As a rule, I don't write fun/fluff as I don't think I'm that good at it. And well, angst is what I do. But I couldn't get the thought out of my head that after Steve tried to sneak up on Danny in his apartment, and failed miserably, he wouldn't let it go that easily.
Author: Fatorangekat (DC)
Rating: Hard R/NC17
Warnings/Spoilers: Minor mentions for episodes 2.8 through 2.12
Summary: After Steve's failed attempt to sneak up on Danny in ep 2.8- Lapa'au, he decides he gonna ambush his friend one way or another. It's a matter of pride after. But it's not as easy as Steve thought it would be.
Special thanks to HCat for her encouragement and awesome beta.
Okay, so he admitted it. He hadn't really thought about it when the unexplained urge struck him outside Danny's latest temporary apartment. It seemed like a good idea at the time—sneak in without his partner knowing he was there and…
And do what, exactly?
Sort of like a dog chasing a car, right?
Not that it much mattered in the end. Danny knew he was there without so much as a glance. Not at all impressed with what he called Steve's "ninja skills."
And okay, that stung a little. Steve was, after all, a highly trained Navy SEAL! Like he was going to take bad mouthing like that from a snarky cop from, of all places, New Jersey. Seriously.
Nope, it wasn't sitting well with Steve at all. Not that Steve was the competitive type. Much. Uh huh, this was all about pride.
So game on, Danno.
Operation: News at Six
A few days later, Steve came into the office and spotted his partner immediately. Danny stood in front of his desk, back to the door, reading a newspaper. Steve paused, casting a quick glance around but it appeared Chin Ho, Kono or Lori hadn't made it in yet.
And Danny didn't appear to know Steve had come in.
And okay, sure, they were in the office, but no one was technically on duty yet. Sure, it was a fine line but who was Steve to pass up a chance to show off his moves and get even with Danny?
Another glance to make sure the coast was clear and Steve slipped along the far side of the office, being as quiet as possible. Now he was directly behind Danny with only the glass wall and door between them. Danny still stood, wearing dark dress slacks and a yellow button down shirt, reading the paper and occasionally shaking his head before flipping a page.
Taking a deep breath, Steve softly, slowly nudged the door open, easing a step into the room.
"Still not impressed, Steven."
Steve deflated, staring at Danny's back. The guy didn't even have the decency to turn around. He did flip the paper closed and folded it, dropping it on his desk.
"Have no idea what you're talking about, Danno. I was about to ask if you wanted any coffee." Steve crossed his arms over his chest, head up.
Danny turned and leaned back against his desk, blue eyes taking measure of him. "Uh huh. You, know, McGarrett, I think your SEAL skills are getting sloppy."
"Sloppy?" Steve snapped as Danny shrugged.
"Must be all the slumming with us mere mortals."
"That's a cheap shot, Danno."
Slumming? Sloppy? Who the hell was Danny to make cracks like that? That's okay, live it up, Jersey. You'll get yours.
Steve didn't get another chance until he invited Danny over for beers and the game that weekend. Besides, this latest apartment of Danny's wasn't working out at all and Steve decided he'd offer to let Danny crash at his place for a couple of weeks until his friend could find more suitable housing.
Getting up to grab them both a fresh pair of beers and some snacks, he left his friend sprawled in the overstuffed chair. Danny shouted at the TV like any other typical armchair quarterback, Steve smiling at the colorful language Danny rarely used. He refilled the large bowl with chips before pulling the beers out of the fridge.
Hands full, he started to go back into the living room. And paused.
With the chair situated the way it was, back facing the kitchen and with Danny slouched so comfortably in it, you couldn't even see the top of his head.
With exaggerated care, Steve silently set the beers and bowl down on the table. A commercial filled the screen with some obnoxious jingle. Steve knew where all the creaks were in the old floor. Barefoot, he eased across the planks and area rug, ducking behind the back of Danny's chair.
Sensing victory, he leaped up and lunged over the top, grabbing for Danny's arms.
Only the chair was empty, Danny not there.
Without being able to grab Danny by the shoulders, Steve lost his balance and found himself sprawled gracelessly, head first, flailing. Swearing under his breath, he shoved himself up to find Danny staring at him with a raised eyebrow, arms crossed.
He must have gotten up while Steve had been in the kitchen.
"Nice moves, Smooth Dog."
"Oh shut up," Steve grumbled, heading back into the kitchen. He'd come back for his dignity in a minute.
"I gotta tell ya, my daughter is better at this than you are."
"Screw you, Danno."
"That's our Smooth Dog, alright."
