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Entry tags:

@ au

[AU]

Danny's one downfall to staying in Steve's guest room is presenting itself at an alarming rate, at this point. And that's this: come his weekends with Grace? Now he's got a SEAL near him, being unpredictable and generally bad with kids. That and he's got beach access, so now Grace just wants to swim.

Danny has let her play on the beach, suntanned and hatted up, and once he's through, he heads up to the kitchen to grab a beer and give Steve a Talk about his expectations. "Okay, one," he says sharply, holding up a finger. "No guns around my daughter. No knives. No weapons in any fashion."

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"Okay, here's the deal. When Grace is done with her swimming, I'm taking her back to StepStan and Rachel because they have a curfew and I'm gonna get back and we're going to talk. Yes?" Danny verifies firmly. "No running away? Talking?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Steve murmurs, taking another sip of his beer, feet still firmly planted underneath the sand.

Danny just nods, and then nods again, and pushes out of the chair in order to go spend time with Gracie -- properly -- until the hour comes that he needs to take her home. He clutches hold of her hand possessively. "Come on, Monkey," he says, keeping the sadness out of his voice as he takes her back to Rachel.

He, meanwhile, is practically about to explode by the time he gets back to McGarrett's, lingering in the foyer like he's not sure whether he wants to go forward or not.

Steve finds ways to keep himself otherwise occupied, giving Danny the time he desperately needs with Grace, and then reappears just in time to say goodbye before she goes back to Rachel and Stan's.

In the time it takes for Danny to drop Grace off and then come back, Steve actually does pull out a gun or two, taking them apart and cleaning each part thoroughly before putting them back together. He's putting a clip back in right around the time he hears the front door open.

Danny wanders forward in time to see the guns and he practically has an apoplectic fit on the spot. "I was gone for twenty minutes. Twenty min...I swear to god, you couldn't go twenty minutes without going for your guns? Really? Really, McGarrett?"

Steve's expression vaguely resembles a deer caught in headlights as he discreetly thumbs the safety back on.

"It was longer than twenty minutes. Wasn't it? Right?"

"You're a grade A schmutz," Danny mutters as he pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to remember that this is a man that Danny actually wants in several ways, not least of which include intimacy and relationship. But then, given his marriage, he doesn't go for convenient and expected. "I'm going to bed."

"What happened to talking?" Steve asks, folding the guns up in a case and spinning the lock shut.

"Which was your idea, in case you forgot."

"Yeah, until I come back and find you fingering firearms," Danny says, exasperated. "Look, you say you want more than just screwing around, but let's be honest here. I'm a divorcee with a bad rep for relationships. You get me, you get Grace, and we have the whole work thing to deal with," he reminds Steve. "There are any number of ways this can go wrong."

"And there are any number of ways it doesn't have to," Steve replies, standing up from the couch and moving across the room to him.

"Look, either you want this or you don't. I'm not going to force you into anything. But if you don't, I don't want to end up feeling like I've got something contagious that you don't want to catch."

Danny rubs his palm over his face. "Christ, McGarrett," he exhales, because this is more than just a snap decision for him. "Five-O, it's a good thing. Right? And I'm being selfish because god, some days I want you so bad my whole body is practically vibrating with a need for you. So, what happens if we fuck it up and Chin and Kono lose out? How do I live with that?"

"It is a good thing," Steve agrees. "If it hadn't been for Five-O, I'd just be a guy on a revenge kick for my father's death. Probably would've killed Hesse if I'd been the one who had got to him first."

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"If you think it's worth the risk - "

"Look," Danny breathes out, because he's got an out. "If things go south, here's what we do." He's not a genius, but he's good at plans. Plans, he can do. "If we fuck up, I transfer back to HPD. Deal?"

"You're assuming that's if I let you transfer," Steve interjects, biting the inside of his cheek to hide a smirk.

"If we fuck this up?" Danny says, gesturing rapidly between the two of them, "if we manage to screw it up and things get really horrifying, and I'm serious, it will be a shitshow of terror, just ask Rachel, you will be pushing me out the door to HPD."

"There are a lot of ifs in that equation," Steve murmurs, taking another step in Danny's direction, closing in on him.

Danny doesn't move a single inch, practically welcoming Steve on. "Yeah, well, maybe I'm a hypothetical kinda guy, maybe I'm that," he says, his breath hitching slightly. "We're not done talking," he warns.

"We're not done talking," Steve murmurs, fingers tipping up underneath Danny's chin, swiping a thumb along the stubble on his jaw.

"Absolutely."

"Oh, Jesus, you unhinge me," Danny breathes out in a hiss, practically mauling Steve with his lips, hands clasping onto his hips possessively and firmly, dragging hard and trying to walk him back against a hard surface.

Steve knows the layout of the house a little better, and so when Danny maneuvers them with every intention of using the closest wall as leverage, he allows himself to be moved, all the while deliberately steering in reverse so that he doesn't get run into a table or sharp edge, and when his back eventually does nudge up against the wall.

The kiss deepens quickly as he responds to Danny's mouth, fingers sliding up into his hair, palm cupping the back of his head.

Danny's pretty sure he locked up behind himself. Which is good, because he doesn't give a shit at this point. All he really cares about is exploring Steve's whole palate with his tongue, getting in there while his fingers fumble to undo Steve's pants.

"Danny," Steve breathes, gripping at his hair and tugging slightly, sliding his arms around him to pull him closer still.

Yeah. Yeah, Steve isn't allowed to ever say his name like that again without expecting consequences, namely like Danny shoving his hand into Steve's underwear, gripping his cock hard as he can. They're back to where they were the other night and this time, Danny doesn't plan to let go.

Steve's very fortunate he's leaning against the wall by this point, because if it wasn't for the support, his knees would've likely buckled at this point. Just the same, his head knocks back into the wall and his fingers grip Danny's hair a little harder in response as his hips surge forward, almost of their own volition.

Danny lets out a hiss at the friction and the hair-tugging. "McGarrett, bad knee," he reminds him sharply, giving him a rap on the hip to try and dissuade him from too much knee-buckling, here. He strokes hard and fast, palm working hard to bring Steve off for the first time in a very long evening, if he gets his way.

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