Work Text:
“So… Valentine’s Day is coming up,” Steve rubs his hands on his thighs a bit nervously. He’s in the recliner, not watching a basketball game with Danny slouched on the couch.
Danny grunts in response, if it weren’t for the grunt, Steve would think Danny was ignoring him.
“I don’t have any plans,” Steve continues.
Danny turns to Steve, squinting. “And you’re telling me this… because why?” Shaking his head in a perturbed manner. What was Steve cooking up now?
“Not to go poking a sore wound, but I assume you don’t have plans either?”
“No, Steven. I don’t,” Danny responded tersely, turning back to the game and slouching even further into the couch.
“Well… why don’t we do something?”
Danny rolls his eyes, and basically tells Steve to shush, with a wave of his hand. Steve lets it go, for now. He’ll try again later.
*****
Steve cooked dinner for once, so Danny is stuck doing the dishes. Not that he minds, per se, there is something therapeutic about washing dishes, a mindless task that requires just enough brain power to keep dishes from falling to the ground, but is distraction enough from one’s own inner monologue. And Danny could use a break, from said monologue. It has been nearly two weeks since the accident. His cuts and abrasions are all mostly healed, and his bruised ribs only hurt if he moves too fast. Or coughs. Or laughs. So he does as much as he can to lead as unexciting a life as possible, until those ribs heal.
So back to the dishes. There’s something soothing about scrubbing a lasagna dish clean, washing away the bubbles, and letting it drip dry on the rack. The squeak of his fingers against the clean glass the only noise in the room. And then he hears it. A sigh. And from the sounds of it, Steve is in the kitchen doorway, and that sigh is the beginning of something. Danny can smell the heat from the gears turning in Steve’s mind, and it puts a foul smell in his sinuses.
Danny dries his hands on the towel, and turns towards Steve with a fake smile. The kind that says ‘I don’t care what you’re thinking, the answer is still No.’
“Yes, Steven? Something I can help you with?” Eyebrows rising up his forehead in inquiry.
“Yes, Daniel, I do believe so. Um, back to the Valentine’s Day conversa-”
“No. No-no-no-no. No-no. I’m gonna stop you right there. Me and Valentine’s Day do not get along. We have not been on speaking terms for years. More than a decade, really. It is a terrible holiday contrived by greeting card companies, purveyors of fine chocolates, and the flower industry, in an effort to boost first quarter sales. Why should people be romantic one day a year? If you are in love with someone, shouldn’t that love be spread out over the other 364 days of the year?” Danny has his hand out, palm up, in his standard ‘what the fuck’ gesture he uses whenever someone is about to suggest something monumentally stupid.
Steve clears his throat, swallowing hard, and appears to struggle to get words to come out of his mouth.
“While you make a very good set of points there, I… that’s not quite what I was going for? I mean, yes, people should be showing the love 365 days a year. And red is a dumb color, it’s hostile, really. Red means stop, and-”
“And I’m gonna interrupt you because you are making zero sense right now, my friend. Spit it out, why are you walking around on eggshells around me? Why is everyone so afraid to just speak their mind? I do it all the time. It can be cathartic.”
Steve’s cheeks flush, and for a moment he actually looks a bit bashful? What is this?
“Okay, so I heard the girls talking and-”
“Could you be more specific? The girls at the coffee shop? The surfer chicks we saw on the beach the other day?”
“Tani, okay? Tani and Quinn were talking about… well they’re both technically single at the moment and Junior won’t be back until who knows when. But apparently it’s a thing for women to get together, in friendship, and celebrate their singlehood or feminism or something. Galentine’s Day. Get it? Gal and Valentine’s Day?”
“Yes, Steve. I get it.”
“They’re going to the spa-”
“Which we have done.”
“And then out to dinner…”
“Again, so have we.”
“And they celebrate their friendship, and okay now this is sounding completely lame. Forget I said anything, I’m going to take Eddie for a walk.” Steve turns on his heel and leaves.
“Huh…” Danny says to himself, and goes back to the dishes, putting away the ones that are now dry.
