delicatale | the moment is revealed, 1,080 words, nc17

delicatale

So it happened. This is because of a picture, really, and, well,

thegrrrl2002 and her comments on

leupagus's journal.

stjarna1984 wrote the amazing take a dirty picture on the same idea, and it's very hot so read it. Feel free to read mine, too, and let me know what you think!

Danny's undercover as a photographer.

So the picture is this one, if you haven't seen it.

Danny goes through some of the pictures he’s taken, pushing glossy paper around and admiring his handiwork – he’s not a professional by any means but hey, for an amateur some of these shots are not bad. The light is not the best in some, but he runs his fingers around shapes and colors anyway, pulling his favorite ones over his lap as he sits cross-legged on the floor, barefoot and shirtless, surrounded by his work.

He looks up from the mess he’s made in the middle of the borrowed photography studio he’s using as an apartment for the during of the operation when there’s a noise, a door creaking open and slamming shut. His hand goes straight to his gun, tucked in the back of his pants, but then it’s Steve walking in the room, and Danny visibly relaxes, feeling his shoulders drop a little as he leaves the weapon by his side. Steve looks around, an amused glint in his eyes as he takes the pictures strewn around and Danny in the middle of them.

“I see you’re taking to it.”

“I appreciate the chance of using my talents, Steven, that is all.”

“Your talents?”

“I am a man of many talents, I’ll have you know.”

Steve walks closer, sitting a few feet away from Danny, mimicking his position as he takes one of the pictures around him in hand. His eyes roam over it and then back to Danny, and he licks his lips slowly, the intent perfectly clear.

“Oh, yeah. I know.”

Danny grins, reaching for the camera he’s been allowed to borrow from an actual photographer, wrapping the strap around his wrist and securing it there as he stands, walking closer to Steve. His bare feet stick to some of the pictures and he shakes them off, kneeling right in front of Steve’s legs and it’s almost surprising, how pliant Steve is when Danny curls his free hand in Steve’s shirt and pulls.

Steve leans back on his elbows once his shirt has hit the floor, unfurling his legs and spreading them around Danny, his eyes dark and his lips looking invitingly red. Danny moves, straddling Steve’s chest, his ass resting on top of Steve’s cock, smoothing one hand over Steve’s stomach as he brings the camera up to his eyes, looking straight into the visor.

The view changes then, as if Danny just put on magnifying glasses. Steve’s angles seem sharper; his skin glowing in the semi-darkness of the studio, and Danny tilts backwards a little, resting against Steve’s bent legs to get the frame he wants. The sound of the shutter is a sharp contrast to Steve’s quick, shallow breaths as Danny takes picture after picture, feeling his own body react to Steve, to his parted lips and tense muscles, to his hands curled around Danny’s thighs.

Through the lens, Steve looks beautiful, wanton and a little desperate, and Danny zooms on his face, capturing the look in his eyes, the way he bites his bottom lip, the sharp angle of his jaw. Then he moves the camera lower, snapping pictures as he goes; chest hair, nipples, the curve of a shoulder and the edges of a tattoo, his own fingers splayed over Steve’s stomach, pale against tanned skin.

He bucks his hips into Steve’s hand when Steve pulls on his pants, bringing them down and exposing Danny’s hips and lower stomach, the base of his cock, and a few shots will end up blurry but Danny is way too turned on to care, and he knows, can feel that Steve is just as gone, his fingers curled tight in the waistband of Danny’s pants. Danny zooms out again, shooting Steve lying amongst pictures of half-naked models, the whole thing indecent and decadent.

Trembling fingers leave the camera on the floor next to them and Danny leans down, fitting his body against Steve’s as they kiss, hungry and frantic, his fingers creating images in his head, more beautiful than any picture Danny could ever take. Pants are pulled open and pushed down with little fuss and a lot of determination, Danny biting on Steve’s lip when Steve’s hand wraps around both their cocks, pre-come and sweat easing his movements.

Danny pulls back, hands on either side of Steve’s head, and he looks down between their bodies for a moment, wishing he could take pictures of this, sweat and rolling hips and tense muscles, aching knees and soft grunts, glossy prints sticking to tacky skin. Later Danny will take some more pictures, of the bruises he kisses into Steve’s shoulders and upper chest and the way he knows Steve will look, sated and blissful, one of those rare moments where he is completely unguarded.

Danny comes embarrassingly quickly, but it’s a small relief when Steve follows suit, and Danny will put it on the long build up, the slow ascend to this very moment, Danny pushing his pulsing cock in Steve’s hand, the two of them coming all over Steve’s chest, sharing breaths as their lips stick to each other.

--

It takes a few hours before Danny gets to pull the pictures he’s taken of Steve from the memory card to his computer. He pulls the laptop over his lap, turning to look at Steve’s sleeping form for a second as he transfers the pictures, the glow of the computer illuminating his face and upper body in the otherwise dark room. They’ve made it to the bed earlier, but Danny knows the pictures he’s been eyeing earlier are still lying all over the floor.

Danny feels Steve stir as he opens the first picture, and soon enough, as he’s feeling heat pool low in his stomach, looking at a picture of Steve, spread out and his eyes the most obvious come on Danny has ever witnessed, Steve’s fingers curl around his hip, and lips kiss his shoulder.

“Hey, would you look at me. I'm hot.”

Steve’s voice is rough, the words a little damp against Danny’s skin, and Danny chuckles, kissing next to the corner of Steve's eye when he turns to him.

“I am looking at you. You look like a proper hussy, McGarrett.”

“I had reasons. Show us more, come on.”

Danny shifts from one picture to the next, and Steve groans when they get to the one of Danny’s own fingers spread over his stomach, pressing the noise into Danny’s shoulder along with soft kisses.

“You’re a good photographer.”

“You’re good model. I’m not actually done with you, by the way.”

“No?”

“No.”

Danny can feel Steve’s smile against his skin, and he brushes his fingers along Steve’s.

“Good. I’m not done with you either, Danny.”