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delicataleSteve goes undercover as a cage fighter, Danny can only sit back and watch. Looked over and made better by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tailoredshirt! <3
“Look, if you really are going to do this, do me a favor.”
Steve looks up from the light sparring gloves he’s putting on, his eyes slightly crazy, which doesn’t do anything to calm Danny’s nerves about this. It feels like a terrible idea. If only Chin and Kono weren’t working on trying to gather up Parker’s associates on Maui, maybe they would have helped Danny out, here. Only, maybe not Kono.
“What?”
“Lose the shirt.”
Steve opens his mouth, closes it, starts smiling as he raises an eyebrow. Danny sighs.
“Not like that, doofus. Lose the shirt, because you know there are no rules in there, right? And a shirt is way too easily grabbed onto.”
“Danny, I can defend myself.”
“I know you can. I asked you to do it as a favor.”
“Hmm.”
Danny resists the urge to roll his eyes, too worried to find the situation funny. He knows that Parker is a big fan of cage fighting and of sponsoring some really good fighters, so it makes sense to send Steve in the lion’s den, but that doesn’t mean Danny has to like it one bit. Because he doesn’t. Not one bit.
He scrapes his foot against the floor of the Camaro just as Steve chucks his sleeveless shirt over his head and onto Danny’s lap. Danny’s hands curl into it.
“There you go.”
“Thank you.”
“Okay, going in now.”
They won’t have any way to communicate, not when Steve is getting himself into a close contact fight. They’ll have to do without it, and it’s yet another thing Danny isn’t happy about.
“Right. I’ll keep my eyes on you and Parker. And, Steve?”
Steve has the door of the car open, peering out into the darkness. “Yes?”
Danny feels the words stick to his teeth like molasses. “Never mind.”
Steve jumps out, the door closing behind him as silently as he can make it.
;;
Danny watches, completely enthralled by the images on the HD laptop screen on the other seat of the car. The camera could be better quality, but the angle is great to see what’s going on inside the cage, and with the sound pouring into his ears, he feels as if he’s almost in the room with all these people shouting and cheering and clapping, waving dollar bills in the air for bets. Danny tries his best to swallow the worry, it won’t do Steve any good. He can take care of himself, Danny knows that, but not thinking about how Steve could end up beaten to a pulp on the floor of the cage is not easy.
Steve gets himself into position, turning around his opponent before sliding closer to land a punch. Danny wants to find it disgusting, but he remembers being younger and being angry and finding solace in places like this, hidden in warehouses and basements in Jersey. He remembers the feel of driving bare knuckles in someone’s jaw or nose, and feeling the bones crack under his hands. He wants to be against it now, because he’s got a little girl and he can’t condone violence and all that, but at the same time, he can’t quite begrudge Steve this, the enthusiasm with which Steve is throwing himself at his opponent.
He has seen Steve on the edge of a breakdown a few times now, and Danny can’t deny that letting Steve beat some Russian bodybuilder on steroids will probably do the him some good. Call it cathartic, therapeutic maybe.
For Danny, watching this on the screen feels almost surreal, but more than anything else, it’s absolutely transfixing. He can’t look away from Steve, his skin glistening with sweat in the artificial lights of the room, his fists connecting with the Russian’s ribs, upper arms, neck, jaw, before Steve sends a kick straight to his stomach, losing his footing for a second, slipping on blood and other bodily fluids. Danny hisses, leaning in closer to the laptop.
The room around them is deafening in Danny’s earphones, telling him just how much he’s not the only one this fight is making a little wild. Steve charges into his opponent, pushing a shoulder in the taller man’s solar plexus, pushing him right up against the cage with a cry that makes Danny shiver.
It shouldn’t be hot, but truth is, it completely is, and Danny slides a finger in the knot of his tie, loosening it a little and undoing the button underneath, his eyes going from Steve’s tattooed arms to the muscles flexing in his thigh, made obvious by the black shorts he’s wearing, to his bare feet, specked with blood. The Russian manages a blow to the side of Steve’s face, sending him reeling and causing an uproar in the crowd, and blood gushes from Steve’s now split eyebrow, and Danny dry-swallows.
The sounds are not helping, either, grunts and naked flesh slapping against naked flesh - he’s pretty sure he’s not the only one around with a hard-on. Luckily, the Russian is ugly enough that Danny’s not going to start jerking off. He can wait for a better moment.
