azziria | Ficlet: Camouflage

Title: Camouflage

Pairing: Steve/ Danny

Rating: NC-17

Summary: There is nothing sexy about camouflage…

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

Warnings: Disrespect of the sacred cammo.

Word count: 430

Author's note: A snippet inspired in a roundabout way by

rocsfan’s latest Woman’s Day graphic.

Camouflage

“Contrary to popular belief, Steven, there is nothing sexy about camouflage!”

“Nothing? You sure about that, Danno?”

Steve’s smirking now, and oh, Danny doesn’t like that smirk, he really doesn’t, that smirk means trouble (and maybe Danny’s dick likes that smirk a little bit too much, traitorous body part that it is, but Danny’s a grown man, a seasoned detective and a father, he’s not going to be ruled by the one part of his body that still thinks like a teenager).

“Quite sure. Camouflage has its place, which is out there…” he waves his hand in the general direction of the bedroom window, “…on manoeuvres, or whatever you Army types call it. Where I’m sure it is very useful for concealing you and your SEAL buddies from international terrorists, or the Taliban, or whichever enemy of the state you’re hunting down at the time. However, camouflage does not belong in the bedroom, whatever you Rambo types might think.”

“So you don’t think I look hot in my BDUs?” Steve asks, sounding amused, and now Danny’s going to have to perjure himself, because yeah, he might have had certain lustful thoughts occasionally, but that’s because he knows what’s under the uniform, right?

“No, not one little bit. Camouflage is not sexy, my friend, not even on you.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve nods, and the smirk is still there, damn him. “So what you’re saying, Danny,” and he leans back against the dresser and slides his fingers down inside of the waistband of his cargo pants, palms flat against the tanned skin of his disturbingly-naked abs, “What you’re saying is that camouflage does absolutely nothing for you…”

Danny swallows hard. “That’s correct. Nothing. Nada. Squat.”

“So…” Steve thumbs open his fly buttons, one by one, then slides his hands round to push his cargoes slowly down over his ass, “I guess a blow job’s out of the question, then…” and fuck Danny sideways (or forwards or backwards or upside-down, he’s an adaptable sort of guy), the way those camouflage boxer briefs are clinging to Steve’s body and highlighting what looks to be a very, very impressive erection is downright obscene.

“Well, I… um… I...” He knows his voice is embarrassingly gruff but seriously, his brain can’t process any more right now than how much he wants to get down on his knees and mouth Steve’s cock through those briefs, to feel the length of him pressing hot and hard against that tight fabric and then pull them down with his teeth and wipe that infuriating smirk off the smug idiot’s face.

Maybe camouflage isn’t such a turn-off after all…