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Swim to me, let me enfold you	By : mermaidnz Category: G through L > Hawaii Five-0 (2010) > Hawaii Five-0 (2010) Views: 4919 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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-Swim to me, let me enfold you
- 1
PART ONE

Danny knows how to swim, okay?

Every summer, back in Jersey, the kids in his neighborhood would practically live at the local outdoor pool. They used to play a bunch of different games, but Danny's favorite was diving for quarters. He was good at holding his breath, so he'd always stay under as long as he could after retrieving the coin from the pool floor.

Danny liked to flip himself over, down at the deep end, and look up to the sky. The surface of the pool swirled and rippled, far above him, and shafts of sunlight created sparkling patterns in the water. Danny loved those few seconds of total submersion, when the world seemed muffled and distant, the same way he loved standing out in the backyard as the first snowflakes of winter silently began to drift down.

As he'd gotten older, Danny hadn't swum so much; he and his friends mostly found better things to do on hot afternoons. And once he started working, he kept fit by going to the YMCA gym and playing pick-up games of basketball or hockey.

Still, he sometimes took his nieces and nephews to the pool – and then, when she was old enough, his daughter. Watching Grace splash around, little pink water-wings encasing her upper arms, could make Danny feel like laughing and crying all at once. A lot of parenting was like that, actually.

***

So, yeah. Danny likes swimming just fine, and he'd happily take Gracie to the pool every weekend he has custody.

But he's not so keen on the beach. Danny didn't want to come to Hawaii, didn't want to be somewhere so alien and brightly-colored and sun-drenched. The beach typifies everything he dislikes about this place, but that's something that he just can't get Steve to understand.

Mr. Super-SEAL himself is a fantastic swimmer, of course. He's like a goddamn dolphin, right down to the toothy grin and the fondness for chasing after poor defenseless fish.

Danny was stunned the first time he saw Steve in the water. It was a Monday morning, just a few weeks into Five-0's existence. He had to drop Grace off at school early, for her field trip. There was no point in going back to his silent, empty apartment for half an hour before picking Steve up. So Danny grabbed coffee and malasadas, and swung by the McGarrett house ahead of schedule.

There was no answer at the front door, and Steve wasn't picking up his phone or landline. He was probably just in the shower, but Danny wanted to make sure; his partner was too much of a trouble magnet to take anything for granted. So he walked around the side of the house, peering in the windows to check there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Danny was momentarily worried when he turned the corner to see the back door standing open. The glass of orange juice on the outdoor table and the towel draped over a deckchair reassured him, though, and he took his hand off his holstered gun. He sank into another chair, and took a much-needed gulp of coffee before starting on his first malasada of the morning.

Steve was maybe 150 yards offshore, and swimming towards him. Danny could barely see him for the early morning sunlight reflecting off the waves. Still, he could tell that Steve was moving fast, cutting through the water with incredible power.

Danny knew the guy was built; he'd noticed those muscles, could hardly help it, what with the way Steve pulled off his shirt so often. But it was really something else to see that perfect body in action like this.

And yeah, so maybe Danny had been checking Steve out ever since they met: the strength of his upper arms, the way a black tee clung to his chest, and the impressive tightness of his ass. Hell, his face was pretty damn fine too. Danny hadn't slept with a guy for over ten years now, and post-Rachel he'd mostly been looking at women. But he could definitely appreciate the fact that his partner was a very attractive man.

It was just as well that Steve was also a uniquely irritating man, always providing a reason to criticize his methods or question his sanity. Never running out of things to yell at him stopped Danny from saying other things, like "Can I lick your tats?" or "Christ, I want to fuck you."

So Danny had a pretty good idea of what he was going to see when Steve walked out of the ocean. Still, he wasn't prepared for the sheer overwhelming hotness of the sight. Water dripped from Steve's dark hair, running in rivulets down his tanned, toned chest. His blue swim trunks were like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination, and Danny licked his lips.

"Malasada?" he offered, by way of greeting.

