haolehothead | (no subject)

Entry tags:

- game: tabula rasa

(no subject)

Danny's not entirely sure what he'd been expecting when he signed up for the marine biology course. First of all, it is way more packed to the brim than expected. Second of all, what the hell is Steve doing wearing GQ clothes and his glasses to talk about the whales and the dolphins and whatever the hell else they're supposed to cover? With a ratio of about ninety-percent women in the class, Danny's getting a real Indiana Jones vibe from the whole thing. He would not be surprised in the least if some of these girls have 'screw me' written on their eyelids.

Danny is not here to flirt. He is not there to be jealous (though that kind of happened against his will). He's there to learn. He keeps his head down all lesson and scribbles notes down, trying to learn as best as he can. He's got an apple on his desk for the end of class, but Danny's still not sure how long he's going to linger after if he wants to get dinner for the both of them on the table at a reasonable hour.

He does wait until everyone else filters out of the classroom -- taking his time in collecting his things, organizing his books, and straightening up his clothes (it's a class, so he's wearing a casual white t-shirt and an undone blue button-down over jeans). When the last of the buxom young women leave, Danny reclines back in his chair with his hands behind his head, and smirks at Steve.

"Well, well, Professor McGarrett. You have a real charm with the ladies."

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"What? They're all legal and some people are paranoid about their significant others," Danny dismisses Steve's excuses like he's swatting flies. "This place's age of consent is sixteen and buck-o, they all look well past that. I'm just saying," he says, gesturing expansively. "That if I were a suspicious man and you were more of a douchebag, I would be worried."

"But you're not worried, are you?" Steve replies, turning it into less of a question by the end of it as he leans forward, bracing his hands on the desk on either side of Danny, palms resting flat by his hips while he hovers over him, eyeing him up-close with the glasses still perched on his nose. "Didn't think so."

Danny mock-sighs, as though he's concerned. He reaches up to take hold of Steve's glasses and, treating them with careful adoration, sliding them to the top of Steve's head so when he leans up to kiss him, he doesn't bruise his nose against the bridge of the glasses. "I worry, a little," he admits.

"What, do I need to do something to reassure you, babe?" Steve asks, almost pretending to pout with disappointment. He braces a hand on the top of Danny's thigh, squeezing once above his bad knee. "I'd suck you off right here on the desk if I thought it'd erase all traces of my potential infidelity from that head of yours."

Danny's eyes bug out as he glares at Steve and smacks him at the back of his head. "Not that you're going to cheat on me, you idiot," he says with a scowl. "I worry about you thinking you need to dress up for class. I worry about you saying things like that in a public place! I worry because you seem to have skipped a lot of normal social steps!"

"Okay, and what steps did I skip? Tell me, please," Steve declares, resisting the reflex to rub the back of his head as he stands over Danny, loosely crossing his arms over his chest. "Teachers wear suits. Some of the very teachers in this school do that. And you're always talking about wanting me in a suit, aren't you? And the only time, Danny, the only time I'd say anything like that is because we're alone, in case you haven't noticed," he adds, gesturing to the empty classroom.

"You don't go dressing up without warning me! I was sitting in the back of the class with a half-erection for an hour and a half," Danny complains, throwing a hand back in the direction of the nearest desk. The scowl on his face is magnifying by the second. "What are you, what, what are you even thinking that that's something to do to me?"

"And that's my fault because?" Steve prompts, looking down at Danny with some mild level of amusement. He hadn't intended it to be that kind of a surprise for him. "You like the suit, and I - I could get used to the suit. We could go home and you could show me how much you like it," he suggests.

Danny raises his brow when Steve suddenly turns into this guy saying all the right things that make Danny want to pounce him. "Who are you?" he echoes one of Steve's favorite little phrases. "God, seriously, I do not think," he says, enunciating the words, "that I have ever liked you so much as I do this minute."

"You've liked me more in other minutes too," Steve points out - and okay, maybe he likes having the comfort of knowing Danny's sitting in the back of the classroom. It just gives him that little extra boost of confidence in a sea of otherwise slightly unfamiliar faces. "But I won't complain about you saying it now."

