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It was going to happen one day, Danny's known that all along. You don't get involved with a guy like Steve, a guy with Steve's past, without knowing that something like this is going to happen. Hawaii's a small place, after all.
Doesn't make it any easier to deal with when it does happen, though.
Danny's late, only ten minutes, but late all the same and as he pulls into the parking lot he's cursing the computer glitch that made filing his case report such a problem. The lot's nearly full because the bar's a popular place to watch the game and Danny likes that. He's spent too many nights sitting alone in his shitty little apartment and it's good to have someone to go out and watch the game with, someone to go to places like this with. It's good to go where there's noise and people and to not be the one sitting alone at the bar, to not be the one on the outside looking in anymore. With Steve around to share things with he feels somehow... human again, like there's more to life than work and the meager amount of time he gets to spend with his daughter. He knows that to an outsider it maybe looks like Steve is getting more out of this than he is, but that's not true. The truth is that Steve has made as big a difference to Danny's life as Danny's made to Steve's and Danny's not about to take that for granted.
He feels his pulse quicken as he gets out of the car and heads for the entrance to the bar, thinking about Steve. Steve'll be waiting for him because Steve's always punctual; Danny has the Navy to thank for that. Or maybe Steve always has been that anal about timekeeping, Danny can't be sure, but whatever: Steve will be waiting for him and the thought gives Danny a warm feeling in his gut and hurries him towards the door.
The bar's busy, just like the state of the parking lot suggested and it takes Danny a moment or two to spot Steve. He's on a stool at the bar, with a beer at his elbow and he's clearly started without Danny, which means Danny's going to have to endure some bitching from Steve about being late. It doesn't matter. It'll be good-natured bitching, an extension of the easy banter that's increasingly developing between them as Steve lets his guard down more and more around Danny and Danny loves it.
Kind of like Danny loves Steve, a recent realization that's been giving him some sleepless nights because he's not sure exactly how Steve feels about him. It may be that Steve's too damaged to ever let himself trust enough to love someone and a treacherous voice in the back of Danny's mind that he does his best to ignore uses words like 'gratitude', 'repaying favors' and even 'meal ticket'.
Now isn't the time to be worrying about that though because Steve's waiting for him and right now Danny will take what he can get.
He's halfway across the room, his mind working on possible retaliations to Steve's opening gambit, before he realizes that Steve isn't alone. There's a guy at the bar next to him, slightly shorter than Steve, thickset and wearing a business suit, but no tie. As Danny watches he leans in towards Steve to say something and he puts his hand on Steve's thigh as he does so.
Something hot and possessive twists in Danny's stomach at the sight of that. Who the hell is this guy and what gives him the right to touch Steve like that?
Except, of course, Danny knows the answer to that, of course he does. This is one of Steve's clients—Steve's ex-clients, Danny reminds himself. This is another john, just like Danny and the thought makes Danny go cold all over. This guy is one of those—one of the many—who had Steve before Danny did, who paid him for it just like Danny did. This guy, in his expensive business suit, with his businessman's paunch and his stubby, well-manicured fingers, this guy paid to fuck Steve, paid Steve to blow him, paid Steve to do all the things that Danny paid for, too. The thought makes Danny feel sick with shame.
Steve looks down at the hand on his thigh and shakes his head firmly, which just makes his companion lean in closer and repeat whatever he'd said more insistently. Steve shakes his head again then looks up and spots Danny and Danny's relieved to see the smile that Steve gives him. Steve wants him here, he reminds himself, tonight was Steve's idea and he has to put the past behind him if he's going to make this thing work out, for both their sakes.
He walks over to Steve, slides an arm around his waist and pastes on a smile.
"Hey, babe," he says, casual as anything. "Sorry I'm late, work stuff. Who's your friend?"
He feels Steve stiffen slightly within his encircling arm.
His voice is cold and final. "This is David, an old business acquaintance of mine. He was just leaving."
David doesn't seem to be in any hurry to leave though. He shifts back, leaning against the bar and looks Danny up and down with barely-disguised animosity.
