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Everything gets turned around	By : mermaidnz Category: G through L > Hawaii Five-0 (2010) > Hawaii Five-0 (2010) Views: 2499 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hawaii Five-0, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Everything gets turned around
- 1
Spoilers: up to 1x18, then goes AU. None of the subsequent canonical events, including Jenna's arrival and her revelations about Wo Fat, ever happened.

Author's notes: This is a sequel to Even when you're feeling warm and its companion piece, The temperature could drop away. It won't make much sense unless you've read those first. There is also now a companion piece to this story, completing the series: You can take me where you will.

***

Thanks to the heavy traffic, it's early evening by the time Steve pulls his truck into the Punchbowl cemetery. He turns off the engine, and looks past the nearly-empty parking lot to the neatly-manicured lawns. Most of the servicemen and women buried here died violently, long before their time. Their final resting place is tranquil and beautiful, though, especially in the golden light of the sinking sun.

Dad used to bring Steve to this cemetery as a boy, every Memorial Day and on Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day too. Steve's grandfather went down with the Arizona, so there's no grave here to visit. But his name is inscribed on the large marble memorial, and lives on in Steve himself.

The last time Steve came here was the day Mary first arrived back in Hawaii. He's been busy as hell in the months since then, sure, but the truth is Steve hasn't been able to face it...face Dad.

Though he left the state park just behind Steve, Danny isn't here yet. Maybe he wanted to give Steve some time alone at his father's grave; maybe it's just that he drives slower. Having yelled at Danny only a few hours ago for invading his privacy, Steve now finds that he doesn't want to do this by himself. So he rolls down the window to let in the cool breeze, and waits.

Danny arrives twenty minutes later, climbing out of the car and looking surprised to see Steve still in the parking lot. In his hands is the reason he was delayed: a lei of fresh tropical flowers.

"Ma always takes flowers to my grandparents' graves," Danny explains as he walks over, although Steve hadn't asked yet. "She figures that even if her parents can't see her from heaven, Jesus is smiling approvingly and St. Peter is putting another check mark next to her name."

Steve nods his understanding. He'd met Danny's parents six months ago, after Matt took off for his exciting new life as financial advisor to a drug cartel. Mrs. Williams was devout, loud, and kind of overwhelming. Her husband had seemed like a solid guy, though, not saying much but clearly proud of Danny and devoted to Grace.

He gets out of his truck, and leads Danny through the cemetery. "Did you know about the Memorial Day tradition, here? The Boy Scouts place a lei and a flag at every single grave – over fifty thousand of them. I did it too, when I was a kid."

"Yeah, Gracie's class put together some of those leis this year," Danny says. "I didn't make this one, obviously, but I told the florist why I needed it."

He points at the brightly-colored interwoven blossoms in turn. "She said this kind of flower meant deep friendship, and this one showed respect for the dead."

"Thank you, Danno. I appreciate it." Steve is surprised, but pleased, that Danny adhered to Hawaiian custom like this. He really is adjusting to island life.

When they reach Dad's grave, Danny places the lei on the grass, bowing his head for a moment. Then he steps back a few feet and turns away slightly, very obviously glancing around the cemetery rather than watching Steve.

Giving Steve space is a nice gesture, but fuck that – Steve wants Danny here.

"Hey," Steve says, stretching out his hand, and Danny comes like he's been magnetically pulled in. He hugs Steve around the waist, and Steve wraps his right arm around Danny's shoulders. They've hardly ever touched like this before, mostly restricting themselves to manly backslaps and the occasional punch, but it feels so good.

Within the comfort of Danny's embrace, Steve looks down at the grave and silently apologizes to Dad for getting him killed.

Steve knows there's no point torturing himself with hypotheticals, knows that grief and guilt are fucking with his head. Still, he's spent this whole year thinking about what he should've done differently, working through various scenarios that could have kept Dad alive.

If he'd figured out in advance that Victor Hesse intended to take his father hostage, Steve could have deliberately lost Anton Hesse's trail. To save Dad he might even have gone AWOL, and to hell with the cost to his Navy career.

Or, once the Hesse brothers' plan went into effect, he could have just given them what they wanted. In the chaos following that deadly attack on the convoy, who'd have known for sure that Steve allowed his prisoner to escape?

