I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: I love everyone's "love" - thanks for supporting this 'verse' which the muse doesn't seem to want to let go quite yet. Phoebe - thanks for helping on 'your story' too :-)

H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O

"He loves you, you know."

From where he sat in the passenger seat of the car, Steve shook his head in awe as he gave Danny a side-long glance. Steve had been stunned by Danny's quick departure from the exam room and when he'd returned, he'd been better but generally quiet. In between and according to Doctor Morris, Danny's hasty retreat had everything to do with love. Evidently, so did his ongoing reticence to speak.

"Do you understand that he thought the worst? He thought the worst ... and now, he's trying to process the best."

Morris's words echoed on and Steve made a face. How'd he missed all that when he, of all people, should have known better? Danny 'glass is half empty' Williams would of course have had him half-way to the grave. Not because he wanted him there, but because that was just Danny's inherent knee-jerk reaction because Danny was the last person on earth to believe he deserved his own quotient of happiness.

"But, we heard the best," Steve muttered to himself as he eyed his partner's profile. That was too true. Morris's tests appeared to confirm her supposition that Steve merely had an inner ear infection. Of course, the root cause wasn't just bad seas contaminated by run-off, but due to his weakened immune system. So it was good news, bad news of sorts. Wholly fixable regardless. Yet, Danny was having trouble digesting the whole of it.

"... he thought the worst ..."

Danny's reaction was purely that of adrenaline-driven emotion. As Steve sat there, slouched against the door and feeling still somewhat ill, he studied Danny's profile more bravely. The rigidity of the jawline, the way Danny swallowed convulsively every now and again. The way he had a death-grip on the steering column to hide the occasional quiver of his fingers.

Steve shook his head again, his expression now one of fondness. He felt it down into the pit of his own stomach and it made his queasiness worse. Danny loved him. They loved each other and had admitted as much. But at the end of the day, they still skated around the reality of that love. Steve unconsciously touched his own lips, his fingers tracing an almost lost memory of Danny kissing him. He'd been sick at the time himself and Steve had thought the tenderness an accident despite Danny saying otherwise. They hadn't quite revisited that place again either; so that merely compounded ... their mutual avoidance.

What were they doing? All the indicators were there and still, they refused to commit.

Danny loved him. Danny was scared for him and that meant, Danny was plain scared of losing him. Now it was Steve's turn to churn through certain truths about himself, too. He stared hard at his partner. Other than replying to the occasional question from Charlie who was dozing in the rear of the Camaro in his booster seat, Danny hadn't said so much as boo since leaving the doctor's office. As he watched, Danny swallowed hard again; his Adam's apple bobbing. Steve wondered if Danny had a headache and even felt queasy himself. In fact, there was a thin sheen of sweat covering Danny's upper lip.

Steve had just about scared Danny half to death because ... Danny had assumed the very worst scenario. In his typical fashion, Danny didn't quite know how to process his relief ... because Danny loved him so much.

As a familiar knot of sheer longing tightened inside Steve's chest, Steve knew that he loved Danny just as much. He needed him. He took a minute to sit up straighter and look over his shoulder towards Charlie. All floppy arms and legs, the little boy was sound asleep. His head hanging down to the side and gently swaying with the motion of the car. Steve smiled gently as he gazed at the boy's sleep-flushed cheeks because he needed Charlie, too. And Grace. Steve needed both of Danny's kids. Without thinking, Steve reached out to Danny to gently squeeze his shoulder. Steve would go through hell and back for Danny and for either one of his children; Danny'd already done that for him time and again. They would truly do anything for each other.

When they stopped at a traffic light, Danny glanced his way, his shoulder tense under Steve's hand and Steve shook his head, not knowing quite how to express what he was feeling.

"What? Are you all right?" Danny asked. "Are you okay?" Steve nodded as Danny quickly studied him, apparently stuck on Steve's not feeling well. But Steve was studying Danny, too, and noting how somber Danny's eyes still seemed to be.

"Yeah, I'm good," Steve replied softly as he allowed his thumb to rub a small circle near Danny's clavicle, not liking the heat leeching into his hand. "Much better." He opened his mouth, ready to say just that - that he didn't like how tense Danny still was - when his friend spoke first.

"You should eat something when we get home," Danny said. "Then, get off your feet; let the meds get in your system; this is nothing to fool around with."

Steve smiled gently, acquiescing quickly. But this was the start of their dance again, wasn't it? There but not there; straddling the fence and not jumping to the other side even though it was obvious that they both wanted to.

"Maybe you should take a shower and relax," Danny said. "I'll throw together something to eat and then you can take your meds."

They were very close to being at Steve's house now and he'd let Danny do what he needed to do to settle. The fussing was part and parcel of Danny's makeup. Especially now when he knew what he could do - now that he had a job he understood - he'd be able to settle faster and calm down.

"I'll help you put Charlie to bed," Steve said. "He's out like a light ... we might be able to get another hour out of him as a nap."

"Yeah, all right," Danny said, his eyes suddenly a million miles away.

