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Danny gives Neil a bemused look, making a show of sticking the surfboard in the sand in what he thinks is a very Steve-esque way. "Babe," he replies, not looking at either Steve or Neil exactly when he says it, then approaches Steve, cupping his cheek and leaning in for a slow kiss. "And Steven, it's nice to see you too."

"Seriously," Danny says, glancing at Neil. "Look. He's jealous because I'm about to surf without him. Can I please get an official witness on this?"

"Hey, assholes, if you're not gonna share, keep that shit in the bedroom," I say with a smirk, full of shit, even though there is a part of me that's distantly jealous. Not of either one of them in particular. Seeing them together has a way of reminding me of what I don't have anymore.

Looking to Steve, I say, "Yeah, man. I surf. Wasn't a whole fuckin' lot else to do, 'round here, before I ended up with the bar."

He scrubs a hand over his face, leaning down to return the kiss with a small smile against Danny's mouth, fingers briefly brushing against his hip before Danny pulls back.

"Hey, see how far you get without me to stop you from dropping in on someone else's wave," he replies, tweaking Danny's hip gently before turning to Neil. "Thinking about getting into the board-making business. We don't have nearly enough of them down here, and wooden ones'll serve."

"Asshole," Danny mutters, seeing as that argument is not done and Danny would like to revisit how a wave can possibly be someone else's property. Hawaii rules are not logical rules and he hates the fact that there is a whole island of people who don't seem to think so. He knows that this is pushing his luck with Neil, but, hey, it's not like Neil's a stranger. He's allowed to hear this stuff. "The cake's inside, by the way, but I hope you realize I'm not singing for you."

"And you," Danny says, poking at Neil, "I'm a very sharing person. I share! I am kind and compassionate and I will give my shirt to a friend."

A slow grin stretching my face, I say to Steve, "Is it your birthday? I didn't know that." There's a lot I don't know about the guy, so it's not like anybody expected me to turn up with a fuckin' present.

Poking Danny back, I mutter, "You're not wearing a shirt."

"Rules have been in place forever, Danno. It's not my fault," Steve counters, shrugging both shoulders. Still, his expression quickly shifts into a small smile as he leans in, resting a hand between Danny's shoulderblades.

"You made me a cake?" he asks, before adding: "Yeah, it is. Kind of got so wrapped up in the earlier planning that it almost slipped my mind, too."

"I didn't just make you a cake, are you kidding?" Danny replies, acting affronted even though he can't keep his goddamn lips from quirking upwards with delight. "Neil, c'mon, shirt or no, you wanna come inside, join us for a little while? I made this whole thing and Mr. Universe over here hardly ever eats more than a slice before he starts worrying about fat cells."

"Long as I'm not encroachin' on some kinda... private celebration," I say, tongue peeking out between my teeth, biting back a grin at the way they look at each other. It'd be kind of disgusting if it weren't so cute.

"Well, I figured your job with Shari had to be paying off sooner or later," Steve answers, giving Danny a gentle nudge before he starts heading toward the hut, motioning for Neil to follow and then bending down to pet the puppy that bounds out to greet them.

"Tell you what. You can cut me the biggest slice."

"Is that all I'm good for, huh? I'm good for cake-baking, and if you make a single joke about me being the wife, there will be hell to pay, Steven," Danny warns, shooting a curious look at Neil for about a half a second as a thought comes to mind, but he dismisses it with a shake of his head. That's for Steve to decide, in the long run. "You heard the man," Danny says, taking out the grenade cake carefully and setting it on the counter. "First, biggest slice," he says, cutting the whole pin of the grenade off, swiping his finger through the frosting and sucking it off with a smirk as he hands over plate, fork, and cake to Steve.

They head inside and I have this moment of wondering what the fuck I'm getting myself into. I realize, within about five seconds, that I've hardly spent any time with the two of them, together. They've got this rhythm about them, and it'd be easy to feel like a third wheel.

But they're beckoning me to follow, so I do, pausing just long enough to pet the dog on the head, then choking out a laugh as I watch Danny suck icing off his finger.

"Danny, you're such a fuckin' mom, there's no way you're not the wife around here."

