haolehothead | (no subject)

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- game: tabula rasa

(no subject)

The truth is, Danny's been on edge for about three weeks now, and he has no idea how Steve has not fucking noticed anything. He's twitchy, he's worried, he's scoping out Steve like he's an enemy instead of his fiance and all over a little thing he's slipped into the pocket of Steve's jacket. Hell, maybe this would be easier if Danny just shoved the thing at Steve.

He's too busy to worry about it right now, getting ready for the Bennet Ball or whatever it is they're calling it. He's taken his shower and is puttering around the room in a pair of blue jeans and a threadbare white t-shirt, taking his time to make sure that he smells good, looks nice, and is generally presentable for people. He's got a couple hours yet, so there's no rush to it.

Whether tonight is the night that Steve finds his surprise, well, that's just up to him and his choice in clothes.

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Steve's noticed. Of course Steve's noticed. He's chalking it up to a little anticipation, a little anxiety about something, but he'll be damned if he ever knows how to read Danny's mind all the time, and this is definitely one of those moments where he's feeling a little less than perceptive.

He's taking more time getting ready, dressed in a pair of boxers, and he pulls a t-shirt over his head so he isn't walking around half-naked, a state that often incurs a little Williams wrath. He's got his jacket hung up on the bedroom door, making sure it's wrinkle-free, when his hand runs over the pocket and he frowns, pressing his thumb over the shape through the fabric.

Danny's cleaned his way into the spare room, sighing as he stares at all the fur in front of him. "Babe," he calls over helplessly. "What are the chances of you building us a vacuum so his shedding stops being something I physically want to tear my hair out over?"

"They don't have a vacuum anywhere on the island?" Steve calls back. He might be inclined towards constructing something himself, but even he's a little stretched for supplies when Danny starts getting fancy with appliances. He reaches inside the pocket and comes out with the band, rolling it between thumb and forefinger, lifting it up to gauge the size of it.

"Babe?" he adds, voice almost too quiet for Danny to overhear when he calls out softly.

Danny's slipped into the bathroom and while he's heard the first part of Steve's sentence, he didn't hear the second. "I'm pretty sure I haven't seen anyone establishing Hoover technology, so you know, I'd be happy with a static cloth that served the same purpose," he rambles as he peers in the mirror and ducks down to appraise his hair.

Steve clears his throat, curling his fingers around the ring and tucking it inside his palm before he follows the sound of Danny's voice to find him in the bathroom. He's gripping onto the ring hard enough to leave an indentation in his palm, and he stands over Danny's shoulder, making himself plainly visible in the reflection of the mirror. "I'll see if I can find something that might help with the fur," he promises, and simply waits, calmly, for Danny to turn around.

Danny glances up in the middle of getting gel on his fingers. He turns as he works it through his hair, giving Steve a long look up and down, a bit wary as to why the hovering act. "Steve?" he says dubiously. "Lurk much?"

Steve slowly holds up the ring, the band poised between thumb and forefinger, his other arm loosely resting across his abdomen as he leans back against the bathroom wall, surveying Danny with curiosity. "Found this in my jacket a couple minutes ago," he murmurs, searching Danny's face. "You wanna tell me how it got there?"

Danny looks from Steve to the ring, then back to the ring, and back to Steve. And then, god help his soul, he can't even help his sheepish look, as though he's been discovered. "Crap. You figured out I'm having an affair," he deadpans, cocking a brow up to ask Steve what he thinks it would possibly be otherwise.

Steve's brow furrows into a momentary frown before being quickly replaced by a grin and a chuckle as he claps Danny on the shoulder with his free hand, fingers squeezing down to knead against the muscle while he hauls his partner in. "Was I not supposed to find it?" he asks, momentarily worried, because maybe Danny's been planning a surprise all along and he's just thrown a wrench into things by picking the wrong suit jacket to wear tonight.

Danny nearly, but doesn't, trip when Steve hauls him like that. He sighs and shakes his head, a rueful chuckle on his lips. "Are you kidding me?" Danny asks, leaning up on his toes to kiss Steve and take the ring out of his hands, studying it to make sure time hasn't worn it down. "It took you three weeks to find it."

"Well, when was I going to have an excuse to wear my dress jacket aside from tonight?" Steve responds matter-of-factly, looking down at Danny's face before he reaches up to wipe away a bit of gel from his hairline. "It even looks like it's the right size. Where did you get it, D?"

