Disclaimer: See initial chapter.
A/N: I did mention that there was slashiness at the end, right? A reminder, this was supposed to be a single shot of pure crack, therefore it doesn't necessarily follow all of the conventions of regular stories, so please don't hate, or judge too harshly for 'plot' and normality. The plot has been overtaken by rabid alien rabbits, or something like that.
After being unceremoniously spit out of the place Danny had dubbed, 'the Candy Land from Hell,' and back into the thick of a gunfight, Danny's toy soldier injuries - which had unfortunately followed him into the 'real world' - had been easily explained away. They'd counted it as a small blessing.
Steve, as it turned out (unsurprisingly to hear Danny talk of it, even months later) had not come out of the fracas unscathed. It had only been a flesh wound, but the placement of said 'flesh wound' made it difficult for Steve to sit down without a cushion for several weeks.
Not that Steve was sitting much. He was by Danny's side throughout his week-long stay in the hospital. There had been minor internal damage, and surgery hadn't been required, but the doctors had wanted to keep Danny under observation.
The shoulder wound was easy to deal with and hadn't required much more than stitches. Apparently Chin and Kono's patch up job within the gingerbread house had done him some good, and the wound hadn't gotten infected. Danny did have months of physical therapy to look forward to, before he was back to 'normal'.
As far as Danny was concerned, he was back to normal, not being a gingerbread cookie with gumdrop buttons and icing for eyes was pretty normal in the grand scheme of things. Steve was no longer two dimensional either, which was a definite plus.
"Danno, you almost done in there?" Steve called through the bathroom door, breaking in on Danny's thoughts. Another wonderful thing that he'd gotten out of the whole gingerbread mayhem was Steve...though perhaps he'd had him all along and hadn't realized it until they'd been put into such a bizarre situation.
Danny scowled at his reflection in the mirror and wiped the remnants of the shaving cream from his chin. This whole relationship with Steve was still a little new, though to hear Kono talk about it, he and Steve had been deluding themselves for years, and the 'gingerbread' incident was just the push in the right direction that they needed.
Slogging through fields of marshmallow fluff while dodging bullets from toy soldiers' weapons was not very romantic, though Steve offering up his red hot heart was. Just a little. It was also a macho, super SEAL, man of steel, nothing can best me, move on Steve's part.
'Rambo on steroids,' Danny thought, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when the object of his thoughts burst in through the bathroom door and started patting him down. Steve turned him around so that they were facing each other.
Steve's eyes were deep, cobalt blue, stormy as the ocean as they raked over Danny, resting on the scar that was just above his belly button. Precisely, if Danny was not mistaken, where the gumdrop button had been when he'd been a gingerbread cookie. Or at least that's how Danny had explained the odd, lopsided heart-shaped scar on his stomach.
He liked to think, when he spent time thinking of the incident (not often, because he wasn't obsessive, no matter what Kono said to the contrary) that the scar was heart-shaped because of the red hot that Steve had taken from his own gingerbread body and affixed to Danny's.
It hadn't by any means been the most selfless act that Steve had performed for Danny over the years, and Danny doubted that it would be the man's last, but at the time it felt as though something inside of Danny had shifted. Steve had, in a way, symbolically given Danny his heart - the same one he often wore on his sleeve - and in turn, Danny had given Steve his, just not in so many words, even though words were his forte.
Steve searched Danny's eyes, and Danny rolled his; he could feel Steve's breath on his collarbone. His heart was racing, as it often did when Steve looked at him with such intensity, and his mouth was dryer than his Grandma Williams' roast turkey on Christmas(not that he'd ever tell her; he wanted to live a very long life).
Steve had Danny, probably without any real thought behind it, pinned against the counter, boxer-clad hips nearly flush with Danny's. His thumb was tracing the outer edge of the scar, raising gooseflesh on Danny's skin, and making him breathe as though he was sipping at the air.
"I, uh..." Danny felt dizzy. "Uh, I was almost finished." He nearly choked on his words when the thumb Steve had been using to trace the scar on Danny's stomach was applied to a different, much more sensitive and responsive, portion of Danny's anatomy.
Danny's breath stuttered, and his heart nearly plummeted to his stomach when Steve started to stroke him, and pressed his lips to Danny's in a tender, yet passionate kiss. Steve's eyes were no longer a stormy blue, but a subtle shade of green that nearly drowned out the blue. Steve's eyes were sometimes as changeable as the weather, one of the many things that Danny loved about the man.
"'How do I love thee, let me count the ways...'" Danny rambled, words swallowed in the kiss, hands latched onto Steve's shoulders as the man's hands and lips and body rendered him increasingly senseless.
His nerves were on fire. Electricity sparked wherever Steve touched him.
"You love me?" Steve asked, lips brushing against Danny's as he continued to rut against Danny, now expertly handling the both of them with hands that were as capable of dealing a death blow as they were of blowing Danny's mind.
Unable to speak, Danny grunted, jerked in Steve's hands. He nipped at Steve's lips, dug his fingers into the man's hair and closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the moment, the movement, in Steve and his hands, his lips, his perfect, perfect body and the little happy noises that he made as they fucked. Danny knew that he was making noises of his own, didn't try to muffle them, or stifle the cry that was rent from him when he came.
"Fuck," Danny breathed out, leaning against Steve, forehead pressed to Steve's as he struggled to regain his bearings, get his breathing and his heart under some semblance of control. Tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he'd just declared, albeit in a literary fashion, his love for Steve.
'Fitting,' Danny thought. 'Life is turning out to be one big, twisted fairytale after another.'
"I'll take that as a, yes," Steve murmured, lips lingering on Danny's.
"Yes, alright, Steven, I, Danny Williams, love you." Danny rolled his eyes at the goofy smile that met his confession.
"Happy?" Danny asked, thinking back to when Steve had been a Rambo-fied gingerbread cookie.
Steve thumbed Danny's clean-shaven jaw and claimed his mouth in a heated kiss that made Danny's toes go numb.
"Yes, Danny, I like." Steve's voice was wrecked. "I love you too."
Danny could've said something trite, like, 'I know you do, you big goofball.' Instead, he drew Steve closer, and sealed their love with a kiss that left the both of them reeling. If they had been gingerbread men now, their eyes would've been shaped like little hearts. Not that Danny misses that time. He doesn't. Nor does he regret any of it, because, in some weird way, it had brought him to this.
I'm contemplating fleshing out the idea that Maui and Lono broached in chapter four, the Five-0 crew as guardians of Hawaii, and would like to know if there is interest in a story where Steve, Danny, Chin, and Kono become demigods or some such thing. Who knows how the muse will approach this plot idea? Anyway, just thought I'd ask. Also, was the end a complete wash?