Author's Note: I was hoping to actually be done drafting this story by this point, but my Muse has other plans. There is a lot to talk about after all, a lot of perspectives and opinions to be had and fielded. I said that I wanted this story to be an honest conversation between what two, straight, alpha men might go through if they developed feelings for each other, and I hope that I'm delivering on that so far. If there's a convo that I haven't touched on yet that perhaps you want to see, leave it in the comments, and I'll see if I can work it in! If not, perhaps I might be able to make another fiction out of it – who knows? Until then, Happy Christmas Eve, be safe, be merry, and every blessing on each and every one of you!

Disclaimer: Hawaii Five-O, as well as the characters found within the series, are owned by CBS Productions, K/O Paper Products, and 101st Street Productions. No profit is being made off of this work.

Hawaii Five-0

Steve was comfortably warm and completely at ease as he slowly woke. The morning light was filtering through the edges of the curtains casting the room in a soft, easy glow, and Steve could feel the even breathing of Danny next to him, deep and slow. The man had an arm thrown about Steve's stomach, and throughout the night, Danny had wedged his head in the crook where Steve's arm met his shoulder and had thrown his leg over top of his partner's own. Steve nuzzled his nose against Danny's hair and hugged him just a little more tightly, his right arm already securely around the blonde's waist, feeling a distinct hardness against his thigh when he did so.

Okay, so, that was new. Should he move his leg to create some distance? Or leave it so as not to create additional friction? Or just avoid either of those two options by simply waking Danny up?

"Told you."

Steve looked down at Danny, pushing away his momentary surprise that his partner was actually awake. "Told me what?"

"About going any further than some light making out." Danny snuffed against Steve's chest, eyes still closed, mouth against his partner's shirt making his words even more muffled as he spoke. He didn't adjust his body though; he stayed right where he was, morning wood and all. And Steve was loath to admit now that maybe Danny had a point, but while it was definitely strange… it wasn't exactly unpleasant. "No harm in taking things slow, Speed Racer," Danny yawned and looked up at him.

In response, Steve rolled Danny over and settled into the side of his body just as Danny had done with him. Who knew Steve would like morning cuddles? Danny certainly wasn't complaining; in fact, he was thoroughly pleased that his partner was being so open about his want for attention. Steve wasn't someone who went seeking or asking for hugs or affection or reassurance, either physically or emotionally. "I want this to work, Danny," Steve murmured softly against his neck, almost in a whisper. Danny slid an arm over his shoulders.

"I know, babe."

"What if it doesn't?"

"Well," Danny scratched gently at Steve's back. The other man honest to God purred, and Danny smiled into his partner's hair. "If a…you know, if a dating relationship doesn't work out, we go back to what we were." He heard and felt the sigh against his chest and Danny tucked his chin down to look at Steve. "What was that?"

Steve hesitated before answering. "You really think we can go back to what we were before all of this with no problems?"

"You know, usually I'm the one coming up with the worst-case scenarios, but it looks like you're beating me to the punch." Danny neatly side stepped the question and felt Steve shift underneath him, but he didn't say anything, and it was kind of funny if Danny had pondered on that. When Steve didn't want to talk about what was truly bothering him, he tended to dance from one foot to the other – minutely, discreetly, but he did it. "You think if things go wrong with us romantically that that'll be the end?" Danny felt Steve wanting to say something, felt him take that breath and then hold it, as if second guessing what he was going to say. "Steve, babe, c'mon; what were you going to say?"

Steve shifted off of Danny and instead came to lie next to him, facing him on his side. "It was for you and Rachel, Danny. I remember when you first came to Hawaii; all you wanted was to leave, to take Rachel and Grace back to New Jersey, to get your family back. You were in love with her for so long even after the divorce was final, man." At Danny's encouraging nod, Steve went on. "All the fights you two had, the things you said to each other, Grace and Charlie having to hear it – I don't want that to be us if things go bad, Danno. I don't want things to go sideways, but if they do, I definitely don't ever want it to get to that level."

"It won't."