"Who's making any jokes? I'm not making any jokes," Steve insists, glancing down at the giant hand grenade cake with nothing short of amusement as Danny cuts off a piece from the top, serving it on a plate and handing it over to him. His smile briefly disappears in the wake of a blissful look when he licks some extra icing off the prongs of his fork, swaying happily.

"Buttercream," he murmurs, almost humming. "My favorite." He leans in, presses a kiss to Danny's temple and then cuts a section off his piece, shoveling it all in on one bite. "S'good," he manages, chewing slowly.

Danny's pretty easy. He loves hard and he loves fast, but he can't help the fact that when he does right by someone and gets a reward like that, there's just a moment -- this one little moment -- where he's caught off guard. Rachel used to be able to do it with a single look. "I'm glad you like it," he says, shaking his head to rid himself of the idiotic look on his face so he can focus on cutting up the rest of the cake. "Neil, what're you thinking? Grenade pin? The body? This cake is going to be used today, considering it's about the only birthday gift I actually thought of. You're hard to shop for," he accuses Steve.

I find myself just watching them. Watching the way they are with each other. To the point that I don't even hear the question that's asked of me.

"What? Oh, man. Whatever. Doesn't matter," I shrug, grinning crookedly at that stupid smile on Danny's face.

Steve's barely got the first bite swallowed before he's already sticking another forkful in his mouth, reaching up with his thumb to swipe a little extra icing off the corner of his mouth from where it didn't quite make it in.

"Gonna have 'nother piece," he declares, holding the plate up high and close to his face so he doesn't accidentally spill.

If Danny could be more disgusted, it doesn't actually show on his face. He's hit the maximum disgust level that Steve can elicit out of him. "Manners," he says, scathingly. "You neanderthal," he mutters under his breath, shaking his head. "We have company and suddenly you decide to show him how much you can shove in your mouth?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," I laugh, taking my piece from him and completely forgoing the fork. Instead, I scoop up some icing on my finger, grinning at them both as I lick it away.

"Whuh?" Steve glances over, swallowing visibly before his tongue darts out to catch some stray icing at the corner of his mouth.

"It's a compliment, Danny," he insists.

"You're being a rude asshole," Danny accuses, rolling his eyes before he grips Steve's chin hard enough to bruise, leaning in to suck some of the frosting off his lip. "You really think Neil wants to see the way you shovel down food when you like it? I mean, yes, I'm aware you don't have manners. But he's a guest."

"Unless you're showing off?" Danny says with a smirk. "It is your birthday. You wanna talk about that thing we talked about that one time?"

"Shut the fuck up, Danny. Since when the fuck does anybody gotta mind their fuckin' manners 'round me?" I laugh, rolling my eyes and then giving Steve a look.

"What thing?"

Edited 2012-03-22 02:33 (UTC)

Steve draws his lip into his mouth afterward, looking only minorly hurt by the accusation. But he turns on Danny with a similar look, one eyebrow rising the same way the corner of his mouth does.

"Yeah, Danny. What thing?"

Danny cuts his own slice, focused on eating for a while, swallowing hard as he looks at Steve. "Don't be an idiot, you know what thing," he says, heading for the kitchen to feed Zulu before grabbing some milk. "Neil, you busy tonight?"

"I dunno, man. Lemme check my fuckin' calendar," I say, trying to look innocent as I can, but failing pretty fucking spectacularly.

"Did you invite me in here to fuck both of you? On Steve's birthday? Danny, that's adorable," I say, and I'm fucking with him now, poking fun at him, but that doesn't make the idea of it any less appealing.

"Whoa, whoa, hang on a second," Steve murmurs, bringing his plate down a few inches but not completely releasing it from his grasp just yet as he walks over to Danny, leaning down to mutter.

"Yeah, okay, so we talked about that thing, but I thought it was gonna come with a little more planning involved, if we ever decided to do it."

Danny shoots Neil an incredulous look, wondering how they jumped to that already. He peers up to Steve, giving him a lazy look. "You want to talk about it now? We can ask Neil to go sit outside with the dog while we have our argument."

He slides his fingers up Steve's back slowly. "Besides, maybe it's more of a gift to you. After all, it's not like you have other experience in this area. Maybe my gift to you is...you know, this, if you want and he wants."