Danny is so going to Hell, but it’s way too late to worry about that anyway. There’s a streak of blood down Steve’s chest, and Danny licks his lips as he watches it move along with Steve, his steps and stances reminding Danny of that ballet Rachel forced him to go see once. It’s terrifying and beautiful at the same time, and Danny wishes it wasn’t making him hard, but at the same time, he’s only human.
It takes a final uppercut for the Russian to go down, and the room erupts in cheers as Steve stands victorious in the middle of the cage, arms raised over his head, chest heaving and sweat rolling down his temples, his cocky little grin making Danny groan, his cock twitching in his boxers.
“Fucking asshole,” Danny can’t help but mutter to the emptiness of the car, his hands curled into fists. The announcer makes a show of it, and then Steve is hurried out of the cage while two men help the Russian out and sweep out the floor for the next fight.
From here on out, there is nothing Danny can do, except cross his fingers as tightly as he can that Steve won’t completely screw it up if he gets to meet Parker. Danny lets the worry bleed into the rest of his thoughts again, and sets in to listen to what he can.
;;
They don’t really say anything until they’re back in HQ. Danny drives the Camaro and Steve sprawls next to him.
“Are you sure nobody followed you, or saw you get in the car?”
“Sure, Danny, will you relax?”
“Relax? No, Steve, no, I will not relax, you just got beat up for this case, if it doesn’t work out -”
“Hey, I won.”
Danny is not about to tell Steve how watching him fight made him feel. There is no way, not right now. Right now he’s worried, and buzzed, and a little angry, wishing he had someone to beat up, too.
“You know what? Let’s not talk. You’re such a -” Danny sighs, pulling the car into park in front of HQ. Steve, thankfully, doesn’t say anything, but then, when Danny turns to look at Steve in the darkness of the parking lot, he takes pity on him, seeing the blooming bruises on his jaw, the dried blood down his temple.
“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Steve doesn’t answer anything, but he’s following along as Danny stomps inside the building and up to their offices, grabbing the first aid kit and sitting Steve down on the couch in his office before cleaning up his cuts.
“You idiot. I’m sure there were other ways...”
“Maybe, but this was the easiest. You know I can hold my own. I won.”
“Yeah, yeah, you won. Don’t go smug on me, okay, it’s nothing to be proud of.”
“Wasn’t it a good fight?” Steve looks genuinely worried, and Danny would have thoughts about his mental health if he didn’t already know that there are many things wrong with Steve. And this need to be reassured of something like this, it blows Danny’s mind, but he melts right into it anyway.
“It was a great fight, Steve. You were amazing.”
“Yeah?”
“Scary, out of your mind, but, yeah.”
There is something in Steve’s eyes, something else he wants to say, maybe, but Danny doesn’t let him, leaning in and kissing Steve with all his desperation and the need to feel Steve alive and beating under his palms and lips. Steve groans, kisses back with bites and pants, reaches out to grab Danny’s hips, pull him closer, but Danny steps away, breaks the kiss.
“No, nuh-huh. Other plans. Guess, despite it all, you deserve it,” Danny says, slowly sinking to his knees in between Steve’s spread legs. Steve lets out a noise, running fingers down the side of Danny’s face.
“It turned you on, admit it.”
“It - may have, possibly, a little. Will you lift your hips, now, or what?”
Steve grins, and pulls his shirt up over his head, dropping it next to him on the couch before he lifts his hips and tugs his shorts and underwear down, half-hard cock coming into view, making Danny’s stomach twist with want. He can’t help pressing his fingers against a bruise on Steve’s hip, watching Steve arch and hiss through clenched teeth, but he counters it by wrapping his lips around Steve’s cock, feeling it grow harder instantly under his tongue.
He’s not expecting Steve to last - every time it happens this way, adrenaline-fueled and on the brink of losing their minds or breaking a case, the sex is always rough and quick and they don’t really need more. Danny closes his eyes, focuses on the sounds he makes, a little sloppy and wet, and the sounds Steve makes, urgent and heavy in the night air, the leather creaking under his ass. He focuses on the tiny thrusts of Steve’s hips, on the way Steve is crushing his own hand with his fingers, how soft the skin of Steve’s cock is.
