haolehothead | AU PLOT

Danny leans and shifts up in a hurry, cupping Steve's cheek with a firm hand and slowly parting his lips to kiss a little deeper, curling up into his frame as best as Danny's new smaller frame allows. He ignores whatever little voice is crowing on about being a good little wife and thinks about practical shit instead.

Like clothes and explanations and breakfast. He could really use some breakfast.

He runs his hand down the blonde curls and over the curve of Danny's back, his other hand still cupping the smaller cheek, thumb smoothing over a slightly more defined cheekbone. It doesn't take any energy at all for him to roll them over, not with Danny as light as he currently is, and he kisses down his throat once he does, sliding a thigh between his legs.

Danny lets out a small squeak of surprise when he gets rolled over, but it's superseded by a long moan at Steve's thigh in exactly the right place. Danny shifts just enough so that Steve is well aware of how wet Danny is down there, which is a whole brand new interesting experience. "What are we gonna," he pants out, "tell Kono?"

Steve lifts his head from its current position between Danny's breasts, dragging his lower lip along the swell of one before he gives him a look. "You're thinking about Kono right now?"

"I'm thinking about a lot right now, gimme some credit, I woke up a chick," Danny protests with a wild little sound. "I mean. I mean, is the puppy gonna know me?" He's just giving Steve a tiny insight into how many disturbing thoughts are in his head right now. "And do we even have condoms anymore?"

"We'll cross that bridge," Steve murmurs, between kisses, nose nuzzling along the underside of Danny's breast, "when we come to it." He draws a nipple into his mouth, sucking, then releases it with a wet pop to answer the last question. "Think there's a couple in the nightstand still."

Danny has been whimpering non-stop for a little while now, absolutely undone and giving small groans as his hips slide upwards, searching in a hurry to grab one, tearing it open and sliding it on Steve without waiting. "For someone who wasn't into this," he goes on breathlessly, "you sure changed your tune."

He grabs at Steve's hips, angling him and spreading his thighs to beckon him in.

"You made it pretty difficult to say no," Steve hisses, hips trembling when Danny rolls the condom on for him, the anticipation almost killing him. "Impossible, even."

His hands fall to Danny's waist, angling their bodies up right, his hands almost so big as to eclipse Danny's hips completely when they settle on them, and there's a little fumbling but then just the right push, and he sinks in slowly, buried deep on the first try, throwing his head back to moan Danny's name.

"Oh, fuck, yes," Danny cries out, hips stuttering forward as she moans desperately, a little rapid and rampant in trying to pull Steve deeper in. "Missionary, huh?" he can't help joking with a smirk.

Steve arches forward, fingers tangling in the hair at the back of Danny's head, using his grip to pull his head back to a tilting so he can run his tongue along that pale curve of neck, breathing rough. "You complaining?"

Danny shakes his head and the hair goes flying in every which direction before he submits to Steve's tongue. He's always been loud, that's not a thing. What is a thing is that now it comes out in choked little whimpers, girlish sounds, and then guttural groans. "Oh god, Steve. Steve, babe, oh god," again and again, interspersed with loud shrieks of pleasure as Steve pushes in and Danny forces him deeper.

"Baby, come on," Danny begs, digging his nails into Steve's forearm. "Harder, fuck me harder," he growls a command.

Those nails are a little longer, and the brief pinpricks of pain act as the kind of spur Danny wants to get him to go faster. Steve won't deny he's treading lightly at first, afraid of hurting Danny in this smaller body, but he wants more, wants it bad from the sound of things, and Steve's more than prepared to rise to the challenge.

He reaches down, one hand sliding underneath Danny's leg and hitching it up to change the angle, groaning against his neck before wrapping his lips around a breast again.

Everything starts to go hazy and white. And holy shit, but it's just about enough that Danny is about to pass out from sex and that is something Steve would never let him live down, so he hangs up, hips rocking hard against the bed and then back up in disconnected flailing, desperate to get more with every moan and gasp. "Oh god," Danny gasps, in a little hiccup when the haze comes back. "Iloveyou," he gets out, words rushed together.