"Danny-"

"It won't, Steve." Danny's hand landed on Steve's face, effectively silencing the other man. "It won't. What you and I have is so different than what Rachel and I had. When me and Rachel started dating, we started off our relationship with a romantic interest. There wasn't any friendship before we started dating, we didn't even know each other through mutual friends. We had nothing to base our marriage on except our dating life, and when our marriage went up in smoke, so did everything else. I know," he wiggled closer until his nose was almost touching Steve's, "I know you're scared, babe. I am too, I won't lie. I've got my concerns too, about this, about some other stuff. But we have nine years of friendship and partnership going into this thing, alright? I mean, we've been through Gracie getting kidnapped, radiation poisoning, buildings falling on our heads, Russians swimming up on the beach, being trapped in elevators and we've gotten through all of it, right? What?" Danny squinted at Steve. "What's that look?"

Steve didn't bother to hide the massive eyeroll he gave. "You. You're really gonna compare getting stuck in an elevator and your claustrophobia acting up to you getting shot or all of us nearly dying in the middle of the Pacific from a virus, or crash landing after that undercover op went bad a few years back?"

"Phobias are irrational fears, Steven, it's not like I have a choice that I find being trapped in a four by five moving contraption held only by cabling infinitely more terrifying than staring at a red dot for hours and knowing that if I move, I'll be blown to pieces!"

"Okay; can I just say something please?" Steve held a finger up. "Before we continue this conversation, can you brush your teeth? Your morning breath is kinda killing the conversation and the mood."

"My mor- lemme tell you something; I'm surprised the room hasn't started to warp, that the paint hasn't started to peel from the walls since you started talking. My morning breath." But none the less, and grumbling the entire way, Danny rolled out of bed and into the bathroom, leaving Steve to ponder a conversation that they both knew wasn't over yet. Danny had his own concerns, that was true, it hadn't been a lie, but piling on his own fears to Steve's wasn't going to get them anywhere, so, for the moment, Danny decided to stow his own qualms away and consciously focus on only bringing up good, positive, reassuring reasons for taking this thing further, and if he could convince himself in the process that everything would be fine, then all the better for the both of them and their budding romance.

And if that meant Danny not telling Steve all of his worries all at once? Well, Danny would take that risk. For now.

Hawaii Five-0

The rest of the day consisted of Steve and Danny milling about their hotel room until it was time to head to Danny's parents for dinner and watching Home Alone 2, Die Hard ("It is a Christmas movie, Danny"), and then Steve hitting the gym for a quick work out while Danny stepped into the shower. When Steve returned, he followed Danny's lead and was ready to leave in ten minutes, shower and all, much to Danny's humor.

"You can take the SEAL out of the Navy and all that."

The drive was fairly easy for an early Sunday afternoon. It was made all the better by the fact that Steve didn't have to flash his badge at morons who decided to cut them off and rage on them. As they pulled up to Danny's parents' house, Danny cleared his throat. "Before we go in there, I just want to tell you – my sisters are already there, and my mom kinda asked us about… you know," he rolled his hand in the air, heaving a sigh, "and just… just be aware that Bridget and Stella might try to interrogate you about this because my mother will not have kept her mouth shut."

"I'm a Navy SEAL, Danny," Steve laughed, shrugging off the warning and sticking his hands in the pockets of his coat. "I'm sure I can handle anything they throw at me."

As it turned out, Steve absolutely, positively, could not handle anything they threw at him. From the moment he and Danny walked into the house, Bridget and Stella descended upon Steve like a pair of chattery bats and drew him away, taking him downstairs into the den and sitting him down on the couch while Eddie just shook his head and excused himself to take a nap upstairs. Danny frowned as he hung his coat up in the closet and ambled into the kitchen where Clara was busily laying lasagna sheets over ricotta cheese, sauce, ground beef, and a host of herbs which Danny could smell as soon as he'd walked in the door.

