haolehothead | (no subject)

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Danny's curious about whether the island has ever actually been kind without a healthy serving of cruelty dished alongside it. Today's one of those days. It's been a long day and he's not really expecting to be out as long as he is. By the time he gets home, he hopes that Steve isn't too pissed off. He'd talked to the Council, then a couple of IPD people, and then he'd swung by the new-and-(so not)improved clothes box for more professional wear, including some ties and jackets.

By the time he gets back to their home, he's too tired to even talk, let alone do anything else. He heads straight for the couch, grabbing Zulu to yank up alongside him so that when he sprawls face-down, the dog is right there alongside to offer whatever fuzzy support an animal of his age can. He gives a soft grunt when he hears footsteps approaching. "Steve, if that's you, I will marry you again if you rub the gargantuan knots out of my shoulders," he mumbles.

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"Oh, so, now, I'm getting buttered up with names," Danny murmurs, but he can't bring himself to mind. There's a pleasant buzzed feeling radiating under his skin and he lets it wash over him, bringing him a contented feeling he doesn't want to shake. "C'mon, babe, let's move to the bedroom."

"I did make dinner, babe," Steve murmurs, though he's willing to let himself be pulled along, smiling slowly as he takes Danny's hand in his, lacing their fingers together. "But I guess we can just keep it covered for now."

"Oh, well, if you made dinner," Danny says, stopping exactly where he is and twisting Steve's elbow so that he's leading him over to the dinner table instead of the bedroom. "I need to give you positive enforcement now that you're technically the stay-at-home wife."

"Funny," Steve murmurs, nudging Danny with said elbow as they stop short of the dinner table. "So, what, I'm going to sit here and watch you eat before I get to head back in there and get you out of that suit?"

Danny makes a face, poking at the food with a fork that he's leaned over to obtain. "You know," he points out mildly, "this is your own fault for being so damn thoughtful. Maybe if you'd just let me starve, we could be in the bedroom by now."

"Oh. Oh, okay, I get it," Steve murmurs, taking a seat, his legs crossed at the ankles. "So it's my fault for wanting to feed my husband. Is that what you're saying?"

"Well, if you wanted to get laid? Then, yeah," is all Danny says in reply, smirking broadly as he pokes at the food, eating quicker than he might do normally. If he does, though, that's for Steve to notice and point out.

Steve eats too, albeit a bit slower, trying to gauge Danny's response over whether he likes the actual dish versus the speed at which he's consuming everything. When he finishes, he waits for Danny to do the same before bringing their plates away from the table to start an abbreviated version of clean-up. "I didn't have any ulterior motives, you know," he says, over his shoulder.

"What, to making me dinner? I know you didn't, babe," Danny says easily, standing to bring his plates over and dispose of them. He leans in, pressing a hand to Steve's chest so he can brush a kiss against the corner of his lips. "It's really sweet, actually, that you didn't."

Steve swivels around, his hands still dripping from the dishes, to rest fingertips on Danny's waist, leaning in for a kiss directly placed to his mouth. "I'm proud of you," he says, while he lingers there, nosing along the angle of Danny's jaw. "Of everything you do here, for this island." It almost makes it feel more like a home for them.

Danny can't help it. As much as he's pissed off that his friend got taken away from him, he's grateful for the opportunity it gives him and it sends chills down his spine to hear Steve say that he's proud of him. He leans into the touch, sighing happily as he steals another kiss, then another, and then one more. "Yeah? How're you going to show me that?"

"You should go into our bedroom and I'll show you," Steve says, raising an eyebrow as he starts to hear the drip of sudden island rain storming against the roof of the hut, water pinging off the metal siding.

The storms are quick, never lasting much more than a few minutes, but cool things down immensely, and he moves to partly open a window, letting the air filter into the room.

Danny shakes his head, looking at Steve like he wants to ask something more, like 'what exactly are you going to do' or 'why am I listening to you?', but in the end, he decides to do exactly as Steve says, heading straight for the bedroom and not taking off a single piece of clothing. That's for Steve to do.

He'll follow, eventually, double-checking to make sure the dog has both food and water in his bowl first. By the time he walks into the room behind Danny, he winds his arms around him in a hug from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder, just enjoying the sensation of their bodies fit together for a moment.

Danny startles slightly, because he was expecting Steve to take a little more time than that, but it's natural for him to sink back now, smirking as he tips his head up against Steve's chin and lets the hair brush against the skin, there. "You like that I'm shorter than you," he accuses.

"Are you complaining?" Steve teases, nestling his cheek alongside Danny's as his other hand skims gently, moving across the broadest part of his chest, his fingers slipping through the gaps between buttons already straining to hold the shirt closed.

"Yeah, maybe a little bit of complaining," Danny murmurs as he settles back into Steve's body, laughing tiredly as Steve starts to get into his clothing. "You know, if you ruin this shirt, I will make you sew it back together," he murmurs. "There's only so many good clothes I can get from the box these days."

"You're going to ruin it if you keep wearing shirts that don't fit you in the chest," Steve corrects, withdrawing his hand in order to let his fingers pop open those first few buttons so he can smooth them over Danny's chest without barrier. He leans down and in, lips moving along the shell of Danny's ear in a playful nip.

"Congratulations, babe, you've graduated to not making any sense," Danny informs him with a shake of his head, sighing happily when Steve keeps touching him like that. "How is it that I'm the one who's going to ruin them when you're the one taking them apart?"

"The buttons are still intact, Danno, don't worry," Steve promises, slowly working each of the remaining ones open until his hand can freely roam over Danny's chest, brushing over light blonde fuzz of hair. "But I'm surprised you have any kind of range of motion with that fit."

"You know why I can't find shirts that fit," Danny protests with a soft mumble, turning so he can nuzzle his nose against Steve's neck, feeling a soft frisson of delight in the way it practically makes his whole skin shiver. "Anything that fits my stomach is too small for the top and I'd rather go tight than tent."

"I know why," Steve echoes, turning his head to catch Danny in a kiss, lips moving over his in a gentle brush of mouths. It's that barrel of a chest, the fact that anything that fits him in the waist is never going to fit the same way across his chest - but he wants to run his hands over all of it, gently peeling Danny's shirt back over his shoulders and down his arms.

Danny lets out a pleased groan, sliding his arms around Steve's neck when he turns just enough to get a proper kiss out of him. "Yeah?" he asks. "Because it's not to drive you crazy," he tells Steve. "Not everything is about you, babe, I hate to say it."

"Did I imply that it was for me?" Steve asks, pulling back just enough to catch Danny's eye with his, holding his gaze with a half-smile. "I mean, I'd like to think that, on some subconscious level, you make certain choices with me in mind."

"You're an egotistical maniac," Danny protests with a whine, kissing Steve hard enough to propel him back just enough to give a bit of space between them -- enough for Danny to start wiggling his way out of his pants. "Seriously. You're hot, I get it. It's why you strip so eagerly and so often."

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