H50 fic
Title: Stay with me and I’ll stay with you
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Steve/Danno
Summary: Steve needs Danny to stay.
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit. I just borrow to drool all over the slashy awesomeness that is Steve/Danno.
Author’s note: Sequel to The Call and Where the heart is. Just so you are warned, I went from a more pre-slashy vibe to full on slash with this installment. Apparently I am growing more comfortable with writing sex scenes… not sure that’s a good thing. But hey, I seem to remember promising something a little more risqué and hope this fits the bill. There is a lot of fluff and very little in terms of an actual story line along the way, too.
This is unbetad because it’s the third part of a series and I didn’t think it fair to bother the wonderful ladies who occasionally do beta for me with reading more than their fair share of background info. So if anything stands out to you don’t hesitate to point it out.
Danny falls asleep in the car. The Camaro slides through the dark streets smoothly. Steve’s hand rests lightly on the steering wheel and his foot is on the accelerator. He is right were he belongs. And even though the silence isn’t customary things feel normal again. Danny’s mere presence fills up that hollow space that he’s been carrying around with him these past two weeks and maybe a long time before that. He feels oddly calm, but also warm and fuzzy in a way he is not at all accustomed to, and yet associates with Danny almost instinctively. Steve decides to drive home.
When he pulls up in his driveway Danny’s still sleeping. He is slumped down in his seat in a seemingly uncomfortable sideways position, his forehead pressed against the window and his head resting on his shoulder at an odd angle. There is also a little bit of drool pooling out of the corner of his mouth and he snores lightly. He looks absolutely ridiculous, but for some reason Steve’s heart stutters at the sight of him. He feels incredibly reluctant to wake Danny up and actually needs to give himself a moment to just stare at his sleeping partner and get his shit together, before he leans over and shakes Danny’s shoulder gently.
“The fuck?” are Danny’s first words, mumbled almost unintelligibly. This is Danny, however, and if ever there was someone capable of going from asleep to ranting in a heartbeat he’s the man.
“Why are we at your place, Steven? Did you not hear me saying the word bed? I remember saying the word bed distinctly. In fact, I remember saying it repeatedly. That was not me randomly spouting words. That was what we detectives like to refer to as a clue. Take a fucking hint, McGarrett.”
Steve tries his hardest not to smile too widely or do something really stupid like jumping his partner right this very moment.
“I have a bed,” he says calmly, schooling his face into a neutral expression.
“You have a bed,” Danny repeats slowly. “Well, that is wonderful for you. No really, that is great. I’m really happy for you. All I’m saying is, I have a bed, too. And I really need to be in it right about now.”
“You should stay,” Steve says and the moment the words leave his mouth he realizes that he means so much more by that.
“Seriously? This? Right now?” Danny sputters, his hands imitating propeller blades. “What is wrong with you? No seriously, I wanna know. Did someone drop you on your head as a small child? There’s gotta be some sort of explanation. Because this right here is me actually passing out in the car from lack of sleep and you think that is the right time to make your move? I am very much not in the condition to get down and dirty with anyone right now, McGarrett.”
“I’m not… that’s not what I …,” Steve breaks off flustered. Because, yeah okay, he’s offering that, too. Of course he is. It’s just… it’s not what he meant.
“I’m just saying you can stay here. You already have your suitcase and there is enough space and … you know…,” he tries again.
He doesn’t know how to phrase the words. Knows he’s making zero sense. Frankly he can’t even explain this to himself. All he knows is that he spent most of his life on the move, never forming any ties and barely having any contact to his family, and he did just fine, but when Danny disappeared to Jersey for two measly weeks he felt unstrung the entire time. And now Danny is back. He spent the whole day at Steve’s side alternately shouting and grinning warmly at him, and Steve just wishes he knew how to express that he doesn’t want that to end. It doesn’t help that Danny looks at him like he’s just stepped out of an UFO.
“Wait is this because you missed me,” he asks, wearing a quizzical expression and something else that may be fondness. “‘Cause that is crazy, you know that right?”
