haolehothead | (no subject)

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- game: tabula rasa

(no subject)

There are some things that Danny is never going to believe and this island has a habit of throwing them at him en masse to make him as disbelieving as possible of reality. When Danny wakes up, instead of being treated to a nice and leisurely morning, he wakes up, feels how his chest is smashed against Steve, gets a flood of nice little hormones, and lets out an indignant sounding shriek.

That's all he manages before pushing at Steve with a bare (and small) foot. He bolts from the bedroom and has about a moment's worth of panic before heading for the spare room to dig hurriedly through the drawers. His pajamas are falling off and the first order of business (beyond, 'freak out about being a chick') revolves around clothes. He eventually finds a smaller t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, which is around the same point that Danny thinks he hears noises -- Steve-shaped noises. He curls up in the corner of the room, trying to ignore facts coming into view (like how his hair is an enormous mess or how he seems shorter or how he is a woman and feels like a kid) and tries to hide.

His attempts are interfered with, of course, when Zulu decides to jump into his lap with a bark, forcing Danny to catch him. "Hey," he growls, not accustomed to the higher pitch, but grateful for the familiar cadence. "What the hell are you doing? Shut up!"

Danny just wishes that his stomach wasn't tumbling around and around like a goddamn washing machine at the mere thought of seeing Steve. Hormones, nerves, and a girl's body. Great. Just great. Maybe he should have stayed to check if Steve was okay, but for the moment, hiding seems the best course of action.

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Danny spends a couple more hours with the kids, checking in on the IPD news of the day from one of his fellow patrolpeople before searching out where Steve's gone to. He peeks around corners and wanders the Compound with the sweater tugged low over his hands. "Steven?" he calls out. "If we're playing hide and seek, you seriously need to mature a couple decades, here."

Steve looks up from the book in his hand, brow smoothing out from its furrow, and snaps it shut, tucking it in along the seat by his side. "In here," he calls out, waiting for Danny to turn the corner before he stands, reaching up to take his glasses off and tucking them back in their hard case.

Danny makes a face when Steve is taking off the glasses. He really doesn't know that he likes anything so much in the world than he does when Steve is wearing the glasses. He lights up, though, at having found him and crosses the room to jump right into Steve's arms, expecting to be caught. "Heya."

Steve grunts but recovers quickly, hoisting Danny up in his arms. He's lighter like this, easier to carry around. They'd both probably be on the floor otherwise. He slides arms around Danny's waist, hands cupping underneath his thighs, keeping him still. "Hey, you," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss Danny sweetly.

"Oh, good, you passed the test in not dropping me," Danny murmurs with a smirk, leaning in to kiss Steve back, feeling a little grimy and sticky, what with kid-paint and other stuff all over his hands. "Hey," he whispers, easing away to look at Steve with a fond smile. "I'm done for the day."

"You look like you could use another shower," Steve admits, pulling back just enough to look at the state of Danny's clothes, the flecks of paint in his hair. "Let's go home. You can get washed up and then we'll do whatever you want to do after that."

Danny wrinkles his nose and just goes with the absolutely foreign feeling that's consuming him. "Maybe I'll just work out with surfing and swim." Eighteen, for sure, because this is the one time Danny had surfed in his life before Hawaii, back in Jersey where no jellyfish will get you.

"You did grab a swimsuit," Steve admits, reflecting back to that scrap of red bikini that Danny had tossed onto the pile in his arms. "Pretty sure I didn't drop it on the way here," he adds, as he starts out toward the exit through the main level, still carrying Danny in his arms.

Danny hadn't expected a lift back home, but he's not complaining now that it seems Steve has it in his head to bring him all the way back. "So, what'd you do while I got paint all over me? I'm practically a canvas of fingerprints," he whines.

Steve grins, reaching up briefly to swipe the pad of his thumb across Danny's cheek, coming away with what he can only assume is blue finger paint. "Just did a little bit of reading," he replies, his pace easy and comfortable with such a light weight in his arms. "You look good in there, working."

"Yeah, I am good at the whole Dad thing," he boasts with a smug look on his face, sliding his fingers up and down Steve's neck while brushing against the soft skin beneath his fingertips. "Like I said. I intended to have a dozen, if not for Rachel and my marital issues."

