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On the way back home from Kamekona’s, Steve finally allows himself to give this whole stress management ordeal a proper thought. He gets where Danny’s coming from; Steve’s always been a little too careless when it comes to his own safety, especially when other people are in danger. But what he told his partner was true; while he was actually scared of what could possibly happen in the future as a consequence of the radiation poisoning, allowing his fears to get the best of him was something the Navy trained out of him long ago, he simply couldn’t do it. And he didn’t want to either.
Still, the idea of Danny lying awake at night, tortured by his anxiety and sick with worry over Steve’s health… it makes him feel like someone’s twisting a knife in his guts. The last thing he wants to do is to add more fuel to the fire that is Danny’s overactive imagination for worst case scenarios.
That’s why two days later, when he receives Chloe’s full report, he thinks what the hell and gives it a read instead of throwing it in the trash as he’d initially planned. Some of the suggestions are straight up useless nonsense; nothing will ever convince him that putting a plant in his office will prevent him from getting cancer. Others are just common sense, like exercising and eating clean, which he already does.
He stops at a line about the importance of fostering “positive connections” and scrunches up his eyebrows in frustration. Steve knows what his relationship with Danny must look like from the outside, with all the bickering and constant disagreements. And it’s not like he doesn’t understand how Danny’s nagging and general negativity can be draining, he’s not completely immune to it either; as much as he loves the man, he can be a handful. But the truth is, for them it works. They balance each other out surprisingly well, and Steve not-so-secretly loves Danny’s tirades, his defiant attitude, and the fire in his eyes when he’s ready to let him know, in excruciating detail, everything that’s wrong with him. He wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.
He’s about to throw everything away and come up with an alternative plan to ease Danny’s concerns about his health, when something catches his attention: a section dedicated to reducing stress levels through hobbies. Finally, something he can get behind! Channeling his energy into a hobby seems like a sensible way of relaxing, and it’s a small change that he could easily integrate into his day-to-day life.
Steve goes through the list of recommended hobbies, each accompanied by a short description and the associated positive effects. He’s always been terrible at drawing, so painting’s out, and every time he tried to grow something in his back garden ended up in misery; there’s no way cooking should be considered a hobby and he’s not going to embarrass himself pouring his heart out on journaling. So, that leaves knitting.
Steve remembers returning to Hawaii for the first time in twenty years and having troubles adapting to civilian life. He remembers begrudgingly visiting a support group at the VA once, trying to make sense of his new status quo, and listening to one of the veterans sitting in the circle with needles and yarn in hand. And he remembers the man describing how the repetitive motions helped him deal with the stress and gave him something to focus on, preventing his mind from wandering; how the satisfaction of using his hands, not for death and destruction but to create something beautiful for once, some days was the only thing keeping him afloat.
Steve comes to a decision. He’s never considered himself an artsy guy, but he wants to make an effort to show Danny that he appreciates his concerns, and if that means learning to knit, well… he’s always been good with his hands and trying can’t hurt, right?
***
Danny looks quizzically at Steve from his office, trying to read his mind. His partner’s been a weirdo the whole day, distracted by god knows what and fidgeting with his phone. Luckily, it’s a slow day at work, all paperwork and no action, so Danny can afford spending half of his time studying Steve from afar, and the other half actually questioning the man in the hope of prying some information out of him.
Danny’s interrogation techniques, however, are no match for Steve’s stubbornness, so he’ll have to rely on plan B. That is, a six-pack of Longboards and some good old fashioned BFFs time.
When he opens the door to Steve’s home later that night, the sight stops him right in his tracks. Steve is sitting on the couch, aneurism face on, completely focused on the pair of wooden needles and baby blue yarn in his hands. His open laptop on the coffee table is playing what looks like a knitting tutorial on YouTube.
Huh. That’s not what Danny was expecting. His brain had been tormenting him the whole day, coming up with all the things Steve could be hiding from him, things of the life-threatening category. He’d been mentally preparing himself to reach Steve’s house and find out he’d upped and left for some third world country in a suicide mission, leaving him behind with just a stupid note. This, whatever it is, seems safer at the very least. Knowing Steve, he’s not just learning to knit for fun or whatever, it must be part of a secret plan to overthrow a shadow government; but for now, Danny can let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“What the hell are you doing?” Danny says, closing the door behind him.
Finally, Steve seems to register his presence and looks at him. He puts his work down and runs a tired hand on his face. “I’m defusing a bomb, what does it look like I’m doing?” he says, voice muffled by the hand.
And okay, they definitely spend too much time together because those words could’ve easily come out of Danny’s mouth. They probably have, at some point in the seven years they’ve known each other.
Danny takes a seat on the couch, putting the beers on the coffee table and picking up the needles, a mess of yarn still attached to them in sad lumps. He studies it for a moment before looking at Steve with an amused expression that promises nothing good. Steve’s already looking back, arms crossed on his chest defensively.
“This looks like shit, babe. The guys at the retirement home are going to make fun of you,” he says with mock concern.
“Like you could do any better,” Steve huffs and picks up two beers, offering one to Danny.
“Actually I can,” he says, putting down the needles and taking a sip. “Grace went through a phase, you could ask her for some pointers.” Steve’s eyebrows shoot up with curiosity at the revelation, but Danny doesn’t elaborate further. There’s no way he’s giving that ammunition away for free.
“So, what’s with the midlife crisis, buddy? I know you’re getting old with all that white in your hair, but this,” Danny gestures vaguely at the knitting supplies “this seems a bit out of character.”
Steve looks at him a little exasperated. “We’re the same age,” he says pointedly, “and I’m not having a midlife crisis, if I were I’d do something crazier. Like opening a restaurant.”
“That’d be crazy, you’re right.” Danny grins, clinking his bottle against Steve’s. “But enough with the banter, what’s up with you, really?”
“Nothing’s up with me, I’m doing this because of you,” Steve whines, a tinge of accusation in his tone, which he regrets immediately knowing what will follow.
“Because of me?” Danny says incredulously. “Grandpa, when did I ever ask you for a knitted sweater?” He puts his beer down to avoid spilling it everywhere in what he predicts is going to be a discussion that will require his hands to move around a lot.
“Wait, calm down.” Steve puts his hands forward. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just mad at how hard this bullshit is,” he complains, pointing at the video still playing on his laptop. “No way this is supposed to be relaxing.”
