haolehothead | AU PLOT

Steve, meanwhile, is only accustomed to about half of that list, but he has adjusted to sleeping with someone else in the bed on a fairly regular basis. It took a good number of months where Danny was on the other side on an everyday basis before the urge to leap out of bed in an attack position had subsided. All that aside now, he's been able to sleep fairly soundly, and most mornings, provided he and Danny haven't gone to bed angry, Danny tends to wake him up in this way.

A voice jogs him from sleep, and he shifts and stretches, hand coming down on a head of thick hair - thick, long hair, and the legs tangled with his have no hair on them, and he's feeling two very obvious additions in the wake of one subtraction, and he opens one eye, then jerks back, dazed and semi-awake.

"What the hell?"

"Freaking out, kneed in balls," Danny reminds Steve, mostly because he still assumes he's dreaming. There is no way this is actually real and he adjusts slightly, hooking both legs around Steve's one leg and curling in against his side like a koala bear. "S'nice dream, babe," Danny sighs. "Just let me go with it t'il I wake up."

"I'm not - I'm not freaking out," Steve starts, and there's only so much he can try to figure out right now, but the look on those unfamiliar features is very much a Danny look, and barring the obvious, there's nothing proving that this couldn't possibly be a big prank. "Danny?" he asks, just testing the theory, and sits up slightly, trying to clear the foggy feeling in his head.

"No, I'm some random stranger who crawled into bed with you and managed to put one past super-Navy-SEAL," Danny mutters sarcastically as he eases away and opens his eyes to look at Steve. Which is about when he backs up, smacks his forearm on the edge of the table, and realizes that he's awake.

He clambers to sit up, tightly grasping Steve's t-shirt on his frame and holding it tighter to his chest. "Shit," is all he says in a lost voice. He reaches up to try and tame what is now a frightening amount of hair and gives a hoarse whimper in the back of his throat.

Steve's fully sitting up in bed now, drawing his knees up to his chest and glancing above them, brow slightly furrowed, looking at Danny - and, well, everything attached to him-her, and then quickly averting his gaze and wondering if he should be even looking in the first place.

"You're Danny," he says slowly, "and you're a - and those are - "

"Girl? Tits?" Danny fills in the blanks for him, getting up and searching for something to wear -- maybe something Kono's left by accident -- and it's when his feet hit the floor (both hands holding onto the clothes to keep them from falling) that he realizes. "Mother of fuck, am I shorter?"

Steve doesn't move from his spot pressed back against the pillows, almost as if he's afraid to make too sudden a movement in case he accidentally bumps into him - her. "Looks like."

"Oh my god, are you traumatized by this? You? I'm the one who's all girlish, I'm the little...the little woman, the little wife, what the fuck do you have to be worried about?" Danny's voice is starting to rise through the octaves, hitting higher pitches than he's ever hit before as he swivels back onto the bed and shoves at Steve's shoulders.

Despite his confusion about the entire situation, he has to admit that Danny's ranting in a female voice is almost more amusing, especially when he's expecting a smaller foot to stomp in frustration at this point, and the shove to his shoulders doesn't even budge him, and Steve just looks up at Danny, struggling to keep a straight face. "You are if you're still wearing it."

Danny's face goes pale and blank. "Oh, shit," he says, panic now on his face because a simple touch to his finger says it's not there anymore. He starts digging around the sheets, ass in the air, burrowing around and hair under the blanket.

It's not there and so he shifts, legs draped over Steve's to hook as he reaches over the bed, hair falling forward and he sights it, just out of reach. He grapples for it, hooking it with his pinky and sliding it on his thumb to keep it from getting loose.

And he was afraid of this. One glance and Steve is already averting his gaze, eyes staring at a fixed point somewhere on the ceiling, tapping his fingertips on his kneecaps and trying to think about anything other than the fact that Danny's cute ass is staring him in the face right now.

Cute female ass.

"You find it?" he asks, still looking up.

