Title: Ties, Aneurysm Faces And, God Forbid, Feelings

Author: thewhiterose3

Pairing: Danny/Steve, slash

Disclaimer: Not mine. I only wish they were.

Rating: M

A/N: For those of you just coming to this story, the rating goes up from my previous three chapters as I have finally finally gotten a little daring and written the long overdue smutty chapter. A thank you to everyone who has stuck with my story and especially those of you who have commented. I truly appreciate your support. And thanks again to my lovely sister who beta'd the story for me.

There are two smallish problems with Danny leaning back to give Steve better access to worship his now exposed throat, neck, and chest, though Steve is loathe to admit them. The first is that the farther back Danny leans, the farther away he is from Steve. No matter how good it feels when the motion presses their lower halves more securely together, this is not helpful in Steve's current plan to map Danny's chest with his tongue, to find all of the spots that make Danny writhe and moan. The second is that since Danny is no longer the one pressed against the wall, this position cannot be good for Danny's knee.

Steve knows these things but is trying really really hard to ignore them because he's actually touching Danny. Touching Danny like he's always wanted to but never dared let himself desire. And Danny's not complaining if the way he's gripping the hollows of Steve's hips and holding them like a lifeline are any indication.

But then Danny's warm hands retreat from under the edge of Steve's shirt as Danny takes a step back breaking all contact except for their locked gazes. And when Danny starts bending down in front of him, Steve immediately has two diametrically opposed reactions. First is holy shit, no because it can't be over already and Danny's clothes are down there and he'll need to put his shirt back on if he's going to leave. And no, please, gods no. Because he's not sure he can go back now. It's all too big, too much to stuff back inside, tamp down. And Danny's not saying anything and that's terrifying because if Danny just walked out now without saying anything, then Steve might just cry and fuck SEALs do not cry.

But Danny's gaze doesn't say that he's leaving. It is simply assessing Steve, cataloguing his reactions, pupils still blown wide with lust. And that's when the second reaction pushes the first to the side because when Danny balances on his good knee, he is in perfect alignment with Steve's cock. And Steve is suddenly absolutely certain that Danny's linguistic aptitude will not be the only way in which Danny's mouth is proficient.

But Danny isn't lingering at the bulge in Steve's pants either. He's standing back up with an amused glint in his eye.

"Number one, you're an idiot. Calm the fuck down. I'm not going anywhere. And second, later if you're good, but not here."

Before Steve can respond to Danny's mind reading ability, Danny's capturing his lips again, reaching up to wrap his arms around Steve's neck, or that's what Steve thought. It turns out that Danny's a sneaky bastard because Danny's tie is now around Steve's neck with Danny still gripping the ends in one hand taking slow deliberate steps backwards.

"Because I've heard tell that you own a piece of furniture perfectly situated for instances such as this one."

Steve responds with a growl and a lunge, pinning Danny against a different wall, pressing open mouthed kisses to Danny's shoulders.

"You couldn't just say bed? You had to use nineteen, nineteen fucking words?"

"Fuck, Steve," Danny pants. "You can still count? I'll have to work on that."

Danny then proceeds to open the button of Steve's cargo shorts, reaching in and stroking Steve's length.

"Shit, Danny," Steve moans. But Danny doesn't continue. Instead, his hand retreats and Danny ducks under a distracted Steve's arm and continues pulling him toward the bedroom via his tie around Steve's neck.

"You are a fucking tease, Danno."

Steve was going for threatening, reminiscent of retribution, but he only managed breathless and more than a little needy. And then they were entering his bedroom with the newly clean sheets and the lube in the left hand drawer. This was really happening. He was really going to have sex with Danny. Make love to, with Danny. Because Danny loves him. Responsible, devoted Danny Williams was in love with you'd need a tractor trailer just to carry his baggage Steve McGarrett.

But Steve's not the only one who seems stalled and a more than a little in awe right now. Because Steve's cargo shorts have now pooled on the floor, quickly followed by his boxers and when Steve takes his shirt off leaving only Danny's tie, Danny looks like a kid at Christmas. Like the kid who asked for the brand new bike but never really believed he'd get it. And now that he sees it under the tree, all shiny and new and his, he keeps rubbing his eyes because he's totally not convinced that this isn't a dream.

And that knowledge, that Danny is just as freaked out in a good way as he is, is insanely comforting and takes the sheer urgency of it all down just a notch. Steve decides that since Danny's done most of the work getting them here, it's his turn to man up now. So, he steps out of his cargos and towards Danny, catching him up in an exploratory kiss, slow and deep. Steve pushes a for-once compliant Danny down onto his bed, breaking the kiss only to travel down Danny's body, stripping him as he goes.

