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It’s a normal Saturday morning – or at least, normal for here, which is to say obscenely warm and sunny given it’s December and there should be a foot of snow on the ground. Danny is in the middle of fixing himself a turkey sandwich – whole wheat, lettuce, tomato, extra mayo – when he hears the door open with a snick.
“Just because you have a key doesn’t mean you shouldn’t knock!” he calls. “I gave you that for emergencies.”
Steve is standing in the doorway to the kitchen when he turns around – looming, more like, because he takes up more room than any person has a right to. It should annoy Danny, but maybe he’s just gotten used to it. He cuts the sandwich in half, takes a bite. Pushes the plate with the other half toward Steve.
“It was an emergency,” Steve says, ignoring the plate.
“Yeah?” Danny says around a mouthful of sandwich. “Where’s the crime scene? I’m not letting you drive this time, so don’t even ask.”
Steve doesn’t move. “Not a crime scene.”
“Who died, then?” Danny takes another bite, chews. Looks at Steve, who seems… if Danny didn’t know Steve, he’d say nervous, but he’s not sure he’s ever seen Steve nervous, or scared, or any of those emotions that get beat out of you in SEAL school.
“Nobody died, Danny,” Steve says, and now he looks annoyed – which apparently is not something you ever lose, even if you get dropped handcuffed and blindfolded out of a helicopter.
Danny puts the sandwich down. “But it’s an emergency.”
Steve nods. “Definitely an emergency.”
“Are you going to tell me what the emergency is?” Danny says with a great deal more patience than he’s feeling.
“Have you… did you watch the news this morning?”
“No, Captain Non Sequitur, I did not watch the news this morning. I like to do this thing on a Saturday morning, you might have heard of it. It’s called sleeping in.”
“Commander,” Steve mutters.
Danny rolls his eyes. “Sorry, Commander Non Sequitur. I apologize for not giving you your full rank you earned doing stuff that’s too classified for you to discuss with anyone ever.”
“No, I mean…” Steve grabs the sandwich, picks it up, looks at it. “It’s important to me, you know? I’m still… even with Five-0, it’s still.” He takes a bite, makes a face. “This much mayo? Really?”
“You don’t like my sandwich, don’t eat my sandwich,” Danny says. “And no, I don’t have the faintest idea what you mean.”
Steve takes another bite of the sandwich, chews. “It’s fine,” he says. “You make a good sandwich.”
“So?” Danny asks. “There’s an emergency, and you being a commander is important to you? That’s pretty much all I got out of that conversation.”
“Yeah, see.” Steve puts the sandwich down. “This would have been a lot easier if you’d been watching the news.”
“I’m so sorry to inconvenience you, Commander,” Danny says. “If I had known there was going to be some sort of major news-related emergency, I would have set an alarm.”
“Danno.”
He looks up, sees Steve step closer. There’s this look on his face – Danny’s not sure he’s seen this Steve face before, except maybe once, a few days ago, when Danny was dressed in a three-sizes-too-large Santa costume and caught Steve smiling down at him and Grace.
“What’s the emergency, Steve?” Danny asks, and even a whisper sounds loud all of a sudden.
“If you’d have watched the news,” Steve says, “you’d have seen.”
“So tell me, then,” Danny says as Steve catches him against the counter. “Tell me.”
“I can,” Steve says. “I can tell you.”
And Steve dips down, catches his mouth in a kiss, softer and sweeter than Danny could imagine Steve – not that he’s imagined Steve kissing him, but – it’s just a press of lips, a statement, I’m here. I’m yours.
Danny’s hands come up, pull Steve in closer, and they’re kissing in earnest now, Danny biting at Steve’s lower lip, just enough so Steve makes this perfect little noise, all surprise and want, and presses even closer. There’s nothing between them now, not a breath to separate them, and Steve’s hands are all over him, cupping his face, tracing his neck down to clutch at his shoulder, and the whole time his mouth takes Danny apart.
“What was the emergency?” Danny says against Steve’s mouth when Steve finally remembers he actually has to breathe even if he is a SEAL.
“You already asked that,” Steve says, dropping a kiss in the corner of his mouth, one of his hands messing Danny’s hair up thoroughly.
“And?” Danny asks.
Steve kisses him again, rougher and wetter and so, holy shit, so hot. “I told you,” Steve says, and keeps going.