H50 fic
Title: Kiss and Tell
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Steve/Danno
Summary: This is a story about kissing and very little else.
Author’s note: It’s a bit confused. And as is my wont - apparently - incredibly fluffy. In fact, this right here is the fic that inspired me to try for something less mushy and write Stranded. I’m immensely grateful to riverotter1951for betaing this.
Disclaimer: This begins to feel more and more like my very own version of an AA meeting - Not mine, no profit!
“We need to talk about this.” Danny announces completely out of the blue. They are on their way to Steve’s place. The plan is simple. They are going to wind down from the mother of all chaotic days by kicking back with a couple of cold ones. Steve’s a little shell-shocked to say the least. He did not expect this at all. Not now. He’s expected this weeks ago. Expected it after that first time at the bar.
***
It’s been a good day. They arrested an arms dealer, wrapped up their case and no one got hurt. So Steve suggested they’d head out to a bar and celebrate with a few cold ones. Chin and Kono begged out early. Saying something about it being Friday night and them actually having a life. And now it’s just him and Danny. They are close enough to the beach to actually hear the sound of the waves hitting the shore but too far from anywhere exciting to be considered a tourist hot spot or draw in the local crowd and Danny’s lost his tie two Longboards ago. Things are good in the state of Hawaii.
They are arguing about something or other. Steve isn’t quite sure what the exact issue is right this moment. He isn’t even that drunk yet. It’s just that Danny changes topics faster than an automatic can fire three rounds in quick succession and that Steve is in the mood to disagree with absolutely everything coming out of the other man’s mouth just for the principle of the thing. Actually it may not be for the principle at all. It may just be the fact that Danny is animated and feels like he’s got to make Steve see his point. He argues good-naturedly, all soft touches and laughter and ‘no, listen to me’s’. And at the moment he is all Steve’s.
Danny says, “You are so full of shit, McGarrett”, like it’s a compliment. He leans in so close that Steve’s nostrils fill with the light scent of his after-shave. Steve pats Danny’s head partly to annoy the other man, but mostly because he’s had the urge to mess with Danny’s hair every time Danny combs his hand through his absurdly attractive attempt at a hairstyle. Danny makes a sound of mock-affront in the back of his throat and swats his hand away. In retaliation Danny apparently decides to bite Steve’s cheek. His nose pokes the side of Steve’s face and he chuckles as his effort to bite his partner fail. Instead Danny licks slowly along his cheek, like his tasting Steve, and his teeth scratch playfully against his jaw. He ends up smacking his lips lightly against Steve’s cheek. Steve doesn’t dare move. His heart is beating too fast and his whole world has just been tipped off-kilter. But Danny merely grins at him brightly and continues to praise the musical genius that is Jon Bon Jovi.
***
So, yeah, Steve definitely expected a ‘we need to talk’ after that incident. He thought Danny would rant and rave and demand they have it all out. Finally face this thing between them that had been building up ever since they first set eyes and pulled their weapons on each other. This unfathomable and dizzying thing that gained momentum with every shared car ride, every argument and every single freaking glance they’ve shared.
But Danny doesn’t talk about it. He reads him the riot act about proper police procedure like every other Monday morning. He also holds a lengthy monologue about the travesty that is pineapple-flavored pasta. And offers a few choice words on the topic of surfboards and people who place said surfboards were other people might want to walk. All in all he acts completely normal. Maybe he doesn’t remember. Maybe he had more to drink than Steve realized. Maybe he thinks of the entire incident as an alcohol-fueled slip-up that they are both better off forgetting. The next time can’t be blamed on alcohol, however.
***
Steve arrives at the crime scene in record time, but even with ignoring the speed limit completely he still doesn’t make it before HPD and the fire department. The place is a mess and there are people busy everywhere. The warehouse is still partly on fire and there are debris and fragments of glass scattered all over the place. He spots Kono and hurries over to her. She looks unharmed, but he still makes himself ask her how she is before he asks about Danny.
“We split up. I took the rear entrance. Danny went up front. He was pretty damn close to the explosion. The blast actually flung him backwards. They are examining him over there,” she says pointing at the ambulance on the other side of the road, “I think he’s okay, though.”
Steve’s heart is doing somersaults and his stomach is in knots as he runs over to the ambulance. Danny’s hoisted up in the back, sitting on the edge and grimacing at him. He’s got soot all over him and there are shards of glass stuck in his hair. There are a couple of cuts and bruises visible on his arms and his clothes are somewhat torn, but it looks like nothing worse happened to him.
