Work Text:
Danny was drifting, floating slowly, gradually toward consciousness. His senses woke one by one. Rain was drumming against the roof above. Cloud-dimmed morning light spilled into the room through thin, airy curtains. Steve was a warm, comfortable cocoon around his own sleep-heavy body.
Danny sighed, happy.
“Morning,” he muttered drowsily, arching his spine just the smallest bit in a lazy stretch.
The arm around his body tightened briefly, possessively. The hip pressed against his ass shifted. Steve let out a small grunt before he nuzzled his nose and mouth against the hair at the back of Danny's head. “Morning,” he echoed. After a beat, he added, “Happy Father's Day,” soft smile audible in his scratchy morning voice.
Danny's heart gave a strange, twisting flutter. Without thought, he opened his mouth to say the same to Steve but hesitated before he made a sound, suddenly unsure if he should. Maybe the implication would be too much too soon. Too much pressure, too much expectation.
This thing between them was still new. And though it felt strong and solid, Danny couldn't deny that some parts were maybe still a little fragile. There were still things they needed to discuss and figure out. But deep down, Danny had this feeling that everything would just fall into place, like things had started to do since that night at the hospital a couple of months ago. That night when everything and nothing between them had changed.
Steve moved his legs, somehow sandwiching Danny's between his own and the mattress, pressing the entire length of his body closer to Danny yet. It was all it took to send the thoughts and remaining doubts scattering from Danny's mind. All that mattered was the feeling of Steve's warmth against his skin.
Staying right here for the rest of time seemed like a good idea, no overthinking, no second-guessing, just this.
Danny wrapped his arm over Steve's, weaved his fingers through his where the warm palm was splayed against Danny's chest, holding him close, no intention of letting go.
They didn't move for a long while.
Danny had almost drifted back to sleep when the floorboards outside the bedroom creaked.
“Pshh,” a small voice admonished.
“I know,” Grace hissed. “I can't help it.”
Tiny, feathery footsteps pitter-patter-creaked along the short hallway toward the stairs.
“Pshh,” Charlie insisted.
“Just come on!” Grace shout-whispered back at him.
Danny grinned, barely managing to keep in the snort of laughter.
Behind him, Steve stirred again, then started to pull away the arm he had wrapped around Danny.
“Uh-uh,” Danny warned, holding on to him. “No.”
Steve kissed behind his ear, making Danny shiver all over as tingles ran down his spine.
The bastard was playing dirty, because Steve used the momentary distraction to pull away far enough to prop himself up on an elbow. Danny flopped onto his back and glared up at him.
“Kids are up,” Steve stated the obvious, then leaned down a little, pecking the tip of Danny's nose apologetically.
Danny pouted, tied to keep the scowl on his face in place as he fought the fuzzy ball of warm fondness growing inside his belly. He realized once again that all this was still kind of new to Steve. Having kids in the house was something he wasn't used to. Little humans to take care of, not just intermittently for a few hours, but for days on end… even though Grace and Charlie were old enough to putter around the house on a Sunday morning without supervision. And Steve knew that. Of course, he knew. But he still had this urge to get up and make sure they were okay and happy and that everything was fine.
Or maybe he simply wanted to enjoy every second he could with them.
And on any other day, Danny would have gladly let him get up, would have dragged himself out of bed, too, and followed him downstairs.
But not today.
Unbidden, Danny gave in to the smile tugging at his lips. The words 'happy Father's Day to you, too,' danced on the tip of his tongue once again. Because too much was maybe just barely enough for Steve. He loved Grace and Charlie more than anything.
The puzzled frown on Steve's face stopped Danny from opening his mouth. Instead, he watched Steve struggling to keep his expression serious, questioning. He was failing and smiling stupidly at the same time, though, like he couldn't help himself when looking at Danny.
Lifting a hand, Danny reached up, wove his fingers through sleep-soft messy hair and pulled Steve in for a kiss, a soft, lingering press of lips against lips.
He sighed when they broke apart. Curling his fingers in the short locks of hair, Danny started tracing circular patterns against Steve's skull. “You get up now, you'll ruin the surprise,” he whisper-warned as Steve's lids flickered closed.
He just hummed at the continued ministrations, his body relaxing slowly as he sunk boneless into Danny. “What surprise,” Steve wondered drowsily, head now pillowed on Danny's shoulder. His breath tickled the hairs on Danny's chest as he snaked one arm over Danny's torso, a familiar palm reaching to brace Danny's ribs.
