H50 Fic - In the Open
Dec. 12th, 2011 12:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shinysylverTitle: In the Open
Author![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shinysylver
Recipient:finduilas_clln
Characters/Pairing: Steve/Danny
Word Count: 1820
Rating PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Hawaii Five-0.
Warnings: none
Spoilers: 2.10 coda
Summary: Steve's booze may taste like paint thinner, but it gets the job done. Or the one where Steve realizes that life is too short.
Author's Note:Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
h50_holidayswap. I hope you like this finduilas_clln!! I wanted to give you Danny-Pig but you said no shifter-verse on your request. Oh well, I think that this one is right up your alley anyway. *hugs* Many thanks to somehowunbroken for the beta.
Steve was hiding. He knew it was cowardly, but he wasn’t in the mood to celebrate anything. He could hear the laughter trickling in from his living room and he felt removed from it, from everything.
He took a deep drink of his beer, trying to dull the ache in his shoulders almost as much as the ache in his chest.
“Hey,” Danny said, leaning against the kitchen doorway. “I was wondering where you got to.”
“I’m hardly hiding.” Steve said, the words sounding hollow to his own ears.
Danny raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He nodded at the half empty beer bottle in Steve’s hand. “How many is that?”
Steve looked down at the bottle, rubbing his thumb absently along the edge of the peeling label. “Four…I think.”
“Damn,” Danny shook his head. He opened the cabinet above the sink and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. “I’m behind.”
“You planning to catch up in one go?” Steve asked, watching Danny pour himself at least four fingers of bourbon.
Danny shrugged. He waved a hand in the direction of the living room. “All the wedding talk is giving me a headache.” He took a sip of his bourbon, wincing a bit, and eyed the bottle suspiciously. “You couldn’t spring for the good stuff, could you?”
“It’s fine,” Steve said. He grabbed the bourbon out of Danny’s hands and took a swig straight from the bottle. It burned going down, but the small tendrils of warmth spreading out from his stomach felt good.
Danny snatched the bottle back. “What do you think this is? A frat party?” He got another glass out and filled it halfway before passing it to Steve. “I swear you were raised in a barn.”
Steve felt his lips twitch up at Danny’s words.
“There it is,” Danny said, all his frustration gone.
“There what is?” Steve asked.
“Your smile,” Danny replied. He took another drink of his bourbon. “I haven’t seen much of it lately.”
Steve dropped his eyes and stared at his drink. He twirled the glass, watching the amber liquid slosh around. “There hasn’t been a lot to smile about.”
“I know, babe. I know.” Danny moved next to Steve, bumping their arms together gently.
Steve swallowed half of his drink in one gulp and rubbed his shoulder tiredly.
“Still bothering you?” Danny asked.
Steve nodded. “I was hanging for a long time and I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Danny sighed. “Steve, no one is young enough to go through torture without some aches and pains.”
Steve inclined his head in agreement. “I swear it didn’t hurt this much last time, though.”
“You know, I really hate that you can do that,” Danny muttered. He reached for the bottle and filled his glass all the way to the top, his hand shaking. “Normal people don’t get tortured enough to have a basis for comparison. Normal people don’t get hung up and cattle prodded in North Korea.”
Steve reached out and took the bottle away from Danny’s shaking hand. He set the bottle on the counter and grabbed Danny’s hand in his own squeezing gently. “I’m fine,” he murmured. “I will be fine,” Steve amended when Danny stared at him, disbelief written clearly across his face.
“Damn right you will be,” Danny said. He squeezed Steve’s hand back before letting go and taking a gulp of the bourbon, shuddering as he forced it down. “Seriously? Where did you get this?” He picked up the bottle and studied the label. “Are you sure this isn’t paint thinner?”
Steve opened the refrigerator and pulled out one of the Cokes Danny had stocked it with when he moved in. He poured a bit in Danny’s glass, topping it off. “There. Think you can stop whining now?”
“I do not whine,” Danny said, feigning offense.
“Of course not,” Steve said, doing his best to keep a straight face.
