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If there’s one thing Kono has learned in her time working with Five-0, it’s when to keep her mouth shut.
Her dad (and Chin, come to think of it) would say it’s about time she learned that lesson, as she’d certainly never known when to keep quiet as a kid, least of all when it meant getting in trouble. But she’d always punched better than half the boys in her class, so she’d never much minded.
But she’s grateful, this holiday season, that she’s finally mastered the art of knowing when to keep her lips sealed.
It’s Danny who starts it, though she doesn’t know it at the time. She’d roped him into some early holiday shopping, mostly because she learned a couple years ago that if she plies him with a caffeinated holiday beverage with extra sugar and sets him loose in the shopping center, he’s the best holiday entertainment for the price on the island.
That special brand of Danny sass, amped by the too-early and too-loud Christmas tunes (of which there are too few, and so they repeat too frequently), meets the saccharine displays of decoration and the pointless and unnecessary gifts (clearly created for the express and sole purpose of gifting to someone you hardly know and care little for), creating anti-festive sparks of dry wit and just-dark-enough humor that feels more like the holidays to her than all the multi-colored tinsel on the obviously fake tree next to the fountain at the center of the food court.
They sip their peppermint mochas and stroll, arm in arm, past the various shops, quietly commentating on this year's trends, gently poking fun at shoppers laden awkwardly with packages, but stopping to help when bags get dropped. (As if that makes up for it.)
Then that bizarre and fleeting pop-up, the calendar shop, catches Danny’s critical gaze.
“Does anyone even use calendars anymore?” He asks, pulling her closer to inspect the outdated (pun intended) offerings.
“Some of the folks on the force do,” she points out. Which Danny well knows, having himself posed for the police fundraiser back home.
“Yeah but that’s for…” he gives a little wiggle, as if to suggest… well, she’s not really sure what he’s suggesting, to be honest.
“For what, Danny?” She grins into her mocha, eager to see if he’ll say it out loud.
“You know,” he says, wiggling more exaggeratedly.
“Dance?” She suggests, knowing full well that’s not what he means at all.
“No, you dolt.” He rolls his eyes at her. “You know….” And he rolls his hips in a truly indecent manner, which draws the attention of another patron browsing calendars with pictures of cottages and gardens and kittens. They scoff and move further into the kitchen themes.
“Exercise?” Kono suggests, gesturing to a display of ballet, yoga, and Pilates themed calendars.
Danny briefly considers the lithe forms in tight clothing, but returns swiftly to his point. “Close but more obvious,” he whispers, and spins, taking in the full array of the store, before finding what he’s looking for, and pulling her by the hand towards a rack of calendars featuring men of various professions with one thing in common—the absence of shirts.
“Ahhh,” she replies, as though she’s been enlightened. “Firemen without shirts, cowboys without shirts, doctors without shirts, chefs without shirts…” she names the offerings down the top row. “Oh now this is cute,” she says, picking up a copy of Hot Men with Cats.
“Nah,” Danny says, stepping closer to the same shelf. “This is more like it,” he says, wagging Sexy Men with Dogs under her nose. “Now we’re talking,” and he flips the calendar over to see the monthly offerings.
“June is hot,” Kono says, pointing to a man who looks suspiciously like Adam.
“Uh-huh,” Danny agrees absently. His attention has clearly been pulled to December, who Kono sees bears a striking resemblance to their boss. Alongside a dog not entirely unlike Eddie.
“I mean, we could totally make money off the Boss Man if we could get him to do that,” she says, pulling the calendar closer.
“Yeah,” Danny agrees, still that far-away tone to his voice.
“You okay there?” She asks, elbowing him in the side because honestly he deserves it, if the fact that his partner is freaking hot is only just now occurring to him.
“Yup,” Danny says, snapping out of it. “I’m gonna get him this.”
“Wait, you’re serious?”
“Yeah we said gag gifts only, this year, so it’s perfect.”
