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Steve looks at the hotel clerk, disbelief in his eyes. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Danny tries to memorize the intricate pattern in the rug, all too aware of the sudden tension in Steve's stance. Down the hallway, the maids' chatter is muffled by the wall-to-wall carpeting.
The clerk doesn't blink. "Sir, that's the reservation. There's no other room available." He glances down at the paperwork. "And I see you're on the government rate."
Steve glares at him and grabs the key card from the clerk's hand, turning without another word and heading to the elevator. Danny shrugs at the clerk in apology.
They're silent on the brief journey to the third floor, staring at the advertisement for the breakfast buffet.
~~~
Danny's beat. He loosens his tie and flings himself onto the bed – the one bed in the room. He's grimy and sweaty and frustrated. All the way to this island for nothing - the suspect was gone when they got to the abandoned warehouse.
Steve hasn't said a word since they got to the room, and Danny can practically feel the waves of tension coming off him. Figures they'd find the only hotel in Hawaii without a swimming pool or beach access.
"Taking a shower," Steve says, as he shambles into the bathroom. Danny grunts.
~~~
The rest of the evening is a series of looks and glances; Steve stiff and unresponsive; the bed looking impressively small as they shift and dance around it. Eventually exhaustion takes over and they sack out, bodies tightly contained to their respective halves of the bed.
It's only when Danny wakes up suddenly at 3:25 am (according to the green glow of the hotel clock) that he realizes the unspoken line dividing the bed has been breached. There's a hand snaking around Danny's middle, nestled against his stomach. An arm is casually draped over his waist, disconcertingly connected to a certain former Navy officer who has no business being anywhere near Danny's sleep-warm torso.
Should he try to move the arm? Danny dithers. He was right in the middle of a pleasant dream he imagines he could easily slip back into. Before he can decide, Steve snuggles up closer, bringing Danny's back flush up against his chest. He makes a satisfied little sleep noise and, no, Danny does not find that at all endearing.
He's frozen. Steve's chest radiates heat against his back, and he can feel his breathing, in and out, in and out. His eyes start to droop, and he vaguely thinks, fuck it, before falling back to sleep in the cradle of Steve's arm.
~~~
When Danny wakes again, he's confused the way you are when you're in a bland hotel room that could be anywhere. The room's too dark, the air is frigid, the furniture unfamiliar. It takes him a moment to recall why he's here.
He stretches his legs and rubs up against Steve's warm body and stiff cock.
He gulps.
It shouldn't feel as good as it does, his commanding officer's dick hard against his hip. He looks nervously at Steve's face – thankfully, still asleep.
A rush of images flows through his mind: Steve lazily lifting a beer to his lips as they relax on the beach; the pleased look on his face when he tells Danny about the hotel room for Grace; water dripping in rivulets down his taut stomach as he emerges from the surf in a swimsuit. Something clicks into place; a feeling of rightness.
His cock starts to stiffen. No no no no no. This can't be happening. He tries to will it down, make the feeling go away. But Steve's breath is puffing gently against his neck, and his arm is a comforting weight on his chest. He closes his eyes tightly as something awfully close to acquiescence wells up inside him, bubbling up until he can't contain it anymore. Sighing, he lets his hand come to rest gingerly on Steve's waist, the white cotton of the t-shirt soft under his fingers.
His gaze wanders to Steve's boxers and he stares at the bulge, eyeing the way the stripes in the material curve over it. He can't help wondering what his cock looks like - what it might taste like. There's a sudden dry lump in his throat that he has to swallow over.
Steve stirs and his leg slides over Danny's calf, possessive, as his cock presses against him even more.
That's it. Danny purposefully turns his mind off, shifts into some other dimension where thoughts can't intrude. Now it's just burning need that propels him as he moves his hand slowly from Steve's waist towards his cock, trailing down his stomach, itching to slip it under the t-shirt to feel the heated bare skin. But the bulge draws his hand inexorably downward.
Danny's not quite sure where to go with this, but he's stepped off the cliff and there's no going back now. It's reassuring that Steve is practically clinging to him already. At the first touch of Danny's fingertip to the taut cotton of his boxers, Steve's erection responds instantly, swelling anew.
A soft groan falls from Steve's lips as Danny presses hesitant fingers down his length. The shaft thickens under Danny's caress, stretches the fabric even more and Danny almost groans himself at the sight and feel of it, the way Steve's body responds to his touch.
Steve murmurs something unintelligible, his eyes cracking open, and Danny freezes. "Oh," Steve says softly, the word heavy with meaning. After a moment of fraught silence, Steve covers Danny's hand with his and says in a low, husky voice, "Don't stop."
Danny breathes a sigh of relief, desire coursing through him at the feel of Steve's hand on his. He grins then gets down to business. He rubs his hand more energetically up and down as Steve greedily bucks his hips into it. Swollen and flushed, his cock thrusts through the front of his boxers and with every swipe Danny shivers when he touches that bit of exposed flesh.
