H50 Fic: Inevitable
Title: Inevitable
Fandom: H50
Pairing: Danny/Steve
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2320
Summary: Danny and Steve bicker. Then have sex. What, it's what they do on the show, right?
Authors note: I think the title refers more to me than the fic. And it's all lamardeuse's fault. ETA: A big thank you to the lovely bibliokat for spotting those typos!
Inevitable
Steve's day off is suddenly brightened by Danny, barging into his home as usual. "I'd like you to know this is all your fault," he says without preamble.
"Hi, Danny, come right on in," Steve says with a roll of his eyes, even though he welcomes the distraction. He yanks out the piece of wood he's been trying to fit in between two studs. "You want to help?"
"No, I don't want to help," Danny says, as if the very suggestion is ludicrous. "I'm here to point out to you that I'm injured, and it's your fault."
Tossing the plank aside, Steve cocks his head and looks Danny over. Carefully. He doesn't see any sign of injury, just Danny standing square and resolute as usual. He's resplendent in his 'day off' clothes, which are exactly the same as his work clothes, minus the tie. Then it hits him.
"Oh, crap, did you injure your knee again?" he asks, worried. Still, Danny isn't using the cane, which is a good sign.
"No, it's not my knee, it's my leg, this muscle right here." Danny ducks his head and rubs his knuckles over the top of his left thigh. "It's killing me. I strained it running down the cliff yesterday after those perps."
"Mountain," Steve corrects Danny. "It was a mountain, not a cliff." Still, he's touched that Danny came all the way over just to share it with him.
"Don't tell me it wasn't a cliff. I may be from the mainland, but I know a cliff when I see one," Danny explains. "And when I'm running headlong down one. And why am I running down a cliff? Because you, you seem completely unaware of the fact that detective work is about tactics and outsmarting the bad guys, not just throwing yourself at them at the first possible opportunity."
"Ooooh," Steve says, nodding his head. "Is that how it works? Let me guess, you know this because you have eighty-six solved murder cases under your belt--"
"Eighty-seven," Danny says.
"Eighty-seven, not counting how many you've solved since we've become partners, and that is, oh, how many cases?" Steve waits, hands on his hips, and when Danny remains silent, looking more obstinate than ever, Steve continues,"one hundred percent of them?"
"That is not the point." Danny stalks across the room. "The point is, if I'm dead, I can't catch any more bad guys. And you would feel the guilt for the rest of your life. Ow." Danny frowns and rubs his thigh. "It keeps cramping up. This all your fault. Right here." He points to his leg and glares at Steve.
"Okay." Steve approaches Danny. "Let me see that."
Danny's eyes immediately go wary. "What, you have a thing for my thighs?"
"Yes, Danny. I do." Steve grins. And hey, maybe he does. He has a thing for pretty much everything Danny, from his squinting eyes to his quick, expressive hands and for the hollow of his throat which is exposed today, since the first two buttons of his shirt are daringly undone. With a hand to Danny's shoulder, he pushes Danny back onto his desk. "Here, sit."
"What am I, a dog?" Nonetheless, Danny perches on Steve's desk.
Steve puts his hands on Danny's left thigh, circling it with his fingers, exploring the feel of the muscle. "Since this is apparently all my fault, it's up to me to make it better."
"Is that some kind of island thing?" Danny asks with a scowl. "You cause someone bodily harm, you have to fondle their thighs? Because if it is, it's something I should know about."
"No," Steve says. "But I think it should be, huh?" He squeezes, digging his thumbs in now, working the muscle.
After a moment Danny leans back on his arms and lets out a low grunt. "Okay. You know, that's--that's kind of nice."
Danny is watching from under his eyelashes and his voice has gone soft and breathy, words slurring together. Steve decides it's what Danny would sound like in bed, and he wants to hear more of it. He moves closer, kneading Danny's thigh, hands moving more gently as the tension in the muscle eases.
"You're getting off on this, aren't you?" Teasing now, but Danny's voice is still soft.
Steve purses his lips as if thinking it over. "I could, if you want me to."
