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delicataleChapter 6! ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tailoredshirt betaed this for me, yay! Thanks to my usual suspects =D. I am terribly tired so I am going to go to sleep now, but I hope you enjoy! Getting close to the end you guyyyyyyyys.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
January 2009
It took a lot of careful planning, three pre-paid, untraceable sim-cards, and three cheap phones that Steve tossed as soon as he could during missions, no communication during his time on base or on a ship, but they managed. When Steve lands in Hawaii, he goes straight to his hotel and checks in, takes long enough to deposit his bags and he’s gone again, breathing in the sea air and the moist warmth of Honolulu. He hasn’t even told his dad he is in for a week.
As soon as he finds one, Steve slinks inside an internet cafe, a dingy little store on a street corner with dusty old, loud computers that have seen better days. Steve gets himself settled and quickly creates the most random email address he can on the most random service he can find, and sends a nondescript email to Danny, hotel name and hotel room number and how long he’s here for. He could probably relax and let himself add a few more things, but he’s too fucking terrified for that, he’s too chicken shit for that.
Steve checks the time and makes a rapid calculation after he’s hit send, if only to know if he should stick around because Danny will be awake and able to check his emails or not. It’s a possibility he is still up, still around, so Steve waits. He waits half an hour and when he gets no answer, Steve gives up, pays for the time and leaves the internet cafe.
He spends the day getting reacquainted with his island, this place he once called home. Everything has changed, from the way people look at him – even those who used to call him 5-0, call him Steve, never looked at him like he was just another haole invading their land. But now that’s all he is, and he’s lost the connection he once felt with the island, he feels as foreign to it as people think he is.
He didn’t think it’d hurt as much as it does, and when he goes for a run in the Ala Moana beach park he avoids clusters of people, ducks away from view. He feels like an intruder even though he’s spent 16 years here, and it makes him angry, suddenly, to feel shunned by people he used to call his, now talking Pidgin in front of him as if he can’t understand. He would hurl insults in the language at them, show them just how wrong they are and just how much he has a right to be here as they do, but it’d feel hollow, a shallow victory when he doesn’t even have the guts to go and visit his father, the man that made Oahu home for Steve.
Steve still can’t quite put out the fire in his heart, feelings clawing at his stomach in a way he wouldn’t have let happen a few years ago. He’s getting soft with the years, he thinks, or maybe. Maybe he’s just letting himself live a little harder. And he knows who to blame for this, small and loud and abrasive, only taking Steve’s shit when he wants to, when he decides it’ll make things easier for him.
Steve’s not stupid, not as stunted as he’d like to be sometimes. He knows very well that all these things that keep on opening up his chest, his random desires to see his sister and his father, to ask him if he stopped loving them after their mother died, to let it all out, all those things he’s kept to himself for so long because it was easier to hide from feelings than deal with them, he knows all of it is because of Danny. Danny and all his feelings and his bold choice to wait on Steve, to be with him, even if it’s only a few days twice a year. Danny and his smiles and his lack of questions, his willingness to coax Steve out of his shell, slowly, moment after moment. And Steve is scared when he’s alone, he’s scared of getting his heart broken and being unable to do anything about it, because if Danny decides to leave him, Steve will not be able to stop his world from caving in on itself, he will not be able not to tear down everyone and everything in despair.
And there is nothing he can do about it. Steve knows it’ll happen one day, one of these days, Danny will go, leave. Maybe he won’t get on a plane, from Newark to Honolulu Airport. Maybe Steve will never see him again, starting now - Steve clenches his jaw at the thought, forcing it away from his head with a strong shake that sends the drops of sweat clinging to his hair flying around. Steve stops running; turns towards the water, his running shoes digging in the sand as he takes in the breathtaking colors of the ocean, laid out in front of him, his for the taking.
Even better than a meditating position, Steve finds himself dropping his shirt in the sand, toeing off his shoes and socks. Old habits die hard, and Steve’s never been one to go anywhere near a beach in Hawaii without a pair of swimming trunks close, so he put them on before going running, not certain of how his work out would end.
The water’s fresh and feels so soothing on Steve’s skin when he dives in he could almost cry, remembering why he’d loved this place so much. Swimming had always been an escape, a way to let the world fade away, to allow his thoughts to drift off. So Steve swims. He swims until his arms and legs and heart burn and he swallows sea water to stop tasting the bitter longing at the back of his throat, his head clearing slowly, until he can start feeling the excitement about seeing Danny again fill him up, tinged with just enough desperation to make Steve try to swim faster back to shore.
He dries himself in the sun, enjoying the quiet white noise in his head now, not so agitated anymore, the ocean inside him swelling and moving slowly, waves crashing against his ribs and lapping at his heart. For now Danny’s still around.
---
Steve can’t sleep. He keeps on twisting his foot in the crisp white sheets of the bed, untwisting and then doing it again, listening to the low rumble of the rare cars driving by and the reassuring noises of the ocean, his fingers tapping an unwritten melody over his bare chest. The window by his left is close enough that, if he reached out he could open it and let the sea breeze help him breathe, and Steve contemplates it, turning his head towards the window and watching the brightly lit night sky, before sighing to himself, turning away again.
He feels like a teenager, bored and lazy and bursting at the seams with things to do and say and no one to do them with or tell them to. He wants Danny here, it’s his second day here alone and he’s starting to allow the fear back in.
The knock on his door startles him - it’s late and he hasn’t ordered any room service. Cautiously, Steve throws a look to his duffel, in which his weapon is safely tucked, and heads to the door, tugging on jeans on his way, leaving them open. He jerks the door open, throwing a look outside before opening it wide, his heart kicking into a mad dance as he takes in Danny, hair carefully back over his head and a bag slung over his shoulder, leaning on a cane.
Steve doesn’t even comment on it as he makes way for Danny to step inside without a word, closing the door gently. It takes Danny about two milliseconds after the door is shut to drop the bag and the cane and fall into Steve’s eager arms, his stubble rough over Steve’s skin. Steve holds him, fingers pressing Danny’s shirt into his skin at the small of his back, his other arm around Danny’s shoulders as he leans down, buries his nose in Danny’s neck, closes his eyes, breathes him in. Steve moves just enough to kiss Danny’s collarbone, feeling Danny’s fingers curling into the belt loops of his jeans.
“Training to become a pimp, Danny?”
“Tore my ACL.”
They’re whispering into each other’s skin, and Steve’s smile turns into a frown, but Danny doesn’t let him add anything just yet, cutting off all thought processes when he moves enough to be able to kiss Steve, a series of brief, small kisses that make Steve’s stomach bottom out and chase for more, forcing the last kiss to deepen with a hand fisted in Danny’s hair and a growl he doesn’t even let out on purpose. He brushes his thumb along Danny’s cheekbone when he lets go of his hair, feeling the lines around Danny’s eyes and around his smile when he moves his fingers. He feels tired but he tastes so good Steve can’t move away, his body taking control over his brain, until Danny wrenches his mouth away. The way he pants and digs his fingers in Steve’s ribs tell Steve that Danny didn’t mind the forceful kiss, but his eyes are heavy-lidded, a little dimmer than usual.
“I’m dead on my feet, Steve. 10 hour flight and I barely slept and I’m jetlagged and can we just be horizontal right now? My knee’s killing me and I just want to curl up into you and sleep for a day.”
Steve searches Danny’s eyes for a moment, trying to decide if there’s anything else here that Danny’s not telling him, but when he can’t see anything, he nods.
“Okay.”He forces himself away from Danny and crouches to grab his bag and cane, handing over the cane to Danny, watching him hobble to the bedroom of the suite, reminding him of his own injury the year before. When he joins Danny in the bedroom, he finds him on the bed, sitting up against the headboard, only wearing his boxers and shirt now.
“By the way, can I tell you that you look indecently good in those jeans?”
Steve looks down at himself, tugs on the waistband of his pants lightly.
“Really?”
“Fuck, Steve, you have no idea. You should wear jeans more. Not that cargoes don’t suit you, but there is a quality to your thighs encased in jeans that is quite incomparable.”
“For someone so very tired, you talk a lot.”
Danny shrugs, the look in his eyes so lustful Steve feels it hit him like a ton of bricks, or a punch in the gut, like capsizing on a big wave on the North Shore. Steve lets the jeans drop off his hips, stepping out of them when they pool around his ankles, and then he crawls over the bed, kissing Danny’s thigh when it’s in reach, feeling the soft fuzzy hairs tickling his lips. Danny relaxes, his hand falling to the top of Steve’s head, fingers playing with slightly longer hair than usual.
“No time for a haircut, babe?”
“Been busy.”
“I bet.”
“Am busy now.”
“Told you I just want to sleep.”
“Yeah, but then you looked at me like you wanted nothing more than for me to suck your cock, and I thought, oh well, this doesn’t involve a lot of work for him, he should be okay with it. But if you’re not...”
Danny’s eyes flash, and his fingers tighten for an instant.