"So. What'd you tell them?" Danny fixed his mother with a look. But Clara had bequeathed that particular expression to Danny, had perfected it over her years, and she merely smiled sweetly at her little boy. "What do you mean?" Her voice and face were as innocent as an angel's. Danny wasn't buying it for once second.

"Bridget and Stella have kidnapped Steve and have him downstairs in the den. They're peppering him with questions and very likely making him feel really uncomfortable, which, under most circumstances I'd find pretty funny and would have no sympathy for him what so ever, but since I know what they're asking him about, I am now asking you, Ma… what'd you say to Bridge and Stell?"

"They're just excited to see Steve again, that's all, and you too – well, Bridget's happy to see Steve again; she said she never got to spend much time with him when she was in Hawaii those few years ago." Clara scooped some ricotta, sauce, and meat onto one lasagna sheet before adding another. "And she's told Stella a little about him, so it makes sense they'd both want to talk to him."

"Talk to him, not drag him down stairs to their lair and interrogate him like he's some kind of perp."

Clara paused, peering at Danny. "Something happened."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Ma, please."

"Well honey, that's the only reason you'd be worried about what they're asking him, is if something happened," Clara put the pasta and cheese down and wiped her hands on her apron while walking over to stand in front of her son to pull him into a hug. "So?"

"So what?"

"…what happened, Danny?" Clara was grinning, cheeks rosy with happiness and, Danny suspected, a little bit of wine, and he could only shake and duck his head as he stepped away from her. Some things were going to remain private, especially where his mother and sisters were involved. "How long's this gonna take? Steve and I came hungry."

"Only about 15 minutes. Why don't you set the table and then go rescue Steve from your sisters? You may as well tell them you two have taken your relationship to the next level anyways."

"Ma!"

Clara just motioned for him to get on with setting the table, and Danny had no other choice but to grab plates and silverware and put them at each place setting, his face as red and hot as it was when he'd had his first kiss when he was 13. Once finished, he took a few steadying breaths and ambled down stairs, hands in his pockets.

He almost wet himself laughing.

There was Steve, pressed between Stella and Bridget, all three of them on the couch and each woman asking questions, which made Steve turn his head to the right and then to the left to answer each sister properly. This was a man who had stared down murderers, rapists, and international terrorists.

And he looked utterly petrified.

"So, have you and Danny been out of the room much at all Steve?" Stella gave him her sweetest smile, but she was facing Danny, who could see her expression plain as day, and all he saw was a shark circling a helpless Menno… or in this case, baby seal. "Uh, yea, yea, we've been out of the room. You know, New York City is right across the Hudson. It's a nice view," Steve finished politely, shoving his hands between his thighs and forcing his right leg to stop bouncing.

"What's a nice view? The city, or- "

"Okay, that's enough," Danny clapped his hands together and preened in pride watching Stella jump in her seat. "You two can stop interrogating Steve now." Bridget at least was up and off the couch and in his arms within a few seconds, and Danny decided that that made her his favorite sister. As if she wasn't already. "Aw, come on, Bro, we were just asking Steve how things are back in Hawaii, catching up with him and all that. I hardly saw him at all when I came to visit two years ago."

"That is not the face of a man 'catching up', Bridge. That," Danny pointed at Steve, who was very clearly relieved that his partner had stepped in, "is the face of a man looking for a shovel so that he can dig his way out of here, which you two have turned into your own rendition room. The only thing you're missing is the table and a bright spotlight."

"So protective, Danno," Stella slid off the couch and encircled her younger brother tightly. A muffled 'don't call me that' could be heard, but it was ignored as she whispered into his ear. "I can only remember you getting that defensive in certain, very specific situations."

Danny growled. "Stell. Cut it out."

"Fine, fine," Stella patted her brother on the arm and looked over her shoulder at Steve, grinning almost as if she were the Cheshire Cat himself before bounding up the steps. "I hope it wasn't that bad, Steve," Bridget smiled at him. "You should be happy I was here, actually."

Steve looked at her warily. "I should?"

"Definitely. You should've seen what Stella did to Rachel when Danny brought her around the first time."