But a tousled Danny is still Danny so as soon as Steve releases his lips, he's talking again. Well, rasping actually.

"You're in charge, now? Who died and made you king?"

Danny talks a big game, but he's still lifting his hips up helpfully and arching into every barely-there touch as Steve works his way back up Danny's naked body.

"Let me, this time, just let me," Steve is just short of begging and he's not even sure what for. But then he notices Danny's tie lying on the bed where it had fallen off his neck and yes. Just, yes.

Kissing his way up Danny's body, Steve runs his hands up Danny's muscled arms and in a move that he's sure Danny will blame on his SEAL training, secures Danny's hands together above his head. Steve cannot stop himself from stepping away, standing up and pausing to drink in the sight of a naked wanton Danny spread out before him, breathing jagged, heat in his eyes.

"Is this a power game, really? Its just common courtesy, no super powers in the bedroom. We mere mortals don't have years of stealth training, Commander."

"No," just no. That was Catherine's bedroom name for Steve. Not here. Not with Danny where he doesn't have to be anyone else but Steve. And that is the amazing part, Steve isn't in charge. He isn't the commanding officer. He doesn't have to be anyone but himself.

Steve crawls up Danny's prone form with all the grace of a fighter and continues his quest to map Danny's body with his hands and mouth. Steve starts with the already purpling mark at the base of Danny's throat, swiping his tongue over it a few times just to savor Danny's involuntary shudder. But Steve's so distracted by having Danny displayed before him that he doesn't realize that Danny is still talking.

"Steve. Steve. Not that I'm complaining about your ah dedication, but why, why am I not allowed to touch you?"

"Please, Danno. Next time, next time we'll do it your way. Just, let me. Let me."

And maybe it's the barely hidden desperation in Steve's voice and maybe it's the way Steve has moved on to Danny's nipples, laving his tongue over one while worshipping the other with his hand, but Danny acquiesces with a moan.

"Okay, fuck, okay, babe."

Steve rewards Danny's compliance with a real, honest to god, smile before he turns his attention back to his mission of finding every spot that makes Danny light up.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," Danny mumbles turning into a gasp when Steve traces his obliques with is tongue.

Steve smiles against Danny's surprisingly muscled stomach as he sucks on a spot just to the right of Danny's belly button causing Danny to shudder and arch up into the contact.

Danny is every bit as responsive as he'd hoped; now he just has to get him past words, past thought, past any doubts he might have. Steve has a plan, maybe if he can keep away all of the reasons why they shouldn't work, maybe he can keep Danny. Maybe if he can stop Danny from thinking, he'll stay.

So Steve bypasses Danny's beautiful erect cock, pressing open mouthed kisses down the inside of his thighs, hands spanning them. Steve pays special attention to Danny's bum knee, licking the underside, biting gently, offering up apologies for being the cause of its pain. Moving down, Steve massages Danny's calves and feet until Danny lets out a low moan of gratitude. With Danny very nearly incoherent, Steve climbs back up Danny's nearly limp body to breathe over Danny's cock. At the renewed attention, Danny's eyes snap open and Steve's breath catches at the lust he sees there.

"Fuck, Steve. Please."

This is the Danny that Steve wanted, flushed and desperate, and he can't help but be a little bit smug so he accompanies his taunts with blowing lightly down the length of Danny's cock.

"Please what, Daniel? You're always telling me to use my words."

Danny attempts a glare but can't hold it when he's this desperate. This desperate for Steve and holy shit, that's rush.

"Anything, just. Shit, Steve. Please, bastard. Please."

Then Danny goes completely pre-verbal when Steve leans down and licks a stripe up the length of Danny's cock before taking the head in his mouth. Steve sucks on the head before taking in as much of Danny's cock as his gag reflex will allow, his hand making up the difference.

And shit, the weight and feel of Danny's cock in his mouth is new and wonderful and the sounds Danny's making are better than the ones Steve never let himself admit that he'd imagined. He groans around Danny's cock at the realization that he's doing this to Danny, he's brought Danny to such heights that he no longer has words.

Danny's moans are getting higher in pitch as Steve continues to add suction, trying to do everything that he's ever loved in a blowjob. It must work because the next thing Steve knows, Danny is yelling his name and coming in his mouth. Steve swallows as much as he can before releasing Danny's cock, but not before kissing the head one last time. His jaw aches, but it's a pleasant ache, reminding him that he just did that, he just brought Danny off with his mouth.