Danny glared at Steve and managed to keep an outraged expression on his face for a few seconds before he laughed, winking at Steve.
Danny’s laughter was contagious and Steve found himself joining in, triggering a sharp pain in his bruised ribs. He wrapped his arm around his chest.
“Steve?” Danny asked, staring at Steve’s arm in concern.
“It’s nothing,” Steve responded. “Don’t make me laugh and my ribs won’t hurt.”
“I’m assuming you turned down the painkillers like usual?” When Steve nodded, Danny reached out and nudged the hand that Steve was holding his glass with. “Drink up then.”
Steve raised his glass, taking a deep drink. He didn’t have to be told twice. Between his shoulders and his ribs, he was in more pain that he wanted to admit, and that was just the physical pain. He was doing his best not to think about the dull, lifeless eyes that stared up at him from his nightmares. Steve knew that his nightmares had woken Danny several times this week, but he appreciated the other man not mentioning it.
A loud cheer went up in the living room, drawing both of their attention.
“Sounds like they’re having a good time,” Danny said.
“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “I’m glad. Chin deserves it.”
Danny nodded. He raised his nearly empty glass. “To Chin and Malia.”
Steve clinked his glass against Danny’s before downing the rest of his drink. He reached for the bottle and was disappointed to find that it was empty. He shook it at Danny. “How full was this when we started?”
Danny frowned at Steve. “All the way, I think.” He stretched up and opened the cabinet pulling out another bottle, this time tequila. He opened it and took a swig before passing it to Steve.
“I thought only animals…and frat boys…drank from the bottle,” Steve said, noticing that his words were beginning to slur.
“That’s true for bourbon,” Danny said. “But this is tequila. It’s completely different.”
Steve laughed, barely keeping his grip on the bottle, and was glad to find that his ribs didn’t hurt as much this time. Once he got his laughter under control he swallowed a mouthful of the tequila, mildly surprised at the lack of burn.
Danny took the bottle from him, took another drink, and tried to put the top back on. He missed the bottle several times before he managed to line up the threads and screw on the cap. “I think I’m drunk.”
“I think you’re right,” Steve agreed.
“Are you drunk?” Danny asked, rising up on his tip toes to stare into Steve’s face.
Danny was wavering unsteadily on his tip toes and Steve couldn’t resist reaching out and nudging his shoulder. Danny started to topple over and Steve reached out, grabbing his hand and pulling him in close.
“I take that as a yes,” Danny muttered. He slapped Steve lightly with his free hand. “Don’t do that.”
“Sorry,” Steve said. He looked down at their joined hands, fascinated by how small Danny’s palm was against his own. Even drunk, Steve knew better than to mention that to Danny though. Instead he adjusted his grip on Danny’s hand, twining their fingers together and laid his free hand lightly on Danny’s hip.
“Someone could come in,” Danny said.
“I don’t care.”
Danny stared at him intently, but didn’t say anything.
“I really don’t care,” Steve said. “Life’s too short.”
“Okay then.” Danny yanked hard on the front of Steve’s shirt, dragging him in for a kiss.
It was an uncoordinated, sloppy kiss but Steve didn’t care because it was Danny and that was all that mattered. Every time Danny kissed him was good, messy or not, and this time there was the added excitement of maybe being caught. Steve was tired of hiding; he’d meant what he said. Life really was too short to waste.
“Danny,” Steve whispered, his lips still pressed against Danny’s. “Love you.”
Danny paused--frozen mid-kiss—and Steve held his breath. They’d never said the words before, but after everything that he’d been through he couldn’t hold them back. He needed Danny to know how he felt in case something like North Korea happened again. Steve couldn’t die without Danny knowing.
Just as Steve was starting to think he’d made a mistake, Danny let go of Steve’s hand and wrapped both arms around him, pulling Steve flush against his body. “Love you, too,” Danny murmured, capturing Steve’s bottom lip between his teeth. “So much.”
Steve relaxed against Danny, sliding one hand down to cup Danny’s ass, kneading it gently. Danny moaned and lowered his forehead to rest against Steve’s chest. “Stop.”
