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The scent wakes Steve up. It's so foreign, so weird, definitely not something he's used to. He doesn't recognize it at first, sleep still weighing on his eyes. Then he rolls over and suddenly forgets all about the unknown aroma floating around his apartment because shit he's sore and woah bright light and then he remembers the whole night in terrifying clarity.
Getting up sends a sharp pain through his head – how the hell did he drink that much, it isn't like him at all – and he seriously considers just getting back in bed and hiding himself under the covers for the foreseeable future. But that's not really an option right now. And not his style, either. Shoot first, ask questions later, Danny had said about him. Well, last night he had definitely emptied a few rounds, so to speak, so now he figures it's time for the questions. Starting with the smell, he thinks, when it hits him. Pancakes. Someone is making pancakes.
He pulls on his pants and shirt and makes his way slowly to the kitchen, trying to think of a single thing to say. What do you say to your partner, who by definition should be strictly off limits, after you get hammered because the case you're working on isn't going anywhere and you make a stupid move that you've been dying to make for ages and you end up taking him home and now you feel really bad about it? Not all bad, of course, in fact, certain parts of his body are telling him they feel just great, thank you, better than in a long time, actually, but his brain, beneath the pounding through his temples, is scolding him for being stupid, stupid, stupid.
It's hard to remember what's so stupid about it when he sees Danny by the stove, with a small pile of pancakes on a plate next to the pan where he's just flipping one over. He's wearing the t-shirt he had on the night before and gray sweatpants. They're his, Steve realizes, and the thought makes his stomach flip. They're too long for Danny but riding low on his hips anyway. Steve closes his eyes briefly and braces himself for what's going to happen. It has to happen, there's no other way. Stupid, his brain reminds him. Pancakes and low riding pants can't change that.
"Morning", Danny says without turning over and gestures towards the table with his spatula. "Sit down. I hope you don't mind I made breakfast, but I needed something for this hangover. You don't have much stuff in the house, man."
"Yeah, I…" Steve clears his throat. It's a bit sore and the sudden image of how it got that way makes him blush. "I've been busy." He sits and reaches for the coffee pot and a cup on the other end of the table by the window.
Danny sets a plate of pancakes on the table and empty plates for himself and Steve on both sides of it while Steve pours himself coffee.
"Syrup?" Danny asks and turns to the cupboard.
"Second shelf."
Danny picks up the bottle. "Dude, what's this? Tropical syrup? Don't tell me you mix pineapple in syrup, too? Next you'll be telling me you put the damn thing in the pancakes, for christ's sake."
Steve smiles a little. Now they are on familiar ground, at least. "Well, actually--"
"Don't even say it. I don't think I want to hear it, frankly." Danny puts the syrup next to the pancakes and sits down opposite Steve. "I'm nauseous enough from the damn liqueur someone made me drink last night." He uses a fork to lift a pancake to his plate and then to Steve's, while Steve sips his coffee. It's good coffee.
"So, is this your freak-out face?" Danny's voice is even as he leans on his elbows and crosses his arms on the table. "Because I gotta tell you, I like it better than the aneurysm face. Not as scary as the manic Imma-kill-you-with-my-fists face, for sure, but right up there with stop-wasting-my-time face, which is so handy with people not letting us on crime scenes--"
"I don't have a--"
"It's cool, you know, freaking out is normal in situations like this, definitely better than the get-the-fuck-out-of-my-house face I was kind of expecting." He gets up and walks over to the fridge. "Milk?"
Steve shakes his head and looks down on his coffee cup. The pancake in front of him looks delicious, even if it's not actually round but shaped more like Oahu, and he wonders why he has that stuff in the house because he never makes any. It's stupid to make pancakes just for yourself, anyway.
With a hint of a smile and a nervous glance Danny continues. "Not gonna lie though, I was also hoping the fuck-me face you perfected last night would make an appearance at some point, so if you could just give me the heads-up when you're done freaking out--"
Steve almost chokes on his coffee. "Danny, I--."
Danny is looking in the fridge, probably trying to find the milk, which isn't there. He ran out two days ago. "Yeah."
"Maybe it's not a good idea."