“Oh no, please, don’t stop on my account. Just don’t blame me if I fall asleep.”
Steve grins, mouthing at Danny’s half-hard cock through his underwear, long licks that make Danny arch a little.
“Don’t think you will, somehow.”
Danny chuckles, shaking his head as he raises his hips enough for Steve to tug his underwear down. He’s only had so many times with Danny to improve himself in the art of sucking cock, but Steve has yet to hear one complaint from Danny, so he guesses he’s doing something good enough for his New Jersey loudmouth, at least.
Steve runs his hands over Danny’s stomach, feeling him breathe in and out slowly, seemingly trying to keep himself in check as Steve runs his tongue along Danny’s now hard cock, up and down, slowly, fingers cupping Danny’s balls, his free hand pressing Danny against the bed.
“You, you look -” Steve looks up, wrapping his lips around the tip of Danny’s cock, flicking his tongue over it as he gives Danny his best innocent eyes. “Jesus.”
Steve lets go of Danny’s cock, blinking as bites the smile off his lips.
“I look what?”
“Positively obscene.”
“Couldn’t your vocabulary disappear when I’m doing this? You could offend a man.”
“Hey, my vocabulary is all I have.”
“That and a mean right hook.”
“Well, yeah. But I’m not going to use that right now.”
“Good. Now shut up.”
Danny huffs out a laugh when Steve dips his head back down, but it ends on a moan because Steve is taking his cock as deep as he can without feeling sick, twirling his tongue around it and hollowing his cheeks, sucking with enthusiasm made even fiercer when he hears Danny gasp, his hand slam against the wooden headboard of the bed. He’s tucking his stomach in, rolling his hips under Steve, and the small keening noise he’s making are sure to drive Steve crazy, his own erection aching painfully in his underwear, weeping for attention.
Steve slides a hand inside his boxers and grabs his cock, fisting it tight and jerking it hard, making his moves sloppy, too wet and not coordinated well enough with Danny’s small thrusts, but it works well enough anyway because Danny is sounding more and more desperate, tipping on the edge, his fingers pulling at Steve’s hair.
“Hey, hey - not f-fair, wanna see you.”
Danny bends over, reaches out and tugs at Steve’s underwear, enough for Steve to get the message and pull them down enough to free his cock, putting himself on show. Danny moans again, keeping his hand on Steve’s back. Steve moves his free hand to Danny’s hip, down to his ass, feeling the muscles contract with every little thrust up, and Steve closes his eyes, feeling dizzy with need.
He’s being reckless, doing this while Danny was intent on simply going to sleep, but fuck, they have 5 days and Danny’s more than just a little into it right now, so Steve doesn’t feel that guilty about it, easing the pressure a little, pulling back until only the tip of Danny’s cock is in his mouth.
“Shit, Steve -”
Steve feels Danny’s thigh tremble against his shoulder and he knows Danny’s done there, his muscles giving up as his orgasm hits him, and he comes with a cry and his back arching, his hand once again keeping Steve in place, not that Steve would have moved anyway. He swallows around Danny a little greedily, pulling at his own cock harder and harder until he’s gone as well, pushing himself off Danny’s softening erection to groan against his stomach, the fine sheen of sweat sticking to Steve’s skin.
“Jesus Christ. Well at least I’m going to sleep like a log after this.”
Steve holds on to Danny, sliding into a lying position, his belly sticky and it’d be uncomfortable and impossible if his head wasn’t on Danny’s stomach, if Danny wasn’t carding his fingers through his hair softly.
“Am glad I helped.”
“Just so you know, I’m not getting on my knees this week.”
Steve spares a look down to Danny’s legs, his injured knee, and then it hits him.
“Shit, that means no hike, too, doesn’t it?”
“Hike - what do you mean, hike? Of course it means no hike, did you plan on us going hiking?”
Steve turns his face to Danny’s, nodding.
“Yeah. Wanted to show you the petroglyphs. Nevermind, then. We’ll find something else to do. How did this happen?”
“I. I’ve been doing a lot of running and jumping around lately. That, plus the years of training and the muscular mass being a strain on my ligaments and shit, there you go.”
“Is it related to Vince again?”
Danny’s face closes, but Steve could read through it anywhere, anytime. He sighs, sliding off Danny and letting the two of them get settled on the bed. Danny slides to a lying position, facing Steve while Steve holds his head up on his hand and elbow.
“Danny, what about Grace?”
“What about her? Who do you think I do this for? A kid costs a lot of money, Steve.”
“Yeah, and what good will that be the day you get shot?”
“Pot, meet kettle.”
“I don’t have a kid, Danny!”
“No, but you’ve got me!”
Steve falls to his back, staring at the ceiling again, his eyes following the patterns the lights of the outside make on the white paint job. Danny has said the words in an urgent, furious whisper, snapping his mouth shut afterwards, as if shocked with himself. But fuck, maybe he’s right - he spends so much time worrying about Danny leaving him because of this very reason, without even thinking about the way Danny feels.
It doesn’t make Danny working with the Mafia any better, but it’s enough to make Steve feel like an asshole anyway. He reaches out, his hand gripping Danny’s, tight and scared between their bodies as they lie in silence, fingers entwined and breathing slowing.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I get it -”
“Do you, though?” Danny turns his head towards Steve, and Steve looks back, unable not to. “Do you really get it? Because I don’t think you do, Steve. I think your sense of priorities and what’s right and what’s wrong is utterly fucked up and you think you can judge all you want when really, you should take a good, long look at yourself. At us, what’s going on here. Because fuck it if I don’t love you like the stupid fuck I am and I’m not sure you get that. I’m not sure if you get how fucking terrified I am every time I watch the news.”
Steve keeps on looking right at Danny, keeps on squeezing his fingers, but his heart has stopped beating and he’s there and elsewhere entirely, in a corner of his mind jumping and dancing and another, cowering in fear of all those feelings assaulting him on a daily basis, making him less sharp and focused, making him more crazy and passionate. Fuck, Danny said it, Danny unleashed that beast inside Steve’s heart and stomach and head and Steve’s not sure he’ll ever manage to come back from it.
“Danny -”
“No, no, you’re going to apologize again, I don’t want to hear that, I just want to sleep now.”
“Danny.”
“Don’t apologize, I swear to God I’ll punch you in the face.”
“I love you, too.”
---
The North Shore waves have always impressed Steve. As a kid, they’d looked like mountains he wanted to climb, whenever Mamo brought him and Mary around. So tall, looming over the shore, casting shadows and spitting water over everyone who dared coming close, they’d been giants Steve was fascinated with.
As a teenager they’d been challenges, the bigger the better. The more bruises and cuts he’d get from being thrown against the reef, the more satisfied he was. Maybe it was just his masochistic streak, but through it all it was as if he’d made his peace with the overpowering waves. When Steve left the island they had an understanding.
And now he’s back here, in front of them, sitting in the bed of the rented truck he and Danny have been using to visit Oahu, and they seem to be calling out to him like an old friend would open their arms. Steve is enthralled, looking at the waves, sitting next to Danny, and wondering if this is the essence of belonging.
“I’ve seen pretty traumatic shit in my life, Steve, but this is just. How is this even real? How tall are those waves?”
“Most of the time, between ten and twenty-five feet. There are some forty, fifty feet records, though. What traumatic shit?”
Danny handwaves it, but when Steve tears his eyes away from the ocean, he sees how closed Danny’s face is, memories like clouds in the brightness of his eyes. Steve wishes he had the power to make them all disappear.
“You know. Shit.”
Steve bumps his shoulder with Danny’s, not pushing further, even though the you’re gonna tell me it’s classified? is burning at the tip of his tongue. He swallows it down and shakes his head, fingers brushing Danny’s before he hops off the bed of the truck, leaning against it instead. He spares a glance at the generic blue cooler near the cabin.
He’s still wondering what traumatic things Danny has seen, when suddenly it hits him - New York in September 2001. Danny had to have been there, close enough to witness the towers collapsing. Maybe he’d lost family members, friends in the tragedy. Steve feels a shiver run through him, down along his spine, despite the very warm weather.
“So you wanna go swimming?”
“Surely you’re joking. I was made for boxing rings and avoiding tall freaky guys while playing ice hockey, Steve, not swimming.”
Steve grins at Danny over his shoulder, crossing his arms over his chest. Danny’s eyes are soft and amused when he looks back at Steve, but there’s still something tense there, making Steve wish he could reach out a hand and squeeze Danny’s thigh lightly.
“You mean you don’t know how to swim?”
“I know how to swim. I can swim, Steven, I just don’t like it. It’s the whole push-ups thing all over again, you know? You remember?”
Steve hopes he’s conveying enough with the look he sends Danny, because he’s not about to say these words aloud.
“I remember.”
Danny has the decency to blush a little, looking down and away with a grin that looks a little smug. Steve rolls his eyes and smiles to himself.
“Hey, what’s in that? Did you bring beers? Because if you did, I might let you do that thing you talked about last night.”