The very fact that Danny's face became pinched and pained was more than enough for Steve to believe her, and he was indeed suddenly quite grateful that Danny's little sister had been there. The three of them stayed downstairs chatting quietly for a few more minutes, safely away from Stella and her own enhanced interrogation techniques, until Clara called down, telling them dinner was ready. Danny, wise to Stella's game, insisted that Steve sit between him and his father, knowing that the two would be able to strike up a conversation about any number of things, from serving as first responders to discussing football and other sports. As soon as everyone had sat down and started to eat, there wasn't a quiet moment at the table until they were finished. Talking, eating, drinking wine, telling stories, sharing loud laughs – this was how it had always been, how it always should've been. Danny's only regret was that Matty wasn't there to see it, experience it, be a part of it. But he refused to let that put a damper on the evening.

"So, what are you guys doing tomorrow for New Year's Eve?" Stella asked, looking between her brother and Steve. "Kevin's having a party with some of his co-workers and we've got a sitter for the night; you're both more than welcome to come hang out with us."

"Yea, and I'll be there too," Bridget nodded, encouraging them. "It'll be fun. We can show you how we celebrate on the East Coast, Steve; no hula parties here, but we have some pretty great drinking games if you're interested"

Steve grinned. It was easy to see why Bridget was Danny's favorite sister; she kept him young and on his toes. "We hadn't really discussed it yet, honestly." He raised an eyebrow in Danny's direction, silently asking him what he thought.

"We'll think about it," Danny shrugged.

"So that's a 'no'," Stella grinned back, laughing as she shook her head. "No worries, I get it. It's New Year's Eve, a special holiday filled with special moments."

"Stella, leave your brother alone, please? And will you get up and get some more butter from the fridge?" Thank God for Clara Williams. As Stella rolled her eyes and marched for the fridge, knowing full well while she was chosen for the chore, Danny sent his mother a silent, grateful look and dipped his hand below the table, making to wipe it on his napkin but secretly giving Steve's leg a gentle squeeze. A foot being tapped against his by Steve was Danny's assurance that his partner was okay, and once Stella sat back down at the table, fresh butter stick on the tray, conversation resumed as if it hadn't stopped until there were clean plates all around.

"Danny, I'll pack some lasagna up so that you and Steve can take some with you back to your room," Clara stood up, taking her plate, Bridget's, and Stella's with her as Steve rose, following her lead. Ordinarily, Danny would've told Steve to leave it, that he was a guest, but Danny also knew that Steve may want the breather, and so he merely sat back and allowed his partner to gather up the rest of the plates and take them into the kitchen, where Clara was already rinsing off the dishes.

"Oh, Steven, honey, you don't have to bring me anything. You can go back out to the table with Danny and catch up with the girls and Eddie." Oddly enough, Clara's dulcet bambi like voice was rather soothing to Steve's nerves at the moment, so he shook his head and put the plates down on the counter next to the sink. Clara only smiled and nodded her head. "It can get to be a bit much out there for me too, sometimes. Come on," she gestured to him to stand on her right side. "I'll wash, you dry."

"You know," she continued, "even before I met you, Danny used to call home and complain about you all the time," Clara had the good grace to keep her voice down as she washed. "The first time he told me about you, he said he had a crazy partner that had an unhealthy obsession with all things lead, especially if it came flying out of a metal tube regardless of where it landed afterwards." She giggled. "That was the time he told me you'd gotten him shot."

"I'm – uh, I'm really sorry about that, actually," Steve mumbled, feeling his face grow hot.

"I'll admit I was a little worried after that, but every week or so, Danny would call with a new story about you and the work you and your team were doing, how important it was, but it wasn't as important as when he'd tell me that you were there for him all the time, no matter what. What you did for him and Grace when you two first met? Not just the tickets, but getting the Governor to play hardball with Rachel?"

"He told you about that?" Steve was outwardly surprised but smiling. "You know he never even told me how he found out it was me."

"He said something about eliminating suspects and coming up with the natural one being you. My little boy is a fantastic detective after all, isn't he?"