Steve wishes he could put more conviction into the words but the ache (the sweet, sweet ache) in his body tells him his words are empty. He was so sure this is the only way to go: not make a big deal out of it, thank you and goodbye, but when he looks at Danny his resolution starts to crumble. Danny isn't looking at him, his hand now on the closed fridge door, his back curving under his shirt in a way that makes Steve want to reach over and run his hand down his spine. More than anything, he wants to go over and push Danny against the fridge, press himself against him, reach over and… Fuck it, why can't he get something he wants for a change? Something he really, really wants, apparently, he thinks when Danny's shirt reveals a bit of skin right above his waist. Suddenly his pants feel a bit tight and he can't for the life of him remember why this is supposed to be a bad idea.
"Look--", he begins to say when Danny interrupts him.
"It's ok, I totally get it. You're right, you know, it's crazy we let anything like that happen, wow, stupid, right?"
"That's not--"
"I just thought it might be fun, you know, no strings attached and stuff, but you're totally right, it's a very bad idea, very very bad idea, and it's not like we can't get it elsewhere you know, I know you've got that thing going on with that lieutenant--"
He doesn't, in fact. Catherine called things off a while ago because she had met some dude not completely married to his job. Steve hasn't mentioned it because… He isn't sure why, actually. He is beginning to think it might have something to do with the fact that all the completely innocent flirting-type situations with Danny he has grown accustomed to wouldn't be so completely innocent anymore if he didn't have the existence of Catherine and their casual hook-up thing working as a buffer.
"--and you know, being partners and all that, what a disaster, right? Right." Danny is looking at him now, smiling, even though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Steve shifts on his chair awkwardly, not knowing what to say.
Danny continues, more confident now. "It's not that big of a deal anyway, I have my own things going on too--"
Danny has his own things going on. Of course he does. Steve knows he gets around from time to time, so why does the fact suddenly make him feel like punching something?
"--so it's definitely better to keep this strictly professional. Fooling around is always a bad idea."
Fooling around. So not what Steve had in mind in the brief moment of fantasy he allowed himself. Images flash through his mind – Danny spread out on the bed, Danny with his arms around him in the shower, Danny driving the Camaro and leaning over for a kiss while they're stopped at the lights – where the hell did those come from? Now Steve is really glad he didn't say anything and make more of a fool out of himself. Just because he has been sort of, Steve guesses the word he is looking for is pining, it doesn't mean they'd ride into the sunset together, Cassidy and Sundance style.
Steve realizes Danny has turned away. "I know, you probably want me out of your hair, let me just grab my stuff and I'm out. I'll, uh, talk to you later though; I'll call Nancy at the lab to check if they have anything on those fibers from the crime scene." Danny was already out of the kitchen and his voice was getting more distant.
"Yeah, cool," Steve shouts and stares after him. After he hears the door close he lets out a breath. The pancakes in front of him are cold.
~*~*~
Surprisingly it doesn't get too awkward. Steve congratulates himself when the morning briefing goes uninterrupted. He is civilized, he is on the point, he doesn't picture Danny naked. At all. Danny is on his best behavior; not once does Steve feel like punching him in the face.
During the next few days the case drags on without any real progress. They follow a few leads and hit a dead end every time. Steve has to make an effort not to take his frustration out on the team; he doesn't want to make things any worse.
Instead, he decides to keep it civil. So, when Danny gets mayo on his tie during lunch, Steve doesn't make fun mercilessly, but simply points it out and turns his attention back into his chicken ceasar salad. He even leaves it to Chin to ask the inevitable question when Danny gets up to go change his tie.
"You have a spare tie here?" Chin's mouth is twitching. Danny turns back. "I have a couple, actually", he says, "just in case of blood stains or something." A comeback itches on Steve's tongue, but he swallows it. Flirting, he thinks. It would count as flirting. Besides, the day before in the car Danny was clearly about to comment on some needless tire-burning antics, but he didn't say anything. Steve can afford to return the favor.
A couple of days go by the same way. They get nowhere with the case, and Steve continues to not picture Danny in compromising positions, absolutely not, and the flirting is still nonexistent, which is a good thing. A very good thing.