There's a horrible sense of history repeating, here. Dad trying to rid Hawaii of the yakuza led to Mom's death...and Steve trying to bring an international arms dealer to justice led to Dad's death. Being killed in the line of someone else's duty is apparently the way to go, in the McGarrett family.

He doesn't know how long he stands there, taking strength from Danny's quiet, undemanding presence. The shadows around them lengthen as the sun sinks behind the mountains. Finally, Steve takes a deep breath and says, "Okay."

"Okay." Danny tightens his arms around Steve briefly, and then lets go. "I'm starving – dinner at your place?"

"Sure, but I'm pretty much out of food," Steve admits as they head back to the parking lot. "And I really don't feel like grocery shopping tonight."

"I have multiple takeout places on speed dial, my friend," Danny says. "It's truly a wonder of the modern age, the way we can pay people money to bring us food."

Steve has to smile. "Yeah, all right. How about Chinese? Order me pretty much anything that isn't deep-fried, and I'll meet you at home."

Danny nods, already pulling out his phone as he walks to the car. Steve stands still for a moment longer, looking back at his father's grave.

"Bye, Dad," he says quietly, then gets into his truck.

***

Steve stops by a liquor store and picks up a six-pack of Danny's favorite beer, plus a bottle of his father's preferred Scotch. If tonight goes badly, Steve plans to sit out on the lanai alone and get very, very drunk.

There's a drugstore next door, and Steve thinks about topping up his condom and lube supplies. But he's got enough to be going on with, unless he and Danny do nothing but fuck for days. Also, his face is well known around Oahu these days. It's probably safer to order such personal items online.

Danny beats him to their destination, this time, and has already let himself into the house. Steve finds him on the couch, pulling off his totally inadequate footwear. The band-aids appear to have held during the trip down from the petroglyphs, but Danny is wincing and cursing under his breath.

Steve doesn't tell Danny to toughen up – doesn't say that he himself once hiked barefoot across a mountain pass in Afghanistan, after loaning his boots to the kidnapped diplomat his SEALs had just rescued. His life experiences have been so different to Danny's that such comparisons would be unfair. Anyway, it's classified.

He gets them each a beer, and sits down next to Danny. Steve has always been careful in the past to leave a wide gap between them on this couch, but now it might be okay to get a little closer. He still leaves enough space for plausible deniability, though, and keeps his hands to himself. After some time alone tonight to think, Danny could have changed his mind about Steve.

Danny huffs out a breath. He bridges the gap until their bodies are pressed side-by-side, like they were still in that small rocky hollow on the mountainside, and turns to face Steve.

"I understand that you are kind of terrible at this interpersonal communication business," Danny says. "So let me clear up a few things using words of one syllable: I'm here by choice, Steve, and I want to be close to you. I've wanted you for months."

"'Wanted' has two syllables," Steve points out, almost on autopilot, as he absorbs what Danny is telling him.

Danny rolls his eyes. "Shut up, you big nerd," he says, counting out each word on his fingers with exaggerated precision.

Dropping his hands to his lap, Danny looks at Steve steadily. "I want to kiss you, and touch you, and suck you, and fuck you, and have you do all those things to me. Then sleep in your bed, and wake up next to you, and do it all some more. And the next day, too, and the next week, and month, and...for a long, long time, you hear me?"

A small part of Steve's brain is impressed that Danny could put together such a comprehensive monosyllabic answer on the spot. But mostly, he's overwhelmed with relief. Danny isn't out to scratch a long-standing itch with the closest willing guy. And he seems to want an actual relationship with Steve, not merely something casual.

Steve can't understand how Danny can just say all that stuff, putting his desires and feelings on display like it's nothing – like it's easy – but he's very glad to hear it.

"Sounds good to me," Steve manages, after a few seconds.

But Danny's not done. "I will not freak if we do this, I swear to God," he says, holding Steve's gaze. "So can you try to chill out, please?"

Taking a deep breath, Steve says, "Yeah, okay. I'm just...well, this is kind of new to me too. I've only ever had, uh, brief physical encounters with guys. Anything else was too much of a risk to my career."