In spite of his words Danny gets out of the car. Knowing him he probably just needs more space for the oncoming rant. Steve follows suit and watches Danny pace.
“Why do you always have to do that? Just when I think you can’t get any more demented than you already are you go ahead and up the crazy. I mean, there is jumping the gun and then there’s THIS.” Danny’s hands do a wild flurry motion that may be an impression of a hurricane. “There is a proper procedure to this sort of thing, you know that right? It involves talking and dating and actually, I don’t know, getting physical. These are all important steps on the way to asking someone to move in with you, you emotional retard.”
Steve has to admit that he’s got a point there. He walks around the car slowly, presses Danny firmly against the side of the Camaro and kisses him. Months and months of very deliberately not thinking about kissing his partner pour into this one moment and it’s so incredibly easy that it takes Steve by surprise. He presses down into Danny and Danny presses back up automatically. The angle is perfect. There is no hesitation or awkwardness as their lips lock and their bodies move against each other almost of their own accord. Danny’s lips are warm and moist, and Steve can actually taste the smirk curling around the corners of Danny’s mouth.
“That was not meant as an encouragement, McGarrett,” Danny protests into the kiss. The sound almost gets swallowed by Steve’s lips. Only Danny would try to talk through a kiss. It makes Steve’s heart ache a little. He uses the opportunity to delve his tongue into Danny’s mouth. Danny reacts by hooking his hands behind Steve’s neck and drawing him closer. There’s a time for slow and careful, but this is not it. This is hot and heady and just on this side of desperate. Danny does things with his tongue that are probably illegal and Steve can’t help but bite his lips in retribution. Eventually they pull apart for need of oxygen and Steve is distantly glad they are propped up against the Camaro, because he feels a little unsteady on his feet.
“Okay,” Danny says slowly, more subdued than Steve has ever heard him, but he regains control over his voice quickly. “I’m not lucid enough to deal with your insanity right now. We will talk about this tomorrow.”
The thing Steve likes most about his partner is that Danny will bitch like nobody’s business but still always roll with Steve’s crazy.
Danny nudges Steve out of the way and proceeds towards the house, letting himself in by using the spare key Steve gave him months ago and disabling the alarm. No one else has a key or knows the new code for the alarm. Realization hits Steve like a ton of bricks - he’s a huge freaking idiot. Clearly this has been a long time coming and how the hell did he not realize that he’s been meaning to ask his partner to move in with him for ages? He follows Danny into the house and sets the security system after them in a hazy daze.
Danny doesn’t hang about. He already hightailed it to Steve’s bedroom and Steve can hear his aggravated mutterings about unpredictable crazyass SEALs with no concept of civilized behavior and a shitload of goddamn issues all the way up the stairs. When he reaches his bedroom Danny’s already down to his boxers. Steve freezes on the spot and lets his gaze roam over Danny’s well-defined body. Spending most of his daily life obsessing over every rare glimpse of exposed skin from his buttoned up partner did not prepare him for the real thing. The tight abs, narrow waist, prominent hipbones and the sun-bleached fur all over. And damn, Danno - Steve never had a thing for body hair before. He swallows audibly.
“Don’t even think about it, Steven,” Danny warns pointing a finger at him. “I am not kidding. You will sleep on the freaking couch. I need sleep. SLEEP. God, what is wrong with you?”
Danny does actually look a little worse for wear and Steve feels vaguely bad at himself.
“Gotcha, Danny,” he reassures his partner and starts undressing, too.
The look Danny throws him is charged with suspicion, but he clambers into the bed and curls himself into a tight little ball with a satisfied sigh.
“Don’t think we are not going to talk about your unbelievably flawed sense of timing once I’m awake again.”
Steve never deluded himself on that score.
“I know Danny, I know. Go to sleep already.”
He means for it to sound exasperated but somehow his tone comes of as affectionate instead. Once he slides into bed Steve props himself up on his elbow and watches Danny drift off to sleep, looking relaxed and comfortable right there in Steve’s bed. Danny grumbles irritably.
