Work Text:
They don’t talk about it.
Love is not for men like them.
Steve learned this early. In Naval Intelligence, he operated in the shadows. When he had the opportunity to hook up with other sailors, he did it quickly and quietly, then moved on to the next assignment. He never lingered. It was too dangerous.
Danny learned it differently but all the same. Straight from high school locker rooms to the Army. Four years at Berkeley on the GI Bill then into the policy academy. No matter where he goes, it sounds like the precinct break room. The way even his friends talk - the jokes, the slurs - makes it clear love isn’t in the cards for him.
They’ve done the quiet calculations about risk and reputation. Intimacy is for people who aren’t like them.
They’ve learned to keep their heads down and do the job. They make meaning out of service, not companionship. When they first meet, there’s already a framework in place. These are two men who have chosen purpose instead of intimacy.
They ignore the feelings that claw at them late at night. When the cases wear them thin.
Steve pretends his feelings are contained but he cannot stop noticing Danny Williams. He’s quick to answer Steve. He stays late. He finds leads first. When he asks questions, they’re good ones. He’s been the head of Five-O since 1959 and this is his best hire yet.
There’s a self-assurance and an ambition that Steve recognizes immediately. He likes Danny so much that when he comes in late at night with a hunch, sits on his desk, and lights up a cigarette, Steve lets him smoke it.
Danny can’t stop noticing Steve either. How he picks his way through a crime scene. How he pressures a suspect, looming over them. That he demands the best from his detectives.
Danny finds himself wanting to impress Steve. He’s not a rookie desperate to prove himself anymore, he’s a fifth-year detective. And yet, when Steve congratulates him on breaking a case open, Danny feels a warmth bloom in his chest.
They both chalk this up to competence. They’re not attracted to each other, they’re just impressed by each other. Attraction would be a want, and for them, wanting is dangerous.
As they continue to work together, the proximity wears away at their traditional defenses. One long night together in a car during a stakeout, they each find themselves stealing glimpses of the other when they’re sure the other isn’t looking. At one point, Danny falls asleep, and instead of waking him up, Steve just watches his chest rise and fall.
One night, Danny stays late to finish a report. Steve’s still in his office. Danny doesn’t realize until Steve fills his doorway, jacket off, tie loosened, sleeves rolled to his forearms.
“You’re still here,” Steve says.
Danny shrugs. “You’re still here.”
Steve sheepishly grins.
There’s a pause. It’s not uncomfortable, but it makes Danny look up.
Steve is watching Danny with an expression that Danny would characterize on anyone else as…want. He gulps.
“You don’t have to stay late to impress me.”
Danny huffs. “I’m not trying to impress you. I’m doing my job.”
Something shifts in the air. The shielding comes up.
“Go home Danno. Get some sleep.”
He leaves before Danny can answer.
Danny stares at the empty doorway. Something about that moment lingers in his mind for days.
Neither of them intends for anything to happen.
That’s the truth.
Both of them have carefully constructed lives around distance. For Steve, solitude is sacred. Up at dawn to run. Sailing on days off.
For Danny, it’s a little different. He still bowls with his buddies from HPD and he surfs with the guys he grew up with. He wants to seem normal.
They both occasionally go on dates with women, but the relationships never last long because they lose interest faster than they should. Work always comes first.
Everything is controlled.
Then little cracks start appearing in their facades.
Steve invites Danny to the range one afternoon, “to work on his form.” Danny’s an excellent marksman, so he’s a little skeptical of what Steve can teach him, but he goes anyway.
Steve’s corrections involve a lot of physical adjustment. His hands on Danny’s shoulders, urging him to relax. A hand along his waist as Steve tilts him slightly more forward. A palm on Danny’s right wrist to steady him.
Steve stands right behind him, voice low near his ear, until Danny slides his hearing protection back on.
Danny’s concentration dissolves. Steve feels it too. The static in the air. The electricity between them. The heat of another body standing so close.
But neither man acknowledges it.
Steve steps away briskly and Danny fires.
“Better”, says Steve.
Danny clears his throat. “Yeah.”
They pretend nothing happened.
It gets worse. They start finding excuses to spend more time together at work.
Walking down to the piers when they need a break.
Riding in the same car.
Eating lunch together in Steve’s office.
Each time, they tell themselves they’re just building a friendship.
Their conversations begin to drift from work to the personal.
Steve talks about his father.
Danny talks about growing up on the islands.
Neither of them usually talks about these things. But it feels easier with each other. Which is exactly the problem. That kind of ease is dangerous.
Steve tries to pull away. He’s scared. He starts assigning Danny tasks that get him away from the office. He stops offering the casual invitations. No more coffee breaks together.
Danny notices immediately. He doesn’t speak up, but something tightens in his chest.
They end up alone in Steve’s office after a long case.
Ready to lock up and go home, Steve is putting on his jacket when Danny finally speaks up.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
Steve freezes.
For a long moment, he doesn’t turn around to look at Danny.
“I’m not.”
“Steve.”
The certainty in Danny’s voice tears at Steve. It breaks something.
Steve exhales slowly and finally faces him.
For the first time, Danny sees something unguarded in Steve’s expression. Fear.
“This.” Steve says quietly, gesturing between them. “Whatever this is.”
“Yeah. I noticed.”
Steve grimaces.
“We can’t do this.”
Danny nods.
“I know.”
They stand there, appraising each other across the desk.
Both of them are fully aware that they’re avoiding something they want.
Because love and companionship and intimacy are not things men like them get to have.
They have work.
They have duty.
They have purpose.
Which is supposed to be enough.
Steve nods once.
“Good.”
Neither of them move.
The silence gets heavier.
Then Steve steps forward and kisses him.
Just once. Quick and hurried. Terrified.
They both freeze like they’ve committed a crime. And they probably have.
Danny breathes out a shaky laugh.
“Well.”
Steve looks completely wrecked.
“This is a disaster.”
Danny nods.
“Yeah.”
“We should stop.”
They kiss again anyway. Danny leans in, putting both hands on Steve’s waist. Steve wraps a hand behind Danny’s neck.
That’s the real problem.
Not that they want each other.
But once they realize they do, they’re not capable of stopping.