Danny's expression softens. He leans his head against Steve's shoulder, one hand tracing soothing circles on his knee. "Hey, you know what I heard on the radio this morning? As of today, 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' is officially history. How's that for good timing?"

It's not like a weight suddenly lifts from Steve's mind, but his next breath comes a little easier. "Huh, really? I knew the repeal was happening sometime soon, but I've been preoccupied."

"Yeah. I guess this is a day to remember, all round," Danny says, and Steve can't disagree.

They sit there quietly for a long moment, then Danny pulls away and says, "Can I suggest you go take a shower? I find you stupidly attractive at all times, don't get me wrong, but you really stink."

It's a reasonable request, seeing as Steve went straight from surfing this morning to running up a mountain this afternoon. He tries not to feel disappointed that Danny doesn't want to shower with him, since it's probably way too soon for that.

Danny tilts his head, like he can read Steve's thoughts. "Trust me, babe: I would like nothing better than to see you naked, right now. But we've got maybe ten minutes before the delivery guy arrives, and that's not nearly enough time for what I've got in mind."

"Good point," Steve concedes, and hurries upstairs. He detours via his room, to strip off the bedding – tangled and sweat-soaked after last night's bad dreams – and put fresh sheets on, then heads for the shower. He runs the water as hot as he can bear, his muscles uncoiling and his mind clearing.

He has no idea how far they're going to go tonight...that's really up to Danny. Just in case, he washes every inch of his body. If Danny wants to fuck him, Steve will be ready and so very willing.

Just the thought of it gets Steve hard again. He should probably wait, but he's afraid that he'll go off like a teenager the moment Danny gets near him. Danny's first experience with a guy should really be a little more prolonged. So Steve starts stroking his cock, eyes closed, imagining that he's not showering alone.

He visualizes his soap-slick hands on Danny's smooth wet skin, revealed and touchable at last; he pictures Danny blowing him for the first time, inexpert yet so fucking hot. Steve's fantasized about all this before, yeah, but now it really might happen. He works his cock fast and rough, tugging on his balls with the other hand, and comes more quickly than he has in years.

Steve slumps back against the shower wall, chest heaving. He masturbates pretty silently, thanks to almost two decades of communal living, so Danny shouldn't have heard anything. Danny might be flattered, sure, but things between them are still new and tentative and Steve can't take any risks.

***

Once he's clean and dry, Steve tries to decide what to wear. Just a bathrobe seems like a step too far, so he pulls on a comfortable old t-shirt and yoga pants before heading downstairs.

There's Chinese food all over the counter – Danny seems to have ordered half the menu – and the mingled aromas make Steve's stomach rumble. Lunch seems like a long time ago. Danny is bustling around the kitchen, pulling out plates and forks, and Steve kind of loves the way he's so at home here.

They settle back on the couch with their plates piled high, and Steve asks, "Hey, you want to watch some football?"

"Sure," Danny says. Steve finds a re-broadcast of last week's Notre Dame – Michigan game, which neither of them got to see at the time. Danny cheers for the Fighting Irish, since he's ethnically Irish and nominally Catholic, while Steve backs the Wolverines just to be contrary. They've watched sports together plenty of times, but now there's an undercurrent of anticipation even though they both know the final score already.

When Notre Dame eventually wins with a last-minute touchdown, Danny grins with delight and Steve just can't resist. He leans over and kisses Danny, taking the initiative for the first time, and Danny responds eagerly. But while Steve is debating whether he should just go for it and press Danny flat against the couch, his phone buzzes.

Though he wants to ignore it, shut the world out, Steve is never truly off-duty and doing his duty is a deeply ingrained reflex. He pulls back, reluctantly, and checks the screen.

"It's my sister," he tells Danny. "I really should talk to her."

"Go ahead," Danny says, standing up and heading for the stairs. "I need a shower, anyway, so take your time."

Steve picks up. "Hey, Mary," he says.

The two of them catch up on general stuff, first. Mary talks about the papers she's taking this semester – she decided to use her share of their inheritance to put herself through community college – and about her lovely new roommate Lisa. Steve gives her the sanitized highlights of Five-0's latest cases, and tells her how great it felt to get out on the waves this morning.

