leaned closer to Steve and whispered, "I think it's his boyfriend."
The sudden wave of jealousy surprised Steve. He fought to keep his face passive. "Why do you think that?" he asked.
Grace ensured once again that they were alone. Steve wondered from whom she'd learned to be so cautious - Danny or Rachel? "I saw them kissing once. But you can't tell anyone."
"Cross my heart," Steve said solemnly.
Grace held out her hand. "Daddy and I pinkie swear."
Steve hooked little fingers with Grace. "Promise."
"So what are you swearing to?" Danny said, surprising both of them.
Steve just smiled and ate a spoonful of ice cream.
Danny glared at one, then the other, then finally said, "I don't want to know. Just be quick about whatever messy death you've planned for me, okay?"
Steve nodded. "Duly noted."
Grace grinned, but then looked at Steve speculatively. He suddenly wondered if he was the one who should be worried.
#
Steve tried to treat Danny the same way, since he'd learned his secret. Being in the military had always meant don't ask, don't tell. And while Steve was absolutely in the don't ask camp, he wasn't sure he had anything to tell, either. It wasn't as if he'd thought about Danny that way. Much. Often. Every man had fantasies about the people he worked with. That was just part of being a red-blooded American male with a healthy libido. And it would be an abuse of his power, as the boss, to act on in. Still, he must have been doing something, because finally Danny blew up, saying, "What is it with you?"
Steve shook his head. "I'm sorry?"
"Why are you staring at me like you're afraid I'll grow a second head?"
"Third head," Steve replied automatically.
"What?"
"Third head." Steve suddenly realized that he'd been thinking with the wrong head.
"You know what? I take that back. I don't want to know what's going on with you. Just - just whatever it is that you're planning, just make sure it doesn't involve shooting. Or at least tell me when to duck. Okay?"
Steve was arrested by the thought of ordering Danny to "duck" and have him dip his head down to Steve's crotch and. . ."Okay," he croaked out.
Fortunately, by the time they'd gotten through being shot at and then rescued by Chin and his shotgun from where they'd been pinned down Steve only wanted a nice long swim to clear his head. Then a quick shower and his hand to clear his other head.
#
Steve heard the "Mambo Italiano" chorus from his office while clearing out reports. He'd already had the argument with himself about how it would be wrong to trace the call. But he really wanted to know if it was coming from the mainland, or somewhere here on the island. He assumed it was someone from back home--Danny had no time to be with anyone here. The cost of those calls would be expensive, though, and Danny didn't have a lot of money to spare. Fortunately, this was a short one.
Unfortunately, Danny appeared ready to bite off the head of anyone who came close afterward. As they were driving to interview a witness, Steve finally had to ask, "Okay, what crawled up your butt and died?"
"Nothing," Danny said, glaring out the window. After a few moments of neither of them saying anything, then looking at each other and looking away, Danny finally said, "So. Hypothetically.You have a buddy who has to make a choice between his friendship and his family. You wouldn't blame him for choosing his family, right?"
"Hypothetically?" Steve clarified.
"Hypothetically."
"Danny -- it's ohana -- it's family. You shouldn't ever have to chose between friends and family. The friend should be part of the family. Not outside it."
"Huh," Danny said, looking out of the window again. The rest of the ride was still quiet, but the atmosphere in the car stopped sparking with anger. Danny patted the side of his leg thoughtfully, no longer like he was restraining himself from punching someone or something.
"You know," Danny said as they pulled into the driveway. "Hypothetically, that might have been good advice. So, maybe hypothetically, you can imagine me saying thank you." He got out of the car quickly. Steve still said into the empty car, "You're welcome."
#
"More lemonade," Grace demanded, handing her glass to Danny. Steve hid a smile when the expected dialogue began. They were all sprawled on lawn chairs, watching the water, relaxing after a long swim, several tickle fights and an extreme game of keep-away.
"Please, may I have more lemonade?" Danny asked as he started to get out of his chair.
"Please Danno may I have more lemonade?" Grace replied with a long suffering sigh.
Steve merely held up his beer bottle. When Danny stood with his hands on his hips, not moving, Steve followed suit. "Please Danno will you bring me another beer?"