"So this is why you haven’t been taking my calls," he says with a tone of cold amusement. "I'd heard you had someone... special. Funny though, I wouldn't have thought he could afford to keep you on a cop's salary."
Of course, Danny's come straight from work, he's still got his badge on his belt. But he's not doing anything wrong; he's got nothing to be ashamed of here.
He's not letting that one go, so he responds with icy politeness. "For your information, David, I'm not 'keeping' him. Steve's not in that line of work anymore."
David huffs a contemptuous laugh. "Really? Is that what he's telling you? Don't flatter yourself, detective. Once a whore, always a whore. Just wait 'til the money runs out, he'll be back to sucking cock and spreading them for anyone who'll pay, just like he did before."
Steve gets to his feet, all six foot of him fucking looming over David.
"I believe you were leaving, David."
David pushes himself away from the bar and straightens up, facing up to Steve with a sneer.
"Oh no," he says, "I'm not going anywhere just yet. Our little 'arrangement' suited me just fine, Steve and I'm not ready for it to end. So you'll meet me in the usual place at the usual time and you'll make sure that I'm very, very satisfied or I'll be having a little conversation with my friend the Chief of Police. Because I don't think that he'd be very happy to hear that one of his detectives has been consorting with a hooker, now would he?"
Anger flares hot in Danny's stomach. David's threatening Steve through him and he's not having that. He balls his fists and squares up, his mind going into overdrive as he calculates the best way to take this arrogant sonofabitch down, the best way to protect Steve from this asshole…
"Danny." Steve's voice cuts through his anger, cool and controlled. "Leave this to me."
This isn't a Steve that Danny's seen before. He's seen Steve putting on an act for clients, all cocky and self-assured, he's seen Steve vulnerable and lost and he's seen Steve angry, but this... this is a Steve who is utterly calm, utterly in control and as cold as ice. Danny's got a feeling that this is Steve the SEAL. This is who Steve was before Afghanistan, before everything went bad and fucked him up.
"If you do that then I’ll have to call your wife," Steve says. "I'm sure she'd love to hear how you spend your Tuesday afternoons."
"You seriously think she'd take the word of a lying whore against mine?"
Steve smiles now and it's a truly chilling smile that goes nowhere near his eyes, the smile of a shark that's locked onto its prey.
"She doesn't have to believe me, David. I know what she's like; I've overheard your phone calls. All I have to do is sow the seeds of doubt in her mind. All I have to do is to make her wonder whether you're really where you say you are when you go on these 'site visits'. Her father owns the company; all she has to do is say one word to Daddy and you'll never be allowed out unchaperoned again. Just think, David, no more Tuesday afternoons with anyone. It'll be just you and Daddy's little guard dog. How does that sound?"
He steps towards David and now he really is looming.
"Just think about that, David, before you dare to threaten me and mine. Because if I hear you've said one word to anyone about my partner here, I'll be making that call to your wife straight away. Is that clear?"
For a moment David looks as though he's going to argue the point, but then the bluster goes out of him. He seems to shrink down as he looks at Steve, and then he nods dumbly.
"Good," Steve says. "Come on, Danny, let's go and find somewhere to drink where the clientele's got a bit more class."
*~*~*~*~*
The walk to the car is a silent one. Danny's reeling from what just happened, but whether it's from the implications of David's threat or from Steve's behavior he's really not sure.
He's always known that getting involved with Steve has risks attached, but he's always been one to throw his heart in the ring first and figure out the consequences later and this thing with Steve is no different. Except for Chin, no-one knows that he ever paid Steve for sex, because cash transactions don't leave a paper trail. Other than that, Steve's a war veteran who's seeing a shrink on a regular basis about his PTSD, which means that even if someone found out about Steve's more recent past, Danny thinks he'd be on pretty solid ground if anyone tried to make an issue out of their relationship. He'd have to put up with some shit, but he's used to that. Being a haole cop in the HPD hasn't exactly been a bed of roses, after all.
Just so long as Rachel never finds out what Steve used to do. But Danny's not going to think about that right now.
