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Goes Both Ways

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Goes Both Ways

Steve stared out the windshield. The sky was beginning to lighten; pink and orange streaks stretching across the sky. It was a beautiful sunrise and he hadn't realized he'd missed seeing them from his home until now.

With a sigh, he melted further into the seat, his body sinking into the cushion, letting it cradle him. Finally landing the black helicopter and reuniting with his team had eased some of the tension he'd been carrying around with him since he went in search of Joe White and Shelburne. But it wasn't until he'd delivered Wo Fat to prison that the adrenaline had began to fade and the exhaustion had set in.

The Camaro door creaked open and Danny peered down at him. He didn't say a word. Hadn't really spoken since leaving the prison. Steve knew that was a portent of things to come. Danny was probably backlogging a load of words to fire at Steve, but probably didn't have the energy at the moment to do so. Whenever Danny was ready to let loose, Steve would be ready. He deserved anything Danny dished out and then some. Of course, there was a tiny part of him that realized he would enjoy a Williams' rant. Caustic though it may be, Danny's tone would be a balm to Steve's soul, a welcome home of sorts.

Danny held out a hand.

Steve took it, allowing Danny to pull him from the car and close the door. Every muscle in his body ached and it felt as if every part of his skin had been shredded. Being tossed in a crashing airplane and then trading body blows with your enemy would do that to a person. So Steve accepted Danny's help into the house.

"Come on, Steve," Danny said, sounding flat as he maneuvered Steve up the stairs. "I need to treat those cuts and bruises."

Steve might have worried about the detached way Danny was acting, but the gentleness in which he helped Steve toward his bedroom and into the bathroom, eased his fears.

Danny's hands were warm as they settled him on to the closed toilet lid.

"Hey," Steve said softly.

Danny refused to look at him as he gathered the first aid supplies.

"You going to ignore me all night?" Steve tried for a light tone, half-joking. But he was serious as well. He needed Danny with him. Here and now. In the present. Not locked in his own head, dreaming of nightmarish scenarios where Steve was missing or dead.

Danny slowly raised his head. There were lines of tiredness radiating from his eyes and his whole face was drawn in worry.

Steve's heart twisted, knowing he was responsible for that look. "I'm sorry, Danno."

Danny stared at him. "I know," he said softly. "Doesn't make it all better."

"I'll make it up to you," Steve promised, sliding a hand along Danny's neck to cradle his cheek. "I--" Steve frowned. "What the hell?" he asked harshly.

Startled, Danny drew back.

Steve, brow wrinkled, lips pressed in a tight line, cupped the back of Danny's neck and followed his movement, springing to his feet. "What happened?" Steve demanded.

Danny looked nonplussed. "What? I don't know--" he took a deep breath and said firmly. "Steve, you need to sit down before you fall down." He pushed at Steve's chest.

Steve didn't budge. He stood ramrod straight and he glared into Danny's eyes. "Where did you get this bruise?" he demanded, brushing at the corner of Danny's mouth.

Danny's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Bruise?" He angled his head and peered over Steve's shoulder, looking into the bathroom mirror. His expression cleared. "Oh, wow," he said, touching the bruise. "It actually bruised. I didn't think it would." He snorted. "He hit like a girl." Then he seemed to consider his words. "Well, I can't really say that. I've seen Kono throw a punch. It would be a disservice to women everywhere to say that guy hit like one of them. Really, Steven, you should never underestimate a woman."

"Stop. Just stop already," Steve said through gritted teeth as he grasped Danny firmly by the chin and tilted his face upward. He examined the bruise, pushing his thumb lightly against it, stopping when Danny flinched. "Just answer my damn question!"

"You mean, where I got the bruise?" Danny asked.

Steve couldn't understand why Danny was being particularly obtuse. "Yes, I mean the bruise! Who the fuck hit you?"

Danny shrugged and his eyes went dark. "Can't tell you that. It's classified."

Steve's eyes widened and he reared back as if Danny had hit him. "Oh, no," he growled. His fists clenched at his sides, he took a step closer to Danny, crowding into his space. "Don't you even fucking try that. You need to tell me."

Danny crossed his arms and looked up at Steve, chin angled in defiance. "No, I don't," he said. "What's good for you, is good for me."

"Danny," Steve pleaded, striving to let go some of the tension that had returned. He had to be calm and reasonable. Danny had to understand. "Look, babe, if I could have I would have told you."

