H5O Fic: Just the Thing
Author/Artist: annieke
Title: Just the Thing
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 1350
Summary: Danny reflects on where he is in his life.
A little sweet. a little schmoop. a little sap.
Also at AO3 here
The thing of it is, it was only supposed to be temporary.
Yes, he'd followed the love of his life out here-Grace, not Rachel-and, no, at the end of the day, he wouldn't be anywhere else.
Still, though, he'd always thought of the move here as temporary. Was sure it'd be two years, three at the max and then Stan would be off to some other project and they'd all-yes, he'll always go where Grace goes-move back to the mainland and he'd be done with palm trees with the occasional falling coconut and sand and sun and…well, everything that's not New Jersey.
Not that he'd think he'd finally end up in New Jersey necessarily, he gets that, and, really, he is okay with that. Stan has options for projects all over the states (eventually the world, and doesn’t that send a shiver down his spine) so yeah, at some point Stan and Rachel will be moving again, which means Grace will be moving, which means they're all going to head back to the land of normal civilization eventually (he'd say back to the land of normal pizza with normal toppings but, honestly, that disgusting Hawaiian pizza has been on Domino's menu for years, not that he'd ever admit that to Steve)-and the thing of it is, he doesn't want to do that anymore. Doesn't really think about it so much anymore-moving back to New Jersey-which should be a lot bigger eye opener but really isn't so much so when he thinks hard enough about it.
Four years he's been here now, and like he said when the possibility of the Las Vegas move loomed last year, he really doesn't want to leave now.
Weird, right? Except not really. Not really at all.
O'ahu, and specifically Honolulu, is starting to look a lot like home. He's found a fairly decent place to live, finally. One that's not costing him both arms and a leg, with enough moolah left over each month that he can finally stick some away for Grace's college fund, never mind that Rachel assures him Stan will have that covered when the time comes.
It's nice, though, his little place. Roomy enough for Grace to have her own room, roomy enough to litter his living room with her things without them taking it over, although she is, thankfully, growing out of the everything needs to be pink phase. Mahalo for that.
Still, his new house is a nice place in a nice neighborhood, thankfully, and he doesn't have to worry about drunks or drug addicts or ghosts…or his car-his new car-being broken into at night. He's even become fond of the neighbors, especially Mrs. Yokimura, who seems equally fond of him, and brings him a plate of her home-cooked meal almost every Sunday (never mind he's now eating things he would never have considered eating just a few years back).
She seems to have adopted him as one of her own-has taken to calling him Danny-chan, then giggles to herself as she says it. Thing is, though, while he doesn't know exactly what it means, he does figure it's some sort of endearment as she says it with the same affection in her voice as is there when she speaks to her kids. The same affection he's now using to call to the little black and white cat that has found and adopted him. Kitty-chan.
Kitty-chan is definitely a stray and used to fending for itself. For whatever reason, it's decided that the little sunny patch by his front door in the morning is its favorite place to snooze, and he's decided that leaving it some food and water every day is the least he can offer. Just last week it let him give it a good scratch behind the ears, purring all the while.
Kind of like the purring currently beside him-well, the snoring, anyway. There's a deep, soft rumbling that's occasionally punctuated by a sharp seal-like bark, and that thought has him chuckling. SEAL bark is definitely more like it, and he's pretty sure that's what's awakened him at what the hell time? Oh, three-oh-three this very morning.
He shifts onto his side and props himself up on one arm, fingers reaching out through the faint shadows of the room, because like his new kitty friend, it's very hard not to reach out and pet. Steve's hair is still shorter than it used to be, but it's soft and looks inviting enough, just like his little Kitty-chan, and he can't help but lightly run his fingers over it, being careful not to wake the man which is no easy feat. Steve's a light enough sleeper, enough so even a hair falling onto the floor might have him awake and primed. They've had a high-energy week, though, and now that they're all off for the next few days, Steve's snoring is a testament to just how exhausted he is-they all are.
Which is another thing holding him here, he thinks. The job. He loves it. Never mind Steve shanghaied him into it, initially, with neither of them truly knowing just what they were in for when it all started. Never mind the pretty over-the-top events they've been a part of-or caused in some cases, for shit's sake-because after four years, he honest-to-god wouldn't change a thing. Not a damn thing. He's doing what he wants to do-make this world a safer place. Or island, anyway, and even with Steve and his insane antics exploding like mini-bombs around him on a daily basis, life is turning out to be pretty damn good.