One afternoon, Steve is in his office going through some evidence. He is not hiding or anything, he wouldn't do that just because Chin is testing some new body wires on Danny and he's there with his shirt off, wires attached to his chest. Because that would be stupid. He's looking at photos from the crime scene when there's a knock on the door. Chin doesn't wait for an answer, just gets in and closes the door behind him. Steve puts the photo down.
"You want to talk about it?" Chin asks.
"Talk about what?"
"About you and Danny and how freaking nice you are to each other all the time? What's up with that? Did you have a fight?"
Steve thinks Chin has finally lost it. "No, of course not. What the hell?"
"So what's with the politeness campaign around here?" Chin asks. Steve doesn't know what to say; he knows he hasn't been giving Danny a hard time lately, but that's just because he's been trying not to be too obvious. He doesn't want Danny to... assume anything. He fails to see the problem with not arguing all the damn time.
"Are you really complaining because we get along too well?"
Chin laughs. "This isn't you getting along. You getting along is you asking him how many hours it takes to get his hair done every morning, or him bitching about your questionable interrogation methods."
And that's just crazy. "I haven't even used any questionable methods!" Steve says, because he hasn't.
"Exactly! What's up with that?"
Steve has to admit he has a point.
Chin isn't done. "He even mentioned your SEAL training once. And used the word ‘Navy'." Steve remembers that. How did he not notice at the time?
"It's not a big deal", he offers. It's weak.
"Right. Like it isn't a big deal that last Friday you left The Lounge at the same time without saying goodbye to anyone, and the next time we see you you're afraid to look each other in the eye?"
Steve's head snaps up. Chin, the bastard, is smirking. "Did you really think we wouldn't notice?"
"Look, you don't know what you're talking about." Or maybe he knows too well. In which case, fuck.
"I'm just saying. As the leader of this team, you should be worried if two members don't get along anymore. It jeopardizes the whole team. It would probably be better if you… released some of the tension." Chin really can't pull off the innocent look. Bastard.
"As the leader of this team, I might suggest that you are out of line." Steve's voice is dry. "Also, as the leader, I'm perfectly aware that that kind of thing just can't happen. You know it can't." He has a checklist he regularly goes through to remind himself why. The words 'boss', 'partner', and 'police force' appear on it quite a few times.
Chin nods. "Yeah, it probably shouldn't. But something happened already, didn't it? So now the question just becomes, what are you going to do to fix it?"
"And how do you suppose I do that?" Steve asks while looking down at the photo on the desk. Chin sighs.
"Maybe you should spend a minute thinking how you want to fix it."
Steve knows perfectly well how he'd like to fix it. Usually, in his mind, 'fixing it' involves different variations of bending Danny over the conference table, getting on his knees in the locker room showers, or making out on the couch in his office for a couple of hours, depending on his mood. Today, the thoughts of how to fix it have included the backseat of the Camaro, and biting Danny's neck while he was busy with some paperwork. But every thought gets pushed down, because it has to.
Some of that must be showing in his face because Chin grabs his shoulder and squeezes a little.
"This isn't the Navy, you know."
He's right, of course, but Steve can't fool himself into thinking it's that simple. But maybe Chin is also right about how ridiculous this all is, and how it's time to do something about it.
~*~*~
"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute? There's something you need to see." Steve lifts his head when Danny knocks on his door and peaks his head in. He definitely sees the problem now – usually Danny would have just barged in without bothering to knock or check if Steve's busy. Steve always complains about it, but now he realizes he doesn't really mind.
"Do you think we've been acting weird?" Steve asks when Danny gets in.
Danny snorts. He sits on a chair next to Steve's desk and puts down the folder he's carrying.
"If you ordering pizza and not getting pineapple in it just out of spite constitutes as weird, then yeah, definitely."
Steve remembers that particular pizza from the day before, and it really wasn't like that. "Hey, I enjoy pepperoni! Occasionally."
Danny rolls his eyes. "Sure you do."
He's right. Steve doesn't like pepperoni. This has to stop. "Whatever. Can we just… not be weird? It's getting in the way of work. If this is because, well, you know." Steve makes a gesture with his hand.
Danny grins. "Are you twelve? It's called sex, Steve."
Steve glares at him. How come Danny is so relaxed about this? Because, his mind supplies, Danny probably doesn't spend his days picturing ways it could happen again. Time to man up. "If this is about the sex, then I suggest we get over it. We're professionals, right? It wasn't a big deal."