"God, Danny," Steve moans, "harder." Danny pulls out his cock, pausing to admire its girth before obediently gripping it tightly. He figures what feels good to him will feel good to Steve, so he pulls one of his favorite moves, flicking his wrist over the tip, until Steve groans again, louder, burying his head in Danny's chest and digging his fingers into him.
"Wait," Danny says. He's never done this before, but he has a sudden urge to taste Steve, fill his mouth with him. He pushes Steve onto his back, shoving the blankets out of the way and maneuvering in the small bed until he's settled between Steve's legs.
Steve smirks. "Bet you never thought we were going to work this closely together."
"Shut up and let me do this," Danny says as he trails his hands up tanned and muscled legs. He glances nervously at Steve's face before pulling down his boxers all the way, Steve bending his legs to help and staring at Danny the whole time. "You're not a talker, are you? Because I can't stand that," Danny adds.
"Just keep going and you'll find out."
Danny snorts and smoothes a hand over the curve of Steve's thigh, down the crease between leg and hip and through the dark hair surrounding his cock, where he curls his fingers around the base. Steve presses his legs into Danny's sides, eyelids lowering, breath quickening in anticipation.
Steve's cock is imposingly large and Danny hesitates. He flicks a glance at Steve's face – still smirking, the bastard. He takes the measure of Steve's erection with a hand up its length, loving its silky solidity, the tactile sponginess of the head, the way he can wipe that smirk off Steve's face when he flicks the tip.
Now his mouth is watering. He licks a stripe straight up the middle with the flat of his tongue, hands gripping Steve's hips, that little cut just above the bone nice and tight. It's hot and sweet and salty all at once, warm as honey and throbbing with life, and it makes him want more. He licks and nips and gnaws at it, Steve gripping his shoulders more and more tightly, whimpering softly.
Danny snickers to himself at the mewling sounds Steve's making, all because of him. He concentrates on the head, savoring the slight moisture at the tip before engulfing it in his mouth. A shudder runs through Steve and he buries a hand in Danny's hair. It feels bigger than Danny expected; he almost gags, but the feel of it in his mouth is exciting, like nothing else he's experienced. Somehow the fact that he has Steve's cock in his mouth, Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett's cock, is terrifying and unbelievable, yet thrilling. He wants to hear Steve break down and cry out loud with the pleasure of it.
He works more of Steve's cock into his mouth, as much as he can, feeling it twitch as if it has a life of its own. Steve swears in a rough voice, and Danny wants to hear more of that, yeah, so he puts more pressure into it with his lips and tongue. God knows if he's doing this right, but it seems to be working because Steve's arching up into it, body tensing, his nails digging into Danny's back.
"Jesus Christ," Steve mutters. He must be getting close, Danny thinks, surprised at how quickly things are going. He doubles down in his efforts, his jaw and mouth starting to ache, but he wouldn't stop for the world, not until Steve comes – spectacularly, if he has his way.
A moment later he does. But he's disappointingly quiet, doesn't even give Danny the satisfaction of a good yell. Typical - just a sharp exhalation of breath, the merest hint of a grunt, his body stiffening through the climax then relaxing. As the come spurts into Danny's mouth, he pulls away out of reflex at the unfamiliar sensation, just in time to see it jetting onto Steve's belly.
Steve lies limp, his eyes closed and a hand curled around Danny's waist. "Oh God," he breathes, flinging his other hand over his forehead. "Danny…man, that was...you've got hidden talents."
Danny chuckles, doesn't say anything. Now that it's over, he can't quite look Steve in the eye, half-lying against him, paralyzed, his heart beating a mile a minute; he's still got a rock-like hard-on.
He relaxes a bit when Steve starts stroking his hip, stretching out languidly like a cat along Steve's side, drawing a finger through the come on his stomach. Previously he might have thought that was gross, but this is Steve - the boss he can't get out of his head, the subject of a few unacknowledged fantasies. He just made him come with his fucking mouth and the taste of him still lingers on his tongue. So the sight of the come on his firm, tanned stomach, a line of dark hair disappearing under his still-swollen cock, is just about the most erotic thing Danny's ever seen.
Just as he's expecting Steve to do something in reciprocation, he notices the steady rise and fall of Steve's chest – he's sleeping, the asshole. Danny heaves a long-suffering sigh before he drifts off.
~~~
It seems like mere moments later, but there's daylight glowing around the edges of the curtains when Danny unsticks his sweaty cheek from Steve's shoulder, finding himself twined around his partner. The events of the night come back in whoosh of memory and Danny's paralyzed in a moment of horror. They can't even blame it on drunkenness. Jesus. He rolls over on his side, facing away from Steve just to give himself some space to think. The worst thing is he didn't even get off – he adds that to his mental list of Steve's many flaws.