Relaxing. The word seems to light up a bulb for Danny, who looks at him warily. “Relaxing? Is that what you’re doing?”
Steve sighs. “Okay, so. I read the full report, the one from the stress management consultant?” he explains, finally. “And I haven’t changed my mind, I still think it’s mostly useless crap. But she suggested taking up a hobby to decompress and I mean, trying something new can be fun,” Steve says casually. “Plus, we wouldn’t want your money to go to waste, right?”
Danny looks him in the eyes. He knows Steve’s not doing this because of a newfound interest in arts and crafts, or because he actually thinks it will positively impact his health. Or because of Danny. He’s doing it for Danny. Something tugs at his chest uncomfortably at the thought, but there’s no time to unpack that right now, so he just rolls his eyes.
“Color me surprised,” Danny says, tone dripping with sarcasm. “I can’t believe the day has come when you finally listen to me on something. But still, I have to ask, why knitting?”
Steve thinks about it for a moment, fidgeting with the label on the beer. “It seems like a useful skill to have, just in case.”
“Of course that’s your reasoning, why did I even ask?” Danny snorts. “You’re not relaxing, you’re preparing for the inevitable collapse of society.”
“It’s always good to be prepared. And textiles are —” Steve tries to argue, but Danny interrupts him, waving a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah I’m gonna be so jealous of your knitted cargo pants when all the clothing stores are closed in this post-apocalyptic hellscape you’re making up in your mind.”
“You’ll see, buddy.” Steve finishes his beer in one last gulp and picks up the needles, his expression going from amused to dejected real quick when he looks at the sorry state of his little project. “Maybe I should finish this scarf before venturing into tactical knitwear, don’t you think?”
“A scarf? Is that what this is?” Danny asks. “Man, it pains me to be the one who has to remind you of this but… are you aware that we live in Hawaii? Are you gonna wear a scarf to the beach?” he says. “Now, if we were in the great state of New Jersey, with its varied weather and beautiful, snowy winters —“
“It’s fine,” Steve stops him with a smirk. “I’m just gonna give it to you. If you can wear a tie in Hawaii you can wear a scarf too, right?”
Danny ends up ranting about appropriate working place attire and detectives back in New Jersey for the next twenty minutes.
***
Steve’s first finished piece is the ugliest, lumpiest, most uneven scarf known to man. At some point, the baby blue skein of yarn Steve started with was exchanged for an obnoxious green, making the whole thing a two-toned pain to watch. Danny secretly loves it.
When Steve enters his office one Tuesday morning, wearing that monstrosity and a goofy smile, Danny can’t help the laugh that escapes his lips. Steve twirls, showing off his creation, and asks “So, what do we think?”
“It’s hurting my eyes,” Danny leans back in his chair. “I should arrest you for assaulting a public officer.”
“C’mon, it’s not that bad.” Steve pouts. It’s ridiculous and totally not endearing.
“No, no. It is that bad, it’s hideous,” Danny tries to insist, but their conversation gets interrupted by the ringing of Steve’s phone. A crime scene is waiting for them.
Before they head out, Steve takes the scarf off and with a troublesome smile he wraps it around Danny’s neck. “I did say I was going to give it to you, didn’t I?” he says, and then he’s out.
The scarf is soft and smells unquestionably like Steve. Danny’s too stunned by how much enjoys it to even be annoyed.
After that, Steve’s knitting becomes impossible to avoid. He quickly gets over the initial embarrassment of being a beginner and starts practicing his knits and purls whenever he can, ignoring the amused looks of their coworkers.
They’re stuck on a case and Steve whips out his needles to work on a hat for a couple of minutes before coming up with the perfect plan to apprehend their suspect. Danny goes to Steve’s house for beers and steaks, and finds him working on some socks. He bursts into Steve's office to complain about some dubious wording in his latest report, and catches him looking at an old lady’s blog detailing the best methods to prevent curling in a stockinette piece instead of doing his paperwork.
Steve may have started this whole thing to ease Danny’s concerns about his health, but there’s no doubt now that he actually likes knitting, and it’s surprisingly refreshing. It’s very much unlike him, but in the best way possible. Danny spends more time than he’d care to admit looking at Steve “in action” and he’s fascinated by this new side of him. The uncertain movements of his hands, almost shy, are so different from Steve’s usual competency and cockiness; the laser focus is nothing new, but the stakes are lower, skipping a stitch won’t put any lives in danger, so Steve can let himself relax and freely enjoy the process, expression unusually unguarded.
In an uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability, Steve told him that one of the reasons he enjoys knitting so much is that it kinda feels like playing the guitar again. Danny didn’t get it at first, but it makes sense: Steve’s still sharing a part of himself, but it’s not unbearable like pouring your heart out into a song. There are no words to it, it’s less exposing. And Danny loves that for him.
But Danny’s not the only one relishing this new Steve. Lou teases him, but he’s genuinely impressed by his determination and the quick pace at which he’s improving. Junior’s confused by the whole thing, but he dutifully accompanies Steve to the yarn store and offers his honest thoughts on what colors would look best together for his next project. And Tani always asks him about whatever he's working on, excitedly demanding photographic updates. Her eyes shine with glee when, one day, Steve gifts her one of his handmade hats. It’s orange and purple and she’s probably never gonna wear it under the boiling Hawaiian sun, but Tani’s joy and the look on Steve’s face at her reaction make the whole team’s day a little brighter.
***
“Uncle Steve, you’re holding your working yarn all wrong,” Grace scolds him, “that’s why your tension is so uneven!”
It’s a pleasantly warm afternoon, and they’re sitting on Steve’s couch, working together on a pair of gloves. Grace thought it’d be cute if they made one each. It’s not an easy task, but his girl is an excellent teacher, showing Steve how to fix his technique and helping him spot his mistakes.
“You’re too good at this for someone who hasn’t knitted since she was a child,” he mumbles, peering at Grace’s perfectly executed stitches. He’s not going to get competitive about knitting, especially not with Gracie, but the difference in quality between their gloves does sting a little bit.
“It’s like riding a bike, I guess,” she shrugs. “And I used to practice a lot, you should’ve seen the first sweater I’ve ever knitted!”
“Couldn’t have been worse than my first scarf.”
