Steve sat in the living room, staring at the blank TV, the light fading as the sun sped towards the ocean. He'd showered sea salt and Danny off his body, not that the shower had done anything to kill the feeling that Danny's body had somehow branded him. He'd tried to distract himself with a dozen different chores, but nothing had stuck, and he'd ended up sitting on the couch, trying not to think.
Not that he'd been very successful at that, either.
That last kiss kept running through his mind. He may or may not have been indulging in wishful thinking that Danny had kissed him back at HQ, but there was definitely no mistaking the fact that Danny had kissed him this time.
And then he'd run off.
No explanations, and no word since he'd run out as if the house was on fire, with just one last look that was hot enough to set it ablaze. It had been hours, and Steve's phone was as silent as a brick.
He didn't have the balls to call Danny, either. Not after the way Danny had left.
He heard the distinctive sound of a Camaro growing closer, and held his breath when he heard it pull into the drive. Steve was off the couch and halfway across the room before he realized he didn't know what kind of mood Danny would be in, and he forced himself to stop where he was.
Footsteps sounded on the porch, but only when the door opened without a knock did Steve really think it was Danny.
Danny, who came in, closed the door behind him, and leaned against it, just staring at Steve without a word, looking as if he'd gone a few rounds in the cage with Chuck Liddell, minus any visible bruises.
The longer he stood there without saying anything, the more Steve was convinced Danny was just looking for the words to say he was leaving. "Look, Danny," he said, when he couldn't take the waiting anymore, "you can't leave 5-0. We need you. And you need the job. I'll do whatever you need, okay? Just don't go."
"Will you just shut up?"
He sounded as tired as he looked. "I'll shut up if you'll start talking," Steve said.
"Okay, look." Danny pushed off the door, taking a few small steps towards Steve. "I didn't leave here to find a new job or something, okay? I left...." He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, blowing out a long breath before opening his eyes again and meeting Steve's gaze. "I left because I had to go explain things to Gabby."
Which could mean a whole host of things. "Okay."
"I've fucked this all up royally," Danny said, taking another step forward, "and I'm sorry--though believe me, you are welcome to your share of the blame there, my friend. But it's not all on you."
Steve would gladly take any blame Danny wanted to assign if he'd just get to the point. "So you went to see Gabby."
Danny nodded. "I had to talk to her first, before I could...." He shoved both hands into his hair, smoothing it back in a nervous motion. "I couldn't lie to her. I had to talk to her before I did anything...else."
"Like what?" Steve asked, wondering how he could get words out when he was holding his breath.
"I don't think," Danny said, his words as slow as his steps as he closed the distance between himself and Steve, "that it's right to start something with someone when you're engaged to someone else."
Start something...? Steve wasn't quite ready to hope, but.... "And now?" he asked.
"I'm not engaged to anyone," Danny said quietly as he took the last step that put him toe-to-toe with Steve. "So that leaves the question of you."
"I was never engaged."
Danny gave him a look. "But are you involved?"
Steve shook his head. "I was never really involved, either," he said. "But Cath and I are officially friends without benefits since last night."
The first hint of a smile showed on Danny's face, and Steve swallowed hard against the jolt it sent through his gut. "Good," Danny said, with a little nod that seemed to be more for himself than Steve.
Before Steve could ask what that meant, his shoulders were being grabbed and yanked forward, pulling him hard against Danny, their lips meeting with enough force that Steve's teeth dug into his upper lip. The kiss made the others pale in comparison--Danny had been holding back, Steve thought, or maybe it was just the dawning knowledge that Danny was a) not getting married and b) right here with his mouth on Steve's and his hands working their way up Steve's naked back and taking his shirt with them.
Danny let him go long enough to rip the shirt over Steve's head, tossing it aside and putting his hands right back where they belonged, on Steve's body. He felt Danny's fingers digging into his back, the nails just long enough to press without really hurting.
