haolehothead | AU PLOT

Danny gets up in a hurry, wobbling slightly on his feet and trying to get steady. And because the universe hates him, Kono decides to check in on the commotion and just gapes. "Steve," Kono says evenly. "Where's Danny? Does he know about this?" And christ, but she sounds really cross.

"Oh jesus wept," Danny mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Not that anyone's gonna believe me, but I am Danny Williams."

The looks on Chin and Kono's faces would be hilarious if the situation wasn't all about backpedaling. Steve overhears Kono mutter something under her breath, and he can gather by the tone that she's just about ready to call them on their bullshit.

"It's true," he adds, pointing a thumb in Danny's direction. "It's really him."

"Yeah, real helpful, Steven," Danny bites out in incredulity at how Steve is amazing in tense situations, really incredible, and then he chokes and can only come up with 'it's really him'. Danny holds up his left hand, wiggling the fingers. "Okay, look. Ring. Steve's ring that he slipped on me in the middle of the night thinking he's some kind of goddamn ninja. I have one daughter, and Kono, you keep trying to teach me to surf, but doing it right before tsunamis? That's just cold."

Chin looks like he's getting halfway to believing, but Kono seems doubtful, yet.

"Oh for..."

Danny starts to strip. Which isn't the intention, but in order to show the scar from the bullet wound when he first met Steve, he needs to get the shirt loose and he undoes the top four buttons, shoving aside bra strap and shirt to show off the scar.

Which manages to get Kono on board.

"You couldn't wait the day to go home?" now Kono is joking, bemusedly, glancing Steve's way. "If I knew office sex was a thing, I'd be bringing in boyfriends."

"Cuz," Chin warns.

"You saw them," Kono protests. "Hey Danny," she goes on with a smirk. "How tall are you now?"

"Fuck everyone," Danny announces, shaking his head as he runs his thumb up the buttons to track which one he needs to do back up again. "So much."

Steve starts to get a little cautious when Danny starts to unbutton the blouse, holding out a hand and starting to assure him that maybe this isn't the best way to go about proving anything unless he wants to make everyone uncomfortable, and then it dawns on him, and Chin and Kono too, by the looks of things, and Kono is back to smirking and Chin still looks a little bewildered by the entire proceedings and Danny's pout looks even more adorable when a fuller pair of lips and Steve just grins, leaning back against his desk and crossing his arms.

"Now we've just got to find out how this happened to begin with. Danny's thinking some kind of casting, maybe he pissed off a person of power."

"Big surprise," Kono interjects, before clamming up immediately when Steve shoots her a look.

"Chin, you think you can dig up anything on some of our more recent cases? See if anyone fits the profile of being more likely to carry a kind of grudge that ends in, well - " He nods to Danny.

"On it," Chin replies, and promptly disappears. Steve figures he's probably grateful for the excuse to leave the room at this point.

Danny just glances sideways at Kono. "Can you brief my witness? I was supposed to do it for a case, but I have the feeling it's just not gonna go over so well if suddenly Danny Williams has a twin sister with a matching personality." He begs with his hands and eventually Kono relents.

Danny juts a thumb out, picking up the Camaro keys and letting the hair loose. "Me? Me, I'm gonna go beat up some perps and feel better about myself."

"You're gonna - " Steve starts, about to echo Danny's words when he feels the grin coming on, faster than he can even attempt to cover it up. Kono shakes her head and makes her exit - probably to avoid the crossfire, Steve realizes.

"And, um, how are you going to do that, babe, exactly?"

Steve is dangerously close to getting beat up himself. Danny clenches the keys in his hand tightly, a murderous look on his face. "Say that again," he challenges. Danny drops the keys on the desk and hovers precariously close to Steve, snaking a hand down into his pants and cupping his balls, threatening to squeeze, just hard enough to hurt. "How am I gonna beat down a perp? How about you tell me, Steve, with my hand there, you tell me. Huh? I gotta get some of this, this rage out."

Steve starts to move but Danny's already there, somehow crowding into his space with those impressive high heels on, slender wrist turning to slip a smaller, softer hand down the front of his pants, and his hips jerk as he grits his teeth, hissing quietly. "You sure it's rage you're trying to get out, Danno?"

Danny's just angry right now, angry at the implication that some more sex is gonna solve this, so he withdraws his hand and because he loves Steve, he does, because he loves him and his face, Danny punches for the gut using all his weight behind him, aware that Navy-Boy can take it.

It's a smaller fist but it packs almost as much punch, and Steve half-doubles, catching Danny's arm in his wrist as he recoils and spinning him around, pinning his arm behind his back and slinging his own arm across Danny's shoulders, breathing ragged against his ear. "I'm not mad only because I know you didn't mean it."

Danny curses and bends half-over, the pain radiating through his arm -- just like old times -- and he stomps on Steve's toe with a heel while muttering a, "Fuck you, McGarrett, and lemme go beat up a suspect instead of my husband, okay?"