Kono manages not to point out the obvious—that it’s not really a gag gift so much as a glaringly obvious “tell.” Her lips are sealed on that front.
Danny needs to figure it out on his own.
It’s only the next weekend, and she ends up at the mall again, this time with Steve, by his request.
“Thanks for agreeing to help me,” he says when they meet up in front of the mall entrance. “I gotta get some gifts, and I can’t shop with Danny.”
Well that’s intriguing, and she can’t not ask. “Why’s that?” She tries for casual, and Danny’d totally call her out for missing the mark, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice. Mostly because she’s steered them, by force of habit, to the coffee shop, and Steve is more than a little distracted by someone behind the counter.
“Great,” he mutters just slightly under his breath. “He’s working.” The “he” is decidedly in italics, and she would say it’s dripping with disdain, if that didn’t seem impossible for Steve—that’s more Danny’s territory, in her book.
Clearly there’s a story here.
A freaking gorgeous story, it turns out, as they get to the front of the line, and an enormous and utterly beautiful barista greets Steve with a million watt smile.
“Where’s your better half?” The guy asks.
Steve mutters something in reply, but Kono misses it, because she’s too busy thinking about how the guy could definitely be Mr. December for the Hot Baristas calendar, if they wanted to do one.
Kono orders something less sweet and more caffeinated than what she’d gotten with Danny. This trip clearly has vastly different parameters than her previous visit, and she needs to be prepared.
“What do you have against that guy?” She asks after they’ve cleared plausible audible range. “He seemed really sweet.”
“Oh, he’s sweet alright,” Steve responds, not sounding at all his usual self.
She must give him some sort of judgmental look. Chin says she does that a lot, though she swears she doesn’t mean to.
“He’s very flirtatious,” Steve says, deflating slightly. It’s almost as if he senses he’s not coming out of this looking super mature.
“I didn’t get that sense,” she says, thinking back, trying—and failing—to see it.
“Not with me,” Steve adds. And maybe she’s embellishing, but it sure seems like he cringes: “With Danny.”
Her reflexes are damn fast. They have to be, in their line of work, but they serve her just as well here, dodging bullets of another kind, because she manages to bite her lips together before she can grin knowingly and say the “Ahhhhh” that slams into her brain so hard she physically has to keep herself from falling over.
Taking a sip of her coffee (and pretending it’s too hot) covers for her inability to come up with a reasonable response to that. You know, one that doesn’t involve snacking him up the side of the head and asking “And why do you think that bothers you so much, you absolute fool?”
She also definitely doesn’t point out that if Steve flirted with Danny, he’d do a lot more than just flirt back.
“It just doesn’t seem professional,” Steve finishes, but he’s utterly deflated by this point, which doesn’t matter because he sees something in a window that evidently matches what Mary told him Joanie wants, so the shopping begins in earnest.
Kono does her best to be genuinely helpful, avoiding the sass that springs so easily to mind, with the recent rounds she’d done with Danny still fresh on her lips. She thinks she gets why Steve won’t shop with Danny, though. It’s like he learned shopping from his grandmother—which to be fair he probably did. Well, or Aunt Deb at least.
Danny adores Steve, cares for him deeply, no one who knows either of them could doubt that for a moment. But he can be ruthless with the sass even then. Maybe even more so. And Steve’s got a tough exterior, but his inside is unbelievably soft. It makes perfect sense to her that he’d rather avoid being made fun of while doing his Christmas shopping. Although why she got chosen to be his companion, and not her cousin or Lou, she’s not yet certain.
One thing she’ll grant Steve, he’s just as efficient at shopping as he is everything else he does. They’ve not even finished their drinks and she’s holding half a dozen different bags while he checks his list, when she notices they’re in front of the calendar store.
She idly looks at the window display (travel themed calendars—one for China, one Japan, one Australia, as well as European castles, Scandinavian fjords, and Brazilian beaches) while Steve puts his phone away, and moves to take some of the bags back from her. Once he’s got the bags arranged, he notices what she’s looking at.