“Wait, I think I still have some photos,” she says, picking up her phone. She scrolls through the camera roll for a while, until she finds what she was looking for, an amused look in her eyes. Steve leans over to look at the phone. It’s a picture of Gracie, younger than he’s ever known her, sporting a huge smile that’s short on a couple of teeth and a pink sweater several sizes too big for her little body. It’s so cute Steve’s already thinking about asking her for a physical copy so he can put it on his fridge, when she says “Wait, you can’t really see how bad it is from this one,” and swipes over to the next photo, wearing a mischievous grin which confuses Steve, until he drops his gaze back to the phone.
Oh, this is so good. The star of this new picture is not little Gracie, but a young Danny making peace signs for the camera with both his hands, lips stretched into a smile. He’s wearing a pair of pink heart-shaped sunglasses which he must’ve stolen from Grace considering how badly they fit on his face, and more importantly, the sweater from the previous picture. It stretches dangerously over Danny’s shoulders and biceps, one sleeve is longer than the other, and the body itself is clearly too short, showing a sliver of Danny’s furry stomach.
Steve mentally thanks the Navy for having trained him to keep his cool under any circumstances; he wouldn’t have known how to act normally otherwise. Instead, he laughs along with Grace and says “Hey, I think it looks great, very avant-garde.”
And speaking of Danny, the man himself comes out of the kitchen, holding two steaming cups. “Teas for the knitting club,” he sings-songs, placing them on the coffee table. “What are you two maniacs giggling about?”
Grace turns her phone toward her dad to show him the picture, and Danny purses his lips immediately at the sight. “Ha. I see how it is,” he says, putting his hands on his hips. “You’re making fun of a devoted father supporting his beautiful daughter’s future career in the fashion industry.”
“No one’s making fun of you, buddy, it’s a great picture. Actually, Gracie, you should send it to me so I can show it to the rest of the team,” Steve says smugly. “So they can all appreciate what a supporting father Danno is.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Danny waves his hands dismissively and heads to the kitchen. When he comes back again, he’s holding a beer in one hand and balancing little Charlie on his hip with the other. The kid’s enthusiastically eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, spreading the condiments all over his face.
“How come you’re getting a beer and I’m getting tea?” Steve asks him, as Danny puts Charlie down on his spot on the carpet, surrounded by toy trucks and action figures.
“Because, unlike you, I’m not ninety years old,” he says, pointing the beer toward the knitting supplies. “And I can’t watch the game without a beer, who do you think I am?” he adds, dropping on the armchair with a satisfied sigh.
“Or maybe you could skip the game and join our knitting club. I still need proof that you can actually knit,” Steve says.
“You used to be pretty good, please Danno!” Grace piles on, puppy eyes and all.
“Yeah, please Danno!” Steve imitates her.
Danny rolls his eyes, clearly immune to the pleading after years of exposure therapy. “I’d rather do something more appropriate for my age, like playing with toys with Charlie over there.”
They let it go for now, but Steve knows that one day he’ll convince Danny to show him his knitting skills. Hopefully, a day in the far future, when Steve’s own skills will be so good he’ll win the competition that he’s sure they’re gonna make of the whole thing.
The rest of the afternoon passes in harmony. At some point Steve takes a pause from the glove to stretch his hands and he looks at his surroundings, suddenly aware of how domestic the whole situation is.
Seven years ago he’d never imagined his life would look like this. He’s in the house he grew up in, a house that he left filled with pain for his mother’s death and anger for his father’s decision to send him away; a house he came back to with the sound of the shot that killed his father still ringing in his ears. But he’s here now and he’s happy, surrounded by people he loves. Since that moment when they first met and pointed their guns at each other, Danny’s been changing his life in ways he didn’t think were possible. And it’s not just Danny, the whole team, his ohana, came to him just at the right time, when he was impossibly lost, making Hawaii feel like home again. And now he’s in his actual, physical home and he doesn’t think about the splatter of blood on the wall that welcomed him years ago, or the dent in the door of his old room, from when he punched it before packing a bag for Annapolis. Instead, he listens to Grace chatting about a project she’s doing for school, Charlie making racing sounds while he plays with his trucks. He watches Danny’s profile, his eyes brighter than usual thanks to the light coming from the TV, and warmth spreads in his chest.
***
Steve’s running up the staircase of the apartment building their perp entered in the hope of losing them. Either the guy’s delusional or he’s never heard of Lieutenant Commander McGarrett’s crazy stunts. Danny leaves the adrenaline-inducing chase to his partner, opting for a tranquil elevator ride. There’s blood splattered on the button for the twelfth floor, so it doesn’t exactly take a detective to guess where the idiot’s headed. When Danny reaches the floor, he’s welcomed by even more blood, specifically a trail on the carpet leading to apartment 5B. Steve’s bullet must’ve hit the man good, judging from the amount of blood he’s lost.
He catches Steve coming from the other side of the corridor, breathing heavily from the run, and silently nods his head toward the door, gun firmly in his hands. Steve understands the message and on a count of three they kick the door down and enter the apartment. Inside, they find their perp on the floor, unconscious, and an old lady standing over him, holding a pan.
“Oh dear, I didn’t kill him, did I?” she says worriedly, putting down the pan and smoothing out her floral dress.
Steve perfunctorily searches the apartment, while Danny leans down to check the perp’s pulse. “Don’t worry, ma’am, he’s still alive,” he says, and then proceeds to update Lou over his earpiece and call for the EMTs.
While the medical team takes care of the unconscious man, Steve and Danny take the lady’s statement. Apparently, the perp knocked to her door mentioning a kitchen accident and asking for a first aid kit, but when he turned violent she smacked him in the head with the pan. The fact that the man had already been bleeding for a while didn’t help his reflexes.
Steve’s been distracted during the whole account of the events, and when Danny follows his gaze to see what’s so interesting about this old lady’s apartment, he lets out a snort.
Steve shoots him a funny look, probably embarrassed about being caught and Danny can’t help himself. He whistles and says “Would you look at that, what a beautiful blanket!”
He moves toward said blanket, laid out on the couch in the living area, and takes a glove off to fully appreciate its texture.
“Did you make this, ma’am?” Danny asks, and the lady’s eyes light up with the excitement of someone getting to talk about something they're very passionate about.