Then he says, "I visited Dad's grave tonight."

Mary's quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I thought about him a lot today. My psych professor was talking about how people handle grief differently, and it made me wonder about you. Have you really processed Dad's death at all, or are you still in repression mode?"

Huh, Steve thinks to himself: apparently he has two people in his life who ask about his psychological state. Oddly, it's reassuring instead of invasive. This conversation would have been impossible yesterday, or last week, but now he feels able to deal with it.

"I guess I spent most of this past year working my ass off," Steve says, "and trying not to think about him too much. But it's kind of caught up with me recently. Today was really hard."

"So what did you say to Dad, at the cemetery?"

"I told him how sorry I was that he died because of me," Steve admits.

"Jesus Christ," Mary says, "and I thought I was the fucked-up one in this family. Steve, it wasn't your fault. You were doing your job – how could you have known what was going to happen? Anyway, do you honestly think that if you'd let Anton go, his brother would have untied Dad and just walked away? Victor Hesse is a psychopath who wanted to hurt you, however he could...there was no way it could have ended well."

Steve closes his eyes as he listens to her. Mary had demanded to read the complete file on Dad's death after she was kidnapped in January, so she does actually have an idea of what she's talking about. And she's right about Victor, of course. His actions during Chin's bomb scare prove that he was hardly a trustworthy negotiator.

"I do know all that, Mary," Steve says. "But I still can't help feeling guilty."

She sighs. "Hey, I feel bad too – I never forgave Dad for sending us away. He used to write me in Des Moines, but I refused to reply no matter how much Grandma nagged me. I didn't visit Hawaii when I was older, not once, even though Dad offered to buy the plane ticket. I just cut him out of my life, and it's too late to take it back."

"Yeah, but you had a right to be angry," Steve says. "Now we know he was trying to solve Mom's murder, and protect us from the yakuza. Back then, he didn't tell us a damn thing."

"I could have tried to understand, though," Mary insists. "Even without the yakuza angle, Dad lost the only woman he ever loved; he was left with two grieving kids and no clue what to do. He still had to work long hours, but he had no family here to help him out. So getting our grandparents to look after us probably seemed like the best option."

"It's good that you can see it that way," Steve says, and means it. Mary sounds much happier these days.

Mary laughs a little. "Well, I have an excellent therapist. She's helped me a lot since I came back to LA. I think you'd really benefit from seeing one, too."

"I don't like shrinks."

"Color me shocked," she says dryly. "But seriously, Steve, you've got to talk about this shit to someone."

"I talk to Danny," Steve protests. "He even came with me to the cemetery tonight."

"Oh, that's great. Danny's a fantastic guy."

And here's the thing: Steve has been afraid of coming out, of being exposed, since he was a teenage football player trying not to check out his teammates in the showers. But today, he thinks...to hell with it.

"Mary, I'm in love with him," Steve says in a rush.

"No kidding," Mary replies calmly, "but thanks for telling me. So are you two together yet?"

Her reaction makes Steve blink for a moment. Fuck, his attraction to Danny must have been far more obvious than he'd realized. How many other people know?

"Yeah, kind of. We started working things out this afternoon, actually, and he's at the house with me now."

"So stop talking to me and go have some fun already," Mary says. "You deserve it, Steve."

Steve swallows hard. "Thanks, sis."

***

He hangs up and checks the clock – twenty minutes have passed since Mary called. Steve can't hear the shower running anymore, but Danny hasn't come back downstairs.

Steve takes the stairs two at a time, sees the bathroom door standing open, and then stops dead in the doorway to his room. Danny is lying on the bed, wearing Steve's bathrobe. His hair is damp and his feet are bare. God, he's beautiful. Just the sight of him like this makes Steve's cock stir.

Danny opens his eyes and looks over at Steve. "Hey, hope you don't mind; I wanted to give you some space to talk to Mary. Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Steve says. "I told her about us, but somehow she already knew."

"She's a smart one, your sister," Danny says.

"Have you told anyone? Are you going to?"

Danny shrugs. "Not yet, but I will. Gracie loves you already, so that should be fine. Rachel always knew I was interested in guys; she won't be too surprised about us getting together. My parents and sisters have no clue, and I'd rather hold off on dropping that bombshell for a while. As for everyone else, well, I'm willing to be open about this but I'd understand if you felt differently."