“Oh, this is perfect,” he says, his voice somewhere between relieved and amused. “I should get Danny a calendar, since he doesn’t understand how to use his phone’s calendar.”
She chokes on her drink.
“You okay there?” He asks, momentarily concerned, but he must realize she’s laughing. “Well, we said we’d do gag gifts, so this will work for that.”
And he shrugs, not thinking more of her reaction, and it gives her enough time to try to pull herself together. She may not think either of them is being smart about this, but she’s told herself she won’t play sides. And that means not giving Danny’s gift away. So she swallows a big gulp of her no longer hot drink, and follows him inside.
They walk through the store, Steve considering and then dismissing fourteen different Italy, and Italian food and wine, and Roman ruins, and Tuscan countryside calendars, before they make it to Danny’s preferred section of the store.
She sees it before he does. Next to Shirtless Pizza Delivery Guys:
Hot Men with Coffee.
She averts her eyes, as if that’ll help.
Steve’s laugh is sharp. She’s pretty sure she recognizes the tone. Sharp, as in jagged, as in something that’s been broken. (As in the poor man’s damn heart.) And she doesn’t just mean the umpteen times Danny’s gotten back with Rachel, or the times she knows Steve had been this close to admitting how he feels, only for Danny to bring some pretty girl to a team function.
He may give as good as Danny does sometimes. But unlike his partner, for whom the mocking and the teasing is done in love and affection (and taken as the same), Steve, she’s pretty sure, is a little bit closer in character to her sweet-hearted cousin. Yes, Steve teases Danny. But Kono’s pretty damn sure it’s more out of defense, or hurt pride, than from love.
So when Steve unhesitatingly picks what may as well be the “hot barista” calendar and walks—no, strides—to the counter with it, she knows why it’s her, and not Chin or Lou with him. Because what neither of them would hesitate to point out to him, is that he’s playing a dangerous game.
It’s one thing to give a gag gift.
It’s another entirely when it’s utterly, painfully, genuine.
She finds a Twelve Months of Pizza calendar on her way following him to pay, but it’s like he doesn’t even see it.
Sighing, she realizes she’s going to have to take matters into her own hands. Mouth shut, obviously. But actions can be just as powerful as words.
Sometimes even more so.
Turns out, Danny at least makes it a little easy on her.
He invites her over to help try out his new outdoor pizza oven (and a new dough recipe), and she definitely doesn’t ask why he’s asked her, and not Steve. But she brings beers, so if the query slips out later because of drink, well, it won’t really be her fault. Right?
The calendar is sitting on the console table by the door, so she sees it when she tosses her keys down and slips her shoes off.
“Second guessing the calendar?” She asks, handing Danny the six pack, but keeping one for herself as he takes it. And okay that’s not “mouth shut,” but it’s literally sitting right there.
“Huh? Oh, no, not at all,” Danny says, and she can’t quite decide if she thinks he’s left it there so Steve’ll see it if he comes to pick Danny up for a case, or if he genuinely hadn’t thought that possibility through. It’s sometimes hard to tell with him. Stuff he does that seems like it’s intentional, to goad Steve, turns out to be simple absent-mindedness. But at the same time, he has been known to plant things for Steve to “find,” when it suits him.
Like pamphlets for the new meditation school that’s run by a stunningly gorgeous woman who just happens to look a lot like Catherine.
That one had been risky, she thought, because while she agrees that tempting a man, who clearly needs to learn to connect with his zen, with a beautiful instructor is a cool plan, the risk to his heart from the re-awakening of wounds left on his soul by Cath seems, at the very least, unwise.
Unless that had been part of the plan—which, knowing Danny, isn’t out of the question. The whole team knows it, and half the baddies on the island do as well: one sure way to get Steve McGarrett to lash out is to poke at his wounds.
What Danny knows, and Kono as well, is that if it’s Danny doing the wound-prodding, Steve might actually admit he has a problem, and he might, just might, do something about it.