“Stop?” Steve asked, stilling his hand.
“I’m not drunk enough to do this with an entire engagement party a few feet away.”
Steve laughed. “I forgot.”
Danny stepped back and grabbed Steve’s hand tugging him toward the door. “Come on, the best man can’t hide in the kitchen all night.”
“Not hiding,” Steve mumbled, but he let Danny drag him into the living room.
A few eyes looked up at their entrance, but quickly returned to Malia as she recounted Chin’s proposal.
“They’re happy,” Kono said, joining them in the back of the crowd.
“They deserve it,” Steve said, absently rubbing his thumb across Danny’s knuckles.
“They do,” Kono agreed. She smiled and looked pointedly down at Steve and Danny’s joined hands. “What about you? You happy?”
“Yeah,” Steve answered. “Yeah, I am.”
“And it only took him half a bottle of bourbon to admit it.” Danny stage whispered to Kono.
Steve rolled his eyes. “I can hear you, you know.”
“That was the point.”
Kono laughed and raised her beer in their direction. “Well I’m glad you’re happy.”
“Hey, Danny!” Chin called out. “Come tell that story about Atlantic City.”
Danny squeezed Steve’s hand and let go, walking over to join the crowd. He stood next to Chin and started talking, gesturing excitedly.
“So,” Kono said, dragging the vowel out. “You and Danny, huh?”
Steve glanced over at her. “You aren’t really surprised?”
She shook her head. “Not in the least.”
Steve grinned at her.
“He’s pretty high maintenance. You sure you’re up for it?”
Steve felt defensive on Danny's behalf, but he knew what Kono meant. Danny came with a lot of baggage, but so did Steve. He closed his eyes and let his mind go back to North Korea and that moment when Danny entered the truck. He’d been sure that this time was it--that he was really going to die--but then Danny was there. He was always there.
Steve opened his eyes and looked back at Danny, listening as he retold the same story Steve had heard a million times, and Steve found that he wanted to hear it again. He was pretty sure that he could listen to the same story for the rest of his life and never get tired of hearing it, as long as Danny was the one telling it.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
Author
shinysylverRecipient:
finduilas_cllnCharacters/Pairing: Steve/Danny
Word Count: 1820
Rating PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Hawaii Five-0.
Warnings: none
Spoilers: 2.10 coda
Summary: Steve's booze may taste like paint thinner, but it gets the job done. Or the one where Steve realizes that life is too short.
Author's Note:Written for the
h50_holidayswap. I hope you like this finduilas_clln!! I wanted to give you Danny-Pig but you said no shifter-verse on your request. Oh well, I think that this one is right up your alley anyway. *hugs* Many thanks to somehowunbroken for the beta. Steve was hiding. He knew it was cowardly, but he wasn’t in the mood to celebrate anything. He could hear the laughter trickling in from his living room and he felt removed from it, from everything.
He took a deep drink of his beer, trying to dull the ache in his shoulders almost as much as the ache in his chest.
“Hey,” Danny said, leaning against the kitchen doorway. “I was wondering where you got to.”
“I’m hardly hiding.” Steve said, the words sounding hollow to his own ears.
Danny raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He nodded at the half empty beer bottle in Steve’s hand. “How many is that?”
Steve looked down at the bottle, rubbing his thumb absently along the edge of the peeling label. “Four…I think.”
“Damn,” Danny shook his head. He opened the cabinet above the sink and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. “I’m behind.”
“You planning to catch up in one go?” Steve asked, watching Danny pour himself at least four fingers of bourbon.
Danny shrugged. He waved a hand in the direction of the living room. “All the wedding talk is giving me a headache.” He took a sip of his bourbon, wincing a bit, and eyed the bottle suspiciously. “You couldn’t spring for the good stuff, could you?”
“It’s fine,” Steve said. He grabbed the bourbon out of Danny’s hands and took a swig straight from the bottle. It burned going down, but the small tendrils of warmth spreading out from his stomach felt good.
Danny snatched the bottle back. “What do you think this is? A frat party?” He got another glass out and filled it halfway before passing it to Steve. “I swear you were raised in a barn.”