What he is thinking about is the Steve he's just seen. The old Steve, the Steve who's got his shit together.
The Steve who doesn't need Danny.
Danny's not the sort of guy who wants his boyfriend to stay dependent on him just so he can keep control over him, he's really not. That would be kind of sick and creepy, after all. It's just that if Steve gets himself sorted out, if Steve gets better... well then, why would he need Danny anymore? At least at the moment he can be there when Steve has the dreams, he can hold him and help him to ride out the nightmares and the flashbacks. He can pick up the pieces afterwards and offer him stability and understanding. He can have his back through the difficult times and make sure that he's not facing them alone. He has a purpose in Steve's life; there's a reason for Steve to want him around.
If Steve gets himself fixed then maybe he'll move on and leave Danny behind.
Danny kind of hates himself for even thinking it.
"Danny?" Steve's voice breaks through his thoughts and he realizes they've reached the Camaro. "D'you want to go someplace else?"
He looks up at Steve, unsure exactly which Steve he's going to see, but this looks like his usual Steve again, concerned and slightly hesitant, like he's not quite sure he's doing this right.
He forces himself to smile. "No, babe, I don't think I do. It's been a long day and I'm pretty beat. I think I just want to go home."
Steve looks at him for a long moment like he's trying to figure something out, but then he nods and slides into the passenger seat of the Camaro without another word.
*~*~*~*~*
Danny knows he's not always the sharpest tool in the box, knows that sometimes it takes some good, solid detective work to get him to where he needs to be. He knows, thanks to Rachel and her unwillingness to mince her words, that sometimes he can be downright oblivious about things and somewhat blind to what's staring him in the face. However, this time he's got a feeling that he's missing something important and he'd kick himself for being so slow if it wasn't so hard to make himself do anything right now.
Anything, that is, except clutch at the sheets and babble incoherently while Steve rides him, thigh muscles flexing as he takes Danny deep and then rises up again, measuring the length of Danny's dick with each careful stroke. Steve is glorious like this, long lean body stretched out above him, all chiselled abs and sculpted pecs, his tattoos dark under a sheen of sweat. He's got his head thrown back and his throat bared as he fucks himself on Danny's cock and he's so fucking beautiful that it takes Danny's breath away.
Just like he took Danny's breath away the evening before when he pushed him against the wall and went on his knees for him, mouth hot and wet and fucking amazing as he swallowed Danny down and made all the accumulated shit of Danny's day go away.
Just like he's been taking Danny's breath away every single day since the evening at the bar that they haven't talked about.
And fuck if it doesn't all fall into place right at that moment, right at the moment that Danny can't hold on anymore and comes with a shout, hips jerking up to meet Steve's downward stroke so that he loses himself deep inside the tight heat of Steve's body. It all falls into place and Danny's a fool and an idiot and the most insensitive asshole going.
Steve's looking down at him and the expression in his eyes makes Danny want to kick himself all over again.
Because Steve hasn't said 'no' to him ever since that night at the bar. For over a week now Steve has been ready and willing whenever Danny wants him, has fulfilled Danny's every sexual whim without question. Hell, he has anticipated Danny's every sexual need without even being asked.
The sex has been amazing and Danny hasn't bothered to ask himself why he's suddenly gotten so lucky and that's not right. He’s an asshole, no doubt about it.
With a growl of frustration he pushes Steve up and off him, using the element of surprise to roll him until he can straddle him with one leg pinning his thigh and his hand on Steve's cock. A couple of flicks of his wrist has Steve bucking up into his fist, breath coming hard and sharp and Danny's pleased to see that he's learned a thing or two about what Steve likes, too.
"Tell me," he says, mouth against Steve's ear and he knows he's using an unfair advantage. "Tell me what's wrong, Steve."
He twists his wrist again and Steve arches up, panting and cursing.
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong, Danny, I swear..."
"Liar," Danny says, "Tell me. Tell me what's happened. Tell me what I've done."