Not that Steve would be feeling pain anyway. He could slam his head into a door and he wouldn't even feel it. Because Danny was so hot and hard against him, so there, moving constantly, even in the circle of Steve's arms, his mouth almost never leaving Steve's, and Steve wanted to keep him there forever, to never let him move so much as an inch away.
Except he had to, or else they'd never get their clothes off, and they were wearing too fucking many clothes. Steve reached between them to try to get to Danny's buttons, but his fingers were too uncoordinated, and he gave up with a growl that got an answering one from Danny just before Steve grabbed both sides of Danny's shirt and pulled hard.
Buttons hit the floor, but the shirt was out of the way, and Steve pressed his naked chest to Danny's, the hair tickling him, making him want to laugh and bite Danny's skin at the same time.
"Shirt," Danny muttered, lips against Steve's neck, teeth probably leaving marks on the muscle that led down to Steve's collarbone.
Good. Steve wanted the marks. He hoped everyone could see them. "Shirt?" he asked, while his tongue traced Danny's earlobe, tugging on it with his teeth before moving to that spot just below it that made Danny gasp when Steve bit down.
"You're buying," Danny nipped Steve's collarbone, and Steve tried to see if he could actually get his arms around Danny so tight that his hands could meet on Danny's chest, "me a new one."
"I'll buy you the entire fucking shirt department at Nordstrom," Steve muttered, yanking the shirt down and off Danny's body the rest of the way. It fell out of his hands, and he didn't care where it went as long as his hands were on Danny's skin again.
But there were still pants to deal with, and Danny's hands were making short work of Steve's shorts, shoving them to the ground. He stepped out of them as he moved backwards, aiming for the couch, but missing, his normal ability to navigate his entire house in pitch dark gone completely, as his leg smacked so hard into the coffee table he felt the table move.
He didn't feel the pain, though, because Danny's hand was on his dick, and he couldn't feel anything else anywhere. All his nerve endings seemed to have joined all the blood in his body in congregating in his dick, leaving him dizzy and with more sensitivity than he'd ever had there in his life.
He swore he could feel every callus, every whorl of Danny's fingerprints, as Danny stroked a hand lightly up Steve's dick. It was straining towards Danny--never having been as confused as Steve's brain about what it wanted in the first place. "Couch," Steve said, the word muffled by Danny's tongue in his mouth.
"Pants," Danny said back, and Steve reached down, thanking God and everyone that Danny had stopped wearing belts, because he wasn't sure he had enough brain cells left to deal with a buckle. The button almost had him, until he just pulled hard and it joined the ones from Danny's shirt on the floor. He'd buy Danny the fucking pants department, too, if that was what it took.
Steve shoved at the pants until he could feel Danny's naked thighs brush against his own. He walked Danny backwards, looking for the couch again, knowing it had to be close.
Then they were both falling, and Steve managed to catch them with an arm on the seat of the couch, landing with his ass on the floor just in front of it, Danny in his arms, sideways across his lap, his pants around his ankles.
"Shoes," Danny said, through lips that were red and swollen and looked thoroughly kissed.
"I'll buy you those, too," Steve replied absently, leaning in to capture Danny's mouth again.
"No, still on," Danny said, though he didn't stop Steve from kissing him.
Steve reached for Danny's feet, pulling Danny with him so he didn't have to stop kissing him, but he got to a point where it was either let go of Danny's mouth or not reach Danny's feet.
So the shoes would stay. Steve twisted them both to the side, rolling so that Danny landed on his ass, his back against the couch, Steve straddling his lap.
Their dicks brushed against each other, and Danny smiled, a beautiful, brilliant smile, one that clearly told Steve he was a genius. Steve liked to think the only reason those words didn't follow was because Steve's hand wrapped around both their dicks, and Danny's expression went from that smile to an open mouthed expression bordering on the obscene, as he thrust up into Steve's hand.
A few seconds later, Danny turned his head, and Steve had to stop kissing him. He frowned, even as he kept kissing his way down Danny's neck to his shoulder. Steve felt Danny's hand join his, Danny's wet now, and realized what he'd been doing.