Christ, Steve can't even think about that yet. Hawaii is a relatively progressive place, sure, but is he ready to come out? Hiding his orientation has become automatic, after so long. Still, Danny shouldn't have to feel like Steve is ashamed of him.

His conflicted feelings must be visible on his face, because Danny says, "Can we talk about this another time? Your bed is really comfortable, and I'm gonna fall asleep if I just keep lying here."

Taking a step towards the bed, Steve asks, "Do you want to sleep?"

"I already told you what I want," Danny says, rolling onto his side to face Steve. "Remember all those one-syllable verbs from earlier? I really can't be any more explicit without making grunting noises and obscene gestures. So you can strip off and get started on my list, or you can switch off the light and fall asleep next to me."

Steve feels dumbstruck, rooted to the spot. After a few seconds of silence, Danny adds, "Or...or I could get dressed, go home, and maybe come back tomorrow instead."

"No, don't go," Steve says quickly, hating that uncertain look on Danny's face. Hell, he has to get himself together here before he screws everything up.

"Okay, so that leaves option A or option B. Either is fine, Steve – just make up your mind."

And really, there's no question. Danny's wish-list is seared onto Steve's brain: kiss, touch, suck, fuck. Sleep was on the list, too, and God knows Steve needs some. But he needs Danny more.

"I'll do my best to keep you up," Steve says as he walks across the room.

Danny laughs. "That won't be a problem, trust me. Now c'mon, let me see you."

Steve obeys, pulling off his clothes until he's standing beside the bed naked. And fuck, nobody has ever looked at him with so much hunger before. Danny watches intently as Steve's cock hardens further, pre-come beading at the tip, and he licks his lips as if imagining how it will taste.

And Steve's self-control snaps. He surges forward onto the bed, pushes Danny flat on his back, and kisses him hard. Danny opens his mouth to let Steve in, wrapping his arms around Steve's neck. It feels so dizzyingly good to have Danny under him, submitting to him, that Steve just stops thinking for a while.

But when Danny suddenly turns his head away, breaking the kiss, and gasps, "Wait, wait," Steve pulls back instantly.

"Sorry," he says, rolling to the side with his stomach in knots. Shit – he's pushed too far, too fast. Danny follows him over, though, and lays a hand on Steve's chest.

"Hey, no, it's cool. I wasn't complaining, Steve. I just wanted you to let me up so I could join the naked party."

Steve looks away. "Still, I...I didn't mean to be so aggressive."

Danny exhales hard. "Okay, listen," he says, tilting Steve's chin up so their eyes meet. "Clearly it's time for the one syllable game again, so pay attention: I am not made of glass. I won't change my mind. I want you to kiss me like that some more. You got that?"

"Yes," Steve breathes.

"All right, then." Sitting up, Danny shrugs off the bathrobe. Steve drinks in the sight of his broad shoulders, muscled chest, and toned belly. Danny's skin is pale, but dusted with golden-brown hair that Steve wants to run his fingers through.

"It's my turn to drive, babe. Lie on your back," Danny orders, and Steve obeys instinctively. Danny tosses the robe to the floor, then straddles Steve's hips and stretches out on top of him.

His hands cupping Steve's face and his mouth an inch above Steve's, Danny asks, "Okay?" Steve can only nod silently – he's overwhelmed by the feel of Danny naked against him. God, at last.

The ensuing kiss isn't as fierce as when Steve was in charge, but plenty passionate. Steve shouldn't be surprised that Danny's such a talented kisser, since fuck knows his mouth muscles get a lot of exercise. Steve winds shaking fingers through his silky hair, holding him close; he runs his other hand up and down Danny's back, learning the shape of him by touch.

Danny's cock is pressed against him, only half-hard. He's clearly enjoying himself, if the sounds he's making into Steve's mouth are any indication, so Steve isn't worried. His own erection is full and aching for friction, though, and it takes all his discipline for Steve to keep his hips still.