Danny laughs, ducking his head. "You're a wackjob, you know that? Like a total, lunatic wackjob."
Steve has to smile at that, because Danny just might be right.
"What's with the look?" Danny asks.
"What? What look?" Afraid he's given too much away, Steve removes his hands from Danny's thigh and steps back. But Danny grabs him by the wrists and tugs him in again, until he's standing between Danny's legs.
"The look you just gave me, all warm and fuzzy-like," Danny says.
Steve scoffs. "Warm and fuzzy? Right." He wants to remind Danny he was a Navy SEAL. He doesn't do warm and fuzzy.
"And, by the way, I didn't say you could stop." Danny places Steve's hands on his thigh again and Steve laughs.
"I think the question is," Steve says, curling a hand around Danny's thigh. "Are you getting off on this?"
"Move it a little further north and I'll let you know."
Steve steps closer, gliding his thumb up along Danny's inner thigh and Danny chuckles, shaking his head as if Steve just proved his point about being a whackjob. Steve knows he should just back away now and laugh it off, that he should forget about Danny's damn thigh and all the other parts his hands are itching to touch. But Danny's face is right there, and as Steve leans in closer, Danny's expression grows quizzical. Like Steve is the biggest puzzle he's ever come across and damn it, some day he's going to figure Steve out.
"You make me crazy, you know that?" Danny murmurs.
His voice has gone soft again, almost silky now. Steve can't can resist any longer, he throws himself over the cliff with a heart-pounding rush, leaning in and pressing his lips to Danny's. He's amazed when Danny kisses him back, lips soft and eager and it's sweeter than Steve has ever imagined, especially when Danny reaches up and wraps a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.
And then it's all over.
"No," Danny says, pushing Steve away. "No. I'm not doing this." He twists out of Steve's grasp, sliding off the desk and backing away.
"Danny," Steve says, and fuck, he didn't want to freak Danny out, he was so sure Danny had wanted the same thing he did--
"Uh uh, no, don't Danny me." Danny's hands are in full motion and he's gesturing to himself before pointing at Steve. "I am not doing this with you. Because you are crazy. No freakin' way am I going to get involved with a guy who runs down cliffs and swims under battleships and drives a million miles an hour on dirt roads."
And Steve smiles. Danny isn't having a big gay freak-out, or telling him that he doesn't like Steve in that way.
"Wait, why are you smiling?" Danny looks completely bewildered.
"Those aren't good enough reasons," Steve explains.
"What do you mean those aren't good enough reasons, they're my reasons, and you don't get to judge whether they're good enough for you--"
Steve looks at his watch. "You have five seconds to come up with a real reason why I shouldn't kiss you."
"What?" Danny's hands shift into second gear, making a detour to his forehead before reaching out beseechingly. "Five seconds? What is with you? This isn't some Navy SEAL interrogation--"
"Five," Steve begins.
"No, no, you don't get to do this--"
"Four."
"I don't believe this. You are, you are a crazy, crazy man and I take back every nice thing I ever said about you--"
Steve is enjoying himself thoroughly. "Three."
"Oh, great. Now I'm crazy too."
Danny moves faster than Steve anticipates. Before he can get to "two", Danny is in his face, pulling him down for a kiss. This is nothing at all like the first kiss, nothing sweet at all about it. This kiss is all heat and fury, with Danny's fists in his tee-shirt and Danny's tongue in his mouth and it's maybe the best kiss Steve has ever experienced so he hangs onto Danny however he can. He doesn't want it to end but Danny pulls away abruptly--again--and damn it, he's going to make Steve even crazier than he already is.
"Could you please stop being so damn tall?" Danny growls as he pushes Steve toward the couch.
Relieved, Steve goes willingly, letting Danny shove him around and the moment his back hits the cushions Danny is on his lap, straddling his legs. With a hand sliding through Steve's hair, Danny resumes kissing and Steve moans into it. The best kiss just got even better--now Steve can get his hands on Danny's ass, and as soon as he does, Danny ups the ante, reaching down and flattening his palm over Steve's crotch.
