Disclaimer: Hawaii 5-0 and all of its characters belong to Peter Lenkov and CBS Studio Productions.
So I wanted this to be a Thanksgiving fic, but it basically turned into something completely different (shocking, I know) with more of a brief nod to Thanksgiving...
"In your eyes I see forever,
Makes me wish that my life never knew the day before you.
Oh, but Heaven knows those years without you
Were shaping my heart for the day that I found you.
If you're the reason for all that I've been through,
Then I'm thankful for the day before you.
Now you're here, and everything's changing, suddenly life means so much.
I can't wait to wake up tomorrow and find out this promise is true.
I will never have to go back to the day before you."
-"The Day Before You" Rascal Flatts
It took almost six months for Danny to realize that Steve, sly guy that he was, had somehow covertly convinced his subconcious to move in. The space in their dresser that held his boxers and t-shirts wasn't the first clue. His toothbrush that sat next to Steve's and his shampoo on the shelf in the shower in their bathroom weren't either. It was the fact that it had gone from Steve's bathroom and Steve's dresser to theirs without his consent.
It wasn't as if he was complaining though. He couldn't really even remember what it was like to wake up anywhere other than face to face with Steve. There were two things that he had learned since he and his partner had gone from 'coworkers' to friends to lovers.
First, whenever they finished a particularly stressful case, Steve would walk through the front door, dropping his shirt and pants in a scattered trail out the back door, and would dive head first into the ocean. Danny had watched his tanned form powering through the waves in the moonlight on several occasions. He would swim until he worked the tension out of his body, then he would stride back up the beach like it was his God-given right to do so, and he would press Danny up against the wall in their house. He would have the cool, lingering taste of the ocean on his lips when they fell against the soft sheets of their bed.
Second was that, as much as he would deny it, Steve loved watching Danny cook. He would hover on one of the barstools while Danny fumbled his way through dinners that his mother had made when he was younger. The predatory, overheated look of unadulterated in Steve's eyes as Danny leaned over the stove never failed to send an arrow of heat straight to his groin.
The latter was why he had been semi-grateful that Rachel had Gracie for Thanksgiving that year. Danny was pretty sure that he couldn't have handled containing himself while cooking their dinner had his daughter been there. He had a hard enough time as it was with Kono and Chin at the house. Their presence coupled with wrangling Steve as he tried to poach on the dinner before it was ready had made for a stressful afternoon.
"Steven, if that spoon touches those mashed potatoes, I swear to God I will make you eat in the garage." He warned, wagging his finger at Steve. He mentally cursed himself for becoming his own mother. Steve gave him a 'deer in the headlights' look and the spoon clattered to the counter. "That's what I thought."
"C'mon, Danno, I'm starving!" He whined, moving around the counter and peering over Danny's shoulder. Kono and Chin were both watching with silent amusement as Steve wrapped an arm around Danny's waist while the other hand snuck around and grabbed a carrot from the bowl in front of them. He smirked and popped it into his mouth.
"Damn it, Steve! What'd I say?" Danny huffed, scowling at the man in front of him. Steve just continued to smile as he chewed the carrot, not replying until he swallowed it.
"Hey, babe, you said potatoes. Last time I checked, that was a carrot." He leaned forward and kissed him softly, the taste of butter and spices making Danny's stomach growl, causing everyone to chuckle.
The dinner had gone off without a hitch (unless you counted Steve stealing food every time that Danny wasn't looking) and a few hours after the turkey had been carved, Danny and Steve were pressed against one another, swaying in the hammock in the backyard. The breeze was gentle as it caressed Danny's face, ruffling the hair that fell haphazardly on his forehead.
"You know, I see why they called you 'Smooth Dog' in the SEALs now." He muttered, hovering between being asleep and awake. Steve hummed quietly into his hair, chuckling low in his throat.
"Why's that?"
"Because you have managed to convince me to move in with you, without even asking, and because you have figured out how to make it impossible to stay mad at you." He hesitated before adding, almost as an afterthought, "I don't know if I like it."
"You love it." Steve replied immediately. Danny scoffed out a laugh and nodded.
"Yeah, I guess you're right." They were silent for a long while, listening to nothing but the sound of the crashing waves. "Does it ever bother you?" Danny finally broke the silence with a whisper.
"Does what bother me?"
"The Navy. What you had to do while you were in." The way that Steve's muscles tensed had Danny wishing he could just swallow the question and forget that he'd ever asked it, but her knew that wasn't going to happen.
"Yeah, sometimes. I..." He paused, as if he were collecting his thoughts. "I can't say much about it, you know that, but I can tell you that it does stick with you. You never get over it." The pain that was barely concealed in Steve's voice was heartwrenching.
"Is that why you always wake up so early?" Steve's chuckle rumbled through his chest and into Danny deliciously.
"No, that's years of having to wake up at that time for the Navy. Some habits stick with you."
"Like the swimming." Danny supplied, his nose crinkling. He felt Steve nodding behind him.
"Yes, like the swimming. You really hate it, don't you?" Danny sighed and turned over so that he could face Steve. He reached out and brushed his thumb over the other man's cheek bone absently before responding.
