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After the whole breaking-in incident, Danny’d made sure Steve had a key. He hadn’t really expected him to go using it all the time without Danny knowing, but Steve had been vanishing kind of a lot lately, and Danny was getting a bit concerned—the last time Steve had been AWOL too much for Danny’s taste had been right before he’d found out about the whole radiation thing, so he was maybe a bit paranoid about it.
One day when he couldn’t track Steve down (don’t get him started about Steve ignoring his phone, that was just plain frustrating) he wound up driving by “Steve’s,” and sure enough, there was the truck. The back door (still Steve’s favorite mode of entry, as though going in the front was admitting too much) was standing slightly open, so Danny—not intentionally, mind you, it was probably just a natural reflex from his years of experience, alright? Anyhow he kind of snuck in, curious, I suppose, to see what Steve was up to.
The first thing he noticed was music. It didn’t take long for him to realize Steve was playing his guitar, and for some reason that made it hard for Danny to swallow. He stood in the back hall listening—the music echoed wonderfully in the open space, and Danny might have started thinking about live music nights: with Steve and Flippa... that could be fun. He wondered if Steve would be up for that—it was still a kind of sensitive topic for Steve, but maybe it’d be good for him to face it.
Then something caught Danny’s attention. Steve was still playing, but now he was talking softly to himself as well. Danny’s concern got the better of him, and he snuck further forward to see if he could make out what Steve was saying.
“...Don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself in for, buddy. Working together is one thing, I can manage that—I’ve got eight years experience there anyway. So even when it’s hard I can do it.... But this. Danno, I don’t know how I’m going to do this.” He paused for an especially difficult chord. “No office to retreat to,” another chord. “No case to hide behind,” one more. “No disaster to throw myself into,” a crescendo, and then silence. “Just us, side by side, close together, day after day....” He started playing again. “How am I supposed to do that without you seeing? How can I hide behind pizza ovens and rows of booths? I won’t last a month, and you’ll know.”
Danny waited, but Steve seemed to be done talking, though he kept playing.
“Know what?” Danny finally asked the room.
Startled, Steve stopped playing and looked up. He closed his eyes and deflated. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Longer than you’d like,” Danny admitted.
“Danny.” He took a breath, put his guitar down. “Shit.”
“What don’t you want me to know, Steve?” His voice was remarkably level, which was surprised him more than a little, because his heart was damn well trying to jump out of his freaking chest.
Steve rubbed his hands over his face. “Danny. Fuck.”
“Steven, you are making me really worried right now.” Not to mention Danny’d forgotten how to breathe, which really sucked.
“No, that’s not...” he sighed and stood up.
Somehow that made it easier on Danny. He walked closer. “What’s going on, babe. What don’t you want me to know? What have you been hiding?”
“Nothing, buddy, can we just—”
“Uh, no, Steve, we can’t just—” And he pushed Steve back onto his seat on the bucket and pulled another over. “Spill. What can you hide at Five-0 that you won’t be able to hide working with me here?”
“Um, okay.” Steve tried to pull himself together, brought his hands in front of him, rubbing them together, sitting up taller, grounding his feet firmly on the floor. He was bracing for something, and it was making Danny feel very unsettled. “Alright. See. The thing is.” He paused, looked at Danny, and then he kind of softened. He started to smile, but it faded before it fully formed. “Okay, Danny. See, the thing is. I might be a little bit in love with you.” He took a quick breath, but before Danny could react, he plunged on. “And when it’s normal life—by which I mean cases and danger and things exploding—I can deal with it. But when we settle down, buddy, and I know you want that, and to be completely honest I probably do too. But I think I’ve been too scared to do that, because I know that as soon as I stop doing the Five-0 stuff, as soon as that part of my life is over, then what’s left is you.” He stopped to swallow, but Danny was speechless by that point, and couldn't have interrupted even if he'd wanted to. “And I’m not going to be able to hide that what I want is more. More than just partners here at ‘Steve’s,’ buddy. So much more than that.”
Danny let out a long, slow breath, then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked up at Steve. “You’ve been coming here, haven’t you?”
“Uh... yeah.” Steve looked a little embarrassed by that.
“Playing your guitar?” Danny’s eyebrows went up, questioning.
“Mmm-hmm.” Steve’s lips were pressed together. He was clearly unsure how Danny would take it....
“And talking to me?” And that was why.
“Yeah.” Steve closed his eyes.
Danny sighed so loudly Steve flinched. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Because I know that’s not what you meant when you asked me to be your partner.”
Danny swallowed the ironic laugh that wanted to escape. “Was it what you meant when you asked me, eight years ago, to be yours?”
“Not then, no.” Steve seemed puzzled.
Danny shrugged, nonchalant. “Alright, so things can change over time?”
“Of course they can, Danny.” His eyes narrowed. That crease, above his eyes, that Danny loved. Yeah, that one.
“Okay, so,” typical Danny monologue here—“Why do you just assume that it can’t be what I mean? Why do you think you can just decide that, without even asking me? Huh? Why would you do that? Don’t I get a say in it at all, Steve? Huh?”
Poor Steve, hadn’t seen that coming. “Do you want a say in it?”
“I think that would be nice, yeah.” Again, typical Danny.
“Um. Okay. So... do you?” The confusion, the uncertainty, was clear on Steve’s tired and worn face, and Danny nearly caved. But Steve really had it coming, and Danny wanted him suffer a bit longer.
“Do I what, Steven?”
His lips pressed together, hard, and then he swallowed. “Do you want to be more than just... partners...?”
“See, the problem here is the language is awfully problematic.”
Steve looked like he might fall over. “Okay....”
Pausing, trying to look thoughtful: “Would you like to take me out for dinner?”
“Uh, sure... um. Now?” Steve was still befuddled.
He held back the smile that wanted to form, then shook his head firmly. “No. I think you should go home and shower and put on nice clothes, then come pick me up like a civilized person and take me somewhere nice.” He paused as he stood. “And we can talk about not work, and not ‘Steve’s,’ and then we can see if maybe you’re not just a complete idiot who’s been totally blind to what’s been in front of him for eight years.”
Danny watched the light dawn in Steve’s eyes, and it was probably one of the more beautiful things he’d seen in his life. He bit his lips as the smile broke through, then turned around to walk out.
“Pick me up at seven. And lock the door on your way out, babe.”