The weight of Steve half on top of his body was comfortable, holding and being held at the same time.
“Father's Day breakfast,” Danny explained in a low murmur. “Something Grace has been doing since she was little.” Rachel used to help, but Grace had come up with the idea all by herself.
Danny smiled again, getting a little bit lost for a moment in memories of more recent years. Things had changed when they had moved to Hawaii.
“First Father's Day here, Gracie made me a bowl of cereal.” She hadn't been allowed to use any appliances without supervision. Not even the toaster. “I was beat, worked a lot of nights that week so it'd been sitting on the table for over an hour when I finally woke up.” Danny huffed out a small laugh, then swallowed against the sudden tightness at the back of his throat. “Best breakfast I'd ever have,” he added.
Steve remained silent and still. Danny wondered if maybe he'd fallen back to sleep.
“Babe?” he asked quietly, fingers still working on Steve's scalp.
Outside, the rain drummed steadily.
“Mary and I used to do the same for dad.”
Danny breath caught a little at the softly spoke words. He felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't thought.
“I'm sorry, babe,” he said quietly.
Steve's head shifted, stubble scratching against Danny's skin before he lifted his head and craned his neck to look up with a frown creasing his brow. “For what?”
Danny shrugged, as much as Steve's weight on top of him allowed it. He thought about how he was going to call his dad later. How he could just pick up a phone whenever he wanted or needed to talk to him.
Knowing Steve couldn't do the same hurt. “I'm sorry your dad isn't here,” he offered.
Steve exhaled, as if relived. “Yeah,” he agreed and settled his head back onto Danny's shoulder.
“He never liked being the center of attention,” Steve mused after a beat. Danny continued to card his fingers through his hair, slow and careful. “I guess that made it hard for him to show how much it meant to him. The breakfast thing. Or, you know, other stuff.”
Danny didn't know, but he didn't want to pry.
“You knew, though?” he asked instead. “How much it meant to him?”
“I get it now,” Steve said, chest heaving with a deep sigh. “I understand.”
Danny wasn't really sure what exactly Steve was referring to, what he understood now about his father that he hadn't when he was younger. There were so many issues when it came to John McGarrett, and Steve's relationship with the man. But he sounded somehow at ease talking about him now, almost at peace. Like he had let go of all the resentment, forgiven all the pain his father had caused him. And for that, Danny was grateful.
“That's good, babe,” he murmured, pressing his lips against Steve's hair. “That's really good.”
“Yeah.”
Something clattered loudly downstairs in the kitchen. Danny held his breath for a moment, then winced. “Sorry,” he apologized for whatever Grace and Charlie had just destroyed in Steve's kitchen, hoping it wasn't anything of significant sentimental value.
“Should we go and check if they're okay?” Steve worried, head lifting up again. He pulled away further than before, forcing Danny to drop his hand from his hair. Unaware of Danny's unhappy pout, Steve settled on his elbow, cocked his head to the side and listened for any signs of distress or calls for help... Grace strangling her brother.
“There's no screaming, no crying,” Danny observed, shaking his head thoughtfully. “I think all limbs are still attached.”
Steve huffed out an unhappy breath, clearly itching to check on the kids, to make absolutely sure no one was missing a finger.
Before he could move to reach for the t-shirt at the foot of the bed, Danny shifted closer and nudged the upturned shoulder until Steve, reluctantly, let himself drop onto his back with a grunt. Danny crawled half on top of him, anchoring him where he lay.
“They're fine,” he reassured again. “Let's give them fifteen minutes, hm?”
Again, Danny felt Steve's chest expand underneath him as he took in a deep breath. He didn't argue.
Pleased, Danny rested his head next to his hand where it lay splayed at the top of the long, fading scar running down along Steve's sternum and abdomen. He shifted a little, got comfortable. And after a moment, Steve relaxed, too. His arms came up, wrapped around Danny, holding him close once again.
The rainfall had let up a little, allowed small noises to drift up from the kitchen.
Danny hadn't felt this much at home since he had left his parents' house for college. He was a little bit drunk on happiness. It made him wonder why it had taken him – both of them – this long to realize what they were missing, why Steve had had to almost-die for them to understand how they really felt about each other.