Images flash, superimposing themselves over the sounds, Steve dancing around the Russian behind Danny’s eyelids, his harsh pants a rhythm to his punches and kicks. It’s so hot Danny cannot help himself, has to open his slacks and slide a hand inside, jerking off with the same pace he’s sucking Steve’s cock.
He’s not wrong, it doesn’t last very long. Steve comes with a muffled shout and his hand fisted into Danny’s hair, and Danny follows almost right away, panting damp breaths against Steve’s thigh, his cheek on skin and shorts. Steve chuckles, sounding a little hysterical, and Danny finds himself grinning, turning his face into Steve’s stomach.
“Needed that.”
“Glad to be of service.”
Steve brushes his thumb against Danny’s cheekbone, making him look up. Their eyes meet.
“Thanks for worrying for me, Danno.”
“Yeah.”
tailoredshirt! <3 “Look, if you really are going to do this, do me a favor.”
Steve looks up from the light sparring gloves he’s putting on, his eyes slightly crazy, which doesn’t do anything to calm Danny’s nerves about this. It feels like a terrible idea. If only Chin and Kono weren’t working on trying to gather up Parker’s associates on Maui, maybe they would have helped Danny out, here. Only, maybe not Kono.
“What?”
“Lose the shirt.”
Steve opens his mouth, closes it, starts smiling as he raises an eyebrow. Danny sighs.
“Not like that, doofus. Lose the shirt, because you know there are no rules in there, right? And a shirt is way too easily grabbed onto.”
“Danny, I can defend myself.”
“I know you can. I asked you to do it as a favor.”
“Hmm.”
Danny resists the urge to roll his eyes, too worried to find the situation funny. He knows that Parker is a big fan of cage fighting and of sponsoring some really good fighters, so it makes sense to send Steve in the lion’s den, but that doesn’t mean Danny has to like it one bit. Because he doesn’t. Not one bit.
He scrapes his foot against the floor of the Camaro just as Steve chucks his sleeveless shirt over his head and onto Danny’s lap. Danny’s hands curl into it.
“There you go.”
“Thank you.”
“Okay, going in now.”
They won’t have any way to communicate, not when Steve is getting himself into a close contact fight. They’ll have to do without it, and it’s yet another thing Danny isn’t happy about.
“Right. I’ll keep my eyes on you and Parker. And, Steve?”
Steve has the door of the car open, peering out into the darkness. “Yes?”
Danny feels the words stick to his teeth like molasses. “Never mind.”
Steve jumps out, the door closing behind him as silently as he can make it.
;;
Danny watches, completely enthralled by the images on the HD laptop screen on the other seat of the car. The camera could be better quality, but the angle is great to see what’s going on inside the cage, and with the sound pouring into his ears, he feels as if he’s almost in the room with all these people shouting and cheering and clapping, waving dollar bills in the air for bets. Danny tries his best to swallow the worry, it won’t do Steve any good. He can take care of himself, Danny knows that, but not thinking about how Steve could end up beaten to a pulp on the floor of the cage is not easy.
Steve gets himself into position, turning around his opponent before sliding closer to land a punch. Danny wants to find it disgusting, but he remembers being younger and being angry and finding solace in places like this, hidden in warehouses and basements in Jersey. He remembers the feel of driving bare knuckles in someone’s jaw or nose, and feeling the bones crack under his hands. He wants to be against it now, because he’s got a little girl and he can’t condone violence and all that, but at the same time, he can’t quite begrudge Steve this, the enthusiasm with which Steve is throwing himself at his opponent.
He has seen Steve on the edge of a breakdown a few times now, and Danny can’t deny that letting Steve beat some Russian bodybuilder on steroids will probably do the him some good. Call it cathartic, therapeutic maybe.
For Danny, watching this on the screen feels almost surreal, but more than anything else, it’s absolutely transfixing. He can’t look away from Steve, his skin glistening with sweat in the artificial lights of the room, his fists connecting with the Russian’s ribs, upper arms, neck, jaw, before Steve sends a kick straight to his stomach, losing his footing for a second, slipping on blood and other bodily fluids. Danny hisses, leaning in closer to the laptop.
The room around them is deafening in Danny’s earphones, telling him just how much he’s not the only one this fight is making a little wild. Steve charges into his opponent, pushing a shoulder in the taller man’s solar plexus, pushing him right up against the cage with a cry that makes Danny shiver.