"Ill-mannered heathens. Both of yous," Danny said, shaking his head and heading back to the house. Grace looked over her shoulder, following his progress, before finally leaning over and grabbing Steve's arm.
"He's finally gone. We don't have much time."
Steve fought off his grin -- Grace sounded so serious.
"Manuel isn't calling anymore. When I asked, Danno said Manual complained that he talked about you all the time. And he does. Talk about you. All the time. So when are you going to ask him out?"
Steve sputtered.
Grace continued. "I mean, he lives here, most of the time. And you bought him bagels, real bagels, not round, white bread, which is what he calls the ones he gets at the store. And when you two fight I don't get scared or anything."
"It isn't that simple," Steve said. "I'm his boss, and it could get messy." He realized he was sweating more from the casual questioning of a little girl than a grilling by any Sergent-at-arms.
"But he really likes you. And you really like him."
"It's -- it's more complicated than that," Steve said quietly. "I'm sorry."
Grace pouted. "We'll see," she said stubbornly. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked out at the water.
Steve didn't know what to say. Every ounce of self-preservation told him to not make Danny's little girl angry at him. The hell that Danny would rain down on him for upsetting her would be epic.
"All right," Steve said quietly. "I'll try -- something."
Grace didn't look at him -- just stuck her hand out, pinkie finger extended.
Steve solemnly swore to do -- something. He wasn't sure what yet.
"I don't even wanna know," Danny's comment came from behind them.
Steve just shook his head, while Grace grinned and thanked her father politely for her beverage. Steve wondered if she'd learned to lie so well from Rachel, or Danny, or both. He also wondered if of the three of them, Grace wasn't the most dangerous.
#
Steve didn't know how Grace got his phone number. He knew Danny hadn't given it to her. She'd probably just stolen his phone and found it. The text messages had at least started out cute, but had turned pouting until Steve caved and told her that he'd ask Danno out on a date that weekend. The entire screen of smiley faces made him feel better, though still nervous. He didn't know if Danny was interested. But he wanted to know. Wanted to know if Danny's hair was soft around the edges where he didn't tame it with gel. Wanted to learn how Danny tasted, really tasted, all over. Wanted to see how much sex it took to make Danny go still again.
"Football?" Steve said, pausing in the doorway to Danny's office that Friday night. No case loomed, just the promise of a couple of days of relaxing.
"You got something Tivo'ed?" Danny asked looking up and smiling.
Steve's chest felt warm suddenly, as if a spotlight just shone on it. "Yeap. Monday night's game. Vikings and Bears."
"Grudge match. Nice," Danny said. "Give me a minute."
"Kapahulu? Or Ninniku-ya's?" Steve asked, getting out his phone. Their usual habit was to call ahead and pick something up on the way back to his place.
"Ninniku-ya's," Danny said firmly. "With extra egg rolls this time."
"You just want the extra fat," Steve said. "To go with your other f--"
The "Mambo Italiano" chorus interrupted. Danny looked startled. He waved at Steve. "I'll catch up," he said.
Steve turned on his heel and stalked out the door. Damn it. He was finally ready and he'd promised Grace and now. . .
"Hey."
"What?" Steve growled.
"Did you just go on the rag and forget to tell me?" Danny asked, puzzled.
"No, it's just--what, you're coming with me?"
"You asked me to your place to watch the game, we were going to pick up Chinese--aren't you a little young for Altzheimer's?"
Steve glared at Danny. Who looked puzzled, but not spitting with anger. Maybe Grace had it wrong? Had Danny and Manuel just gotten back together? "Fine," he finally replied. "But I'm driving."
"I think the constant rage is eating at your brain cells. You drove us here this morning," Danny pointed out.
"Shut up," Steve said, leading the way to the car.
#
"Okay, that's it," Danny said loudly, throwing the remote onto the coffee table.
Steve winced. The evening had gone from bad to worse. Now the Tivo had cut off the game when it was tied, 7 all, ten minutes before the end.
"This is the worst date ever," Danny declared, glaring at Steve.
Date?
