Problematic
Title: Problematic
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: H50
Characters: Steve/Danny
Word Count: 1,025
Rating: PG
Notes: For
kink_bingo 2011: oral fixation. You have been warned.
Summary: Steve might have a thing for Danny's mouth.
“You’re not even listening,” Danny snaps, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Do I need to be threatening your life to get you to pay attention to me?”
Steve jerks his attention up to Danny’s eyes. Danny is clearly upset, and Steve backtracks in his mind so he can process what Danny had said. “Drug runners, Kahala Valley, missing hikers,” he recites. “I’m listening.”
“No,” Danny says, “you’re doing that freaky thing where you hear me subconsciously and are still able to ignore me in the meantime. What, do I have something on my face?” Danny makes a show of wiping his hand across his mouth.
“Uh,” Steve says. He’d meant to make a better effort at a reply, but Danny had done it again, and Steve is starting to realize that he might have a bit of a problem.
Danny drops his hand to his side and tilts his head. “Seriously, are you feeling okay? You’re being all-” He waves his hands around in an abstract gesture that Steve interprets as crazy, though that’s probably a nicer translation than Danny would have given.
“Yeah,” Steve replies, trying for a smile and hoping it’s not too manic. “I’m fine. So, this hiker thing, is it related to the Phu case?”
Danny raises an eyebrow, but he launches back into his report, so Steve counts it as a win.
-0-
So, Steve thinks as he sits at his desk and stares into Danny’s office, he might have a thing for Danny’s mouth.
It’s not like he doesn’t have a thing for the rest of Danny, and it’s not like he doesn’t think Danny might have a similar thing right back at him. It’s just that lately, Danny’s been licking his lips a lot, or poking his tongue out while he’s working, or rubbing his knuckles against his mouth, and it’s pretty much all Steve can do to not spend every waking moment thinking about Danny and his mouth. Danny, of course, doesn’t make this easy; he barges into Steve’s office several times a day, going a mile a minute, and it has taken a lot of Steve’s not-inconsiderable self-restraint to keep from shutting Danny by swallowing the words right out of his mouth.
Steve groans and squeezes his eyes shut, because really, that mental image is helping exactly nothing about this situation. He shifts in his seat, trying to give himself something else to focus on while he attempts to will his half-interested dick into complacency.
He jumps when he opens his eyes again, because Danny is leaning against the wall just inside the door. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, and he’s frowning pretty intently in Steve’s direction. Steve does a quick mental review, but he’s pretty sure he hasn’t done anything to warrant a face like that. Not recently, anyway.
“Okay,” Danny says, not moving any closer, “spill.”
Steve blinks a few times. “Spill?” he asks.
“What did I do?” Danny asks, throwing his hands wide. “I would like to apologize and make up for it, whatever it is, but as I have been turning the last week over in my head and have come up blank for about the tenth time today, I am here.” He draws his hands together in front of his chest, two fists pressed against each other. “I am asking you to tell me what it is that I did wrong here, Steve, because I cannot figure it - why the hell are you laughing?”
Steve manages to get it under control, even if he can’t quite wipe the grin off his face. “I thought you came in here to yell at me for something. I was getting ready to ask what I did this time.”
Danny smiles hesitantly. “So I didn’t, ah, fuck something up?”
“I think we are both fuckup-free,” Steve replies, still grinning.
“Sixteen hours and counting,” Danny says, considerably more cheerful. “So. Lunch?”
“Sure, I could eat. What were you thinking?” Steve stands and makes his way around his desk.
Danny shrugs and bites his lip, and when he tosses out a suggestion, Steve agrees without hesitation.
This is definitely getting problematic.
-0-
“Okay, so,” Steve says. It’s late by this point, and the moon is hanging low over the water; he’s got a beer in one hand and he’s carefully not looking at Danny, who’s standing not two feet away, his own bottle dangling from is fingertips. “Don’t punch me, okay?”
“Wow, nothing says ‘you’re going to hate whatever I say next’ like that lead-in, Steven,” Danny says dryly. “Okay, lay it on me.”
And Steve means to open his mouth and say something, he really does. He intends to start a conversation, but Danny’s choice of words has, apparently, snapped the last thread of his self-control, because instead of saying something like so I’ve been thinking about maybe you and me hooking up he drops his bottle into the sand, turns, and pulls Danny in, ducking his head so he can get his mouth on Danny’s.
Danny, for his part, freezes up completely. He’s as rigid as a board in Steve’s arms for long enough that Steve is sure he’s going to get a shiner out of the deal, and he’s just about resigned to it when Danny explodes into motion against him. Danny’s arms slide up his back and pull his head down, tilting him just so, and then Danny’s tongue is running over Steve’s lips, and Steve wouldn’t be able to resist opening his mouth if he’d tried his hardest.
He doesn’t try at all.
“So I guess you’re not going to punch me,” Steve says when Danny finally pulls back. There’s color high in his cheeks and there’s fire in his eyes, and Steve is certain that Danny is fighting a smile. He’s used to paying attention to that mouth by now, and he’s pretty sure he’s figured out Danny’s tells.
“And here I was psyching myself up for it, too,” Danny grumbles, but there’s the smile Steve had seen coming, and then Danny is kissing him again and again, and Steve can only grin and kiss him back.