Steve gulped down his juice and grinned, evidently unbothered by Danny's unusually early arrival. "No thanks. Just one of those things would cancel out my morning swim."

Danny had a vision, right then, of pinning Steve to the ground and feeding him a donut before licking the powdered sugar off his lips. The powerful mental image knocked his thought processes offline, momentarily, and reduced him to blinking up at Steve. Thankfully, Danny's mouth could operate without direct instruction from his brain.

"Donuts and coffee constitute a classic breakfast for cops, okay," he found himself saying. "Now you're a member of the law enforcement fraternity, shouldn't you start picking up some of our habits? I thought they taught you Army guys how to blend into a crowd."

Steve rolled his eyes, not taking the bait, and padded into the house to shower. Danny sipped his coffee, gazing out at the ocean and willing his heart rate to slow down.

***

The next time it happened, Danny maybe wasn't so subtle in his admiration of Steve's wet body. He was standing on the small patch of lawn behind the McGarrett house, once again watching as his partner emerged from the water.

He was wearing a black pair of trunks that day, smaller and even tighter than the blue ones, and the outline of his cock was clearly visible. Jesus, everything about Steve was in proportion, wasn't it. Looking at him made Danny's boxers feel too tight.

Steve walked towards him, stopping two feet away and looking him up and down. Danny wished he'd thought to hold Steve's towel so he could hide his inconvenient erection behind it, but it was too late. Steve raised an eyebrow, silently questioning, and Danny decided to just brazen it out.

"It's a purely physical response to an aesthetically pleasing sight, okay? You look like a Greek god, and you fucking know it. Anyone with a pulse would get a little turned on!"

Danny was waving a hand in Steve's direction, trying to encompass the ridiculous attractiveness he had to deal with. Ninja-like, Steve grabbed hold of Danny's wrist mid-gesture, pressing two fingers against his skin while Danny just stared at him.

"Yeah, you've definitely got a pulse. It's going pretty fast, too, so I'd say you were more than a little turned on," Steve said, slanting another glance down at Danny's tented pants.

His voice was deeper than usual, rougher, and he had an expression that Danny recognized. It was the 'your ass is mine' face Steve got after chasing down an especially wily criminal. Having that predatory and exultant look turned on Danny was new, and scary, and hot as hell.

Danny dropped his gaze, and saw that the wet black fabric was now perfectly molded to Steve's own impressive erection. He swallowed, mouth gone too dry to talk.

Using his hold on Danny's wrist to reel him in closer, Steve laid his right hand on the side of Danny's face. The cool, wet touch against his overheated skin was like a zing of electricity, and Danny shivered despite himself as Steve's lips met his.

It was as if all the synchronicity they'd developed as partners translated directly into sexual chemistry. Steve kissed like he swam, powerful and focused and highly skilled, and Danny matched him stroke for stroke. Fuck, it was good. Danny's had actual sex that turned him on less than this kiss.

Steve tasted of salt, and Danny's mind couldn't help skipping ahead – to Steve sucking his cock, to Danny coming down his throat and tasting his own salty flavor on Steve's tongue afterwards. The thought made him moan into Steve's mouth.

Steve tightened the grip on his wrist in response, and Danny put his other hand on Steve's side to steady himself. The skin there was hot and damp to the touch, with solid muscle underneath, and Danny wanted to drop to his knees and lick a path from his hip to his cock.

God knows how far they would have gone, right there in the backyard, with Danny still fully dressed and Steve nearly naked. But the shrill ring of a phone interrupted before things got any more interesting.

Steve pulled back, staring at Danny with pupils blown wide, before turning away to grab his phone off the table.

"McGarrett," he growled. Danny felt his cock twitch in response, but that voice probably sounded less sexy and more angry to whoever was on the phone.

Ten seconds later, Steve cut off the call and looked at Danny.

"Armed robbery in progress at a Honolulu bank – shots fired and hostages taken," he explained succinctly.

"Right, okay," Danny replied, mostly just to test that his voice still worked. "Uh...rain check?"