Steve felt his lips twitch up at Danny’s words.
“There it is,” Danny said, all his frustration gone.
“There what is?” Steve asked.
“Your smile,” Danny replied. He took another drink of his bourbon. “I haven’t seen much of it lately.”
Steve dropped his eyes and stared at his drink. He twirled the glass, watching the amber liquid slosh around. “There hasn’t been a lot to smile about.”
“I know, babe. I know.” Danny moved next to Steve, bumping their arms together gently.
Steve swallowed half of his drink in one gulp and rubbed his shoulder tiredly.
“Still bothering you?” Danny asked.
Steve nodded. “I was hanging for a long time and I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Danny sighed. “Steve, no one is young enough to go through torture without some aches and pains.”
Steve inclined his head in agreement. “I swear it didn’t hurt this much last time, though.”
“You know, I really hate that you can do that,” Danny muttered. He reached for the bottle and filled his glass all the way to the top, his hand shaking. “Normal people don’t get tortured enough to have a basis for comparison. Normal people don’t get hung up and cattle prodded in North Korea.”
Steve reached out and took the bottle away from Danny’s shaking hand. He set the bottle on the counter and grabbed Danny’s hand in his own squeezing gently. “I’m fine,” he murmured. “I will be fine,” Steve amended when Danny stared at him, disbelief written clearly across his face.
“Damn right you will be,” Danny said. He squeezed Steve’s hand back before letting go and taking a gulp of the bourbon, shuddering as he forced it down. “Seriously? Where did you get this?” He picked up the bottle and studied the label. “Are you sure this isn’t paint thinner?”
Steve opened the refrigerator and pulled out one of the Cokes Danny had stocked it with when he moved in. He poured a bit in Danny’s glass, topping it off. “There. Think you can stop whining now?”
“I do not whine,” Danny said, feigning offense.
“Of course not,” Steve said, doing his best to keep a straight face.
Danny glared at Steve and managed to keep an outraged expression on his face for a few seconds before he laughed, winking at Steve.
Danny’s laughter was contagious and Steve found himself joining in, triggering a sharp pain in his bruised ribs. He wrapped his arm around his chest.
“Steve?” Danny asked, staring at Steve’s arm in concern.
“It’s nothing,” Steve responded. “Don’t make me laugh and my ribs won’t hurt.”
“I’m assuming you turned down the painkillers like usual?” When Steve nodded, Danny reached out and nudged the hand that Steve was holding his glass with. “Drink up then.”
Steve raised his glass, taking a deep drink. He didn’t have to be told twice. Between his shoulders and his ribs, he was in more pain that he wanted to admit, and that was just the physical pain. He was doing his best not to think about the dull, lifeless eyes that stared up at him from his nightmares. Steve knew that his nightmares had woken Danny several times this week, but he appreciated the other man not mentioning it.
A loud cheer went up in the living room, drawing both of their attention.
“Sounds like they’re having a good time,” Danny said.
“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “I’m glad. Chin deserves it.”
Danny nodded. He raised his nearly empty glass. “To Chin and Malia.”
Steve clinked his glass against Danny’s before downing the rest of his drink. He reached for the bottle and was disappointed to find that it was empty. He shook it at Danny. “How full was this when we started?”
Danny frowned at Steve. “All the way, I think.” He stretched up and opened the cabinet pulling out another bottle, this time tequila. He opened it and took a swig before passing it to Steve.
“I thought only animals…and frat boys…drank from the bottle,” Steve said, noticing that his words were beginning to slur.
“That’s true for bourbon,” Danny said. “But this is tequila. It’s completely different.”
Steve laughed, barely keeping his grip on the bottle, and was glad to find that his ribs didn’t hurt as much this time. Once he got his laughter under control he swallowed a mouthful of the tequila, mildly surprised at the lack of burn.
Danny took the bottle from him, took another drink, and tried to put the top back on. He missed the bottle several times before he managed to line up the threads and screw on the cap. “I think I’m drunk.”
“I think you’re right,” Steve agreed.