Steve opens his mouth as he watches Danny point his thumb towards the cooler, feeling a flush creep up his neck. It’s not beer, and he’s not sure he wants Danny to go looking in the cooler, but it’s too late, he’s already sliding back and grabbing the handle of the cooler to bring it closer to him, pushing the lid off.
“Danny -”
“Champagne, Steve? Did you want to celebrate something?”
Steve sighs when he looks at the bottle Danny is holding up, fat drops of water running down the long neck, over Danny’s fingers. It’s nice Champagne, Steve googled it and all, and he had a perfectly plausible explanation behind the buying of that bottle - now, looking at Danny’s curious smile, he’s not so sure. Danny’s going to laugh and laugh.
“No...”
“Oh, come on, out with it, McGarrett, you even got the proper glasses and all. You spoil me.”
Danny puts the flutes next to him on the bed of the truck, going to uncork the bottle of Champagne, letting Steve to ponder whether or not he should lie. But fuck it if he hasn’t been lying to Danny too much in the past. Now - now it feels stupid to not say the truth, as stupid as it is.
“I thought. I just thought, you know, we’re here and I’ve missed all your birthdays and all the Christmases and New Years’ Eves and I don’t know. I wanted to celebrate the fact that - I missed all this but we’ve got now.”
Danny looks up sharply from pulling at the bottle of Champagne, and the cork goes flying unexpectedly, and Danny yelps in surprise as Champagne drips over his hand and his shorts. He slides off the bed of the truck, leaving the bottle next to the glasses, turning back to Steve, apparently trying to act like the last 30 seconds didn’t happen. Steve is biting his smile down, listening to the crash and swell of the waves behind him.
“So basically you’re saying that you’re a big sap and a romantic, and you’ve been holding out on me.”
“I - no, that’s not exactly how I’d put it.”
“It’s how I put it. Fuck’s sake , Steve, if I’d known. You need to tell me these things, you know?”
“I will. Now I will.”
Danny rolls his eyes and squeezes Steve’s wrist with two fingers, thumb pressing against Steve’s pulse for just a second before pulling back. It makes Steve dry-swallow, to realize he doesn’t have to ask for Danny not to show anything out of place when they’re outside the confines of their hotel room. They’re alone here, them and the ocean, the few surfers dotting the beach too far away to pay attention to them, but still, Danny doesn’t step forward for a hug, or tug Steve into a kiss, not here, and Steve is incredibly thankful of it.
“Relax, Steve.”
Danny offers him an indulgent smile, and Steve realizes then that he’s almost in parade rest, his muscles tense and his fingers twisted around one another at his back. He shakes himself loose at Danny’s words, scratching the back of his neck and feeling that flush creep back up.
Danny turns back to the truck to fill up the glasses and he passes one to Steve once they’re full enough. They clink their flutes together and Danny grins.
“To our birthdays these past four years, then.”
“And Christmases.”
“And New Years’ Eves.”
---
Steve rolls to his side, fitting himself against Danny’s back, bending his knees to Danny’s legs, his body following the lines of Danny’s, the skin under his lips hot and soft. Danny grumbles halfheartedly, batting Steve’s hand away from his stomach, but Steve just presses it to Danny’s hip instead, fingers digging into the dip of Danny’s hipbone.
“Steeeeeve...”
“What?”
Danny rolls to his back, his eyes closed. Steve noses along the five-day beard that grows thicker every time Steve looks at Danny , going down to nip at his jaw, smelling sweat and saliva and the smile on Danny’s lips when Steve gets there, tasting the crinkles at the corners of it, moving back up, kissing up Danny’s nose, along his cheekbone, to the corner of his eye.
“You realize not all of us are Navy SEALs that can survive without sleep and food for 132 hours without stopping.”
“Want breakfast?”
“I’m starving.”
Danny’s protesting, but his hands are still running up and down Steve’s sides, fingers counting ribs lazily. Steve’s heart is beating way too fast for such a slow, languid exploration. He wills himself to calm down, breathing in the reassuring smell of Danny’s skin, musk and sweat and skin and peaches, reminding himself that they have a few days left of this, of the two of them and trips around the island and nights and mornings like this, lazy and easy, comfortable.
“What do you want?”
“I want...I want pancakes with sugar and blueberries. And eggs. Sunny side-up. And bacon. Crispy but not burnt. And coffee. Mmm coffee.”
“I’m sure the hotel makes a mean Loco Moco.”
“A what? No, Steve, eggs and crispy bacon and pancakes. Possibly a bagel.”
Steve nibbles on Danny’s earlobe for all of a second, enough for Danny to arch into it and muffle a groan against his lips, though. Steve ignores the way his stomach flips when he pulls away. He orders breakfast quickly, a mountain of food for the two of them, which must look even worse for the staff, that still thinks he’s alone in the room. When he hangs up, he stays sitting by Danny’s lying, lazy form on the bed, fingers reaching out, grazing along Danny’s arm.
“How do you know about Hell Week? We eat, by the way.”
“I went on wikipedia. Rachel explained to me how and then I stole her laptop for ten minutes while pretending to make sure Gracie was sleeping.”
“Using your daughter now?”
“Nah, I did check. Anyway. That’s how I know about Hell Week. Before that I thought Hell Week was some stupid hazing on Greek row.”
“Well, it is that too. It’s similar.”
“Similar? Babe, no. Have you been to college? I’ve not done the whole Greek thing, but my friend Greg did, right ? And he told me about Hell Week, and it’s, you know, stupid shit, I don’t know, getting super drunk and doing stupid chores. It’s not sleep deprivation and 80% of the pledgers abandoning before the end.”
“It’s an elimination process. The strongest stay in the end. The worthiest. And I’ve been to Annapolis.”
Danny smiles, still not opening his eyes. He moves his arm a little until his palm is against Steve’s, sliding his fingers in between Steve’s. Steve gives it a thought, how different they look, once again one of those random moments where he wonders about the two of them, what people think when they see them walking side by side down the street.
“Man, that is such bullshit. But nevermind, I’m too hungry to argue anyway. And tired. My God, do you ever have enough?”
“Hey, can you blame me? I see you one week every 6 months, Danny.”
Danny opens his eyes at that, finally, and, using Steve’s grip on his hand, pulls himself up. He seems to be wanting to say a lot with his eyes, without having to actually say the words. Steve looks away, feeling suddenly embarrassed - he hadn’t meant it seriously, but now he feels stupid.
“Not blaming you.” Danny rests his chin on Steve’s shoulder, his words brushing against Steve’s neck, the hair curling at the nape, soft whispers of air against Steve’s skin. They lean against each other, shoulder to opposite shoulder, fingers tangled together over Steve’s lap. “Not blaming you, Steve. I was just teasing.”
Danny moves just enough to place a kiss on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve turns to him, bumping his nose against Danny’s forehead until he looks up, allows them to kiss. Steve isn’t ashamed of his hunger for Danny, not in these moments where it seems to be all that matters, everything that will ever matter.
“Okay. Danny -”
Danny stops him, his free hand framing Steve’s jaw, his thumb dragging over Steve’s bottom lip, pulling it down for an instant before releasing it, and Danny shakes his head, smiling. His eyes keep on traveling all over Steve’s face, but his eyes aren’t trying to decipher anything, the expression on Danny’s face telling Steve that he just knows. And it’d freak Steve out if it didn’t feel so stupidly right.
“Don’t. It’s okay. It’s not because we said some things recently that you have to repeat them all the time, okay? I know. I’ve known for a while, but you’re a bit slow.”
Steve huffs out a laugh, poking Danny’s side with his free hand. He wonders all the things Danny’s been sure of while Steve was torturing himself over his feelings. It feels almost unfair, but at the same time, he knows now what exactly he feels for Danny - fuck, he feels everything for Danny - and it won’t change a single thing when he’s back to base.
“I’m not slow.”
“Babe, please. It took you two years to tell me what you do for a living.”
Steve laughs again, pulling Danny closer a fraction, kissing him briefly, absolutely unable to help himself. He doesn’t want to ever be able to help himself, in those moments.
“Fair enough.”
---
Steve goes swimming every morning, because it’s habit and because it feels like coming home, the water embracing him and the exercise warming him up just right. He dries himself on the beach before going back to the hotel, usually to a freshly showered Danny and breakfast.
They have a day left in Hawaii and it feels way too short, now, it feels like letting go of Danny way too early, Steve’s not ready for it. And this morning, Danny is waiting for him by his towel, bare toes moving in the sand, ass sat in a groove and knees bent, an arm slung around them, a pair of sunglasses perched on the top of his head. He smiles when Steve jogs closer, but his eyes swipe appreciatively over Steve’s body, lingering for a few beats too long on Steve’s crotch - his black swimming trunks leave very little to the imagination, Steve would admit that.
