Warnings / Enticements: dirty talk, comeplay, mild D/s (top!Steve).

Author's notes: it's finally done! Thank you to everyone who offered feedback and encouragement along the way – I hope you enjoyed the ride.


Danny is tempted to stay home with his partner today, making up for all the time they wasted secretly pining for each other. There's so much he wants to do to Steve, and even more that he wants Steve to do to him. But Chin and Kono took Five-0 another step closer to the gunman last night, by finding him on that store security footage, and it's time Danny pulled his weight. Steve is able to defend himself now, and the HPD protective detail is still stationed outside the front gate.

So Danny kisses Steve goodbye, and heads to HQ.

Based on Danny's theory that the perp stole the GPS tracker just before boarding a flight from LAX, Chin has gotten hold of the subsequent 24 hours' worth of surveillance from Honolulu airport. Dividing up the arrival gates between them, Danny, Chin and Kono retreat to their individual offices to scrutinize the stream of incoming passengers.

A couple of hours later, Danny is the one who strikes gold. Pausing the footage, he zooms in on someone who's a perfect match to that partial image from the LA Radio Shack. The bastard's not wearing a cap, for once, so he's visible in all his lowlife glory at last.

And Danny's jaw drops, because he was right: he does know that face. Only problem is, the guy's dead.

It was that major drug case, three months ago, when Steve and Danny had gotten cut by flying glass from a shattered car window. Five-0 had been asked to trace the source of a particularly toxic batch of crystal meth, which had killed a dozen people in just a week. Their investigation had led to an industrial-scale lab, the biggest one ever found in Hawaii.

Steve and Danny had approached the run-down warehouse from the street, with Chin and Kono going round the back and HPD guarding the perimeter.

The scumbags running the operation hadn't come quietly, because Danny's life is never that simple. No, they'd used their arsenal of illegal assault weapons and gone down fighting. Chin and Kono took out two men who'd tried to shoot their way to freedom. Taking shelter behind a car, Steve killed one guy who was advancing on their position; Danny then seriously wounded another who was aiming at Steve's head.

It was a sunny afternoon, so Danny got a clear look at the dead bodies before a paramedic led him away to check his skin lacerations. And he'd swear that the man on his computer screen is the one Steve had put down with a bullet to the heart.

Huh. Danny sits back in his chair and stares at the ceiling, his mind racing. Could the gunman be a vampire?

There are several points in favor of this theory, beyond the guy's apparent ability to rise from the dead. He's ridiculously pale, even by mainland standards, and he vanished without trace after fleeing the scene with impressive speed. Also, they've never seen him in daylight. The Radio Shack theft took place after sunset, the perp landed in Hawaii later that night, and both the GPS planting and the shooting occurred under cover of darkness.

Before last November, Danny would have laughed at himself for even considering vampirism as an explanation. But hey...if werewolves are real, then who's to say that all the other horror movie archetypes aren't real too? So before alerting his teammates that he's found the shooter, or doing anything else, Danny asks someone who just might know.

"Hey, Steve, there's something weird here," Danny says as soon as Steve picks up. "I finally got a clear picture of the perp arriving at HNL, and he looks exactly like that meth dealer you shot and killed back in October. So tell me the truth: do vampires exist?"

"Uh, no? Not as far as I know," Steve says.

"Hmm, okay. What about zombies, then?"

"Why – does the guy look like he's hungry for brains?"

"He just looks tired, and maybe a little drunk," Danny says, looking at the screen.

Steve laughs. "Right. So try finding a more prosaic explanation first, then let your imagination run wild."

Danny could point out that his imagination – and his willingness to believe that Steve might be a werewolf – has got the two of them where they are today. But he holds back, since there's a chance that whoever bugged HQ the first time round has been back over the weekend to replace the devices. They'll need to do regular bug sweeps from now on, and improve the security system.

Ending the call, Danny looks up that drug raid...and yeah, there's that same face again. According to the case file, Tyler Martin was born in Hawaii and started his criminal career as a teenager. He was just 24 years old when he got into a gunfight with a SEAL, and lost.

