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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Steve reaches for the shampoo bottle without hesitating, lathering up his fingers before he slides them into Danny's hair, gently massaging his scalp. "So, what, you're thinking Christmas wedding?" he says softly, using his hands to slowly tilt Danny's head back.

"Well, yes, first off," Danny clarifies, because yes, he does want that. He tips his head back so that he's staring at the ceiling and Steve can get at the scalp. "But we've also been together for six months. You and me. This thing of ours."

"Really?" Steve asks, sounding partially disbelieving as his fingertips work through the length of Danny's scalp, from his hairline to the back of his head, feeling his neck yield to make the massaging a little more thorough. "Feels like it's been longer."

"That's because I've been putting up with your crazy ass for longer," Danny harrumphs, leaning back forcibly into Steve, pushing his ass against him as much as possible considering the damn thing bubbles and is in his goddamn way. "Year and a half, if we count when you got all Rambo on me."

Steve laughs, dropping a quick kiss against the curve of Danny's shoulder, nipping at a few clinging water droplets. "So, really, longer than six months. It's only six months that we've been getting more serious about it."

Danny grins and it's pure -- devoid of any sarcasm or cruelty -- and he can't help feeling like a dolt of a pleased idiot at all of this. "Six months since you and I started to do the kissing thing," he muses, leaning up to kiss Steve's lips, "and the sex thing. And the living-together thing."

Steve feels the grin in the kiss and returns it, tipping Danny's head back under the spray to wash the suds out of his hair. "Six months since I told you I was pretty much in love with you, too."

Danny closes his eyes to feel the blissful sensation of water running through his hair and grins in a way that he suspects might be accused of being 'girlish' as he slides his fingers to Steve's hips and splays them out there. "Yeah? You in love with me? With this?" he challenges smugly with a smirk. "Which part? The ass? The chest?"

"What, am I not allowed to say I'm in love with you? Just you? We're not talking specifics here, Danny," Steve replies, his hands falling to rest on Danny's shoulders. "Just - all of you."

Danny thinks that it's almost silly to be cleaning up when they're about to get dirty, but that's a thought well-buried. Instead of focusing on it, all he can do is stare up at Steve, his lower lip practically gnawed to pieces as he stares up at him, feeling like an idiot for being on the verge of emotional tears. "Fuck, I'm a mess," he babbles again, for different reasons.

"What? Why would you say that?" Steve murmurs, almost immediately shaking his head while his hand comes up to brush along Danny's cheek, tilting his chin up to meet his gaze. "You're no mess that I can see. Besides, we just got you showered off," he adds, pressing the pad of his thumb against Danny's chin and pinching gently.

"I mean that I'm an emotional landmine," he babbles. "Here you are, telling me you love me, which is nothing new, and look at me. I'm practically breaking down because...because, I don't even know. Because I miss people and because we're taking a huge step tomorrow," he rambles, letting the ebb and flow of his words soothe him.

"Well, it is a pretty big deal," Steve agrees, reaching around him to shut off the water before grabbing a towel to wrap him in, sliding warm cotton around Danny's shoulders. "To be honest, I'd be a little worried if you weren't feeling some emotions about it."

Danny's emotional at the best of times, so maybe he should just roll with this and admit that it's normal to feel like this. Then, Danny doesn't want to get caught up in feeling normal. That's dangerous territory. "How are you so good at this now, huh?" he wonders. "Used to be, I was the one who had to talk you down."

"You think I'm good at this?" Steve teases, stepping out of the shower and holding the curtain aside for Danny to do the same. "I don't know. Come the day of, tomorrow, you might have to be the one holding my hand."

Danny steps out, wrapping the towel snugly under his shoulder as he reaches forward to take hold of Steve's hand when he talks about it, giving him a bemused look. "Having cold feet about being a Daddy, are we?"

"It's not that, it's just - I'm starting to realize the impact this is gonna have on our lives, eventually," Steve admits, squeezing Danny's hand in his. "Whether it's another six months from now or six years from now. But that doesn't make me want it any less, Danno."

Danny shakes his head, trying not to diminish Steve's appreciation for how big this thing is, but he remembers doing this before and he's ready to try it on for size again. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself. He steals another towel after giving Steve's hand one last squeeze and starts to dry off the hair as best as he can, heading for the bedroom in nothing but the towel.

He's left none for Steve.

"Babe, how're you doing?" he murmurs curiously. "It's been a little while, how's your little friend doing?"

"You're very concerned with the well-being of my dick," Steve admits, reaching out for another towel to briefly rub himself dry, running it over his arms and legs and raking fingers back through his own shorter hair to slick it away from his face.

"I promise, it's doing just fine."

"I like your dick," Danny points out, sliding in snug and closer in order to sneak a hand down between them, sliding his palm full up and down the shaft of Steve's dick before tipping his head up to steal a kiss. "It likes me too. A whole lot."

Steve's hips jerk forward in unconscious reflex, a groan slipping past his lips before he has the place of mind to keep quiet, and he gnaws the inside of his cheek as his own body's responses turn against him. "Apparently so."

Danny's smile is starting to turn just that edge more smug and he starts to walk back into the bedroom, backwards, so he can keep his attention on Steve, hips swaying as he goes and crooks a finger to insist that Steve join him. "C'mere, baby."

"Baby?" Steve echoes, raising an eyebrow slowly, his own posture relaxed instead of its usual trademark stiffness, but he's still keeping some distance between the two of them, slowly shaking his head. "What am I doing to earn such quality treatment?"

Danny keeps backing up, fingers on the towel as if to let it drop at any minute. "You're being sweet and kind and loving and all the things a good husband-to-be ought to be. You're doing it all right, sweetheart."

"Can I remind you of this conversation later?" Steve asks, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head down to study Danny from that higher angle. "You know, when I've just started to convince myself that I can't do anything right, or something?"