"You bet your ass," Steve said, tone filthy and full of promise, giving Danny a quick hard kiss before heading inside to get dressed. Danny swayed on his feet, blinking and breathing hard, and wished he had time for a cold shower before they sped off to save the day again.

***

They've been together, or at least fucking on a regular basis, ever since.

Sometimes the sex is an adrenaline release after Five-0's successfully closed a huge case; sometimes it's a means of mutual comfort after a depressing disaster. Either way, it's pretty much always fantastic.

It's been a couple of months now, and they haven't exactly talked about this. It's just become a thing they do, off-duty and in private.

Their teammates figured it out pretty fast, of course. Chin just shrugged, and said "Okay, cool." Kono rolled her eyes and snarked that "you two have been pulling each other's pigtails from the start, so what the hell took you so long?" Steve blinked at her uncomprehendingly, and Danny just laughed.

Rachel knows too, and has given her blessing (and isn't that a weird thing for Danny to contemplate). They're going to hold off on telling Grace for a little while, but she already accepts Steve as her daddy's best friend and likes spending time at his place. Danny's sure she'll be fine with it.

This thing of theirs has been characterized by a kind of gradual drift. It started off as once or twice a week. Now, Steve automatically drives Danny's car to his house after work, unless Danny says he wants a night to himself. Steve's cleared out a drawer in his dresser and made space in the closet; Danny's left an extra toothbrush and other toiletries in Steve's bathroom.

They haven't discussed it. Somehow, it just seems to work.

***

Steve is still incredibly irritating, of course, and Danny still berates him a lot. But now Danny has other means of encouraging good behavior in his reckless, stubborn, idiotic partner.

The current source of annoyance is Steve's insistence that Danny go swimming with him. They're on a stakeout, so Danny can't escape from this conversation. Steve's new plan of attack involves questioning Danny's aquatic ability, which, no. Danny twists round in the passenger seat to stare at him incredulously.

"Hey, I told you, I swim just fine. Also: my dad's Irish and my mom's Italian, okay? So my ancestors lived on an island and a peninsula, respectively. I come from a long line of water-capable people, is what I'm saying."

"Yeah, but they've been New Jersey landlubbers for how many generations now?"

Danny narrows his eyes. "Did you just say landlubber? Seriously? Is that what passes for a serious insult in the Marines?"

"Navy," Steve growls, waving his hands in frustration and narrowly missing the steering wheel. Danny recognizes that as exactly the kind of gesture he himself would make, and he has to suppress a smile.

Steve takes a deep breath. "Look," he says more calmly, "you know how to swim, and I have a beach right outside my house. We can go in the evening, if you don't want anyone else seeing you. I just...I want to go swimming with you, okay? It's something I love, and I want to share it with you."

And really, how can Danny fight that? He sighs and says "All right, fine," and Steve smiles and relaxes back in his seat. Peace temporarily restored, they both turn to face the warehouse that they're supposed to be watching for the next four hours.

***

PART TWO

It's Friday night, the end of a week that wasn't quite so crazy as usual; Danny's a pleasant kind of tired, instead of feeling wrung-out. They had a late lunch, so they're not hungry when they get back to Steve's. Danny gets beers out of the fridge, and the two of them sit outside and drink in companionable silence.

"So, how about that swim?" Steve eventually asks, when the sun has almost set.

Danny thinks about protesting, just for the sake of it, but he's relaxed and a little buzzed. It's been a hot day, even by Hawaii standards, and the water looks calm and inviting.

"Okay," he says. "I'll get my trunks and towel out of the car." Knowing that Steve wouldn't let the swimming thing go, Danny had grabbed his gear the last time he'd visited his apartment.

"We could go in naked," Steve suggests with a grin. "Private beach, remember?"

Danny laughs. "No way. Teenagers go skinny-dipping; we are responsible adults. Well, I am, anyway – I've got my doubts about you."