They had both been stupid, stubborn idiots, afraid to risk the friendship they had, in a world where nothing was permanent or guaranteed to last. Where every day, one of them could die.
Steve, of course, was the stupidest, most stubborn idiot of them all. So it had been up to Danny. At least taking the first, monumentally scary step. One night at the hospital he'd sat on the edge of Steve's bed, waking him long after he'd passed out to the sound of one of his stupid telenovelas. That night, Danny had laid his heart bare in front of his best friend, confessed, to Steve as much as himself, that he loved him the way he had loved Rachel once. More maybe. Probably. Different, but in the same way. That way.
That night, Danny had made Steve his stupid, stubborn idiot. And Steve had let him. Had kissed him, desperate, expressing everything he had been unable to put into words. Danny hadn't needed him to make a single sound because he'd known, in his bones, that Steve felt the same way he did, too.
The kiss had been nice, though.
In the weeks following, Steve had started using words, and not just to tell Danny he loved him. He had started opening up to him, about everything. Surprising Danny with little bits and glimpses, like the memory of making Father's Day breakfast with Mary for their dad.
Danny cherished every small piece of himself Steve offered, each one a precious gift, a confession of love, a promise of a future together.
Honestly, this what not what Danny had figured a relationship with Steve would be like. If anything, he'd expected his stubborn idiot to drive him insane within a week. But so far, all Steve did was surprise him, make him happier than Danny ever thought he could be. And maybe this was just the honeymoon phase, some temporary, giddy bliss.
But this, loving Steve and being loved in return, it didn't feel new. Exciting, yes, but familiar and like home, steady, constant. There'd be bumps in the road, sure. But right now, Danny didn't think this new, overwhelming kind of happiness would ever really fade away.
Maybe he was being naive. But to hell with it. Danny didn't care. Not when Steve was holding him like this, his fingers tingling back an forth on Danny's skin. He hummed appreciatively and wondered if Grace and Charlie would eventually come upstairs to get them if whatever breakfast they were making was neglected for too long, like the bowl of cereal all those years ago.
“You're quiet,” Steve observed, out of the blue.
“I'm happy,” Danny half-answered, half-corrected, easy, casually.
That kind of seemed to stun Steve immediately back into silence. Danny felt him stop breathing, his hands stopped caressing. It was as if his whole world paused for a brief moment. Then Steve exhaled with a barely audible chuckle. “Yeah, me too,” he sighed.
“Good,” Danny decided. He curled his fingers, gently scratched at Steve's softly furred chest. Then, using his feet, he pushed himself higher. Propping himself up on his elbows, half on top of Steve, half on the mattress, he hovered over him for a moment before diving down for an open mouthed kiss. Lips and tongues moving slowly, lazily as they indulged in each other.
Eventually, Steve pulled back the tiniest bit, trapped as he was underneath Danny. “'t's been awfully quiet downstairs,” he said, cocking up an eyebrow as if challenging Danny to ignore the kids any longer.
Danny caved easily but with an overdramatic roll of his eyes. He dropped a last kiss to the corner of Steve's triumphantly grinning mouth before he pulled away.
The world outside of their bed was cold. It was a rainy day, clouds hanging heavy and persistent in the sky. The temperature drop from the normal happy-sunshiny Hawaiian weather was probably insignificant, yet Danny shivered as he stood in just his boxers.
So while Steve pulled on a pair of shorts, Danny opted for sweat pants. He snagged Steve's t-shirt from the foot of the bed while Steve had disappeared into the bathroom with a clean one.
Dressed, presentable enough for a Sunday morning at home, they headed down the stairs. Danny made some extra noise to give the kids a heads-up.
There was some excited whispering, a thunder of lightning fast, tiny feet scurrying from one room to the next, a badly suppressed giggling laugh that warmed Danny's heart when his gaze met Steve's at the delighted sound.
At the bottom of the stairs, they diverted from the usual route to the kitchen and headed for the dining room instead.
“Happy Father's Day,” Charlie shouted at them as soon as they rounded the corner. Danny spotted Grace standing a little off to the side – phone held up in front of herself, taking pictures… or worse, making a video – when Charlie barreled into him, hugging him tightly around the waist, mumbling “Happy Father's Day, daddy,” against his hip.
Bending low, Danny hugged him back, a little awkwardly.
Before he could get his hands properly on his son, Charlie was pulling away and darted over to Steve. “Happy Father's Day, Steve!” he squealed and then hugged him too.
