H50 fic - part 3
Title: Stranded
Part: 3/3
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Steve/Danno
Summary: The part where I patch things up because I’m still me and these two clearly belong together.
Author’s note: It's finally finished. I worried the resolution could end up feeling too forced so I took a while to tackle this. I can't even begin to describe how wonderful tmelange is as a beta, which is probably bad seeing as I'm kinda trying to be a writer. Still she's the bomb and anything still off about this is completely on me.
Disclaimer: I’d charter a plane to Hawaii and try to take them hostage if I weren’t absolutely positive that they could take me. So until the steroids start doing their job - not mine and no profit!
Part 1 Part 2
Danny’s back at the office. He is sitting at his desk, working through the backlog of paperwork that had somehow accumulated in his absence, and Steve can’t stop staring. Nothing is right between them. Nothing is settled. The situation is still fraught with tension, and Steve doesn’t know how to bridge the gap between them. It’s as wide as the Atlantic. Still, Danny is back, and there is something inherently right about that. No matter what else, Danny is still his to protect.
Steve is aware that he needs to fix them somehow. He is so goddamn tired of feeling helpless and out of control. It’s not a good feeling at all. Inaction has never been his strong suit. He doesn’t have a plan of attack, yet, but the goal is clear - he wants Danny back.
Kono swung herself at Danny as soon as he stepped over the threshold and welcomed him back enthusiastically. Chin, as always, was a little bit more toned-down. He clasped Danny’s shoulder lightly and said, “Welcome back, brah,” with a genuine smile. Danny greeted them both with big smiles and easy jokes. And then Steve and Danny just stood there silently staring at each other. The last time Steve had seen Danny he was just leaving Steve’s place after having tucked himself back in and getting up from the floor. His back had been hunched up in a tense line.
Kono broke the awkward silence by cheerfully announcing that she was going to pack Roberts’ things. Steve had kind of forgotten Roberts still existed. He quickly offered to help her, thinking that he might actually get no small amount of satisfaction from cleaning out Roberts’ stuff. He also desperately needed to get away from the palpably tense atmosphere between him and Danny.
“I think I can clear out my own damn office,” Danny said, voice tight and resentful. He shouldered his way past Steve and disappeared in his office for the rest of the day.
Chin and Kono both gave him uncomfortably pity-like looks, and Chin cleared his throat loudly.
“So,” he said, letting that syllable hang in the air for a moment. “I take it you haven’t worked things out then.”
Steve threw him a look that he hoped conveyed ‘what gave it away?’ adequately. Chin held his hands up and said, “Don’t shoot the messenger,” placatingly. He went off to his computer, which had the advantage of not being Steve and was in all likelihood less inclined to throw dark looks at him.
Kono put a hand on his forearm gently.
“Just talk to him, boss,” she said softly.
“You think I haven’t tried that?” he snapped, a little harsher than he really meant to.
“Not hard enough,” she insisted emphatically. “This is Danny we’re talking about. Stop being stupid and fight for him already.”
There is so much he could have said to that. Some things he probably should have said. However, it’s not like he hasn’t told himself the very same thing already. So he stuck with the truth.
“I know, Kono. I know.”
And just like that he found himself strutting through their headquarters, staring at Danny.
….
It’s been a slow day, and Danny is incredibly grateful for that. He’s still seething from the fact that Steve transferred him back to Five-0 against his explicit wishes. In addition, his shoulder keeps throbbing dully. Mostly, however, he hasn’t got the slightest clue how to behave around Steve in any sort of environment. Least of all the confines of a car. It’s a good thing they didn’t have to drive out to a crime scene today, and Danny is at a point where he is thankful for small favours.
He just wishes he could stop thinking about the way he ravished Steve like some wild animal. Impotent with rage. He’s never been this uncontrollably mad at anyone before. Not even Rachel at the height of their horrific divorce drama elicited that sort of unproportionally furious response from him. That thought scares him the most.
Chin drops by his office on his way out wearing an expression that makes all Danny’s alarm bells ring. An expression that means Chin wants to talk.
“You two need to work your shit out,” he says, without preamble.
It’s always harder to tell Chin to back off, because he radiates a constant low field of tranquillity and patience. He is like some Buddha statue that slimmed the hell down and came to life. Rebuffs are like water off a duck’s back to him. Danny doesn’t even pretend not to know what Chin is talking about.
“Well, thank you for that random piece of advice. I will give it due consideration. Please feel free to interfere whenever the way I handle MY interpersonal relationships doesn’t meet your expectations.”
“Wow, tetchy,” Chin remarks, letting the angry sarcasm slide off easily. “You know as well as I do that you can’t work this job without a partner you can rely on one hundred percent. We are a team, Danny. Fucking with the dynamic messes up everything.”