Danny leans back in the chair and fixes his eyes on Steve. "Right. I agree. We're not doing it again, so there's no reason we can't just be like always."
Steve breaths out. If Danny can do it, then he definitely can do it too. The stupid, distracting daydreaming thing is going to stop. "Exactly." Then something occurs to him. "Except, you can just go ahead and keep calling it Navy, because, you know, that's where I actually served."
"I make no promises. And that thing about the lack of pineapple wasn't a complaint!"
Steve smiles. This is good, this feels familiar. "Noted. Can we get back on the case now? It's driving me nuts. Please tell me the coroner had something we can use."
Danny picks up the folder. "In fact, he did. Let me show you."
~*~*~
Stakeouts are boring. At 2.45 am, Steve is on his third cup of coffee, wondering if they are wasting their time waiting for the suspect to show up. It's a long shot, being here, but Steve had a strong hunch and for once, Danny agreed. So here they are, sitting in a car, talking about nothing in particular.
Danny runs his finger across his brow. "So, have you always liked guys?"
Steve nearly spills his coffee. "I thought we agreed we're not talking about it." It's not like he's been able to stop thinking about it, but at least they haven't approached the subject again. Which is a good thing.
Apparently, Danny doesn't agree. "No, we agreed we aren't doing it. There's no rule we can't talk about it. There's a difference." Steve doesn't really see the difference.
"Oh, really. Since when are you the sharing and caring kinda guy, anyway?" Steve asks, annoyed, because they really should just leave it alone. No use in talking about any of this.
"I'm not. Just making small talk. I'm freaking bored."
"So talk about football or something."
"We've talked about football. And baseball, which you know nothing about. I've bitched to you about Rachel, told you about Grace's school project, you've rambled on and on about how SEALs have saved the world."
They have been talking a lot. It's been... nice. Comfortable, even. Steve figures he's got used to Danny's constant chattering, which should probably worry him more than it does.
"You know, we could just shut up for a change", he offers, just to get a rise out of Danny.
Naturally, it works. "No way we're doing that awkward silence thing, that's even worse than the weird being nice thing. Hey, I know, why don't we tackle your daddy issues, I'm sure that would be a great topic--"
Anything but that. Steve folds. "Yes. I've pretty much always liked guys."
That shuts Danny up, at least for a couple of seconds. "Huh."
"I mean, not that I've acted on it a lot, couldn't risk it, you know." Steve is sure Danny does know; a man doesn't go through SEAL training and get to where he is right now by being careless about that sort of thing.
"Yeah." Danny doesn't say anything else. Steve figures it can't hurt to keep talking, besides, he can't deny he's at least a bit curious.
"So what about you?" he asks.
"Yeah, pretty much. I was with Rachel for a really long time, so it wasn't really an issue, but after the divorce, well. I've looked both ways, I guess." Steve envies the way Danny seems so relaxed about admitting it. To Steve, the whole conversation is like pulling teeth.
"Haven't really found anyone special though", Steve says. It's a statement, not a question.
"Well, yeah, I haven't really had the time, have I? Casual hook-ups, sometimes, maybe, but when would I have the opportunity to actually start seeing someone, man or woman? Not with this job, not with Grace. You know how it is. When's the last time you've been serious with someone?"
Never, Steve almost says, but doesn't. It's not exactly true, even if it's close. "Yeah, I know. But is that something you'd want, then? Something more serious?" Steve can't picture himself married, never has. But Danny has been married, has wanted to be with just one person, wanted to share his life for good.
"At some point, sure. I don't really like the thought of being alone for the rest of my life."
Suddenly Steve can't take it anymore. "Wow, when did this get so heavy? Can we go back to football now, please?"
"Good idea." But Danny is silent, looking out the window to the dark street where nothing is happening. Steve wonders what he's thinking, if he is also wondering how nice it would be to find someone he could count on, someone who would get him and wouldn't be intimidated by the craziness of his life. Someone with whom he could sit in a car at three am, drink coffee, and feel absolutely comfortable.
Steve realizes Danny has turned to look at him and suddenly he worries everything he's thinking is all written on his face. He wants to reach over and grab that stupid tie and pull Danny to him and-- and Danny looks at him like he knows, like he wants the exact same thing, and it takes Steve physical effort not to do it. Not to close the distance and throw away the careful balance they have built between them.