Danny cocks his brow upwards, as if in challenge. Then, he remembers that he doesn't want to do this in an empty classroom (regardless of how empty it is, it's still a classroom). He sits up, sliding his palm up Steve's spine and bunching fabric as he goes, causing as many wrinkles as he can before tugging down on it hard as he leans forward to take control of the situation. "Take me home, then, and let me show you how much I like the suit."

Steve grins, gently swatting Danny's hand away before he reaches to pick up the apple again from where he's left it on the desk, tossing it up in the air once and catching it again in his palm to raise it to his lips and bite in, teeth sinking into the fresh fruit with an audible sound. "Thanks for the fruit, babe," he says around a mouthful.

Danny gives Steve a confused look, pointing at him and then at the door. "Okay, well, I'm gonna go thank my other teacher, then, for the lessons. And Stackhouse, he does them shirtless, so it won't even be too hard," he scoffs, shaking his head. "How is it that fruit gets top-billing over me? How?" he mutters to himself.

"Well, we're heading home now, aren't we? Seems a shame to waste perfectly good fruit on the way," Steve points out, before he reaches out with his free hand and loops fingers through Danny's belt loop, tugging him back hard enough for him to catch the next sentence in his ear. "You know I'm planning on having you up against the first wall I see when we get there," he whispers.

Danny stumbles backwards, letting out a growl of frustration and surprise at once as he presses his back against Steve's body, flush as he can. "You better be leaving those clothes on," Danny says, his mouth dry. He pries himself away from Steve, fixing his hair, and lifting his chin to walk with dignity as he leaves the school.

Steve plucks the glasses from the top of his head, slipping them into their proper case and then following behind after he picks up the bag containing his notes and other things for class. "Well, maybe not all of them," he adds, catching up to him in the span of merely a few paces.

Danny smirks as he turns and begins to walk backwards on the boardwalk when he's ensured that he's not about to trip on any hazards nearby. "I dunno," he drawls, his eyes slipping lower in an overt display of checking Steve out. "The image of you coming without even unzipping a single inch is kinda appealing, I won't lie."

Steve's expression doesn't change, but he does reach up to slightly loosen the knot on his tie, fingers tugging it out as he keeps his gaze locked on Danny's during the entirety of the motion. "Well, we could always go ahead and grant you that image. I'm not going to get off on being withholding, Danny."

Danny bites down on his lower lip as he keeps wandering back, keeping an eye out for anyone that might come across their path and make this unsettling. "Maybe I'll decide today that I'm gonna be, huh," he suggests, arching his brow upwards. "Maybe today's the day I turn into a prude."

"Is that what's going to happen?" Steve murmurs, and he can't resist the challenging smirk that appears, daring Danny non-verbally to do something before the privacy of the hut even comes into view. "Maybe I'll just have to keep wearing these until you break," he adds, running fingertips along the lapel of his jacket.

Danny bites on his lower lip to stop the muffled whine of need from coming out. He grips his palms tighter and strengthens his resolve to not give in by walking straight into the hut to start putting dinner together, ignoring the mental image of Steve's finger along his jacket. "Maybe I'll never have sex with you again, huh?"

Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat - something bordering on a low chuckle as he ducks inside the hut, shrugging off the suit jacket and laying it over the back of a chair as he slowly rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt. "You could do that, too," he softly replies.

Danny strips off his button-down as well, leaving him only in the grey t-shirt as he looks Steve over as he bends down to grab a pot. "Hey! Whoa! What is this, are you lying already? You said you weren't gonna take it off until you successfully got me naked and begging and now you're already undressing? Game so off, babe."

"Is that what you want?" Steve asks lowly, leaving the jacket on the chair as he walks into the kitchen, finding Danny grabbing something from a cabinet underneath the counter. His hands settle on his hips as he pins him there from behind, notching his chin in the junction between neck and shoulder as he ducks his head in to nip and nuzzle skin. "To beg?"

Danny stays very, very still. He doesn't move forward or backwards, makes sure that he takes in deep breaths and remains calm. "Well, now that you took the jacket off, you're just a schlub like any other day," he says dismissively, going about the cooking.