It shouldn’t be hot, but truth is, it completely is, and Danny slides a finger in the knot of his tie, loosening it a little and undoing the button underneath, his eyes going from Steve’s tattooed arms to the muscles flexing in his thigh, made obvious by the black shorts he’s wearing, to his bare feet, specked with blood. The Russian manages a blow to the side of Steve’s face, sending him reeling and causing an uproar in the crowd, and blood gushes from Steve’s now split eyebrow, and Danny dry-swallows.
The sounds are not helping, either, grunts and naked flesh slapping against naked flesh - he’s pretty sure he’s not the only one around with a hard-on. Luckily, the Russian is ugly enough that Danny’s not going to start jerking off. He can wait for a better moment.
Danny is so going to Hell, but it’s way too late to worry about that anyway. There’s a streak of blood down Steve’s chest, and Danny licks his lips as he watches it move along with Steve, his steps and stances reminding Danny of that ballet Rachel forced him to go see once. It’s terrifying and beautiful at the same time, and Danny wishes it wasn’t making him hard, but at the same time, he’s only human.
It takes a final uppercut for the Russian to go down, and the room erupts in cheers as Steve stands victorious in the middle of the cage, arms raised over his head, chest heaving and sweat rolling down his temples, his cocky little grin making Danny groan, his cock twitching in his boxers.
“Fucking asshole,” Danny can’t help but mutter to the emptiness of the car, his hands curled into fists. The announcer makes a show of it, and then Steve is hurried out of the cage while two men help the Russian out and sweep out the floor for the next fight.
From here on out, there is nothing Danny can do, except cross his fingers as tightly as he can that Steve won’t completely screw it up if he gets to meet Parker. Danny lets the worry bleed into the rest of his thoughts again, and sets in to listen to what he can.
;;
They don’t really say anything until they’re back in HQ. Danny drives the Camaro and Steve sprawls next to him.
“Are you sure nobody followed you, or saw you get in the car?”
“Sure, Danny, will you relax?”
“Relax? No, Steve, no, I will not relax, you just got beat up for this case, if it doesn’t work out -”
“Hey, I won.”
Danny is not about to tell Steve how watching him fight made him feel. There is no way, not right now. Right now he’s worried, and buzzed, and a little angry, wishing he had someone to beat up, too.
“You know what? Let’s not talk. You’re such a -” Danny sighs, pulling the car into park in front of HQ. Steve, thankfully, doesn’t say anything, but then, when Danny turns to look at Steve in the darkness of the parking lot, he takes pity on him, seeing the blooming bruises on his jaw, the dried blood down his temple.
“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Steve doesn’t answer anything, but he’s following along as Danny stomps inside the building and up to their offices, grabbing the first aid kit and sitting Steve down on the couch in his office before cleaning up his cuts.
“You idiot. I’m sure there were other ways...”
“Maybe, but this was the easiest. You know I can hold my own. I won.”
“Yeah, yeah, you won. Don’t go smug on me, okay, it’s nothing to be proud of.”
“Wasn’t it a good fight?” Steve looks genuinely worried, and Danny would have thoughts about his mental health if he didn’t already know that there are many things wrong with Steve. And this need to be reassured of something like this, it blows Danny’s mind, but he melts right into it anyway.
“It was a great fight, Steve. You were amazing.”
“Yeah?”
“Scary, out of your mind, but, yeah.”
There is something in Steve’s eyes, something else he wants to say, maybe, but Danny doesn’t let him, leaning in and kissing Steve with all his desperation and the need to feel Steve alive and beating under his palms and lips. Steve groans, kisses back with bites and pants, reaches out to grab Danny’s hips, pull him closer, but Danny steps away, breaks the kiss.
“No, nuh-huh. Other plans. Guess, despite it all, you deserve it,” Danny says, slowly sinking to his knees in between Steve’s spread legs. Steve lets out a noise, running fingers down the side of Danny’s face.
“It turned you on, admit it.”
“It - may have, possibly, a little. Will you lift your hips, now, or what?”
