azziria | Fic: Need

Title: Need

Pairing: Steve/Danny

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Danny's having trouble coming to terms with what Steve is.

Disclaimer: Don't own them, no harm intended, no profit made etc.

Warnings: Dub con.

Word count: 1300

Author's note: Coda for 2.03. A while back I read an article written by a soldier who'd served in Afghanistan, in which he said that the hardest thing to explain to the folks back home was that sometimes being at war was fun in a strange sort of way. I've not been under fire, but I've been in a few dangerous situations in my time (first while caving and more recently ocean racing) and I understand what he was saying.

Need

Danny's quiet all the way home, has been uncharacteristically quiet ever since they left the Naval base, and that's worrying, because it means that Danny's got something on his mind. And if that something is so big and so difficult that even Danny Williams is struggling to verbalize it, then Steve's got a problem.

Danny is never this quiet around Steve, and it's scaring him.

Danny follows him into the house without being asked, trails after him into the kitchen and takes the proffered beer without a word. His eyes are hooded as he leans back against the kitchen counter and takes a long swallow from the bottle.

"So," he says, and here it comes. "That stuff, that SEAL stuff we saw today… have you done that often?"

Steve takes a swallow from his own bottle, turns it in his hands and shoots for lightness of tone. "You know I can't tell you that, Danny. It's classified."

Danny squares his jaw, lips tightening, and nods his head. "Classified, huh?" His tone is clipped, and it scares Steve more than he cares to admit that he can't read the emotion that Danny's suppressing here. "Class-if-ied." He rolls the word around in his mouth as if it's something distasteful and then raises his eyes to Steve's, and Steve can read the long, cold distance between them, like this Danny is far, far away from the usual Danny.

"Do you miss it?"

The question is sharp, fired out like gunshot, and it leaves Steve off balance.

"Danny, I…"

"I asked you a question, Steven. Do you miss it?" Rapid fire again, and Steve can't tell if it's ice or heat he's hearing, and that really scares him.

The truth is, he doesn't know what to tell Danny without sounding even crazier than Danny already thinks he is.

Because he does miss it. He misses it all. He misses the atmosphere of subdued tension that builds before a mission, the familiar rituals of preparing his equipment and kitting up, the quiet understanding between team members as they prepare, each alone with his thoughts and yet together, a common focus and understanding linking them. He misses the adrenaline rush of the mission itself, of being totally in the moment, focussed on here and now and on getting it done, no room for doubts or extraneous thoughts or worries, just pure drive and concentration. And he misses what comes afterwards, the high of knowing that you got away with it one more time, the sheer raw and visceral joy of being alive and being here, you and the guys who went through it with you. There's nothing like it.

If you've not been there then how can you know, he thinks. How can a civilian, even a cop like Danny, really understand what it's like?

So he shakes his head. "No," he says, deliberately meeting Danny's eyes. "I don't miss it."

Danny looks at him for a long moment, a cold and calculating look with his jaw still tight and his mouth a hard line, and then he slams his beer bottle down on the counter top. "Liar," he spits out, and then he's advancing forward, right up into Steve's space, one hand gripping Steve's bicep painfully tightly while with the other he grasps a fistful of Steve's hair to yank his head down. "Liar," he spits again, his mouth against Steve's, and then he's kissing him, brutally fierce and taking no prisoners, all fire and anger and resentment, shoving him back until his ass hits the table's edge hard. "You're lying to me." His fingers are rough on Steve's fly, yanking his cargoes and his briefs down as he spins him and slams him face down onto the table, and Steve could end this right now and he knows it, knows that Danny knows it too, knows that Danny wouldn't stand a chance if he decided to fight back, but he goes with it because this is Danny, and Danny needs this.

"I thought I knew you." Danny sounds angry now, angry and lost. "I thought I knew you, but I don't, do I?" He's got lube from somewhere, and he's shoving his fingers into Steve's ass, merciless and ungentle. "That's the real you, what I saw in there, that's what you are, that's what you miss." He knots the fingers of his free hand in Steve's hair, forcing him down, keeping his face pressed hard against the polished wood while his other hand does its work. "All of this, me, us, it's all second best, isn't it? If they called you you'd be back there like a shot because you miss it. You need it!" He pulls his fingers out and now he's got his khakis open, and Steve can feel him hot and hard against him, can feel the blunt head of Danny's cock against his ass. "You'd go back there and do that and it wouldn't matter that you've got people here who care about you." Danny's pushing in, too fast for comfort and it hurts, but Steve welcomes the pain. "You'd go back out there and you'd get yourself killed because everything you've got here is nothing to you compared to that!" Danny pulls back and shoves again, snapping his hips forward, driving Steve against the sharp edge of the table, and he's going to have bruises as well as a sore ass after Danny's done here. Another thrust, "And I didn't get it, before, but I do now." Danny's got a punishing rhythm going, and Jesus, Steve can't help himself, it feels good. "I get it now. Every time you go out there and do something stupid…" Danny jerks his head back and the sudden sharp pain of pulled hair is a counterpoint to the pain and pleasure sparking in his belly. "Every time you don't wait for backup, every time you go in hot without thinking, it's because you miss that."

And fuck it, that part's true, but the rest of it, the rest of it is so far from the truth that he can't believe Danny doesn't see it. Because that was then, back then when he didn't have anybody he cared about, when nobody cared about him, and it's all different now, everything's changed, he's changed. He's still a SEAL, yes, but he's more than that now, he's got so much more than that and Danny should know that.

Danny fucks into him again, hard, fingers tight on Steve's hipbones, voice cracking. "You take those stupid risks because you miss that, you don't give a damn about how the people who love you would feel if you died," and with a final shove Danny's coming deep inside Steve, hips thrust tight against Steve's ass as he loses himself, skin pressed hot against Steve's back.

It's as if time stands still for a moment, the two of them locked together, and then Danny seems to realize what he's done and pushes back and away, and Steve twists to look at him. Danny looks shocked and dishevelled, pants undone, hair wild and eyes red-rimmed. "Oh God, Steve, I'm sorry…" Danny's backing away, horrified with himself, and Steve's heart lurches inside him. He grabs at his briefs and cargoes with one hand, pulling them up, regardless of Danny's come running down the inside of his leg and the fact that he's still achingly hard himself, and goes for Danny.

Goes for Danny and gets his arms round him, pulling him in tight against his chest, and Danny struggles for a moment and then gives, sagging against him and dropping his head down, breath coming in a sob against Steve's shirt. "Danny," he says, "Danny," and he feels so fucking useless because he has no more words, doesn't know how to explain, doesn't know how to tell Danny that he's wrong, that he's not that man any more. Doesn't know how to tell Danny that he loves him. "Danny," he says, and holds him, holds him tight and hopes against all the odds that Danny gets it, because it's all so fucking complicated and Steve's not sure he entirely understands it either.