But a little more digging into Tyler's history provides a prosaic explanation, after all. He was survived by a brother named Jonathan, who goes by Johnny. Danny pulls up their DMV records, and: bingo.

Danny calls Steve back with the news, then puts his phone on speaker and carries it out to the computer table. "Hey, I've found our guy! Can you transfer the images on my desktop out here?"

Chin works his magic, bringing up four pictures: the airport surveillance from three weeks ago, the post-mortem photo from three months ago, a Hawaii driver's license and a Minnesota one. Tyler's hair was longer and his skin more tanned, but otherwise Johnny is his doppelganger.

"Whoa," Kono says, "identical twins? I totally did not see that coming." Chin just shakes his head slowly, disbelieving but delighted at the breakthrough.

"I knew I recognized our perp from somewhere," Danny says triumphantly. "Steve killed Tyler Martin in that meth lab shootout a few months back. That gives his brother Johnny one hell of a motive to kill Steve."

Chin has pulled up the case file. "The Martins' cousin Aaron Lee was the meth cook – he's the one Danny wounded that day. He survived, pleaded guilty, and got a reduced sentence after he identified the lab's suppliers. Aaron probably saw Steve shoot Tyler, right?"

"Yeah," Steve says. "He was sheltering behind a wall a few feet away when I put Tyler down. Aaron screamed and came towards us, firing, and that's when Danny shot him."

"So maybe Aaron contacted Johnny from prison, and told him that Tyler's death was an unprovoked execution instead of self-defense," Kono says. "And Johnny came back to Hawaii, determined to get revenge on Steve."

"Okay," Danny says, "let's put together all the info we can find on this guy. I know we're all keen to get our hands on him, but we need solid proof first. Steve, you want to stay on the line while we work this?"

"Nah – I should shower, maybe have some lunch."

"Make sure you keep your bandages dry," Danny orders, since their teammates are still listening.

"I know, I know. God, you're so bossy," Steve whines, playing along.

Danny hangs up on him, and sees Chin and Kono trying not to laugh. He rolls his eyes. "Steve's driving me crazy. Man, I can't wait 'til he's allowed to come back to work."

Kono grins. "Doesn't he drive you crazy on the job too?"

"Yeah, well." Danny shrugs. "Once he's healthy again, at least I'll be able to yell at him without feeling guilty."


Kono, Chin, and Danny spend the next few hours compiling every bit of data held on Johnny Martin by local, state, and federal authorities.

As they piece his life together, Danny comes to understand why the guy never showed up on Five-0's radar as a suspect in Steve's shooting. Johnny has no criminal convictions, he's lived on the mainland since 2004, and he arrived back in Honolulu using a fake ID.

Before becoming a fulltime lowlife, Tyler Martin only went to high school to deal drugs. It seems like his twin was a decent kid, though, getting good grades and winning every track meet. Johnny left Hawaii on an athletics scholarship to a Wisconsin college, where he took computer studies. But he dropped out in junior year after losing his funding, and got work at a Radio Shack in Minneapolis – which explains why he could so easily circumvent the LA store's anti-theft measures.

Until three months ago, there was no record of Johnny doing anything worse than speeding occasionally. But then Tyler was killed, and Johnny's life came undone. He got arrested twice for DUI, the store fired him for repeatedly showing up late (either drunk or hung-over), and his girlfriend left him after an argument so loud that neighbors called the police. And three weeks ago, Johnny moved out of his apartment and flew to Hawaii on a one-way ticket.

Everything points to Johnny...now they just have to find him.

"His father died years ago. But his mom, Fiona, still lives in the family home out in Wai'anae," Kono reports. "That's a pretty rough area."

"I'll organize the warrant," Chin says. "Kono, alert HPD and have them send a couple of cars. We need SWAT, too, just in case. Johnny Martin might give himself up quietly, or he might go down fighting like his twin."

Danny goes into his office to tell Steve what they've found so far, finishing up with, "Johnny's got a Minnesota firearms license. Guess what kind of handgun he owns?"