“I did, it’s one of my proudest works! This type of stitch is very hard to pull off,” she nods, lovingly caressing the blanket.
“Ha, you see, my friend here,” Danny says, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder, feeling the man tense up under it. “He’s a bit of a knitter himself. You should totally swap stories.”
The lady takes a good look at Steve, evidently surprised by the revelation. Danny gets it, Steve’s not exactly the first thing one would picture when thinking about knitting.
“Really? Oh, that’s great, it’s always nice to meet a kindred soul! I’m actually part of —“
Danny takes the opportunity to leave the conversation and join Lou, Tani and Junior, who are looking over the medical team and getting a final assessment of the situation.
“Did you get her statement?” Lou asks, when he sees him approach.
“Yes, the perp asked the lady for a first aid kit and then tried to assault her when she realized that something weird was going on,” Danny says. “Luckily he’d already lost a lot of blood so she was able to get away and whack him with a pan.”
“Nice, very nice.” Lou looks over to her, impressed.
“What are they still talking about?” Tani asks, tilting her head toward Steve and the old lady.
“I think she’s asking Steve to join her knitting cult,” he says, eliciting a laugh out of the rest of the team.
A couple of minutes later, Steve finally joins them, a satisfied look in his eyes. Danny was a bit afraid Steve would be annoyed at being put on the spot like that, but it seems the joy of sharing a hobby with someone else is stronger than that.
“Did you make a new friend, buddy?” Danny asks with the same tone he would use talking with Charlie about one of his classmates.
“I did, she’s a very nice lady.”
“I bet she is.”
“And what’s that in your hand?” Lou asks, pointing at the piece of paper Steve’s holding.
“Oh, this. She —“ Steve wavers. “She gave me her number.”
A loud chorus of wolf-whistles and laughs explodes from the team. They all try to rag on him at the same time, delighted by this turn of events.
“Oh my god, boss —“
“Look at you, playboy!”
“Wow, I wasn’t trying to play wingman here, but —“
“Nicely done, sir.”
Steve rolls his eyes and shuts them up. “She gave me her number to share patterns and knitting tips, she wasn’t hitting on me,” he says, knowing that his words will do nothing to stop the onslaught of jokes he’s going to be subject to for the entire week.
Only after they’re back in Danny’s car, on the way home, Steve adds out of nowhere “She also invited me to a meeting her knitting club’s having next week.”
Ha. Knew it.
“That’s nice, are you gonna go?”
“Maybe.” Steve shrugs.
Danny smirks. “And maybe, for your second date you could take her to play bingo at the retirement home.”
“Very funny.”
They sit in silence for a couple minutes before Danny settles more in his seat and says “It really was a beautiful blanket, tho.”
Steve doesn’t answer immediately, so Danny looks at him. His pensive eyes are on the road, but his mind’s clearly somewhere else.
“Yes, it was,” he agrees, finally.
***
“I swear to God, Steven —“
There’s something wrong with Steve, but he doesn’t remember what. His memory is hazy and the stabbing pain on the left side of his body makes it very hard to focus on anything else.
“— a bullet in the shoulder of all things —“
He doesn’t know where he is or what happened, and he can’t keep his eyes open for more than one second, but he recognizes that combination of worry and anger in the voice echoing in his ears. He’s heard it too many times to count.
“If you don’t — I’m going to kill you myself.”
Yeah, only one person would threaten to kill him in a situation like this.
Finally, he gets a grip on his own consciousness and manages to open his eyes. Danny's hovering over his body, putting pressure on Steve’s shoulder, hands covered in his blood.
“Ouch,” Steve says, and Danny’s eyes shoot up to look at him, eyebrows scrunched up in anger.
“Ouch? That’s all you have to say for yourself, you crazy idiot?” Danny yells. “Are you okay? What the hell happened?”
Steve takes a moment to collect his thoughts over the flaring pain in his shoulder. They were on a case, following a guy who, they suspected, killed his rich wife two days ago to cash in the insurance money. He remembers chasing the man over the street surrounding his property and him taking out a gun and shooting Steve. In typical McGarrett fashion, he ignored the pain and kept running, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He reached their suspect with a tackle and they struggled for a bit, until the man hit him hard in his wounded shoulder, the bullet still lodged in there. The pain was so sharp he must’ve lost consciousness for a bit, until Danny found him bleeding on the street.
He recounts the events to his partner and asks “Did you catch him?”
“Did I catch him? No, I did not catch him, what’s wrong with you?” Danny says as the ambulance he must’ve called while Steve was unconscious arrives, paramedics ready to dress his wound and take him to the hospital. Danny stays with him during the whole process.
It’s nothing life-threatening and Steve’s definitely been through worse. But it hurts like a bitch and he lost quite a bit of blood so they decide to pump him with painkillers and keep him overnight for observation. Danny comes back to visit him after work, having just wrapped up the case. Apparently, Tani and Junior were able to track the guy down and arrest him after he tried to buy a plane ticket a couple of hours after his encounter with Steve.
Danny’s holding a box of malasadas and a plastic bag. “I brought you food and your knitting stuff, in case you get bored and try to escape. But I guess you’re too out of it to do anything right now.”
“Yeah, they gave me the good stuff.” Steve shoots him a dopey smile.
Danny updates him on the case and his voice, combined with the painkillers, lolls Steve to a peaceful sleep. When he wakes up, it’s morning and Danny’s still sitting on the chair next to his bed, but instead of talking, he’s holding Steve's latest project, a red and white striped scarf. Actually, he’s not just holding it. Steve has to double check, thinking he may be hallucinating because of the drugs, but no, it’s real. Who would have thought that in order to finally witness Danny knitting all he had to do was take a bullet to the shoulder.
Danny’s hair is all messed up, probably from sleeping in the chair. His hands move steadily on the scarf, tongue poking out of his lips and eyes narrowed in concentration. Steve gets lost in the lines around them, much deeper than they were when they first met. The morning light illuminates him from behind, and maybe it’s the drugs talking, but it feels almost ethereal. Steve wants to reach out and fix his hair, but he knows it would ruin the moment. There’s a lot of things that Steve wants but can’t have when it comes to Danny.
At some point, Danny must’ve felt his gaze on him, because he looks up knowingly.
“Ha. You caught me,” he smiles.