"First of all, you invite me over, then two seconds later, forget that you had," Danny said, holding up a finger. "Next, you forget to order our food, so we end up waiting for half an hour."
"It wasn't that long," Steve said automatically. "20 minutes. Max."
"Third," Danny said, overriding whatever else Steve might have said. "When we get here we find out it's the wrong order and I don't have any egg rolls. Fourth, your stupid television hates me and cut off the game before the end."
"My T.V. doesn't hate you. But what the hell do you mean by date?"
"If this was a date, which it isn't, it would be a pretty lousy one," Danny said stubbornly.
"Yeah, well if this was a date I'd know how to make it better."
"Oh yeah?" Danny challenged. "What, you going to club me over the head and drag me to your cave?"
"Something like that," Steve said, launching himself at Danny and kissing him.
Danny froze for a long moment but Steve didn't stop. Finally Danny started kissing back and Steve moaned in appreciation. The kiss was sloppy as they fought and tried to figure out the best angle for their heads, smashing their noses and chins together. Danny spread his hands wide across Steve's waist, and for a second he thought maybe his partner would dip them lower, but then Danny shoved Steve back across the couch.
"That is not the way to make up for a bad date." Danny said seriously. For a moment Steve was afraid Danny was going to leave, but then Danny crawled closer, settling one knee on either side of Steve's hips, looming over Steve but with gentle fingers scratching through Steve's hair at the back of his head. "Believe me. I know. The way to make up for a bad date is to take the person out on a good date. One where you don't forget your wallet and make your date pay."
Steve grinned. He was so going to hear the story behind that sometime. His hands found their way to Danny's hips, holding the flexing muscle, finding himself getting harder.
"How did you know I wouldn't smack you when you tried to kiss me?" Danny asked. "Not that I'm saying I won't smack you, someday."
Steve pressed his lips together.
"We have ways of making you talk," Danny said, pointedly grinding down against Steve's cock.
"Grace," Steve admitted. "Mambo Italiano," he added. He figured that would be enough.
"Huh," Danny shook his head. "She's way smarter than either of us."
"True."
Danny paused for another moment. "Manuel was the one who suggested I take you out on a date. He was just calling me to make sure I actually did."
"Oh." So the date had been Danny's idea? But before Steve could ask, Danny said, "And finally, what in the hell gave you the idea that I'd be on the bottom?"
The fingers at the back of Steve's neck turned hard, pulling his head back. The twinge of pain didn't stop his dick from twitching as Danny leaned down and smashed their mouths together. This kiss was easily ten times more dirty, with teeth and tongue and Danny grinding against Steve's cock.
When they broke apart, both panting, Steve said, "Don't you assume just because you're on top that you're going to stay there."
Danny grinned. "I'm counting on it," he said, leaning down to kiss Steve again.
Steve contemplated planting his feet and twisting so Danny would suddenly be beneath him. As well as heaving the pair of them off the couch and making their way to the bedroom. For now, he was content with Danny's comfortable weight holding him down, the easy slide of tongues, and the slightly dangerous feeling he always got when he stepped closer to the edge of life.
THE END
Author: knotted_rose
Pairing: Steve/Danno
Rating: R (There's some kissing but not much more)
Spoilers: Not really
Warnings: There's fluff. And banter. Normally I don't write either.
Summary: Partially inspired by alicebluegown16's prompt asking for Grace accidentally outing Danny to Steve.
Dangerous
"Who wants ice cream?" Steve asked as Grace and Danny came up the beach toward the house. He'd asked Danny over that weekend, knowing he'd have his daughter with him, tempting Danny with a BBQ, swimming and a football game.
"You have ice cream?" Danny asked, coming to a standstill. Steve was secretly pleased - his partner was always in motion, tapping his pencil on his desk while going through reports, jiggling his leg when forced to sit through meetings. He even moved around a lot when he slept, not that Steve was spying or anything the time Danny ended up crashing on his couch after a brutally long case. Doing something to make Danny pause, really stop, was one of the mini-triumphs that Steve kept track of in their perpetual game of one-up-manship. Not that he'd admit to playing any such game.
"You have ice cream?" Danny repeated. "Mr. one-donut-means-cardiac-arrest?"