So he goes to grab his stuff, and gets changed inside the house before heading out to the beach. Steve's in those little black swim shorts again, and damn, it's nice to be able to ogle him openly. He's carrying a big blanket, which he shakes out and lays on the sand.

"I thought we could lie here, after, and watch the stars come out," he explains, and Danny's heart does not swell at the thought of Steve planning such a romantic gesture, no sir.

"Sure, sounds nice," he replies, smiling. He can acknowledge that Hawaii has one advantage over Jersey, at least – it's easier to see the night sky here.

Steve strides into the shallows, and turns to check that Danny is following him. If Danny's moving a little slower, it's because he's admiring Steve's ass rather than any reluctance to enter the water. Well, mostly. It's just been a very long time since he swam in the ocean, is all.

They wade out a few more yards. The seabed slopes away quite steeply, so Danny's soon waist-deep. He stops walking and sinks his body under, keeping his head clear; he doesn't want to get saltwater in his eyes. Steve has no hesitations about diving right under, though. Danny figures that SEALs must get pretty used to swimming at a moment's notice, with or without goggles.

They move into deeper water, Steve swimming freestyle and Danny doing breaststroke. He's having more fun than he expected. The water is warm, but still refreshing, and there's nothing between him and the horizon. The sunset is beautiful, with orange and pink and gold hues shading imperceptibly to azure blue. Danny rolls over onto his back to admire the view.

He knows that Steve usually swims hard and fast, but he seems content to keep pace with Danny tonight. Steve comes to a halt beside him, and they float for a while and look up at the sky.

Though the ocean is dark and deep, Danny doesn't let himself feel afraid of what's down there. He imagines that Steve is exuding alpha vibes to all the aquatic creatures in the vicinity, making them keep their distance.

Danny turns his head towards Steve, studying the calm, happy expression on his face. The only other time Danny's ever seen him this relaxed with his eyes open is after sex. This really is Steve's natural element, right here.

He wonders what came first, Steve's love of the water or his decision to follow his father and grandfather into the Navy.

He wonders whether swimming helps Steve think more effectively, or if it washes his mind clean of thought altogether.

He wonders if he'll notice the seawater taste of Steve's mouth if his own lips are salt-splashed too.

***

Danny lets his body sink down, leaving only his neck and head above the surface, and reaches out to grab his partner's hand. Steve smiles and lets himself be reeled in, and hey, there's one advantage of being in the water: Steve's greater body mass doesn't count for much.

Danny kisses Steve, wrapping his arms around his broad shoulders to bring their bodies closer. Steve glides his hands down Danny's back, and the combination of his touch plus the caress of the swirling displaced water makes Danny shiver. He's had sex in the shower, and even in a hot-tub, but nothing could have prepared him for this vast expanse of water and silence. They're just a hundred yards from the shore, but it feels like the two of them are the only people in the world.

They're both treading water to stay afloat, and Danny's out of practice; he'll get exhausted pretty soon.

Steve seems to sense this, and he stops kissing Danny to say, "Hey, I can hold us both up, okay? Just wrap your legs around me."

Danny's dignity wouldn't let Steve carry him like that on land, but out here the usual rules don't apply. So he obeys, gripping Steve's waist with his knees and bringing their bodies flush together. Now that his partner's powerful muscles are doing all the work, Danny can focus on the fun stuff.

He runs fingernails down Steve's back and smoothes his palm back up; he licks the water off Steve's neck, bites at his earlobe, and kisses his temple. Steve's face is tipped back, his eyes closed, and he's letting Danny take whatever he wants. Danny wants all of him, but the logistics of deep-water sex seem pretty tricky even for a SEAL.

"Hey, babe, let's go closer to the shore," he suggests. Danny's a little too tired to swim properly so he just does doggy-paddle. It's hilarious to see Steve, who could probably give Michael Phelps a swim for his money, follow suit at a lazy pace. They grin at each other as they slowly kick their way to shallower water.