He slows his pace deliberately and he knows he's being cruel, but getting Steve to talk about anything personal is like getting blood out of the proverbial stone and extreme situations call for extreme tactics.
"Please, Danny!" Steve's begging, which means Danny's got him just where he wants him.
Another slow glide of his fist. "Tell me what I've done wrong."
"Fuck, Danny..." Steve's got his eyes squeezed shut. "Please..."
"Tell me."
Steve's desperate now, thrusting up into Danny's fist and Danny lets his fingers go loose so that Steve can't get the satisfaction he's seeking.
"Tell me and I'll let you come."
Steve calls him three unprintable names, then caves, voice cracked with frustrated want.
"Since the bar... since we met David... you've been different."
Different? That's not right, he's not been any different from before, things have carried on pretty much as normal between him and Steve...
Except... maybe he's been watching Steve a little more closely than before. Maybe he's been looking for signs of the other Steve, the old Steve. Maybe he has been different, and of course Steve would notice, he's good at picking up on what other people want, it's one of the things that kept his clients coming back for more.
"You've been different... oh God, Danny, please..."
Danny tightens his grip and jacks Steve hard, once, twice, and then Steve comes with a bitten-off cry, spilling hot over Danny's fingers and his own belly.
Danny rolls away onto his back, wiping his fingers mechanically on the sheets, careless of the sticky mess he's leaving, brain in overdrive. Suddenly it all makes horrible, horrible sense, the way Steve's been behaving. This is Steve, after all, the one person in the universe who has less of an idea than Danny about how to do this relationship shit properly.
Steve thinks that Danny's going to leave him and he's been doing the only thing he knows to try and persuade Danny to stay. And it's taken Danny a week to realize what's going on.
Danny feels like a pretty crap partner right now.
*~*~*~*~*
Danny can't get it out of his head, but he can't think what the fuck to do about it, either. He came to Steve because he wanted sex and he can see that in Steve's head giving Danny all the sex he could want in order to keep him has a kind of twisted logic to it. Except that it's not about the sex; it never was about the sex, really, if Danny's honest. But how the hell does he get Steve to see that?
Danny turns the matter over in his mind all the next day, but he keeps coming back to the same unavoidable fact: he and Steve are going to have to talk. Which is where he gets stuck, because although he knows he talks a lot, he never talks about this sort of shit. He's a guy, after all and guys don't do the emo stuff. They drink beer and slap each other on the back and (in his and Steve's case, anyway) fuck each other's brains out and all the emotional stuff just sort of gets assumed.
However, this is Steve, who is fucked up in ways that Danny can only even begin to guess at, so the assuming doesn't work quite the same as it might with any normal guy. Steve is clearly assuming things that Danny didn't intend and the only way that Danny can see to deal with that is to get it out into the open and talk about it.
Like that's going to go well.
If he was going to have this conversation with a woman, Danny thinks—if he'd tried to have this sort of conversation with Rachel before things went so horribly wrong—he'd cook her dinner, wine her and dine her, romance her a bit to show her how special she was. He'd try and get the mood right before starting any conversation about feelings and crap like that.
But Steve isn't a woman; he's an ex-Navy SEAL with a fuckload of issues who's been working as a prostitute and Danny's a cop. Not exactly Harlequin romance material, the pair of them. Danny suspects he'd feel kind of foolish sitting down to a candlelit meal with Steve, and he's willing to bet that Steve would find it kind of awkward, too.
Except… he's also willing to bet that no one's ever done anything like that for Steve before and certainly not since Afghanistan. Nobody's cared enough about Steve to do that for him and that right there is where Danny comes unstuck, because Danny does care about Steve, one hell of a lot.
*~*~*~*~*
The idea grows on him, which is why he finds himself lurking across the street from Steve's apartment block waiting for Steve to head out for his run that evening. Once Steve's gone he's got a small window of opportunity, about an hour he reckons, but it's enough. He's come prepared, after all, so it won't take him long to set it all up.
