haolehothead | (no subject)

It's been one hell of a long day and a half. Danny's been retracing his steps for so long that he feels like this ought to have a case file, but he's found out just enough information to know that he'd acted like a real jackass the day before and somehow, he got the idea to chop the hell out of his hair. He's been left with a shaved head the likes he hasn't had since his early twenties and while it's not the end of the world, it's one of those things that he would've at least liked to do when he was aware he was doing it.

When he made sure Savannah was settled away, Danny headed back for the house, grabbing a bottle of wine from the Hub as he went, a blanket, and a bunch of cookies from the bakery, making a spot on the beach with the dog. He's watching the tide come in, trying to eat and drink away the day while he ignores the real regret -- a part of him, after all, just wanted to spend a quiet evening in with Steve, but somehow that never happened. He still doesn't even know how that's possible.

He rubs a hand over his head again, getting used to the lack of hair. It'll grow back brighter, bleached by the sun, and in about six weeks no less (given that it's mostly gel that does the trick). Until then, he's probably going to develop the bad habit of rubbing it, more than a little.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Then lay down already," Steve mutters, sitting back on his heels and delivering a sound smack to the back of Danny's thigh. He's not going to do anything that's going to make Danny hurt himself, but he'll be damned if he's going to get derailed now.

Danny turns around and forcibly smacks at Steve's head to get him to quit for just a second, crouching over to haul his pants back up. "I'm going to bed. You're coming with me, and you're gonna draw the tattoo before you're allowed anything else."

"And how am I supposed to draw this now, exactly? Any pen will just wash off," Steve replies, slowly rising to his feet again. "You're gonna want me to do this on a piece of paper before I transfer anything to skin."

"So draw it on paper," Danny says, shucking his pants off and crawling naked into bed, leaning his weight on his elbow as he looks over Steve. "Come here," he summons, tapping his hip. "Come here and draw it on paper right on top of my skin, see how it looks."

"I don't think you realize what a difficult time I'm going to have trying to concentrate on keeping a steady hand," Steve says, drawing in a shallow breath at the sight in front of him. "Do you?"

Danny smirks, shifting onto his stomach so Steve's got a prime view of his ass. "So, the hair really isn't doing much to kill your libido, huh? I guess you really were telling the truth when you swore to love me in sickness or health, weren't you?"

"What, did you think I was being less than truthful on that front?" Steve asks, shucking off his own pants before he crawls out across the bed, stretching out over Danny and tucking his chin down to press a kiss to the top of one shoulder, his palm spanning his ribs.

"Hey," Danny murmurs, a bit roughly. "What'd I just say about you doing that to me after you do a sketch, huh, babe?" he demands, wiggling his body into Steve's touch, regardless of any demands.

"Can't help it," Steve murmurs, covering Danny in his weight, his hand stroking along Danny's side as his lips start a trail down the curve of his spine. "You look good right now."

"I'm starting to think I should have shaved my head earlier," Danny murmurs into the pillow, a smirk on his face when he realizes what he ought to do to really screw with Steve's head. "Maybe I should find a Navy uniform; dress up like an officer, see if that gets you going."

"Is that what you're thinking?" Steve asks, nose nudging against the small of Danny's back as he resumes his position from earlier, only in a horizontal manner. "Where do you think you're going to find yourself some dress whites?"

"I'm pretty sure I could bribe it out of the clothes box, somehow," Danny says knowingly, sighing happily when he feels Steve's nose nudge against his body. "I could surprise you someday when you're least expecting it. Out of nowhere, Officer Williams."

"You could try," Steve counters, pushing the bedcovers out of the way to get comfortable on his stomach, his thumbs smoothing over Danny's as while he kneads. "Officer Williams?"

"Hey, technically, I was Officer Williams for like, seven years," he points out, since he did his time in vice, then on the streets, and in whatever capacity he had to before he got the desk job and passed his detective's exam. "And I was good at it."

"And so what would you do now, Officer Williams?" Steve asks, nipping his way back up Danny's spine to breathe against the shell of his ear, fitting the front of his hips right up against Danny's ass. "How would you handle what is so clearly a civilian coming on to you?"

"You're never gonna just be a civilian," Danny points out, hissing out as his dick twitches with interest at where Steve is pushing against him. "God, damn it, Steven, would you do something already?"

"Damn straight," Steve growls, his own dick straining against his boxer briefs at the friction the movement of his hips is creating. "Why? What do you want? Tell me what you want me to do to you, babe."

"I want you to do something, you neanderthal animal," Danny spits out, working his way up to actual frustrated anger that needs an outlet. "Or I'm gonna walk out of here and find someone else to do it," he says, his voice high-strung and getting tighter by the minute.

"You know how much I've always loved your sweet talk," Steve whispers, rolling Danny over slowly to pin him down against the bed before he starts working his way down all over again, swallowing Danny's dick down before he can get another word in edgewise.

"I swear," Danny says, pinning Steve with a firm glare. "I swear, I swear, Steven, I will go and find someone who really wants to screw me if you don't--" He's cut off by Steve actually doing something, making Danny choke out a desperate-sounding cry of pleasure.

"What, and you think I wouldn't want to screw you?" Steve murmurs, pulling away briefly as he lets his hand take over, sliding around the base of Danny's dick to stroke smoothly, squeezing firm. "What makes you think that, Danno?" He's breathing hot over the shaft, tongue flicking out to swirl slowly around the tip.

"Sometimes, you seem like your mind's elsewhere," he mumbles, but he's quickly approaching a complete lack of coherency, so he focuses on pushing his hips forward into Steve's hand, choking back a desperate whimper as he did.

"Does it?" Steve murmurs, giving Danny's dick a small squeeze as his tongue laves along the underside, slicking it for his hand to pump smoothly. "What about now? Does it seem like my mind's elsewhere now?"

"No," Danny exhales, a bit lightheaded at this point. "No, babe, no, it seems like your mind's exactly where it belongs." He grips at the sheets on the bed, starting to sweat, giving his face a sheen.