"I know you are," Steve murmurs, turning his cheek against Danny's as his lips hover near his ear, keeping his eyes glancing ahead of them on the path. They're halfway home now, but he's in no rush to get anywhere, just enjoying the closeness, and the next words that leave his lips surprise even him, a little. "I want to have a family."

Danny's grip tightens at the words and he blames it on being so young and so easily shocked. He grips at Steve's hair in an effort to get him to stop so they can have a talk about it like normal people. "Wait. What?"

"A family," Steve repeats, reaching back to slowly extricate Danny's fingers from the back of his head, wincing slightly as a few hairs get pulled out in the process, but he meets Danny's gaze head-on. "With you. Look, I know we talked about this before, about how we didn't want anyone on the outside getting involved, but I was thinking, you know, maybe there's a way now."

Danny hears what Steve is saying, but all that registers is the thought that Steve is implying that Danny should stay like this to give him a baby. It's why Danny feels justified in swiftly kneeing Steve in the balls, hopping down from his hold and glowering as hard as he can.

Steve sinks to his knees with a grunt of pain, jaw clenching tightly, but that reaction is all Danny's going to get as he looks up at him desperately, somewhat angrily, breathing harshly through his nose until the unbearable pain slowly, gradually starts to subside. "Next time, could you please let me finish before you knee me in the balls, Daniel," he growls.

"You want me to stay this way so you can have a baby?" Danny shouts back at him, hands flying all over the place as he shouts at the top of his lungs. "Are you kidding me, Steven? Are you fucking kidding me? You're lucky that's all I did, you asshole!"

"I didn't say that," Steve protests, still crouching on his knees. "I'd never ask you to stay like that." He struggles to his feet, wincing audibly with a hiss of pain, until he can tower over Danny with his advantage of over a foot of extra height. He grabs his arms, hands completely encircling them in his grasp, pulling Danny close and up against his chest. "This baby could be ours, Danny. Ours. You've got the, you know, the stuff now to make it happen. We could, I don't know, get some of it now, save it for later."

Danny's reaction goes from confusion to guilt to sympathy to shock in about ten seconds flat, eyes and mouth doing the bulk of the work as they work and flex all over the place. He's pressed in tightly against Steve, the grip on his arms a little too tight, but now he's speechless and gaping. "What...?" he gets out. "My stuff?" he echoes incredulously. "What are you talking about?"

"You know, you're a girl right now," Steve murmurs, his grip easing slightly when it doesn't seem like Danny's going to flail out and hit him. "You've got a completely different set of anatomy. Parts. Danny, you've got the eggs," he finishes, dwelling back to some of the reading he'd done earlier in the Compound. "Or you should, if the island hasn't screwed with that too, somehow."

Danny's still gaping at Steve and all he can do is look at him in disbelief, prying away and shaking his head. "No," is all he says, giving a scoff as he keeps walking, making a snap judgment and giving Steve that answer. "No!"

"Danny." Steve shuffles after him, hand scooping up underneath his elbow to grab him and pull him back. "Look, just - just don't answer until you've thought about it a little longer, alright? You don't have to decide right now. I just - I'm not sure this isn't our only way to make it happen through us."

"And I'm saying no!" Danny replies, using his hands to try and deliver that message as emphatically as possible. "I am not turning into some carnival freak reject who needs some...some harvesting!" he says, starting to get slightly shrill as he forcibly fights to get his elbow back. "I don't need to think about that!"

Steve draws in a breath to begin his next argument, but instead of speaking, he exhales, dropping his shoulders and nodding in concession. "Okay," he murmurs, letting go of Danny's arm as he starts walking, continuing on in the same direction to head home. "I'm sorry. I never meant to - Danny, it was never my intention to make you feel like - I'm sorry."

Danny sighs and looks at Steve, instantly feeling bad (but not bad enough to change his mind) because Steve has got definite hurt-puppy look on. Between that and the guilt about injuring him, Danny knows he's got some making up to do. He keeps quiet on the walk back, heading into the bedroom to change into the swimsuit, throwing a Navy t-shirt atop with a pair of board shorts, heading out to the beach when he's done, getting the hair tied back as neatly as possible.