Steve clears his throat, his voice a bit hoarse from sleep. “I asked you to knit with me a million times and that’s when you choose to do it? When I’m unconscious?”
“I was getting bored,” Danny huffs. “And I wanted to know if I still got it.” He then proceeds to show Steve the few rows he knitted, sporting a cocky smile. “And I obviously do, look at this beauty.”
It’s pretty damn good, Steve can’t deny it. Even if he wants to so, so badly, knowing Danny’s going to be insufferable about it. He rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the fond expression on his face. “Grace’s still better.”
“Of course she is, she’s the most beautiful and talented girl in the entire world,” Danny says matter-of-factly, resuming the knitting. “I don’t even actually care about being good at it, I just need to be better than you.”
There it is.
Steve’s not going to take the bait. He’s in his forties, he’s a highly trained Navy SEAL. He doesn’t need to one-up his best friend at knitting. It’s just a hobby. For fun.
Luckily, before he manages to embarrass himself, they’re interrupted by the rest of the team filling the room with their chatter. Interestingly, Danny puts the scarf away as soon as Lou, Tani and Junior enter the room, instead of bragging to them too, as Steve would’ve expected.
“Boss! You look good for someone who got shot,” Tani says, studying Steve’s face.
Danny scoffs. “That’s just a regular Wednesday for this maniac.”
“You got your boy quite worried, yesterday,” says Lou, nodding his head in Danny’s direction.
Steve flinches at the words. He already knew, Danny’s always worried about him one way or the other. But hearing it out loud, from Lou’s steady voice instead of Danny’s furious rants, somehow is worse.
“I was just doing my —“ he tries to justify, but Danny talks over him, spitting the words loudly. “Worried? Why would I be worried about this animal? I was worried about the colossal amounts of paperwork I’ll have to fill out when he eventually gets himself killed.”
“Oh no, yeah, he wasn’t worried,” Tani nods mockingly, “he was just getting his ten thousand steps in, with all that pacing around.”
“And the yelling, very good for cardio,” adds Junior.
Danny stands up, waving his hands. “Alright, you two comedians,” he says. “I’m leaving, at least one of us has to do their job.”
Giggles follow Danny as he heads out and Steve watches him go like a lovesick fool. Or at least he thinks that’s what he must look like, judging from the knowing smiles the rest of the team gives him.
Fortunately, they leave it at that, changing the topic to the sorry state of his shoulder and shooting the breeze before they also have to get back to work.
When they leave, Steve picks up the scarf, looks again at the rows Danny knitted and refuses to think about how nicely they blend in with Steve’s.
***
It’s been a long week at work, their latest case involving a drug ring and too many idiots jumping into the traffic to avoid being apprehended. Danny lets out a frustrated groan and runs a hand through his hair, staring blankly at the screen of his computer. Writing a report without making Steve look like he should be the one behind bars, with his crazy stunts and hatred for proper police procedure, is a skill he honed to perfection over the years they’ve known each other, and yet his creative writing skills are failing him right now.
Thankfully, the man in question gives him an excuse to put the report momentarily aside as he enters Danny’s office, holding a paper bag in his hands.
“I have something for you,” Steve says, an uncharacteristically nervous look on his face.
“Please, tell me you didn’t really knit me a tie.” Danny tries to lighten up the mood, getting on his feet and opening the bag as Steve hands it to him.
Inside, there’s a blanket. When Danny unfolds it, he has to lift his hands over his head to prevent it from touching the floor due to its impressive size. He can feel the softness of the material on his fingers, the warmth it radiates. The bright blue yarn twists and turns to create beautiful stitches, and looking at them silently for a long minute, Danny realizes he’s already seen them before. That’s when he remembers the old lady from that case a while ago; she must’ve shared the pattern for her precious blanket with Steve.
“It’s not perfect, but I thought —” Steve hesitates, shifting on his feet. “You said you couldn’t sleep because you were worried about my health and I don’t know if that’s still the case but maybe, maybe this blanket could be a reminder that I’m fine, and I am taking it seriously.” He looks Danny in the eyes. “I know it’s stupid —”
“It’s not stupid!” Danny’s voice trembles and it’s humiliating, but he can’t dwell on it right now, so he puts a hand on Steve’s arm and looks back at him firmly. “Thank you, it’s beautiful,” he says, at a loss for words for once in his life.
Steve gifting away his creations is nothing new. After the success with Tani’s hat, Steve decided that everyone on the team must be blessed by at least one of his creations. Danny’s own collection of knitwear has grown impressively in the last months for someone who lives in Hawaii. He even took a hat with him the last time he went to New Jersey, his whole family complimenting Steve’s skills.
This, however. This feels different. Steve made him a blanket to ease his worries, to help him sleep better. A huge blanket that surely took him hours to finish. The yarn is incredibly soft, softer than Steve’s go-to, and he’s pretty sure he has a shirt exactly that same shade of blue. Danny’s heart aches.
Steve’s lips stretch into a timid smile and he opens his arms for Danny to step into. Danny’s heart is beating like crazy, to the point he’s afraid Steve will hear it, but his partner's strong arms have never felt this good around him before and he doesn’t want to let go.
“I love you, buddy” Steve says, voice muffled by Danny’s hair.
“I love you, too.” Danny says back. And it’s not the first time they said it, they say it all the time. But it’s the first time Danny realizes what those words might actually mean to him.
When he gets home that night, Danny breaks up with Melissa. They had their fun and he loves her, but deep down he’s always known he’s not in love with her. He’s not been fair. He’d even go as far as to say he’s been an asshole, stringing her along for all these years when he’s clearly been in love with his best friend all along.
He’s in love with Steve, and it only took seven years and a blanket for him to realize it. A lot of things make more sense now, like the thrill he gets from their arguments, or his inability to look away when Steve, that nudist, takes his shirt off at every occasion; the lengths he’s willing to go to to make sure Steve’s safe, going to Steve’s house after work as if they don’t already spend enough time together at work; how when he thinks about the future, the first thing he sees is two old men sitting on the chairs on Steve’s beach.
In typical Danny Williams fashion, he starts to worry about everything that comes with this new revelation. Steve’s a man, and while Danny’s not completely surprised by this turn of events, he’s still totally out of his depth here. He’s always suspected he might not be completely straight. He’s had some pretty intense friendships when he was in school, and he never shies away from appreciating a man’s looks or getting a bit flirty just for the sake of it. But exploring this side of himself never seemed worth it. And then he met Rachel and forgot about everything else.
