haolehothead | (no subject)

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- game: tabula rasa

(no subject)

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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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.

Danny finishes a couple more bites of food and though he's not stuffed, he's full enough. Fish and vegetables isn't his favorite, but he'll do a lot for Steve and this is just a small thing. He stands, hitching up the pants again to deliver the dish to the sink, leftovers to Zulu's bowl. "Hey, boy, c'mere if you want some food."

Steve smiles fondly at the sight of Danny tugging on the pants, leans back in his chair and reaches for his glass of wine, taking a few sips to savor the contents as he watches Danny scrape the leftover food into Zulu's bowl. "He's gonna start begging for it soon," he admits, tilting his head.

"Eh, if the worst he eats are greens, I think we'll be able to survive as owners and not get him taken away by the imaginary animal police," Danny says as he makes his way back to the table to join Steve, dragging his chair closer.

"True. I'm just surprised he hasn't graduated to begging for steak scraps," Steve admits, watching as the puppy dives into his food bowl with excitement, tail wagging as he eats.

Danny practically melts with fondness at the stupid move, practically wanting to coo. But he does not. No, he holds it in, because he is a man of dignity. "Look at our little idiot," he says with an idiotically happy tone. "Such a perfect little boy, huh? Huh?"

"One of these days he's going to figure out you're insulting him no matter how sweet you try to spin it," Steve replies, shooting a glance in Danny's direction, but he's grinning fondly as he claps a hand down on Danny's knee, squeezing.

Danny leans in closer to Steve, practically bending over with a fond and stupid look on his face as he presses a kiss to Steve's lips. "Why? It's just the same tone I take with you. My sweet, sweet idiot."

"Don't think that'll get you very far," Steve playfully warns, reaching up to cup Danny's jaw in his palm, fingers splayed across his face, but his mouth is still close, hovering inches away.

"Why?" Danny taunts with a smug little look on his face. "Are you saying I don't have the kind of oomph and pull when I use mean words in your direction? Cuz I think I do."

"You think so, huh?" Steve challenges, raising an eyebrow, reaching back to give Danny's hair a retaliating tug. "Maybe you should try it and see what happens."