“Stop staring at me, you big creep,” he mutters and rolls over to press his face into Steve’s chest. Steve places an arm over his shoulder and closes his eyes. Now if he could just calm the hell down and will his heart not to explode he might actually be able to go to sleep, too.
Sleeping next to Danny turns out to be much more difficult than Steve anticipated. Being a light sleeper by default and trained to notice suspicious movements or noises unconsciously does not mix well with sharing a bed with someone as a general rule, but Danny has got to be the noisiest sleeper in the world. He moves around so much that Steve begins to suspect he is orchestrating a rant in his sleep, and then he actually starts muttering stuff. A few jumbled incomprehensible syllables every now and then. It’s unbelievable. Steve would have put good money on the fact that Danny uses up all of his excess energy during the day and needs a nightly recharge of his batteries, but obviously Danny Williams was born without the ability to shut up ever. After the ninth time Steve awakes with a start, he finally finds a method to stop Danny moving about quite so much. And if that involves pinning Danny down to the mattress and draping himself all over him, well, Steve’s prepared to make sacrifices for an hour of uninterrupted sleep.
He awakes to the sound of Danny’s light snores. His face is buried into the side of Danny’s neck and the other man’s hair tickles him softly. He feels warm and heavy and a little disoriented. Steve rarely ever wakes up like this, slowly drifting into consciousness without automatically itching to do something. He lifts his head sedately, looking at Danny, who’s bathed in the golden glow of the morning light. Danny shifts against him lazily.
“What have I told you about staring at me,” he asks, eyes still shut tight. “Is this going to become another thing?”
Danny’s voice is raspy and his consonants even more washed-out than usual. Steve moves in to kiss him, because there is really nothing else he could do at the moment.
“Ugh morning breath. That’s disgusting,” Danny grumbles, but his lips open up to Steve’s probing nonetheless. The taste is a little disgusting indeed, and Steve doesn’t care one bit. Danny’s moving under him all loose and languid. The kiss is slow and sensual and completely different from anything Steve ever experienced before. He’s pretty sure he could get used to it, though.
“You asked me to move in with you,” Danny states dazedly once they pull apart.
“Yeah,” Steve says, feeling stupidly happy for no apparent reason.
“This would be the point where you explain yourself,” Danny prompts, and Steve just has to smile at him. Danny’s eyes are still heavy with sleep, he’s sporting some serious bed head and he’s in Steve’s bed as good as naked, leisurely stretching out under him - there is no way Steve is capable of participating in a conversation like this. He makes that point by trailing on hand deliberately over Danny’s stomach and nibbling at the curve of Danny’s neck.
“So not what I meant,” Danny mutters even as he aches into the touch. “Are you actually incapable of holding a normal conversation? Is that the problem?”
Steve drags his knuckle over the bulge in Danny’s boxers and watches him sputter.
“You were saying?”
Danny looks at him with something akin to irritation, but the laughter in his eyes kinda spoils the effect.
“Cute, Steve. Real cute.”
Steve draws his hand back and licks his palm very deliberately. Danny’s gaze is transfixed on the action and the way his pupils dilate should be comical but is arousing as hell instead. He lets his hand glide down over the muscles of Danny’s stomach gently, before sliding it under the waistband of Danny’s boxers and wrapping it firmly around his morning wood. He revels in the way Danny gasps, his shaft hot and silky in Steve’s hand. Steve wants to make it last, take his time to categorize all of Danny’s reactions and drink everything in. He really does. But it’s impossible in the face of Danny spread out under Steve in all his glory, parting his thighs, aching into each slow stroke and making those desperate sounds - wrecked, incoherent and beautiful. Steve didn’t know giving hand could be such a turn on; Danny groaning ‘fuck’ and ‘swear to God, McGarrett’ and ‘please’ into his ear until Steve’s so hard it hurts.
He flicks his wrist, quickens the pace and runs his thumb over the head of Danny’s cock. Kissing and licking and biting his way from the hollow of Danny’s throat all the way up to the corners of his mouth. Until Danny turns to kiss him, all teeth and hunger, and swears into Steve’s mouth loudly. Danny’s pumping into Steve’s fist and squeezing his shoulder hard. Steve can tell he’s close. He increases the pressure, twists his hand roughly and willfully counters the flow of Danny’s thrusts with a few erratic strokes. Before long Danny comes undone, spilling his seed all over Steve’s hand.
