Hawaii Five-0 is property of CBS and its creators.

Rating for safety. Not particularly explicit.

A/N: My wing fascination started with Brumeier's Stranger Things on AO3, was fueled by a wing prompt last January-ish on Criminal Minds, and grew with a lot of Destiel from Supernatural. So, I decided to try my hand. Enjoy!

Danny had been acting odd all day. He was not, by nature, a still person, always a ball of barely-contained energy-fingers tapping, legs bouncing, something always in motion—but it seemed worse than usual. He shifted constantly, fidgeting in his chair like he had an itch he couldn't scratch, getting up frequently to pace restlessly around his office, shaking out his shoulders as if they were stiff. Steve thought maybe Danny had gotten a sunburn, but he didn't have the kids that weekend, and the team hadn't gone surfing, and Danny wouldn't be caught dead anywhere he could possibly burn otherwise. Besides, that would explain the shifting, but it didn't explain the pacing. Sure, they were doing paperwork, but Danny didn't sit still long enough to cramp up.

When Danny disappeared into the bathroom for the third time and hadn't come back after 20 minutes, Steve had had enough. He was going to get to the bottom of this; if there was something wrong with Danny, Steve had a right to know, not just as his boss, but as his friend. He went after Danny.

"Stupid, stupid wings," Steve heard Danny muttering as he approached. Wait, what? Wings? Surely, Steve wasn't hearing right.

Steve burst into the bathroom without knocking. "Danny, what's. . ." wrong, he was going to say, but he was stopped by the sight in front of him. Danny did, indeed, have wings, gorgeous black ones streaked with white with gold feathers at the base. Like a goldfinch, Steve thought. They were at least six feet across, and as tall as Danny. "Danny, are those wings?"

In a flash, the wings were gone. Steve would have thought he had imagined them if there weren't a few feathers left, drifting down to the floor to join others. "Steve!" Danny said, startled. "What are you doing here?"

"I was worried," Steve replied. "You've been acting strange all day. Does it have something to do with your wings?"

"No!" Danny said, defensively. Steve just looked at him, and Danny's bravado faded. "Yes, okay? Yes, I have wings, and yes, they're bothering me. Happy now?"

Steve approached, slowly, hand out, reaching for the wings he could no longer see. He wanted to touch them, run his fingers through them, much as he'd wanted to touch Danny since he'd met him. "Can I see them again? Please?"

Danny sighed in defeat. "Fine." They snapped into view again, fluttering restlessly and shedding more feathers.

"What's wrong with them?" Steve asked.

"I'm molting, and they itch like crazy," Danny said.

Now that Danny mentioned it, Steve could tell the wings were disheveled, feathers sticking up here and there, bald patches sprinkled throughout. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No," Danny said. "They need to be groomed."

"I can do that," Steve said. He moved forward, reaching out to touch again, fingers itching with want to feel the feathers, disarrayed as they were. "Just tell me what to do."

"No!" Danny backed away, wings snapping against his back. "You can't!"

"Why not?"

"It's personal. Usually, only family grooms each other."

Steve was hurt. "I thought we were family."

"Not like that!" Danny's voice softened at the look on Steve's face. "Look, it's. . .intimate, okay? It'd be awkward."

"Oh." There was nothing Steve could say to that. Clearly, Danny didn't feel that way about him. Steve wished he did, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Danny searched Steve's face, looking for something, some sign of his sincerity, perhaps. "Do you really want to?"

Steve nodded vigorously, reaching out a third time. "Very much."

Danny moved away again. "Not here. Let's go home, okay?"

"Okay." Steve followed Danny out of the bathroom, The other man's wings were once again invisible. "How come I've never seen them before?"

"They're incorporeal. Usually, you can only see them if I want you to, which I don't," Danny said emphatically.

"Why not?" Steve wanted to know. "They're beautiful."

Danny laughed, dryly. "Because it's hard enough being the loud-mouthed haole from the mainland without being the loud-mouthed, winged haole."

Danny had a point. Steve had more questions he bombarded Danny with as they drove to Danny's house. "Does your whole family have them? Do Grace and Charlie?"

Danny sighed, resigned to the barrage. "Yes, my whole family has them. They're a recessive mutation, and they breed true. No, Grace and Charlie don't have them. If both parents don't have them, it's literally a one in a million chance."

"So, who takes care of them for you?"