It's just like Danny, to go from dirty talk to this, and Steve can barely smile, but somehow he manages one anyway, a thin, fond one against the curve of Danny's breast, rocking back and forth in a slow, deep rhythm, and then he sits up, sits back, pulls Danny up and hoists him into his lap, coaxing his shorter, smoother legs around his waist and letting him ride on top of him, fingers sliding through his hair.

Danny lets out a jibbered mess of a sound, wrapping his legs around Steve's waist so tight that if he applies pressure, he's gonna start worrying about Steve's organs. "Oh my fucking god, Steve," Danny moans wildly. "I'm gonna, you, and I'm. So if you..." He babbles, not sure what he's saying, but knows that he's thinking 'if you want to be extra safe, get off'.

"You first," Steve challenges, hands sliding underneath Danny's thighs to assist in the motion, kissing along the slope of his jaw, the patch of skin underneath his earlobe, and then down, over the slender shoulder and clavicle. "I can hold on until you do, babe."

Danny whimpers again when Steve does that thing where he's so incredibly amazing and perfect and Danny is so fucking fond of that man it is ridiculous. He tightens his legs' grip and bows his forehead to press against Steve's shoulder, riding out the pressure from a different angle, letting out a mewl of a cry as he comes and collapses in Steve's lap.

Steve's hovering on the edge, but he closes his eyes, willing his body to hold, and brushes the curtain of long hair back over Danny's shoulder, kissing the bare skin, his hands smoothing down his back. "Love you too," he whispers, biting the inside of his cheek. "Here, let me - I gotta - "

Danny knows that they ought to be careful just in case this place gets funny ideas and so he summons up whatever lazy energy is left and unwraps himself from Steve, sliding in alongside him lazily and reaching down with a warm palm to coax him to the end. "Hey," Danny exhales. "What are you waiting for, huh? An engraved invitation?"

Steve just groans and leans in to kiss him again, roughly, tongue slipping into his mouth. One touch from Danny is all he needs, two or three strokes and he's finished off completely, a shiver rippling through his frame from head to foot, and he slumps back against the bed, slinging one arm over his eyes, groaning low. "God, I just can't say no to you, ever."

Danny grins broadly, feeling a lot more energetic after sex than he usually does, so he's gonna attribute that to the new body. "I live happy because of that," he guarantees, wiggling over and curling up to Steve with a fond sound as he reaches for a pair of Steve's boxer-briefs, sliding into them.

He heads to the drawers and fishes out Steve's Hawaii football jersey, shimmying into that and letting it fall to his knees as he opens the bedroom door to whistle. "Zulu! Here boy! Here puppy!"

Steve, meanwhile, is going to need a little more time to bounce back so quickly, but he tugs the sheet over himself, propping a pillow up underneath his head, and watches Danny with a fond expression, a smile pulling at the edges of his mouth when he slides into Steve's old jersey.

He whistles low, through his teeth, flashing a grin when Danny inevitably looks his way. "Looking good enough to tackle, Williams."

Danny just winks back at Steve, a smug look on his face as he crouches down to wrap his arms around the eager puppy -- whining as always -- and picking him up in his arms. "Yeah?" he replies, a bit cocky. "Maybe you oughta get me one of these, write my name on the back, and I might wear it more often."

Steve's eyebrow goes up at the idea, and he nods, watching as the puppy wriggles a little before settling comfortably in Danny's arms, burying his nose against the sleeve of the jersey. "I'll look into it. And hey, look - and to think you were worried he wouldn't recognize you."

"Steve," Danny deadpans. "You've just come all over me by proximity and I'm wearing your clothes. He smells you, babe," he points out, but Danny takes it as a mild victory, smoothing a palm over the fur at his head and depositing him on the bed so he can greet Steve and Danny can start actually dressing for the day.

He heads into the drawers and fishes out a white dress-shirt that's shrunk in the wash, a black tie, and one of Kono's skirts. It's not that Danny's first choice is the skirt, but it's the fact that pants just aren't gonna work. And thank the Lord there's stockings, because Danny had lived with Rachel for too long and knows that women who go bare under are kind of whores -- apparently.

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