“Good news is I’m not deaf anymore,” he informs Steve loudly, “bad news is my ears are ringing like you wouldn’t even believe. And, fuck, my back hurts.”
The wave of sheer relief that hits Steve at the sight of his partner alive and well is almost overpowering. Words are beyond him at the moment. He takes one quick step forward, catches Danny’s face carefully in both hands and kisses him sloppily on the forehead. It’s all he’s able to do before the EMT returns from wherever he went off to and Steve steps neatly out of the way to let him take care of the cuts on Danny’s arm. Danny’s eyes are fixed on him and just like that he finds his voice again.
“I should have been there,” he says. And he should have. Danny’s his partner and has no business running into explosions without him by his side.
Danny treats him to his trademark ‘you are fucked in the head’-expression.
“And what would you have done? Stopped the explosion? Shielded me from the blast with your superhuman body armor? Hate to break it to you Schwarzenegger, but you’re not really built out of steel. Do me a favor? Stop being stupid and get me the hell out of here.”
Steve can totally do that.
***
Danny doesn’t bring that kiss up either. Not as Steve drives him home, not the next day or the day thereafter. Not at all. Steve begins to wonder whether it’s an issue at all. If he’s completely honest with himself he’s not that well-versed in the finer points of the interaction between close friends and maybe planting a kiss on another guy’s forehead is a completely legitimate way of showing you are grateful nothing bad happened to him. Maybe Danny doesn’t talk about the kiss because there’s nothing to talk about - not that that ever stopped Danny from talking about something before. It probably doesn’t count as a real kiss. Their first real kiss takes place a couple of days later.
Danny’s the most complicated man Steve’s ever met. He’s got all these rules for freaking everything. And yet their first kiss isn’t complicated at all. It’s easy and natural like the rest of their hastily formed partnership. Like their banter. Like bumping shoulders on the way out of the office. Like smiling at each other on the adrenaline high after a gun fight. And somehow Steve doubts that Danny would find that an appropriate comparison. The bill fits, though.
***
It happens on one of those mornings where Danny swings by his place before work. As always he strides into the house without knocking as if he lives there. He nods at Steve, mutters something about coffee and makes a beeline for the kitchen.
“Good morning, Danno. Please feel free to rummage through my kitchen,” Steve shouts after him grinning brightly.
He downs the rest of his coffee before getting up and following Danny to the kitchen. By the time Steve reaches the door Danny leans against the kitchen counter, legs crossed, cup of coffee right beside him, smiling lazily as he unwraps a piece of chocolate that Steve won’t admit to storing in the fridge just for these occasions. Something in the pit of Steve’s stomach constricts at the way everything just falls into place around Danny. The way Danny belongs.
Without conscious thought he pads barefoot through his kitchen, gets right up into Danny’s space, bends forward and presses his hands down on the counter. One on either side of his partner. With a shrug of his shoulders Danny leans forward and meets him halfway. Their lips touch slowly but purposefully. Danny mumbles ‘morning’ into the kiss and Steve chuckles softly. He opens his lips to the careful probing of Danny’s tongue. His partner tastes like chocolate and coffee and something that is pure Danny and may just be highly addictive. The strokes of Danny’s tongue are slow and lazy and Steve realizes that he expected this to play out differently. Half-expected Danny to put up a fight. Expected this to get hot and messy quickly. But Danny’s lips are pliant under his and it’s gentle and deliberate and so, so sweet it hurts in all the right places. Eventually Steve presses a final kiss against Danny’s lips and bumps his forehead against Danny’s.
They stay like that for a moment or two breathing each other’s air. Then Steve goes of to find his shoes and Danny finishes his coffee. In the car Danny bitches about the fact that they get called out to crime scenes on the beach 7 out of 10 times and Steve tries to explain the concept of an island to him, which naturally leads to their sixth argument of Jersey vs. Hawaii that week.
***
Danny continues not talking about it. Not that last kiss. Or the one he pressed on the back of Steve’s hand in a joke. Or the way Steve tenderly kissed Danny’s temple after Danny had to bring Grace back to Rachel’s and looked so freaking lost that Steve didn’t know what else to do. Or the time Danny pressed him against the Camaro and proceeded to kiss him like the world’s about to end, because Steve’s almost been shot and Danny has - unbelievably - run out of things to yell at him at the top of his voice. Or the one Steve placed on the side of Danny’s neck after his morning swim when he found the other man waiting for him on the lanai in his tie and his patent leather loafers and just felt like making him squirm. Or the five other kisses they shared until it became just another thing they do. In between bickering and fighting crime and sharing stories about before they met they kiss.