Steve couldn't help the soft look on his face. "He is," he agreed, taking a dish and drying it.

"He's always been good at figuring things out – at figuring people out," Clara continued, soaping up silverware and glasses, "he was never satisfied with just the surface. He always had to claw his way underneath, to the root of everything. He's never comfortable if he doesn't feel he has all the information, always on edge, constantly waiting for something bad to happen if he feels he's being left out of the loop or something." She sighed quietly. "He gets that from his father, you know? Eddie used to come home after a hard day, or a bad one especially if someone had gotten hurt or if they'd lost someone, and he'd always say, "I wish I'd known about this" or "I wish I'd known about that", as if him knowing someone had a headache would have made a difference when they had to answer a call."

"Yea, Danny… he definitely doesn't like being the last to know things." Steve glanced over his shoulder through the door way at the dinner table. Danny, his sisters, and Eddie were still sitting around it engaged in what seemed to be a boisterous conversation.

"Since he moved to Hawaii though, since he met you and joined Five-0, he hasn't been quite so negative. I don't know if he told you what he was like after Rachel left him, but I was really afraid he was… that he was going to do something, you know?" Clara looked at Steve, who nodded his head minutely. He did know. "Yea, he told me a little, but not a lot."

"Then Rachel took Grace and moved 6,000 miles away, taking my son and my granddaughter away from us, and he was so miserable, Steve. He was so alone, and lonely, and depressed. And then Five-0 came along, and you made him your partner, and bit by bit, his phone calls weren't so bitter or angry, and he stopped complaining so much – of course it's Danny, so he'll always whine about something," she laughed as she handed Steve another dish to dry. "But almost ten years later, he's happy. He's the Danny I remember before Rachel divorced him, and I think I – we – have you to thank for a lot of that."

Steve took a breath. "It's not all me, Clara," he begged off, "you know, Danny has lots of friends, the rest of our Ohana-"

"But it's mainly you." Clara turned and slid both hands onto Steve's cheeks. "I know my son, Steve. I know him when he's furious and sad, I know him when he's happy, and I know him when he's head over heels in love." She ignored the man's fast flushing face. "I know you're both finding your way with each other right now, and I want you to know that no matter what happens, I love you both very much. I know the girls are teasing you a little bit and that Eddie hasn't said much either way, but even if Danny hasn't said it yet, I know he loves you – and in this family, that is good enough for us. It's a little unexpected," she giggled again, that light, airy laugh that made her sound flirtatious and 20 years younger, "but if we're surprised by it, then I know when you two must have realized what you were feeling, it must have hit you like a ton of bricks."

Steve could only mutter a dumb sounding 'yea' in answer to the woman's soliloquy. It was a lot to take in; Steve couldn't deny the yearning he had to have this conversation with his own mother. But that was impossible. He actually missed the perfumed warmth of Clara's hands as they slid away from his cheeks. "Now. You're nice and tall – reach up into the cupboard and get some Tupperware down for me so I can pack up some left overs for you and Danny to take with you." And that was it. She patted his shoulder and stepped back towards the food prep counter where the rest of the lasagna sat, seemingly unaware of the relief she'd given Steve just by saying what she'd said. Danny's family would be supportive – were supportive now – of Steve and Danny, and whatever decision about their relationship they made. Shaking his head, he tugged a container down as requested and placed it on the counter. "Mrs. Williams?"

"Steven, really," the older woman gave him a look that was understanding and chiding all at once, "the neighborhood children call me Mrs. Williams – to you, it's Clara, or even 'Mom' if you want."

The man grinned and stepped forward, pulling her into a hug, mindful of his strength – the last thing he wanted to do was break Danny's mom. "Thank you," was all he said, and it seemed that was all he needed to say. Clara only nodded, sighing forlornly. "It's times like these that I wish I were a few years younger." She laughed as Steve stepped back, ears instantly turning pink. "Just teasing. Now, you go on out into the dining room; I'll bring out dessert."

Like a good boy, Steve did as he was told.