So it’s not an outrageous notion, that Danny might figure taunting Steve with the hot dog men (that sounds wrong but you know what she means) will—what, get him to admit that he’s into Danny?
This is getting very convoluted.
Steve’s choice, on the other hand, is a lot more obvious. “Here Danny, I know you like sexy baristas.”
The “wish you liked me instead” is, of course, very heavily implied, as everyone but Steve will see, immediately.
What’s just as obvious (to Kono at least), is that if Steve would get his head out of his ass for five seconds, he’d realize that the only hot guy Danny wants bringing him coffee half naked is Steve himself.
But that would just be too simple now, wouldn’t it.
Fortunately, the beer kicks in, and Danny’s in a fun mood—enjoying exploring pizza possibilities, rather than lecturing her on the “one right pizza.”
And yeah maybe she should be a little suspicious about that, because it’s not his usual game, but she’s having too much fun. They’ve had a rough couple weeks, the lead up to the holidays bringing out the worst in people, as it typically does.
And maybe Steve’s latest round of “no really, let me go in without back up and then let me hurl myself off this tall wall, I’m sure it’ll be fine” has meant Danny needs a break from the guy so he doesn’t kill him for nearly getting himself killed …Kono counts silently on her fingers… three times this week. At least.
Whatever his reason or reasons, she’s happy to be Danny’s pizza guinea pig instead of Steve, and happy to slice peppers, mushrooms, and onions, while he cooks up some Italian sausage she’s pretty sure he made from scratch.
She’s never really gotten the whole “cooking as stress relief” thing. If she’s frazzled and exhausted from work, the last thing she needs is to be expected to manage hot pans and sharp knives.
It’s a substantial part of why she’s enjoying this blossoming thing with Adam as much as she is. There’s something so utterly comforting about turning up on his doorstep after a long hard day, battered and bloody, and being ushered into a hot bath, and given a sushi style menu to select from, then brought a huge glass of she-doesn’t-want-to-think-about-how-expensive wine, and then to emerge, wrap herself in fluffy white Turkish cotton, slide her aching feet into memory foam slippers, and collapse on the plush (also white) sofa, where she’ll be plied with more wine, and tempura, and katsu, and whatever else her heart desires.
It’s… heaven.
But it’s also sometimes a bit too rich for her surfer-girl heart. Sometimes she needs this: bare feet and blue jeans, on Danny’s simple wooden deck, his boy-next-door vibe meshing with her tomboy spirit, the silence just as easy as the banter. And if she drinks too much, she can enjoy Grace’s apple blossom shampoo in the shower, and curl up on purple unicorn sheets, and fall asleep to the sounds of Danny washing up in the kitchen.
She can be both.
Just like she can cook Chin’s favorite dumplings and iron his shirts when he’s had a rough day missing Malia and just needs to wallow, or make a stir fry for herself on a Tuesday night while she listens to her favorite audiobook for the fifth time.
She’s never understood this notion that “hot girls can’t be” this, or “real women don’t do” that. She’s a contradiction, she always has been, and she’s never bothered to feel uncomfortable with that.
They’re on their third beers each by the time Danny’s gently coaxing the first of the pizzas out of the oven (she’s not counting the actual first pizza which turned upside down and burnt), so maybe that’s part of why it’s so dang good. Or maybe it’s that fresh-air effect that makes food better. Or maybe Danny’s just that talented a chef. Probably it’s a little bit of “all of the above,” and probably it’s partly how much she adores the cute blond dummy.
“Went shopping with Steve last Friday,” she lets slip, once pizza number two is safely in the oven and they’ve moved on to wine. Wine feels more appropriate for confidences and confessions than beer, anyway.
“Oh yeah?” Danny asks, his bare feet sliding out as he relaxes back in his deck chair. He’s playing his Jersey mix on the outdoor speaker, but it’s turned down low enough she’s not even really sure what the song is til the chorus. You can’t start a fire, You can’t start a fire without a spark, This gun’s for hire, Even if we’re just dancin’ in the dark. Fitting, really.