"I don't hate it. I just...I prefer not to swim unless I have to."
"Why?" Steve quirked his head to the side in a manner that made him look more like a little puppy than a 'super SEAL'.
"When Gracie was little we went on vacation to this little place up North. It was really nice, it had an olympic-sized pool that was right next to our room." Steve's face paled and Danny knew that he could see where the story was going. "We left the room for our continental breakfast one morning, and she slipped and fell into the deep end of the pool. Sank straight to the bottom. I dove in after her, and we got her out quickly, but she inhaled a lot of water. She almost drowned, Steve, I almost lost Grace."
"But..." Steve swallowed thickly around the knot of emotion in his throat. "You still let Gracie go swimming?"
"She's a lot older, and I always make sure she has water wings on. And that I'm in the pool with her. She hates it, but I don't let her swim out of arms length. I know that I'm a good swimmer, I know that I am. We used to swim every day when i was a kid, but there was...there was this moment when I saw her in that water that I didn't think I was going to get to her in time. I was so scared."
"I can imagine." Steve's arms wrapped around Danny's waist even tighter, holding him to his bare chest, and Danny couldn't resist burying his nose into the crook of Steve's neck. They always fit together so well, but it never ceased to amaze him. "So, that's why you don't like to swim?"
"I don't like to swim because it reminds me of that day. I don't like to feel that helpless."
Steve didn't say anything for a long time, he simply carded his fingers through Danny's hair slowly and took slow, measured breaths. Danny focused on the steady thrum of the other man's heart under his fingertips, and the soft sprinkle of chest hair under his palm. He inhaled slowly, savoring the scent that was purely Steven. He smelled like salt water and fresh air mixed with a heady combination of musk and the Earth scent of soil with the underlying chemical tang of cologne.
"You still with me, Danno?" Steve whispered, his voice almost getting lost in the tendrils of Danny's hair.
"'M still awake." He murmured, his lips scraping over the soft skin of Steve's neck. He smirked at the resulting groan from the other man.
"Ready to go inside?"
"What time is it?" Danny grumbled.
"Just after midnight." His statement startled Danny because they had made there way out to the hammock at just after six o'clock.
"Did I fall asleep?" He questioned, trying to place where six hours had disappeared to.
"I don't think so." Steve chuckled, his lips brushing over Danny's temple.
"I'm shocked that you've sat still for this long. This is a first."
"It's easy when I have something distracting me from the fact that I'm not moving." He replied, his voice laced with lust that was barely contained beneath the surface of his words. His fingers skittered down Danny's bare spine until they reached the waistband of his boardshorts, sending a shiver through the smaller man.
"Yeah, I guess we should probably head inside." He grumbled, not wanting to move, but knowing that his back would protest any movement in the morning if he didn't get up and get into a more suitable bed. He wasn't twenty years old anymore, afterall. He stretched once before rolling out of the hammock.
His feet connected with soft sand, but his knee had other plans than him standing up. The joint buckled under his weight and he collapsed into a pile of flailing limbs. Steve was at his side in the blink of an eye, hovering over him and allowing his hands to check over his entire body to look for injuries.
"Jesus, Danno, you okay?" He breathed, his eyes wide with concern. Danny let out a groan and reached down to rub at his knee.
"My knee, dude." He grumbled. Steve ran his fingers over the swollen joint gently, drawing a hiss of pain from the other man. "I think it just locked up because I hadn't stood on it for so long, I'll be okay, let's just get inside." Danny tried to wave Steve away, but he was having none of it.
"C'mon, tough guy, lets get you some ice and ibuprofen and get you into bed." He reached down and hooked one arm behind Danny's shoulders, and the other arm under his knees, lifting him with more ease than anyone rightfully should have. Danny scowled at him the entire trek into the house.
"I hate you. So much. I'm not an invalid." He grumbled as Steve made his way into the house, not stopping until they reached their bedroom. He settled the smaller man onto the fluffy comforter gently and then scurried to get an ice pack, ibuprofen, and a bottle of water.
"For the record, you do not hate me. You love me. You know how I know that? I have the Valentine's Day card that says so. So there." Steve stuck his tongue out, his brow scrunching up as he settled onto the edge of the bed. Danny scoffed and snatched the ice pack from him, placing it gingerly on his knee.
"You're a goof. But," He held up his hands in a classic Danno gesture. "You're not wrong. I do love you, Steven." Steve smirked and leaned over to kiss him softly.
"See? What did you do before you met me?" He whispered when they pulled apart.
"Oh, believe me, my life was much less stressful. And less painful." Steve frowned at the statement until Danny reached out and smoothed his thumb over the creases in the other man's forehead. "Less stressful, less painful, but I wasn't nearly as happy. I never want to go back to the way I was before I met you. And, if that means I get shot, and thrown out windows on occasion, so be it."
"Happy first Thanksgiving, Danno." Steve smiled, crawling into bed next to Danny and wrapping an arm possesively around his shoulders.
"Happy Thanksgiving, babe."
That was...I honestly have no idea what that was. It turned into a mashed up version of about three different ideas I had...ugh. I'm sorry.