Steve suddenly realized it was a little out of character. But he knew Danny liked sweets, and what kid didn't like ice cream? He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down. "Yeah, I, ah, thought you'd like it."
"Stop giving Steve a hard time, Danno," Grace scolded. She grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.
"Yes, my Lady," Danny said, back in motion, back to being the perfect father. Steve envied Grace sometimes, not just Danny's attention, but his parenting.
"It isn't that To-Fruity stuff is it? But real ice cream?" Danny called over his shoulder.
"Yes, Danny, from real cows that go moo," Steve said, trailing behind them.
Once in the kitchen Danny found out the truth - Steve not only had ice cream (real, organic vanilla bean) but hot fudge and caramel.
"You've been holding out on me," Danny accused, pointing a spoon at Steve.
Before Steve could retaliate, the chorus from "Mambo Italiano" started playing. "Ah, I, ah, have to get that." Danny slipped away, out to the living room, to pick up his phone.
Steve looked at Grace. "Do you know who that is?" Steve asked, trying for casual.
Grace nodded, digging into her sundae. "Manuel." She looked over her shoulder, then leaned closer to Steve and whispered, "I think it's his boyfriend."
The sudden wave of jealousy surprised Steve. He fought to keep his face passive. "Why do you think that?" he asked.
Grace ensured once again that they were alone. Steve wondered from whom she'd learned to be so cautious - Danny or Rachel? "I saw them kissing once. But you can't tell anyone."
"Cross my heart," Steve said solemnly.
Grace held out her hand. "Daddy and I pinkie swear."
Steve hooked little fingers with Grace. "Promise."
"So what are you swearing to?" Danny said, surprising both of them.
Steve just smiled and ate a spoonful of ice cream.
Danny glared at one, then the other, then finally said, "I don't want to know. Just be quick about whatever messy death you've planned for me, okay?"
Steve nodded. "Duly noted."
Grace grinned, but then looked at Steve speculatively. He suddenly wondered if he was the one who should be worried.
#
Steve tried to treat Danny the same way, since he'd learned his secret. Being in the military had always meant don't ask, don't tell. And while Steve was absolutely in the don't ask camp, he wasn't sure he had anything to tell, either. It wasn't as if he'd thought about Danny that way. Much. Often. Every man had fantasies about the people he worked with. That was just part of being a red-blooded American male with a healthy libido. And it would be an abuse of his power, as the boss, to act on in. Still, he must have been doing something, because finally Danny blew up, saying, "What is it with you?"
Steve shook his head. "I'm sorry?"
"Why are you staring at me like you're afraid I'll grow a second head?"
"Third head," Steve replied automatically.
"What?"
"Third head." Steve suddenly realized that he'd been thinking with the wrong head.
"You know what? I take that back. I don't want to know what's going on with you. Just - just whatever it is that you're planning, just make sure it doesn't involve shooting. Or at least tell me when to duck. Okay?"
Steve was arrested by the thought of ordering Danny to "duck" and have him dip his head down to Steve's crotch and. . ."Okay," he croaked out.
Fortunately, by the time they'd gotten through being shot at and then rescued by Chin and his shotgun from where they'd been pinned down Steve only wanted a nice long swim to clear his head. Then a quick shower and his hand to clear his other head.
#
Steve heard the "Mambo Italiano" chorus from his office while clearing out reports. He'd already had the argument with himself about how it would be wrong to trace the call. But he really wanted to know if it was coming from the mainland, or somewhere here on the island. He assumed it was someone from back home--Danny had no time to be with anyone here. The cost of those calls would be expensive, though, and Danny didn't have a lot of money to spare. Fortunately, this was a short one.
Unfortunately, Danny appeared ready to bite off the head of anyone who came close afterward. As they were driving to interview a witness, Steve finally had to ask, "Okay, what crawled up your butt and died?"
"Nothing," Danny said, glaring out the window. After a few moments of neither of them saying anything, then looking at each other and looking away, Danny finally said, "So. Hypothetically.You have a buddy who has to make a choice between his friendship and his family. You wouldn't blame him for choosing his family, right?"
"Hypothetically?" Steve clarified.
