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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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"But it gets itchy," Steve protests, tucking his face in against Danny's neck, pressing a sucking kiss to the skin there while he's at it. "I am going to have to cut it sooner or later."

"Nope," Danny informs him with a smirk, breathing a little shakier with those kisses. "Husband, now, I get to tell you when you can and can't cut your hair. And, I'm sorry to inform you, Steven, but you have not been given the proper clearance to cut it."

"Proper clearance," Steve snorts, hiding a laugh against the line of Danny's throat before he lifts his head. "You're gonna tell me, huh?" His eyes flash with heat, and he rolls his hips forward, pinning Danny to the bed that way. "What else are you gonna tell me to do?"

"I'm gonna tell you," Danny retorts, all bluster and bluff, aware that Steve could have his way with Danny with a couple well-placed touches, kisses, and the right words. "Right now, I'm gonna tell you that you ought to fuck me," he breathes out. "All that practice riding horses, how about you ride me?"

It takes only a beat for that to sink in before Steve's eyes flash with marked interest. "Gonna kill me," he breathes, sitting back on his heels, his hands only briefly fumbling before he gets a better grip on the button to his pants and pops it open with a thumb.

"That's the plan, fifty years from now," Danny agrees, a little breathless and eager at the fact that Steve's getting ready for him so quickly that it makes him want to cry with relief. "Lube?" He's not sure where it went, but he does know they're going to need it.

"Got it," Steve breathes, leaning forward and shoving a hand inside the top drawer of the dresser at their bedside, fingers rummaging around until he finds what he's looking for. "Fifty years from now? And not now, when you're ordering me to fuck you?" His eyes flash again, and he reaches down, laces fingers through Danny's.

"Mm, gotta keep you on your toes," Danny mumbles, the words lazy as he pushes them out of his mouth, not bothering to enunciate because he just doesn't give a damn to do so. He squeezes Steve's hand tightly, a fond grin on his face. "And I get to order you around for years and years."

He's not willing to admit how much pleasure he derives just from hearing Danny say those words, but his free hand stumbles over doing something that should be easy by now, finishing up with the bottle and tossing it aside as he nudges his hips against Danny's. "That long, huh?"

"So long," Danny breathes out teasingly, his eyes falling shut in buzzed anticipation, his skin practically singing with it. "God," he murmurs, licking his lips. "I want you to do it so hard that I feel it all week, babe, like that."

"Yeah?" Steve's breath is hot, his mouth moving across his in a wanting slide as his hips tilt similarly and he pushes into Danny in one smooth movement. "Let's see if we can make that a reality for you, babe," he adds, gritting out the words.

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