Steve grins into the kiss when Danny discovers he's already hard. Danny shakes his head and nips gently at his lower lip, chuckling as he rubs Steve's cock through his pants. Steve squirms and damn it, they need to be naked right now, but he only gets as far as untucking Danny's shirt and slipping his hands underneath. He's distracted by the broad expanse of Danny's back, the feel of warm skin under his hands.
Danny is way ahead of him, unfastening Steve's pants and sliding his hand inside, directly on Steve's cock. Steve breaks off the kiss, panting, his head falling back against the wall.
"Danny," he says brokenly. "Slow down."
"No can do."
Danny nuzzles his neck and pulls Steve's cock free from his briefs. Steve tries to push up but he can't, not with Danny on his lap, one firm hand on his shoulder, holding him down as he strokes, clever fingers moving over his cock and it feels so good Steve can't think straight and not only is he foiled by Danny's belt buckle, he can't even get Danny's shirt off, the damn buttons are in the way so he settles for shoving his hands down the back of Danny's pants and exploring the curve of his ass.
"Do I have to do everything around here?" Danny mutters against Steve's neck as he rises up on his knees and impatiently unbuckles his belt, unfastens his pants and pushes them down past his hips.
With a triumphant cry Steve twists and pushes Danny down flat onto the couch, stretching out over him and settling between his legs. Danny is right there with him, pushing Steve's pants down out of the way as their hips nestle together.
"Now that's teamwork," Steve tells him, rocking his hips against Danny's warm skin.
"Teamwork? What, I'm doing all the work--" Danny breaks off with a groan as Steve slips a hand between them and grabs Danny's cock. It's solid and silky smooth against his palm.
"You saying something?" Steve squeezes and Danny can only stutter and moan. "What? I can't hear you."
What he hears next are broken-off curses as Danny grabs his collar and hauls him down into a bruising kiss. Steve owns the kiss this time, though, licking into Danny's mouth as he strokes Danny's cock, rubbing his thumb over the now-slick head. Danny groans and grabs Steve's ass, squeezing as he pushes into Steve's hand, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. His fingers twitch as he gasps into Steve's mouth and comes, wetness spilling over Steve's fingers.
Steve pulls back and watches Danny's face--eyes screwed tightly shut, cheeks flushed, mouth open as he groans with pleasure. It's a thrill to see Danny so completely undone, it's so hot Steve can barely stand it. He grinds against Danny's hip, rubbing his cock over slick, sweaty skin, head hanging down and Danny's lips are against his ear, panting and whispering encouragement in that low voice and god, he's got a thing for that voice now and with shivery rush of pleasure Steve comes, all over Danny's stomach and he's holding Danny's shoulder so tight there are going to be bruises and it's almost too wonderful to bear.
When it's all over, Steve raises his head, breathless and maybe a bit giddy. Then Danny grins up at him, hair completely askew and yeah, Steve's heading full force into giddy and he may never stop grinning.
"Hey, you know what?" Danny asks, lips moving over Steve's cheek.
"What?"
"My leg doesn't hurt anymore."
"Told you I'd make it feel better," Steve tells him proudly. He kisses Danny, soft and lazy and slow.
Danny laughs and shakes his head. "This is nuts, you know that."
Steve shrugs. "No crazier than anything else I've done."
"Thank you for that. I think." Danny raises an eyebrow. "Now please tell me you have an actual bed somewhere. Because this couch is not quite cutting it."
Steve rolls off Danny and stands up, hitching his pants up so he can walk. He holds out a hand with a grand gesture and after a moment's hesitation Danny takes it and lets Steve pull him up off the couch.
"And this time," Steve insists, "you are taking all your clothes off."
"What? What 'this time'? You think by just entering your magical bedroom I'll be ready to go all over over again?" Danny stumbles over his sagging pants as Steve pushes him forward.
"Uh uh," Steve says as he herds Danny into his bedroom. "And this time, we're taking it slow. Your leg is going to feel fantastic, I promise you."
And Danny laughs as he lets Steve push him down onto the bed.