Steve doesn’t say anything as he shakes himself like a puppy, enough to make Danny yelp and make Steve grin, before he grabs the towel, rubbing it over his face and hair before sitting next to Danny. Their arms brush - Danny’s skin is warm and sun-soaked where Steve’s is wet and fresh, feeling almost new. Steve’s fingers trace a scar curving around Danny’s elbow, but he refrains himself from asking, his gaze darting away.
“Morning.”
“I was curious as to what you see in this.”
“In what? Swimming?”
“Yeah. Swimming, the ocean, the taste of sea water on your tongue. You seem to enjoy it to a level that I’d consider extreme, seeing you made it your job and your life, so, I wondered.”
“How do you feel when you’re boxing, Danny?”
Danny shrugs one shoulder, still looking out at the ocean, squinting a little, but not enough for Steve to tell him to put the sunglasses on. His hair is still a little messy, looking like Danny only brushed his fingers through it before slipping out, and the blond strands look soft as they curl around the arms of the sunglasses, playing with the wind.
“I don’t know. I just feel - good, I guess. Like I belong there, at that exact moment I throw a punch, it’s like everything’s aligned and everything makes sense. I can forget about everything that’s fucked up and going wrong and - okay, I get it.”
Danny smiles, huffs out a chuckle, his big toe tracing a circle in the sand. Steve reaches out and digs his index finger in the middle of the circle, pulling it out after a second.
“We’re not that different, are we?”
Danny turns to look at Steve, cocking his head to the side a little, before looking back at the water lapping at the shore, the stark golden sand looking almost white under the sun, an almost shocking contrast to the blueness of the ocean. It’s blindingly beautiful, and it feels a little too much right now, too sharp, the light too bright, the world assaulting Steve’s senses.
“Guess not. You just gave up much more than I did.”
“It doesn’t feel like that.”
It doesn’t. Steve loves his job, loves his duty, loves being able to help, doing his part for the world and to make it right. He’s not stupid nor naive enough to think people won’t find ways to break what they build all the time, but he likes trying to make things better. It makes him feel good about himself, too, like he’s doing something right.
“No? Funny, to me, it did. When you talked about your sister, Steve, you were so sad about it, I mean. You’ve lost your family to do what you do.”
Steve shakes his head, sending droplets of water crashing on Danny’s bare arms. He doesn’t believe this, he can’t believe this, but he’s never thought of it that way. Everything is associated with his mother’s death.
“It’s just. If my mom didn’t die...”
“You could have come back, Steve. You stayed away. And now we’ve got this and we can’t beat the clock. I feel like I’m running against the whole world here, trying to keep you and memories of you for a little longer every time I get to see you. Because you’re always going to leave again. I can say everything I want, and I can fight all I want, I can battle time and pray for it to stop ticking away, you’re still leaving, every time.”
Steve looks away, glaring at the ocean for good measure. He knows he shouldn’t feel angry, but he can’t help it, the feeling churning away in his gut, clawing at his heart and at his head. He feels like they’ve had this same conversation a million times already, even though they haven’t.
“Danny, I never asked this of you.”
Danny tilts his head back to the sun and Steve can see how tight his jaw is clenched, how the muscles move under the skin in frustration and contained anger. Steve’s stomach is twisted with hurt and doubts, questions he can’t answer himself, doesn’t want to answer himself. Maybe his dad would have let him come back? Maybe he could have. Maybe his life could be completely different than it is now. Maybe. He doesn’t know anymore, feeling like a lost kid, sixteen again and looking at all those faces telling him how sorry they are at his mother’s funeral. Like he doesn’t know who he is and what he wants anymore.
The only thing he knows for sure is how much he wants Danny, and it makes him ache, on a daily basis when he’s on base or on a ship or in a mission. When he’s supposed to think about nothing but this job, Danny still insidiously sneaks inside Steve’s thoughts and stays there. Steve has learned how to work with it.
“It’s not the point, Steve, fuck. I’m not blaming you, okay? I’m just saying, I wish. I wish we had more time. You never asked me to stay, and I did. I wouldn’t ask you to stay either, Steve. I made my choice, but maybe at some point you should think about the choice you have to make.”
---
Danny’s eyes are tired. He’s the one leaving, for the first time since they’ve started this whole thing, for the first time Danny is the one walking away from Steve. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to, in the set of his jaw and the twist of his mouth, the dim light in his eyes, full of clouds and unsaid words that Steve wants to pull away from Danny, tear them away from him so Steve can see once again the bright smile and hear the easygoing laughter. He wonders if Danny’s truly happy, if this whole thing they’re doing together, if his falling in love with Steve isn’t truthfully wrecking him, breaking him.
But then Danny steps forward, lets go of his walking cane and wraps his arms around Steve’s middle, face buried in Steve’s neck, his breaths long and slow, eyelashes fluttering against Steve’s skin. Steve holds him, one arm tight across Danny’s shoulders and the other around his waist.
“I’ll miss you.”
Steve can barely breathe, let alone think. He’s a ball of nerve endings and repressed emotions and he shivers, the hairs on his arms and at the back of his neck standing on end at Danny’s whispered confession, the words they’ve never said before.
“Me too.”
Danny pulls back, raising an eyebrow at Steve, almost amused, a little disbelieving. Steve grins.
“I will.”
“Good.”
Danny smiles too, and tugs Steve down, fingers pressing at the back of his head. Steve leans in willingly, eyes closing a second before his mouth meets Danny’s, at first brief, dry presses of lips, quickly turning into more, because they both know it’s their last chance for a while, their last moments together until Steve manages to wrangle some more free time. Steve doesn’t like to say the words, and having done it a few times doesn’t make it any easier, so he can only hope that his kisses will go a little way to let Danny how exactly this is not pleasing him.
Danny pulls away first, keeping his eyes closed and his forehead against Steve’s cheek. Steve presses his fingers in Danny’s side, tucking his hand there, wanting so badly to just stay, forget about the whole fucking world. Neither of them can, but every time they have to say goodbye Steve goes through the same thought process, the same slow swell of emotions that tip over the walls he’s build around them a few hours after they’ve each gone their own way.
“I should go.”
“Yeah. Don’t go missing your plane.”
“That would be a shame. I’d have to stay here with you.”
“The hardship.”
“Hmm.”
They both smile again, the ache eased by easy kisses and promises of more. In a while maybe, in months from now, but still, more, at some point. And maybe - maybe that’s why they work, maybe it’s because they see each other so little that it makes it this intense. But Steve still wants to know if it’d be the same if he was around more, if he stayed close to Danny. Would they get on each other’s nerves, would they want to give up? Or would they work like they do now, passionate and a little crazy when it comes to each other?
Steve wants to know, he does, and yet he can’t. It’s bound to break his heart one of these days.
“Okay, okay, I’m going.”
Danny pulls himself away from Steve, grabs his cane and his bag, takes a deep breath before giving Steve another look, another smile.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, okay?”
Steve’s smile is crooked but behind the mask of his face he’s crumbling.
“Easy.”
Danny chuckles, short of breath, sounding hollow. He grips Steve’s fingers after shouldering his bag, squeezes, lets go.
“Bye, Steve.”
“Bye.”
tailoredshirt betaed this for me, yay! Thanks to my usual suspects =D. I am terribly tired so I am going to go to sleep now, but I hope you enjoy! Getting close to the end you guyyyyyyyys.Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
January 2009
It took a lot of careful planning, three pre-paid, untraceable sim-cards, and three cheap phones that Steve tossed as soon as he could during missions, no communication during his time on base or on a ship, but they managed. When Steve lands in Hawaii, he goes straight to his hotel and checks in, takes long enough to deposit his bags and he’s gone again, breathing in the sea air and the moist warmth of Honolulu. He hasn’t even told his dad he is in for a week.
As soon as he finds one, Steve slinks inside an internet cafe, a dingy little store on a street corner with dusty old, loud computers that have seen better days. Steve gets himself settled and quickly creates the most random email address he can on the most random service he can find, and sends a nondescript email to Danny, hotel name and hotel room number and how long he’s here for. He could probably relax and let himself add a few more things, but he’s too fucking terrified for that, he’s too chicken shit for that.
Steve checks the time and makes a rapid calculation after he’s hit send, if only to know if he should stick around because Danny will be awake and able to check his emails or not. It’s a possibility he is still up, still around, so Steve waits. He waits half an hour and when he gets no answer, Steve gives up, pays for the time and leaves the internet cafe.
He spends the day getting reacquainted with his island, this place he once called home. Everything has changed, from the way people look at him – even those who used to call him 5-0, call him Steve, never looked at him like he was just another haole invading their land. But now that’s all he is, and he’s lost the connection he once felt with the island, he feels as foreign to it as people think he is.
He didn’t think it’d hurt as much as it does, and when he goes for a run in the Ala Moana beach park he avoids clusters of people, ducks away from view. He feels like an intruder even though he’s spent 16 years here, and it makes him angry, suddenly, to feel shunned by people he used to call his, now talking Pidgin in front of him as if he can’t understand. He would hurl insults in the language at them, show them just how wrong they are and just how much he has a right to be here as they do, but it’d feel hollow, a shallow victory when he doesn’t even have the guts to go and visit his father, the man that made Oahu home for Steve.
