haolehothead: (ride a cowboy: by brad)
There's a couple of nice things that Danny appreciates about the world suddenly turning to desert and dust. For one, he gets to sleep without the sound of waves keeping him until the early hours of the morning. Plus, he gets to wear some amazing clothes and he's got a gun on him. He's just grateful to be practicing his accuracy once more, seeing as it's been a while and he'd started to get worried.

As it stands, he's working on putting together dinner for when Steve gets home -- just a simple vegetable stew and some beef that he's picked up from the Compound since there is no way in hell that he's looking a gift cow in the mouth, so to speak. With the heat rising from his small stove, he inches towards the door, kicking it open to let some of the steam out, giving Zulu a warning look as he pokes a wooden spoon in the dog's direction. "You even think about running and I'm letting Steve take you for a five-miler."
haolehothead: (nonsense: by ?)
As far as cake-baking attempts go, Danny's not the master. Sure, he can do a simple birthday cake, but Steve's? No, he'd needed the big guns for that, which is why he'd showed up to work on one of his days off. The result is worth it -- it's so worth it. He's got a grenade cake, made of chocolate and buttercreme wrapped up. It's only a week into the marriage, but Danny feels like not getting the right gift is pretty much a great way of starting off a marriage in a difficult way.

When he gets back, he makes sure it's tucked away in the ice box. When that's done, he strips down to his shorts and grabs his surfboard, waiting outside for Steve to get back. A surf, a swim, and a cake -- he figures if that's not what Steve wants (outside of some breakfast), then he's just out of luck.

March 7th

Mar. 4th, 2012 10:53 am
haolehothead: (sunny days: by ?)
Danny feels ridiculous. Genuinely and truly, he doesn't know that he's ever felt like more of a schmuck in his entire life, feeling as nervous as he does. He's in the main room of the hut, watching sports like something might actually change in the outcome of his Best Of DVDs if he just watches hard enough. Nothing does change.

Still, he stays nervous and he feels like he's about to do something that could simultaneously be the best and the worst thing that he's ever done in his entire life -- and it's tomorrow. He's getting hitched with Steve tomorrow. He's got his clothes hung up over the doorway, he's got a speech in mind for the reception, and he's even doing fairly okay with not having Grace there. He just can't shake the goddamn nerves.

"Shit," he mutters, getting up to get some air, leaving the door open before he returns to the best of the NHL, circa 2008. He's supposed to be calm about this. It's Steve. It's his best friend, it's the guy he's been with for over a year -- almost to the day, even -- and friends with for over a year before that.

Maybe the solution here is some booze, but Danny doesn't want to be that tragic kind of guy who does it all alone.


haolehothead: (Default)
Danny Williams

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