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No matter how Danny falls asleep nowadays, he always seems to wake up with way too many McGarrett limbs wrapped around him. It's not like Danny doesn't like a little snuggling every now and then, you understand, but there's a quantitative difference between some light spooning and having six feet plus of Steve clamped around you like he's afraid you're going to flee in the middle of the night. There really isn't any chance of Danny doing that, of course—he thinks he's made it pretty plain that Hawaii's where he's going to be for the foreseeable future, between Grace and now this goof—but sometimes a guy does like the freedom to be able to empty his bladder of a morning.

He tries to complain about it a couple of times, but every time he does, Steve manages to distract him. And Steve, well, they must train a guy in distraction back at Coronado, because Steve's expert in it: his early morning kisses are scratchy and stubbly in ways that make Danny stretch and shiver, and Steve murmurs things in his ear that should absolutely not be as hot as they are. Steve always seems to know the best places to kiss him, the little patches of skin that most need his touch; knows how to make Danny gasp and shudder no matter how hard he tries to keep his cool.

It's ridiculous, how Steve's able to turn him on with such simple things. Case in point, this morning when he whispers, "Wanna go surfing today?", and through tone alone turn his words into innuendo of surpassing filthiness. Danny's so confused that he just murmurs, "Yes, please," without a single idea of what he's just agreed to. Which is just typical, right, because then Danny spends the whole day at work in a state of giddy, confused arousal. Steve keeps looking at him, and Danny still has no idea what Steve meant by 'surfing', or if he was just fucking with him, but either way Danny's almost positive that it's a definition that won't be found in your standard edition of Merriam-Webster.

They make it through work, somehow, just about—through paperwork and an interview with Hernandez's people and a follow-up with the governor—but about five minutes after they get in the door, they're pressed up against the cupboards in Steve's kitchen and Danny's licking Steve's collarbone. He has no idea when Steve decided to broaden his sartorial repertoire—which is a fancy way of saying that Steve bought a value pack of v-necked Hanes t-shirts from some big box store—but that little glimpse of chest's been driving him crazy all day.

Steve arches his back and says, "Wanna get your board out?", which is stupid and juvenile and makes Danny moan and scrape his teeth against the line of Steve's collarbone.

All of this means that it's a matter of personal pride which makes Danny say, "That's your line, really? You think that's going to get you somewhere, Smooth Dog, huh? My board?"

Steve just smirks and cups Danny's hard on through his pants.

"Okay," Danny says, because never let it be said that he's not a fair man. "Point." His words are a little muffled by the fact that he's tugging his t-shirt over his head.

"Hmm," Steve says as he sinks down to his knees and nuzzles Danny's crotch. "Got a bit of a ground swell here."

"Fuck," Danny says, panting. He can feel the heat of Steve's breath through the thin fabric of his trousers. "That's a terrible pun, babe, that is really"—he breaks off, swallowing hard when Steve mouths at him, hot breath dampening the fabric. "Unacceptable, that's what it is."

Steve grins up at him. "You're just pissy because your surfing knowledge is lacking."

"Pissy?" Danny says as Steve unzips his pants—way too slowly, the fucking tease. "Since when am I ever pissy?"

"Since when aren't you pissy?" Steve laughs against the skin of Danny's stomach, just above the waistband of his boxers, making the muscles there twitch.

Danny reaches down and ruffles Steve soft, short hair. "Am not, never," he tries, but Steve is pressing his nose against the crease of Danny's thigh and breathing in deep, and it's getting a little more difficult to concentrate here. "Only when you, you are, uh—oh."

Steve's rubbing his cheek against the growing swell of Danny's cock. "What are you trying to say here, Danny."

"Ground swell," Danny gasps as Steve pushes his boxers halfway down his thighs. "Board, offshore winds, uh…" He really is running out of surfing lingo to use here. "Ahoy there, matey?"

Steve's laughing harder now, enough to make his shoulders shake. "You want me to shiver your timbers, huh?"

"Honestly?" Danny says, "Just the one." He's aiming for lofty and pretty sure he just sounds wrecked.

"All right then," Steve says, pressing a kiss to the head of Danny's cock. A little more Hawaii has crept into his accent, the way it tends to when he's drunk or overtired, and god, Danny's been here way too long if he's starting to find that hot. "Toes on the nose, brah, we're going off the lip."