But when Danny starts kissing Steve's neck and finds the super-sensitive area under his ear, that self-control gives way. Steve gasps, and thrusts up against Danny involuntarily. Danny makes a satisfied noise and then flicks his tongue across that patch of skin, and Steve moans quietly.

"Yeah, that's it. I like hearing you," Danny murmurs. He keeps going, licking and sucking at Steve's throat and rubbing his body against Steve's, until Steve is clutching at Danny's shoulders and unable to recognize the words coming out of his own mouth.

Danny stills his hips, then, and says, "Hey...before we both come, can I at least get my hands on you?"

And really, Steve has no objection to that – he wants as much of Danny as he can get, and there's nothing he wouldn't give in return. So he nods and lets Danny shift to one side, propping himself up on one elbow and laying his other hand on Steve's chest. Steve's breath hitches as Danny thumbs across his nipples, traces the curve of his muscles, and cards through his chest hair.

Danny looks fascinated, like he's cataloguing the differences between Steve and everyone else he's ever slept with. Steve would be impatient, except that Danny's cock is getting even harder against his leg. Whatever he's finding out, about Steve and about himself, seems to be something he likes.

"Steve, I wanna touch you now," Danny says, trailing his fingers over Steve's ribs and across his belly.

"Go for it," Steve says, voice coming out uneven as Danny circles his navel. "There's lube in the bedside drawer, if you need it."

Danny rolls over and finds the small bottle, slicking his hand up. Steve might have expected Danny to be hesitant about this next step, like he was when they first kissed. But he just fucking goes for it, wrapping his hand around Steve's cock like a goddamn pro. Steve feels like he's had the air sucked out of his lungs, can't even breathe, at the sensation of Danny's strong fingers and gun-calloused palm gripping him tight.

Steve folds his wrists under his head, to keep himself in check and to get a better view. Danny is also watching his hand move, biting his lower lip with an expression of avid concentration. It's hot, unbearably hot, to know that Danny's never done this to any other guy.

"Is this good?" Danny asks, glancing at his face. "Some feedback would be helpful, here."

"So damn good," Steve tells him. "Gonna be over real soon, if you keep this up."

But Danny slows his hand to a stop, and he says, "Can you be patient just a little longer, then? I haven't finished exploring yet."

He slides down Steve's cock to squeeze at the base, and Steve swallows hard. He wants to come, right the fuck now – but God, he's desperate for Danny to touch his balls and his ass.

"Becoming familiar with the terrain is a crucial aspect of any mission," Steve manages. Under the circumstances, he's proud of himself for uttering a complete, coherent sentence.

"So, Commander, do I have permission to conduct further recon?" Danny's grinning, but his eyes are blown dark and his erection is smearing pre-come on Steve's thigh. It's incredible to know that touching Steve turns him on this much.

"Access all areas, sailor," Steve says, parting his legs as a not-so-subtle hint.

As Danny trails his fingertips across Steve's balls, Steve can't help bucking up into the touch with a loud groan. It feels like all his nerve endings have come to life.

Danny gives a breathless laugh. "You like that, huh?"

"Fuck, yes," Steve pants. "Use your nails, and then tug a little...oh, Christ, that's so good."

It's the most delicious kind of torture, to have Danny map his hot zones like this. The qualities that make him such a great detective – analytical mind, good memory, and strong instincts – apparently make him fantastic in bed too.

Next, Danny presses on that area behind his balls that makes Steve shudder and see stars. "I always wondered if that worked for other guys," Danny muses, doing it again like a scientist repeating an experiment.

"You're killing me here, Danny," Steve grinds out. He clenches his fists against the pillow, to keep himself from pinning Danny to the bed and rutting against him until they both explode.

"Oh, so you want me to stop this, and just stroke your cock some more? Because I could continue further south, here." Slowly, teasingly, Danny walks his fingers down the super-sensitive skin of Steve's perineum.

"Please," Steve says, spreading his knees wider to give Danny better access to his ass.

Danny strokes across his hole, just a feather-light touch, but Steve feels it down to his toes. Fuck, it's been so long. Danny presses harder, his lube-slick fingertips sliding back and forth. Sensation sparks in his wake, and Steve takes deep gulping breaths.

"You can, if you want," he offers.

