let's be honest, I've never met a cliche I didn't like

[angelgazing]

Because there is no such thing as too much of a good thing, especially if you live in paradise:

The Hawaii Five-0 Cliche Meme

Fake boyfriends, accidental marriages, and amnesia, OH MY!

Whatever your poison, whatever you favorite cliche, it's open and allowed here. Want to see Steve and Danny make out for cover and discover their ~true feelings? What about when they have to pretend to be boyfriends to keep cover? When they're forced to share a bed all ~platonic-like for weeks and keep waking up cuddling and then can't sleep without each other? Maybe Grace playing matchmaker? The one where everyone but them realizes they're married? Danny gets de-aged to six and Steve has to take care of him? Steve gets magicked into a tiny, angry kitten and/or dragon? They one where they must cuddle for warmth to survive?

Maybe that isn't your flavor. Maybe you want the one where Kono is a punk rock princess that keeps getting into trouble? Or where Chin loses his memory and thinks he's back on the HPD force. Maybe the one where Kono is secretly a criminal mastermind, working the team from the inside. Or where she has the chance return to her pro surfing career and must choose. How about one where Chin goes on an epic road trip?

There is no bad cliche! Whatever your favorite, I promise I want to read/see it, too.

The Rules

♥ Every cliche welcome!
♥ All pairings, ratings, mediums, and genres can be included!
♥ Any word count works!
♥ Have fun and be kind. ♥♥♥

Comment and share the love! ♥

Comments

Sounds Like Love, Steve/Danny (2/?)

[elandrialore.livejournal.com]

The third time was planned in advance, but it didn't cut down on the awkwardness at all.

"I don't like it," Steve said, "Kono's known down there, someone's going to recognize her."

"They probably won't recognize you," Kono said easily.

And Steve didn't get it until Danny froze right next to him and said, "You've got to be shitting me."

When he did get it, he tensed as well: one part of his mind screaming at him, Abort! Abort! and the other part figuring all the angles of how it could work. The professional side of him won, and he took a deep breath before turning to Danny and saying in the most neutral voice possible, "It could work."

Danny's eyebrows flew up and his eyes went wide and his hands started flailing as he said, "Are you insane?"

But Steve had gotten pretty good at reading Danny and knew when he was mostly bluster, and this time he was. Because yeah, it was going to be uncomfortable as hell, but this was their job and it was a good plan. So all he said was, "Danny," and what he sounded like was, We can do this, and, This is our job, but what he meant was, I promise I won't take advantage of you again.

He made good on his promise. He and Danny had walked hand in hand down the private stretch of beach owned by the hotel, eaten in all the restaurants with their heads bowed close together, and even danced one night, pressed body to body so they could keep an eye on the couple they suspected of murdering six people across two islands.

In fact, the only time things got tense was entirely Danny’s fault. They were at dinner on their first night there, and bickering about the case had turned to bickering about the awful crap that Danny sometimes ate, which led to Danny ordering the most sinfully rich dessert that he could find on the menu.

Which would have been fine until Danny fluttered his eyes closed, moaned, and said, “Oh, Jesus, Steve, this is amazing.”

Steve didn’t even think about it, just reached across the table to grab Danny’s hand, guiding the fork to his own mouth. It was rich and creamy and chocolately, and Steve might have been more impressed if he hadn’t caught Danny’s wide blue eyes and watched him swallow hard underneath the dark knot of his tie.

“S’good,” Steve said, licking his lips, and then there was a jangle of cutlery as Danny stood up abruptly and excused himself.

When he came back all he said was, “Let’s get out of here,” and didn’t mention his dessert, which still sat on the table mostly untouched.

Steve had to brush his teeth for five minutes before the bitter taste of chocolate disappeared.

But that wasn’t even the worst one, oh no. Because Steve had obviously fucked up hardcore in a past life, which meant in this one he had to pay and pay and pay.

How that fuckup translated into him having to go undercover as some sort of male escort, Steve would never know, but he ended up half undressed and collared at a high priced event where everyone but the entertainment was wearing thousands of dollars worth of clothes and jewelry.

It was going fine. Steve was pretty good at compartmentalizing and ignoring the staring and touching and he didn’t have to work very hard before he came up with a list of solid suspects. There was Guillermo near the bar who had hard eyes and at least two concealed weapons. There was Eleanor by the lounges who had a sparkling laugh and a vicious temper, and then there was Steve’s pick, Brady Waterston, who just felt wrong.

Steve had been making his way over to Waterston’s secluded corner of the room for the better part of an hour when Danny unexpectedly walked through the doorway in a what looked like a six thousand dollar suit and slicked back hair. He zeroed in on Steve almost immediately and strode over to him, and Steve’s urge to drag Danny into a dark corner and peel him out of his suit along was paired with the equally strong urge to demand what the hell was going on, because Danny showing up had not been in the plan.

“You’re with me,” Danny said, his voice clipped.