Work Text:
April 5, 2010:
The first beer goes down fairly quickly. The second goes faster. By the seventh, the blond man's hands can't hold the bottles right.
Steve wonders who this poor sap is and how his story goes. Yet, he keeps giving him more at each command. After all, that is the job of a good bartender.
"Yur staring...What's up? Gotta crush on me?"
The short guy's tone implies heavy sarcasm, but Steve can't help but to smile. If this goes anywhere, he knows that they'd be inseparable.
"Nah, I'm just wondering what you're doing here? Business deal gone bad?"
His hand waves, wrong answer.
"Hmmm, bad date?"
The man laughs a hearty laugh. Steve is glad that this guy doesn't have the aura of a violent drunk.
"Ya' know, I wish it was a bad date...Ex-wife...She's filing for full custody o' my kid...Just because I moved here..."
Damn this guy has it hard.
"I'm a cop...Detective Danny Williams...Another, please...Keep 'em comin'..."
Steve passes off another beer to the man - Danny - and smiles pitifully.
"This one's...nah, you only need to pay for three. Rest are on the house, Danny."
Danny smirks, miserable emotions running across his face.
"Thanks, man...Most anyone's done fer me here. Everyone else shrugs me off. Doesn't give two shits...Then they call me that word....Howdy? Somethin' like that...What the hell does that even mean?!"
Steve looks down and gets himself a beer.
"Haole. It means outsider. If others are shrugging you off while calling you that, not a good sign. It's pretty much their way of saying you're not welcome."
He holds out his beer and gets a closer look at Danny, dark circles under his red eyes. He likely doesn't get much sleep.
"You toastin' to somethin'? Because if you are, I'd like to know what I'm toastin' to."
His firm smile feeds Steve's obvious affections for the guy.
"To a new friendship. I'm Steve, and I own this bar. We're gonna get along great!"
Danny rashly taps his bottle to Steve's but loses his grip on the bottle. It falls on the counter with a crash, glass shattering, beer spilling all over his own shirt.
"Fuckin' hell! What am I supposed to do now?! I can't go back to the hotel like this..."
Steve quickly tosses a towel and gathers his cleaning supplies.
"You don't have a place yet? That's it, you're going back to my place. It's closing time anyways, so you won't have to wait much."
Danny raises his eyebrows, face becoming more irritated than before.
"What the hell?! Ya' don't just invite someone back to your place on the first day ya' know them!! That's how people get killed!!!"
Danny towel-dries himself off as Steve quickly cleans up the mess.
"Look, you have no place to go, you're drunk out of your mind, I have a house with nobody else staying in it. It's a simple fix. Plus, I have some spare clothes you can change into while I get your clothes washed up."
Danny holds one finger up, stopping him.
"Okay, say I do go to yer house. I'm not sleepin' with yer hot ass, if that's what you're after. I'm not that kinda' guy."
Steve chuckles, knowing that this is probably the alcohol talking.
"Danny, please, I'm not trying to sleep with you. I just don't see any sense in sending you to a place that reminds you that you have nobody on your side."
He grabs the keys and flings Danny's arm over his shoulder, helping the man hobble out.
"Fine...Just get me some new clothes..."
Once in the car, Danny loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt.
"Too sticky for you?"
Danny smirks once more, face showing pure sarcasm as he shrugs off his shirt.
"You'd like me to be sticky, wouldn't you?"
Steve can't contain his laughter any longer.
Danny Williams, huh. What an interesting guy.