"I do want, believe me," Danny says, kissing Steve's chest. "But no, let's save that for another time. I've gathered enough evidence for now."

"What...you needed proof that I'm gay for you, or proof that you're gay for me?" Steve means it as a joke – well, kind of – but Danny shakes his head.

"Evidence that you are the hottest person I've ever seen, and that I'm not gonna get bored of touching you." Danny runs his nails up from Steve's ass to his balls, making Steve shiver all over.

"Or tasting you –" He licks across Steve's nipple, then sucks on it. When Danny bites down, Steve feels it like an electric current straight to his cock.

"– or kissing you." Danny turns his head and captures Steve's mouth, confident and certain now, and so fucking passionate.

The kiss alone is enough to make Steve's head spin. And when Danny starts jacking him off again, it's almost too much to bear. Steve thrusts up into Danny's hand, whimpering helplessly, and Danny tightens his grip on Steve's cock and speeds up.

Danny kisses along Steve's jaw, licks his neck, and nibbles at his earlobe. "C'mon," he whispers, "let me hear you, let me see you. Waited so long for this, babe...I wanna make you fall apart."

"God, Danny," Steve sobs, his whole body tensing and arching as his orgasm hits like the perfect wave. Underneath the roaring in his ears, he hears Danny murmuring filthy praise as he watches Steve come.

***

The surge of white-hot pleasure ebbs away, leaving Steve panting and trembling in its wake. Danny kisses his neck and says, "Fuck, that was hot."

Steve laughs shakily, then lifts his head and unfolds his aching arms. "I think that's my line. Damn – are you sure you've never done that before?"

Danny shrugs. "Only ever practiced on myself." He runs his fingertips through the come spattered on Steve's belly, and then licks his thumb experimentally. Steve holds his breath, anticipating a wince of disgust, but Danny just says, "Huh. Not bad."

"You know, pineapple is supposed to make a guy's semen sweeter," Steve points out, because not even a mind-blowing orgasm can stop him from winding Danny up.

"I call bullshit," Danny replies flatly. "And if you start force-feeding me Hawaiian pizza or pineapple juice, I will punch you."

"I don't care how you taste," Steve says, and he's done teasing now. "I want to blow you anyway. Will you let me?"

Danny sucks his breath in. "Shouldn't I be the one doing the begging? Jesus, Steve, of course you can."

"Can you pass me the Kleenex first?" Steve asks, eyeing the mess on his belly.

Instead of reaching over to the bedside table, Danny rolls off the bed and walks out the door, returning with a clean towel. Steve lies there and just stares, enjoying his first proper look at Danny's naked body. His ass is spectacular, his legs short but strong. Danny's erection is bigger than Steve had expected and fuck, Steve wants it: in his hand, in his mouth, in his ass, however he can get it.

"I'll burst into flames if you keep looking at me like that," Danny says, wiping come and lube off them both.

"Honestly, I don't think you could get any hotter," Steve says, surprising himself – and Danny too, judging by the way he raises his eyebrows and then grins.

"Hey, now there's that 'Smooth Dog' charm I've heard so much about." Danny tosses the towel aside and lies down on his back. "What else you got, huh?"

Steve loves Danny for trying to put him at ease, but the reassurance isn't so necessary now. His orgasm seems to have bled off most of his anxiety...and if Danny was going to freak out, Steve figures he probably would have done it already. Anyway, Steve knows from experience that getting sucked off feels good whether it's a man or a woman doing it.

Though his head is still spinning and his physical exhaustion has caught up with him, Steve intends to give Danny the best blowjob of his life. He wants to touch Danny all over, first; he wants to lick and suck and kiss every inch of his body. But Danny's waited long enough for this.

So Steve kneels between Danny's legs, flashes him a grin, lowers his head, and swallows Danny straight down.

"Jesus fuck, Steve," Danny shouts, and yeah, Steve just knew he'd be loud. It's so fucking exhilarating, though, because this is no longer illicit. They're not hiding in some secluded corner of a naval base, or in the seedy bathroom of a gay bar. 'DADT' is history, and there's no need to keep quiet anymore.