He let Danny put his hand on the inside, lessening the friction, allowing for more speed. Steve wrapped his hand around Danny's as he found Danny's mouth once more.
His tongue was salty from where he'd been licking his palm a moment before, and Steve found himself actually jealous of Danny's hand for half a second. Danny's tongue should be licking him and nothing else, dammit.
Then again, the feel of that wet hand on Steve's dick, helping hold his dick tightly against Danny's as they thrust together, was worth it. He was so close, could tell Danny was, too, in the way he was moving harder and faster--nearly bucking Steve off him a few times, only Steve's strength and sheer determination that nothing was getting him off Danny keeping that from happening.
He was also making these noises that Steve could never have imagined. Hot, needy little noises, sounding as if they were escaping Danny's throat without him even knowing it. Steve reached up with one hand to wrap it around the side and back of Danny's throat, feeling the vibration those sounds made every time, wondering if he could get his tongue far enough down Danny's throat to feel it that way as well.
He could not, however, climb inside Danny, no matter how hard he might be trying. Which was just as well, because then he wouldn't have all this amazing friction, the slide of skin that was bringing him over the edge much faster than he wanted.
He tried to hold off, not wanting it to end, but he couldn't, the heat that had started in his gut feeling like it was bursting out of every pore in his body. It rolled through him in waves, each one getting closer and closer to his dick until he spilled over, crashing like the most amazing wave he'd ever ridden, only so, so much better. Better than anything ever in the history of the human race.
Danny was the only thing he was even remotely aware of, managing to keep his hand around Danny's hand and their cocks until Danny followed him over the edge a moment later. He was still moving a little, aborted, jerky movements, when he realized that the air felt a lot cooler around them.
It was easier to move against Danny now, too, sweat slicking their skin. Steve unwrapped his hand from around their dicks at last, stretching the fingers, not giving a damn about the cramping in them. He didn't care if they stuck that way permanently--it would just make it easier to do that again and again.
That is, assuming that was what Danny wanted.
Steve lifted his head, blinking down at Danny through the last of his haze. "Hi," Steve said softly.
Danny giggled, a sound Steve had never heard quite like that from Danny before, and hoped to God he heard it again. Preferably with a recording device at hand. "You greet everybody that way?" Danny asked, giggling again.
"Only the most special people," Steve said, not caring if it sounded ridiculous. He leaned in for a kiss. "We should probably get off the floor," he added, as his knees protested the hard wood pressing against his kneecaps.
"I don't know," Danny said, his hands sliding down Steve's back, "it's kind of comfy."
"My bed is much comfier," Steve said, ducking his head when Danny didn't reply right away. "I mean, unless you have somewhere you need to be."
Danny's dry hand cupped Steve's cheek. "There's nowhere else I need to be," he said softly. "And nowhere else I want to be, either."
"Good." Steve couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. "Good."
He used the couch to push himself to his feet, wobbling a little before getting steady. He held out a hand to Danny and pulled him up.
Danny looked down at their bodies. "Maybe a shower first?" Danny suggested.
"Yeah," Steve said, already picturing the way Danny was going to look with water streaming down his body. He touched the bandage on Danny's arm, an odd-textured wrap, not the usual gauze. "Do you need to do anything to that for the shower?"
Danny shook his head. "Waterproof," he said. "I don't need to change it until morning."
"Good." He leaned in for another kiss. "I'm sorry," he said, resting his forehead against Danny's, his eyes closed.
"For what? For once you weren't the reason I got shot."
Steve huffed, opening his eyes and lifting his head. "For taking so long to figure this out."
Danny shrugged. "I could've forced you to see it, if I hadn't been so scared of it myself." He shook his head. "We're a couple of great detectives, aren't we?"
"Lucky for the people of Hawaii we're better at detecting crime?"
Danny laughed. "Something like that," he said, stepping back and putting a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Shower," he said, pushing Steve towards the stairs before moving past him, leading the way.
Steve followed gladly.