They reach the point where Steve can touch the bottom; he makes to keep going further in so that Danny can too, but Danny stops him. If Steve's standing and Danny's suspended vertically, then their faces can be at the same level. It's rare that he can kiss Steve when they're upright, without getting a crick in his neck, so this is just perfect.

And Danny wouldn't admit it, but there is something kinda romantic about Steve being his only connection to solid ground.

So Steve plants his feet on the seabed and his hands on Danny's hips, holding him afloat. He tugs Danny closer until their cocks are aligned, effortlessly moving Danny's body around to maximize the delicious friction.

"Yeah, right there, that's good," Danny gasps. Even through the water and two layers of fabric, the pressure of Steve's erection against his is fantastic. They kiss again, wild and wet.

Danny has one arm wrapped around Steve's neck, keeping their faces close, and he's cupping Steve's ass with the other hand. He stretches his arm out as a test, and yes – from this angle, he could just reach.

He breaks away from Steve's mouth, and lays a trail of sucking kisses along his throat; Steve tilts his head to give him better access. Danny slides his hand under the waistband of Steve's shorts, running his nails down that firm curve. Steve shivers, but then goes still as Danny begins to explore the cleft of his ass.

Danny presses his face to Steve's shoulder, and presses his fingertips against Steve's hole. He rubs back and forth, teasing but not quite pushing inside. Steve's chest is heaving under Danny's cheek and his breath is loud in Danny's ear, but he's silent.

"I want to fuck you," Danny says, and feels Steve's whole body shudder. He withdraws his fingers, lifts his head, and kisses Steve hard. Then Steve pulls back, releases Danny's hips, and grabs his hands instead. Striding backwards through the water, he tows Danny towards the shore. Once they reach the shallows, they walk hand in hand.

***

Danny's intention is to head straight for the shower, with sex to follow once they're clean and dry. But Steve stops beside the large blanket neatly spread out on the sand.

"Want to stay out here instead?"

"I'm not really an exhibitionist," Danny says, "and anyway, the supplies are in the house."

"It's getting dark now – I doubt anyone could see us," Steve counters. Then he pulls a sachet of lube and a condom packet from the pocket of his trunks, and tosses them onto the blanket with faked nonchalance.

"Oh, so you planned this? Damn, I'm starting to see where the whole 'Smooth Dog' thing came from!"

Steve just looks at him, and it's clear from his 'please indulge my crazy whim' face that he really, really wants to have sex out here.

Danny stops, and thinks for a moment. Steve's right: in this rapidly fading light, nobody could see unless they were up on the hillside with night-vision equipment. And if Steve's place is under surveillance, then Danny will have bigger concerns than being caught fucking his male boss on a private beach.

So he lets go of his nerves and self-consciousness, shimmies out of his trunks, and lies down on the blanket; Steve strips off without hesitation, and covers Danny's body with his own. The evening is warm and still, so Danny doesn't feel cold. Having Steve draped over him is no hardship, though.

Despite all the newness of tonight, this is familiar – just the two of them, skin to skin. Steve lowers his mouth to Danny's, slow and sweet to start with, wet hand cupping his cheek. And that's so like the first time, their first kiss which happened just a few yards from here, that Danny has a weird sense of coming full circle. He wraps his arms around Steve to pull him closer, no water and little air between them now, and the kiss gets deeper and dirtier.

Danny pushes up off the blanket and Steve lets him roll them over. He straddles Steve, knees planted either side of his hips, and gazes down at him. The lights are still on up in the house, making Steve's wet skin glisten slightly. He looks ethereal, otherworldly, but he feels solid and sure.

Steve's reaching up to grab Danny and pull him down, but Danny wants to drive. So he takes Steve's wrists and pins them down, so his arms are outstretched either side of his body.

"Stay," he says. Steve goes taut and still, not even breathing, and Danny worries he's gone too far. But then the tension goes out of Steve's muscles, like he's willed himself to relax, and he exhales with a sigh.

"Yes, Danny," Steve murmurs.