"Do you think--" Danny starts, when suddenly a there's a gunshot, and they're out of the car and running towards the building across the street, the conversation forgotten.
~*~*~
It's over in a couple of minutes. Bad guys caught, case solved. Three hours later they walk out of the HPD station just as the sun is about to rise. Steve's head is heavy from the lack of sleep.
"Come on, I'll give you a ride. You look like death." Danny nudges him towards his car.
"As if. Ask me again after three days without sleep, that's when I look like death. There was this one time--"
"Oh my god, please, no SEAL stories. Just get in the car." Steve gets in the car. He really must be tired if Danny can just order him around like that.
They are silent during the ride. After twenty minutes, Danny pulls up at Steve's house and kills the engine.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but... Can I stay? I really shouldn't be driving, I'm about to crash."
Steve wonders what the wrong way to take that is. Or the right way, for that matter. Danny doesn't even wait for an answer, just gets out of the car and walks to the door, waiting for Steve to unlock it.
"You shouldn't be driving, period. You drive like a grandma." Steve fumbles with the keys a little before managing to get the door open.
"Says the maniac who-- you know what, never mind. Can I take a rain check on the insults?"
Steve drops the keys on the hall table and heads for his room. "Whatever. You know where everything is. I'm gonna take a shower."
The shower feels amazing, but Steve keeps it brief. He just wants to go to sleep. He wraps a towel on his waist and walks into his bedroom. He startles when he sees Danny on the bed, clearly asleep.
Steve walks over slowly. Danny is lying on his back, arms spread, fully dressed. Steve can't help but remember the last time Danny was spread out on this same bed; the thought makes him shiver. A part of him just wants to crawl under the covers and not deal with this at all, but then he goes to put on a pair of pajama bottoms before nudging Danny with his knee.
"Hey, princess. What are you doing?"
Danny opens his eyes and blinks at Steve. "Shit. Did I fall asleep?" He lifts up to lean on his elbows and looks around the room.
"Yeah. On my bed. What's up?"
"I just. Um. Wanted to. Talk, I guess? I mean, I--"
"Danny." It's six thirty in the morning, it's been a long day and even longer night and whatever Danny is about to say, Steve doesn't think he can handle it right now. "Let's just... In the morning, ok?" Steve takes a few steps to the other side and crashes on the bed. Fuck it, it's his bed. Danny can just deal with it.
"Yeah, sure. Sorry." Danny closes his eyes briefly, then moves to get off the bed. Steve reaches his arm and catches Danny's wrist.
"It's fine. Just stay, who cares." Steve is half asleep already, and only vaguely feels Danny fall back on the bed before passing out completely.
~*~*~
When Steve wakes up, it takes a minute to realize where he is. He's at home, in his bed, and the solid weight pressed against his back is Danny. Danny, who he asked to stay last night. He debates what to do for a minute, just breathing in and out. He can feel the moment Danny wakes up – he freezes for a second, then pulls away from Steve. No chance of sneaking out quietly, then.
"Morning", Steve says and turns around. It's not a big deal, anyway. What's a little accidental cuddling compared to some of the more compromising positions this bed has already seen them in? No need to be embarrassed. Awkwardness unnecessary. "No pancakes this morning?" Steve offers.
He expects Danny to shoot something back, something easy and insulting. Do I look like a maid? or why don't you just demand breakfast in bed while you're at it or in your dreams, McGarrett. Instead, he gets:
"We need to stop this."
Steve knows he's right. Asking him to stay, sleeping in the same bed, fucking cuddling – it's all messing with Steve's head and making it harder to remember that nothing can happen between them. "Yeah, this isn't exactly what we agreed on", Steve says.
"I cant.. I can't keep doing this."
"Is that what you wanted to talk about?"
Danny hesitates. "I... Yeah, I guess."
He's lying, Steve realizes. He doesn't know how he knows, he just does. Just like he had known that they hadn't yet found all the explosives about ten seconds before the last batch exploded, the same way he had known to push just a little harder to get a confession out of a suspect. Danny isn't saying everything he's thinking. It doesn't all add up.