But more importantly, Steve’s his best friend and he’d rather live a life of pining than fuck up their current relationship. Steve doesn’t feel the same, anyway. He’s never shown interest in men and he currently has a girlfriend. Danny comes to the conclusion that nothing has to change. He’s happy with what they have, everything’s fine. Loving Steve’s always been easy, being in love with Steve can’t be that much harder.
When he goes to bed he puts the blanket on, and it’s too hot but still, he sleeps better than he had in months.
***
Danny was wrong, being in love with Steve is so much harder. Now that he’s aware of it, he can’t avoid noticing how long his eyelashes are, and how his eyes change color with his mood; the bulging of his forearms when he crosses his arms on his chest while interrogating their perp of the week, and the ink on his shoulders peeking out from the sleeves of his t-shirts.
But that’s fine, he can deal with the physical attraction. It just feels like a revival of his teenage years with how acquainted he is once again with his right hand.
What’s not fine is having to deal with Steve just being his normal self. Steve reassuring a family that they’re going to find their missing child, Steve playing with Charlie, both of them laughing loudly; Steve listening attentively to Chin while he recounts his last case through a video call, and smiling sadly when he hangs up because he misses his friend. Steve looking at the yarn display at Michaels for ten minutes straight, like picking the best color for a sweater is the most important mission of his life.
Which is what he’s doing right now and sure, Danny’s in love with him, but his patience is running low. He leans over the shopping cart, head resting on one hand and asks “Remind me again why I’m here?”
“Moral support,” Steve says, scanning attentively the skeins, overwhelmed by the variety in colors and types of fiber.
“Buddy, I assure you Joanie’s not gonna care if you pick Unicorn Puke instead of Cupcake Overdose,” Danny huffs. “Who even comes up with these names, they’re ridiculous—“
“Danny, it’s for her birthday! It has to be perfect,” Steve looks at him seriously.
“Is she even old enough to appreciate getting a handmade sweater for her birthday instead of, I don’t know, a toy or something?”
“I also bought her a doll.”
Their conversation is interrupted by a store employee approaching them with a smile to ask “Can I help you, gentlemen?”
Steve nods. “Yes, please. I’m planning on knitting a sweater for my niece’s birthday and I’m —“
The lady’s eyes widen at Steve’s words and well, the surprised looks are starting to get old. C’mon, it’s 2018, men can lovingly knit a sparkly sweater for their nieces if they want to. Even if they look like underwear models and know a million different ways to kill you with a toothpick. Whatever. At least Steve never seems annoyed by the looks, too caught up in his own enjoyment of the craft.
“Is she young? We just got this beautiful alpaca wool, it’s super soft and durable, so it’s perfect for a child,” the woman points Steve toward a stack of skeins, the price tag making Danny feel a little lightheaded. “And so many fun colors to choose from! A handmade sweater is such a sweet gift, you must be a great uncle,” she adds, putting a hand on Steve’s bicep.
Huh. Okay, so Danny must’ve misinterpreted her initial reaction. Somehow, this is worse. Steve doesn’t seem to notice the lady’s flirting, too busy reading labels and feeling the softness of different skeins.
“Uh, thanks. What color would you pick for a four year old? I think she likes yellow, but I’m open to suggestions," Steve asks.
The woman starts to list colors, pointing at the skeins one by one and touching Steve whenever she can get away with it.
“You know, I’d love to see the final product, maybe I could give you my number and —“
Danny’s gonna kill himself in the middle of this Michaels.
He doesn’t have any right to be jealous. But it’s still a painful sight to watch. Steve doesn’t even seem interested, he’s just being perfectly polite. Not to mention, Steve has a girlfriend and as much as Danny loves to call him an animal, he wouldn’t go around and flirt with other women. Maybe Danny’s just jealous of how this random lady is free to shoot her shot at Steve with no consequences. Hell, he’d do the same if he could. But he can’t. He tunes the conversation out and just looks at Steve, which has recently become one of his favorite pastimes.
Later, when they’re exiting the store with significantly more yarn than what one would normally need to knit a sweater for a child, Danny says “Who knew knitting would make you such a lady magnet? At least she wasn’t eighty this time…”
“I think it was just a plan to sell more yarn,” Steve chuckles, putting the bags in the trunk of the Camaro, before heading to the driver seat.
“Yeah, because that’s the only reason a woman would drool all over you,” Danny says sarcastically, looking at Steve over the roof of the car. He immediately regrets it when he sees his partner's smug expression.
“And what would these other reasons be, Daniel?”
Danny can’t decide if the smirking is more annoying or attractive.
He settles on annoying. “I changed my mind, it definitely was just a marketing strategy. And judging from the fact that my car is filled to the brim with sparkly yarn, I’d say it worked.”
“I admit I got a little bit carried away, but let’s go back to you complimenting my good looks, I liked that conversation better.”
“I did no such thing, you buffoon. I literally said that the only reason a woman would flirt with you is to sell you stuff,” Danny says, entering the car in the hope of stopping this conversation before it heads to dangerous territory.
“Yeah, but the way you said it implied the opposite.” Steve evidently doesn’t catch the drift as he gets behind the wheel and starts the car.
“Whatever I implied lost all its meaning when you decided to be the most irritating person on this planet over it.”
Steve laughs and leaves it at that. Danny’s relieved by the end of that conversation. The last thing he needs right now is to have to make a shopping list of all the things he finds attractive in Steve in order to shut him up.
The music from the radio fills the silence for a while, until Steve mutters “I think you’re attractive too.”
Danny’s heart skips a beat. What the hell is wrong with this guy?
“Thank you, but I don’t need the consolation prize. I’m used to women ignoring me in your favor.” Danny says weakly, trying to deflect.
“Well, they shouldn’t. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You’re handsome. I’ve never seen you exercise once in all these years and yet your shoulders are wider than mine. And there’s no way you don’t know what those pants —“ Steve stops himself and a look of panic flashes across his face. “Huh. And you have nice eyes. Blue.”
Danny must’ve actually killed himself back in the store and gone to hell because this is torture. Steve doesn’t mean anything by it, he’s just being nice. In a weirdly detailed way, but still.
