Danny throws his hands up in the air. "Nice comeback. Are you sure you didn't hurt yourself coming up with that one?"
"I don't like surprises. Random exes I’ve heard nothing about count as surprising.”
“What do you want from me? A list of everyone I’ve ever been close to? Names, birthdays, social security?”
“Just the truth.”
“Just the truth. Yeah right, just the truth.” Danny covers his face with his hands for a minute, growling in frustration, and then replies. "OK, here it is: we screwed around a little. That’s it. No epic romance; no secret conspiracy.”
“Then why lie about it?”
“What, you’ve never done shit you weren’t proud of? I wasn't married anymore when we hooked up; he was. Is," Danny corrects himself. “I know Mara; their daughter used to have playdates with Grace before… you know.” He gestures to his eye and then lets his hands fall to his sides, looking so hysterically forlorn Steve can’t resist pulling his metaphorical pigtails.
“So what you’re saying is, you’re a low-down dirty homewrecker.”
Danny shakes his head. “I cost my kid a friend. And by the way, this is exactly why I don’t tell you these things. You think my fuckups are a) hilarious and b) things I want to be reminded of all the freaking time.”
Steve just shrugs. “Point.”
“You know, what I really don’t get is why you got your panties in such a bunch. You don’t have a problem with Rachel.”
“Rachel’s not still hung up on you,” Steve shoots back but the fire is bleeding out of him now, as the time creeps towards ass-o’clock. “Rachel doesn’t show up on your doorstep in the middle of the night for a booty call.”
“Which you know I had no intention of answering, whether you were here to protect my virtue or not,” Danny says, with his hand over his heart.
“Doesn’t mean the guy’s not a raging dick.”
Danny narrows his eyes and stares, like he’s trying to take Steve apart and figure out how to put him back together. It’s still unnerving after all these months, but now it’s layered with Steve’s knowledge of the things Danny can do when he makes you the centre of his attention, and it makes Steve’s skin prickle with want.
“Jealousy, huh? Are you sure that’s it?” Danny says finally, pitching his voice low.
“Why? What do you think is it, Dr. Phil?”
Danny smiles and shakes his head. “What do I think? I suspect that you were harboring some secret fantasy about being the guy who turned me queer.”
Steve laughs out loud at that. He can’t help it; Danny’s ego is a force to be reckoned with. “You want to know about my fantasies all you have to do is ask.”
“I would but it’s two o’clock in the morning and when I go to pick up Gracie tomorrow I’d like not to fall asleep at the wheel and kill myself. So, if you’re ready, Commander McGarrett,” Danny says, gesturing expansively at the pull-out.
Titles. Kinky. Steve files that one away for later. “After you, Detective.”
Danny undoes his pants and slips them off, but since he apparently considers himself a master at multi-tasking he gets in a dig at Steve at the same time. “You don’t want to interrogate me some more?”
“I think you’re off the suspect list. But if you see anything unusual, any strange people hanging around you let me know, now.” Steve strips off and slides under the covers, wriggling to try and get comfortable on the worn mattress.
Danny joins him, looking thoughtful again. “Well, there is this one guy who’s, like, psychotically possessive.”
Steve rolls his eyes and grins. “Sounds dangerous. You want me to keep an eye out for him?”
“Nah, I’ve got it covered,” Danny replies, leaning across Steve to snap off the light and using the opportunity to press Steve down and plant a kiss on him. It’s slow and lazy, the kind of kiss they don’t have time for all that often, and it makes Steve wish things were different. That it was a different day, or that they had a different job – one that would be a cake-walk on three hours’ sleep.
The Jackass 4/?
"I don't like surprises. Random exes I’ve heard nothing about count as surprising.”
“What do you want from me? A list of everyone I’ve ever been close to? Names, birthdays, social security?”
“Just the truth.”
“Just the truth. Yeah right, just the truth.” Danny covers his face with his hands for a minute, growling in frustration, and then replies. "OK, here it is: we screwed around a little. That’s it. No epic romance; no secret conspiracy.”
“Then why lie about it?”
“What, you’ve never done shit you weren’t proud of? I wasn't married anymore when we hooked up; he was. Is," Danny corrects himself. “I know Mara; their daughter used to have playdates with Grace before… you know.” He gestures to his eye and then lets his hands fall to his sides, looking so hysterically forlorn Steve can’t resist pulling his metaphorical pigtails.
“So what you’re saying is, you’re a low-down dirty homewrecker.”
Danny shakes his head. “I cost my kid a friend. And by the way, this is exactly why I don’t tell you these things. You think my fuckups are a) hilarious and b) things I want to be reminded of all the freaking time.”
Steve just shrugs. “Point.”
“You know, what I really don’t get is why you got your panties in such a bunch. You don’t have a problem with Rachel.”
“Rachel’s not still hung up on you,” Steve shoots back but the fire is bleeding out of him now, as the time creeps towards ass-o’clock. “Rachel doesn’t show up on your doorstep in the middle of the night for a booty call.”
“Which you know I had no intention of answering, whether you were here to protect my virtue or not,” Danny says, with his hand over his heart.
“Doesn’t mean the guy’s not a raging dick.”
Danny narrows his eyes and stares, like he’s trying to take Steve apart and figure out how to put him back together. It’s still unnerving after all these months, but now it’s layered with Steve’s knowledge of the things Danny can do when he makes you the centre of his attention, and it makes Steve’s skin prickle with want.
“Jealousy, huh? Are you sure that’s it?” Danny says finally, pitching his voice low.
“Why? What do you think is it, Dr. Phil?”
Danny smiles and shakes his head. “What do I think? I suspect that you were harboring some secret fantasy about being the guy who turned me queer.”
Steve laughs out loud at that. He can’t help it; Danny’s ego is a force to be reckoned with. “You want to know about my fantasies all you have to do is ask.”
“I would but it’s two o’clock in the morning and when I go to pick up Gracie tomorrow I’d like not to fall asleep at the wheel and kill myself. So, if you’re ready, Commander McGarrett,” Danny says, gesturing expansively at the pull-out.
Titles. Kinky. Steve files that one away for later. “After you, Detective.”
Danny undoes his pants and slips them off, but since he apparently considers himself a master at multi-tasking he gets in a dig at Steve at the same time. “You don’t want to interrogate me some more?”
“I think you’re off the suspect list. But if you see anything unusual, any strange people hanging around you let me know, now.” Steve strips off and slides under the covers, wriggling to try and get comfortable on the worn mattress.
Danny joins him, looking thoughtful again. “Well, there is this one guy who’s, like, psychotically possessive.”
Steve rolls his eyes and grins. “Sounds dangerous. You want me to keep an eye out for him?”
“Nah, I’ve got it covered,” Danny replies, leaning across Steve to snap off the light and using the opportunity to press Steve down and plant a kiss on him. It’s slow and lazy, the kind of kiss they don’t have time for all that often, and it makes Steve wish things were different. That it was a different day, or that they had a different job – one that would be a cake-walk on three hours’ sleep.