H5O Fic: Blackout
Fandom: Hawaii Five O
Title: Blackout
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Rated: PG13
Notes: I miss my show, when does it come back?!!!
[ blackout ]
by kHo
“Here's what I'm saying.”
“Oh, God, please, please, for the love of all that's holy move!”
“Not gonna work, babe, you've tried it fifteen times. Kicking inanimate objects doesn't work, learn the lesson.”
“Will kicking you work?”
“You've tried that before, too.”
“But not fifteen times.”
“The sixth wont be the charm either. But here's what I'm saying.”
Steve slides down the wall and crumples into the heap of his legs. “I don't care what you're saying, don't you care that I don't care?”
“Not really no, but a man needs real food. You know? Real food. And it's not that I don't love tuna as much as the next guy that ate a tuna melt at 2am to stave off the inevitable hangover, but I need a man's meal. A guy's type dinner.”
Steve thunks his head on the wall behind him. “Uhuh.”
“Meat, Steven. Meat is what a man needs to survive.”
Steve sighs. “I keep telling you, if you feel like sushi is your only choice of food in Hawaii, you're going to the wrong restaurants.”
Danny glares through the darkness at the top of Steve's head. “It's not lack of choice, it's that they don't do it right here.”
“And by right, you mean slather it in marinara sauce.”
“By right I mean you don't go to Arkansas to get good Mexican food, and you don't go to Hawaii to get a good lasagna, that's what I mean.”
“They have Stouffer's in every grocery store around here.”
“I should slap you,” Danny says, dead serious. If he squints, Steve can just make out the frown turning his lips down. “Not Stouffer's, ya savage, real lasagna. The kind of thing Nona slaved over the stove for six hours to make it just right, real lasagna.”
Steve chokes. “Six hours!”
“She made her own noodles,” Danny says wistfully.
“Right. Good,” Steve says, grabbing Danny's hand in his and patting it three times. “Great story, love the sharing, I do, but can we please shut up now? Please?”
“Oh, I'm sorry,” Danny says, snorting. “Did you have somewhere to be?”
“Danny, we're trapped in an elevator!”
Another snort. “Exactly.”
“Trapped, Danny. In an elevator. And you've been bitching, non-stop might I add, for the past two hours.”
“Hour and forty-five minutes.”
“For the past almost two hours, and Danny, really, I love you, but oh. God. Shut. Up.”
“There's no electricity.”
“Right.”
“Which means, in addition to the elevator being stuck, there's no light.”
“Correct.”
“Which also-- and oh yeah, it's July, which makes this next bit all the better-- means there's no air conditioning.”
“Uh huh.”
“And nothing to eat.”
“Nope.”
“Or drink.”
“Uh uh.”
“And nothing to do.”
“Right.”
“And I should shut up?”
“Yes. Yes, Danny. You should shut up.”
“Huh,” Danny says, and a sly smile that Steve can see even though he actually really can't. He can feel it. “How about you make me?”
He crosses his arms. “What?”
“Make. Me.”
“Oh my God,” Steve yells, pointing at him. “You were doing it on purpose!”
“I'm sure I don't know what you mean.”
“You've been droning on and on for the past two hours--”
“Hour and forty five minutes.”
“-- because you want to make out!”
“I'm up for more than making out. I have condoms in my wallet.”
“You dick,” Steve yells, swatting at Danny's shoulder. “Why didn't you just tell me that instead of making me listen to your diatribe!”
“You could have stopped me any time you wanted to.”
Steve's fingers wind in Danny's shirt. “I'm going to kill you.”
“Okay, but let's make out first,” Danny says, laughing.
“You know, all you had to do was tell me, we could have been making out this whole time,” Steve says, leaning closer, hovering just beyond Danny's lips.
“Yeah, but when you get annoyed you get all aggressive and pushy. I kind of like it.”
“Oh just shut up already,” Steve grumbles, and mashes their mouths together.