By the time he hears Steve's key turn in the first of the locks (and really, who needs three locks on their door?) he's got everything prepared. The salad is made and the steaks are marinating, the wine's open to breathe, Sinatra's playing in the background and the table's laid and lit with candles. It all looks pretty good, if Danny says so himself. He's just hoping that Steve doesn't... laugh, or something.
The sound of the key in the lock sets off a host of butterflies in Danny's stomach and what is he, a teenage girl or something? Maybe this is all a big mistake, they should go for beers and a burger instead and he should find some other way to get through to Steve. However, he can't run away now (the windows have bars, for fuck's sake, he couldn't get out even if he tried) so he's going to have to face it like a man.
He knows that Steve's going to be ready for something. He's seen the telltales Steve sets when he leaves the apartment and he knew he had no chance of resetting them when he let himself in uninvited. Steve's going to be expecting an intruder, so Danny quickly moves to stand where Steve will see him as soon as he gets the door open.
His position means that he has a full view of Steve's face as he slides in through the half-open door, knife in hand (a knife, small, but wicked and who but Steve would take a knife with them when they go for a run?). He sees Steve's face go from suspicious to alarmed to... stunned and confused, all in the space of a few seconds.
"Danny? What the f—?"
Danny raises his hands. He feels... foolish "Just... go with it, babe. I'm making dinner."
Steve still looks confused.
Fuck this.
"We need to talk, Steve. I thought we could..."
He sees the shutters come down, sees Steve start to close off and back away and that's not good, so he steps forward quickly and grips Steve's wrist gently but firmly.
"Last thing I looked there was no law against one guy cooking another guy dinner, yeah?"
Steve looks at him and there's suspicion back in his eyes, but he nods and visibly lets himself relax a little. All systems ready but not actually at action stations. It's a start.
"Look," Danny says, "We just need to talk about some stuff, nothing bad, I promise. So you go shower while I finish getting dinner ready, OK?"
Steve looks him up and down, as if assessing the threat level, but then he nods again and pads off towards the bedroom and a moment later Danny hears the water start to run.
Steve showers quickly, Danny knows, another Navy habit. He just has time to get the steaks ready to go into the pan and pour a couple of glasses of wine before Steve comes back out of the bedroom.
He's barefoot and his hair's damp and tousled. He's wearing clothes that Danny's never seen before, clothes that Danny didn't even know he owned—a dark blue dress shirt, open at the neck, and close-fitting dark pants—and he looks breathtaking, like a model or something. He looks like sex on legs, but with class and Danny has to fight down the uncomfortable feeling yet again that Steve's way out of his league. However, this evening's not about him and his worries, it's about Steve and that's what he needs to focus on.
"Hey," he says, with what he hopes looks like a warm smile and he holds out a glass of wine. "You look good, babe."
Steve takes the glass as though he's just been handed an unexploded bomb. Really, Danny wishes that Steve didn't look quite so like a man about to be sent on a mission into enemy territory. It isn't making things any easier.
"You said wanted to talk, Danny." Steve has that look on his face, the one with the set jaw and the frown line between his eyes that means he thinks he's facing a threat. Danny suddenly wishes he hadn't started this.
"Sit," he says, pointing at the couch. Steve sits, although he's not exactly a poster boy for relaxation. He looks more like he's primed for fight or flight, one hand curled around his wine glass and the other clenched against his thigh. Danny sits himself down next to him and he can feel the tension radiating off Steve like a force field.
"So," he says, forcing himself to sound light and calm. "Last night, when I asked you, you said I'd been different. Since the thing with David. And yeah, I suppose I have."
He risks a look at Steve, whose face is stone.
"But I think that me being different isn't what you think it is." And really, is he making any sense here? "I think that you think that what happened with David has made me change my mind. About this. About us."
Still stone. Not a flicker. No choice but to plow on then.
"The truth is, I've not seen you like that before. Like you were in the bar, when you dealt with David." And Danny's not above lying a little when it's called for. "Truth is, I've spent all week thinking about how hot you were… I guess I've been kind of distracted."
If Danny stops now he'll never get it out, he knows that, so he swallows hard and goes on.