Steve's hands hovered – seemingly stunned into indecision and confusion – helplessly above Charlie's head.
“Um, I—” was all he managed to get out.
Danny huffed out a strange sound, something between a cackle at Steve's dumbfounded distress and a cooing noise of fondness. Before his happy-drunk brain could process and offer Steve any assistance, Charlie was off again. He whizzed to the table – all set with fantastic smelling pancakes and juice and coffee, Danny now noticed – and proudly pointed at Steve's and Danny's plates.
“I made these for you,” he announced.
Danny moved closer to him, ran a hand over his son's hair as he took a look at the cards sitting on top of their plates. Both had drawings of their little family of four on the front. Steve was absurdly tall, especially next to Danny. But the two of them were holding hands, big mouths grinning widely, just as Grace and Charlie. Both cards said 'Happy Father's Day', one 'to daddy' and one 'to Steve' in big colorful and glitter-covered (no doubt Grace's work) block letters and were signed by both kids.
“Wow, look at this, Steve,” Danny marveled, staring mesmerized between the two happy pictures on the cards.
Charlie grinned up at Danny, then craned his neck to look at Steve.
Seeing his blank expression, Charlie's face fell a little.
“Don't you like yours?” he asked, disappointed. “You haven't even really looked.”
“I—” Steve explained eloquently. He made an odd, helpless sound.
Danny kind of really regretted not saying 'happy Father's Day' to Steve earlier now. He should have done it, just to ease him into the idea a little and not let him get ambushed like this. Because, really, Danny should have seen this coming. Grace and Charlie loved Steve, loved that he and Danny were together now. And what was one more dad in the family to them anyway?
Oh well.
“Babe,” Danny coached gently. “Come here.”
Steve obeyed.
Good sailor. Danny resisted the urge to pat his arm. Instead, he held out his hand, pulled Steve in a little with his palm slayed over his lower back, carefully but insistently pushing him closer to the table and the cards.
“Look, it's us.” Danny picked up the card addressed to Steve.
“I— I can see that.” A little hesitantly, Steve took the card from Danny.
“I worked really hard on it,” Charlie said, his voice reluctantly hopeful.
“I can see that, too.” Steve slowly blinked huge, slightly glazed eyes. He clearly had a bit of a hard time comprehending what he was seeing, what was happening.
Danny bumped his hip against him. “Happy Father's Day, babe,” he half-whispered.
Steve eyes snapped from the card over to Danny. “Yeah?” he wondered and it sounded a lot like he was asking Danny's permission to be okay with this, like he was asking if Danny was okay to share his family with him like that. Which was stupid an endearing because Danny wanted nothing more.
“Goof,” he scolded lovingly before he pushed up on his tippy-toes and pressed a quick kiss to Steve's lips. His goof. “Happy Father's Day,” Danny said again.
Steve broke into a grin, happy and a little relieved and a lot proud. Holding on to the card, he bent down and scooped Charlie up in his arms. “This buddy,” he said, indicating the card with a jut of his chin, “this right here is the best card anyone's ever made for me.”
“Really?” Charlie beamed.
“Oh, come on,” Grace suddenly complained from her spot in the corner of the room. She was still holding her phone. “I used to make some really awesome cards for you.”
“Are you filming this?” Danny wondered.
“In a long while,” Steve corrected his initial claim. “Best card anyone's made for me in a long, long while.” He shot Grace an accusing glare (that was zero heat and one hundred percent heart-eyes), because the Happy Birthday cards and Thank You For Keeping Danno Safe cards and Get Well Soon cards had stopped coming around the time Stan had bought her an iPhone.
The updated version of which was still pointed at them.
“I ask again, are you filming this?”
She lowered the phone a bit, pausing the video. “I'm filming the whole day. It's gonna be my Father's Day present for you two.”
“Yeah?” Danny asked. He wasn't the biggest fan of seeing himself on camera but a video of their first of hopefully many many more Father's Days spent together was going to make a beautiful memento some day. Danny could already picture himself and Steve sitting on a couch in front of an old tv set, forty years from now, both gray and wrinkly, reminiscing about day they had become a bit more of a family.
He shot a look up to Steve.
Steve just shrugged, still smiling widely. “I love it.”
Danny snorted out a laugh, not sure Steve would still feel that way when he saw the whole thing and his dumbfounded reaction to the card from Charlie later. Oh, Danny was going to tease him relentlessly about that.