“Are you drunk?” Danny asked, rising up on his tip toes to stare into Steve’s face.
Danny was wavering unsteadily on his tip toes and Steve couldn’t resist reaching out and nudging his shoulder. Danny started to topple over and Steve reached out, grabbing his hand and pulling him in close.
“I take that as a yes,” Danny muttered. He slapped Steve lightly with his free hand. “Don’t do that.”
“Sorry,” Steve said. He looked down at their joined hands, fascinated by how small Danny’s palm was against his own. Even drunk, Steve knew better than to mention that to Danny though. Instead he adjusted his grip on Danny’s hand, twining their fingers together and laid his free hand lightly on Danny’s hip.
“Someone could come in,” Danny said.
“I don’t care.”
Danny stared at him intently, but didn’t say anything.
“I really don’t care,” Steve said. “Life’s too short.”
“Okay then.” Danny yanked hard on the front of Steve’s shirt, dragging him in for a kiss.
It was an uncoordinated, sloppy kiss but Steve didn’t care because it was Danny and that was all that mattered. Every time Danny kissed him was good, messy or not, and this time there was the added excitement of maybe being caught. Steve was tired of hiding; he’d meant what he said. Life really was too short to waste.
“Danny,” Steve whispered, his lips still pressed against Danny’s. “Love you.”
Danny paused--frozen mid-kiss—and Steve held his breath. They’d never said the words before, but after everything that he’d been through he couldn’t hold them back. He needed Danny to know how he felt in case something like North Korea happened again. Steve couldn’t die without Danny knowing.
Just as Steve was starting to think he’d made a mistake, Danny let go of Steve’s hand and wrapped both arms around him, pulling Steve flush against his body. “Love you, too,” Danny murmured, capturing Steve’s bottom lip between his teeth. “So much.”
Steve relaxed against Danny, sliding one hand down to cup Danny’s ass, kneading it gently. Danny moaned and lowered his forehead to rest against Steve’s chest. “Stop.”
“Stop?” Steve asked, stilling his hand.
“I’m not drunk enough to do this with an entire engagement party a few feet away.”
Steve laughed. “I forgot.”
Danny stepped back and grabbed Steve’s hand tugging him toward the door. “Come on, the best man can’t hide in the kitchen all night.”
“Not hiding,” Steve mumbled, but he let Danny drag him into the living room.
A few eyes looked up at their entrance, but quickly returned to Malia as she recounted Chin’s proposal.
“They’re happy,” Kono said, joining them in the back of the crowd.
“They deserve it,” Steve said, absently rubbing his thumb across Danny’s knuckles.
“They do,” Kono agreed. She smiled and looked pointedly down at Steve and Danny’s joined hands. “What about you? You happy?”
“Yeah,” Steve answered. “Yeah, I am.”
“And it only took him half a bottle of bourbon to admit it.” Danny stage whispered to Kono.
Steve rolled his eyes. “I can hear you, you know.”
“That was the point.”
Kono laughed and raised her beer in their direction. “Well I’m glad you’re happy.”
“Hey, Danny!” Chin called out. “Come tell that story about Atlantic City.”
Danny squeezed Steve’s hand and let go, walking over to join the crowd. He stood next to Chin and started talking, gesturing excitedly.
“So,” Kono said, dragging the vowel out. “You and Danny, huh?”
Steve glanced over at her. “You aren’t really surprised?”
She shook her head. “Not in the least.”
Steve grinned at her.
“He’s pretty high maintenance. You sure you’re up for it?”
Steve felt defensive on Danny's behalf, but he knew what Kono meant. Danny came with a lot of baggage, but so did Steve. He closed his eyes and let his mind go back to North Korea and that moment when Danny entered the truck. He’d been sure that this time was it--that he was really going to die--but then Danny was there. He was always there.
Steve opened his eyes and looked back at Danny, listening as he retold the same story Steve had heard a million times, and Steve found that he wanted to hear it again. He was pretty sure that he could listen to the same story for the rest of his life and never get tired of hearing it, as long as Danny was the one telling it.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