"Grace, usually," Danny said, "but she's at cheerleading camp. Normally, it wouldn't be a problem—they can go several weeks without attention—but, like I said, I'm molting."

"How often does that happen?"

"Once or twice a year. Of course, it would happen now." Danny scowled, shifting again.

Steve noticed. "Almost there." He pulled into Danny's driveway and followed the other man into his house. Danny led the way into the bedroom, removing his shirt and lying down on the bed, wings snapping into existence and draping over the sides.

Steve was practically drooling. The gold feathers stood out against the tan skin of Danny's back. The long lines of the wings emphasized the muscles in his back. Steve once again felt the urge to touch, and not just the wings. He wanted to run his fingers through the feathers and keep going, down along Danny's spine and to his firm, tempting ass. Steve wanted to knead it, to see if it felt as good as it looked. He swallowed hard and willed down his burgeoning erection. Yeah, this was intimate, all right. Steve would have to try very hard to control himself. He ignored the small, hopeful voice in the back of his head that said, if Danny was trusting him to do this, maybe he didn't have to. "Now what?" he asked.

"Now you straighten them out, try to get them to lie flat, pull out any that are loose."

"Okay." Steve stood at the foot of the bed and leaned over Danny, but the angle was awkward, and he couldn't reach. Steve moved to the side, but the wings left no room for him to sit.

"Oh, for God's sake," Danny said, clearly frustrated. "You're going to have to straddle me."

"Are you sure?" Steve wanted to, badly, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to hide his arousal, and he didn't want to make Danny uncomfortable.

Danny moved to sit up. "I knew this was a bad idea."

Steve pushed him back down, gently. "No, I want to do this, if you'll let me. I just don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Danny countered. "I told you, this is intimate."

"I don't think that's going to be a problem." Steve moved into Danny's line of sight, letting him see the bulge in his pants. Danny eyed it speculatively, then nodded.

"Do it then. I want it."

Steve heard what Danny was saying: he didn't just want the grooming, he wanted Steve. He wanted the intimacy, all of it, not just in this situation. Steve was good with that. Very good with that.

Steve moved into place, carefully straddling Danny's hips. Even through all the layers of cloth, Steve's erection fit snugly against Danny's ass, and Steve couldn't help a little wiggle, then another when Danny moaned appreciatively. Reluctantly, Steve resisted the urge to continue. He had a job to do.

Carefully, Steve ran his hands through Danny's wings, base to tip. "Like that?"

Danny sighed in pleasure. "Yeah, just like that. Feels good."

"I'm glad." Steve did it again, enjoying the feel, soft and downy at the base, stiffer at the tips. Then he focused more closely on the right wing, running his hand along it row by row, straightening the feathers as he went. He came across a bent feather and tugged lightly.

"Harder, Steve. You're not going to hurt me."

Steve spared a moment to imagine Danny saying that in other situations, then yanked. Danny flinched slightly, but didn't cry out.

Steve finished the right wing and moved to the left, repeating the treatment. Then, he did another full pass. He paused at the base when he felt a small nub. "What's this?"

"Uropygial gland. It secretes oil to make the feathers glossy and protect them. There's one on each side."

Steve felt for the matching gland and pressed down. A small amount of sweet smelling oil seeped out. But that wasn't all. "Ooooohhhh," Danny moaned.

Steve grinned, wickedly. "Like that?" He did it again.

"Oh, god, Steve, you don't know what you're doing to me."

"I can only imagine." Steve pressed down a third time, hard, and Danny convulsed beneath him, coming with a cry. It was the most erotic thing Steve had ever seen. "Guess I'm finished here," he smirked.

Danny reached back and smacked him. "Oh, no, you're not. You still have to spread the oil."

Steve complied. "All done," he said when he was finished. "But now I have a personal problem."

Danny turned to look at Steve over his shoulder, eyes dark. "Maybe I can help you, now."

"Maybe so." Steve repeated his earlier actions, wiggling against Danny, letting out a groan of his own at the pleasurable friction. "I think I need to be groomed."

Danny's grin matched Steve's own. "I can do that." He suited actions to words, taking as much care with Steve as Steve had with him. Steve moaned and writhed in appreciation, coming hard when Danny took him in his mouth. Danny crawled up him and rested his head on Steve's chest, wings cocooning them in a soft, downy blanket. "I think we should make this a regular occurrence."

Steve kissed his head. "That can be arranged."

Danny snuggled in closer. "Good."