Steve grins, and pulls his shirt up over his head, dropping it next to him on the couch before he lifts his hips and tugs his shorts and underwear down, half-hard cock coming into view, making Danny’s stomach twist with want. He can’t help pressing his fingers against a bruise on Steve’s hip, watching Steve arch and hiss through clenched teeth, but he counters it by wrapping his lips around Steve’s cock, feeling it grow harder instantly under his tongue.
He’s not expecting Steve to last - every time it happens this way, adrenaline-fueled and on the brink of losing their minds or breaking a case, the sex is always rough and quick and they don’t really need more. Danny closes his eyes, focuses on the sounds he makes, a little sloppy and wet, and the sounds Steve makes, urgent and heavy in the night air, the leather creaking under his ass. He focuses on the tiny thrusts of Steve’s hips, on the way Steve is crushing his own hand with his fingers, how soft the skin of Steve’s cock is.
Images flash, superimposing themselves over the sounds, Steve dancing around the Russian behind Danny’s eyelids, his harsh pants a rhythm to his punches and kicks. It’s so hot Danny cannot help himself, has to open his slacks and slide a hand inside, jerking off with the same pace he’s sucking Steve’s cock.
He’s not wrong, it doesn’t last very long. Steve comes with a muffled shout and his hand fisted into Danny’s hair, and Danny follows almost right away, panting damp breaths against Steve’s thigh, his cheek on skin and shorts. Steve chuckles, sounding a little hysterical, and Danny finds himself grinning, turning his face into Steve’s stomach.
“Needed that.”
“Glad to be of service.”
Steve brushes his thumb against Danny’s cheekbone, making him look up. Their eyes meet.
“Thanks for worrying for me, Danno.”
“Yeah.”
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no subject
Date: 2011-09-03 02:32 pm (UTC)*happy sigh*
So hot... I'm with Danny on this one, it shouldn't be but it really, really is *g*
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Date: 2011-09-03 02:39 pm (UTC)I know - I always think it shouldn't be hot, but oh, hng, it does things to me...
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Date: 2011-09-03 02:52 pm (UTC)I can understand Danny perfectly, how are you supposed to resist something like that?
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Date: 2011-09-03 02:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-03 02:58 pm (UTC)I'm going to bed with now with those extremely delicious images in my head so thank you for that! ;p
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Date: 2011-09-03 03:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-03 03:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-03 03:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-03 03:40 pm (UTC)So....NGH.
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Date: 2011-09-03 03:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-03 04:14 pm (UTC)*ahem*
Yeah. That.
So very, very hot, with the muscles and the sweat and the fighting, which, as long as you're not aiming to actually kill your opponent, it should be a little hot, watching someone show off the body and skill they've worked so hard to perfect (I think you're spot on with the ballet analogy, though I suppose ballet usually comes with less blood...).
But the emotion underneath about killed me. Poor Danny, watching helplessly from the car was just...gah. There was one point when he leaned into the laptop and I was doing the exact same thing just from reading what he was seeing. That's some seriously brilliant storytelling right there. :)
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Date: 2011-09-03 04:20 pm (UTC)I'm so glad it worked for you! I wanted it to be really vivid. Thank you for reading!
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Date: 2011-09-03 04:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-03 04:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-03 04:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-03 04:40 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked!
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Date: 2011-09-03 06:48 pm (UTC)I actually thought, wow, she churned this out quickly, will it be any good? And yes, it is really good!
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Date: 2011-09-03 06:51 pm (UTC)Ah! It took me about 2 and a half or something. I just was really inspired, and it's only short :').
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Date: 2011-09-03 06:09 pm (UTC)This is how the episode is going to go, yes? YES PLEASE.
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Date: 2011-09-03 06:51 pm (UTC)=DDDDDD Win!
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Date: 2011-09-03 10:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-03 09:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 07:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-03 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 07:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 12:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 07:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 12:25 am (UTC)<3
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Date: 2011-09-04 07:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 12:43 am (UTC)I'm so glad you did!
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Date: 2011-09-04 07:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 03:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 07:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 05:25 am (UTC)who could blame Danny, huh? this is so sexy.
*re-reads*
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Date: 2011-09-04 07:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 01:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 05:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 08:30 pm (UTC)Excellent :D
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Date: 2011-09-05 02:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-05 02:46 pm (UTC):D
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Date: 2011-09-05 02:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-05 05:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-10 12:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-14 10:59 pm (UTC)