He smiles around Danny's cock and keeps going, using every trick he knows for driving guys crazy: tonguing the sensitive spot just under the crown, licking across the slit, and sucking hard as he sinks down again. Steve runs his hands over Danny's skin too, smoothing along his belly and thighs and caressing his balls.

Danny is swearing up a storm, between panted breaths, but he's being polite with his body. His hands are fisted at his sides, with his hips only making tiny rocking motions. Steve doesn't want restraint, though; he wants Danny to make him feel it. So he pulls back, grabs Danny's hands, and positions them either side of his head as a silent invitation.

"Okay, yeah, if you insist," Danny gasps. He flexes his fingers against Steve's scalp and begins to fuck his face. Steve relaxes his throat and lets Danny in, groaning at the overload of sensation. It's been a long time since he let anyone have this much power over him, but it feels fantastic.

Steve can tell when Danny's close, because he stops talking and just makes desperate sounds. Danny's thrusts become erratic, his grip on Steve's hair tightens, and with a wordless shout he comes in Steve's mouth. Steve eagerly gulps it down, knowing that the sensation of him swallowing will increase Danny's pleasure.

Danny slumps back against the pillows, eyes closed and chest heaving. His cock slips out of Steve's mouth as it softens, and Steve licks his lips to catch every last drop.

"Wow," Danny finally manages, and looks down at Steve. "That was even better than I'd imagined, and God knows I've imagined it plenty. When you called this morning, I was actually in the middle of a dream about you blowing me."

Steve wishes he'd woken up to such enjoyable mental images, instead of a nightmare about Danny's death. It must show in his expression because Danny strokes his cheek and says, "Hey, come up here – mandatory post-coital cuddling time, babe."

There's nothing Steve wants more, right now, but first he sits back on his heels and stretches out his cramping muscles. "Did that actually count as coitus? Nobody got fucked."

Danny shrugs. "I look like a dictionary to you? But hey, if you're gonna be pedantic about it, let's put 'somebody getting fucked' on the to-do list for tomorrow. It's not like I've got anything else planned."

"Yeah, I think I can clear my busy schedule for that," Steve says. He realizes that he's smiling at Danny like an idiot, but he can't seem to stop. Anyway, Danny looks goofy too.

"I have to go downstairs and switch the alarm on," Steve continues, "but after that I'll indulge your cuddling fetish."

"Okay," Danny says. "Just hurry back, before I fall asleep."

Steve kisses Danny's hip and gets out of bed. Retrieving his bathrobe from the floor, he pads down to the front door, checks that it's locked, and sets the alarm.

In the kitchen, he downs a glass of water then pours another for Danny. Catching sight of the bottle of Scotch on the counter makes Steve pause. Drowning his sorrows was the original plan for tonight, and some part of him still longs to drink until he passes out. At least then he wouldn't dream of death.

But Steve has fewer sorrows now than he did this morning. Mary doesn't blame him for getting their father killed; 'DADT' is dead and buried; and the man Steve's wanted all year is waiting in his bed, naked and safe and alive. So Steve adds the unopened bottle to his liquor cabinet, shuts the door, and heads upstairs.

He sets the glass of water down on the bedside table, and Danny smiles gratefully before draining it. When Steve switches off the lights and gets back into bed, Danny rolls onto his side and – as promised – embraces Steve, one arm under his head and the other draped across his body.

Danny kisses Steve softly. "I could definitely get used to this," he murmurs.

Steve can't say any of the things he truly feels: that he never wants Danny to let him go, that he's stupidly reluctant to close his eyes in case Danny disappears, and that he loves Danny so much it scares him. Instead, he presses his face against Danny's neck and makes a wordless hum of agreement, which turns into a yawn too big to suppress.

"Tired, huh?" Though it's dark, Steve can hear the smile in Danny's voice.

"It's been a long day, and last night was...rough," Steve admits.

Danny pulls the comforter up around them. "Think you can fall asleep like this? I could shift back if you need more space."

"No, stay. It's good." Steve has spent many nights in confined spaces, often packed like sardines with his comrades; this entwining of warm, bare limbs is heaven by comparison. And maybe this way Steve can hold onto Danny, even in his sleep.

"I will be here when you wake up," Danny says, reading Steve's mind again. "Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Steve breathes, and closes his eyes.
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