Fandom: H50
Pairing: Danny/Steve
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2320
Summary: Danny and Steve bicker. Then have sex. What, it's what they do on the show, right?
Authors note: I think the title refers more to me than the fic. And it's all lamardeuse's fault. ETA: A big thank you to the lovely bibliokat for spotting those typos!
Inevitable
Steve's day off is suddenly brightened by Danny, barging into his home as usual. "I'd like you to know this is all your fault," he says without preamble.
"Hi, Danny, come right on in," Steve says with a roll of his eyes, even though he welcomes the distraction. He yanks out the piece of wood he's been trying to fit in between two studs. "You want to help?"
"No, I don't want to help," Danny says, as if the very suggestion is ludicrous. "I'm here to point out to you that I'm injured, and it's your fault."
Tossing the plank aside, Steve cocks his head and looks Danny over. Carefully. He doesn't see any sign of injury, just Danny standing square and resolute as usual. He's resplendent in his 'day off' clothes, which are exactly the same as his work clothes, minus the tie. Then it hits him.
"Oh, crap, did you injure your knee again?" he asks, worried. Still, Danny isn't using the cane, which is a good sign.
"No, it's not my knee, it's my leg, this muscle right here." Danny ducks his head and rubs his knuckles over the top of his left thigh. "It's killing me. I strained it running down the cliff yesterday after those perps."
"Mountain," Steve corrects Danny. "It was a mountain, not a cliff." Still, he's touched that Danny came all the way over just to share it with him.
"Don't tell me it wasn't a cliff. I may be from the mainland, but I know a cliff when I see one," Danny explains. "And when I'm running headlong down one. And why am I running down a cliff? Because you, you seem completely unaware of the fact that detective work is about tactics and outsmarting the bad guys, not just throwing yourself at them at the first possible opportunity."
"Ooooh," Steve says, nodding his head. "Is that how it works? Let me guess, you know this because you have eighty-six solved murder cases under your belt--"
"Eighty-seven," Danny says.
"Eighty-seven, not counting how many you've solved since we've become partners, and that is, oh, how many cases?" Steve waits, hands on his hips, and when Danny remains silent, looking more obstinate than ever, Steve continues,"one hundred percent of them?"
"That is not the point." Danny stalks across the room. "The point is, if I'm dead, I can't catch any more bad guys. And you would feel the guilt for the rest of your life. Ow." Danny frowns and rubs his thigh. "It keeps cramping up. This all your fault. Right here." He points to his leg and glares at Steve.
"Okay." Steve approaches Danny. "Let me see that."
Danny's eyes immediately go wary. "What, you have a thing for my thighs?"
"Yes, Danny. I do." Steve grins. And hey, maybe he does. He has a thing for pretty much everything Danny, from his squinting eyes to his quick, expressive hands and for the hollow of his throat which is exposed today, since the first two buttons of his shirt are daringly undone. With a hand to Danny's shoulder, he pushes Danny back onto his desk. "Here, sit."
"What am I, a dog?" Nonetheless, Danny perches on Steve's desk.
Steve puts his hands on Danny's left thigh, circling it with his fingers, exploring the feel of the muscle. "Since this is apparently all my fault, it's up to me to make it better."
"Is that some kind of island thing?" Danny asks with a scowl. "You cause someone bodily harm, you have to fondle their thighs? Because if it is, it's something I should know about."
"No," Steve says. "But I think it should be, huh?" He squeezes, digging his thumbs in now, working the muscle.
After a moment Danny leans back on his arms and lets out a low grunt. "Okay. You know, that's--that's kind of nice."
Danny is watching from under his eyelashes and his voice has gone soft and breathy, words slurring together. Steve decides it's what Danny would sound like in bed, and he wants to hear more of it. He moves closer, kneading Danny's thigh, hands moving more gently as the tension in the muscle eases.
"You're getting off on this, aren't you?" Teasing now, but Danny's voice is still soft.
Steve purses his lips as if thinking it over. "I could, if you want me to."