Hawaii Five-0

It was late before the boys finally left Danny's parents' house, laden down with lasagna, bread, salad, and extra pie as only a good mother could force on two 'growing boys' as she called them. Danny reminded her that they were indeed turning 43 the next year, but she just waved him out the door, a serene smile on her face. "You'll always be my growing boy, honey; and you too, Steve. Call us when you get in!"

Now, as they were driving back to the hotel, Steve let Clara's words wash over him. It was a strange feeling, to have support from a family unit. Was this what Danny had grown up with his entire life? Of course it was, it was written all over his partner, showed in how Danny raised his own two children, in how he insisted on Steve being in Grace and Charlie's lives. Having a family was an effortless thing for Danny, having support expected rather than hoped for.

"You okay?"

"Yea, Danny," Steve nodded, "I'm okay. I feel like a stuffed turkey, but I'm okay." He grinned and patted his stomach. "I might take a swim tonight – pretty sure your mom made me put on twenty pounds from dinner."

"I don't think my mom made you take seconds on the lasagna," Danny chuckled, turning into the hotel parking lot and finding a spot. Steve grabbed the bag of food and Danny took the Hardrock shirt Steve had bought for him earlier in the day, and they made their way up to the room, each man gratefully falling on to his bed, happily laying like sloths. After about ten minutes, Danny's muffled voice filtered through the pillow. "You going to swim?"

"I don't think I could do a crawl stroke right now if I tried," Steve admitted.

"Not even to come over here?"

Steve paused, giving that the consideration it was due. "Why don't you come over here?"

"Because I asked you first."

The SEAL gave a good-natured groan of imposition but none the less crawled (yes, literally crawled, much to Danny's amusement) to his partner's bed, laying down beside him with about a foot of space in between them. "Better?"

Danny nodded and closed his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. Steve decided that he liked this side of Danny, this side that was open and seeking and welcome of affection, that told Steve it was okay to lay next to him, to be beside him, that it wasn't asking too much. He studied Danny's face, so blissfully content with where he was currently. Steve liked it. He wanted to see it as often as possible.

"Why're you staring?" Blue eyes blinked at him, crows feet playfully crinkling at the edges and adding to the blonde's easy-going, almost happy look. Steve shrugged. "I'm happy," he answered quietly.

"Yea?"

"Mhm."

"…Talking to my mom for that long actually made you happy?"

"Yes, Daniel, it actually did."

"Why?"

"She said no matter what we decided to do that she and your family would support us." Steve kicked his shoes off; if he were at home, he'd pick them up and put them away, but that would mean leaving Danny's side and Steve, quite frankly, just didn't feel like doing that. "That was… nice, you know?" He felt Danny's hand slip towards his, felt him tangle his fingers into Steve's, and asked gently, "Were you afraid they wouldn't?"

"A little? No, I'm not sure." Steve squirmed a little closer towards Danny. "My father's dead, Doris comes and goes as she pleases…"

"And Joe?" Danny pressed lightly, rubbing a thumb along Steve's hand, and he saw it, saw Steve preparing to make light of his question, of what Joe's opinion really meant to him. Danny wouldn't be pushed off so easily. "I know what he thinks means a lot to you, babe; don't pretend otherwise, okay?"

"I haven't told him," Steve admitted.

"I didn't think you had." Danny searched the other man's face, making sure his voice was kind when he asked, "are you afraid to?" He gave Steve the time he needed to answer, knowing it was an awkward, difficult question. He was just about to tell his partner he didn't have to answer when Steve spoke. "Yes and no. I don't think he'd have a problem that it's two men, but that it's two men on the same team."

"Don't Ask, Don't Tell had its faults," Steve continued, watching as Danny's thumb slowly comforted his hand non-stop, "no doubt that some people in D.C. and the military brass had it put in place because they just didn't like gay people. But for all of that, the fact remains that if you put a bunch of people in a platoon together who are in relationships and sleeping with each other, and then put them all in a combat zone, the odds of them coming out of it alive are decreased, and that's the case no matter if its men or women." Danny was nodding his head along, understanding exactly what Steve was saying.