“I wasn’t the one who fucked this up,” Danny responds, feeling defensive all of a sudden.
“Yeah, but you came back,” Chin points out gently.
“Steve forced me,” he counters immediately. It’s childish and he knows that. He is a father, thank you very much. He knows a good old sulk when he hears one. Chin doesn’t even bat an eyelid.
“I think you kind of wanted him to, brah,” he suggests with that aggravating tendency to be calm and sensible in the face of Danny’s outbursts. It’s not like he’s way off base here, either. In his more rational moments Danny can actually admit to the fact that a small part of him may have wanted Steve to fight him on quitting the task force. Not like that, though. Danny still feels cheated. Still feels furious at Steve for going over his head and giving him no choice in the matter. Then he thinks of his reaction and all he feels is red-hot embarrassment.
“I did something. I kinda went too far,” he admits to Chin, and thinks hey what d’ya know apparently there is a nicer way of saying I sexually assaulted my boss. “I’m not sure we can work this out.”
“I’ve got faith in you,” is all Chin has to say to that, and with that calm vote of confidence and a cryptic half-smile, he leaves Danny to his own devices. Danny spends a moment mourning the time he had colleagues who weren’t all complete nutters.
Now, he and Steve are the only ones left at HQ. Danny thought he could wait him out. No such luck. Danny looks up. Steve does this thing where he prowls around the office like a caged predator, and it’s really unsettling. It’s just not like him. Steve doesn’t circle around aimlessly; Steve leaps. Their eyes meet and Danny can tell the exact moment when Steve decides to attack. He steels himself for the confrontation, and mere milliseconds later, Steve appears in his office like the freaking Genie out of the bottle.
“I’m sorry, Danny,” Steve says, dead serious. It’s exactly what Danny’s been waiting for, and yet it’s still not good enough. He feels unreasonably angry at Steve for being the bigger man. For daring to apologise when by all rights Danny should apologise, too. He stepped out of line. Way out of line. He can’t believe he let his rage take a hold of him like that. Sure, he imagined doing all kinds of kinky stuff to Steve before. Hell, there’s always been that magnetic pull between them. It’s not like he wasn’t aware it could lead to something else easily. Not like that, though. Never like that.
“Well, that’s just great. Everything’s hunky-dory now,” he spits out sarcastically and crosses his arms in front of his chest. It’s not him. Not him at all. He doesn’t do passive aggressive, and still he can’t help himself.
“Danny,” Steve says, voice raw and intense. He’s wearing his constipated face. Steve has no right at all to expect Danny to make this easy on him.
“Look, what do you want from me? I’m back, aren’t I?” he demands, angrily.
“Talk to me, Danny,” his partner almost pleads with him. “Just fucking talk to me already.”
It’s as good as saying ‘I’m here, stop ignoring me’ and Danny feels backed into a corner.
“It’s not that easy, okay? You haven’t been basically dragged back to your old job against your will. Like you don’t have a say in your own fucking life,” Danny starts and is rudely interrupted by Steve.
“You think this is easy for me,” he asks, sounding extremely pissed-off. “I’m a mess without you. I fucking stalked you, Danny!”
“You what?” Danny asks taken aback.
“I stalked you,” Steve repeats slowly, each word dripping with a weird sort of impatient anger that seems to imply that Danny is somehow at fault for him turning into a psychotic lunatic. “I parked on Rachel’s street and watched you pick up Gracie.”
Danny doesn’t know what to say to that. This is very much not the direction he thought this conversation was likely to take. Steve looks both serious and embarrassed, and the worst part is that he feels absurdly pleased at Steve’s admission. It’s twisted and unhealthy and incredibly gratifying at the same time. There is something wrong with him. Seriously wrong.
“Right,” he says, slowly. “I think we need alcohol for this conversation.”
“Come back to mine,” Steve asks, hopefully. Danny hates him all over again for looking at him like he holds the keys to the fucking universe.
“I’m driving,” he says, nonetheless.
The drive over to Steve’s place is silent. Too many unspoken thoughts swirling around between them. Danny tries to wrap his head around the concept of Steve stalking him. It’s pretty damn baffling. Not Steve acting like a lunatic. That’s pretty much par for the course. But Mr. Control-freak loosing his shit like that is something else. Desperation is just not something he associates with Steve. He feels torn. Part of him doesn’t want Steve to hurt. He can’t even begin to imagine how much being out of control must freak Steve out. And yet another part of him feels oddly soothed by the fact that he isn’t the only one losing his mind over this fucked-up thing between them.
….