Danny laughs, ducking his head. "You're a wackjob, you know that? Like a total, lunatic wackjob."
Steve has to smile at that, because Danny just might be right.
"What's with the look?" Danny asks.
"What? What look?" Afraid he's given too much away, Steve removes his hands from Danny's thigh and steps back. But Danny grabs him by the wrists and tugs him in again, until he's standing between Danny's legs.
"The look you just gave me, all warm and fuzzy-like," Danny says.
Steve scoffs. "Warm and fuzzy? Right." He wants to remind Danny he was a Navy SEAL. He doesn't do warm and fuzzy.
"And, by the way, I didn't say you could stop." Danny places Steve's hands on his thigh again and Steve laughs.
"I think the question is," Steve says, curling a hand around Danny's thigh. "Are you getting off on this?"
"Move it a little further north and I'll let you know."
Steve steps closer, gliding his thumb up along Danny's inner thigh and Danny chuckles, shaking his head as if Steve just proved his point about being a whackjob. Steve knows he should just back away now and laugh it off, that he should forget about Danny's damn thigh and all the other parts his hands are itching to touch. But Danny's face is right there, and as Steve leans in closer, Danny's expression grows quizzical. Like Steve is the biggest puzzle he's ever come across and damn it, some day he's going to figure Steve out.
"You make me crazy, you know that?" Danny murmurs.
His voice has gone soft again, almost silky now. Steve can't can resist any longer, he throws himself over the cliff with a heart-pounding rush, leaning in and pressing his lips to Danny's. He's amazed when Danny kisses him back, lips soft and eager and it's sweeter than Steve has ever imagined, especially when Danny reaches up and wraps a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.
And then it's all over.
"No," Danny says, pushing Steve away. "No. I'm not doing this." He twists out of Steve's grasp, sliding off the desk and backing away.
"Danny," Steve says, and fuck, he didn't want to freak Danny out, he was so sure Danny had wanted the same thing he did--
"Uh uh, no, don't Danny me." Danny's hands are in full motion and he's gesturing to himself before pointing at Steve. "I am not doing this with you. Because you are crazy. No freakin' way am I going to get involved with a guy who runs down cliffs and swims under battleships and drives a million miles an hour on dirt roads."
And Steve smiles. Danny isn't having a big gay freak-out, or telling him that he doesn't like Steve in that way.
"Wait, why are you smiling?" Danny looks completely bewildered.
"Those aren't good enough reasons," Steve explains.
"What do you mean those aren't good enough reasons, they're my reasons, and you don't get to judge whether they're good enough for you--"
Steve looks at his watch. "You have five seconds to come up with a real reason why I shouldn't kiss you."
"What?" Danny's hands shift into second gear, making a detour to his forehead before reaching out beseechingly. "Five seconds? What is with you? This isn't some Navy SEAL interrogation--"
"Five," Steve begins.
"No, no, you don't get to do this--"
"Four."
"I don't believe this. You are, you are a crazy, crazy man and I take back every nice thing I ever said about you--"
Steve is enjoying himself thoroughly. "Three."
"Oh, great. Now I'm crazy too."
Danny moves faster than Steve anticipates. Before he can get to "two", Danny is in his face, pulling him down for a kiss. This is nothing at all like the first kiss, nothing sweet at all about it. This kiss is all heat and fury, with Danny's fists in his tee-shirt and Danny's tongue in his mouth and it's maybe the best kiss Steve has ever experienced so he hangs onto Danny however he can. He doesn't want it to end but Danny pulls away abruptly--again--and damn it, he's going to make Steve even crazier than he already is.
"Could you please stop being so damn tall?" Danny growls as he pushes Steve toward the couch.
Relieved, Steve goes willingly, letting Danny shove him around and the moment his back hits the cushions Danny is on his lap, straddling his legs. With a hand sliding through Steve's hair, Danny resumes kissing and Steve moans into it. The best kiss just got even better--now Steve can get his hands on Danny's ass, and as soon as he does, Danny ups the ante, reaching down and flattening his palm over Steve's crotch.