Catching his breath, Steve looks up at Danny. His eyes are closed and he's still panting. Hands still trussed up. And Danny, Danny is beautiful, tension gone, spilled out loose over Steve's bed. And the rush of arousal and affection makes Steve remember his own cock. Steve unconsciously reaches down to relieve the ache, when Danny's wrecked voice stills him.

"Steve, Steven, don't you dare. Untie me. Now."

Steve's hand is centimeters from his own aching cock but Danny's tone stops him and he immediately complies with Danny's request. Without pausing to even rub the feeling back into his hands, Danny reaches forward, blanketing Steve's body with his own and taking Steve's face in his hands, capturing Steve's lips in a kiss that leaves them both breathless and Steve arching and pleading for friction, pressure, anything.

"Danno, please. Please," Steve begs, then lets out an involuntary whine when Danny rolls to his side and props his head up on one elbow.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been imagining this, wanting you," Danny begins as he reaches toward Steve's leaking cock. "Do you know what my favorite fantasy is, Steve?" Danny's hand loosely grips Steve's cock, pumping maddeningly slowly before he lets go entirely to ghost his fingertips over the sensitive head, only to resume the slow pumping, all the while still talking.

Danny keeps his eyes locked with Steve's as he continues. "My favorite fantasy is when I get to take my time with you. Lay you out, strip you down, make you come apart, leave behind your precious fucking control all because of little ol' me. And you're gorgeous, Steve. Absolutely fucking gorgeous, not touching, just taking it just because I told you to. You never listen to me, but when you do, holy shit is it a rush. You make me crazy, you know that?"

Steve is panting, flushed, eyes blown wide with lust, because holy fuck the look in Danny's eyes tells him everything, absolutely fucking everything. He'd swear that the answers to all of the questions of the universe are in there somewhere. All of that energy, attention to detail is focused solely on him and its addicting. Danny's hand is nowhere near tight or fast enough, but mother of fuck, Steve thinks he might be able to come solely from that voice. Any further thought is derailed when Danny's voice lowers another octave and his hand correspondingly tightens and speeds up.

"But I wouldn't be able to tease you for long, I've wanted too much for too long. I'd have to taste you, turn you over and open you up with my mouth, get you ready for me."

And Steve wants that, he's right there, right there on the edge, arching into Danny's hand. He been reduced to whimpering before Danny even began talking and all he needs is a little more.

"Danno," Steve begs.

"That's it, I'd have you begging for my cock and how could I resist that ass? I can't, I can't, Steve," and Danny sounds nearly as broken as Steve feels right now. "I'd have to fuck you, press you down in the mattress, until you're like this, begging and beautiful and incoherent, until the only thing you remember is my name."

Voice cracking, eyes shining with so much more than lust, Danny leans down and takes the head of Steve's cock in his mouth. Steve explodes, sensation coursing through every cell as light explodes behind his eyes. All he can feel is Danny, Danny's hands and mouth on his cock, Danny's eyes on him, Danny's words surrounding him. Danny's name somewhere in the strangled shout that rips from his throat.

When Steve comes back to himself, Danny's head is on his shoulder and his fingers are stroking Steve's stomach. He can feel the giant goofy grin on his face as he presses a kiss to Danny's forehead.

"I'm going to hold you to that, you know," Steve mumbles into Danny's skin.

Danny nuzzles further into the warmth of Steve's body, but doesn't respond. And that lack of answer, lack of words tenses something in Steve's gut. What if it was all just words, just talk, not real, what if Danny didn't really mean it, what if he wakes up and Danny's not there?

It turns out that Steve's gut wasn't the only thing tensing and Danny responds to Steve's internal freak out before Steve can either voice or repress and internalize it.

"Idiot," Danny chastises fondly, crawling up Steve's body until they are face to face. Danny kisses the tense line of Steve's mouth until it relaxes. "What part of me not touching you until you admitted that you had feelings, didn't you understand?"

"The feelings part," Steve grimaces into the word, but visibly relaxes into Danny's kisses, becoming the blissed-out pile of goo that he was previously impersonating.

"You're a moron with the emotional capacity of a goldfish, but you're my moron," Danny insists as he and pulls up Steve's sheets and makes himself comfortable against Steve's larger frame. "You got that?"

"Yeah, Danno," Steve agrees as he finally succumbs to the warmth and comfort and safety he feels in Danny's arms. "Love you."

He can feel Danny's smile and kiss against his shoulder as he too lets sleep overtake him.

"Love you too, freak."