"A Glock 9mm," Steve says.

"You got it. And Chin checked with shooting ranges in the Minneapolis area: he started showing up for intensive target practice a few weeks before leaving for Hawaii. This is our guy, Steve, I'm sure of it. We're heading out to his mother's place now."

"I'm coming with you," Steve declares.

"Like hell you are," Danny says. "You're recovering from a life-threatening injury, remember? And this guy already tried to kill you once. I don't want you anywhere near that house – promise me, Steve."

"All right, fine. I promise. But call me the minute you find him, okay?"

"You'll be the first to know," Danny assures him. He checks his gun, thankful that he remembered to swap out the silver rounds last night, and gets his bulletproof vest on. Then he heads out to the parking lot to meet Chin and Kono.

Danny stops down the street from a small run-down house, his teammates, two squad cars, and a vanload of SWAT officers pulling up behind him. Johnny Martin must have been smart, determined, and hard-working, if he got out of this crappy neighborhood and went to college. He can never forgive the guy for hurting Steve, but that doesn't stop him from seeing Johnny's downward spiral as a tragic waste.

The front door is opened by a short, rail-thin white woman. Her brown hair is graying, and her hazel eyes are shadowed. She doesn't look at all surprised to find Five-0 on her doorstep, but she just folds her arms when Chin asks about Johnny's whereabouts.

"You monsters took Tyler from me," Fiona Martin says venomously. "I won't help you find my other boy."

"We have a warrant, ma'am," Danny says, loud enough to be heard throughout the house, "and your property is surrounded. Please stand aside while we conduct a search. And if Johnny is here, it'd be a good idea for him to come out with his hands up."

A quick sweep reveals the house to be empty, but the spare room is full of Johnny's stuff. Kono leads Mrs. Martin outside, confiscating her phone so she can't warn her son, while the others search for evidence. The suitcase's airline tags match the fake ID Johnny traveled under, but the inside is labeled with his real name. Under the bed is a TSA-mandated container for transporting a handgun, lying open and empty. Danny snaps photos of everything, and tells the HPD guys to gather Johnny's clothes – including a pair of black gloves – for gunshot residue tests.

The laptop on the desk is running, and there's an email open on the screen. It's from the manager of a local Best Buy, confirming the time of Johnny's job interview this afternoon. Chin gets the computer taken into evidence, in case there's any proof of Johnny tracking Danny's car, and then checks his watch. "He should still be at the store right now."

"Excellent. Let's go gatecrash the party," Danny says as they head back outside.

"Fiona Martin, we're taking you in for questioning regarding the attempted murder of Steve McGarrett," Chin says. She starts shouting at them, obscenities and threats, as she's bundled into the back of a squad car.

Danny's phone rings as he's driving to the electronics store. It's one of the HPD officers who stayed behind to search the Martin house, reporting that a Glock pistol was found in a shoebox under the back porch. Danny thanks her, and asks her to get it to CSU for top priority testing. If they're lucky, a preliminary ballistics report will be done in time for Danny to use it against Johnny during the interrogation.


Chin, Kono, and Danny hurry through the Best Buy with the SWAT team close behind. The three of them burst into the office, weapons trained on Johnny as they order him to put his hands up. The store manager cowers back but Johnny jumps to his feet, making an abortive gesture towards the gun he's no longer carrying. Once he realizes there's no way out, though, he bows his head and surrenders.

It's anti-climactic, but at least nobody gets shot this time.

"Jonathan Martin, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Steve McGarrett," Danny says, cuffing him carefully while reading his Miranda rights slowly. He's not going to jeopardize the case against this asshole with any procedural fuck-ups. Chin tries to calm the poor manager down, Kono leads Johnny out of the building, and Danny makes a quick call to notify Steve of the arrest.

Their return to HQ is delayed by traffic, or what passes for it in Hawaii anyway (Danny's from Jersey, okay...he knows true gridlock). Once they arrive, Kono puts Johnny in an interview room and sits across from him – her silent gaze can be highly unnerving – while Chin stands guard outside.