Steve still can’t quite put out the fire in his heart, feelings clawing at his stomach in a way he wouldn’t have let happen a few years ago. He’s getting soft with the years, he thinks, or maybe. Maybe he’s just letting himself live a little harder. And he knows who to blame for this, small and loud and abrasive, only taking Steve’s shit when he wants to, when he decides it’ll make things easier for him.
Steve’s not stupid, not as stunted as he’d like to be sometimes. He knows very well that all these things that keep on opening up his chest, his random desires to see his sister and his father, to ask him if he stopped loving them after their mother died, to let it all out, all those things he’s kept to himself for so long because it was easier to hide from feelings than deal with them, he knows all of it is because of Danny. Danny and all his feelings and his bold choice to wait on Steve, to be with him, even if it’s only a few days twice a year. Danny and his smiles and his lack of questions, his willingness to coax Steve out of his shell, slowly, moment after moment. And Steve is scared when he’s alone, he’s scared of getting his heart broken and being unable to do anything about it, because if Danny decides to leave him, Steve will not be able to stop his world from caving in on itself, he will not be able not to tear down everyone and everything in despair.
And there is nothing he can do about it. Steve knows it’ll happen one day, one of these days, Danny will go, leave. Maybe he won’t get on a plane, from Newark to Honolulu Airport. Maybe Steve will never see him again, starting now - Steve clenches his jaw at the thought, forcing it away from his head with a strong shake that sends the drops of sweat clinging to his hair flying around. Steve stops running; turns towards the water, his running shoes digging in the sand as he takes in the breathtaking colors of the ocean, laid out in front of him, his for the taking.
Even better than a meditating position, Steve finds himself dropping his shirt in the sand, toeing off his shoes and socks. Old habits die hard, and Steve’s never been one to go anywhere near a beach in Hawaii without a pair of swimming trunks close, so he put them on before going running, not certain of how his work out would end.
The water’s fresh and feels so soothing on Steve’s skin when he dives in he could almost cry, remembering why he’d loved this place so much. Swimming had always been an escape, a way to let the world fade away, to allow his thoughts to drift off. So Steve swims. He swims until his arms and legs and heart burn and he swallows sea water to stop tasting the bitter longing at the back of his throat, his head clearing slowly, until he can start feeling the excitement about seeing Danny again fill him up, tinged with just enough desperation to make Steve try to swim faster back to shore.
He dries himself in the sun, enjoying the quiet white noise in his head now, not so agitated anymore, the ocean inside him swelling and moving slowly, waves crashing against his ribs and lapping at his heart. For now Danny’s still around.
---
Steve can’t sleep. He keeps on twisting his foot in the crisp white sheets of the bed, untwisting and then doing it again, listening to the low rumble of the rare cars driving by and the reassuring noises of the ocean, his fingers tapping an unwritten melody over his bare chest. The window by his left is close enough that, if he reached out he could open it and let the sea breeze help him breathe, and Steve contemplates it, turning his head towards the window and watching the brightly lit night sky, before sighing to himself, turning away again.
He feels like a teenager, bored and lazy and bursting at the seams with things to do and say and no one to do them with or tell them to. He wants Danny here, it’s his second day here alone and he’s starting to allow the fear back in.
The knock on his door startles him - it’s late and he hasn’t ordered any room service. Cautiously, Steve throws a look to his duffel, in which his weapon is safely tucked, and heads to the door, tugging on jeans on his way, leaving them open. He jerks the door open, throwing a look outside before opening it wide, his heart kicking into a mad dance as he takes in Danny, hair carefully back over his head and a bag slung over his shoulder, leaning on a cane.
Steve doesn’t even comment on it as he makes way for Danny to step inside without a word, closing the door gently. It takes Danny about two milliseconds after the door is shut to drop the bag and the cane and fall into Steve’s eager arms, his stubble rough over Steve’s skin. Steve holds him, fingers pressing Danny’s shirt into his skin at the small of his back, his other arm around Danny’s shoulders as he leans down, buries his nose in Danny’s neck, closes his eyes, breathes him in. Steve moves just enough to kiss Danny’s collarbone, feeling Danny’s fingers curling into the belt loops of his jeans.
“Training to become a pimp, Danny?”
“Tore my ACL.”
They’re whispering into each other’s skin, and Steve’s smile turns into a frown, but Danny doesn’t let him add anything just yet, cutting off all thought processes when he moves enough to be able to kiss Steve, a series of brief, small kisses that make Steve’s stomach bottom out and chase for more, forcing the last kiss to deepen with a hand fisted in Danny’s hair and a growl he doesn’t even let out on purpose. He brushes his thumb along Danny’s cheekbone when he lets go of his hair, feeling the lines around Danny’s eyes and around his smile when he moves his fingers. He feels tired but he tastes so good Steve can’t move away, his body taking control over his brain, until Danny wrenches his mouth away. The way he pants and digs his fingers in Steve’s ribs tell Steve that Danny didn’t mind the forceful kiss, but his eyes are heavy-lidded, a little dimmer than usual.
“I’m dead on my feet, Steve. 10 hour flight and I barely slept and I’m jetlagged and can we just be horizontal right now? My knee’s killing me and I just want to curl up into you and sleep for a day.”
Steve searches Danny’s eyes for a moment, trying to decide if there’s anything else here that Danny’s not telling him, but when he can’t see anything, he nods.
“Okay.”He forces himself away from Danny and crouches to grab his bag and cane, handing over the cane to Danny, watching him hobble to the bedroom of the suite, reminding him of his own injury the year before. When he joins Danny in the bedroom, he finds him on the bed, sitting up against the headboard, only wearing his boxers and shirt now.
“By the way, can I tell you that you look indecently good in those jeans?”
Steve looks down at himself, tugs on the waistband of his pants lightly.
“Really?”
“Fuck, Steve, you have no idea. You should wear jeans more. Not that cargoes don’t suit you, but there is a quality to your thighs encased in jeans that is quite incomparable.”
“For someone so very tired, you talk a lot.”
Danny shrugs, the look in his eyes so lustful Steve feels it hit him like a ton of bricks, or a punch in the gut, like capsizing on a big wave on the North Shore. Steve lets the jeans drop off his hips, stepping out of them when they pool around his ankles, and then he crawls over the bed, kissing Danny’s thigh when it’s in reach, feeling the soft fuzzy hairs tickling his lips. Danny relaxes, his hand falling to the top of Steve’s head, fingers playing with slightly longer hair than usual.
“No time for a haircut, babe?”
“Been busy.”
“I bet.”
“Am busy now.”
“Told you I just want to sleep.”
“Yeah, but then you looked at me like you wanted nothing more than for me to suck your cock, and I thought, oh well, this doesn’t involve a lot of work for him, he should be okay with it. But if you’re not...”
Danny’s eyes flash, and his fingers tighten for an instant.
“Oh no, please, don’t stop on my account. Just don’t blame me if I fall asleep.”
Steve grins, mouthing at Danny’s half-hard cock through his underwear, long licks that make Danny arch a little.
“Don’t think you will, somehow.”
Danny chuckles, shaking his head as he raises his hips enough for Steve to tug his underwear down. He’s only had so many times with Danny to improve himself in the art of sucking cock, but Steve has yet to hear one complaint from Danny, so he guesses he’s doing something good enough for his New Jersey loudmouth, at least.
Steve runs his hands over Danny’s stomach, feeling him breathe in and out slowly, seemingly trying to keep himself in check as Steve runs his tongue along Danny’s now hard cock, up and down, slowly, fingers cupping Danny’s balls, his free hand pressing Danny against the bed.
“You, you look -” Steve looks up, wrapping his lips around the tip of Danny’s cock, flicking his tongue over it as he gives Danny his best innocent eyes. “Jesus.”
Steve lets go of Danny’s cock, blinking as bites the smile off his lips.
“I look what?”
“Positively obscene.”
“Couldn’t your vocabulary disappear when I’m doing this? You could offend a man.”
“Hey, my vocabulary is all I have.”
“That and a mean right hook.”
“Well, yeah. But I’m not going to use that right now.”
“Good. Now shut up.”
Danny huffs out a laugh when Steve dips his head back down, but it ends on a moan because Steve is taking his cock as deep as he can without feeling sick, twirling his tongue around it and hollowing his cheeks, sucking with enthusiasm made even fiercer when he hears Danny gasp, his hand slam against the wooden headboard of the bed. He’s tucking his stomach in, rolling his hips under Steve, and the small keening noise he’s making are sure to drive Steve crazy, his own erection aching painfully in his underwear, weeping for attention.
Steve slides a hand inside his boxers and grabs his cock, fisting it tight and jerking it hard, making his moves sloppy, too wet and not coordinated well enough with Danny’s small thrusts, but it works well enough anyway because Danny is sounding more and more desperate, tipping on the edge, his fingers pulling at Steve’s hair.