"Hypothetically."
"Danny -- it's ohana -- it's family. You shouldn't ever have to chose between friends and family. The friend should be part of the family. Not outside it."
"Huh," Danny said, looking out of the window again. The rest of the ride was still quiet, but the atmosphere in the car stopped sparking with anger. Danny patted the side of his leg thoughtfully, no longer like he was restraining himself from punching someone or something.
"You know," Danny said as they pulled into the driveway. "Hypothetically, that might have been good advice. So, maybe hypothetically, you can imagine me saying thank you." He got out of the car quickly. Steve still said into the empty car, "You're welcome."
#
"More lemonade," Grace demanded, handing her glass to Danny. Steve hid a smile when the expected dialogue began. They were all sprawled on lawn chairs, watching the water, relaxing after a long swim, several tickle fights and an extreme game of keep-away.
"Please, may I have more lemonade?" Danny asked as he started to get out of his chair.
"Please Danno may I have more lemonade?" Grace replied with a long suffering sigh.
Steve merely held up his beer bottle. When Danny stood with his hands on his hips, not moving, Steve followed suit. "Please Danno will you bring me another beer?"
"Ill-mannered heathens. Both of yous," Danny said, shaking his head and heading back to the house. Grace looked over her shoulder, following his progress, before finally leaning over and grabbing Steve's arm.
"He's finally gone. We don't have much time."
Steve fought off his grin -- Grace sounded so serious.
"Manuel isn't calling anymore. When I asked, Danno said Manual complained that he talked about you all the time. And he does. Talk about you. All the time. So when are you going to ask him out?"
Steve sputtered.
Grace continued. "I mean, he lives here, most of the time. And you bought him bagels, real bagels, not round, white bread, which is what he calls the ones he gets at the store. And when you two fight I don't get scared or anything."
"It isn't that simple," Steve said. "I'm his boss, and it could get messy." He realized he was sweating more from the casual questioning of a little girl than a grilling by any Sergent-at-arms.
"But he really likes you. And you really like him."
"It's -- it's more complicated than that," Steve said quietly. "I'm sorry."
Grace pouted. "We'll see," she said stubbornly. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked out at the water.
Steve didn't know what to say. Every ounce of self-preservation told him to not make Danny's little girl angry at him. The hell that Danny would rain down on him for upsetting her would be epic.
"All right," Steve said quietly. "I'll try -- something."
Grace didn't look at him -- just stuck her hand out, pinkie finger extended.
Steve solemnly swore to do -- something. He wasn't sure what yet.
"I don't even wanna know," Danny's comment came from behind them.
Steve just shook his head, while Grace grinned and thanked her father politely for her beverage. Steve wondered if she'd learned to lie so well from Rachel, or Danny, or both. He also wondered if of the three of them, Grace wasn't the most dangerous.
#
Steve didn't know how Grace got his phone number. He knew Danny hadn't given it to her. She'd probably just stolen his phone and found it. The text messages had at least started out cute, but had turned pouting until Steve caved and told her that he'd ask Danno out on a date that weekend. The entire screen of smiley faces made him feel better, though still nervous. He didn't know if Danny was interested. But he wanted to know. Wanted to know if Danny's hair was soft around the edges where he didn't tame it with gel. Wanted to learn how Danny tasted, really tasted, all over. Wanted to see how much sex it took to make Danny go still again.
"Football?" Steve said, pausing in the doorway to Danny's office that Friday night. No case loomed, just the promise of a couple of days of relaxing.
"You got something Tivo'ed?" Danny asked looking up and smiling.
Steve's chest felt warm suddenly, as if a spotlight just shone on it. "Yeap. Monday night's game. Vikings and Bears."
"Grudge match. Nice," Danny said. "Give me a minute."
"Kapahulu? Or Ninniku-ya's?" Steve asked, getting out his phone. Their usual habit was to call ahead and pick something up on the way back to his place.
"Ninniku-ya's," Danny said firmly. "With extra egg rolls this time."
"You just want the extra fat," Steve said. "To go with your other f--"
The "Mambo Italiano" chorus interrupted. Danny looked startled. He waved at Steve. "I'll catch up," he said.