"What? What?" Danny tugs a little at his hair. "You're just making it up now, you—oh, oh God." He's breathless, gut punched at the feel of being swallowed so suddenly, so thoroughly, by Steve's hot, wet mouth. Danny can barely stand up, it's just that crazy good; has to grab hold of the counter top just so he can stay upright, fingers scrabbling against the wooden surface. He throws his head back, not able to stop the shameless groan that escapes his throat. Steve hums happily in response, and Danny just about sees stars at the sensation.

Because seriously, it's not like he's ever been surprised to see Steve do anything with focus and determination. Steve's been go go go since the day they met—but it still astounds Danny a little, just how enthusiastic Steve is about even this. Danny's had blowjobs from several people in his day, okay, thank you for asking, but most of them seemed to be doing it on sufferance. Steve though, Steve seems to get off on making Danny get off, on seeing how deep he can take him. The thought makes Danny's control slip, enough for him to buck into Steve's mouth. His knees buckle slightly when he hears the way Steve moans at that, the way the movement of Steve's shoulder says that he's frantically jerking himself off.

It's things like that that make Danny crazy—Steve, with his hands down his pants, making soft, desperate sounds around Danny's cock like he wants to take everything Danny can offer him. It's criminal, absolutely criminal, there ought to be a law against anyone that fucking hot on the other end of his cock, wanting him so much. Steve's eyes are closed, his lashes dark smudges against his cheeks, and Danny moves his hands down to cup his cheek, to feel his own cock moving inside Steve's mouth. It's a rush, feeling the sensation of it twice over, and when Steve sucks harder, pressing his tongue against that spot just under the head that's always extra sensitive, Danny comes with a breathtaking rush of pleasure. He shoves into Steve's mouth, and oh, that's wrong, that's not at all polite, but Steve just whimpers and holds on tight and takes him all in. Danny can feel the tip of his cock bump against the back of Steve's throat, and it's like his orgasm starts up again, right in the middle, hard enough that he's dizzy with it. He can't hold himself up any more, and when Steve finally lets him go, Danny tugs him down onto the cool floorboards.

He plasters himself on top of Steve, kissing him frantic and hot and messy. Steve's cock is still a hard length against Danny's belly, his skin hot and sweat-damp and Danny figures another minute, maybe two, of licking the taste of himself out of Steve's mouth and he'll kiss his way down there, take Steve into his own mouth. Danny had sex with guys before he got with Steve, but they'd always been fast encounters, sometimes impersonal, and he likes that he gets to take his time with Steve, make out with him with their clothes scattered around them and the afternoon sun warm on his bare skin.

But Steve's got different ideas, clearly: he's saying, "Yeah, yeah, like this, Danny," spreading those long legs of his wide so that he can bracket Danny's hips and pull him closer, thrusting against him. Steve's shameless like this, given over to wanting, and Danny loves it, loves him, loves the way that Steve's staring up at him with eyes gone glassy with pleasure. Danny presses closer, makes the friction and the angle that much better, and says, "Come one, babe, that's it, give it up for me." He murmurs it right against Steve's jawline, against that little spot behind the ear that always drives Danny crazy—and, well, turn about's fair play, right?

Steve's got a grip on his ass that's going to leave a mark, but Danny doesn't give a damn—might like it, even. He murmurs encouraging words into Steve's ear, tells him that he's fucking gorgeous, that he's amazing beyond words and come on, come on, babe, and Steve does just that, gasping and straining against Danny as he comes between their bellies.

Danny pulls back just enough that he can watch, so that he can see the pleasure on Steve's face: the way his face screws up in a tight frown before easing into utter bliss as he relaxes. He blinks open his eyes, looking up at Danny with a satisfied smile that's too sweet to have any tinge of smugness to it. And it's not like Danny hasn't known it for a while, but his breath catches for a moment at just how crazy in love with this guy he is.

Danny knows he can be a lot to take sometimes, knows that he can burn too hot and too bright for a lot of people's liking, but in Steve he's found someone who can match him stride for stride, who can push back just as strong when Danny pulls. "Hey," he says, leaning down to kiss him, sucking at the soft curve of Steve's lower lip. "Got another one for you, babe."

"Oh yeah?" Steve says, his voice still a little pleasure-slurred. He stretches underneath Danny, the long muscles of his legs and side bunching and relaxing in a way that Danny knows is calculated to distract and to tease. "What's that?"

"Man overboard," Danny says, and waits for the moment when Steve gets it—because they've both said it before, more than once, in lots of different ways, but every single time Steve grins impossibly bright, like Danny's just given him an unexpected, brand new gift—and kisses him again.