“He had a long list, including some people I’ve never even heard of.”
Danny chuckles—not scoffs, she notes, as she might have expected. Maybe that’s the pizza talking, or maybe the beer. Or the wine. “Yeah, he buys gifts for all Deb’s friends, because they helped raise Mary, and he feels he owes them. Part of him still thinks he should have raised her himself.”
“Instead of the Navy?” She asks, curious. It’s the first she’s ever heard of it, and it feels massively insightful.
“Yeah. Joe wouldn’t let him, and his dad wouldn’t. But I think it’s what he wishes he’d done. He thinks they’d both be less broken if they’d stayed together.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“God, that must be….” She stops herself. She knows not everyone gets her and Chin’s dedication to each other, and they’re just cousins—though she probably does treat him more like an older brother. She’s definitely little sis in his eyes.
Danny hears her unspoken words, because of course he does. “Yeah,” he repeats, and takes another drink of wine. “So, you got to experience the many joys of McGarrett Christmas Shopping, huh?”
“Yeah it was more like an op than shopping, I coulda had two coffees.”
He laughs. “Hope you had good shoes,” he says, tilting his glass at her. “Thanks for taking one for the team.”
Her eyes narrow, as she contemplates which path to follow, but her curiosity is too strong, the wine guiding her along. “I met your favorite barista,” she says. “Hadn’t seen him before.”
“Steve must’ve loved that,” he says, but his tone is soft and warm.
“He didn’t seem overly fond, no,” she hazards.
Danny grins at her. “He thinks I like to flirt with Tyree,” he says, swirling his glass precariously.
“Don’t you? He’s gorgeous.”
“You’d have better luck with him than I would,” Danny says, eyes piercing.
She gets his point. “He’s straight?”
“Yup. But don’t tell Steve, it’s too much fun.”
“Danny….” But she can’t say it.
“I know, I know, it’s mean, but it was Tyree’s idea. He’s the set designer for the drama club at Grace’s school, and Steve helped out one time, and did that stupid ‘guys in theater must be gay’ assumption thing, and Tyree just went with it to fuck with him.”
“Which meant him flirting with you?”
“Well yeah because it wouldn’t be cool if he flirted with someone who didn’t know it was a joke.”
“Yeah, that’s fair.” She pauses. “Is that all there is to it?” Her words are gentle. She won’t come right out and say it, but she sure would like if Danny’d see maybe it’s not … kind. Or wise.
But that would mean him realizing how Steve feels. Or how Danny himself does. Or ideally both.
He squints at her as if he’s trying to work something out. She’s not sure if he does.
“Steve can take it,” Danny evidently decides, and gets up to check on the pizza.
She sighs, refills her glass and his, and gets her plate ready for round two.
It’s midway through the next week when she tries to get Chin on her side, with the whole “Steve and Danny are headed for an implosion” thing.
“They’re grown men, coz, they can figure this out on their own.”
“Are they though?”
He laughs, and seals another dumpling for the steamer. Once it’s safely tucked away with the others, his face shifts gears, and her heart thuds. Not only does Chin wear his heart on his sleeve, he telegraphs his position with his changes in facial expressions.
“Nothing good comes of interfering, Kono. I thought you’d finally learned that.”
She looks down at the wrapper in her hand, dollop of filling perfectly in the middle. Prodding it with a finger, she pouts. “If Steve gives Danny the coffee calendar, but Danny doesn’t get that Steve’s not actually joking….” She trails off because she’s not honestly sure what will happen. But she’s damn sure it won’t be fun to watch. And she’s also sure she’s the one that’ll get stuck listening to the fall out. On both their sides.
Chin takes the in-progress dumpling from her before she can mangle it further. “You can’t keep them from hurting each other,” he says softly.