Danny gets vertical again, shaking the hair back with a hand in a practiced motion that he usually does with the short hair. Now it just collects the rest and pushes it -- frizzy and untamed -- over his shoulder. He swivels and settles back, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Steve, tapping his fingers awkwardly on his thighs as he sits cross-legged, ring securely on his thumb. "Oh, fuck this," Danny sighs after a moment too long of awkwardness.

He slides down the bed and gets in front of Steve, bowing his head forward to start kissing down his chest like it's any other morning.

Steve's breath hitches, because, well, it does feel nice, really nice, but also kind of weird, and he stiffens, reaching a hand out to grab for Danny, only he doesn't know where to grab hold of Danny and so his fingers just kind of graze a soft, slender arm and then he taps him on the shoulder, completely pressed back against the pillows.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he murmurs, peering into a pair of blue eyes. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Danny settles back on his haunches and just stares at Steve blankly for a long minute. "What, you want a blowjob instead?" he asks, not really grasping what Steve is actually trying to say. "Or do you wanna fuck me?"

"No, that's not - " Steve starts, shaking his head, though he's not going to deny that the image of doing either with Danny is one that just shot right to stirring things up down below. "Are you sure you want to do this, you know, like this?"

Danny smirks and gets up to stand at the foot of the bed, peering over to check his reflection in the mirror and cupping the new breasts. "Still pretty stocky," he murmurs, stripping off the t-shirt and wiggling out of the shorts, giving it a onceover. "Fuck, stand up," he commands.

Steve's still very much trying not to look directly at the new curves, and he knows Danny's not going to let him hear the end of it unless he does exactly as he asks right now, so with a small sigh, he gives in, scooting to the side of the bed and standing up, unconsciously tugging up on his pajama pants and stretching, his back turned.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Danny growls and leans forward to yank on the hem of those pajama pants, tugging him closer and measuring the distance between them. It's practically another person and Danny lets out an indignant sound. "Fuck you, McGarrett," he whines. "Fuck you so hard."

Steve doesn't know whether to be amused or not, so he settles for just standing there in front of Danny, a very naked female Danny, tilting his head down a little more just to see the top of his head, hair long and curly and made even bigger by bedhead, and he keeps his arms at his sides, fingers curling in against his palms. "Sorry?" he manages softly.

Danny makes a tiny disgruntled noise and goes for Steve's left hand to bring it up to his lips, sucking in the ring finger and running his tongue in expert circles around the tattoo that literally marks Steve as his. Maybe he needs to up the ante. He sucks and laves and pays great attention to the tattoo.

Oh. Oh. That's, well, oh, and Steve's mouth falls open slightly as he draws in a shaky breath. The lips are softer, there's no stubble scraping against his hand when Danny turns his head, but the flick of his tongue is one Steve knows all too well by now. He can't not watch his finger disappear between the pouty lips, watch the ink darken under the wet of saliva, and he's half-hard in a matter of seconds.

Danny eases back and presses a soft kiss to the DW at Steve's finger, looking up and giving him a fond smile. "Baby," Danny murmurs, grabbing hold of his shoulders and having to haul himself up on the tips of his toes to do it, pushing him back to the bed. "What's the matter?"

Steve's head is swimming with all the thoughts currently going through it, but sprawled out on the bed, he finally gives himself permission to look, allows his gaze to descend over the shape of Danny's naked body, and swallows visibly, propping himself up on his elbows. "Nothing," he manages, fully aware he's rising to completely hard and that Danny can probably tell.

Danny just grins and crawls right on top of Steve's body, tugging at the pajama pants and sliding his ringed thumb over Steve's dick, sliding down to wrap the slightly smaller mouth around the head, hair brushing against Steve's bared skin in the meantime.

Steve barely swallows a gasp and loses balance altogether, arms slipping out from underneath him as his back hits the bed and he arches up toward Danny's hand and mouth, and God, he can feel the metal of the ring as it slides along the length of his dick and he groans again, a little louder, when Danny wraps his mouth around alongside, hair falling forward over his shoulders and hiding it from view. He reaches down with one hand, fingers tangling in the longer blonde strands, and pushes it back away from Danny's face to maintain the visual.

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