"I held out hope that you would take me on a nice date, but we can see how that turned out," Danny huffs out, giving Steve a softly fond grin, holding up his left hand and wiggling the ring finger. "I measured this bad boy when you were asleep. With some string."

"I'm taking you on a date now, aren't I? This is definitely a date," Steve insists, letting Danny guide his hand up and shaking his head in mild disbelief, affection creeping in at the edges of his gaze as he tilts his head down to kiss Danny, visibly impressed. "You're definitely getting stealthier," he confesses, slowly nipping at Danny's lower lip.

"No, see, technically," Danny says, still holding onto the ring while he gets kissed and tempted to do all sorts of wicked things to Steve. "Technically we are just going to a dance. This isn't really a date, but you did find the ring, so maybe you should be rewarded." He speaks the last few words into a kiss.

"I'm taking you," Steve insists slowly, punctuating every few words with a kiss, "as my date - to this dance. So, see, technically - it's a date." He slides a hand up along Danny's back, feeling the warmth of his skin through the threadbare cotton of the shirt, letting out a contented hum against his lips. "I want you to put it on," he insists, nose nudging against Danny's temple when he turns his head.

"What, are you, are you seriously not even going to look at the engraving?" Danny demands, but there's little heat in the words considering their position and how he's ready to do anything Steve asks at a moment's notice. He twirls the pretty little ring in his hand, a little upset that it's not gold or silver, but metalworks will have to do.

"You engraved it?" Steve asks, plucking the ring from Danny's fingers and squinting slightly as he tries to read the lettering on the inside. "This would be a lot easier with my glasses," he admits, holding it inches away from his nose and nearly going cross-eyed in his attempts to read while he turns the ring slowly in his fingers, grinning once he manages to make out the letters.

"Tempted," Danny begins, snatching the ring back out of Steve's hands and walking in a hurried strut away, "as I was to embellish your ring with the SEAL motto, I didn't think that boded very well for our upcoming rest-of-our-lives-together," he clarifies, raising his voice as he gets to the bedroom to fetch Steve's glasses. "And so, I went with three words that made me go from wanting to strangle you a lot to wanting to strangle you only a little bit."

Steve grabs the glasses once Danny brings them back and jabs them on his nose, reading over the words Danny's had engraved on the inside of the ring alongside the trio of letters, and his grin only broadens as he holds out hand, passing the ring back to Danny. "Well, as long as you only want to strangle me a little bit," he murmurs, blinking slowly.

Danny takes the ring back, his grin stupidly wide. He knows what Steve wants him to do and he's starting to realize that holding off is only going to make Steve antsy. He sighs and gets down on one knee -- the good one -- while his back creaks slightly. Holding up the ring, he clears his throat. "I've already been proposed to, you're not getting rid of me, so this is totally and only a gesture, but, you gonna take me in sickness and health, McGarrett?"

Steve's already grinning before Danny even starts talking, and he nods, hauling Danny up off his knee before every muscle in his body starts to scream in protest. "Good luck getting rid of me, too," he promises, drawing his partner in for a brief, firm embrace as he tucks his chin in against Danny's shoulder, breathing in the scent of his aftershave. He pulls back to slip the ring on, curling his fingers into a fist to test the fit of it. "You did good, Danno."

Danny practically falls into Steve's impressively framed chest -- not that he minds, he likes that chest -- and he grins as he watches the ring pressed on, biting his lip to try and keep from smiling like too much of an idiot. "I saw the way you kept looking at mine and I thought, well, hell, I thought maybe you might be jealous."

"Jealous?" Steve echoes, a tease of a question as he glances down at the ring nestled firm around his finger, slightly covering the ink already above the knuckle, not budging one inch, and he knows even as he puts it on that it's not about to fall off any time soon. "Jealous? I don't know, maybe I was. Maybe not jealous, maybe just a little envious. You got even more of a claim on me now," he murmurs, smiling slowly.

Danny smirks, picking at Steve's shirt and plucking him along, taking him out of the bathroom and towards the bedroom because he doesn't need his important moments going on where they bathe. "You just kept staring at it. It made me, you know, think some things."

"You thought some things, huh?" Steve repeats again, laughing half-under his breath as Danny tugs him along by the fabric of his t-shirt, effectively wrinkling the white cotton in his grasp, and Steve shuffles his feet, finally coming up behind Danny to slide arms around his waist from behind, burying his face in Danny's neck and groaning softly, kissing the juncture between his neck and shoulder. "What're you thinking about right now?"