And maybe he doesn’t add “like you couldn’t stop Malia and me from hurting each other,” but she knows it’s what he means. And maybe that is why it matters so much. Maybe she’s still traumatized from the last perfect-for-each-other pair she watched walk away from each other. Maybe it’s them she really wants to fix. Or maybe it’s just she remembers what that was like, and her heart can’t stand the thought of going through it again.
“Can’t I? Shouldn’t I at least try?” She looks at him, across the flour-sprinkled kitchen island, and she doesn’t add “shouldn’t I have tried with you and Malia?” but she sees he hears it anyway.
Handing her another dumpling to seal, Chin sighs. “Sometimes you just have to wait and help pick up the pieces after.”
And because that’s exactly what they’re doing, with their little dumpling ritual, she smiles and lets it go. For now. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t keep thinking about it.
A few nights later she’s cozy on Adam’s sofa, glass of white in one hand, platter of Chef Morimoto’s finest on the table beside her, feet being rubbed by a very solicitous man, who seems genuinely interested in her dissection of the day’s chaos, down to the tension building between her boss and their feisty blond coworker.
“Well it sounds like it’s heading to a breaking point,” he says, after a long and thoughtful sip of his wine. “It would be a shame if it happened at the holidays.”
“Exactly!” She replies, feeling vindicated that someone gets it. “They’re gonna blow up, and it’s so much worse at Christmas anyway. Steve’s got trauma there, and Danny’s not exactly free from the holiday grinchness.”
There’s a soft little smile creeping across Adam’s face, as he takes another sip. “You want some help prodding them before it gets to that point,” he says, not at all casually. “Not super overtly, of course, just… subtly enough they start to get it.”
“You offering to help?” She asks, setting her wine glass down.
Adam’s eyes reflect the candlelight behind her, making it look like they’re actually twinkling with playful mischief. “We’d be doing them a favor, for Christmas. Helping them get what we have.”
“That’s all I want,” she agrees.
They’ve been keeping this thing between them pretty close to the chest. Danny, she’s pretty sure, suspects. But it’s possible Steve hasn’t entirely made up his mind about Adam. He had given her the green light, from a purely work related conflict of interest perspective, honestly before she was even certain she wanted it. But there’s a difference between official permission and the endorsement of a close friend, of ohana. Speaking of, she’s pretty sure Chin won’t ever be truly happy about it (barring wildly implausible actions involving rings and vows and things Kono’s never imagined for herself if she’s honest). But that’s that whole “overprotective big brother” thing and she gets it.
And Danny’s only just recently pointed out that fake flirting is only cool if both people are in on it.
But maybe there’s a case to be made for “if it’s for the good of the person being faked out.”
“I have an idea,” she says, and pours them both more wine.
It’s not like they have an office Christmas party.
There’s just the four of them, and that would be weird. But that’s absolutely the vibe they need for her plan to work.
And when she suggests they all get together at a more-touristy-than-they-usually-hang-out-at spot that has dancing and completely over the top fruity drinks with umbrellas and absolutely artificially colored liquors, no one bats an eye.
But when she adds “Bring a date if you like,” three sets of eyebrows go up. Possibly for unrelated reasons.
She’s counting on the three (or at least two) of them not knowing how serious she and Adam have gotten. Honestly she’d surprised herself with it once she paused to think about it. But they don’t know it. So if he shows up and gets a little drunk and seems to be extra flirtatious, and not just with her, well. Maybe that’ll get some pennies to drop.
So yeah she’s also counting on Boss Man being the standup gentleman she knows he is.
Chin narrows his eyes at her, over his overly complicated drink, umbrella with a cherry on the end nearly poking him in the eye, which to be fair he would kind of deserve.
“What?” She hisses under her breath, not wanting to draw attention away from the frankly compelling scene playing out before them: Steve and Adam on the dance floor, meant to be a game of chicken, but Steve has surprised her and seems to genuinely be enjoying himself, meeting and matching every move of Adam’s. Danny’s getting more drinks, in full view of the dance floor, and he’s clearly amused by the view.