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: H50
Characters: Steve/Danny
Word Count: 1,025
Rating: PG
Notes: For
kink_bingo 2011: oral fixation. You have been warned.
Summary: Steve might have a thing for Danny's mouth.
“You’re not even listening,” Danny snaps, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Do I need to be threatening your life to get you to pay attention to me?”
Steve jerks his attention up to Danny’s eyes. Danny is clearly upset, and Steve backtracks in his mind so he can process what Danny had said. “Drug runners, Kahala Valley, missing hikers,” he recites. “I’m listening.”
“No,” Danny says, “you’re doing that freaky thing where you hear me subconsciously and are still able to ignore me in the meantime. What, do I have something on my face?” Danny makes a show of wiping his hand across his mouth.
“Uh,” Steve says. He’d meant to make a better effort at a reply, but Danny had done it again, and Steve is starting to realize that he might have a bit of a problem.
Danny drops his hand to his side and tilts his head. “Seriously, are you feeling okay? You’re being all-” He waves his hands around in an abstract gesture that Steve interprets as crazy, though that’s probably a nicer translation than Danny would have given.
“Yeah,” Steve replies, trying for a smile and hoping it’s not too manic. “I’m fine. So, this hiker thing, is it related to the Phu case?”
Danny raises an eyebrow, but he launches back into his report, so Steve counts it as a win.
-0-
So, Steve thinks as he sits at his desk and stares into Danny’s office, he might have a thing for Danny’s mouth.
It’s not like he doesn’t have a thing for the rest of Danny, and it’s not like he doesn’t think Danny might have a similar thing right back at him. It’s just that lately, Danny’s been licking his lips a lot, or poking his tongue out while he’s working, or rubbing his knuckles against his mouth, and it’s pretty much all Steve can do to not spend every waking moment thinking about Danny and his mouth. Danny, of course, doesn’t make this easy; he barges into Steve’s office several times a day, going a mile a minute, and it has taken a lot of Steve’s not-inconsiderable self-restraint to keep from shutting Danny by swallowing the words right out of his mouth.
Steve groans and squeezes his eyes shut, because really, that mental image is helping exactly nothing about this situation. He shifts in his seat, trying to give himself something else to focus on while he attempts to will his half-interested dick into complacency.
He jumps when he opens his eyes again, because Danny is leaning against the wall just inside the door. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, and he’s frowning pretty intently in Steve’s direction. Steve does a quick mental review, but he’s pretty sure he hasn’t done anything to warrant a face like that. Not recently, anyway.
“Okay,” Danny says, not moving any closer, “spill.”
Steve blinks a few times. “Spill?” he asks.
“What did I do?” Danny asks, throwing his hands wide. “I would like to apologize and make up for it, whatever it is, but as I have been turning the last week over in my head and have come up blank for about the tenth time today, I am here.” He draws his hands together in front of his chest, two fists pressed against each other. “I am asking you to tell me what it is that I did wrong here, Steve, because I cannot figure it - why the hell are you laughing?”
Steve manages to get it under control, even if he can’t quite wipe the grin off his face. “I thought you came in here to yell at me for something. I was getting ready to ask what I did this time.”
Danny smiles hesitantly. “So I didn’t, ah, fuck something up?”
“I think we are both fuckup-free,” Steve replies, still grinning.
“Sixteen hours and counting,” Danny says, considerably more cheerful. “So. Lunch?”
“Sure, I could eat. What were you thinking?” Steve stands and makes his way around his desk.
Danny shrugs and bites his lip, and when he tosses out a suggestion, Steve agrees without hesitation.
This is definitely getting problematic.
-0-
“Okay, so,” Steve says. It’s late by this point, and the moon is hanging low over the water; he’s got a beer in one hand and he’s carefully not looking at Danny, who’s standing not two feet away, his own bottle dangling from is fingertips. “Don’t punch me, okay?”
“Wow, nothing says ‘you’re going to hate whatever I say next’ like that lead-in, Steven,” Danny says dryly. “Okay, lay it on me.”
And Steve means to open his mouth and say something, he really does. He intends to start a conversation, but Danny’s choice of words has, apparently, snapped the last thread of his self-control, because instead of saying something like so I’ve been thinking about maybe you and me hooking up he drops his bottle into the sand, turns, and pulls Danny in, ducking his head so he can get his mouth on Danny’s.
Danny, for his part, freezes up completely. He’s as rigid as a board in Steve’s arms for long enough that Steve is sure he’s going to get a shiner out of the deal, and he’s just about resigned to it when Danny explodes into motion against him. Danny’s arms slide up his back and pull his head down, tilting him just so, and then Danny’s tongue is running over Steve’s lips, and Steve wouldn’t be able to resist opening his mouth if he’d tried his hardest.
He doesn’t try at all.
“So I guess you’re not going to punch me,” Steve says when Danny finally pulls back. There’s color high in his cheeks and there’s fire in his eyes, and Steve is certain that Danny is fighting a smile. He’s used to paying attention to that mouth by now, and he’s pretty sure he’s figured out Danny’s tells.
“And here I was psyching myself up for it, too,” Danny grumbles, but there’s the smile Steve had seen coming, and then Danny is kissing him again and again, and Steve can only grin and kiss him back.