Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize...
A/N: Hey guys! I know I've been awfully absent lately and I'm sorry about it. You could read all the reasons on my tumblr so I'm not gonna explain again.
Here's a little story, I used it as a practice for the next THTH chapter coz I felt very rusty. Hope you'll like it.
As always thanks to my wonderful beta quisinart4!
Tell me what you think!
skinship: bonding through the intimacy of touch
…
"You okay?" Steve steps beside her after the uniforms take away their suspect.
"Yeah," Kono nods, pressing her palm against her sore ribs. "Just a kick to the side, the asshole surprised me."
"He put up a good fight." Steve agrees solemnly. "Want me to take you to the hospital?"
"Nah," she shakes her head with a small smile. "I have an icepack in your mini fridge. That will do but you should have that cut checked out, it doesn't look too good."
"I'm fine." he dismisses her concern and pushes her towards the car. "Let's get back to work."
Back at HQ, they meet at the middle of the briefing room on their way to the other's office.
"Uh, here's the icepack." Steve grins.
"I, um…can I?" Kono asks tentatively, holding up the first aid kit and motioning at the cut above his eyebrow.
"Sure." Steve's grin softens into a warm smile. "Let's multitask, what do you say?"
"Huh?" Kono blinks at him in confusion.
"Hop on." He nudges her towards the computer table.
"Seriously?" She arches a brow. "Danny's gonna have a nervous breakdown if he catches me sitting on this thing."
"He badly needs some time off anyway." Steve deadpans with a serious face.
Kono shakes her head disapprovingly but sits on the edge of their super expensive high-tech computer.
"Up," Steve says, reaching for the hem of her top.
"What are you doing?" She swats his hand away instinctively.
"I can't put this on the right place if I don't know where it is." Steve explains slowly, rolling his eyes.
"Sorry," she mumbles sheepishly, pulling her top up to reveal the already darkening patch of skin on her left side.
"Here," Steve mutters in a low voice, pressing the ice gently against the bruise and Kono can't help the little yelp of pain.
"Don't move." she commands and opens the first aid kit. "Look at me."
Surprisingly Steve doesn't protest just lifts up his head obediently, looking into her eyes and for a moment she finds herself breathless from the intensity of it. She mentally shakes herself and starts to clean the cut above his right eyebrow, willing her hand not tremble under his focused gaze. It's unnerving, how he doesn't seem to blink, like he doesn't want to miss a moment of her ministrations; his eyes are like the ocean on an exceptionally hot day, vivid blue and inviting and his warm breath hits her cheeks with every exhale and her skin suddenly feels two size too small and for a hysterical moment all she wants to do is lean in and press her lips against his slightly parted ones.
"Don't you two look cozy?" Danny's voice snaps behind them and Kono pulls back with a shuddering breath.
Steve doesn't move, just blinks owlishly. His incredibly long lashes fan against his cheeks, softening his otherwise hard features and his eyes are still on her face and she swears that his heavy lidded gaze is gonna give her third degree burns in any minute now.
Then he moves back a little, slow and lazy, looking pleased with a small smirk at the corner of his mouth.
"Don't worry, we were just playing doctor." Steve drawls, his voice low and rough, sliding down her spine like thick honey and she can't suppress the shiver any longer.
"Thanks for the ice," she rushes out the words, quickly sliding off the table and disappears into her office without a backward glance.
"You are lucky that Chin had to stay at the crime scene. Try keep it in your pants, Commander Casanova." She can hear Danny's irritated voice and she pulls the door closed before Steve could answer.
.
.
They land in an ungraceful heap at the bottom of the slope, their limbs tangled together, panting heavily.
"Fuck," Kono mutters with feeling, trying to wriggle free.
"Easy," Steve hisses through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut.
"What?" Kono pushes herself up carefully, looking him over in concern. "Are you hurt?"
"I think I dislocated my shoulder." Steve says, his face clear of any distress.
"Seriously?" Kono widens her eyes at him disbelievingly. "This is just fucking typical."
"What?"
"You just can't get hurt when we are remotely close to a fucking hospital. No, you have to fall off cliffs and get shot in the middle of the ocean."
"Look, who's talking," Steve glares at her. "If I remember correctly I wasn't the one who got trapped inside of a burning building. Without back-up."
"You sound just like Danny." Kono scowls, turning away from him, offended. "We need to get out of here."
"Kono."
"Hm?"
"You need to relocate my shoulder."
"Oh, no. No way, brah." She shakes her head vehemently with panic in her eyes.
"It wasn't a request."
"Yeah, yeah," Kono rolls her eyes. "Now on top of everything, pull rank on me. Nice, boss. You know what, suddenly I'm not really against hurting you a little."