The bed shifts and Danny realizes Steve must be awake too. He tenses, but then Steve's hand is warm on his hip. Apparently they aren't going to pretend it didn't happen.
"Hey. What time is it?" Steve asks.
Danny cranes his neck at the clock. Fortunately he doesn't have to look in Steve's direction to do that. "'S only 6:00."
"Good." Steve's hand moves in a gentling motion from Danny's hip to his thigh. "Cuz we weren't quite finished, were we?" His hand circles around to caress Danny's rear end and Danny's skin tingles and sparks, the sensation going straight to his groin. Considering where things were left, it's not surprising that his cock springs quickly back to life.
Okay, maybe he was too quick to add to the list of Steve's flaws.
Over and over, Steve strokes Danny's ass cheeks until they're exquisitely sensitized, each swipe of his hand more pleasurable; Danny thinks he might just come from this. Just as he's giving in completely to the feeling, Steve pulls him around towards him and Danny lets him haul him up onto his chest; they trade grins.
"Nice butt." Steve says, squeezing. He looks at Danny's mouth. "Maybe a single room wasn't such a bad idea after all." He trails his fingers through the dip between Danny's buttocks, and Danny gasps at the suggestive touch. He can't help grinding his hips down into Steve's, the rigid column of his erection squeezed between their bodies. Their faces are a hair's-breadth apart. Danny had noticed Steve was handsome; he wasn't blind. But now, his body electrified with desire, crushed against the man from head to toe, he's the most beautiful thing in the world.
Their eyes lock and his mouth hovers over Steve's, tantalizing. But neither closes the gap. Steve's eyes snap away and in an instant, he flips Danny over onto his back, holding his hands above his head in a iron grip. For a split second, Danny feels like one of Steve's interrogation subjects, until Steve dives in to crush his mouth against his, desperate and insatiable. He ruts against Danny, apparently ready to go again, his arousal obvious.
Steve pulls back and looks intently at Danny, pushing a hand through his now completely disheveled hair. "Let me fuck you," he growls out, hips still jerking into Danny's. Danny sharply inhales; he's never imagined doing that. But there's something about Steve; he does things to him. He's never wanted a man before, yet here he is. He's never sucked cock before, yet his jaw is sore from his earlier efforts. Why not go the whole way?
His body must want it, because he's on fire at the very idea. He looks into Steve's eyes before claiming him with a deep kiss, sucking on his tongue with abandon.
Without breaking the kiss, Steve scrambles with what's left of Danny's clothes, his hands hot and purposeful on Danny's skin, almost frenetic. Danny helps as he can, but he's so intent on Steve's mouth, the feel of his naked skin against his, he can hardly concentrate on the details of shedding his garments. He just wants more, now.
Steve's dick is hard again, jutting into Danny's stomach, grazing his own erection with breathtaking little touches. Steve takes a spit-slick palm to Danny's cock and Danny almost blacks out for a second at the pleasure, Steve's hand slow and sure up its length, fingers stroking his balls briefly before swiping up again. It's Danny's turn to make embarrassing noises as the world narrows to the feel of Steve's hand on his cock.
He's surprised when Steve stops to fumble in his overnight bag. Even worse, he feels a moment of panic when he realizes that Steve's getting a condom - that makes it all the more real. And he's not going to think about why Steve has lube in his bag either. No, just not going to think about that at all. His eyes are narrow slits as he watches Steve's preparations, rolling the condom down his impressive erection. Danny's pulse goes into overdrive at the sight; he can't believe this is actually happening.
Steve pauses when he's done, gazing at Danny with lust-blown eyes. He trails a hand down his own chest, lingering on a nipple, giving Danny a little show and Danny reaches for Steve's arm, tracing the tattoo on his bicep, feeling the ridge of a vein. Danny's practically panting now, mesmerized by the sight of Steve displaying his cock and body for his delectation. He sits up and pulls Steve into the V of his legs, joining their cocks in his palm while he kisses him hungrily.
He pulls back to say between pants of breath, "You're a bundle of surprises, sailor boy."
"Navy SEAL," Steve mutters while nibbling at Danny's ear.
"Pffft, we all know what sailors get up to at sea, don't we?" Danny says as he arches his neck to allow Steve greater access.
"In that case, let me show you how it's done," Steve growls, pushing Danny down on the bed and pressing him into the sheets. He lifts Danny's legs up from behind his knees so his legs are spread wantonly, everything exposed and open. Danny can't help biting his lip in anticipation.
"It's okay," Steve says, apparently sensing Danny's apprehension. "I'll take it slow. Whatever you're comfortable with." He caresses the back of Danny's thighs, moving down to the curve of his butt, so sensitive now, bringing his hands back up over Danny's balls and cock. He repeats the motion a few times, and Danny slowly relaxes into the exposed position, his cock hard as rock against his belly.