Danny walks straight out to the lanai in a few quick strides. Right past the spot where they jerked each other off the other day. There is something very determined about the way he doesn’t look at the scene of the crime, and it kinda irks Steve. He gets beer, because he doesn’t think anything stronger would do either one of them much good at this point, and follows Danny out.
They don’t clink bottles and sit too far apart. It’s not familiar at all. The silence is almost oppressive at this point. In any other situation Steve would put all his money on waiting Danny out. The man is simply incapable of sustaining silence for any length of time. This is different.
“I know I messed up,” he says, and he does. He never meant to jeopardize their friendship. “It won’t happen again.”
Steve’s not quite sure what he’s promising exactly. Doesn’t know how to say I can’t fucking function without you anymore without sounding like a massive bleeding heart idiot. He tries anyway.
“I can’t lose you, Danny. I just can’t.”
Danny sighs, rubs a hand over his face tiredly and grimaces at Steve.
“We are a mess, Steve,” he says with some pointed stabbing gestures. “A huge fucking mess.”
“We can fix us,” Steve replies with more confidence than he really feels. Danny is talking to him again; that’s a start.
“Oh really? And would you care to tell me how?” Danny asks because he always has to challenge Steve on everything. “This is not some fucking threat by a syndicate of criminal masterminds that you can solve with a hand grenade and some strategically placed martial arts moves. Please tell me you are not planning to throw me in a shark tank!”
“It’s an idea, but you don’t swim, do you?”
The reply is pure reflex. Almost second nature. There is something there. Something ingrained so deeply in this thing between the two of them that just for a moment Steve allows himself to believe they can go back. Danny glowers at him.
“Just so you know, the only reason I’m not smashing your head in with this bottle right now is that I know that admission was actually hard for you,” he starts ranting. “You actually getting in touch with your emotions? That’s one hell of an achievement right there. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s creepy. Like really, really creepy. But still, good on you. I just don’t know how to deal with this. Everything. I don’t know how to just move on.”
“Do you want to?” Steve asks carefully, not sure he wants to know the answer.
The look Danny throws him is not hard to decipher at all. Steve has been a regular recipient of this particular version of ‘are you fucking kidding me’.
“No, I’m just here for the scintillating conversation,” Danny remarks. “Of course I want to, you idiot.”
It’s more than Steve could have hoped for. He dares to grin at Danny and can’t believe his luck when he actually gets one of Danny’s mellow half-smiles in response. They sit in silence, drinking beer and looking out at the ocean.
“So we gonna talk about that other thing, now?” Danny asks after a moment.
“What other thing?”
“That dress Lady Gaga wore at the Video Music Awards,” Danny replies sarcastically, complete with exaggerated hand gestures and the ‘what the hell do you think?’-expression. Steve missed him so much it’s pathetic. “I mean seriously, have you seen it? The fucking, Steven, I’m talking about the fucking!”
“What about it?”
Danny groans.
“How did I know you were not going to make this easy on me?” he asks. “Look that was a truly horrible thing to do and I’m sorry. It’s just… I was so goddamn furious with you, and I … I can’t even explain…”
Steve chose to interrupt him right there.
“I didn’t stop you, Danny. That was on me as much as on you.”
“You saying you wanted it?” Danny asks, voice carefully neutral. Well, two can play that game.
“You saying you don’t?”
“Not like that,” Danny admits, softly.
“Yeah,” Steve agrees and decides it’s time for some more honesty, “I wasn’t sure I’d get you any other way.”
“That a come on?”
Danny’s head is cocked to the side and he looks straight at Steve, eyes inscrutable. They’ve already established that sex is pretty much a terrible idea given the messy situation between them. Things are still hanging in the balance. They’ve barely solved anything. Regardless, Steve needs Danny to know that he’ll always want him.
He kisses Danny. Slow and careful. Nothing more than a subtle brushing of his lips. He’s prepared to stop this the moment Danny draws back, but Danny doesn’t.
“This is a bad idea,” he mumbles against Steve’s lips.
Steve nods his head but doesn’t pull back. He takes a deep breath and ups the ante.
“You wanna give us another try?”
….
Danny feels like he should probably give this a little more thought, because what Steve is offering here is sheer crazy, and if Danny gives in to this he will drown in it. Will never ever find a way back out. He reminds himself that he is a father and should really act a whole lot more responsible. Problem is he can’t.
He follows Steve upstairs. They undress in a quiet rush at opposite corners of the room and face each other in front of Steve’s bed. For a moment all they do is stare. It’s incredibly awkward. Steve pushes the covers away and they clamber onto the bed clumsily.
Considering that they’ve already gotten each other off this is really ridiculous. They are acting like two blushing virgins at an orgy. Neither one of them quite sure what to do. Both afraid of fucking this up. No pun intended. Danny reaches out to touch Steve tentatively, tracing the lines of Steve’s perfectly sculptured biceps. Steve is just watching him like a hawk.