With a mischievous, gleeful smile, he pecked another small kiss to Steve's jaw.
“This will be a big crowd pleaser at the wedding,” Grace commented happily from behind her phone, filming again.
“At the wedding?” Danny echoed questioningly, still a little distracted by Steve. “Whose wedding?”
“Your wedding,” Grace answered, all calm and matter of fact.
Air got stuck inside Danny's lungs. Something flutter-frilled light and loose in his chest, like a flock of tiny birds had just hatched from inside his heart. “Our—” was all he got out for an embarrassing, caught-on-camera second. He forced an exhale, puffing the stuck breath from his squeezing lungs with an awkward nervous chuckle. “Our wedding,” he then mocked-giggled, giddy and lightheaded from the idea and maybe lack of oxygen.
Snorting, he lightly smacked the back of his hand a few times against Steve arm. “Our— our wedding,” he panted between hysteric, chipmunky laughs, sounding like Woody Woodpecker. “Our wedding.”
“I don't know,” Steve mused next to him. “I kinda like the sound of that.”
Danny froze between one huff of air and the next. His world tilted, turned upside-down. He swallowed, choked a little, then stared at Steve. Steve, who was still holding Charlie in his arms and still held his very first Father's Day card clutched in his hand.
“You,” Danny accused, not sure what to make of the comment… because there really was just one way to understand it and how dare the idiot just throw something like that out there?
“What?” Steve asked, grinning stupidly at Danny.
“You,” Danny hissed again. Eyes narrowed to slits, he stabbed an index finger angrily into Steve side, hitting between two ribs.
“Ow, hey,” Steve squeaked, pulling half a step back. In his arms, Charlie giggled.
“I just said that—”
“I heard what you said,” Danny cut Steve off. He gestured in Grace's direction with a wild wave of his hand and then something inside his brain kind of snapped.
“Everyone at out wedding heard what you just said,” Danny yelled, “and really, McGarrett? Really? That's— that's how you're gonna do it? Half-assed and with a stupid smirk on your face? Everyone we care about is watching, Steven. My Nana is watching and this is how you're going to propose to me? Huh? I kinda like the sound of that. Really?”
“Oh my god,” Grace whispered from her corner.
“Animal. You're an animal,” Danny groused, panting with something that only felt like anger on the surface.
“I— I—” Steve stuttered, staring wide-eyed at Danny. “I didn't—”
“Oh no, you are not taking it back in front of my Nana. I dare you to!”
“I'm not!”
The whole room was eerily quiet all of a sudden. Shocked by his own outburst, Danny locked eyes with Steve and what he saw there took his breath away all over again.
“I'm not taking it back,” Steve said softly into the silence. Danny noticed the way he held on to Charlie and the card in his hand a little tighter, as if he was drawing courage from both. Danny's heart flip-flopped dangerously when he watched as Steve's whole body relaxed and a smile spread all over his face.
“I maybe missed the part where I asked you to marry me, but I'm not taking it back.”
Love, big and all-consuming ballooned inside Danny's chest. He was sure he was going to burst into a million pieces any second now.
With a quick, apologetic kiss to the top of Charlie's head, Steve set him down. “Sorry, buddy,” Steve told him, patting his hair. “I don't want Danno's Nana to think I'm holding you hostage to get him to say yes.”
Charlie giggle-snorted.
“Goof,” Danny whispered fondly, happy tears welling up in his eyes, blurring his vision.
“Hold on to this for me, will you?” Steve asked.
Grinning, Charlie bobbed his blond head and took the Father's Day card from Steve.
Then Steve turned back to face Danny. “So what do you say?” he asked with the most gentle and open expression on his face that Danny had ever seen. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” The word just fell from his mouth, surprising Danny. Steve grinned, but Danny waited, for that voice inside his head to tell him this was a bad idea, that it was too soon, that this wasn't going to last.
But there was nothing. No doubt, no fear. Just Grace, squealing and hyperventilating in her corner like Taylor Swift had just walked into the room.
“Yes,” Danny repeated, and still nothing. Just happiness crushing his chest from the inside out.
Charlie clapped his hands and cheered excitedly.
“Yes,” he said one more time when Steve closed the small distance between them, wrapped his arms around Danny and kissed him like Nana wasn't watching.
The End