You're not gonna chicken out now, Danny tells himself sternly as he loiters a couple houses away from Steve's place. You're going to walk in there, talk maybe, get this thing sorted out. Besides, if you have to spend one more night tossing and turning for hours, you might just end up breaking into Steve's house and climbing into his bed, anyway.
Well, that's sorted, then.
He walks up to Steve's front door and almost doesn't end up knocking anyway when he gets a good look at his reflection in the glass for the first time in several days. He's appalled at the state Steve has reduced him to -- the bags under his eyes are bruised, and the lines at the corners are way more pronounced than usually. He's pale, too, underneath the tan that has sneaked up on him when he wasn't looking. No wonder Kono was worried. He can only imagine what Steve thinks about all this.
The door flies open even before Danny has a chance to knock; Steve hulks over him, Aneurysm face firmly in place.
"What is it, Danny? Something wrong?" he says in a rush, looking behind Danny's shoulder for any possible danger. "And if you say 'I'm fine', I'm going to kick your Jersey ass all the way inside, you know I will. Come on, get in. You ready to tell me what the hell's going on with you?"
Danny follows Steve in, doesn't even have it in him to argue. When he walks through the door, the smell of it hits him so hard that his knees fold up right under him -- it smells like Steve, warm, safe, familiar, somewhere where he can let go at last.
Steve catches him before he tries to do it himself, pinning him to the wall to keep him upright.
"Jesus, Danny," he says, eyes roaming over him worriedly, hesitating over the blood-shot eyes, the grey tinge to his skin, the lax mouth, from up close and personal. "How long's it been since you last slept?"
Danny's anger catches up at last; he pushes Steve off, even if he sways when he steps away from the wall. Steve makes an aborted motion forward again, but Danny's glare stops him in his tracks.
"You wanna talk about that, huh? You wanna talk about how it's been two weeks since I last slept? You wanna talk about what the hell that was back in that tent? What did you do, McGarrett, blast me with pheromones or something? Is there a drug in your SEAL DNA make-up that enables you to forgo sleep, and you passed it on to me somehow? Because unlike you, normal people need sleep to function, and I can't get any. Do you know how pissed off that makes me feel?
"I'm getting some idea," Steve says dryly -- which is a mistake, because Danny's fed up with this bullshit, he's so tired he could spit, and he just wants to sleep for a goddamn week; but he can't do it without this--this--6'5'', 200 lb of muscle there at his back. What has his life come to?
"You. Get upstairs right now. Right. Now," he reiterates, jabbing a finger at him when Steve's mouth hangs open and he starts to protest. "I've spent the last two hundred and eighty hours more or less awake, and I am not shitting you when I say that I will kick your ass if you don't get into your bed right now and let me sleep!"
Steve stares at him for a few moments, speechless and blinking.
"So what you're saying is, you can't sleep without me," he states, and he looks like he doesn't know whether he should laugh or believe this is really happening to him. A small smile starts the long trek across his face; by the time Danny's glaring mulishly at him, Steve is positively beaming. "You should have said something, Danno!" he says happily, looking against all evidence to the contrary like it's Christmas morning.
Re: The one where Danny can't sleep without Steve, 4/5
Well, that's sorted, then.
He walks up to Steve's front door and almost doesn't end up knocking anyway when he gets a good look at his reflection in the glass for the first time in several days. He's appalled at the state Steve has reduced him to -- the bags under his eyes are bruised, and the lines at the corners are way more pronounced than usually. He's pale, too, underneath the tan that has sneaked up on him when he wasn't looking. No wonder Kono was worried. He can only imagine what Steve thinks about all this.
The door flies open even before Danny has a chance to knock; Steve hulks over him, Aneurysm face firmly in place.
"What is it, Danny? Something wrong?" he says in a rush, looking behind Danny's shoulder for any possible danger. "And if you say 'I'm fine', I'm going to kick your Jersey ass all the way inside, you know I will. Come on, get in. You ready to tell me what the hell's going on with you?"
Danny follows Steve in, doesn't even have it in him to argue. When he walks through the door, the smell of it hits him so hard that his knees fold up right under him -- it smells like Steve, warm, safe, familiar, somewhere where he can let go at last.
Steve catches him before he tries to do it himself, pinning him to the wall to keep him upright.
"Jesus, Danny," he says, eyes roaming over him worriedly, hesitating over the blood-shot eyes, the grey tinge to his skin, the lax mouth, from up close and personal. "How long's it been since you last slept?"
Danny's anger catches up at last; he pushes Steve off, even if he sways when he steps away from the wall. Steve makes an aborted motion forward again, but Danny's glare stops him in his tracks.
"You wanna talk about that, huh? You wanna talk about how it's been two weeks since I last slept? You wanna talk about what the hell that was back in that tent? What did you do, McGarrett, blast me with pheromones or something? Is there a drug in your SEAL DNA make-up that enables you to forgo sleep, and you passed it on to me somehow? Because unlike you, normal people need sleep to function, and I can't get any. Do you know how pissed off that makes me feel?
"I'm getting some idea," Steve says dryly -- which is a mistake, because Danny's fed up with this bullshit, he's so tired he could spit, and he just wants to sleep for a goddamn week; but he can't do it without this--this--6'5'', 200 lb of muscle there at his back. What has his life come to?
"You. Get upstairs right now. Right. Now," he reiterates, jabbing a finger at him when Steve's mouth hangs open and he starts to protest. "I've spent the last two hundred and eighty hours more or less awake, and I am not shitting you when I say that I will kick your ass if you don't get into your bed right now and let me sleep!"
Steve stares at him for a few moments, speechless and blinking.
"So what you're saying is, you can't sleep without me," he states, and he looks like he doesn't know whether he should laugh or believe this is really happening to him. A small smile starts the long trek across his face; by the time Danny's glaring mulishly at him, Steve is positively beaming. "You should have said something, Danno!" he says happily, looking against all evidence to the contrary like it's Christmas morning.
Danny is going to kill him, he really is.