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Danny’s leaving again.
He always leaves at the same time every night. Steve doesn’t mind; he likes routines, likes the sense of control routines gives him. They come back to Steve’s house after work, they crack open a bottle of beer each, and Steve will start dinner. Depending on what he’s cooking, Danny will help cook it. A couple times before, Danny has completely taken over his kitchen and cooked for Steve. Steve likes that, too. It shows a side of Danny he never really gets to see, domestic and sweet, something Steve thinks Danny only shows to those who Danny’s extremely close to.
After dinner, they’ll sit out on the lanai with another couple of beers and watch the waves roll in as the sun sinks down behind the ocean. Danny will dig his feet into the sand he insists he hates, after chucking his shoes and socks somewhere to the left of him, where he’ll have to search for them in the darkness later. Sometimes, if there’s a game on, they’ll go in and watch it. Always, Danny leaves right before midnight.
He’ll stand on the front porch, leaning against the post, arms crossed, talking to Steve for a couple more minutes, staring up at him, the moon making his blue eyes shine bright as he flashes a smile towards him every now and again. Then he’ll hesitate for a minute before he says, “Should get going.”
Steve will say, slowly, “Yeah. See you tomorrow, Danno.”
And always, Danny says, “Can’t wait.” And Steve used to think it was sarcastic but now sometimes he wonders if maybe he’s telling the truth, if maybe he can’t wait, just like Steve can’t wait.
It’s routine, and Steve likes routine.
Except when he doesn’t.
With something Kono said ringing in his ears, he suddenly doesn’t want Danny to leave, ever. He suddenly wants more, better, for both of them. And really, trust Kono to screw it up, to send everything spiraling out of control. You should just kiss and get it over with, in the middle of HQ, she says it, and Steve and Danny stop short and Steve can’t breathe and Danny’s face goes red. Then Danny, always the talker, brushes it off and keeps on talking like she never said anything at all.
They go about their day like nothing happens. Danny comes home with him. They drink their beer, Steve makes steaks, they sit out on the lanai and eat them. Danny talks and Steve listens and teases him, but always, always, it keeps coming back to what Kono says, and Steve can’t help but imagine what it would feel like, Danny kissing Steve, pressed up against him, pushing him against the wall and wrapping his arms around him, safe and secure.
Steve wants it.
Midnight rolls around, and Danny gets up off the couch, pats Steve’s knee as he steps over his feet to get to the door. “Time to go,” he says, pulling on his shoes. Steve gets up and follows him out onto the front porch, and they stand there talking about who is going to buy coffee tomorrow morning, about who will pick up who in the morning (Danny, of course, Danny always picks Steve up. It’s routine). Danny shifts, uncrosses his arms, and looks up at Steve. “I uh,” he scratches the back of his neck. His eyes look even bluer tonight, like the moon is extremely bright, “I should get going,” he finally says, softly, and Steve nods, swallows.
“Sure, Danno. See you tomorrow?”
Danny offers him a smile. “Can’t wait.”
Steve steps back into the house and closes the door, but he watches Danny get into his car, and plans on waiting until he pulls away to lock everything up.
Except he never does.
It takes him two minutes and then he’s swinging his car door open, stalking back up the porch steps, and Steve’s opening the door, stepping out onto the porch, saying, “Danny, what’s –“
“I can’t, you just have to, I should’ve done this before –“ Danny says as he meets him halfway, and then he’s yanking Steve forward, wrapping a hand around his neck and kissing him, lips and teeth and tongue and pure and wonderful. And Steve’s never felt anything like it, as Danny pushes him up against the wall and kisses him more, wraps both his arms around Steve’s neck and just keeps kissing, until they’re both out of breath.
“I should’ve kissed you,” he says, breathless and wild, “Before. But I am now. And it’s a good night.”
“It’s a good night,” Steve grins, and kisses him again.