haolehothead | (no subject)

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- game: tabula rasa

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He's been working ever since he got the knee injury on stretching out muscles and ligaments around the thing to ensure it doesn't happen again. True, he lied his ass off to Helen about the how of it, but he doesn't like the idea of going back just to say 'and hey, happened again, more drugs?' Helen's been taking damn good care to make sure he's healing and Danny's not about to ignore stretches just because they get monotonous over time.

He's in a pair of orange board shorts alone and is in the shade just behind the hut. He figures once he's done, he'll take a quick dip to rinse the sweat off. Plus it'll make the damn puppy happy if they go in the water. He doesn't know exactly when it happened, but somehow, McGarrett converted the dog into a swimming idiot, too.

He's settling down precariously onto his shins, hands wedged behind his back as he inches further and further back, getting out a good stretch of his IT band in the thigh in order to try and loosen up some of the muscles and ligaments around the knee.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Danny breathes out when the stretch starts to radiate pain. "Too much."

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"Yeah, sure, fine," Steve replies, gradually sitting up in bed so he's not at risk of falling asleep, given how relaxed he is. He rakes fingers through his hair, shakes his head slightly, and then swings his legs over the side of the bed, standing up and heading into the kitchen.

"Are you sure you don't need any - " The rest of the question drops off completely as soon as he notices what Danny is wearing - or, more accurately, not wearing.

Danny's in the middle of sauteeing some veggies with the fish as the potatoes cook. He figures if they just bake them, that'll be good. "I told you that I'd do this," he notes mildly, not even bothering to turn around. "And I wasn't gonna do it around grease."

Steve just stares. Stares and swallows, his mouth suddenly going dry. He's not even sure how Danny can expect him to get through dinner dressed like that, but Steve'll be damned if he gives in this early. He sidles up behind Danny, along his side, glancing over his shoulder and down at the food, and pushes a quick kiss to the back of Danny's head. "Smells good," he murmurs, hovering inches away.

Danny grins at the kiss, leaning forward to get to the back burner (and pushing his ass out, consequentially) as he indulges in the kisses he gets. "It's your kind of meal. It's all healthy fish proteins and vegetables and no butter. How much do you love me right now, huh?" he challenges smugly.

"There are no words," Steve slowly replies, because frankly, there aren't, not when Danny's all but hanging out of that apron and every little shift of his hips is having a direct effect on the comfort level of his shorts. Thank God he's worn a looser pair, he thinks to himself, clearing his throat audibly and shifting to grab some plates to set the table.

Danny smiles over his shoulder when Steve gets to working. "You want wine or beer? I think we're running low on beer, so remind me next time we're near the Hub to stock up," he says, stirring the veggies with the spatula.

"Uh - " Steve glances up, then immediately averts his gaze. Bad idea, because now all he can think about is forgoing dinner altogether and hauling Danny off to have his way with him. Alcohol really isn't entering the picture at this moment, unless this fantasy also involves a significant buzz. "Wine's fine," he responds, clipped and short.

Danny's got to keep his mind on the food for now. Every time he moves, the apron brushes against everything, giving him just the faintest tease of friction. He clears his throat and leans over to grab the bottle of wine from a cupboard, bringing it to the table. When he's facing Steve, everything is covered and then some by the apron (chest to mid-thigh), it's when he turns around that Steve gets the show.

When Danny approaches him at the table, Steve fumbles and drops one of the forks on the floor, immediately crouching down to pick it up. He'd be furious at Danny with messing with him like this if he wasn't so ridiculously turned-on. He spends a short moment down by the floor, maybe a little longer than absolutely necessary, but he needs to keep his head clear, and when he rises again, he struggles to keep his gaze on Danny's face alone. "Thanks," he murmurs, reaching out to take the bottle from him.

Danny can't help a bemused grin at that, giving Steve a long look before leaning down to kiss him slowly. "Baby," he teases, but that's all he says before he heads to the couch to pick up his briefs and slide back into him, chuckling under his breath.

Steve almost breathes a sigh of relief, flashing Danny a sheepish look as he finishes setting the table, shrugging mostly to himself. "Dinner almost ready?"

Danny hitches into the briefs and unties the apron before he heads to the bedroom to put on a pair of tight cargo-shorts and a polo-shirt that might or might not belong to Steve. He comes back out to bend over and check on the food in the oven. "I think we're almost there. Almost."

"Good," Steve murmurs. That leaves just enough time for him to reach out and snag Danny from behind, arms sliding around his waist as he draws him back in against his chest, pushing a kiss against his ear. "Just a little longer."

Danny stumbles back into Steve's grasp, letting out a soft laugh as he turns in order to steal a kiss before forcing himself away. "What is this? I put on clothes and then you want to maul me? I see a serious issue with that, Steven, a serious issue."

"I'm not mauling," Steve insists, gently pinching the hem of Danny's borrowed shirt between two fingers. "Besides, if I'd touched you before, we would've had to enjoy dinner cold."

"Oh?" Danny exhales, a bit softly. "And the difference in touching me now, huh? What's that? Why is this so different, because I put on some of your clothes?" he asks, hand on the hips of the shorts to keep hiking them up.

"And because you're actually wearing clothes, period," Steve murmurs, hooking thumbs underneath the waistband of those shorts and using his grip to tug Danny in again. "It's a little easier for me to control myself when I don't have your ass peeking out at me."

"I'm gonna be so goddamn upset the day I can't make you crazy with just my ass," Danny sighs out as he leans in against Steve, navigating their feet so that he's not stepping on Steve so much as he's leaning close to him with a fond smile. "Should I put that in the vows? You promise to cherish and love my ass til death do us part?"

"Do you want it to be in the vows?" Steve teases, hand clamping down on Danny's hip and squeezing as he casts a cursory glance toward the status of their dinner. "It'd be the truth."

Danny lets out a laugh as he starts to assemble the dinner, leaning back to peck a kiss to Steve's cheek temporarily. "I think for the sake of my dignity, we're gonna go ahead and keep that one out." He brings the fish, potatoes, and vegetables to the table, uncorking the wine to pour generous helpings into each glass.

Steve takes a seat in the chair he normally sits in for these kinds of meals, drawing his plate a little closer to himself, his stomach growling audibly at the sight of the food after a long workout. "Danny, it looks fantastic," he replies, offering the other man a smile over the table.

"It looks healthy," he says, looking at the meal like that's something that's wrong with it, but hey, he can douse the potatoes and vegetables in butter and feel better. "You know what I miss? I miss pizza, Steve, you have no idea how much."

"What, you can't make that here? I can probably figure out how to make one," Steve muses out loud, dishing some veggies out onto his plate. "Just a matter of making the dough and then finding the topping you want. I'd even make it half-meat lover's for you, babe."

"It's not the same as ordering one from the local pizza place," he bemoans as he stares at the plate and twirls his fork over the fish to start breaking it apart into pieces. Still, what Steve is offering is too damn sweet. He carefully navigates the wine out of the way before leaning in and kissing the corner of his mouth, just the once.

"I know," Steve replies, and he knows nothing can ever take the place of real pizza, either, but he's damn near going to try to make it happen if only to put a smile on Danny's face. He'll take up making pizza professionally if that's what it takes.