"Awesome." Steve mutters. "I talk you through it."
"You've done this before?" she arches a brow curiously.
"Several times," Steve shrugs, and then winces as blinding pain shoots down his injured side. "Once alone."
"Cool," Kono grins, with a little bit of awe in her voice. "Okay, boss man, where do you want me?"
Steve blinks, suddenly loss of words. Oh yes, he has some ideas of where does he want her, mostly it would be in his bed but at this point of unrelieved sexual tension he stopped being picky, really. And let's not talk about his repeating dream about her and a surfboard.
He lifts his gaze and he finds her looking at him, her head tilted to the side a little, like she's sizing him up. He wonders what she sees and if it's to her liking and he has to swallow around the coppery taste of panic and want because this would be the worst idea ever.
Steve clears his throat and starts to talk, guiding her actions, keeping his gaze focused on her face. One moment he is distracted by her warm palm on his skin, how it seems to ignite sparks and the next thing he knows is the sharp pain as his shoulder sets back into its place. He falls forward with a muffled grunt into her waiting arms, panting against her collarbone. He feels her fingers, sliding into his hair, blunt fingernails scraping lightly against his scalp in a calming fashion. He reaches out with his good arm, curling it around her waist to pull her a little closer, seeking comfort and warmth he didn't know he needed in the first place. They stay like that for what it feels like an eternity and ten minutes, then she shakes herself and pulls back, pressing a soft kiss against the side of his face.
"Come on," She stands and extends a hand towards him. "Let's go."
He takes it and realizes that he'd follow her anywhere.
.
.
"You are bleeding." Steve stops her with a grip on her elbow.
"Just a flesh wound." Kono tries to break free, but he just tightens his hold in response.
"Doesn't look like it." Steve gives her a disapproving glance and starts to pull her towards the paramedics. "Come on, let's get it checked out."
"I'm fine." Kono snaps.
"Kono," Steve halts, turning her towards him, looking into her eyes. "Please."
Maybe because he said, please, the word he barely uses or the way his eyes are full of concern, but Kono stops struggling and lets him lead her to the paramedics.
"It will need stitches." The doc says, shaking his head at Kono with a disapproving look. "Lie down."
Kono lays on her stomach as the doc pulls off her top and starts to clean the knife wound. She looks up in surprise when she feels the tentative touch on her hand and sees Steve's fingers there and he wears an adorably uncertain expression, like he doesn't know if his presence and his attempt to comfort are needed or not.
She turns her hand, sliding her palm along his, threading their fingers together and Steve's bashful, happy little smile is so worth it, she thinks, mind slow and fuzzy with the meds kicking in and she tiredly closes her eyes when she feels him moving. She cracks one eye open to see him crouching down beside her and reaching out to smooth her hair from her face, thumbing a lone tear away from her cheek.
"That's my brave girl," she hears him murmur in a tone she'd never heard from him before. It's a tone of darkened bedrooms and lazy Sunday afternoons, a tone of shared trust and want, a tone she'd never expected to hear directed at her.
She pretends she didn't hear it because she's not drugged enough not to be a goddamned coward.
.
.
"Uh...'no?" Steve mumbles, his mouth feeling like cotton. "Kono?"
"Oh, how nice of you to finally wake up." Danny drawls, his voice full of disdain and anger.
"Where…"
"Hospital, you insane, unreasonable, ungrateful son of a bitch." Danny pushes himself off the wall and starts to pace before Steve's bed, flailing his arms around so wildly, Steve is afraid that he's gonna injure himself. "You got shot and left for dead in that warehouse."
"Where's Kono?"
If it's possible, Danny gets an even tighter expression on his face.
"Where the fuck is she, Danny?" Steve asks forcefully, struggling to sit up.
"We don't know, okay?" Danny yells, his fingers raking through his hair in a frustrated gesture. "He left you, but took her."
"What?" Steve feels his blood run cold. "Where are my clothes?"
"Are you out of your mind?" Danny sheaths, looking like he's a heartbeat away from an aneurysm. "You are what? Four hours out of surgery?"
"Don't care," Steve grunts, tearing the needle carelessly out of his hand. "You have any idea what he's gonna do to her? He took her because he thinks she'd be easier to break. We both know that it's not true. So I ask for the last time, where the hell are my clothes?"
Danny gives them to him because he knows perfectly well that when Steve has this crazy light in his eyes, that determined, steely glare, there's no stopping.
It takes them nine hours, forty-three minutes and fucking forever to find her, or at least that's how it feels to Steve.
She is horribly bruised and bleeding from a stomach wound and he cradles her into his arms carefully as he waits for the ambulance to arrive.