Which, of course, is exactly when the lights come on and the elevator moves.
Title: Blackout
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Rated: PG13
Notes: I miss my show, when does it come back?!!!
[ blackout ]
by kHo
“Here's what I'm saying.”
“Oh, God, please, please, for the love of all that's holy move!”
“Not gonna work, babe, you've tried it fifteen times. Kicking inanimate objects doesn't work, learn the lesson.”
“Will kicking you work?”
“You've tried that before, too.”
“But not fifteen times.”
“The sixth wont be the charm either. But here's what I'm saying.”
Steve slides down the wall and crumples into the heap of his legs. “I don't care what you're saying, don't you care that I don't care?”
“Not really no, but a man needs real food. You know? Real food. And it's not that I don't love tuna as much as the next guy that ate a tuna melt at 2am to stave off the inevitable hangover, but I need a man's meal. A guy's type dinner.”
Steve thunks his head on the wall behind him. “Uhuh.”
“Meat, Steven. Meat is what a man needs to survive.”
Steve sighs. “I keep telling you, if you feel like sushi is your only choice of food in Hawaii, you're going to the wrong restaurants.”
Danny glares through the darkness at the top of Steve's head. “It's not lack of choice, it's that they don't do it right here.”
“And by right, you mean slather it in marinara sauce.”
“By right I mean you don't go to Arkansas to get good Mexican food, and you don't go to Hawaii to get a good lasagna, that's what I mean.”
“They have Stouffer's in every grocery store around here.”
“I should slap you,” Danny says, dead serious. If he squints, Steve can just make out the frown turning his lips down. “Not Stouffer's, ya savage, real lasagna. The kind of thing Nona slaved over the stove for six hours to make it just right, real lasagna.”
Steve chokes. “Six hours!”
“She made her own noodles,” Danny says wistfully.
“Right. Good,” Steve says, grabbing Danny's hand in his and patting it three times. “Great story, love the sharing, I do, but can we please shut up now? Please?”
“Oh, I'm sorry,” Danny says, snorting. “Did you have somewhere to be?”
“Danny, we're trapped in an elevator!”
Another snort. “Exactly.”
“Trapped, Danny. In an elevator. And you've been bitching, non-stop might I add, for the past two hours.”
“Hour and forty-five minutes.”
“For the past almost two hours, and Danny, really, I love you, but oh. God. Shut. Up.”
“There's no electricity.”
“Right.”
“Which means, in addition to the elevator being stuck, there's no light.”
“Correct.”
“Which also-- and oh yeah, it's July, which makes this next bit all the better-- means there's no air conditioning.”
“Uh huh.”
“And nothing to eat.”
“Nope.”
“Or drink.”
“Uh uh.”
“And nothing to do.”
“Right.”
“And I should shut up?”
“Yes. Yes, Danny. You should shut up.”
“Huh,” Danny says, and a sly smile that Steve can see even though he actually really can't. He can feel it. “How about you make me?”
He crosses his arms. “What?”
“Make. Me.”
“Oh my God,” Steve yells, pointing at him. “You were doing it on purpose!”
“I'm sure I don't know what you mean.”
“You've been droning on and on for the past two hours--”
“Hour and forty five minutes.”
“-- because you want to make out!”
“I'm up for more than making out. I have condoms in my wallet.”
“You dick,” Steve yells, swatting at Danny's shoulder. “Why didn't you just tell me that instead of making me listen to your diatribe!”
“You could have stopped me any time you wanted to.”
Steve's fingers wind in Danny's shirt. “I'm going to kill you.”
“Okay, but let's make out first,” Danny says, laughing.
“You know, all you had to do was tell me, we could have been making out this whole time,” Steve says, leaning closer, hovering just beyond Danny's lips.
“Yeah, but when you get annoyed you get all aggressive and pushy. I kind of like it.”
“Oh just shut up already,” Steve grumbles, and mashes their mouths together.
Which, of course, is exactly when the lights come on and the elevator moves.