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Danny’d been distracted during the meal. Not that he didn’t enjoy having a beautiful, attentive woman on each side. That was something he would never object to. The only thing was... well, to be honest, he was used to sitting next to Steve at events like that. And, he’d have thought Steve would have made a tiny bit of an effort to try and sit next to him—heck, usually Danny was embarrassed by the lengths to which Steve would go in order to sit next to his partner. But tonight... for some reason, Steve hadn’t even tried, hadn’t objected, had allowed himself to be led by the openly affectionate (and frankly a little bit pushy if you wanted to know) women who separated the partners and sat them across from each other instead. And, as long as we’re mentioning it, Steve seemed utterly captivated by the women at his side, throughout dinner. In all fairness, it is possible that Danny played up his own fascination with his dinner companions. And he may have made sure Steve had noticed. Just a little. Okay, maybe a lot.
Danny would admit, begrudgingly—especially after his comment to Steve in the car—that Steve’s connection with the native islanders was something that benefited the team time and time again. The sense of aloha that Steve innately possessed was one that Danny’d never been able to find within himself, not even after all these years. He still felt like he was an outsider, like his island vibe was more Manhattan than Oahu, and he’d given up the idea he’d ever feel differently. He tried telling himself he was at peace with that, but he wasn’t entirely sure he believed it. Because he was fairly certain that it was jealousy he was feeling that night—envy of Steve’s deep and meaningful connection with the people who easily embraced him as though he wasn’t a haole.
There was also a slight possibility that Danny had been a little bit jealous of the attention Steve had so freely given to someone other than Danny. Maybe just a little. Or maybe quite a bit. The reason that might have been the case was something that had been edging in on Danny’s barely-conscious thoughts for some time now, and it was entirely plausible that he had begun to think about admitting to himself why he was feeling the way he was.
So maybe he’d been a bit pensive in the car on the ride home.
It wasn't until a ways into the trip that Steve broke the silence: “You know what I think?”
“Um....” Steve’s question startled him out of his musing, and he felt more than a little dizzy at being wrenched from his thoughts.
Steve didn’t wait for more of a reply, didn’t seem to have expected it. “I think you really do wish I could read your mind.”
For once Danny didn’t have anything to say in response. He’d been surprised when Steve had brought up mind reading in the first place. Partly because Steve would usually just ask him what he was thinking, usually with a good deal of snark, of course. But also partly because Danny had been thinking lately that Steve had developed a decent ability to know what was on his mind. Or, more aptly, in his heart. Maybe he was needlessly dramatizing things, but there had been a number of times in the past weeks especially that Steve had seemed to have an awfully keen insight into Danny’s thoughts and feelings.
Which might in part explain Danny’s somewhat defensive reaction to the mind reading comment in the fist place.
“Huh?” Was about the extent of his ability to form a response at the moment, however.
“What you said before, about being glad I couldn’t read your mind?” Steve clarified, evidently not bothered that Danny hadn’t seemed to know what he meant. “I think you actually wish I could.”
Danny managed not to react. Why had he given in to his less-than-mature impulses and given Steve an overstated answer in the first place? He’d been doing it a lot lately. Actually, no, that wasn’t true. He’d always done it with Steve. Maybe just lately, it had been feeling somehow weird and forced. And maybe that was why he’d pushed it a little too far in response to the mind reading comment. What was that line about protesting too much? Maybe he’d used it on Steve one too many times and the big oaf was finally catching on. Danny cringed inwardly. He was pretty sure he knew what he was protesting against. He wondered if Steve did, too.
Steve seemingly didn’t mind Danny’s lack of involvement in the conversation. Probably he assumed it meant he was right. Which wasn’t far from the truth.
“I think...” Steve continued. “I think that you think that if I could read your mind, you wouldn’t have to find a way of telling me what you’re feeling.”
Oh, boy.
“I think you think you have something to hide. Something I’m only going to find out if I could read your mind. Which, considering you typically tell me everything you think, as you think it, far more than I want to or need to know.... I think that you think you’re hiding something from me. But it’s something that you actually want me to know.”
Danny was so stunned by the accuracy of that, he literally couldn’t respond.
Steve kept driving for a while before he spoke again.
“Danny....”
“Yeah, babe.” That response was a reflexive one, he hadn’t even meant to say anything.