“Hey, hey - not f-fair, wanna see you.”
Danny bends over, reaches out and tugs at Steve’s underwear, enough for Steve to get the message and pull them down enough to free his cock, putting himself on show. Danny moans again, keeping his hand on Steve’s back. Steve moves his free hand to Danny’s hip, down to his ass, feeling the muscles contract with every little thrust up, and Steve closes his eyes, feeling dizzy with need.
He’s being reckless, doing this while Danny was intent on simply going to sleep, but fuck, they have 5 days and Danny’s more than just a little into it right now, so Steve doesn’t feel that guilty about it, easing the pressure a little, pulling back until only the tip of Danny’s cock is in his mouth.
“Shit, Steve -”
Steve feels Danny’s thigh tremble against his shoulder and he knows Danny’s done there, his muscles giving up as his orgasm hits him, and he comes with a cry and his back arching, his hand once again keeping Steve in place, not that Steve would have moved anyway. He swallows around Danny a little greedily, pulling at his own cock harder and harder until he’s gone as well, pushing himself off Danny’s softening erection to groan against his stomach, the fine sheen of sweat sticking to Steve’s skin.
“Jesus Christ. Well at least I’m going to sleep like a log after this.”
Steve holds on to Danny, sliding into a lying position, his belly sticky and it’d be uncomfortable and impossible if his head wasn’t on Danny’s stomach, if Danny wasn’t carding his fingers through his hair softly.
“Am glad I helped.”
“Just so you know, I’m not getting on my knees this week.”
Steve spares a look down to Danny’s legs, his injured knee, and then it hits him.
“Shit, that means no hike, too, doesn’t it?”
“Hike - what do you mean, hike? Of course it means no hike, did you plan on us going hiking?”
Steve turns his face to Danny’s, nodding.
“Yeah. Wanted to show you the petroglyphs. Nevermind, then. We’ll find something else to do. How did this happen?”
“I. I’ve been doing a lot of running and jumping around lately. That, plus the years of training and the muscular mass being a strain on my ligaments and shit, there you go.”
“Is it related to Vince again?”
Danny’s face closes, but Steve could read through it anywhere, anytime. He sighs, sliding off Danny and letting the two of them get settled on the bed. Danny slides to a lying position, facing Steve while Steve holds his head up on his hand and elbow.
“Danny, what about Grace?”
“What about her? Who do you think I do this for? A kid costs a lot of money, Steve.”
“Yeah, and what good will that be the day you get shot?”
“Pot, meet kettle.”
“I don’t have a kid, Danny!”
“No, but you’ve got me!”
Steve falls to his back, staring at the ceiling again, his eyes following the patterns the lights of the outside make on the white paint job. Danny has said the words in an urgent, furious whisper, snapping his mouth shut afterwards, as if shocked with himself. But fuck, maybe he’s right - he spends so much time worrying about Danny leaving him because of this very reason, without even thinking about the way Danny feels.
It doesn’t make Danny working with the Mafia any better, but it’s enough to make Steve feel like an asshole anyway. He reaches out, his hand gripping Danny’s, tight and scared between their bodies as they lie in silence, fingers entwined and breathing slowing.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I get it -”
“Do you, though?” Danny turns his head towards Steve, and Steve looks back, unable not to. “Do you really get it? Because I don’t think you do, Steve. I think your sense of priorities and what’s right and what’s wrong is utterly fucked up and you think you can judge all you want when really, you should take a good, long look at yourself. At us, what’s going on here. Because fuck it if I don’t love you like the stupid fuck I am and I’m not sure you get that. I’m not sure if you get how fucking terrified I am every time I watch the news.”
Steve keeps on looking right at Danny, keeps on squeezing his fingers, but his heart has stopped beating and he’s there and elsewhere entirely, in a corner of his mind jumping and dancing and another, cowering in fear of all those feelings assaulting him on a daily basis, making him less sharp and focused, making him more crazy and passionate. Fuck, Danny said it, Danny unleashed that beast inside Steve’s heart and stomach and head and Steve’s not sure he’ll ever manage to come back from it.
“Danny -”
“No, no, you’re going to apologize again, I don’t want to hear that, I just want to sleep now.”
“Danny.”
“Don’t apologize, I swear to God I’ll punch you in the face.”
“I love you, too.”
---
The North Shore waves have always impressed Steve. As a kid, they’d looked like mountains he wanted to climb, whenever Mamo brought him and Mary around. So tall, looming over the shore, casting shadows and spitting water over everyone who dared coming close, they’d been giants Steve was fascinated with.
As a teenager they’d been challenges, the bigger the better. The more bruises and cuts he’d get from being thrown against the reef, the more satisfied he was. Maybe it was just his masochistic streak, but through it all it was as if he’d made his peace with the overpowering waves. When Steve left the island they had an understanding.
And now he’s back here, in front of them, sitting in the bed of the rented truck he and Danny have been using to visit Oahu, and they seem to be calling out to him like an old friend would open their arms. Steve is enthralled, looking at the waves, sitting next to Danny, and wondering if this is the essence of belonging.
“I’ve seen pretty traumatic shit in my life, Steve, but this is just. How is this even real? How tall are those waves?”
“Most of the time, between ten and twenty-five feet. There are some forty, fifty feet records, though. What traumatic shit?”
Danny handwaves it, but when Steve tears his eyes away from the ocean, he sees how closed Danny’s face is, memories like clouds in the brightness of his eyes. Steve wishes he had the power to make them all disappear.
“You know. Shit.”
Steve bumps his shoulder with Danny’s, not pushing further, even though the you’re gonna tell me it’s classified? is burning at the tip of his tongue. He swallows it down and shakes his head, fingers brushing Danny’s before he hops off the bed of the truck, leaning against it instead. He spares a glance at the generic blue cooler near the cabin.
He’s still wondering what traumatic things Danny has seen, when suddenly it hits him - New York in September 2001. Danny had to have been there, close enough to witness the towers collapsing. Maybe he’d lost family members, friends in the tragedy. Steve feels a shiver run through him, down along his spine, despite the very warm weather.
“So you wanna go swimming?”
“Surely you’re joking. I was made for boxing rings and avoiding tall freaky guys while playing ice hockey, Steve, not swimming.”
Steve grins at Danny over his shoulder, crossing his arms over his chest. Danny’s eyes are soft and amused when he looks back at Steve, but there’s still something tense there, making Steve wish he could reach out a hand and squeeze Danny’s thigh lightly.
“You mean you don’t know how to swim?”
“I know how to swim. I can swim, Steven, I just don’t like it. It’s the whole push-ups thing all over again, you know? You remember?”
Steve hopes he’s conveying enough with the look he sends Danny, because he’s not about to say these words aloud.
“I remember.”
Danny has the decency to blush a little, looking down and away with a grin that looks a little smug. Steve rolls his eyes and smiles to himself.
“Hey, what’s in that? Did you bring beers? Because if you did, I might let you do that thing you talked about last night.”
Steve opens his mouth as he watches Danny point his thumb towards the cooler, feeling a flush creep up his neck. It’s not beer, and he’s not sure he wants Danny to go looking in the cooler, but it’s too late, he’s already sliding back and grabbing the handle of the cooler to bring it closer to him, pushing the lid off.
“Danny -”
“Champagne, Steve? Did you want to celebrate something?”
Steve sighs when he looks at the bottle Danny is holding up, fat drops of water running down the long neck, over Danny’s fingers. It’s nice Champagne, Steve googled it and all, and he had a perfectly plausible explanation behind the buying of that bottle - now, looking at Danny’s curious smile, he’s not so sure. Danny’s going to laugh and laugh.
“No...”
“Oh, come on, out with it, McGarrett, you even got the proper glasses and all. You spoil me.”
Danny puts the flutes next to him on the bed of the truck, going to uncork the bottle of Champagne, letting Steve to ponder whether or not he should lie. But fuck it if he hasn’t been lying to Danny too much in the past. Now - now it feels stupid to not say the truth, as stupid as it is.
“I thought. I just thought, you know, we’re here and I’ve missed all your birthdays and all the Christmases and New Years’ Eves and I don’t know. I wanted to celebrate the fact that - I missed all this but we’ve got now.”
Danny looks up sharply from pulling at the bottle of Champagne, and the cork goes flying unexpectedly, and Danny yelps in surprise as Champagne drips over his hand and his shorts. He slides off the bed of the truck, leaving the bottle next to the glasses, turning back to Steve, apparently trying to act like the last 30 seconds didn’t happen. Steve is biting his smile down, listening to the crash and swell of the waves behind him.
“So basically you’re saying that you’re a big sap and a romantic, and you’ve been holding out on me.”
“I - no, that’s not exactly how I’d put it.”
“It’s how I put it. Fuck’s sake , Steve, if I’d known. You need to tell me these things, you know?”
“I will. Now I will.”