Watching Danny climax is something else entirely. The way he screws his eyes shut tight, throws his head back and lets out a string of curses that would make a sailor proud makes Steve’s heart flow over with sheer longing. Danny sinks into the mattress bonelessly and tries to catch his breath. Steve can’t take his eyes of him, feeling inordinately pleased with himself for making Danny come apart like this. When his partner looks back up at him and takes in his expression, he gets that glint in his eye. The one that says ‘you’re too smug for your own good, McGarrett’. The one that appeared right before he punched Steve in the face, before he pronounced himself Erik Estrada and before he declared, “Triple banana, bitch.” The one that means he’s ready to show Steve what’s what.
Danny surprises Steve by shoving him down on the mattress and rolling himself on top of him in one fluid motion. He grins down at Steve wickedly.
“Is there something I can do for you, Commander?” he almost purrs, voice silky-smooth, low and husky.
Steve gulps, mouth suddenly dry and finds himself unable to form any words. Danny doesn’t seem to expect a reply. He glides down the length of Steve’s body slowly leaving small kisses in his wake. Steve holds his breath as Danny pulls his shorts down, deliberately not touching Steve’s aching hard-on in the process. He licks the inside of Steve’s thigh with maddening devotion, sucking at several spots and scraping his teeth over the sensitive area afterwards. His warm breath makes Steve’s skin tangle in anticipation. Trust Danny to make this all about control.
“Danny,” he urges almost breathless and tries to nudge Danny in the right direction.
“Wow, pushy,” Danny chuckles and suddenly his lips are pressed against the side of Steve’s erection. Steve can feel the vibration and can’t stifle the groan that escapes him. If Danny is going to talk through this, Steve may not survive the encounter. Danny starts to lick along his length, tasting him, slow and unhurried. Steve will deny that anything as undignified as a whimper ever left his mouth but there is a sound and it may be mistaken for a whimper by the untrained ear. After what feels like an eternity Danny finally wraps his lips around Steve’s cock and sucks. Steve bucks up into his mouth automatically.
“Easy tiger!”
The laughter is still discernable although Danny’s voice is muffled. The feeling of Danny talking around him is almost too much to bear. Steve’s always known Danny’s incessant need to voice every last thought would drive him crazy at some point. He didn’t figure on it happening like this. And then Danny gets to work for real, curling one hand around the base of Steve’s shaft and setting up a wild rhythm, dragging his slick wet lips up and down Steve’s length. Danny’s tongue does some disturbingly exciting swirling motions and there is just a hint of teeth. Steve loses all rational thought. He drags his hand through Danny’s hair and tries very hard not to shout out something stupid. It’s almost embarrassing how little defense he has against Danny. Steve can feel the pressure building up in the pit of his stomach, hot and fierce.
“Danny,” he tries to warn his partner, his voice on the point of breaking.
Danny doesn’t seem to mind. He just presses on and swallows. Afterwards Danny crawls back up and flops down beside him. Steve’s still trying to piece himself back together, but he reaches out for Danny instantly. His thumb rubbing small circles into Danny’s shoulder lazily. Danny turns to Steve, smoothes his hair out of his sweaty face and kisses his temple. They lie too close, facing each other quietly. It’s new and different, yet oddly comfortable. Danny looks like there are a million different things on the tip of his tongue, but he just lies there studying Steve, a content little smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Right here in that non-existent space between them Steve can almost taste the beginning of something. He’s still floating in the warm waves of afterglow and blames Danny entirely for scrambling his brain and giving him stupid thoughts.
Silence never lasts long with Danny Williams.