No, wouldn't change a thing, he thinks again. Not living here. Definitely not having Steve here. Steve, who he never thought would end up in his bed at the end of the day, and didn't that come as a surprise after a whole hell of a lot of drinks, one not so subtle move on his part and one hell of a joint admission on both their parts. Still, they've been a long time finally coming together, he thinks. No pun intended.
Steve snuffles and snorts, and Danny peers down at him feeling a swell of warmth rise to flush his skin. There's deep emotion here-he knows this. Has known this, that he's got a mix of utter fondness, lust (oh hell, yes, there's a lot of lust), complete flat-out attraction and, dare he think, that other 'L' word all brewing together to form a Steve and Danny cement he hopes will bond forever. What can he say, deep down, he's a true romantic.
"Hey? Why you up-you okay?" Steve suddenly grumbles out with a sleep-rough voice and a half raise effort of a hand. His fingers brush lightly over Danny's cheek while his eyes open and then shut again, almost in the same blink.
"Yeah," Danny replies with a whisper of a smile and a press of lips to Steve's forehead in a move weirdly reminiscent of him kissing Grace goodnight and he knows that's the 'L' word rearing its ridiculously romantic head again. "More than okay, babe," he adds with what he knows is a grossly love-sick smile that he can't seem to curtail no matter how much he tries-thank god it's still pretty dark in the room-and he then snuggles up behind Steve to drape an arm and leg over Steve's torso and legs in a move filled with shameless possessiveness.
He breaths him in deeply, Steve's skin cool against his own and thinks that even now, with his life full of constant sun, occasional bullets and unpredictable situations, not to mention one crazy Lieutenant Commander commandeering his car-his new car-on a daily basis, he can honestly say he wouldn't have it any other way.
Because the thing of it is, at the end of the day, he'll admit that with this man, he's found home, and he wouldn’t be anywhere else. Couldn't be anywhere else.
Besides, who would feed the kitty?
End.
Title: Just the Thing
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 1350
Summary: Danny reflects on where he is in his life.
A little sweet. a little schmoop. a little sap.
Also at AO3 here
The thing of it is, it was only supposed to be temporary.
Yes, he'd followed the love of his life out here-Grace, not Rachel-and, no, at the end of the day, he wouldn't be anywhere else.
Still, though, he'd always thought of the move here as temporary. Was sure it'd be two years, three at the max and then Stan would be off to some other project and they'd all-yes, he'll always go where Grace goes-move back to the mainland and he'd be done with palm trees with the occasional falling coconut and sand and sun and…well, everything that's not New Jersey.
Not that he'd think he'd finally end up in New Jersey necessarily, he gets that, and, really, he is okay with that. Stan has options for projects all over the states (eventually the world, and doesn’t that send a shiver down his spine) so yeah, at some point Stan and Rachel will be moving again, which means Grace will be moving, which means they're all going to head back to the land of normal civilization eventually (he'd say back to the land of normal pizza with normal toppings but, honestly, that disgusting Hawaiian pizza has been on Domino's menu for years, not that he'd ever admit that to Steve)-and the thing of it is, he doesn't want to do that anymore. Doesn't really think about it so much anymore-moving back to New Jersey-which should be a lot bigger eye opener but really isn't so much so when he thinks hard enough about it.
Four years he's been here now, and like he said when the possibility of the Las Vegas move loomed last year, he really doesn't want to leave now.
Weird, right? Except not really. Not really at all.
O'ahu, and specifically Honolulu, is starting to look a lot like home. He's found a fairly decent place to live, finally. One that's not costing him both arms and a leg, with enough moolah left over each month that he can finally stick some away for Grace's college fund, never mind that Rachel assures him Stan will have that covered when the time comes.
It's nice, though, his little place. Roomy enough for Grace to have her own room, roomy enough to litter his living room with her things without them taking it over, although she is, thankfully, growing out of the everything needs to be pink phase. Mahalo for that.
