He can do this, he thinks. He's a SEAL, he's trained to perform in difficult and dangerous situations. He can do this to save their lives, and then afterwards he can arrange a transfer to prevent any... awkwardness. Because surely the Governor will see sense. He closes his eyes, forces himself to lay hands on soft skin and smooth curves, and imagines hard muscle and broad shoulders under his touch, the rasp of stubble against his skin, a quite different blond spread out underneath him.
See, now you've kind of made me want to read something where he has to sleep with her because he knows she's up to something, but she ob viously has the hots for him and it's the only way to get to her, just to read the insane levels of angst and the strain on his relationship with Danny, which obviously has to be hidden even more...I mean, it would be like him having to go undercover in a relationship with someone, only he has to play it out right there in front of Danny every single day...omg the pain! It's like a drug hit to my veins... *g*
Danny can smell him even before he steps inside the garage. He’s not met another one since he came to Hawaii, he was beginning to think he was the only one of his kind on the island, and it’s better that way usually, easier to hide what he is if he’s alone. But this scent is unmistakeable: a male, in his prime unless Danny’s nose is mistaken, and it rarely is, and Danny feels his blood quicken as he pulls his gun and steps inside.
The guy is tall, dark and lean, and oh yes, Danny’s not wrong, in his prime. His body language screams ‘alpha’, and that’s going to be interesting, because Danny’s not exactly used to not being top dog either, and is this island really going to be big enough for the both of them come the next full moon?
He gives no sign of knowing what Danny is, but there’s no way he doesn’t know, no way he can’t smell it on Danny the way Danny’s smelling it on him, there’s no mistaking it. The confrontation is pure alpha, the two of them prowling round one another, hackles raised, and by the time McGarrett leaves with the box and control of the case, Danny’s seriously pissed. Strike one to McGarrett, but Danny’s not one to roll over and play dead. This doesn’t end here.
Danny is a man of experience, he's done this before, he knows how it goes. Or how it should go, anyway. Plus, he's followed this guy into firefights and off cliffs (well at least one cliff), worries constantly about his lack of concern for his own personal safety, and endures his bitching about what Danny eats and wears with a fortitude that proves that what he's feeling for the big idiot must be love.
And the sex is amazing. There is that, too.
Add to that the fact that Danny is not a coward, not yellow, not lily-livered, and no Williams ever shirked doing something that really, truly mattered, and this should not be so fucking hard to do.
Except, of course, that the object of his affections is Steve. And the words 'romantic gesture' and 'Steve McGarrett' clearly do not belong together, Danny thinks, as he surveys the wreckage of the fancy restaurant he'd booked for the occasion. Although maybe it's not really Steve's fault that the gunmen decided to relieve the clientele of their valuables just as Danny was about to go down on one knee.
Asking Rachel to marry him was one hell of a lot easier.
Sometimes he wonders what it would be like to just give it up to Danny. To let Danny take control, let Danny put him on his knees and fuck his mouth, let Danny cuff him to the bed and use him for his own pleasure.
Danny's lying on the bed, loosely curled up, with Steve curled around him, fucking him slow and easy, his hand lazy on Danny's dick. It's Saturday afternoon, they've nothing to do, no place to be, and Steve is uncharacteristically relaxed; Danny's just floating, brain offline, enjoying what Steve's dick and Steve's hand are doing and looking forward to coming sometime in the not-too-distant future, so Steve's unexpected statement completely blindsides him.
"You what?"
Steve ups his rhythm slightly, and increases the pressure on Danny's dick. "I said, I think you should move in with me. I mean, I've got plenty of space here, and it isn't as if you don't already spend most of your nights here anyway. So move in with me, Danny, you know it makes sense," and right then he does that thing with his wrist that drives Danny out of his fucking mind, and snaps his hips just so, and all of a sudden it makes perfect sense to Danny.
And really, if Steve's prepared to be that persuasive, how can Danny refuse?