And fuck, that quiet submission goes straight to Danny's cock. He and Steve haven't had much opportunity to explore the kinkier possibilities of their relationship. Danny hadn't planned this, but God, he wants it – and it looks like Steve wants it too.

Sitting astride this strongly-built, highly-trained man is one hell of a power rush. Danny well knows that he could never hold Steve down without his consent. Still, the level of trust implied in this situation is staggering. Steve is offering something Danny can't take by force.

So Danny treasures this gift, and takes his time. He's hard, of course he is, but the urgency has faded to a steady thrum of desire. This is about Steve, first and foremost.

He traces the curves and hollows of Steve's chest, skims down his sides, rakes a path across his stomach. The muscle is firm under his touch, hot despite the evaporating layer of water. He uses his mouth too, kissing, licking and sucking everywhere he can reach. All the while, Danny studiously ignores Steve's cock, hard and ready and almost touching his own.

Steve's eyes are tracking Danny's every move in the near darkness. He is non-verbal but very responsive, breathing hard and moaning under his breath when Danny hits a sensitive spot.

When Danny leans forward and tongue-fucks his navel, Steve's hands curl into fists. And when he walks his fingertips along the crease of Steve's thigh, only inches away from his cock, Steve inhales sharply and says, "Danny, touch me."

Danny smiles down at him, and doesn't move his hand any closer. "Hey now, who's in charge here? Be patient, babe – I'll get you there."

Steve sighs, but he doesn't argue and he doesn't move. His wrists are pinned only by Danny's will, and Steve's will to obey. And yeah, Danny already knew he had a dominant streak, but that sight is seriously blowing his mind.

Danny scoots back a little, looks up at Steve's face, and says, "Don't come."

Then he lowers his head and licks a long slow line, over Steve's balls and straight up his cock. When he gets to the tip, he sucks the salty pre-come into his mouth. Steve throws his head back and moans, a low and desperate sound. He flexes his wrists, as if testing the strength of his invisible restraints, and Danny's own restraint gives out.

He shifts off Steve, kneeling at his right side. He spends several minutes lavishing attention on the places he couldn't reach before: running his nails across Steve's scalp, nibbling his earlobe, biting at his nipples, sucking a bruise just under his collarbone, and drinking in the quiet involuntary noises that Steve keeps making.

Danny twists around, reaching to grab the lube and condom. He takes a few lingering moments to caress Steve's wrist; under his touch, the already fast pulse speeds up. Steve is seriously getting off on this, it seems, and Danny's glad that he's not the only one. Then Danny strokes his fingertips the length of Steve's right arm, from palm to shoulder, and turns so they're face to face again.

He cups Steve's cheek and asks, "How are you doing?" He thinks he's reading the signs right, but has to be certain before taking the next step.

"I'm good, Danny," Steve replies. His voice is raspy but his tone is firm, and Danny smiles at him.

He bends over Steve's face, close enough to feel the rapid exhalations against his skin, but doesn't kiss him. Instead, he licks a path along Steve's lower lip, from one corner of his mouth to the other. Steve's breath hitches, and he lifts his head to chase Danny's mouth when Danny pulls back. It's a small movement, but very telling, and so fucking hot that Danny can hardly bear it.

"Spread your legs," he orders, and Steve instantly obeys. "Yes, you're very good," Danny murmurs, voice warm with approval. He rewards him with a real kiss this time, deep and passionate, and Steve eagerly responds.

Danny bites Steve's lip, making him moan helplessly, then relinquishes his mouth and resettles himself between Steve's thighs. He gets his fingers slicked up, and now they're back to familiar territory again. He knows exactly what Steve likes – the sudden shock of two fingers inserted at once, followed by a slow stretch. Steve arches off the blanket, hissing with pain-pleasure, but no intelligible words come out.

He would normally go for Steve's prostate right about now, and maybe stroke or suck his cock at the same time, but he's already testing his partner's self-control enough. And yeah, call him a sappy romantic, but he wants the two of them to come together.