The thing that’s really starting to get under Steve’s skin is Danny’s complete radio silence on the issue. He’s been waiting for Danny to bring up the kissing for way to long now. Dreading it. It’s beginning to really wear on his nerves. He knows he doesn’t come by showing emotions easy. Doesn’t exactly relish the thought of having to talk about his feelings. But Danny wears his heart on his sleeve. He doesn’t shy away from talking about emotional stuff ever. Which is why it is so weird that he hasn’t said anything on the subject, yet. Not even vague allusions.
“Are you even listening to me?” Danny interrupts his reverie. “I said we need to talk. You can’t go running into houses with possible terrorists in them without proper back-up…”
Steve’s face drops. That was really unexpected. He doesn’t even know how to feel. Can’t make sense of his own reaction. It’s the oddest mix of relief and frustration. Of course Danny notices.
“What’s with the face?”
Suddenly Steve is tired of the anticipation and the uncertainty and the waiting for Danny to talk.
“I thought you wanted to talk about the kissing.” He blurts out.
“The what?”
And Danny is really not that slow on the uptake ever. Just like that Steve feels angry.
“The kissing. You and me swapping spit.”
“Oh.”
It’s the most monosyllabic answer Steve’s ever gotten from Danny. The man can conduct a complete one-person-play in answer to the question if he would like some cream with his coffee. He tells Danny as much.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” Danny says noncommittally and, wow, that stings more than it has any right to. Steve doesn’t quite know how to handle the pain. He feels utterly vulnerable all of a sudden. Which makes him want to hit something. Do some real damage. They are still in the car, however, and that’s not an option. So he just shuts down. His hands grip the steering wheel tighter and he stares out at the road tensely. He sort of notices that Danny’s turned in his seat to scrutinize him but he doesn’t really care. At the moment it’s all he can do to keep a grip on himself.
“Stop the car,” Danny commands after a few moments and when Steve doesn’t react straight away he actually yells at him, “Stop the damn car right the fuck now!”
Instinct takes over and Steve hits the brakes hard. They stop abruptly, tires screeching, in the middle of freaking nowhere. Some deserted strip of coast road. Danny gets out of the car like its on fire and slams the door. Steve contemplates just driving away. Like that’s really happening. He’d never hear the end of it. He sighs in defeat and climbs out of the car, too. Danny’s pacing up and down. He looks even more wound-up than usual. His hands rotate through the air in grand silent gestures. At the sound of car door closing he whips around and stares at Steve furiously.
“You don’t get to do that,” Danny tells him. Gets right up in his face and pokes his chest. “You don’t shut me out. You wanna talk? Talk. Don’t give me the silent treatment. We talk, okay? It’s what we do.”
“Okay,” Steve agrees even though he doesn’t quite know what Danny’s so upset about. Danny keeps pacing. Is still agitated but now it’s his normal brand of agitation and not the violent red-hot anger from a second ago and Steve can deal with that.
“You wanna talk about the kissing?” Danno continues. “Fine, we can do that. Although I have to say, really? Really? You, Mr. I Know Seven Ways To Kill You With My Bare Hands But Emotions Scare The Shit Out Of Me, want to talk about your feelings? I did not see that one coming.”
“I really, really don’t.” Steve says truthfully.
“You brought it up.”
“You didn’t.”
And that right there is the problem. There is nothing he feels less inclined to do then talk about the fact that suddenly out of nowhere he started kissing his partner, his male partner. And not in a ‘let’s hit the nearest horizontal’-surface way either. He sure as hell doesn’t want to think about what that means. And yet, the fact that Danny doesn’t seem to want to talk about it irks him like crazy. He doesn’t know how to explain it. Not even to himself. Danny’ll understand, though. He always does. Understands him better than he does himself sometimes. As if on cue Danny, who has his head cocked to the side studying him closely, nods to himself.
“Look,” he says softly. “I didn’t say anything because that would have made it real. That would have meant we’d have to deal with this.”
He’s pointing at both of them and Steve opens his mouth to reply something, but Danny’s on a roll now, raising his voice. His hands stabbing the air again.