“We’re still going to have this talk,” he announces after a moment. And talk he does. Danny starts on Steve’s non-existent communication skills as they get out of bed and proceeds to list all the reasons why them moving in together is the worst idea he’s ever heard. Steve manages to derail him shortly in the shower, but Danny picks right up where he left off the moment they step out of the shower. Steve gets dressed to a lecture about using words to express emotions and eats his breakfast to the sound of Danny fretting over how this will pan out at work. He wonders briefly whether he should worry about the fact that the concept of spending every last morning of his life to the tune of Danny ranting doesn’t worry him at all. Steve always found it best to leave well enough alone, so he doesn’t. He does, however, use a rare ebb in Danny’s flow of words to tell his partner, “I don’t want you to leave, Danno.”
It’s worth it for the way Danny turns very, very still for a moment. When Danny calls him an idiot and kisses him, he tastes like coffee and bagels and a promise to stay.
xxx
(Epilogue)
“I hate flying,” Danny exclaims loudly.
“Really? Because I didn’t get the memo the last three times you said that,” Steve retorts and shoots the woman next to them an apologetic look. He’s taken the middle seat to provide a buffer zone between Danny and the rest of the passengers. Not that that plan is entirely bulletproof. The stewardess has been eying Danny suspiciously for the last five minutes.
“Here, tighten your seatbelt,” he says reaching over to help him.
“You had your tongue up my ass, don’t treat me like a child,” Danny says petulantly, but doesn’t swat Steve’s hands away. Steve decides to be a sappy idiot and leave his hand in Danny’s lap. Not much chance of scandalizing the poor women next to them any more than they already have.
“I don’t know what you’re so nervous about,” he says. “These flights are pretty damn safe.”
“SAFE?” Danny exclaims outraged. Steve has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning like a maniac and lets Danny vent for a while. He actually has statistics to back up this particular rant, but predictably takes a detour after a while and focuses on the fact that Steve’s understanding of the word safe is questionable at the best of times. When the word ‘shark tank’ comes up Steve decides it’s time to interrupt before the inevitable mentioning of Steve’s hand grenades that will surely get them barred from the flight.
“I don’t know why I even agreed to this,” he mock-moans. “I could be at the beach right now.”
Danny raises an eyebrow at him.
“You didn’t agree. You caved to Chin and Kono. You, my badass Navy Seal friend, were scared of the combined powers of a surfer-girl and Mr. Zen himself.”
“They are scary,” Steve nearly pouts.
“Not disagreeing. Just stating the facts,” Danny says waving one hand around absentmindedly.
Fact is, Kono had a murderous glint in her eyes and Chin looked positively unholy when they backed Steve into a corner and demanded he take a leave of absence and join Danny on his trip to Jersey. He didn’t put up much of a fight, apart from the obligatory remark about it only being a week and them over-exaggerating. In all fairness, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about the concept of spending a week apart either. Plus, he really wants to meet Danny’s family. When he approached the topic carefully Danny just rolled his eyes at him and said, “Course you’re coming. I already told my mom.”
They take off and Steve leans over Danny to look out at Hawaii becoming smaller rapidly and maybe feel him up a little while he’s at it. Danny doesn’t seem to mind, even though he wears the same expression he wore on the drive to the airport when he declared, “We are not joining the mile high club. Get your mind out of the gutter, Steven.”
The flight is long and exhausting, and Steve loves every minute of it - the way Danny unconsciously fiddles with Steve’s hand because he hates being restricted movement-wise for any length of time; the way he manages to spend three quarters of the flight complaining about what passes for food on a plane and still gobbles it up like it’s the last dinner he’ll ever have; the way his eyes light up when Steve hands him his desert wordlessly.
Danny says, “I love you,” around a huge piece of Steve’s pastry and naturally sends crumbs flying everywhere. It’s the way Danny always shows affection in an easy offhanded manner like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Steve should be used to it by now, but it still catches him off guard every single time. He feels his throat constrict and grips Danny’s thigh a little too tightly. Danny smiles at him fondly and Steve forgets how to talk for a moment. He doesn’t have to say a thing; Danny always reads him like a fucking book. He pats Steve’s hand and intertwines their finger, while simultaneously going off on a tirade about the air conditioning. And even though they are moving further and further away from Hawaii at the moment, Steve still feels like he’s finding his way home.