When Danny heads into his office to gather the necessary files, Steve is already there waiting for him.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Danny says, throwing his hands up, "did I not make myself clear earlier?"

"Hey, I only promised that I wouldn't come on the raid," Steve says. "I just want to have a conversation with the guy, face to face."

"I get it, Steve, I truly do, but you can't – we have to play this one safe. Do you want your attacker walking free because you gained a confession under duress?"

"I bet you I could get Martin to talk without laying a finger on him," Steve persists.

"Your ability to scare the shit out of people is not in question here," Danny says. "But okay, how's this: if I get nowhere with Johnny, I may mention that you're here and very keen for a reunion."

When Steve opens his mouth to argue, Danny steamrollers right over him. "It's up to me, Steve, you got that? Until you're medically cleared for duty, I'm in charge of Five-0."

After a long moment, Steve grudgingly says, "Fine. Can I at least watch the interrogation?" Danny nods, and gathers up the evidence he'll present to Johnny.

Chin sighs when he sees Steve accompanying Danny. "It's great to have you up and around again, brah, but what part of 'benched' and 'bed rest' did you not understand?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve says, "Danny already covered that in some detail, trust me. I just couldn't miss the chance to see this for myself."

Danny points him at the observation room, where Steve will be safely separated from the suspect by a one-way mirror. Kono's already in there, and will no doubt offer her own opinion of Steve's pig-headed idiocy. Then Danny walks into the interview room with Chin.

Johnny Martin was already pale, thanks to the harsh Minnesota winter, but he's ghostly white now. Still, his expression is stubbornly set.

"So, Johnny," Danny begins, "is there any chance you'd like to confess now, and save us all a lot of time and trouble?"

When the guy just glares at them, Danny and Chin sit across the table from him and lay out the evidence they've collected. Johnny doesn't speak, but his body language reveals an increasing level of nervousness.

"That Glock we found under the porch at your mom's house? We're getting it tested right now," Danny continues, noting how Johnny licks his lips and shifts in his chair. "And if the ballistics results match the bullet that hit Commander McGarrett, then you're in serious trouble. Juries just love that CSI stuff, man."

Chin leans forward to try a different tack. "Hey, listen. I understand that you're angry about your brother's death –"

"His murder," Johnny spits, breaking his silence at last.

"Actually, no," Danny says immediately, "it was self-defense. We went to the warehouse to arrest your brother, your cousin, and two other guys involved in their meth operation. Instead of surrendering, the four of them opened fire. They were trying to kill us, so we fired back. Steve shot Tyler and I shot Aaron, yes, but we did it to protect ourselves."

Johnny shakes his head. It seems like he's been fed a distorted version of the truth, which he's clinging to as a justification. But he hasn't lawyered up yet, so Danny still has some chance of wearing him down.

Danny asks Chin to go check in with CSU. Once the door closes behind him, Danny says, "You know, Johnny, you really upset a lot of people by shooting Steve. The Governor of Hawaii, for one; we've got her full backing to throw the book at you. But guess who you pissed off the most?"

Johnny's mouth twists into an ugly sneer. "You, for ruining date night with McGarrett? The two of you seemed pretty lovey-dovey at that fancy restaurant. He even dressed up for you, but I guess the bullet hole and bloodstains ruined his nice shirt."

Danny's torn between exultation at this partial admission of guilt – Johnny's just placed himself at the scene of the crime – and seething anger. But the interview is being recorded, and Danny has to keep his cool.

So he just grins, baring his teeth. "You're not my favorite person, that's for damn sure. But no, you pissed off someone much worse than me: Steve. That's Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett of the Navy SEALs, to be more precise. You've heard of the SEALs, right? They're the toughest, most badass guys in the US military. And right now Steve's on the other side of that mirror, watching you."

Danny spreads his hands in mock frustration as Johnny swallows hard. "He should be at home recovering from his injuries, but I just couldn't keep him away. I persuaded him not to come in here to interrogate you himself. But he's still my boss, so..."