When they parked, it was Danny though who skillfully manipulated his son out of his car seat and to his bedroom. But it was Steve who was waiting for Danny in the kitchen, his bottles of medication lined up on the counter top.

"Morris says you have to eat," Danny said as he tried to shoulder past where Steve was standing. As he tried to brush by, Steve felt that same sickly heat rising off him and he grabbed for Danny's arms, swinging him around.

"What are you doing?" Danny asked as he tried to pull away, his brow furrowed when Steve wouldn't let him. "What? Listen ... you need to take all of this stuff ... it's nothing to fool with ..."

"You said that about four times already. Now, shut up," Steve whispered as he pulled Danny to his chest and without daring to think, pressed his lips to Danny's, drawn into that damnable mouth that never stopped moving - except when it shouldn't. If Danny wasn't going to really speak to him and sound more like a parrot, then Steve was damned well going to give him a much better reason not to really talk. "Just ... shut up, Danno," he whispered again, as he layered kiss after kiss over that mouth, teasing Danny's lower lip and grinning through an unexpected moan from the smaller man.

Sure, they'd been dancing around this since Danny had nearly been killed. They'd been testing the waters, stealing kisses that were far too chaste and touches which were far too careful. Both knew what they were doing; they didn't need to say it out loud. They knew what they weren't doing too and the games had to stop. They needed to stop. When he tried to pull away, Steve refused to give Danny space. He tucked Danny in even tighter, his head falling just under his chin and Steve almost laughed at the light but heady scents of vanilla and coconut wafting from the loose strands of blond hair. Sinking his head lower, Steve reveled in how pliable Danny had become, bemused when Danny snuggled in closer, his arms wrapped around Steve's waist, as he licked and sucked a gentle trail over Danny's neck and then to the soft juncture of his shoulder. The scent was different here, thick and peppery from sweat, and Steve inhaled deeply of it before wetly mouthing the area. He grinned when Danny shivered against him, incredibly silent even if that damnable mouth was now free.

"Look at you," Steve smirked into the crook of Danny's neck. "You're letting me drive again."

He more felt than heard the wrecked, muffled sound that leaked out from inside Danny's chest and Steve leaned back in surprise. Danny's eyes were closed and he was panting softly, his body virtually melded to his, yet a tear had broken loose to trace down the side of one cheek.

"I...I'm sorry," Steve murmured, his stomach clenching almost painfully as his head began to throb almost on queue. Worried that he'd massively screwed up despite the way Danny was clinging to him, Steve tried to brush the tear away. But then Danny was tugging him closer, burying his face in Steve's shirt, his fingers clenching and almost scrabbling across his back.

"You scared the crap out of me," Danny said. "You freaking maniac. You need to take care of yourself ..."

"I know... I'm sorry," Steve replied. "I wasn't thinking I guess." The excuse finally felt lame even to his ears now though and Steve didn't know what to say to ease Danny's mind because in a big way, Danny was right. Whether it be his norm or even denial about his current health challenges, sometimes Steve was just oblivious until it was too late. And here was Danny again, desperately trying to give him a wake-up call.

"We work in all the right ways ... but in all the wrong ways, too," Danny whispered. "And ... I can't keep doing this. Not to me ... especially not to Charlie when he's so damned innocent. He loves you too much."

Steve paused, confused and with his worry mounting all over again. That sickly thud in his temple accelerated and he wheezed out a pained breath. "What do you mean by that?" He struggled to ask, not at all sure he wanted to know. "Jesus, Danny ... what do you mean?"

"You said it once," Danny kept right on whispering even as he lifted his face up to stare into Steve's eyes. "You said that almost losing me twice was enough of a nudge. Put yourself in my place, Steve. For me, two times with you was just a tease; just the tip of the iceberg and I can't do it anymore. You got a nudge? I got a kick in the ass. When are you going to realize that you are not expendable? You've got a family. We are your family. What the hell am I supposed to do without you, huh? Me? Charlie ... Grace? You're so much more than plain old Uncle Steve who Danno works with - you're their - everything."

Steve heaved in a ragged breath of air, still a bit lost, still scared to death that this was a break up in their relationship before it even had a solid chance to start. He stood there, rock solid, afraid to move lest he lose the physical hold he had on Danny. Afraid his queasy stomach would win out and he'd dry heave right then and there.

"Danny? I ...?" Steve's brain was still in an upheaval when Danny hooked his fingers around the nape of his neck. He tugged Steve down until their noses skimmed and then their lips. Danny leaned in, his other hand on Steve's hip for balance as he kissed him deeply.

"What do you need from me?" Danny whispered, his voice was husky. His eyes were glassy though, full of un-shed tears. "Just ... tell me because I don't know what to do anymore."

Steve closed his eyes. He rested his forehead against Danny's and then simply said the easiest truth. "I need you, Danno." Blindly, Steve recaptured Danny's lips, their kisses now stained with tears. Eyes closed, Steve heaved in another sigh as he tucked Danny back into his arms and pressed kiss after kiss to the top of his head.

"That's all ... just you."

~ to be continued ~