"Come on sweetheart," Steve mumbles with the edge of panic, pressing his shirt against her wound to slow the bleeding. "Open your eyes, stay with me."
"Steve?" Kono whispers faintly.
"I'm here," Steve feels his eyes burn. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't protect you. I should have but I couldn't. I'm so fucking sorry."
"Tired…" she croaks, her lashes flutter as she tries to keep her eyes open.
"No, no, no. Stay with me." Steve pleads but she goes limp in his arms the next moment.
He presses his shaking fingers on her neck, feeling her barely-there pulse, and for the first time since his father died he feels like his world is falling apart and he promises her darkly, that he's going to kill Ortiz for this.
Later the paramedics have to forcefully pry his fingers away; he just couldn't let her go.
.
.
"You know," Steve starts, his tone almost amused. "For a man trained in the most advanced combat techniques, you're a surprisingly sound sleeper."
He runs his knife down the side of Ortiz's neck and a tiny trickle of blood follows the tip.
"How the fuck did you get in here?" Ortiz demands.
"I'm sure you've got decent security." Steve smirks. "But not decent enough to stop me."
"So, I'm an official, sanctioned kill?" Ortiz snorts. "Didn't think big bad Navy SEALs like you did wet work like this."
"You really don't know much about me at all, Ortiz. You never really bothered to learn either, which is pretty fucking sad because if you'd done what you were trained to do, if you had evaluated your circumstances, prepared yourself for the job you'd been paid to do you would have realized how fucking stupid you were to even think about trying to take something from me… no matter how much money was involved."
Ortiz smirks then hisses as Steve finds another place to open the flesh under his knife.
"You would have slipped up, McGarrett. I would have gotten her and then you'd been the next target. I just wanted to see you suffer a little before I kill you.
"I believe you," Steve responds softly. He leans down, pressing more of his weight against the man he's on top of. "I know you would have tracked her, followed her, and in one moment when I wasn't looking, when I didn't pay attention you would have taken her from me. That's why I'm here, Ortiz. That's why I didn't send anyone for you. It's why you don't have the HPD surrounding your house. It's why you'll never see the inside of a cell. Because once we became your target, the only way to ever end it is with you dead."
"What the fuck did you do to me?" Ortiz demands.
"Curare." Steve explains with a dark grin. "If you were going to be alive you'd start to regain control of your body in about ten minutes."
"Not a fair fight, McGarrett, I thought better of you."
Steve drags the knife down the side of Ortiz's face in response, watching as the blood pours from the wound and starts to pool on the pillow beneath Ortiz's head.
"If you were worthy of a fair fight; I would give you one. But this moment isn't about you, it's about the twenty-seven people we know you've killed since you left the Navy. This is about giving you what you gave your victims. It didn't take us long, really, to figure out your method. I've got very smart people working with me at Five-0."
"Fuck you."
"You aren't a very sporting hunter, drugging your kills and killing them in their sleep." Steve sighs. "At least I did you the favor of waiting until you woke up. I waited because I wanted you to understand what a fucking coward you are. You didn't pull the trigger on Harrison; though you certainly wanted him dead so you could take his place. You let that man suffer a horrific death because you couldn't man up and end it for him or try to save him. You drug your hits because you don't want to look them in the eye when you put your knife in them."
"You don't know what you're fucking talking about. I couldn't save Harrison."
"You didn't help him die with dignity either. You didn't help him die like a man." Steve pushs the blade into Ortiz's shoulder and twists it. "Christ, I wanted to kill you that day. I could have put a bullet in your goddamned head. I should have put a bullet in your head. He asked you to, didn't he? He told you to kill him and you hid up there in your little hole and just fucking watched."
"Like you would have done anything different." Ortiz's head drops back on the pillow.
"I have no problems looking a man right in the eye and killing him." Steve pulls the knife out of Ortiz's shoulder and ignores the hiss of pain that it garnered. "I want you to picture her now, on the beach, laughing and vibrant and fucking alive. I want hers to be the last face you see in your miserable life."
Ortiz's eyes widen momentarily and he groans in horror as the large hunting knife slides between his ribs and right into his heart.
Steve watches the life draining out of the man beneath him and then slowly lifts his hand away. He rolls away from the body and leaves as unnoticed as he arrived.
.
.
Kono's awake when Steve arrives back to the hospital.
"Hey," she greets him with a weak smile and he feels relieved that she doesn't look so pale anymore.
"You okay?" She asks worriedly, seeing his determined expression.
He is next to her bed in two long steps and leans down to press his mouth against hers in a soft but firm kiss.
"I am now." He smiles against her mouth and kisses her again, warm and sweet and more sure than he's ever felt before.