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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"Maybe I'd have appreciated it more if you told me they were dates," Danny mutters to himself as he runs his hands through his hair and fixes his clothes. He picks up the apron in order to fold it carefully, sliding it in a drawer when he's done.

He shakes his head, scoffing quietly. "Does it turn you on when I'm angry or something?"

Steve's pretty certain that even he didn't know they were dates at the time, but he keeps his mouth shut on that one, standing up and leaning against the table, arms loosely folded.

"I don't know." He shrugs briefly. "Kind of like it when you get authoritative. Forceful. Maybe not mean."

Danny glances at Steve over his shoulder and waits for him in the doorway. "You're so cliched," he sighs with a shake of his head. "Seriously, if I say jump, what're you gonna say, soldier?" he demands, making his voice go harder.

Steve's lips twist into a slow smile, his eyes sincere even as he opens his mouth to respond, gently. "I'd say how high," he breathes, adding 'sir' with a smirk.

"You're such a cliche," Danny crows with laughter as he shakes his head and wanders into the bedroom to strip off his shirt. "I thought you and I, I thought we talked about how you were supposed to take more control in the bedroom, though."

"I read somewhere that it's healthy to mix things up every once in a while," Steve calls back to him, reaching for his wine glass to finish off the contents before he follows Danny in, sitting at the foot of their bed and quietly, fondly observing.

Danny folds up his shirt before wandering around the foot of the bed and stands straight as he can. "On your feet, boy," Danny snaps, giving him a sharp look. "Don't you fucking slouch near me. Don't you even bring any of this shit in our bedroom? You wanna be a mess? Not with me."

Steve slowly gets to his feet, lifting a hand to swipe fingers across his own jaw, brushing over the corner of his mouth, hiding a grin of amusement. He hadn't exactly expected Danny to continue the whole thing, but if he's about to, he'll get no complaints on Steve's end. "No, sir," he mumbles.

"Hey! What is that, are you fucking laughing at this?" Danny shouts and maybe there's an edge of real anger in there. If this is what Steve gets off on, the fuck he's going to make Danny a laughingstock through it. "You want me to never touch you again, because I can arrange that, Princess!"

Steve shifts, settling his weight evenly on his feet, and if there's a brief twinkle in his eye, it doesn't reflect in the shape of his mouth when he glances straight ahead and shakes his head once. "Not laughing," he promises. "Definitely no laughing here."

"Get the fuck on the bed, on your hands and knees, and present that ass of yours," Danny instructs. "If you don't, I'm just gonna go find some hot guy on this island. I'm not even wearing a ring, it wouldn't even be hard."

Steve doesn't answer that part, either. If Danny wants a proper proposal, he'll use the ring in a proper proposal. Still, the comment makes him swallow, and not completely out of desire, and he moves to assume the position on the bed, steadying his weight on hands and knees. "Is this what you want?"

Danny leans in, gripping Steve's hair to wrench his head back so that he can press his lips up against his neck and speak. "You think I want to go off and fuck someone else? Huh? You think that I'm gonna leave you for someone with more experience who knows better positions?" his tone is even, unsympathetic, and completely blank of emotion.

Steve allows himself to be wrenched back with a hiss, but only so far, jaw clenching and relaxing as Danny pushes their heads together and mutters low in his ear. "I don't know," he replies, inhaling sharply. "You tell me."

"I think you wanna be possessive and act like a caveman and keep me here forever, locked away," Danny murmurs, nudging his fingers slowly up Steve's thighs. "Secret is? I'm okay with that."

"I wouldn't lock you away," Steve promises, and there's no need for him to disguise that layer of truth in this game they're playing. "But as far as keeping you is concerned, I won't deny I want that."

"I want it too," Danny breathes out slowly as he leans in to grab hold of Steve's wrists sharply, tempted by an idea that's come to him. "Babe, I wanna fuck you and I don't wanna prep you, but that's gonna hurt."

Steve won't deny that he's already turned on by the earlier display, and now Danny's proximity, the scent of him, the warm press of his shirtless upper half is only doing more to further that fact. "I can take it," he murmurs, shoving against Danny's grip on his wrists, testing it.

"Yeah," Danny exhales his laughter in a heavy exhalation of little 'chuffs' of air. "Yeah, I know you can." He shifts so that his palms are splayed on Steve's ass to keep it fully apart before he slips his way in. There's still a small amount of pre-cum, so it's not like it's completely dry, but it doesn't exactly match lube.

Steve's relaxed from the earlier massage, so it's probably not as bad as it could be, but he still groans at the stretch, the slow burn as Danny eases inside him, his head tipping forward, slumping down onto his forearms. "Oh, God," he breathes, widening the stance of his knees, spreading himself open.

"Don't complain," Danny orders sharply, gripping his hips tightly in order to help pull himself in and fuck Steve as hard as he can, growling out out small 'mine' and 'fuck' and 'Steve' cries amidst it all.

It does hurt, at first. Danny wasn't lying about that, and Steve grits his teeth, turning his cheek against his own closed fist, grunting in time with Danny's thrusts, but slowly, gradually, the pain eases, giving way to something else entirely each time Danny manages to hit that spot on each thrust of his hips, and Steve's groans change and rise in volume. "Yours," he murmurs, reaching back with one hand to grab hold of Danny's thigh, fingers digging in and squeezing. "God, Danny, don't stop."

"I won't," Danny guarantees, because he knows that much. He knows that Steve is his and he knows that he refuses to stop the pace that he's setting. "Come on, Steve, I want to hear you crying out, I want to hear you shouting my name. Do it. Do it, now."

Steve's groan rises in his throat, spilling from his lips in the sound of a rumbling sound, hips easing in time with Danny's movement. "Oh, Danny," he breathes, heat building low in the pit of his stomach. "Danny, Danny - fuck, Danny!"

Danny's thrusts aren't even close to kind by the time they wind around to the end. He pushes and thrusts and tries to make Steve cry out as loud as he possibly can. "You're all mine, goddamnit," he grits out through his teeth. "Mine, Steve, mine."