"I'd like to believe that," Danny muttered, then let out a long sigh. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Danny," Steve started to say.

"Steve, I am pissed at you for disappearing like you did," Danny said in a tightly controlled voice. "You seem to forget that you aren't on your own anymore, that you have an ohana that cares what happens to you, that you have friends who will back you up. It drives me fucking crazy that you'll ditch us whenever you feel like it."

Steve grabbed a hold of Danny's shoulders, squeezing them. "I had to go looking for answers. I had to know, Danny."

"And did you find those answers?" Danny questioned.

There was a strangled moment of silence. "I found Wo Fat," Steve said finally.

"And you brought him in," Danny said evenly. "And in the end, you needed us."

"And you came through," Steve said softly.

"That's what we do for each other," Danny said, then added bitterly, "if you'd give us a fucking chance."

Steve's shoulders slumped, the fatigue once again hitting him full force. He swayed on his feet.

Danny grabbed him about the waist and eased him back down onto the closed toilet lid. "Let me get you cleaned up, Steve," he murmured. "Then you can get some sleep."

Steve wound his arms around Danny's waist, pressing his cheek into Danny's stomach. He closed his eyes and inhaled, taking in Danny's musky scent. He felt himself relax even further. "I'm sorry, Danny," he mumbled. "I don't know how many times you want me to say it."

Danny carded his fingers through Steve's hair, scratching softly at his scalp. "I'll tell you when you can stop."

"Yeah?" Steve said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Yeah," Danny confirmed. He hugged Steve around the shoulders. "I'm glad you're back, babe. Safe and sound."

Steve tilted his head back and gazed up at Danny. "Are you too mad at me to give me a kiss?"

Danny stared down at him, an eyebrow raised. "You need a kiss?"

Steve slowly nodded. "Missed you," he said huskily.

Danny smiled and cupped Steve's face. Leaning down, he touched his lips softly to Steve's.

Steve moaned, hands scrambling up Danny's back, clutching at his shirt. He pushed forward, deepening the kiss until Danny's mouth opened under his and they were sharing air.

Danny pressed closer to Steve, wedging himself in the space made by the vee of Steve's legs. He tangled his fingers into Steve's hair and took control of the kiss, swiping his tongue along Steve's lower lip.

Steve's hands drifted down smoothing over Danny's ass and gripping gently, relishing the feel of Danny's body warm against his own.

They stayed locked in the heated embrace until Danny pulled back, panting. "Need air," he gasped.

"I don't," Steve murmured with a smile. "I've had SEAL training."

Danny snorted. "So you're a power kisser."

"Uh-huh." Steve pulled him down for another kiss.

"Okay, babe," Danny said against Steve's lips. "No more for now. You need to let me take care of you."

"You are taking care of me," Steve protested, trying to steal another kiss.

Danny put two fingers to Steve's lips. "Uh-uh. Hold still now. Let me clean these cuts. If you're good, maybe...just maybe, I'll let you kiss me again."

"Yes, sir," Steve murmured, giving Danny a sloppy salute.

Danny rolled his eyes, but there was a tender smile of amusement on his face.

Steve thought that was okay. He still had a lot of making up to do, but Danny was still here with him. Danny still cared about him. That was all Steve needed. Everything else would come in time.

Danny began dabbing at the cut along Steve's brow. "Sorry, it's going to sting," he murmured, frowning, eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Nothing I can't handle," Steve assured only hissing slightly.

"Right," Danny said dryly. "You're Steve "Feel No Pain" McGarrett."

"Oh, no," Steve murmured. "I still feel the pain. It just doesn't matter."

Danny scowled, tossing the bloodied gauze into the trashcan and picking up a clean one. "It matters to me."

Steve pulled back, settling his hands on Danny's hips. He stared up at Danny, but Danny seemed to be focusing all his attention on soaking the small piece of gauze with fresh saline solution.

"Danny," Steve said quietly.

Danny touched the gauze to Steve's cheek.

Steve caught his wrist, giving it a squeeze. "Think you could look at me for a minute?"

"I am looking at you," Danny said pointedly, staring at Steve's cheek.

"In the eye," Steve corrected.

With a sigh, Danny turned his face, gazing into Steve's eyes.

"That's better," Steve murmured. He reached up and cradled Danny's cheek. "That's why I want to know what happened to you," he said. "Because it matters to me."