*****
Steve and Eddie return from their walk no less than 45 minutes later. Danny has resumed his position on the couch, beer in hand, and is watching the Die Hard movie marathon. Hans Gruber takes his fall from Nakatomi Plaza just as the duo walk in the door.
“Die Hard! I love this movie!” Steve crows, kicking off his sneakers, and dropping onto the chair to watch.
“You know there’s actually 4 or 5 more of these now?”
“What? No way!” Steve looks on in disbelief. “Are they any good though? Sequels are almost never as good as the first.”
“Wouldn’t know, haven’t seen them all yet. They’re playing all of them tonight.”
“Hmm, want popcorn? I want popcorn. I’m gonna go make some…” Steve all but scampers off to the kitchen.
“Popcorn, hm,” Danny grunts. He shifts his position on the couch, to something more comfortable for his ribs and Steve walks back in moments later with a gigantic bowl of popcorn and two beers. He plops down none too gently on the couch next to Danny, the bowl spread over their two laps. His arm goes up and over Danny’s head to rest on the couch behind him.
They eat their popcorn and sip their beer, and Danny makes the mistake of looking in Steve’s general direction and yup. The gears are turning in the other man’s head again.
“Out with it.” He demands, nearly upsetting the bowl of popcorn as his hands move along with his voice.
“What?” Steve asks, the picture of innocence.
“Don’t play coy with me, just spit it out! This is stupid, you’ve got something on your mind. Just say it!”
Steve sighs, and sits up a little straighter, and appears to brace himself.
“I just… I thought… I thought it sounded nice, okay? What the girls were doing? If anyone deserves a day to be pampered, it’s you. Just a quiet relaxing day, followed by a delicious meal in an upscale restaurant…”
Danny frowns, “While yes, that does sound nice. You forget… I’m not exactly in a people-y mood these days. I’m perfectly content to stay home, and watch movies, and eat ice cream or something.”
“Well… why don’t we do that then? Make it a Bro-lentine’s Day? Dude-entine? How the hell does that work for fellas?” Steve scrunched up his nose trying to wrap his head around the idea.
“Make it a movie night. Junk food. Pizza, none of that pineapple nonsense. Maybe some curry from that Indian place you like. And a gallon of ice cream. That’s what we’re missing tonight, I could totally go for some ice cream.”
A lightbulb goes in Steve’s head, flashing by way of cheesy grin, and Danny groans inwardly.
“Gallon-tine’s Day. It’ll be epic. We’ll finish off the day by eating a gallon of ice cream. Each.”
Danny reaches out a hand to Steve’s forehead, “Are you feeling okay? Did you get knocked in the head while walking Eddie? Is this post traumatic insanity of some kind?”
“What? You said it yourself, you like ice cream!”
“Yeah, I like ice cream but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna go eating a gallon of it in one sitting. And who are you to go suggesting it, Mr. Health-nut Butter-in-my-coffee?”
“Okay fine, you got me there.”
Danny shakes his head and puts his focus back on the movie. He’s snuggled into Steve’s side, head resting on the bicep behind his head.
“I get what you’re trying to do,” he says, his voice low and unnaturally soft.
“Hm,” Steve hums, taking a sip of his now lukewarm beer.
“I really do think Valentine’s Day is a stupid overrated day, but I’ve also been perfectly fine being single on that day. It doesn’t bother me, I’m content. There’s no urgent need to do something grandiose…”
“I’m just… I just want my friend back. You haven’t been yourself since… you know. And I know that it’ll take time to work through it. I guess I just wanted a McDanno night or something. Do something a little different, get a smile or two out of you. Maybe help you forget, even if just for a moment.”
Danny reaches out and squeezes Steve’s hand.
“And I love you for that, I hope you know that.”
“I do,” Steve looks down at him fondly. He leans down and kisses Danny on the top of his head, to which Danny rolls his eyes and huffs affectionately. They go back to watching the movie marathon, Steve has permagrin, and Danny is feeling… content in the moment.
“Bro-lentine’s Day, I like the sound of that,” Steve snickers.
“My god, you are lame,” Danny throws a piece of popcorn at Steve’s face, and he catches it deftly with his mouth.
“You love it!”
“Yeah, I do.”