Okay, now it was war. A full out attack on all fronts. The smug bastard wouldn't even know what hit him. No more Mr. Nice Guy.
Danny accepted the invitation to crash for a couple of weeks on Steve's couch. It was an unexpected blessing and Danny was not ungrateful. The odd list of rules that came along with the invitation, well, it was Steve's house, after all. Danny was just thankful for a place that was clean and safe for once.
Besides, he was curious what Steve would do now that he was nearby all the time. The guy had gotten it in his head he was going to ambush him, which had turned into a huge source of amusement for Danny.
And god knew, he needed the amusement.
Right now, it was bordering on hilarious.
With each failed attempt, Steve got more determined. What his friend and partner didn't seem to understand was that he was woefully out of his league. Danny came from a large family. A large, loud, no privacy, everyone in everyone else's space kind of family. Being oldest, he learned a long time ago when his brother and sisters were sneaking up on him with mayhem in mind. It was a matter of survival.
Not that he didn't do that sort of pranking himself—after all, payback was half the fun.
Becoming a father, well, that just heightened one's senses that extra notch that seemed to come with being a parent.
Steve may have been trained by the military, be a SEAL with covert ops experience, but compared to Danny's siblings and daughter, the guy was a rank amateur.
That didn't mean Danny wouldn't let him eventually claim victory. But it would be on his terms at a time and place of his choosing. He doubted Steve even had a clue what he would do when he finally did catch him.
Danny did, though. And he had every intention of making it worth Steve's growing frustration.
Steve came down from the house with a pair of beers in one hand, and a can of soda in the other. A late afternoon breeze blew in off the ocean, carrying Grace and Danny's laughter up from the beach.
Grace played in the surf, jumping into the lazy waves. Nearby, her father kept a watchful eye on her. He'd waded in up to his knees, still wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that hugged him like it was painted on.
Steve still got caught off guard seeing Danny dressed more casually these days. He heartily approved of the wardrobe additions. Danny was an eyeful in dress shirts that were just a bit snug over his chest and shoulders and dress slacks that showed off an incredible ass. He was nothing short of hot in jeans and T-shirts.
And right now, Danny was also completely distracted, his focus on Grace.
Steve carefully set the drinks down on one of the chairs. Grace was splashing Danny, staying just out of his reach in deeper water. Both were laughing, something Steve realized he hardly ever heard from Danny over the last few months. Danny splashed back at Grace, threatening to grab her and hold her upside down in the water if she kept it up.
Neither of them seemed to realize he was there. Steve waded in, being careful to stay behind Danny as much as possible. He was almost there, in fact was reaching for Danny with the idea he was going to shove him down in the surf for a good dousing when Grace waved at him.
"Hi Uncle Steve!"
Son of a—
So close only to have victory snatched away from him again at the hands of a sweet faced little girl, no less. "There's a soda on the chair for you, Gracie."
Danny hadn't turned around, didn't even give him a look as he stood in the water, arms now crossed over his chest. Sweet Christ he looked delicious. Seriously delicious.
"You have all the social skills of a feral kitten, you realize that." Danny watched as Grace ran onto the beach in search of the promised soda.
"I don't know what--- social skills? Feral kitten?" Steve spread his arms wide, glaring at Danny who finally looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Where do you come up with this stuff?"
"You were going to dunk me, Steven. In front of my daughter. Don't deny it." Danny shook his head, sighing. "That's just not nice." He left Steve, walking out onto the beach to get one of the beers.
"Nice? I'm letting you stay here, aren't I?"
Feral kitten? Really? You are so getting it, Danno, you have no idea what I'm capable of. No rules and the gloves are off, partner.
Operation: Martha Stewart
This should be easier. Danny lived in his house now. The guy was practically served up on a silver platter for Steve. But his partner had an uncanny knack of knowing when Steve was sneaking up on him.
Like earlier this evening's kitchen incident. Steve had picked up a couple of steaks to toss on the grill so Danny volunteered to make the salad. His partner was still in his work clothes, humming under his breath as he chopped and sliced vegetables, tossing them into a large wood bowl Steve had pulled down.
Steve had the fire going, but hadn't put the steaks on yet as they wouldn't take much time. He came in to grab the plate of meat only to pause in the doorway and watch Danny.
The guy was always in constant motion, something that both fascinated and bewildered Steve at the same time. Danny was all this restless energy that never seemed to take a break. Like now—Danny wasn't just cutting up salad fixings. He shifted and swayed in the same spot, still humming some tune Steve didn't recognize.
Steve didn't know how his friend wasn't exhausted all the time.