Steve grins into the kiss when Danny discovers he's already hard. Danny shakes his head and nips gently at his lower lip, chuckling as he rubs Steve's cock through his pants. Steve squirms and damn it, they need to be naked right now, but he only gets as far as untucking Danny's shirt and slipping his hands underneath. He's distracted by the broad expanse of Danny's back, the feel of warm skin under his hands.
Danny is way ahead of him, unfastening Steve's pants and sliding his hand inside, directly on Steve's cock. Steve breaks off the kiss, panting, his head falling back against the wall.
"Danny," he says brokenly. "Slow down."
"No can do."
Danny nuzzles his neck and pulls Steve's cock free from his briefs. Steve tries to push up but he can't, not with Danny on his lap, one firm hand on his shoulder, holding him down as he strokes, clever fingers moving over his cock and it feels so good Steve can't think straight and not only is he foiled by Danny's belt buckle, he can't even get Danny's shirt off, the damn buttons are in the way so he settles for shoving his hands down the back of Danny's pants and exploring the curve of his ass.
"Do I have to do everything around here?" Danny mutters against Steve's neck as he rises up on his knees and impatiently unbuckles his belt, unfastens his pants and pushes them down past his hips.
With a triumphant cry Steve twists and pushes Danny down flat onto the couch, stretching out over him and settling between his legs. Danny is right there with him, pushing Steve's pants down out of the way as their hips nestle together.
"Now that's teamwork," Steve tells him, rocking his hips against Danny's warm skin.
"Teamwork? What, I'm doing all the work--" Danny breaks off with a groan as Steve slips a hand between them and grabs Danny's cock. It's solid and silky smooth against his palm.
"You saying something?" Steve squeezes and Danny can only stutter and moan. "What? I can't hear you."
What he hears next are broken-off curses as Danny grabs his collar and hauls him down into a bruising kiss. Steve owns the kiss this time, though, licking into Danny's mouth as he strokes Danny's cock, rubbing his thumb over the now-slick head. Danny groans and grabs Steve's ass, squeezing as he pushes into Steve's hand, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. His fingers twitch as he gasps into Steve's mouth and comes, wetness spilling over Steve's fingers.
Steve pulls back and watches Danny's face--eyes screwed tightly shut, cheeks flushed, mouth open as he groans with pleasure. It's a thrill to see Danny so completely undone, it's so hot Steve can barely stand it. He grinds against Danny's hip, rubbing his cock over slick, sweaty skin, head hanging down and Danny's lips are against his ear, panting and whispering encouragement in that low voice and god, he's got a thing for that voice now and with shivery rush of pleasure Steve comes, all over Danny's stomach and he's holding Danny's shoulder so tight there are going to be bruises and it's almost too wonderful to bear.
When it's all over, Steve raises his head, breathless and maybe a bit giddy. Then Danny grins up at him, hair completely askew and yeah, Steve's heading full force into giddy and he may never stop grinning.
"Hey, you know what?" Danny asks, lips moving over Steve's cheek.
"What?"
"My leg doesn't hurt anymore."
"Told you I'd make it feel better," Steve tells him proudly. He kisses Danny, soft and lazy and slow.
Danny laughs and shakes his head. "This is nuts, you know that."
Steve shrugs. "No crazier than anything else I've done."
"Thank you for that. I think." Danny raises an eyebrow. "Now please tell me you have an actual bed somewhere. Because this couch is not quite cutting it."
Steve rolls off Danny and stands up, hitching his pants up so he can walk. He holds out a hand with a grand gesture and after a moment's hesitation Danny takes it and lets Steve pull him up off the couch.
"And this time," Steve insists, "you are taking all your clothes off."
"What? What 'this time'? You think by just entering your magical bedroom I'll be ready to go all over over again?" Danny stumbles over his sagging pants as Steve pushes him forward.
"Uh uh," Steve says as he herds Danny into his bedroom. "And this time, we're taking it slow. Your leg is going to feel fantastic, I promise you."
And Danny laughs as he lets Steve push him down onto the bed.