Danny rolls his eyes and squeezes Steve’s wrist with two fingers, thumb pressing against Steve’s pulse for just a second before pulling back. It makes Steve dry-swallow, to realize he doesn’t have to ask for Danny not to show anything out of place when they’re outside the confines of their hotel room. They’re alone here, them and the ocean, the few surfers dotting the beach too far away to pay attention to them, but still, Danny doesn’t step forward for a hug, or tug Steve into a kiss, not here, and Steve is incredibly thankful of it.
“Relax, Steve.”
Danny offers him an indulgent smile, and Steve realizes then that he’s almost in parade rest, his muscles tense and his fingers twisted around one another at his back. He shakes himself loose at Danny’s words, scratching the back of his neck and feeling that flush creep back up.
Danny turns back to the truck to fill up the glasses and he passes one to Steve once they’re full enough. They clink their flutes together and Danny grins.
“To our birthdays these past four years, then.”
“And Christmases.”
“And New Years’ Eves.”
---
Steve rolls to his side, fitting himself against Danny’s back, bending his knees to Danny’s legs, his body following the lines of Danny’s, the skin under his lips hot and soft. Danny grumbles halfheartedly, batting Steve’s hand away from his stomach, but Steve just presses it to Danny’s hip instead, fingers digging into the dip of Danny’s hipbone.
“Steeeeeve...”
“What?”
Danny rolls to his back, his eyes closed. Steve noses along the five-day beard that grows thicker every time Steve looks at Danny , going down to nip at his jaw, smelling sweat and saliva and the smile on Danny’s lips when Steve gets there, tasting the crinkles at the corners of it, moving back up, kissing up Danny’s nose, along his cheekbone, to the corner of his eye.
“You realize not all of us are Navy SEALs that can survive without sleep and food for 132 hours without stopping.”
“Want breakfast?”
“I’m starving.”
Danny’s protesting, but his hands are still running up and down Steve’s sides, fingers counting ribs lazily. Steve’s heart is beating way too fast for such a slow, languid exploration. He wills himself to calm down, breathing in the reassuring smell of Danny’s skin, musk and sweat and skin and peaches, reminding himself that they have a few days left of this, of the two of them and trips around the island and nights and mornings like this, lazy and easy, comfortable.
“What do you want?”
“I want...I want pancakes with sugar and blueberries. And eggs. Sunny side-up. And bacon. Crispy but not burnt. And coffee. Mmm coffee.”
“I’m sure the hotel makes a mean Loco Moco.”
“A what? No, Steve, eggs and crispy bacon and pancakes. Possibly a bagel.”
Steve nibbles on Danny’s earlobe for all of a second, enough for Danny to arch into it and muffle a groan against his lips, though. Steve ignores the way his stomach flips when he pulls away. He orders breakfast quickly, a mountain of food for the two of them, which must look even worse for the staff, that still thinks he’s alone in the room. When he hangs up, he stays sitting by Danny’s lying, lazy form on the bed, fingers reaching out, grazing along Danny’s arm.
“How do you know about Hell Week? We eat, by the way.”
“I went on wikipedia. Rachel explained to me how and then I stole her laptop for ten minutes while pretending to make sure Gracie was sleeping.”
“Using your daughter now?”
“Nah, I did check. Anyway. That’s how I know about Hell Week. Before that I thought Hell Week was some stupid hazing on Greek row.”
“Well, it is that too. It’s similar.”
“Similar? Babe, no. Have you been to college? I’ve not done the whole Greek thing, but my friend Greg did, right ? And he told me about Hell Week, and it’s, you know, stupid shit, I don’t know, getting super drunk and doing stupid chores. It’s not sleep deprivation and 80% of the pledgers abandoning before the end.”
“It’s an elimination process. The strongest stay in the end. The worthiest. And I’ve been to Annapolis.”
Danny smiles, still not opening his eyes. He moves his arm a little until his palm is against Steve’s, sliding his fingers in between Steve’s. Steve gives it a thought, how different they look, once again one of those random moments where he wonders about the two of them, what people think when they see them walking side by side down the street.
“Man, that is such bullshit. But nevermind, I’m too hungry to argue anyway. And tired. My God, do you ever have enough?”
“Hey, can you blame me? I see you one week every 6 months, Danny.”
Danny opens his eyes at that, finally, and, using Steve’s grip on his hand, pulls himself up. He seems to be wanting to say a lot with his eyes, without having to actually say the words. Steve looks away, feeling suddenly embarrassed - he hadn’t meant it seriously, but now he feels stupid.
“Not blaming you.” Danny rests his chin on Steve’s shoulder, his words brushing against Steve’s neck, the hair curling at the nape, soft whispers of air against Steve’s skin. They lean against each other, shoulder to opposite shoulder, fingers tangled together over Steve’s lap. “Not blaming you, Steve. I was just teasing.”
Danny moves just enough to place a kiss on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve turns to him, bumping his nose against Danny’s forehead until he looks up, allows them to kiss. Steve isn’t ashamed of his hunger for Danny, not in these moments where it seems to be all that matters, everything that will ever matter.
“Okay. Danny -”
Danny stops him, his free hand framing Steve’s jaw, his thumb dragging over Steve’s bottom lip, pulling it down for an instant before releasing it, and Danny shakes his head, smiling. His eyes keep on traveling all over Steve’s face, but his eyes aren’t trying to decipher anything, the expression on Danny’s face telling Steve that he just knows. And it’d freak Steve out if it didn’t feel so stupidly right.
“Don’t. It’s okay. It’s not because we said some things recently that you have to repeat them all the time, okay? I know. I’ve known for a while, but you’re a bit slow.”
Steve huffs out a laugh, poking Danny’s side with his free hand. He wonders all the things Danny’s been sure of while Steve was torturing himself over his feelings. It feels almost unfair, but at the same time, he knows now what exactly he feels for Danny - fuck, he feels everything for Danny - and it won’t change a single thing when he’s back to base.
“I’m not slow.”
“Babe, please. It took you two years to tell me what you do for a living.”
Steve laughs again, pulling Danny closer a fraction, kissing him briefly, absolutely unable to help himself. He doesn’t want to ever be able to help himself, in those moments.
“Fair enough.”
---
Steve goes swimming every morning, because it’s habit and because it feels like coming home, the water embracing him and the exercise warming him up just right. He dries himself on the beach before going back to the hotel, usually to a freshly showered Danny and breakfast.
They have a day left in Hawaii and it feels way too short, now, it feels like letting go of Danny way too early, Steve’s not ready for it. And this morning, Danny is waiting for him by his towel, bare toes moving in the sand, ass sat in a groove and knees bent, an arm slung around them, a pair of sunglasses perched on the top of his head. He smiles when Steve jogs closer, but his eyes swipe appreciatively over Steve’s body, lingering for a few beats too long on Steve’s crotch - his black swimming trunks leave very little to the imagination, Steve would admit that.
Steve doesn’t say anything as he shakes himself like a puppy, enough to make Danny yelp and make Steve grin, before he grabs the towel, rubbing it over his face and hair before sitting next to Danny. Their arms brush - Danny’s skin is warm and sun-soaked where Steve’s is wet and fresh, feeling almost new. Steve’s fingers trace a scar curving around Danny’s elbow, but he refrains himself from asking, his gaze darting away.
“Morning.”
“I was curious as to what you see in this.”
“In what? Swimming?”
“Yeah. Swimming, the ocean, the taste of sea water on your tongue. You seem to enjoy it to a level that I’d consider extreme, seeing you made it your job and your life, so, I wondered.”
“How do you feel when you’re boxing, Danny?”
Danny shrugs one shoulder, still looking out at the ocean, squinting a little, but not enough for Steve to tell him to put the sunglasses on. His hair is still a little messy, looking like Danny only brushed his fingers through it before slipping out, and the blond strands look soft as they curl around the arms of the sunglasses, playing with the wind.
“I don’t know. I just feel - good, I guess. Like I belong there, at that exact moment I throw a punch, it’s like everything’s aligned and everything makes sense. I can forget about everything that’s fucked up and going wrong and - okay, I get it.”
Danny smiles, huffs out a chuckle, his big toe tracing a circle in the sand. Steve reaches out and digs his index finger in the middle of the circle, pulling it out after a second.
“We’re not that different, are we?”
Danny turns to look at Steve, cocking his head to the side a little, before looking back at the water lapping at the shore, the stark golden sand looking almost white under the sun, an almost shocking contrast to the blueness of the ocean. It’s blindingly beautiful, and it feels a little too much right now, too sharp, the light too bright, the world assaulting Steve’s senses.
“Guess not. You just gave up much more than I did.”
“It doesn’t feel like that.”
It doesn’t. Steve loves his job, loves his duty, loves being able to help, doing his part for the world and to make it right. He’s not stupid nor naive enough to think people won’t find ways to break what they build all the time, but he likes trying to make things better. It makes him feel good about himself, too, like he’s doing something right.