“Just making sure you’re still with me....”
Something about Steve’s tone melted Danny’s heart. Suddenly he felt bad for what he’d said about not wanting Steve to read his mind.... Or more likely the tone in which he’d said it. He’d suspected Steve hadn’t really taken it seriously; his comment about Grace and Charlie had been sweet. Maybe Steve had known it was an overstatement, and a protective one at that. Maybe it took him a while to figure it out, maybe not. But the fact that he was pressing the issue... something about that was turning Danny’s insides all sorts of strange shapes.
“Yeah, babe.”
Steve took a breath that sounded as anxious as Danny felt. “Got anything else to say?” He asked, his voice sounding almost strained.
“...I’m not sure.” Well, it was honest.
“Okay,” Steve replied softly, and appeared to let it drop.
They continued in silence for a while, the trip back taking considerably longer now that Steve was driving the speed limit. Ordinarily that was something Danny would have commented on, but his mind was occupied elsewhere at the moment.
He turned his thoughts back to the jealousy he’d been feeling at dinner, but it felt too uncomfortable to dwell on for long, so he drifted back to thinking that Steve had been reading his mind—and his heart—more and more.... And then to what he now believed Steve had begun to glimpse there.
His mind had gotten a little lost in the swirl of thoughts and feelings, but gradually Danny became aware of a warm, strong hand resting on his leg. At first he focused simply on not reacting, focused on keeping his breath even, his body not still but not exactly responsive.... But his attention was drawn, slowly, irresistibly, down, to look at Steve’s hand on his thigh. He sat, for a long while—at least it felt like a long while—staring at that hand, pondering the meaning of the intimate gesture. Then slowly his eyes followed Steve’s arm up to his face, which was watching the road very, very intently. Far more intently than it usually did—that face that was always more fascinated with the other person inside the car than anything outside of it... speed limit signs, traffic lights, but also road blocks, curbs, small shrubs, birds.... Danny was stalling. Of course he was. Still Steve didn’t look at him.
And then, overwhelmed by the feeling that Steve really could read his mind, Danny felt his resistance dissolve. He put his hand over Steve’s—he hadn’t consciously made a decision to do so, it almost seemed to happen without his being aware of it. But once it had, he knew it was the only thing he could have done, so he didn’t return to his thinking, it just all faded away as though it had been pointless to even wonder, because of course, he knew.
A smile crept across the features of that otherwise stoic face, still watching the road, but now relaxing perceptibly. Danny sighed, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes.
They drove the rest of the way back to Steve’s like that. Steve may have looked over at him at some point, he couldn’t be sure, but he thought not.
Once they pulled up in front of the house, Steve reached around the steering wheel with his left hand to turn off the ignition, but left the keys in. He moved in his seat, and Danny knew without looking that Steve was staring at him.
“Okay, maybe you have a point,” Danny admitted, softly, and with a bit of a tone that Steve would ordinarily have commented on. But not tonight.
“The thing is,” Steve responded, sounding much breathier than usual. “I think maybe I can read your mind.”
Danny’s heart skipped several beats.
Steve leaned in, his right hand not moving from under Danny’s, but his left coming up to wrap around the back of Danny’s neck. He closed the distance between them slowly but purposefully, allowing Danny time to object, but making it clear he didn’t think that was wise. As their lips met, Danny had been sure he’d let out some kind of embarrassing whimper, but it was actually Steve who made a sound, one that went directly through Danny’s heart and into his gut.
Steve pulled back just enough to get a look at Danny’s reaction.
“Not bad for your first mind reading attempt.”
Steve grinned. He dropped his hand from Danny’s neck, and with both his hands, took hold of Danny’s. “I should probably practice,” he said, evenly, looking down at their hands, interlinked.
Pressing his lips together, wanting to somehow save the kiss, Danny felt his heart swell. “Okay.”
“Tomorrow after work?”
“Probably good to wait till after work, yeah.” Danny felt giddy, knew it came through in his voice.
Steve gave Danny’s hand another squeeze, then let it go. “Good night, Daniel,” he said, and got out of the car, leaving Danny sitting there, unable to move.
He wasn’t sure how long it was before he worked up the strength to get out of the car and climb in the driver’s side and go home. But it felt like ages. Tomorrow after work couldn’t come soon enough.