"You ran background on him?" "I just thought..." "You ran background on my daughter's date? "And you didn't think about it, Danny? Honest to God? It didn't cross your mind?" "Of course not! What sort of father does a thing like that?" "You?" "Didn't need to, did I, babe? I've got this insanely suspicious partner..."
Of course Danny wouldn't run a background check on Grace's date--he knows Steve's already pulled every relevant file there is on him--I almost feel bad for the kid.
“I never said you were! What I said was, and I believe we’ve had this discussion before, what I said was,” and Danny jabs Steve’s chest with his finger, “that it is not acceptable to dangle a suspect out of a fifth-floor window. Under any circumstances, you understand me? I thought we’d got this clear, I thought I’d finally managed to drill it into your Neanderthal brain that dangling a suspect out off of any sort of roof or out of any sort of window more than one storey above the ground is not acceptable police procedure. But please, tell me I’m wrong, tell me I hadn’t made myself crystal clear the last time this happened?”
Steve shuts up under the onslaught, because Danny’s voice is starting to hit the higher registers, and Steve’s learnt that that’s the time to just let Danny run. Besides, although he’d die before admitting it, he enjoys the show. He finds Danny in full rant mode disturbingly hot, can’t help but wonder what it would be like if all that tension and fire and passion were directed at a different focus altogether, appreciates in a totally visceral way the flush that Danny’s skin takes on when he really lets rip. Knows he’s damned for feeling that way, that it’s not the way he should be feeling about his partner. Not acceptable police procedure at all, as Danny would undoubtedly remind him forcibly and with considerable physical violence if he ever acted on his feelings.
The finger jabs him again. “Are you even listening to me, McGarrett? Hey, up there in the stratosphere, you hearing this?”
And Steve rolls his eyes and plays along, because Danny's expecting push back, expecting to be called on this, expecting resistance, and if he gets it he'll be good for another full ten minutes...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The stuff of nightmares...
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S/L F-or-D
Trained to endure torture
He can do this, he thinks. He's a SEAL, he's trained to perform in difficult and dangerous situations. He can do this to save their lives, and then afterwards he can arrange a transfer to prevent any... awkwardness. Because surely the Governor will see sense. He closes his eyes, forces himself to lay hands on soft skin and smooth curves, and imagines hard muscle and broad shoulders under his touch, the rasp of stubble against his skin, a quite different blond spread out underneath him.
He can't do this without Danny's help.
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First contact
First contact
Danny can smell him even before he steps inside the garage. He’s not met another one since he came to Hawaii, he was beginning to think he was the only one of his kind on the island, and it’s better that way usually, easier to hide what he is if he’s alone. But this scent is unmistakeable: a male, in his prime unless Danny’s nose is mistaken, and it rarely is, and Danny feels his blood quicken as he pulls his gun and steps inside.
The guy is tall, dark and lean, and oh yes, Danny’s not wrong, in his prime. His body language screams ‘alpha’, and that’s going to be interesting, because Danny’s not exactly used to not being top dog either, and is this island really going to be big enough for the both of them come the next full moon?
He gives no sign of knowing what Danny is, but there’s no way he doesn’t know, no way he can’t smell it on Danny the way Danny’s smelling it on him, there’s no mistaking it. The confrontation is pure alpha, the two of them prowling round one another, hackles raised, and by the time McGarrett leaves with the box and control of the case, Danny’s seriously pissed. Strike one to McGarrett, but Danny’s not one to roll over and play dead. This doesn’t end here.
Re: First contact
THANK YOU FOR SO MUCH AWESOMENESS!
*pets and loves forever*
Werewolves! <3
Man, oh man... you know my happy place so well. *g*
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The Proposal
The Proposal
Danny is a man of experience, he's done this before, he knows how it goes. Or how it should go, anyway. Plus, he's followed this guy into firefights and off cliffs (well at least one cliff), worries constantly about his lack of concern for his own personal safety, and endures his bitching about what Danny eats and wears with a fortitude that proves that what he's feeling for the big idiot must be love.
And the sex is amazing. There is that, too.