"Joe'll think that we'll be putting ourselves in more danger if we start something, yea?"

"Yea," Steve swallowed. "I'm afraid he'll try to talk me out of it – out of us. And I'll tell him no, and he'll be disappointed. I don't…"

"Want to disappoint him?" Danny finished, and Steve hated it, but he nodded. "I know he's done a lot of lying in the past, Danny. I know he'll never tell me everything; asking him a question is like playing roulette – even if I hit the right number, it's blacks or reds that he'd give me a straight answer. But he's… you know, he's…"

"Really the only father you've had since you were 16. I get it, Steve. I do." Danny shifted closer towards his partner, not breaking his hold on Steve's hand, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just need to know if you still want to move forward before we get any further into this thing, you know? I gotta know because when I sit down and tell Grace and Charlie that me and their Uncle Steve are giving this a try, they have to know that we're solid, Grace especially. I don't want to put her through another break up where she has to lose someone that she looks at like a second dad. She's seen too much, Steve, you know? Way too much, and a lot of that is my fault, and I can't do that to her again."

Steve almost recoiled. Almost. "I'd never do anything to hurt her, Danny; her or Charlie." His voice was hoarse with emotion, and Danny shushed him, nuzzling his nose against Steve's own. "I know, babe. I know. But think about it, okay? Really think about it, about what you want – not what Joe wants or even what I want – just what you want. You're allowed to want what you want, Steven. You are; okay?"

Danny wished John and Doris McGarrett were alive and around, respectively, so that he could strangle them each for the look of doubt and confusion that was now on Steve's face, for them abandoning their kids, for not bothering to teach their son and daughter that they were worthy of love and affection, of someone staying for them just because they were them.

"Danny…are you having… I mean, do you not want-"

"I do, babe, I do. Very much, I want. I want this very much," Danny nuzzled him again reassuringly, "but when you love someone, it's not about what just one person wants. It has to be about what they both want – you're part of the both, Steve, so it matters just as much what you want." He watched Steve watching him, and Danny realized that he was being studied. Steve was analyzing and assessing him as if he were a high value target, and Danny let him, waited him out. When Steve lifted his body and pressed Danny gently into the mattress on his back, Danny didn't fight it. Instead, he tightened his grip on his partner's hand, his right to Steve's left, and settled his other arm loosely around the SEAL's lower back as Steve hovered over him.

The first brush of Steve's lips against Danny's was intimate, shy, unpracticed, even slightly uncertain, but soft pecks turned longer and fuller, and Danny lifted a leg and wrapped it around one of Steve's, hauling him closer, and suddenly uncertain turned into very sure. Steve's initial nervousness rerouted into carefully contained desire as his lips left Danny's to kiss a trail down his cheek, to his ear, and the lining of his jaw, following the natural path until Steve had marked the opposite side of Danny's face with his mouth in just the same way. Only then did Steve pull back and look down at the man partially pinned beneath him.

Danny, whose eyes were a dark blue, half lidded, blinking slowly up at him, whose lips were pink and parted and waiting for the match they'd found to press back against and fumble with. Danny, whose fingers were softly caressing Steve's lower back, just at the base of the spine, which sent sparks of warmth though out Steve's body. "I want this," Steve breathed, so quietly that Danny had to strain to hear him over the beating of his own heart. "I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of second guessing myself. I'm tired of being alone and being afraid I always will be – I don't want that, Danny. I want you – all of you; your crazy family in Jersey, the kids, Five-0, your bad knee, your claustrophobia, all of it. I've gotten this far with you, Danno," Steve dropped a kiss at the base of the other man's throat. "I couldn't go back now if I tried."

Danny let out a breath and lifted his head, pressing a firm, grateful kiss against Steve's forehead while tightening his limbs around his partner's body, his own fears abating just a bit as he lay safe and warm underneath Steve's body. "Okay, babe," he whispered softly, carding fingers through short brown hair. "Okay."