Danny snorted. "This," he said, touching the side of his face, "is just a bruise. It really doesn't matter. You, on the other hand, have been beat to hell and back." He skimmed his free hand along Steve's torso, probing gently.

Steve flinched, jerking away from those questing fingers.

"That's what I thought," Danny said softly. "No comparison."

"Who said anything about comparing?" Steve demanded. "This isn't about who is hurt more. This is about you being hurt period."

Danny let out a breath, shaking his head. "Okay, fine. Whatever. If I let you kiss my boo boo, can I finish tending to yours?"

Steve smiled. "Yeah," he answered, then his face darkened. "After you tell me what happened."

"What are you going to do?" Danny asked. "Run out of here and beat the bad guy up for me?"

"Well, maybe not that," Steve hedged, wanting nothing more than to do just that. No one laid a hand on Danny. Not if Steve had anything to say about it.

Danny rolled his eyes. "You're a terrible liar." He tilted his head and considered Steve. "So, if I tell you, can I go back to Halawa and beat up Woo Fat? Maybe find the damaged airplane and kick it a few times?"

"Damn it!" Steve growled in frustration. He was tired and sore. Was it too much to ask for a straight answer? It was eating at him. Someone had hit Danny and he needed to know who. He wouldn't be able to get any sleep otherwise. "Just fucking tell me, Danny."

Danny sighed. "CIA."

"CIA?" Steve questioned, confused.

Danny settled himself onto the edge of the tub, staring down, hands tangling between his knees.

It was then that Steve noticed the faint lines around his wrists. He cursed and slipped to his knees in front of Danny, grabbing onto his forearms."Tied to a chair?"

Danny nodded and after a brief pause, explained the events of the day, including the assisted escape, the borrowed car, and meeting up with Steve.

"Fuck," Steve breathed.

"Happy now?" Danny asked wearily. "Can we finish up in here? I don't know about you, but I could sleep for a week."

Steve stared at him for a moment. "I think maybe I need to pay a visit to this guy."

"No, Steven, you do not," Danny said impatiently. "The situation has already been taken care of."

"I don't like it," Steve growled.

"Yeah, well, what the hell is there to like about any of this?" Danny questioned harshly, gesturing at himself, Steve, the whole fucked up situation.

Steve shifted on his knees, feeling a twinge of pain in his back. Danny had been right. He'd been beaten to hell and back. He wanted nothing more than to give himself over to Danny's tender ministrations, but he wanted to get down to the bottom of this first. Deep down, he was feeling guilty. If he hadn't have gone off on his own, then maybe Danny wouldn't have gotten hurt.

In more ways than one, Steve had to admit.

"I'm sorry," Steve said again.

"You keep saying that," Danny said tiredly.

"Yeah, I do," Steve agreed. "But you told me you would tell me when it would be okay for me to stop."

"Still not finished," Danny murmured.

"I figured," Steve said. "Listen," he continued earnestly. "I know you don't think it's a big deal, but I do. I care about you, Danny."

Danny leaned forward. "I care about you," he said simply.

"Yeah, but I can take care of myself," Steve responded without thinking.

Danny lifted an eyebrow. "And I can't?"

"That's not what I meant," Steve said, running a hand tiredly over his face. "I just don't like seeing you hurt."

"I don't like seeing you hurt, either," Danny said quietly.

"So I can take care of your boo-boo, if I let you take care of mine?" Steve asked. "Is that what you're saying?"

"I think I did say that," Danny pointed out.

"Goes both ways," Steve said softly.

"Both ways," Danny's voice was just as soft.

"I can live with that," Steve said.

"Living is good," Danny agreed.

Steve cupped Danny's face and kissed him. "Guess I should tell you that I have lots of boo-boos."

"Yeah?" Danny asked with a sly glint in his eye as the mood started to lift. "Would you like for me to kiss every one of them?"

Steve pretended to consider the suggestion. Then he nodded solemnly. "I think that would be just what the doctor ordered."

"Then I should get right on that," Danny said, getting to his feet.

Steve was a lot slower to stand, muscles having stiffened up. "Yes, you should."

Danny grabbed a few first aid supplies and led Steve into the bedroom.

Steve followed, knowing that the tender loving care Danny provided would be what he needed.

Body...Heart...and Soul.

The End