Add to that the fact that Danny is not a coward, not yellow, not lily-livered, and no Williams ever shirked doing something that really, truly mattered, and this should not be so fucking hard to do.
Except, of course, that the object of his affections is Steve. And the words 'romantic gesture' and 'Steve McGarrett' clearly do not belong together, Danny thinks, as he surveys the wreckage of the fancy restaurant he'd booked for the occasion. Although maybe it's not really Steve's fault that the gunmen decided to relieve the clientele of their valuables just as Danny was about to go down on one knee.
Asking Rachel to marry him was one hell of a lot easier.
Re: The Proposal
Thanks! This was great. :D
If only...
If only...
Sometimes he wonders what it would be like to just give it up to Danny. To let Danny take control, let Danny put him on his knees and fuck his mouth, let Danny cuff him to the bed and use him for his own pleasure.
The trouble is, he doesn't know how to ask.
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Moving in
Moving in
"I think you should move in with me."
Danny's lying on the bed, loosely curled up, with Steve curled around him, fucking him slow and easy, his hand lazy on Danny's dick. It's Saturday afternoon, they've nothing to do, no place to be, and Steve is uncharacteristically relaxed; Danny's just floating, brain offline, enjoying what Steve's dick and Steve's hand are doing and looking forward to coming sometime in the not-too-distant future, so Steve's unexpected statement completely blindsides him.
"You what?"
Steve ups his rhythm slightly, and increases the pressure on Danny's dick. "I said, I think you should move in with me. I mean, I've got plenty of space here, and it isn't as if you don't already spend most of your nights here anyway. So move in with me, Danny, you know it makes sense," and right then he does that thing with his wrist that drives Danny out of his fucking mind, and snaps his hips just so, and all of a sudden it makes perfect sense to Danny.
And really, if Steve's prepared to be that persuasive, how can Danny refuse?
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First date
First date
"You ran background on him?"
"I just thought..."
"You ran background on my daughter's date?
"And you didn't think about it, Danny? Honest to God? It didn't cross your mind?"
"Of course not! What sort of father does a thing like that?"
"You?"
"Didn't need to, did I, babe? I've got this insanely suspicious partner..."
Re: First date
Of course Danny wouldn't run a background check on Grace's date--he knows Steve's already pulled every relevant file there is on him--I almost feel bad for the kid.
Happy Halloween :):)
Re: First date
That's entertainment...
That's entertainment...
“I was not going to kill him!”
“I never said you were! What I said was, and I believe we’ve had this discussion before, what I said was,” and Danny jabs Steve’s chest with his finger, “that it is not acceptable to dangle a suspect out of a fifth-floor window. Under any circumstances, you understand me? I thought we’d got this clear, I thought I’d finally managed to drill it into your Neanderthal brain that dangling a suspect out off of any sort of roof or out of any sort of window more than one storey above the ground is not acceptable police procedure. But please, tell me I’m wrong, tell me I hadn’t made myself crystal clear the last time this happened?”
Steve shuts up under the onslaught, because Danny’s voice is starting to hit the higher registers, and Steve’s learnt that that’s the time to just let Danny run. Besides, although he’d die before admitting it, he enjoys the show. He finds Danny in full rant mode disturbingly hot, can’t help but wonder what it would be like if all that tension and fire and passion were directed at a different focus altogether, appreciates in a totally visceral way the flush that Danny’s skin takes on when he really lets rip. Knows he’s damned for feeling that way, that it’s not the way he should be feeling about his partner. Not acceptable police procedure at all, as Danny would undoubtedly remind him forcibly and with considerable physical violence if he ever acted on his feelings.
The finger jabs him again. “Are you even listening to me, McGarrett? Hey, up there in the stratosphere, you hearing this?”
And Steve rolls his eyes and plays along, because Danny's expecting push back, expecting to be called on this, expecting resistance, and if he gets it he'll be good for another full ten minutes...
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Thanks! and Happy Halloween!
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I promise to take such good care of them both!!!
;)
♥♥♥
Fall colors
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