“I do have blue eyes, thank you.” Danny says, trying to be as conversational as possible, like he’s not dying on the inside.
“You’re welcome.” Steve nods, looking everywhere except at Danny.
“Anyways,” Danny clears his throat, “you should probably tell that woman that you have a girlfriend, you know.”
“What? Oh.” Steve seems confused by the change of topic. “I broke up with Lynn months ago, I forgot to tell you.”
Danny’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You — what? Why? How do you even forget about such a thing?” he yells.
“It was no big deal, we’re better off as friends, it’s fine. I just forgot.”
“There’s something very wrong with you, my friend.” Danny says exasperated. He turns to look at the scenery from the car’s window. A million different thoughts going through his head.
***
Danny’s been on sick leave for the last couple of days and Steve’s possibly going crazy without him. He’s not worried, it’s just a stupid flu. The real problem is that, apparently over the years, Steve lost his ability to go more than one day without seeing the man, and even less without talking to him. They text all day, sharing the most mundane things, like pictures of food or random thoughts. Steve heads out of the headquarters to reach a crime scene and his eyes automatically scan the parking lot for the Camaro instead of his own car. He asks Danny’s opinion on a case and Danny complains about having to work even on his deathbed. The only reason he can think of why his team hasn’t killed him yet is that they’re just used to it from Danny’s trips to New Jersey. He’s probably more insufferable in those occasions anyway.
Now Steve’s on a stake out, sitting in his car with Lou on the passenger seat, when his phone dings for the third time in a row, notifying him of an incoming message. He’s trying to be a professional and ignore it, but he can see Lou rolling his eyes.
“Just answer it. You’re a lost cause, the two of you,” he says, looking at the house their suspect lives in. The curtains are drawn and there’s been no sign of the man yet.
“Hey, it’s not my fault Danny loves me so much he can’t live without me,” Steve says, finally picking up the phone and reading the messages. It is indeed Danny, furiously detailing all the unrealistic things happening in the movie he’s watching.
Lou scoffs. “Man, don’t pretend you didn’t accidentally buy two lunches today because you forgot Danny was at home,” he says, shaking his head. “Talk about codependent.”
“I was just hungrier than usual.” Steve dismisses him, but he knows Lou’s not wrong. It’s kinda pathetic.
“You’re right,” says Lou after a bit.
“I’m right I was hungrier than usual?” Steve asks, confused.
“You’re right, Danny loves you.” he specifies and Steve doesn’t like where this conversation seems to be headed, so he feigns ignorance.
“Yes, it’s not like it’s a secret, he’s my best friend.”
“C’mon, don’t be daft. You know what I’m talking about.” Lou says, looking at him pointedly. Steve doesn’t have the courage to look back so he keeps staring at the house.
“Lou —”
“What are you afraid of?”
“Danny loves me, yes, but he’s not in love with me. I don’t want to make things awkward.”
Lou scoffs. He obviously disagrees, but he doesn’t want to put words in Danny's mouth, so he just asks “How do you know he doesn’t feel the same way?”
“I just know.”
“Well, I think it’s worth a try. And even if he doesn’t feel that way, you said it yourself, Danny can’t live without you. He’s not gonna get mad or leave you over this.”
“That was a joke, but no I don’t think he’d be mad either. But he’d start overthinking everything, he’d worry about me. It’s my problem, I don’t want to put that on him.”
Lou’s a good friend, one of the few people Steve really trusts and can open up to. He appreciates what he’s trying to do, but this thing with Danny is too complicated.
They sit in silence for a while, the only sound echoing in the car being Steve’s phone still ringing from Danny’s movie commentary, until they finally see their suspect leaving the house and get back in action.
Later that night, Steve lets himself into Danny’s house, holding a container filled with warm soup. He tries to put Lou’s words on the back of his mind and focus on the mission at hand. Steve’s not here because he’s in love with Danny and missed him the whole day, he’s here because he’s a good friend that wants to check on his partner. That’s all.
“Hey man, I brought you soup,” he shouts.
“In my bedroom,” Danny shouts back, voice cracking.
Steve puts the soup on the kitchen table and heads to Danny’s room. The sight that welcomes him when he opens the door is simply delightful. Danny’s sitting on his bed watching TV, completely enveloped in the blanket Steve made him. His hair is fluffy and free of products and his nose dusted in pink. Danny’s not cute, despite his height. He’s all impossibly wide shoulders, hairy chest and biting smile. But right now, Steve can’t think of a better word to describe him.
Danny blinks at him confusedly, and Steve realizes he’s been staring too long, standing in the doorway like an idiot. He clears his throat, “You look terrible.”
“I feel terrible, thank you,” Danny coughs.
Steve finally moves, sitting on the bed next to him, their arms separated only by the blanket. “What are we watching?” he asks, pointing at the television.
“Cheesy romcom.”
“What, being sick got you in a romantic mood? Or are you still sulking because of Melissa?”
Danny looks at him weirdly. “I broke up with her, why would I be the one sulking?”
“So you’re just in a romantic mood.”
“Yeah, can’t you feel the romance radiating from me?” Danny says, one eyebrow raised. “Oh wait, I think the only thing radiating from me right now is the virus.”
Steve snorts and leans back against the bed’s headboard. He tries to focus on the movie, but instead his mind keeps wandering back to Lou’s words. What if he’s right and Danny loves him back? He’s been weird lately, and he never fully explained why he decided to break up with Melissa after all this time. Lou’s pretty good at reading people and he wouldn’t encourage Steve to do something about his feelings if he didn’t truly believe he had a shot. And clearly Lou’s not the only one who can see it; Steve and Danny’s friendship has always been a bit atypical, if all the how long have you been married jokes are anything to go by. But is it enough? Steve’s brave, he has no problems jumping from planes and chasing terrorists all over the world, but this feels so much more difficult.
Steve looks at Danny and his heart clenches. He’s enraptured by the movie, face fixed in a scowl at the ridiculous shenanigans the writers put the poor protagonists through. Steve knows he’ll talk his ears off, complaining about it when the movie ends, and he can’t wait. He wants to listen to Danny’s rants for the rest of his life, no matter how inconsequential. He wants to be there for every important moment in his life, and for the unimportant ones too. Danny sneezes and it should be disgusting but all that Steve wants to do is hold his face in his hands and kiss him.
