See, there is this thing. This thing being Hawaii and its diabolical tendency to torture honest, well-meaning police officers who have amazing little girls and a slight predilection for fine haberdashery. Danny isn't sure precisely why Hawaii hates him, but he's sure it does and frankly, he doesn't care.
He just wants it to stop. Except, well, he doesn't want it to stop. See, Hawaii not only hates him, Hawaii hates him in a strange, creative, and slightly addictive fashion. Which is to say, Hawaii is totally using one particular native son against him.
Yeah, you heard him, one Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett is Hawaii's top secret deadly weapon and Danny doesn't stand a chance. "Seriously, you want me to what?"
"Uh, take a hike with me?" Steve smiles, the aw-shucks-you-know-you-can't-resist-me-Danno special, and Danny really, really hates Hawaii right now. Hawaii cheats. It sends Steve in wearing jeans, one of those godawful t-shirts of his, and that goddamn grin and Danny's trying to have a good sulk here. He is trying to have a sulk and, damn it, he needs one.
He needs one because Rachel is in England with her mother and her broken hip—which, Danny hopes, mends soon and not just because, yes, he and Stan still need a buffer—and Gracie has a recital and Stan is being an ass and it is not a good day, okay? A man having a day is allowed to have a sulk.
Or, at least, men who are not in Hawaii with Steven Fucking McGarrett are allowed to have sulks. No, Danny, Danny is in Hawaii with Steven Fucking McGarrett and, for reasons that seem epically important to Steve, is about to climb a volcano.
"How is this my life?" Danny whines—yes, he is man enough to admit that he whines—but he's getting up and Steve is waxing poetic about the mountain and its virtues, among which can be counted the word, "Active?"
"No worries, Danno, it's only a little active," Steve says, ushering him out the door.
Surprisingly, Danny isn't reassured at all.
But mostly, he is still cranky, oh, so very cranky, and gets crankier with every step. Really, seriously, he has no idea what he's doing here—well, other than Steve asked, because, apparently, all it takes is Steve asking and Danny happily forgoes looking in favor of leaping—but he knows he can't sulk. He really can't. He's got the best view on the Island with Steve and the sweating and his shirt stuck against his back—god, his back.
His back is a thing of beauty, the kind of beauty that almost, almost is enough to stop Danny from talking. Seriously, almost. There's a beat of a second or two where he kind of drifts off to appreciate a little.
Okay, maybe thirty seconds, and he's only a little in lust with his partner so thirty seconds is appropriate at the moment. He doesn't have a problem. Really. He doesn't. He can handle this, he can control it, and did anyone catch the memo that Hawaii is evil and hates him like a lot?
Well it is and it does because that? That right there is about where the heavens decide to open up and Flashdance the hell out of Steve.
Seriously, J-Lo, J-Beals(whatever), eat your hearts out. One second Steve's watching him with a bemused grin, then the next, he's frowning at the sky and then, yes.
Hawaii hates him. It does. Because, really, how is a man supposed to resist a sight like that? How is Danny supposed to resist a sight like that?
He isn't. That's the point. Hawaii is just fucking with him at this point and a man can only take so much.
"FUCKING HAWAII." Throwing up his hands, Danny looks up into the deluge and gives in. "FINE. Just—FINE. You win. I give up, okay? I FUCKING GIVE UP." He turns on Steve, who is side-eyeing him pretty damn hard, and wow, okay, yes, he just might be a little bit in love with his partner, but he is definitely a whole hell of a lot in lust with him and, yeah, Hawaii wins, okay?
Hawaii fucking wins.
Danny pounces. This ends as well as one might expect. Steve's slippery and there is mud and that's seriously fine, really it is, because Danny's hands are sliding over slick skin and Steve's mouth is open and there's some kissing, possibly some tongue, and Hawaii fucking wins.
"I don't want to know, do I?" Steve asks, muddy, his hands doing something completely illegal—Danny is considering handcuffs—to Danny's ass. "Because this is how you make a move?"
Danny squirms and Steve's eyes maybe roll back in his head a little; it's a good look on him. "What can I say? I like the rain and Hawaii does not play fair. Seriously, man, this place cheats. It is bad and wrong, but it cheats and—what?"
"Stop talking, Danno, you're killing the moment."
"And we can't have that," Danny agrees. God only knows what Hawaii will try next. War, famine, pestilence?
And all so Danny can get laid. Hawaii really kind of loves him a little, doesn't it?