So okay, her plan hasn’t exactly gone as she’d imagined.
Her cousin starts to say something, notices the cherry in his view, pulls it out of the glass and sets it on the table. “If you think I haven’t noticed you’re in love, you don’t think very highly of my observational skills, coz.” And he takes a long drink.
Her mouth, which had fallen open on his use of the “L” word, because it feels like he may as well have punched her in the gut, closes sharply.
His drink hits the table harder than it should when he sets it back down. Or at least that’s how it seems, from the reverberation she feels through her arms (which still rest on the table as she’d been leaning forward to get a better view of Danny at the bar to see his reaction).
“Oh, no.” Chin says, smile forming on his drink-stained lips. “You really didn’t know?”
Her head is buzzing, the room’s gone swirly. Shaking her head to clear it, she realizes it looks like she’s saying “no,” which to be fair….
“I don’t really…”
“Do that?” He finishes for her.
“Yeah,” she exhales, eyes being drawn to the absolutely gorgeous man in white, who happens to look over at her at just that moment, and ohh no.
Adam’s face lights up. And it’s like he knows. Like he’s been waiting. Oh god he’s been waiting. Of course he has. How is she possibly this dumb? Is she really this dumb? How could she not have known?
And she senses her cousin is chuckling at her. She doesn’t even have to look. She does notice that he reaches his hand across the table towards hers.
“Hey, hey,” he says softly. Or, it sounds soft in the cacophony of the bar. “I should have known you hadn’t realized yet, Kono, I’m sorry.” He’s still smiling, but he’s also patently concerned. (Over-protective and all.)
Danny heads back to the table at that point. Utterly unmoved by their failed display. “Hey, she finally figure it out?” She hears him asking Chin, as he slides close to her, arm tugging her into a hug. “Good for you, Kono, we’ve all been waiting for the penny to drop,” and she gapes at him. Because helloooo, that’s her line? What the fuck.
Her silence evidently speaks volumes because when she doesn’t actually answer him, and Chin only nods, Danny sighs. “Now if only that big lug out there on the dance floor would realize.”
And maybe it’s the lack of oxygen in her blood at this point, maybe it’s her own realization, maybe it’s the fruity booze she’s consumed tonight, but this whole “lips closed” thing just isn’t working for her dammit, and she turns toward him, wrenching his arm from her shoulder with her abruptness.
“Realize what Danny? Huh? What is it you want him to realize?”
“Easy Kono,” Chin warns, but she won’t hear it. Can’t hear it. Not now.
“It’s okay, Chin,” Danny says. “Realize he’s the only one for me, I guess,” Danny says.
She actually laughs. Sharp and bright and far too loud.
He smirks at her and god it’s Steve’s smirk, almost exactly. “Yeah okay I’ve been a dick about it. But he deserves it.”
“Does he?” She presses, leaning precariously into him. “Why does he? You think this is easy for him? You think he’s not petrified that the minute he lets go of his heart he’s utterly lost control?”
Her hand flies to her lips the second the words are out. Fuck fuck fuck this is why she keeps her lips shut. Dammit.
But Danny just smiles. “You realize you’re talking about yourself, right? I mean, yeah. Of course all that’s true of Steve as well, but that’s why I won’t push him.”
She starts to object because the entire problem is Danny does push Steve. Just…
“Yeah yeah okay, I get it. I’ve been a real dick to him. I never said I wasn’t.”
“But don’t you want him to—” she cuts herself off abruptly, because there’s no real way to finish that sentence.
“Of course I do. But I won’t force him into anything he’s not ready for.”
And she almost could even say she hears it click.
“How come none of you told me you knew about me and Adam?”
Danny nods. “Exactly.”
She sighs. But doesn’t have time to say anything else, because it’s then that Steve comes back to the table. Almost like he’s been summoned.
Or, sent.
She sees Adam trailing in Steve’s footsteps.
“Trade ya,” Steve says in Kono’s ear, and his tone has that focused, determined ring to it, that ordinarily spells chaos in the field.