“You don’t have to do this for my forgiveness, Steve,” Danny points out, afraid beyond belief that this is some sort of fucked-up idea of repentance. Steve looks at him like he can’t believe Danny’s for real.
“I want you, Danny,” he says simply. And then, because apparently today is the day for all the huge and scary McGarrett revelations, he adds, “I always wanted you.”
And that statement really should’ve been the height of the embarrassment, but there’s something so perfectly unassuming in Steve’s tone that it sets Danny at ease.
“I’m right here,” he says drawing Steve into another kiss.
This one is different, languid and sensual. Steve’s lips are opening up under him, and he angles his head and deepens the kiss. Maybe all Steve needed was his permission because suddenly his hands are all over Danny. Touching him everywhere. Gentle and steady. It’s easier once they are both participating. Once Steve moves against him and Danny finds himself half-hard and breathless.
They take their time. Are a little too careful with each other. It’s like they both instinctively need to purge themselves from all the ugliness that led to this. They kiss and lick and taste; touch and stroke and feel. Danny savors every moment this time. The way Steve inhales his scent, face pressed firmly into the crook of Danny’s neck; the way he rasps small desperate noises into Danny’s mouth; the way he shivers against him when Danny trails his fingers lightly along the length of his swollen dick.
Steve ends up lying half on top of Danny. He moves against Danny lazily and Danny can’t help arching back up. Their rhythm is steady and unhurried. Pressure and heat building up gently. They meet and fall apart. It’s smooth and slow going and seems to last forever. Before long they are both covered in sweat, panting heavily and on the brink of exertion. Danny feels like he’s losing his mind. There is not enough friction. Not enough fervor. There is pain and longing and the smallest sliver of hope. It’s so perfect it hurts.
“Steve,” Danny whispers brokenly, again and again. Like a prayer. Like a plea for more.
There is only so long you can draw it out. Only so much he can take. He needs to come. Need being the operative word, because this right here is all about needing. Steve is chipping away at everything, laying him bare. Until all that remains is the ugly truth - Danny needs Steve bad.
“I need you,” he mumbles into Steve’s sweat-soaked skin, voice rough with passion and other unnameable emotions.
Steve hand clenches around his cock. He doesn’t reply in words but the way he leans down and devours Danny’s mouth speaks volumes. Danny’s never been so incredibly lost in another person before. He feels like he’s drowning and maybe he is. He’s certainly clinging to Steve like a man sinking. Steve clings right back and that makes it all right somehow.
Danny rolls onto his side and looks straight into Steve’s eyes as he takes him into his hand and matches his rhythm. Steve’s pupils dilate and he groans helplessly. It’s enough to make Danny babble stupid encouragements. He aches for Steve so badly it should not even be possible. They both get a little frantic after that, quickening the pace and trying to eat each other alive. In the end they come almost simultaneously. Their lips still locked. Steve’s free hand is gripping his upper arm tight enough to leave marks as he moans into Danny’s mouth and spills his seeds. Danny follows him over the edge instantly, biting his lip and shuddering against Steve.
After what feels like forever Danny flops down onto his back bonelessly, breathing harshly. He is drenched in sweat and feels utterly spent. Blindly reaching out for Steve’s shirt and cleaning them up superficially is about the only action he is still capable of for the foreseeable future. Steve’s lying next to him completely still except for the heaving of his chest. Their shoulders are almost touching. Steve doesn’t move at all. Even in his near brain-dead state of mind Danny somehow manages to figure out what this is about. Steve’s not sure he’s allowed to touch this time around. It’s Danny’s call. He gets to decide where they go from here. Whether they can move on.
Danny turns and slides one hand cautiously over Steve’s well-shaped chest. There is that horrible moment where Steve doesn’t react and Danny works himself into a nerve-wrecking panic fit. Then Steve catches his hand, squeezes it gently and pins it firmly on his chest. Right above his heart. He turns his head to look at Danny. Eyes heavy with post-orgasmic bliss and yet weirdly serene.
“See, we’re not all messed up,” he says, softly. A touch of satisfaction lacing his tone.
Danny chuckles lightly. He can’t help it. There is something about orgasms that makes him stupid sometimes.
“That’s debatable. At least I didn’t turn into John Hickley. Seriously, someone should inform the governor about your creepy stalker obsession. Wait, was that the next step of your plan? Would you have shot her to get my attention?”
Steve groans.
“You’re going to give me grief over this for the rest of my life, aren’t you?” he asks with a put-upon sigh, and means something else entirely.
“So, so much grief,” Danny agrees, and the slow spreading smile he presses against Steve’s shoulder doesn’t hurt at all.