And maybe he’s brave enough, after all, because he does just that.
Danny freezes at first, and Steve thinks he’s just made the worst mistake of his life. But as he starts to let go, ready to profusely apologize, Danny gets a hold of his shirt and pulls him back in, opening his mouth and melting into the kiss. Danny’s lips are chapped and his stubble is scratching the palms of Steve’s hands and his chin and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
After what seems like an eternity, Danny shoves him off. “Wait, wait — what the hell is the matter with you?” he yells.
Steve looks at him confusedly.
“I’m sick, you Neanderthal animal, you can’t just go around swapping spit with — whatever, that’s not even the most important thing! Why did you kiss me?”
“Why does anyone kiss anyone, Danny?” Steve answers, annoyed. Danny being mad about the kiss was a reaction he could’ve easily predicted. But Danny kissed him back, enthusiastically. So what’s his problem?
“Well Steven, usually people kiss other people when they’re romantically or sexually interested in them, they don’t kiss their dying best friend who also happens to be a man!” Danny says, hands flying everywhere animatedly.
“Don’t be dramatic. You’re not dying, it’s just the flu.” Steve huffs, crossing his arms on his chest.
“That’s what you chose to focus on?”
“Well, Daniel, I kissed you because I’m romantically and sexually interested in you,” he finally answers, looking at Danny in the eyes, “but it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way. We can just forget about it, our friendship is more important —“
“If I don’t feel the same?” Danny gets on his knees and puts his hands on Steve’s shoulder, blanket falling off him in a pile on the bed. “I’m in love with you, you idiot. I’ve been pining like a clown for weeks! And that’s just after I realized I was actually pining, god knows for how longer I did it unconsciously”
Steve’s eyes widen in surprise. Danny’s in love with him. It feels surreal; he’s afraid he’s about to wake up from the best dream he’s ever had, but Danny’s strong grip on his shoulders and the way he’s looking at him, fond and full of love, makes it all real. And it’s exhilarating. Steve grins, elated. “It’s not a competition but I’m pretty sure I’ve been pining for longer.”
Danny shuts him up with a kiss. His mouth is warm and hungry and Steve doesn’t even care about the embarrassing sounds that escape his own lips. Danny tugs Steve closer, basically on top of him, and Steve goes willingly, straddling his lap and pressing Danny down on the bed. Now that he’s allowed, he lets his hands roam everywhere: he brushes Danny’s hair with his fingertips, runs a hand down his hard chest, squeezes his waist. Danny’s pupils are blown wide as he reverses their position and looks at him mischievously before leaving a trail of kisses down his jaw and neck.
They make out like horny teenagers for god knows how long, before Danny abruptly gets off him and says “Wait, wait.”
Steve groans, not this again.
“You said you’ve been pining longer. How much?” Danny asks.
“Really? Couldn’t this wait?” Steve asks hysterically.
“No, it couldn’t! This,” Danny waves a hand between them, “this is great, amazing, ten out of ten, we’re definitely doing it again. But I think we should talk first.”
“Alright,” Steve sighs, of course Danny wants to talk. “I don’t know exactly how much longer. Maybe months, maybe since that time you punched me in the face when we first met.”
Danny looks at him shocked, before dropping his face on his hand and whining “Oh my god, we are morons.”
Steve laughs at that. “Hey, in my defense I thought you were straight.”
Danny lowers his hands and looks at him, eyebrows furrowed. “I thought that too. About myself and you!”
So Danny’s been going through both a sexuality crisis and a oh no I’m in love with my best friend crisis in the last few weeks, no wonder he’s being weird. Maybe Steve really is the moron here.
“I’m bisexual,” Steve says, and it’s maybe the first time he says it aloud. “I’ve known since I was a teenager, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s not that I didn’t trust you, I just kept it as a secret for so long, with the Navy and everything, that I didn’t know how.”
Danny’s face softens and he nods understandingly, putting a hand on Steve’s knee to offer some comfort. “It’s fine, I know you’re allergic to sharing your feelings and this is a pretty big deal.”
Steve puts his own hand on top of Danny’s, intertwining their fingers, a little smile tugging the corner of his mouth. “And it’s not like it would’ve changed anything since it took you forty years and my unsuspecting intervention to realize you’re not straight.”
“I’ll have you know I already had my suspicions before meeting you, I just never gave it too much thought,” Danny scoffs. “But I guess I’ll have to make up for lost time,” he says with a smirk, pulling Steve down for a kiss.
“Hey,” Steve says when they separate. “I’m in love with you, too. I forgot to say it before.”
Danny looks at him with stars in his eyes. “Do you want to know exactly how long I’ve been pining for you?”
Steve raises his eyebrows, intrigued. “Of course I do.”
“Since the day you gave me the blanket,” Danny says and Steve’s eyes widen as he looks down at said blanket, and then back up at Danny.
Later Steve will have to thank the stress management consultant for this, but for now he’s too busy making up for lost time, as Danny put it.
***
Two days later they’re both laying on Danny’s bed under the blanket, sick with the worst flu Steve’s had in decades. His head is resting on Danny’s shoulder and he’s running a hand under his shirt. The hair on Danny’s chest and belly is thick and soft, and Steve’s fever is clearly making him delirious because he’s thinking about how cool it’d be if he could make yarn out of it.
“That’s crazy, I usually never get sick,” he croaks out, throat sore and aching.
“That’s what you get for sticking your tongue down a sick person’s throat,” Danny replies, smoothing a hand over the short hair at the back of Steve’s head.
Steve looks up to him with fake annoyance. “I don’t remember you complaining.”
“I did complain, that was a thing that very much happened.”
“Yes, and then you proceeded to shove your tongue down my throat.”
“I did that too,” Danny concedes and leans down to kiss him. It’s slow and sweet and it makes Steve momentarily forget about his runny nose and pounding headache.
“I guess having the flu is a fair price to pay for getting closer to you,” he says when they separate.
“Ha.” Danny snorts at the choice of words. “Closer, is that what we are now?”
“Yes, one could even say… tight-knit.” Steve says, wiggling his eyebrows.
Danny wants to push him out of the bed so badly, but instead he rolls his eyes and pulls him back for another kiss.