Still, his new house is a nice place in a nice neighborhood, thankfully, and he doesn't have to worry about drunks or drug addicts or ghosts…or his car-his new car-being broken into at night. He's even become fond of the neighbors, especially Mrs. Yokimura, who seems equally fond of him, and brings him a plate of her home-cooked meal almost every Sunday (never mind he's now eating things he would never have considered eating just a few years back).
She seems to have adopted him as one of her own-has taken to calling him Danny-chan, then giggles to herself as she says it. Thing is, though, while he doesn't know exactly what it means, he does figure it's some sort of endearment as she says it with the same affection in her voice as is there when she speaks to her kids. The same affection he's now using to call to the little black and white cat that has found and adopted him. Kitty-chan.
Kitty-chan is definitely a stray and used to fending for itself. For whatever reason, it's decided that the little sunny patch by his front door in the morning is its favorite place to snooze, and he's decided that leaving it some food and water every day is the least he can offer. Just last week it let him give it a good scratch behind the ears, purring all the while.
Kind of like the purring currently beside him-well, the snoring, anyway. There's a deep, soft rumbling that's occasionally punctuated by a sharp seal-like bark, and that thought has him chuckling. SEAL bark is definitely more like it, and he's pretty sure that's what's awakened him at what the hell time? Oh, three-oh-three this very morning.
He shifts onto his side and props himself up on one arm, fingers reaching out through the faint shadows of the room, because like his new kitty friend, it's very hard not to reach out and pet. Steve's hair is still shorter than it used to be, but it's soft and looks inviting enough, just like his little Kitty-chan, and he can't help but lightly run his fingers over it, being careful not to wake the man which is no easy feat. Steve's a light enough sleeper, enough so even a hair falling onto the floor might have him awake and primed. They've had a high-energy week, though, and now that they're all off for the next few days, Steve's snoring is a testament to just how exhausted he is-they all are.
Which is another thing holding him here, he thinks. The job. He loves it. Never mind Steve shanghaied him into it, initially, with neither of them truly knowing just what they were in for when it all started. Never mind the pretty over-the-top events they've been a part of-or caused in some cases, for shit's sake-because after four years, he honest-to-god wouldn't change a thing. Not a damn thing. He's doing what he wants to do-make this world a safer place. Or island, anyway, and even with Steve and his insane antics exploding like mini-bombs around him on a daily basis, life is turning out to be pretty damn good.
No, wouldn't change a thing, he thinks again. Not living here. Definitely not having Steve here. Steve, who he never thought would end up in his bed at the end of the day, and didn't that come as a surprise after a whole hell of a lot of drinks, one not so subtle move on his part and one hell of a joint admission on both their parts. Still, they've been a long time finally coming together, he thinks. No pun intended.
Steve snuffles and snorts, and Danny peers down at him feeling a swell of warmth rise to flush his skin. There's deep emotion here-he knows this. Has known this, that he's got a mix of utter fondness, lust (oh hell, yes, there's a lot of lust), complete flat-out attraction and, dare he think, that other 'L' word all brewing together to form a Steve and Danny cement he hopes will bond forever. What can he say, deep down, he's a true romantic.
"Hey? Why you up-you okay?" Steve suddenly grumbles out with a sleep-rough voice and a half raise effort of a hand. His fingers brush lightly over Danny's cheek while his eyes open and then shut again, almost in the same blink.
"Yeah," Danny replies with a whisper of a smile and a press of lips to Steve's forehead in a move weirdly reminiscent of him kissing Grace goodnight and he knows that's the 'L' word rearing its ridiculously romantic head again. "More than okay, babe," he adds with what he knows is a grossly love-sick smile that he can't seem to curtail no matter how much he tries-thank god it's still pretty dark in the room-and he then snuggles up behind Steve to drape an arm and leg over Steve's torso and legs in a move filled with shameless possessiveness.
He breaths him in deeply, Steve's skin cool against his own and thinks that even now, with his life full of constant sun, occasional bullets and unpredictable situations, not to mention one crazy Lieutenant Commander commandeering his car-his new car-on a daily basis, he can honestly say he wouldn't have it any other way.
Because the thing of it is, at the end of the day, he'll admit that with this man, he's found home, and he wouldn’t be anywhere else. Couldn't be anywhere else.
Besides, who would feed the kitty?
End.