Danny adds a third finger and keeps fucking him open, gripping Steve's thigh with his other hand to keep them both grounded. Steve is panting and writhing, so Danny figures he's more than ready now. He's about to withdraw his fingers when he hears something he's never heard before: Steve, begging.

"Please, Danny, fuck me," he gasps. "Please."

And God, those imploring words do something to Danny; he feels overwhelmed by want, but there's more to it than that. He squeezes Steve's leg tight until the dizzying wave ebbs away.

"Yeah, okay," Danny breathes, pressing a kiss to Steve's hip, "since you asked so nicely. We can do that, sure."

Part of him wants to keep playing with Steve, to take him to the edge and back again and again. But Christ, Danny can't control himself for that long. So he carefully pulls his fingers out, and rolls the condom on. Steve raises his knees and tilts his hips up without being told, making room for him, and Danny slides home.

He's overwhelmed by the feeling of Steve's body, tight and hot around his cock, and by the sight of him all spread out and submissive under him. Trying not to come straight away, Danny turns his head to the side for a moment...but what he sees there is almost the hottest thing of all.

Steve's hands are still exactly where Danny placed them, clenched so tight that there could be fingernail marks in his palms for hours. Holy fuck, Danny thinks, and then he can't think at all.

God knows neither of them will last long, after all that build-up, so Danny doesn't waste any time. He sets a fast pace, hips working hard, and Steve matches him thrust for thrust. Steve is watching him, eyes glinting in the dim light, and he's biting at his lower lip in an effort to stay quiet.

"I want to hear you," Danny growls, and Steve shudders at the command. When Danny finds the right angle and hits his prostate, Steve makes a keening noise deep in his throat. Then he tips his head back, closes his eyes, and opens his mouth.

"Oh God, yeah, that's it, harder, fuck, give it to me..." The words are slurred and rushed, like Steve is drunk. Danny's never made Steve sound this way before, out of his mind with pleasure, and he can't hold out much longer.

He rests his weight on one elbow, and wraps his other hand around Steve's erection – the first time Danny's touched his cock all night. Steve cries out loudly, past the point of words now, and thrashes his head from side to side as Danny jacks him in time with his thrusts.

"Now, Steve. Let go, come for me now," he pants, so fucking close, and Steve arches his back and comes with a shout. Danny groans at the sight of Steve's come striping his belly and chest, gleaming white against his tanned skin. He thrusts once, twice more. Then his orgasm hits, and it's so powerful that he sees stars.

***

Once his head's cleared a little and his vision's stopped swimming, Danny pulls out, ties off the condom, and collapses next to Steve. Steve's just lying there, eyes closed, chest heaving. He looks wrecked and wiped-out. Damn, Danny thinks, I did that.

He reaches out to touch Steve's shoulder.

"You okay, babe?"

Steve looks at him, blinking. "Fuck," is all he says, and Danny knows what he means. That was seriously intense, and unbelievably good.

Wincing, Steve slowly unclenches his fists and flexes his fingers. But he still doesn't lift his wrists off the blanket, and Danny wonders if it's because his earlier order hasn't been countermanded. There's something about that possibility makes his heart clench.

Danny rolls up to a sitting position and reaches for his towel, which he uses to clean them both up. Then he lifts Steve's right arm into his lap, and gently massages from bicep to wrist to get the blood flowing again.

He traces over the deep indentations left by Steve's nails, tangible proof of submission, and lifts Steve's palm to his mouth to kiss those marks. Another wave of emotion hits him, but this time he recognizes it for what it is.

"Christ, I love you," Danny breathes. He's never said that to Steve, and maybe it's still too soon. But it's true, all the same.

Steve doesn't tense up, or pull away, or laugh. He just splays his fingers over Danny's cheek.

"Yeah," Steve replies quietly, "me too."

They just look at each other for a long moment, silently, before Danny moves across to give Steve's left arm the same treatment.

Then he lies back down, head over Steve's heart, and they look up at the stars together.
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Swim to me, let me enfold you