Danny dumped whatever he'd been slicing into the bowl before reaching for a pepper. Steve watched the play of muscle across the wide shoulders and back, itching to run his hands over them.
Danny must not have heard him come back in because he'd never have stayed quiet this long knowing Steve was in the room. Thinking this could be his chance, Steve came into the kitchen in full stealth mode, easing silently around the island. He was almost there, only a few feet to go…
"Are you seriously impaired?" Danny didn't turn, just held up the large knife he'd been using. "I've got sharp objects in my possession. And I know how to use them." He went back to slicing the pepper.
"I was getting the steaks."
"Platter's behind you, babe. You'll find your dignity there too."
Okay, he was being polite before. Playing by a certain code of ethics, lines you simply didn't cross in the name of good fun.
Well screw that, Danno.
Steve couldn't sleep. He lay staring at the ceiling, restless and okay, he could admit it, annoyed. It wasn't the TV, though, the house was quiet, Danny must have fallen asleep.
This whole thing was really starting to piss him off no end. Here he was, a highly trained Navy SEAL and he just couldn't seem to pull one over on a transplant from New Jersey who didn't even like it here. Sure, a couple of failed attempts hadn't necessarily been due to Danny's unnerving tendency to know Steve was behind him. For instance, Grace blew his cover that one time.
Still, Danny had an uncanny sense of self preservation that had Steve gritting his teeth in frustration. It didn't help that with each failed attempt he got treated to some snarky remark from Danny. And a post-it note in his office with an op name and FAILED written on it.
Maybe it was time to just give it up, at least for a few weeks. Let Danny get his guard down, thinking that Steve was no longer interested.
Then he could blindside the bastard.
Steve knew he wasn't exactly patient, though. And there was pride at stake here.
Steve sat up, listening to the sound of the crashing waves, a sound that for some reason drove Danny crazy. Shaking his head, Steve pulled a t-shirt on and went downstairs to make a cup of tea. Maybe that would help him sleep. He came down the steps in bare feet, noticing the TV was on, but no sound. The headphones were on the floor, so Danny must have muted it before going to sleep.
Speaking of Danny, the guy must be buried under the blanket. The couch looked like so much laundry had been dumped on it.
Steve knew Danny didn't sleep well, he'd gotten that within a few days of his moving in. He needed noise, apparently, and the crashing surf didn't fit that bill. So far be it for Steve to bother the guy if he was actually asleep.
But how often did he get such an opportunity? If he couldn't get Danny when he was awake…
"It's a two-way street, McGarrett." The pile of blankets muttered from the couch. "You gotta sleep sometime too, you know."
"I'm only turning the TV off, Danno."
"Just keep on moving, ninja man."
Danny moved out just before Chin's wedding. Steve wasn't sure what to think of that but had a sense that Danny didn't want to wear out his welcome. And he'd somehow won a deluxe suite at the Hawaiian Hilton for a week. So Danny went there, leaving Steve feeling a bit cheated.
And sure, he was just being spiteful (and a bit jealous) when he conveniently lost the handcuff keys over the balcony. But damn it, Danny had been getting his digs in every chance he got and Steve wasn't exactly being graceful about it. So if he took some small pleasure in Danny's being stuck with the handcuffs dangling from one wrist, so what?
Besides, Danny never asked to show him the "Jersey slip."
Operation: Jersey Slip
Chin and Malia's wedding had been beautiful.
Danny invited Steve to come over to the hotel that evening after the reception with the promise of a few beers. Steve figured Danny just didn't want to be alone after the wedding with his own memories.
Leaving their jackets in the car, they both got off the elevator, Steve in slippers, Danny wearing a ratty pair of canvas sneakers with the laces undone. Steve admired the view of his friend from behind as Danny patted himself down and then fished out his key card.
The crisp white dress shirt snugged across the broad shoulders as Danny unlocked and opened the door. Telling Steve he had a couple six packs of Longboards in the fridge, Danny stepped in and tossed his card key and wallet on the small table just inside the door. Steve came in right behind him.
Steve didn't give himself time to think about it. In one fluid move he grabbed Danny with both hands by the shoulders and kicked the door shut. Before it even clicked all the way home, Steve shoved him up against it, bracketing him with stiff arms and hands flat against the door.
"Son of a bitch, I got you, Danny!" Euphoria swept over him with finally having successfully ambushed his friend. Victorious, he grinned down at Danny.
"Uh huh. So now what, Steven?" Danny smiled up at him with pure mischief dancing in those clear blue eyes.
Steve blinked, the glow of success starting to dim.
