Danny popped the cap off his first beer and took a sip. It had been a stressful week, between cases and tense communication with Rachel, and he was grateful to be here with his chosen ohana.
"Here" was a hip new bar in downtown Honolulu. It wasn't really Danny's scene; dark, smoky, and filled with too many twenty-somethings well on their way to becoming absolutely wasted. But it was hard to pass up an opportunity to spend time with Steve and his friends, so here he was. At least the beer was good.
Chin and Kono left to get more drinks, leaving Lou and Steve sitting across from Danny in the booth. A new song began, and Danny felt the bass thudding against the inside of his skull. Lou spoke then, his words inaudible over the music. But Steve grinned at his suggestion, and Danny knew, he knew, that Steve was about to do something stupid.
Steve slid out of the plush leather booth and stood over Danny. "Dance with me, Danno?" he asked, offering Danny his hand.
Danny looked at him as though Steve had finally lost his marbles. One too many close-range explosions, he thought.
"I'm not dancing, you goof," he said, ignoring the flutter in his stomach. The only reason Steve would ask him to dance was so he could tease Danny about it later.
"Have it your way," Steve said lightheartedly, and sat down again. Danny ignored the sticky feeling in his stomach and decided to forget about the whole exchange.
After a couple of hours, the group of friends said goodnight and left the bar for their respective homes. Steve and Danny had arrived together, so he had to stop by Steve's house to drop his partner off. Rather, Steve was dropping himself off, as he insisted on driving.
Danny leaned back into the Camaro's passenger seat. He'd rolled down the window slightly, and the cool, dark air brushed over his face. He'd never admit it, but he was a little relieved that Steve was driving. He was exhausted and still a little tipsy. His eyes fluttered shut, blissfully unaware of Steve's contemplative expression.
When the Camaro rolled to a stop at Steve's house, he reluctantly opened his eyes. In an attempt to wake himself up, he knotted his fingers together for a short, unsatisfying stretch. Then Danny felt Steve's eyes on his face, direct and intense. He felt prickles of a long-forgotten feeling creep across his skin.
"Is something wrong, babe?" The words came out sluggishly, but Danny felt adrenaline push aside the sleepiness.
Steve was silent for a moment. Danny saw a glimmer in the moonlight, and realized Steve was pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.
Danny swallowed, hard.
"How come you wouldn't dance with me?"
"Is that what this is all about?" Danny asked, and relaxed slightly.
"Well, I don't see what your problem is. Do people not dance in Jersey?"
"People dance – I don't dance. Not publicly."
"Will you dance now? We're not in public anymore."
"What? Why would I dance now?"
"To prove that you can."
"You don't think I can dance?" Danny asked incredulously, now fully invested in winning this argument. "C'mon, McGarrett, get inside. Maybe I'll teach you something."
They bickered back and forth as they entered Steve's house. It was dark and still inside, as if the house itself was slumbering. The only light came from the moonlight bouncing off the ocean, until Steve flicked on a lamp in the sitting room.
"Let's see what you got, Danno," Steve challenged, holding out his hand. His eyes were dark in the dim light, and inexplicably, Danny's heart skipped a beat. He took Steve's hand, still riding the wave of his alcohol-induced buzz and their argument. He didn't think about what he was doing, or why.
"Music?" Danny prompted Steve, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Steve rumbled, fumbling for his phone. He didn't let go of Danny's hand.
Strangely, when Steve set his phone down on the coffee table, a slow song trickled out. Danny recognized the beginning, but he couldn't quite remember its name. Steve pulled him closer and wrapped his free arm around the detective's waist. Danny tipped his head back to maintain eye contact. Steve's face had never looked so familiar or so alien than in that moment. It was half-lit by the warm glow of the lamp, and half by the stark moonlight.
Ignoring the pounding of his heart, he settled his hand on the back of Steve's neck, cradling him, almost. Steve held him more snuggly, and Danny's spine immediately curved inwards for maximum contact. Now it was uncomfortable to look up, so Danny rested his temple against Steve's jaw, felt the rasp of growing hairs. Steve led, though they were not so much dancing as swaying from side to side. A little voice in his head told him he was being stupid, he was ruining their work relationship, and even worse, their friendship. Danny didn't care. Steve felt good like this, in Danny's arms. Safe from bullets and stupid ideas and heartbreakers from Naval Intelligence. In that moment, Steve wasn't being pulled in a hundred different directions; he was Danny's alone.
The song ended too soon, and although Steve stilled, he didn't step away. "Babe," Danny breathed, and blushed. Danny Williams had never blushed a day in his life.
Steve groaned, low in his throat, and it was the hottest sound Danny had ever heard. Before he could properly respond, Steve kissed him.
Steve's mouth was hot and forceful. Danny gasped, and Steve took the opportunity to slip his tongue into Danny's mouth, seeking dominance. For once, Danny didn't fight him for it; instead, ran his hands up Steve's shoulders, held onto his neck. Emotions poured out of him, like a key turning a lock, or a waterfall spilling out of a drinking glass. How had he wanted this for so long and never acted on it?
Steve pushed him into the nearest wall and slipped a knee between his legs. Danny felt warm and aching everywhere, felt his blood throbbing inside his veins. "Steve," he gasped, in the split second between devouring kisses.
"Yes?" Steve mumbled, pressing his nose into Danny's neck.
"I've changed my mind about dancing."
"Oh, yeah?" Steve smirked, running his tongue along his teeth.
"Shut up," he said, and pulled Steve into another soul-melting kiss.