Steve winces, and silently thanks the powers that be for steel-toed combat boots, but he still kisses the top of Danny's head just the same. "Go to the gym and pound on one of the punching bags, okay? Nothing that can hit back."

Danny settles, just long enough to yank his arm out of Steve's grip, turning and glaring at him. "Right now, I wanna just hit you so bad," he says. "Right in the face, I just wanna punch you," Danny says, shaking his head and bending down to yank off the shoes. "Kono!" he shouts. "I'm borrowing your gym clothes!"

She sends back a, "don't stretch them!" and Danny gives her the finger as he heads downstairs to go to the gym and change, not even able to put into words how annoyed he is.

Steve follows Danny as far as the door to his office, standing against the doorframe and frowning after him in the wake of high heels pounding against the floor and the slight scent of shampoo.

"Boss?" Kono tentatively prompts.

Steve sighs.

"I wish I knew."

Danny strips off the clothes in a hurry, putting on Kono's gym shorts which are too small by half, and the tank top over the bra, trying to avoid staring in the mirror because holy fuck, this is actually making him want to punch things, makes him want to scream and maybe cry just a little, but he doesn't need to tell that to anyone.

Nothing that can hit back. Danny's nostrils flare as he draws in a fast breath and stares at the punching bag, wrapping up his hands with tape instead of gloves, flexing his fingers and just letting loose with one-two combos and upper cuts.

He follows after a while. It's going to nag at him all day if he doesn't, and so far Chin hasn't come up with any leads to tie Danny's - well, transformation is the only word that springs to mind - to anything they've tackled recently.

"I'll keep looking," he promises, giving Steve the kind of look that says, don't you have somewhere else to be?

It's how Steve finds himself in the gym later, resting his hands on either side of the punching bag and holding it steady for Danny's hits, not saying anything to announce his presence. Just being there, standing firm, while Danny releases all of his frustration.

Danny notices when the bag stops swaying. He doesn't know how long it's been, just that he's sweating and it's pouring down in rivulets from hair through his whole body. He's barefoot and he's short and Kono's shorts and shirt are just a little too tight and Danny wants his clothes back. He wants his body back.

He lets out a growl of frustration and clubs at the bag, wrapping both hands around it and pressing his forehead to the fabric, breathing out raggedly and wanting something that can hit back.

Steve stays quiet for a few more moments as Danny's arms encircle the bag, grazing his fingertips, and he frowns in thought, looking down at the floor mats.

He only moves to reach for a pair of hand pads, strapping them onto his fingers, and holds his hands up, palms out towards Danny, offering him a more realistic target on which to vent.

Danny pries himself tiredly away from the bag. He brushes at his cheek with the back of a hand, sweat and just the slightest of tears there from the hopeless feeling he gets down in his very stomach. He retapes his hands and still doesn't go for the gloves, just stepping forward as aggressively as possible, wailing on the pads with each fist, like he's back in training and he has to do this to make up for his height.

"Sure you don't need the gloves?" Steve quietly suggests. It's not that he thinks Danny's fragile, but the bones in his hand are smaller than the ones he's normally used to, and given the way he's going all out on the pads, Steve's starting to get concerned about potential stress fractures.

Danny abandons the hits for a minute, palms flat and out, and he shoves at the pads instead, shoves and shoves until he's got Steve back up against the wall and his chest feels so hot and tight that he wonders if this is what a heart attack feels like. He swings for the face, trusting that Steve's gonna block it.

Steve does, especially when Danny pulls back and leads with his shoulder, clueing him in that the hit's coming higher to begin with, his forearm blocking the hand when his back hits the wall, brow knit with confusion as Danny pushes his way into his space. The sound of the velcro is almost deafening in the empty gym when he rips the pads off his hands, pressing his own way forward, looking down at Danny, almost silently challenging.

Danny can feel that white hot burning by his eyes now, a sign that it's not a heart attack and that he's just upset -- so upset. His breaths are ragged and he tears desperately at the tape on his hands, ripping it off before clasping Steve's cheeks with both hands and kissing him desperately, jumping up into his arms and trusting, this time, that Steve'll catch him.

He's almost about to open his mouth to ask Danny exactly what the hell is going on when he finds it occupied, instead. Danny's lips are hot, salty from a combination of sweat and tears, and Steve's arms slide around him, hoisting him up to eye level and turning, nudging him back up against the wall to use it for leverage as he kisses back - not aggressively, not overtly rough, but slow, almost longingly.

It's a different kind of sparring, but one that uses up every inch of Danny to keep alert and attentive. He wraps his arms tightly around Steve's neck and just loses himself in this for a second. He kisses Steve back the way they do not all the time, but when it means something. It's the way Danny kisses Steve when he wants to, without words, show how much he loves him.

Danny presses his tongue to his lower lip when he eases away, looking at Steve through half-lidded eyes. "I'm sorry I'm a hotheaded jackass," he says quietly.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject