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Secretly, Steve’s always thought that the air in Hawaii has a special quality about it. Warm. Soft. Welcoming. As he steps off the plane in Honolulu, he hums happily to himself. That first touch of Hawaiian air on his skin – that means he’s home.
The initial euphoria is short-lived. He’s been away for eight months and he’s desperate to see his friends – some more than others. But he’s also jet-lagged and exhausted. London to Hawaii usually takes around 20 hours. Booking the flights less than 48 hours in advance – and flying at Christmas - means it’s taken closer to 30 hours. It also means he’s landed in Honolulu at 10pm.
Spending Christmas morning in Toronto airport hadn’t been part of his plan. He should have been at Harry’s place nursing a hangover after painting the town red. However, a few days before Christmas, Lady Helen and Lady Sophie had invited Harry to their house for Christmas dinner. And it had turned everything on its head.
They’d included Steve in the invitation. He’d felt honoured to be invited. But he’d also felt – to use a Harry-type expression – like a gooseberry, gate crashing a romantic date. Even worse, it had made him feel homesick. Heartsick. He didn’t want to eat turkey and pigs in blankets from Fortnum and Mason’s. He had a yearning to be home.
Walking through Honolulu airport, he feels a weight lift from his shoulders. He’d left the island to find peace and he has, kind of. Having time to think, it’s been a good thing. It’s been hard though, being cut off from the people he loves. Zoom and Facetime calls don’t make up for the lack of physical contact. The constant touching. The hugs.
Hopefully by the time he goes to bed tonight he’ll at least have a hug.
The thought makes his heart quicken. His steps quicken too. Weaving his way through the few people that are still in the arrivals area, he makes it to the taxi rank. Giving instructions to the driver, he slumps into the back seat.
It’s pitch black outside, the lights of the buildings twinkling in the darkness, alongside the stars in the sky. As they head towards Waikiki he rolls down the window and breathes in the air. It’s a world away from the cold, damp winter in London.
He’s home.
Unshed tears make his eyelids prickle. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he blinks them away. Gradually, slowly, too slowly, they’re creeping closer to the neighbourhood where his house is. Tapping his fingers on his thigh, he watches the downtown scenery crawl by.
When they finally pull up he’s handing over his fare and pulling his kitbag out of the cab before the driver can say anything. He doesn’t even watch the cab drive away. All his attention is on his house. On the lights still on in the living room, inviting him in.
Unusually he feels nervous as he walks up to the house. He’s played out this moment in his head more times than he can remember. Rehearsed word for word what’s he going to say. How he’s going to apologise to Danny for leaving him, right at the moment when Danny needed his support the most.
They’ve spoken a couple times a week since he left Hawaii. Sometimes daily – like during the week when he and Cath finally decided it would be better if they went their separate ways. But somehow they’ve always managed to work around the elephant in the room.
He’s been dreading it. Probably over-analysing it. But now he’s back on Hawaiian soil he realises it doesn’t really matter. What’s important is to have Danny by his side. How he apologies, how he makes it right, it really is irrelevant. Because whatever Danny wants, he’s going to do it. He is Danny’s: that’s what he’s learnt on his trip.
Now all he has to do is tell Danny.
Pausing at the lanai, he frowns. Back in the day, his parents had never been big on decorating the house with Christmas fairy lights. The most they ever got, if his Mom had time, was a Pulmeria wreath on the door. In his head though, he’d imagined Danny would make up for all those years the house had no decorations. At the very least he’d been expecting lights around the lanai and a ‘Santa stop here’ sign in the front yard. Charlie would love that: somewhere for Santa to park the reindeer.
Instead, there’s nothing.
Frowning, he steps up to the front door. Reaching out for the door knob, something stops him. It’s stupid, it’s his own house. But suddenly he feels like he’s intruding. Moving carefully, he leans over to look into the living room window.
There’s only a small gap in the curtains. It’s enough to see the lights have been dimmed. And in the middle of the room Tani and Junior are wrapped in each other’s arms dancing. It’s a slow dance, more of a romantic shuffle.
Steve swallows, looks away as his chest constricts. Tani’s head is tucked under Junior’s chin, eyes closed, her face peaceful. She looks nothing like the angry woman he first met four years ago. Junior’s watching her as they dance, and his expression of love and protection is breath-taking. This is a man who will do anything to protect the woman he loves.
Stepping away, Steve takes a breath, tries to collect himself. If he knocks now he knows he’ll be welcomed. But there’s no way he can interrupt. Slinging his rucksack on his shoulder, he leaves.
Not really thinking, he starts walking. He’s happy – beyond happy – for his friends. They deserve all the best things life can give them. There’s melancholy in his heart too though. He’s never wanted a big romance or a happy ending: from experience, life just doesn’t work like that. But to have someone look at him like Junior was looking at Tani? He’d move mountains to get that.
For a while, he carries on walking. Letting his feet choose the path. He's not sure how much time has passed he realises where his feet – and his mind - have brought him: Danny’s neighbourhood.
Arriving at Danny’s house, it’s a relief to find there’s still a light on. Briefly he considers checking for the spare key, under the rock by the front door. Nerves have kicked in though: he knocks instead. Running his sweaty palms down his thighs, he stands back and waits.
Multiple bolts unlock. Then the door opens.
Danny’s standing there, dressed in pyjama pants and a tee-shirt, barefooted. The tee-shirt barely fits him: it’s obvious he’s been working out. Equally distracting is they way his hair is ruffled, how sleepy he looks in his PJs.
Something deep inside him unfurls from where he’s kept it hidden for so many years.
Danny eyes widen with surprise. “You’re back.”
Suddenly he feels like a nervous, gawky teenager. “Looks like it.”
Danny shuffles on the spot. Stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I thought you were in London.”
Steve shuffles too. “The plans with Harry fell through.”
“Right.” Danny studies him, slowly, from head to toe. The corners of his lips flick up in approval. “You’re looking good, babe.”
Steve dips his head. He can feel himself blushing. “Not looking so bad yourself, Danny.”
Silence. It feels like it goes on forever. They might have been talking online but facing each other, that’s different again.
Danny breaks first. “Why didn’t you call? I could have met you at the airport.”
“I don’t know.” I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me. “I went to my house.”
“Ah.” Danny bobs his head. “So you know Tani and Junes are there.”
“They seemed…busy.”
“So you came here instead.”
“I guess.” There’s another pause. Longer this time. There’s electricity in the air. It’s scrambling his brain. “I thought…I thought maybe you’d want to celebrate Christmas at my house. It’s bigger. More space. I figured you’d make it special and have Christmas dinner on the beach and you’d wear the Santa hat I left you and—”
Guilt mixed with embarrassment flashes across Danny’s face. “You don’t have a chimney.”
“What?”
“A chimney. Santa needs a chimney to come down.” Danny sighs. “This is probably the last Christmas Charlie’s gonna want do this and…you don’t have a chimney.”
Steve squints at him, not understanding. “He doesn’t need a chimney. He parks out front and comes through the front door.”
“Says who?”
“What?”
Danny rolls his eyes. “Who says he comes through the front door?”
“My Dad.”
Danny bobs his head, like he’s considering that. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” Danny licks his lips. Takes a step back, to clear the doorway. “It’s nearly midnight on Christmas Eve and Charlie’s gonna be awake in a few hours. I need my sleep. Are you coming in or are you just going to sleep on my front lawn?”
“Charlie’s here?”
“Didn’t I just say that?” Danny steps up, peers at his eyes. “When was the last time you slept, Steve?”
“I dunno. I got a couple of hours on the plane.” He rubs at his eyes. Regrets it instantly. It feels like someone’s shoved sand under his eyelids. “I should go.”
“Why?”
“Charlie’s here. It’s your Christmas with him and—”
The eyeroll is back. “Not that this is news but nothing coming out of your mouth is making sense right now.”
“Danny—”
Whatever else he’s about to say – and he’s got no idea what that is – dies as Danny grabs his elbow and drags him into the house. “Get in here and keep it down.”
“Okay, okay,” he mumbles, letting himself be bundled into the living room, dragging his rucksack behind him. Looking around as Danny locks up, he’s hit by another wave of melancholy. Everything’s exactly where he remembered it. The plate of cookies with a glass of milk. The red tweed blankets thrown over the back of the couches. What makes his breath catch though – makes him gasp out loud - is the Christmas stocking with his name, hanging on the fireplace.
“Charlie was worried Santa wouldn’t know where to find you.”
Dragging his eyes away from it, he meets Danny’s eyes. His breath catches at the love he sees there: it’s the same expression Junior was wearing looking at Tani. His exhausted brain goes into a tailspin. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I’ll be gone by the time Charlie wakes up—”
“Shoes.” Danny points at his feet, as if he hasn’t mentioned the couch. “You can share my bed. It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
Washington, Steve’s brain supplies helpfully, as he wobbles on the spot as he tries to take off his socks and shoes.
“Okay, so technically we didn’t share the bed,” Danny continues, gently herding him towards the bedroom, “because you stared out of the window all night but we would have been sharing, you know, if you’d gone to sleep.”
Steve halts in the doorway. The memory is crystal clear in his mind. “I couldn’t sleep, not after everything that happened. I wanted to run, get away—”
“I know. It’s alright.”
Steve lets the sadness he’s feeling show on his face. “No, It’s not but what I’m trying to say is that despite everything that was going up in here,” he taps his temple, “I felt safe, I stayed, because you were there. Because I knew you wouldn’t leave me.”
Danny’s face folds. His eyes are dark with grief. “Babe—”
“I didn’t do the same for you and I should have. I’m sorry I left you, Danny.”
“I know. I understand why you had to go—"
“There’s some things I gotta tell you—”
“Me too,” Danny agrees, shoving him towards the bed, “but not tonight, okay. Probably not tomorrow either unless you want to share all your business with Grace.”
Steve perches on the edge of the bed. Pulls his sweater and jeans off, leaving him in a tee-shirt and boxer shorts. A small part of him thinks he should be embarrassed but it’s nothing Danny hasn’t seen before. “Grace is going to be here?”
Danny switches on the bedside lamp, pulls the bed covers back. Steers him under them. “No, no, no, we’re not starting that conversation again. Get into bed.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” With a growing feeling of horror, he looks over at Danny. He really hadn’t meant to say that out loud. But Danny’s got his hands over his face, to muffle his laughter.
Danny climbs into bed, still chuckling. Tugging Steve on the shoulder, he pulls him down onto the bed. “You’re an idiot, babe, but I love you and I’ve missed you. Go to sleep.”
Steve does as he’s told, pulls the duvet over himself . But his over-tired brain, it’s got other ideas. “Where’s Eddie?”
“With Junes and Tani.” Danny thumps his pillow. Hard. “Go to sleep.”
“I didn’t hear him at the house.” Worry kicks in. He throws back the duvet. “He would have barked. I should go check—”
“Tani told us Junes was cooking enough food to feed a small army.” Danny grabs the duvet, pulls it back over, like they’re in the middle of a tug-of-war. “Eddie’s probably sleeping off the leftovers, dreaming about taking out bad guys with his teeth—”
“Are you sure?”
“Five hours, Steven. Five hours until Charlie gets up and finds his presents. You remember how that went last year? And now he’s gonna find you here too and—”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” Steve remembers last year, only too well. By midday he’d been ready to wave the white flag of surrender. “I need to go to sleep.”
“Halleluiah.”
“All I was saying is—”
“For crying out loud.”
Any reply Steve has goes out of the window as Danny lunges and kisses him, hard. Gasping in surprise, he scrambles to catch up. It’s messy, it’s desperate and as first kisses go it scores no points for style and technique. But there’s passion behind it and he’s breathing hard when they break apart.
He touches his lips with his fingers, still not sure if he’s dreaming this. “What…what was that for?”
Danny slides back under the covers. The smile of his face is warm. Loving. Slightly smug. “Giving myself a Christmas present.” He gestures at the bedside clock. “It’s gone midnight. Mele Kalikimaka.”
“Mele Kalikimaka,” Steve replies absently, as Danny opens his arms, silently inviting him in. Not needing a second invitation, he shuffles backwards into Danny’s arms. Having the strength of Danny’s body wrapped around him, it’s a heady feeling. But it’s warm too. Almost too warm. There’s so much he wants to say to Danny. To explain that he, Danny, is the centre of his world. But tiredness is creeping up on him. His eyelids slide closed of their own accord.
“Tomorrow,” Danny whispers in ear, pulling him closer.
“’Kay,” he replies, sleepily. Sighing, he finally lets himself relax. He’s teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when Danny kisses him on the nape of his neck. Rests his lips there.
“I love you, babe.”
Steve's heart flips flops with happiness. Snuggling back down further he surrenders himself to Danny, totally. Forever. And despite Danny’s clear instruction there’s something he desperately needs to say:
“I love you too, Danny.”
The End.