"Just imagine what that lady would say if she came back now," Danny joked, and Steve took it to mean that the moment was over. He left Danny's arms reluctantly and did his best to tamp down the dizzying mix of emotions in his stomach.
"Yeah, right," he replied, smiling weakly. He put some distance between his body and Danny's, the creaking plastic cover betraying his attempt at subtlety. If Danny noticed, he didn't react.
"Can you imagine us as a couple?" Danny asked, shaking his head as though the idea was preposterous. "We'd fight every second of the day."
Steve forced a laugh, hoping Danny wasn't looking for a verbal response. The cocktail of feeling in his stomach was quickly souring. Honestly, he could imagine them as a couple. Waking up in the same bed, bickering on the way to work, watching Danny cook dinner.
Steve derailed that train of thought as quickly as he could it. It wasn't going to help him any.
"Besides, I'm sure I'm not your type," Danny continued neutrally, slinging one of his arms across the back of the sofa.
"What do you mean?" Steve asked suspiciously.
"Well, I'm no Catherine," he said, as though stating the obvious.
"Danny –" Steve said abruptly, sitting up straighter.
"It's alright, babe. You don't have to protect my feelings." Danny released a breathy laugh, which Steve instantly recognized as fake.
"I'm not," Steve protested hotly. "Danny. You're totally in Catherine's league."
"What are you saying, Steven?" Danny asked slowly. His cheeks were tinted pink.
Steve inhaled deeply. What he wanted to say couldn't be taken back. It was risky. But he wasn't a SEAL for nothing. "I'm attracted to you."
Danny's breathing quickened and his pupils dilated. Steve could see the loose collar of Danny's shirt fluttering. Seeing the effect he was having on Danny instantly turned Steve on.
"I see I don't have to ask you the same question," Steve smirked, confidence rushing back.
"Shut up," Danny rasped, and cupped Steve's face with his palm.
The simmering heat in Steve's gut turned to flame as he returned Danny's kiss. It was as passionate as any of their arguments, a back-and-forth, a push-and-pull. Smooth lips and hard teeth and hot tongues. Steve placed a hand on Danny's knee, ran it up his thigh and over his hip. Danny's leg jumped as he arched into the touch.
"Steve, wait," he mumbled half-heartedly. Steve's hand found its way to Danny's stomach, began fumbling with the tiny plastic buttons. It was only when Danny's fingers latched onto his wrist that the words began to seep in.
"Danny?" he asked, puzzled. He knew Danny wanted this just as much as he did.
"Still on duty," the detective rasped.
"Right," Steve said, suddenly remember he was sitting on a plastic-covered sofa. They were . . . surveilling suspects. He ran his hands over his face, trying to clear some of the lust from his brain.
He looked over to Danny – hair tousled, lips swollen – and had to withhold a groan. "Sorry," he mumbled, looking away again. "I, uh, forgot."
Danny laughed loosely. "Were you going to take me right here, McGarrett? Could you at least buy me dinner first?"
Steve tried to ignore the first question – for now. "Are you asking me out, Danno?" he smiled, making eye contact with Danny.
"No, I'm asking you to ask me out, you goof," Danny said fondly, squeezing Steve's leg.
Steve rolled his eyes, though he suspected the effect was ruined by the smile he couldn't get rid of. "Danny Williams, will you go out with me?"
Danny reached for Steve's hand and sweetly laced their fingers together. Steve's heart thumped, hard.
"Yes," Danny said. "Finally."