“No? Funny, to me, it did. When you talked about your sister, Steve, you were so sad about it, I mean. You’ve lost your family to do what you do.”
Steve shakes his head, sending droplets of water crashing on Danny’s bare arms. He doesn’t believe this, he can’t believe this, but he’s never thought of it that way. Everything is associated with his mother’s death.
“It’s just. If my mom didn’t die...”
“You could have come back, Steve. You stayed away. And now we’ve got this and we can’t beat the clock. I feel like I’m running against the whole world here, trying to keep you and memories of you for a little longer every time I get to see you. Because you’re always going to leave again. I can say everything I want, and I can fight all I want, I can battle time and pray for it to stop ticking away, you’re still leaving, every time.”
Steve looks away, glaring at the ocean for good measure. He knows he shouldn’t feel angry, but he can’t help it, the feeling churning away in his gut, clawing at his heart and at his head. He feels like they’ve had this same conversation a million times already, even though they haven’t.
“Danny, I never asked this of you.”
Danny tilts his head back to the sun and Steve can see how tight his jaw is clenched, how the muscles move under the skin in frustration and contained anger. Steve’s stomach is twisted with hurt and doubts, questions he can’t answer himself, doesn’t want to answer himself. Maybe his dad would have let him come back? Maybe he could have. Maybe his life could be completely different than it is now. Maybe. He doesn’t know anymore, feeling like a lost kid, sixteen again and looking at all those faces telling him how sorry they are at his mother’s funeral. Like he doesn’t know who he is and what he wants anymore.
The only thing he knows for sure is how much he wants Danny, and it makes him ache, on a daily basis when he’s on base or on a ship or in a mission. When he’s supposed to think about nothing but this job, Danny still insidiously sneaks inside Steve’s thoughts and stays there. Steve has learned how to work with it.
“It’s not the point, Steve, fuck. I’m not blaming you, okay? I’m just saying, I wish. I wish we had more time. You never asked me to stay, and I did. I wouldn’t ask you to stay either, Steve. I made my choice, but maybe at some point you should think about the choice you have to make.”
---
Danny’s eyes are tired. He’s the one leaving, for the first time since they’ve started this whole thing, for the first time Danny is the one walking away from Steve. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to, in the set of his jaw and the twist of his mouth, the dim light in his eyes, full of clouds and unsaid words that Steve wants to pull away from Danny, tear them away from him so Steve can see once again the bright smile and hear the easygoing laughter. He wonders if Danny’s truly happy, if this whole thing they’re doing together, if his falling in love with Steve isn’t truthfully wrecking him, breaking him.
But then Danny steps forward, lets go of his walking cane and wraps his arms around Steve’s middle, face buried in Steve’s neck, his breaths long and slow, eyelashes fluttering against Steve’s skin. Steve holds him, one arm tight across Danny’s shoulders and the other around his waist.
“I’ll miss you.”
Steve can barely breathe, let alone think. He’s a ball of nerve endings and repressed emotions and he shivers, the hairs on his arms and at the back of his neck standing on end at Danny’s whispered confession, the words they’ve never said before.
“Me too.”
Danny pulls back, raising an eyebrow at Steve, almost amused, a little disbelieving. Steve grins.
“I will.”
“Good.”
Danny smiles too, and tugs Steve down, fingers pressing at the back of his head. Steve leans in willingly, eyes closing a second before his mouth meets Danny’s, at first brief, dry presses of lips, quickly turning into more, because they both know it’s their last chance for a while, their last moments together until Steve manages to wrangle some more free time. Steve doesn’t like to say the words, and having done it a few times doesn’t make it any easier, so he can only hope that his kisses will go a little way to let Danny how exactly this is not pleasing him.
Danny pulls away first, keeping his eyes closed and his forehead against Steve’s cheek. Steve presses his fingers in Danny’s side, tucking his hand there, wanting so badly to just stay, forget about the whole fucking world. Neither of them can, but every time they have to say goodbye Steve goes through the same thought process, the same slow swell of emotions that tip over the walls he’s build around them a few hours after they’ve each gone their own way.
“I should go.”
“Yeah. Don’t go missing your plane.”
“That would be a shame. I’d have to stay here with you.”
“The hardship.”
“Hmm.”
They both smile again, the ache eased by easy kisses and promises of more. In a while maybe, in months from now, but still, more, at some point. And maybe - maybe that’s why they work, maybe it’s because they see each other so little that it makes it this intense. But Steve still wants to know if it’d be the same if he was around more, if he stayed close to Danny. Would they get on each other’s nerves, would they want to give up? Or would they work like they do now, passionate and a little crazy when it comes to each other?
Steve wants to know, he does, and yet he can’t. It’s bound to break his heart one of these days.
“Okay, okay, I’m going.”
Danny pulls himself away from Steve, grabs his cane and his bag, takes a deep breath before giving Steve another look, another smile.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, okay?”
Steve’s smile is crooked but behind the mask of his face he’s crumbling.
“Easy.”
Danny chuckles, short of breath, sounding hollow. He grips Steve’s fingers after shouldering his bag, squeezes, lets go.
“Bye, Steve.”
“Bye.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-06-29 10:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-29 11:41 pm (UTC)You know, the first part of this chapter, before Danny gets to Hawaii, brought to mind Romeo and Juliet (the old movie version with...olivia de havilad?) so strongly -- just without the overt tragedy. Steve's thinking that Danny might not show, might have moved on. It just said to me: Be with me. Never forsake me. I'll die if you were to leave me.
The desperation was just so poignant.
I'm glad after all this time, and no time, they were able to express the depth of their feelings. Call it what it is. The champagne celebration -- I thought of those stories where the two loves can only meet one evening out of the whole year when the stars align and reality ceases to impose. Or that saying that a fish could love a bird but where would they live? All of that.
Bravo on another great chapter in my favorite story. I don't know how you're going to wrap it all up in one more chapter...
no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:32 am (UTC)Thank you so much for the comment, again, I love them so very much <3333.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 12:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 12:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:33 am (UTC)...actually, hm, it is bittersweet, isn't it?
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Date: 2011-06-30 12:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 01:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 02:37 am (UTC)“It’s not the point, Steve, fuck. I’m not blaming you, okay? I’m just saying, I wish. I wish we had more time. You never asked me to stay, and I did. I wouldn’t ask you to stay either, Steve. I made my choice, but maybe at some point you should think about the choice you have to make.”
That says it all. For all that Steve is suffering in his quiet desperation, he's very lucky. He's never had to ask, and over four years Danny's been indemnifying the choice he's been making to leave by always being there when he gets back. Danny has been true. To everything that was felt but not said. Steve hasn't been forced to make his choice to leave the ultimate one. Four years he's been lucky. No ultimatums. One day, he will certainly have to make a choice, and it will be irredeemable. I wonder if he's ready. ;)
no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 02:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 06:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 06:28 am (UTC)I get so stupidly happy when I see an update pop up. When this story ends I'm gonna have a "months and miles" shaped hole in my heart. Just FYI ;) CANNOT WAIT to see how you conclude this amazing story!
no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 10:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 10:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 01:18 pm (UTC)The passion between Steve and Danny just jumps off the page and Steve's right that Danny's way more in touch with his feelings then Steve is and of course Danny would be the first to bring up how much they love each other, but Steve's slowly coming around.
And I like what Danny said that Steve needs to make some choices to--he can reach out to his dad and Mary and he can make the choice to be with Danny. He just has to choose to.
I can't believe there's only one more chapter left--I don't want this story to ever end :):)
no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 01:21 pm (UTC)The last chapter is all about Steve making choices...=D
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Date: 2011-06-30 01:25 pm (UTC)Can't wait for the next chapter. :D
no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 01:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 01:27 pm (UTC)But my favorite bits would have to be the champagne; and Danny getting Rachel to help him figure out how to use the intarwebz so he could research what Steve went through.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 01:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 01:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 01:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 04:00 pm (UTC)Oh you two and your feelings. I want to smish them :'3
no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 05:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 07:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 07:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 08:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 08:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 08:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 09:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-30 11:08 pm (UTC)please, don't worry too much about the final chapter, I am confident it will be brilliant ♥
no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 08:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 12:41 am (UTC)My heart breaks a little every time Steve leaves, but when they see each other again, it's all sweet & delicious (& DAMN hot too!).. I just want to cuddle them both!
I can hear your Steve & Danny in my head as I'm reading and they sound right, you have their voices down really well.
Can't wait for the last part, I'm sure it'll be just as lovely/angsty/hot as the other parts! This is a story that I WILL be saving & reading over & over :)
no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 08:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 04:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 08:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 09:29 pm (UTC)I've read this chapter at least four times, because I keep coming to the post to write a comment and then I'm totally sucked back in again.
These characters, the way you're writing them ... they just ache for each other. And it's so true to who they are outside of this AU and yet so much more.
Gah ... can't wait for the rest but I really hate for the end to come :)
no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 09:33 pm (UTC)