“I know that you are completely unaware of police regulations, but I’ve been on the job my whole life and I’m telling you there are rules for this sorta thing and those rules say you don’t kiss your partner. Ever. It’s a sure road to all kinds of hot messes. And since you, my friend, are insane - and I’m not talking your ordinary run-of-the-mill crazy I’m talking proper psychopath, in need of professional help crazy - you don’t care about the consequences of your actions. But I am a rational human being and therefore I know that us getting romantically involved is a monumentally stupid idea that can only lead to disaster. And so logic dictates that I should put a stop to this thing presto. Believe it or not, even with all the bat-shit insanity and the fearing for my life every single day, I still wanna keep this job. I have a daughter to think about after all.”
For the second time since he started this conversation Steve feels like Danny just knocked the wind out of his sails. At this rate he’s not even gonna make the night. And Danny’s just getting warmed-up. His words come out in a wild rush, a conglomerate of jumbled syllables and accompanying gesticulations. Like he’s been holding on to them too long. Steve is somewhat amazed that he managed to hold his tongue at all.
“Thing is I know that if I had brought it up and we talked about it. I would have had to be sensible and end this. And I just…,” Danny falters momentarily, “Well your crazy is contagious because I don’t want to. Stop smiling Steve. This is not a good thing. This means we’re both certifiable and willing to risk our partnership. Hell, this may even destroy the entire team.”
“It might not.”
“So what? We just keep going and hope to God that this doesn’t blow up in our faces? That’s one hell of a plan, McGarrett. As strategic ops go that’s not exactly jackpot-material.”
“I’ve heard worse.”
“You’ve executed worse. That’s not a valid argument. We’ve already established that you are off your meds and clinically unable to use common sense.”
And he may have a point because suddenly Steve doesn’t feel tense anymore. Danny’s being a worrywart, fretting and overanalyzing every last detail. Everything’s back to normal and Steve feels strangely high-spirited. All he can focus on is the way Danny bites his lips as he contemplates his next words. He dives in for a taste. It’s a gut reaction. No conscious thought whatsoever. Danny doesn’t resist. There isn’t even a moment of hesitation as he joins Steve in the kiss. Their lips lock in a smooth easygoing motion. It’s both natural and exciting. The familiar scratch of Danny’s stubble and the way his heart suddenly beats erratically. Danny tilts his head a little to the left and Steve deepens the kiss. One hand clasping the back of Danny’s neck automatically, while Danny’s hands dig themselves into Steve’s hips. It’s right there between them. The easy camaraderie, the trust and that sense of being completely in tune. When they finally break apart they are both breathing a little too loudly.
“Wow, that was really helpful, Steve.” Danny says sarcastically. Or with what would be sarcasm if he weren’t still a little out of breath.
“It didn’t hurt,” Steve says, smug grin plastered on his face. And because messing with Danny’s head doesn’t hurt either, he adds, “Stop worrying. That won’t solve anything.”
Danny’s expression is exasperated and he’s raising his hands skyward like he’s about to ask for heavenly guidance.
“Oh really, and since when are you an expert on healthy expressions of emotions?”
“Since I got emotionally involved with you,” Steve shoots back still smiling widely.
Danny stares at him, eyes almost comically wide.
“You think you are so cute,” he says with an aggrieved sigh. But he doesn’t refute Steve. Doesn’t continue to argue. Instead he moves in for another kiss. This time it’s different. Frantic, rough and needy. They are both fighting for control. Trying to take off the edge. Trying to get closer. They are moving against each other, touching and groping and absorbing each other’s sounds. It’s new and intense. Afterwards they are both panting so hard that neither of them is able to form words. They are leaning against each other slightly, trying to catch their breath. Steve monitors Danny for signs of a freak-out. Nothing happens. They are both silent for a while longer. He can see Danny taking in their environment for the first time.
“The beach, Steve. Seriously?” Danny says after a moment. As if Steve was the one who marched off here in a yelling fit. “Can you be a bigger stereotype?”
With that he strides off towards the Camaro and Steve follows him shaking his head. He watches Danny lean against the side of the car. One arm on the roof. Sliding out of his shoes, tipping them and letting the sand pour out. He’s muttering something under his breath about the plague of beaches and crazy-ass idiots who actually enjoy spending their time there. Steve is grinning so hard it actually hurts. His chest feels incredibly tight and they may as well revoke his Hawaiian citizenship right now, because the sight of his out and proud haole partner shaking sand from his patent leather loafers may be the most alluring thing he’s ever seen. He steps in for another kiss. Just because. There’ll be more words later. With Danny there always are. It shouldn’t feel this perfect, because he’s learned that things rarely ever are. And yet he can’t help feeling like his luck changed. Like he may be on to something good.