“Oh, okay,” she stammers, and finds herself tugged to standing by Adam, and as she’s being dragged to the dance floor she looks back and watches Steve insert himself directly in her place, wrapping Danny’s arm around his own shoulders, and yeah it’s not like that’s not how they ordinarily sit, but she knows that tone and she knows too that smug expression, and she gets the sense that everything is about to change.
Speaking of.
Adam’s not holding her close and she feels exposed. “I, uh.” She states, eloquently. “Yeah, so, um.” She tries again. “Hi,” she whispers. Dangit this guy is so beautiful it’s really damn distracting.
“Hi…” Adam prompts. He’s grinning and he’s amused, but he’s patient, oh god he’s so patient.
“So, um, like, I just realized I’m in love with you.”
His smile grows bigger, or it would if he’d let it, but he’s biting his lips and fuck if that doesn’t just make her want to kiss him more. “I’m in love with you too,” he says, probably louder than necessary.
“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner, I just—ohhh god is that why you agreed to this?”
He laughs. “Actually no, but I did wonder if it wouldn’t…”
“Get me to see it too?” She asks.
“Something like that,” he says, to her lips, which how did that happen, how’d they get so close? But it’s probably because she really can’t resist now, and has to put her lips to better use, as someone might say (it’s her, she’s the one who would say it).
It’s a couple days after Christmas, after the family gatherings are over, and Danny’s invited Kono and Adam to his place for pizzas.
Steve’s already there by the time she and Adam show up, and she’s not sure but it feels almost like they interrupt something.
Danny’s practice pizza run has clearly paid off, because these pizzas are all practically perfect. Steve doesn’t even tease Danny about no pineapple, but he does comment on the wide variety of toppings. But like in a complimentary way. Honestly it’s a little too sweet. Not disingenuine. Just, maybe smitten.
It takes her a couple rounds of pizza and a few beers before she places it: It’s like he’s finally feeling he can just be honest. Doesn’t have to hide his feelings underneath layers of bravado and banter. And okay we’re talking about pizza toppings. But it feels like a sign. She tries not to get too hopeful. But clearly something has shifted. At least for Steve.
It’s not till it’s time for dessert that it becomes obvious that something major is about to change.
Danny’s gone to the kitchen to grab dessert. And he’s refused offers of help.
“So how’d he like the calendar?” Kono asks Steve, once Danny’s safely inside and out of earshot.
“Huh? Oh yeah, um, he thought it was funny I guess? I don’t know. It wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.” He’s distracted, it seems, pre-occupied maybe. Maybe it’s just because he watched Danny’s ass as he walked away.
Adam meets her gaze and shrugs.
She wants so badly to ask Steve what the hell reaction he expected, but Adam, who knows full well what the calendar was of, asks Steve what kind of calendar it was, and Steve’s awkward explanation of half naked men serving coffee means all Kono’s energy goes into not laughing. Which means she doesn’t see it coming.
Although in retrospect she absolutely should have.
“Anyone want coffee?” They hear from the doorway.
And they all turn to see that Danny has come back out to the deck, a single mug of coffee in his hands. But more significantly, wearing just his jeans. His shirt noticeably absent—which, speaking of, was too tight anyway, geez that had been obvious enough. (Clearly not as obvious as Danny felt he needed to be.)
So much for not pushing. Although, she can’t exactly blame him.
Steve is silenced. But it’s the loudest silence she’s ever heard.
“I think that’s our cue,” Adam grabs her by the hand and leads her to the door inside. “Thanks for a wonderful meal, Danny!” He calls, as they rush into the house and towards the front door.
She catches one glimpse behind them, before the patio door shuts, of Steve, who has stood up, taking the coffee from Danny’s hand, and setting it carefully down on the table.
“Ungh! How do we know they won’t mess it up?” She pouts as Adam shoves her out the front door.
“Ohh, I think we can trust them to take things from here.”