"I've been distracted and so I've missed what's been going on with you. And I'm sorry."
Steve's stone face morphs into a confused one.
"You're sorry? What for, Danny?"
"I'm sorry for not realizing." It's now or never, so he takes a deep breath and goes for broke. "You don't have to have sex with me just to stop me from leaving. Because I'm not going to. Leave, that is." It all comes out in a jumbled rush, words tumbling over one another and then Danny grinds to a halt. Please God that Steve heard that and he doesn't have to say it over again and that he's read the situation right.
Steve frowns, a frown that's bewildered and hurt and yeah, a little bit angry. "But I thought you liked having sex with me, Danny? I thought…"
Trust Steve to miss the point. But then, this is Steve, it's not really his fault, Danny has to remember that. "I do like it! Of course I like it, look at you, who wouldn't? It's just… you don't have to just because I want to. If you don't want to, if you don't feel like it, you can say no. I'm not going to walk out just because you don't want to have sex with me."
Steve looks confused and unsure and a whole mess of things that Danny doesn’t quite get, but that twists him up all the same. He puts his wine glass down and grabs Steve's hand.
"You and me… it's not all about sex, babe. I kind of like being with you, hanging out with you, whatever." He goes for a joke, except it's really not, "I don't know, sometimes we could even, just… you know, cuddle or something." God, he sounds like a sap and he can feel himself going pink.
"Cuddle?" The look of puzzlement on Steve's face would be funny if this wasn't so serious.
"Yes, cuddle, Steven. Cuddle. Nestle. Snuggle, even. You know, 'engage in affectionate physical contact without sexual intent'. Is that such a strange concept to you?"
"No," Steve says, defensively, but what breaks Danny's heart is that he thinks it probably is. He knows that Steve's mom died when he was sixteen and Danny has a feeling that Steve hasn't had much in the way of physical contact that wasn't sex since then. Steve's kind of like a puppy that hasn't been socialized, he thinks, which is an odd thought to have about a guy you're having unbelievably hot sex with on a regular basis. An odd thought, but it sort of makes sense to Danny and he's damn well going to do something about it if he can.
Steve looks like he's struggling to process stuff and maybe Danny's said enough, maybe it's time to back off and let Steve think. He lets go of Steve's hand and stands up. "You need to realize that I'm not going anywhere, babe. Except maybe to the kitchen, because those steaks won't cook themselves and I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
With that he bolts because he is a guy, after all and he's just pretty much bared his soul. Enough is enough.
He slaps the steaks into the pan and puts them over the heat and nearly jumps out of his skin when Steve comes up behind him and wraps his arms around him. Damn his bare feet and his ninja SEAL stealth moves. Danny feels honor bound to complain.
"What are you doing, you big animal? Because I have to say, interfering with the cook is not a good idea if you don't want your dinner burnt…"
"M'not interfering," Steve noses through Danny's hair and plants a soft kiss just above his ear. "I'm engaging in affectionate physical contact without sexual intent. I thought you said that was OK, Danny…"
"Liar," Danny says, grinning to himself because he can feel what's pressed up against his back and there's definitely intent there. He twists in Steve's arms and tugs his head down to brush his lips lightly across Steve's. "Later," he says with a smile. "Right now we've got steaks to eat and I'm not wasting these for anyone, not even you. I made my dad's special marinade and I've got to tell you, babe, you'll think you've died and gone to heaven when you taste this. So go sit and we'll eat like civilized human beings. Then we'll see about the cuddling thing…"
Steve's eyes search his face for a moment, but then he grins, that gorgeous, easy, megawatt grin that makes Danny feel all warm inside and this is good, all good.
"OK, Danny," he says, "Sounds good," and he goes. Danny watches him and thinks that yeah, OK, maybe he got through to Steve, just a little bit and it's a start.
He pushes aside yet again the thought of how much it's going to hurt when Steve moves on. Time enough to worry about that when it happens, he thinks. Right now he's got a partner to feed and some cuddling to do and he'll make the most of what he's got while he's got it.
He's good at that.