"Then why'd you stay?" Steve asks.
Danny sighs. "I don't know. I don't know. I was tired?"
It's bullshit, and Steve knows Danny knows he knows it. Steve thinks back to their conversation last night, in the car, and then he thinks about that morning, the morning after, and he thinks of the pancakes, and what Danny had said, and what he had said. Suddenly he thinks he got the whole thing wrong. Because--
"You don't have your own things going on." It's simple because it's true. Steve knows.
"Huh?" Danny looks confused.
"That morning, you said you have your own things going on too. You let me believe you're hooking up left and right--"
"What the hell, I never said--"
"--when actually, you haven't. Not in a long time. I mean, I see you all the time. I would know. You just said that to... Why did you say that?"
Now it's Danny's turn to look annoyed. "Why didn't you say you're not seeing Catherine? Like, what's up with that? I had to hear it from Kono--"
"You heard it from Kono? Wait, Kono knows?"
"Apparently. She also saw right through us that first day after, uh, last time. She said we're not fooling anyone."
"Huh." Chin and Kono both seem to be cool with... this. Whatever it is. Steve isn't sure why he thought they wouldn't be.
"But you hadn't told me. So I figured you just didn't want that. With me. Not that I, that, um. Shit." Danny closes his eyes for a second, then opens them and looks straight at Steve, like he's made up his mind about something.
"I said that because you said it was a bad idea. Only, I don't think you really meant it."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because of how you looked like in the car yesterday. And because of how you look like now. I mean, all this pillow talk, we're sharing our fucking feelings here, and you haven't run away yet. And", Danny scoots a little closer and puts his hand between them, just resting on Steve's chest, "I don't think you want to."
Danny is wrong. Steve wants to run so badly he can physically feel it. But he also wants to stay right here, in this bed, because if Danny is saying what he thinks he's saying--
"And I would really appreciate if you'd tell me if I'm reading this wrong", Danny says in a low voice. "Like, before I do something embarrassing." He's is staring at Steve's lips now, and Steve feels his breath catching in his throat.
The tension is too much. "More embarrassing than waking me up with your erection?" The words slip out before he can stop himself.
Danny lets out a breath of air, almost a chuckle. "There's nothing embarrassing about my erection. I think the word you're looking for is 'impressive'."
Steve smiles. This, he can handle. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that." The question Danny didn't quite ask hangs between them, unanswered. Steve breathes in.
"You're. You're not reading this wrong. But... I still think this is a bad idea." Steve can't quite look directly at Danny.
"Probably", Danny agrees easily. "The question is, are we doing it anyway? To be honest, I've pretty much had enough of this touchy-feely crap for one morning." Suddenly Danny rolls them around and pins Steve under him. "So, what do you say, McGarrett? Wanna fuck up a perfectly fine professional relationship?" Danny's thigh is between his legs and his hand is on Steve's chest. Their hips line up and – yeah, fine, 'impressive' really is a good word. Steve lifts his hand to the side of Danny's face. What the hell, right?
"Yeah, I think I do."
~*~*~
"You're seriously not telling me where we're going? Is this how it's going to be?"
Steve smiles to himself and switches lanes. It's still early and the traffic is light.
"Relax, Danno. You're such a control freak."
"And you're such a freak, period. Excuse me if I don't want you to be in charge of every little thing."
"Like where we're spending our Sunday morning? Yeah, I can see how the control of your life is just slipping through your fingers."
Danny ignores him. "And for serious, you've got to stop calling me Danno. It's even more annoying now that we're..." Danny waves his hand and looks out the window.
"Now that we're what?" Fucking? In a relationship? In love? Steve isn't sure if he even wants to know the answer. Danny looks at him for a moment, then turns his head away again. "I don't need endearments, that's all."
"At least you don't have to worry about me calling you honey. Or sweetie."
That gets a small smile from Danny. "Now that would seriously be creepy."
"Exactly. You can stop whining anyway, we're here." Steve pulls up on the parking lot.
Danny lets out a groan when he sees where they are. "Pancakes? Seriously? Is this going to be a thing now?" Steve kills the engine, puts his hand on Danny's knee and looks at him.
"Yes. It's going to be a thing now. Sorry to tell you, but your pancakes are horrible."