Steve's fingers flutter around Danny's asshole, testing the waters, not committing too much at this point. It's teasingly exciting; Danny's heart beats faster and his eyes bore into Steve's, daring him to go farther. Yes, Steve's put on a condom and slicked himself up, but Danny could still call a halt to the proceedings. Once again, the balance is in his favor.
But he doesn't want to stop. As Steve softly strokes his entrance with gentle fingers, he starts to relax. It's weird; he's never had anyone play with that part of him – it's an odd feeling, but not unpleasant. He's heard things, but he really doesn't know much about anal sex. For the first time, he wants to know what it feels like.
Only because it's Steve. Nobody else. He wants to kiss him again, but it's not the moment. Not yet.
Steve slowly ventures a finger inside and Danny tenses then relaxes as he adjusts to the feeling. "Easy,"
Steve says, as if he's done this before and knows how it goes. Danny wonders about his experience. Then all other thoughts go out the window as Steve adds another finger and the feelings intensify. "You're okay," Steve murmurs, a steadying hand on his hip. He leans in and kisses him, soft, as he lightly moves his fingers, loosening him up.
Steve brings his other hand up to Danny's face in a soothing gesture. "Okay?" Danny swallows and nods, not wanting to reveal the depth of his nervousness. "Tell me if you want me to stop." He slides his fingers out before lining up his cock against Danny's entrance, their gazes fixed steadily on each other.
"Go ahead," Danny breathes.
Steve breaches his hole, just barely, and he feels huge, like he couldn't possibly fit, but somehow he pushes in and only by keeping his eyes on Steve's does Danny keep it together while what feels like the equivalent of a Mack truck enters him. Steve murmurs comforting platitudes that somehow seem profoundly meaningful and surprisingly, it's really all okay. More than okay, as a flash of pleasure arcs through his body when Steve moves a certain way. Jesus, what the fuck..
He clings to Steve – he knows his nails are digging in, but he can't help it, it's the only way he can get through this, eyes peeled on Steve's. "It's okay; you're okay," Steve says, head hanging into Danny's, arms shaking. He's staring, whites of his eyes showing; it's as if neither of them can believe they're doing this, but neither would stop in a million years. Now they're building up a sweat and Danny can feel Steve's muscles working, he's holding back his thrusts with difficulty, waiting for Danny to adjust.
Danny's never felt like this; fucking a woman is totally different. He feels like he's changing with every second this goes on, the blue-hazel of Steve's eyes melting into his. Before long Steve starts to move and the intensity is almost more than he can stand, every thrust making stars appear behind his eyes.
Steve grabs his cock – finally, Jesus – and starts stripping it vigorously. Danny's not going to last long, he can feel that, the build-up's been too long in the making. It hurts, but it's a good kind of hurt and it's getting better with every second. He's fucking Steve right now, and it's incredible; almost the best fuck he's ever had, a surge of sensation blasting through the core of his being. It's almost too much. He can hardly believe it. A man: small hips, hard muscles, hair too short to grab – the opposite of what he thought he wanted.
He's too far gone to think of what his friends back in Jersey would think, but that's not far off the horizon. Right now all there is the in and out of Steve's cock, the embarrassing "thwap" of skin against skin as he hits it home, the shameless splay of his own welcoming hips, and Steve's desperate grip on his cock.
It feels so good.
Within moments, the tension builds to that ultimate moment when the wave hits the wall. He comes, gloriously, as if he'd never had an orgasm before. Unlike Steve, he cries out loudly, and he doesn't care. That's not something he can hold in - he's never been one to keep his feelings to himself. As Steve thrusts in a few more times, Danny wraps his arms around him until Steve comes too, with a low grunt – for the second time, Danny thinks smugly.
Unlike with a woman, Danny feels sore and spent as Steve pulls out and gets rid of the condom. They're both breathing heavily and sweating and Danny's kind of in shock at what's happened. They lie there on their backs, looking up at the ceiling. One of Danny's hands is resting on Steve's chest, palm up, and their heads are leaning together.
He's still overwhelmed with post-coital torpor but a part of him already wonders how they're going to work together after this. Steve's fingers curl around his thigh, then fall to his knee in a caress.
"So." Danny may as well break the ice. "That was…"
"Don't say anything," Steve grits out. He seals Danny's mouth with a kiss, as if to shut him up, throwing a leg over his so they're curled together closely. Danny feels unaccountably choked up. He's relieved that words aren't necessary; another way it's different from a woman.
As his heartbeat slows to normal and Steve's arm again rests across his chest, the bed no longer seems so small.
Maybe he could get used to this after all.
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Fic: Your New Twin-Sized Bed