Steve turned on his heel and stalked out the door. Damn it. He was finally ready and he'd promised Grace and now. . .
"Hey."
"What?" Steve growled.
"Did you just go on the rag and forget to tell me?" Danny asked, puzzled.
"No, it's just--what, you're coming with me?"
"You asked me to your place to watch the game, we were going to pick up Chinese--aren't you a little young for Altzheimer's?"
Steve glared at Danny. Who looked puzzled, but not spitting with anger. Maybe Grace had it wrong? Had Danny and Manuel just gotten back together? "Fine," he finally replied. "But I'm driving."
"I think the constant rage is eating at your brain cells. You drove us here this morning," Danny pointed out.
"Shut up," Steve said, leading the way to the car.
#
"Okay, that's it," Danny said loudly, throwing the remote onto the coffee table.
Steve winced. The evening had gone from bad to worse. Now the Tivo had cut off the game when it was tied, 7 all, ten minutes before the end.
"This is the worst date ever," Danny declared, glaring at Steve.
Date?
"First of all, you invite me over, then two seconds later, forget that you had," Danny said, holding up a finger. "Next, you forget to order our food, so we end up waiting for half an hour."
"It wasn't that long," Steve said automatically. "20 minutes. Max."
"Third," Danny said, overriding whatever else Steve might have said. "When we get here we find out it's the wrong order and I don't have any egg rolls. Fourth, your stupid television hates me and cut off the game before the end."
"My T.V. doesn't hate you. But what the hell do you mean by date?"
"If this was a date, which it isn't, it would be a pretty lousy one," Danny said stubbornly.
"Yeah, well if this was a date I'd know how to make it better."
"Oh yeah?" Danny challenged. "What, you going to club me over the head and drag me to your cave?"
"Something like that," Steve said, launching himself at Danny and kissing him.
Danny froze for a long moment but Steve didn't stop. Finally Danny started kissing back and Steve moaned in appreciation. The kiss was sloppy as they fought and tried to figure out the best angle for their heads, smashing their noses and chins together. Danny spread his hands wide across Steve's waist, and for a second he thought maybe his partner would dip them lower, but then Danny shoved Steve back across the couch.
"That is not the way to make up for a bad date." Danny said seriously. For a moment Steve was afraid Danny was going to leave, but then Danny crawled closer, settling one knee on either side of Steve's hips, looming over Steve but with gentle fingers scratching through Steve's hair at the back of his head. "Believe me. I know. The way to make up for a bad date is to take the person out on a good date. One where you don't forget your wallet and make your date pay."
Steve grinned. He was so going to hear the story behind that sometime. His hands found their way to Danny's hips, holding the flexing muscle, finding himself getting harder.
"How did you know I wouldn't smack you when you tried to kiss me?" Danny asked. "Not that I'm saying I won't smack you, someday."
Steve pressed his lips together.
"We have ways of making you talk," Danny said, pointedly grinding down against Steve's cock.
"Grace," Steve admitted. "Mambo Italiano," he added. He figured that would be enough.
"Huh," Danny shook his head. "She's way smarter than either of us."
"True."
Danny paused for another moment. "Manuel was the one who suggested I take you out on a date. He was just calling me to make sure I actually did."
"Oh." So the date had been Danny's idea? But before Steve could ask, Danny said, "And finally, what in the hell gave you the idea that I'd be on the bottom?"
The fingers at the back of Steve's neck turned hard, pulling his head back. The twinge of pain didn't stop his dick from twitching as Danny leaned down and smashed their mouths together. This kiss was easily ten times more dirty, with teeth and tongue and Danny grinding against Steve's cock.
When they broke apart, both panting, Steve said, "Don't you assume just because you're on top that you're going to stay there."
Danny grinned. "I'm counting on it," he said, leaning down to kiss Steve again.
Steve contemplated planting his feet and twisting so Danny would suddenly be beneath him. As well as heaving the pair of them off the couch and making their way to the bedroom. For now, he was content with Danny's comfortable weight holding him down, the easy slide of tongues, and the slightly dangerous feeling he always got when he stepped closer to the edge of life.
THE END