"Seriously? This was the extent of your master plan?"
Well, actually… okay, so Steve could admit he didn't have a clue what came next. He'd been so caught up in the chase, so determined to prove he could ambush the smug bastard that he left out a few details.
Like now what?
Several things came to mind, but he'd been slugged by Danny before and knew the guy had an impressive right hook. And sure, Steve had been indulging in the occasional thought about Danny that had absolutely nothing to do with work.
Steve took a step back, dropping his arms, at a loss for words.
That's all the opening Danny needed. The next thing Steve knew he was being spun around and shouldered against the door where he had Danny only moments before.
Danny fisted his hands in Steve's shirt, pinning Steve bodily. Stunned, the breath knocked out of him, Steve could only stare at his friend.
That's when Danny kissed him.
Danny didn't just kiss him. He took possession of Steve right there, staking his claim with a kiss so hot and filthy, Steve's knees practically buckled. Danny pushed up against him, pushing one knee between Steve's legs and grinding an impressive erection against his hip.
They broke apart, Steve struggling to catch his breath. Danny didn't seem to have the same problem as he licked and nipped down Steve's throat.
"Fuck, Danny, what the hell—"
Danny stopped, looking up at him with dark eyes. "You want me to stop?"
"Oh god no! It's just that—" Steve sucked in a started breath when Danny nipped the sensitive skin at base of his throat.
"You're totally clueless, you know that, McGarrett?" Danny pulled Steve's shirt free from his slacks before attacking the buttons.
"Christ, Danny, cut me a break here!"
Danny pushed Steve's shirt open before running his hand over Steve's chest and palming a nipple. "That's not what you really want though, is it." Danny had Steve's trousers undone, pushing his hand inside, wrapping it around Steve's length in a grip so tight it almost hurt.
"Oh god—" Steve banged his head back against the door, his whole body flashing hot then cold. "Fuck, Danny—"
Still gripping Steve, Danny leaned in, nipping him just under his ear. "You don't really want me to give you a break, do you?" Danny breathed across his ear as he fisted Steve's cock, running his thumb over the sensitive head. "You’ve thought about this a few times, I'm betting."
"Damn you, yes!" Steve hissed when Danny stroked down the length of his cock.
"That's what I was hoping." Danny gave him a final squeeze before removing his hand. Before Steve could object, he realized Danny was getting his own pants undone, freeing his own erection. Danny then pushed Steve's pants down low on his hips to do the same.
"Come here," Danny pulled him into a deep kiss as he came up against him, pressing Steve back against the door as he ran his hands down Steve's shoulders.
Steve moaned deep when their erections came together with a slick friction. Grabbing at Danny's hips, he thrust back against the other man, the sensation, like nothing he'd experienced before, spiked through him. Heat pooled with a liquid burn at the base of his spine, spreading out, drenching him, pulling him to the edge.
Danny was right there with him, his breath hot against Steve's skin, eyes dark in the low lights of the room. Steve may not have done this before, but he was a quick learner and it didn't take much to find his rhythm against Danny.
Neither of them were going to last long. Danny muttered under his breath, encouraging Steve, urging him on. Steve didn't need much coaxing in the first place after a couple of frustrating weeks of trying to catch Danny.
He was right at that edge now, so close it hurt as he balanced there, lights dancing at the edge of his vision.
"Come on, Steve, come for me…" Danny hissed, rocking against him, fingers digging into Steve's shoulders.
And Steve went tumbling over the edge, crying Danny's name. Danny kissed him hard, still rutting against him as Steve came. Danny was right behind him, hips jerking against Steve.
"Christ, Danny." Steve slumped back against the door, shaky in the aftermath of his climax. Danny still held him there, forehead on Steve's shoulder, breathing heavily through his mouth.
"Fuck, Steve. I should have let you catch me sooner." He finally pushed up, then back enough to look at Steve with a lazy smile. "Seriously."
"Oh no you don't, Danny—I ambushed you fair and square!" Steve pushed a hand through his hair. "No way you let me catch you."
Danny shook his head, grinning as he stepped back, pulling his pants back up on his hips. "Hey, whatever makes you happy, Smooth Dog."
"You're such a bastard, you know that, Danny?" Steve tugged his own pants up.
"Uh huh." He grinned before turning away, heading toward the bathroom. "How about I teach you the real Jersey slip." He disappeared inside.
"The real—wait, does it involve handcuffs?"
Danny stuck his head back out. "Only if you want it to, Steven."
"Oh man, I'm in so far over my head," Steve muttered. "What the hell was I thinking?"