He trails off, but the implication works – Johnny bites his lip, eyes darting between the mirror and Danny. Then there's a knock on the door, and Johnny shrinks back in fear. Danny's briefly worried that Steve has gotten impatient and overruled him, but thankfully it's Chin instead.

"The ballistics report came back," he announces. "Mr. Martin, test rounds fired from your Glock match the bullet removed from Commander McGarrett's chest and the shell casing found at the scene."

Chin presses his advantage as Johnny's face crumples. "We've got you on first degree attempted murder, Mr. Martin. If you confess now, we could talk to the District Attorney and maybe get you a reduced sentence. But if you go to trial and get convicted, you'll probably spend the rest of your life in prison."

The guy looks like he's wavering, so Danny plays their trump card. "And then there's your mother."

When Johnny's jaw drops, Danny adds, "Oh, didn't I tell you? We took her into custody too, and we'll be questioning her next. She obviously knows what you did – maybe she even urged you to attack Steve. That's aiding and abetting, or even conspiracy to commit murder. But the DA has a lot of discretion in these matters. If you confess now, the charges against your mom might disappear."

Johnny slumps forward with his head in his hands, breathing hard. Eventually, he lifts his face and says, "Yeah, okay. I did it...I tried to kill McGarrett."

Danny smiles at him, encouraging now instead of threatening. "All right. So talk us through it."

Self-incriminating words spill from Johnny's mouth like a dam's been broken. He describes how he brought his handgun with him from Minnesota, stole the GPS locator in LA, and spied on Steve for a few days before planting the device on Danny's car.

Chin interrupts to ask, "Why didn't you monitor Commander McGarrett's truck too?"

"He always seemed to ride in the Camaro," Johnny tells Chin, then glares across at Danny. "Anyway, I knew you were the one who shot Aaron. I wanted to kill McGarrett in front of you, so you'd both suffer. It was even sweeter once I realized he was your boyfriend."

Danny laces his fingers together tightly to stop himself from throttling the homophobic little shit. Chin glances at him, worried, then prompts Johnny to keep talking.

"I tracked you guys for nearly a week, waiting for the right moment. And on the Friday night, I got my chance. The restaurant parking lot seemed perfect: dark, off the street, and with a few possible escape routes via the alleyways and the old tunnels. My cousin grew up in that part of town, so I know my way around. I parked on a street six blocks away, walked back, and waited for you two to come out of the restaurant. Then I fired one shot at McGarrett."

Johnny turns his gaze from Danny to the one-way mirror, his hatred for Steve overcoming his fear.

"But now I wish I'd fired twice...God, I wish I'd emptied all my bullets into you, McGarrett, to make sure you were dead! You murdered my brother, you motherfucking asshole, and I hope you rot in hell."

Johnny slumps back in his chair, eyes wild and chest heaving. Danny feels shell-shocked, and wonders how Steve is reacting next door. He hopes Steve will trust him to handle this, and not storm into the room to confront Johnny.

There's just one more thing Danny wants to ask, but he has to take a deep calming breath before he can speak. "So did you decide to kill Steve as soon as you heard about Tyler's death, or sometime later?"

"About six weeks ago," Johnny says, quieter now. "Before that, all I knew was that Tyler was shot by a cop. When I came home for the funeral, Aaron was in hospital under police guard so I couldn't talk to him. But once he finally got transferred to prison, Mom visited him and heard the full truth. She called and told me what Aaron said, about McGarrett killing Tyler in cold blood when he was trying to surrender."

"Like I said," Danny counters, "that's not what happened. And I can prove it, too, because that meth lab had a security system in place. The cameras mounted on the front wall of the warehouse captured the whole raid on tape. If your cousin hadn't taken that plea bargain, we would've played the footage in court so everyone could see that your twin fired at us first."

Johnny looks devastated. "No – you're lying!"

Chin touches Danny's arm before he can respond. "Go get some air, okay? I'll take it from here."

And part of Danny wants to keep pushing; wants to get a screen set up in here right now, so Johnny can watch the shootout for himself and have his illusions shattered. But Chin's right. Even if he made the guy break down crying, it wouldn't undo what happened to Steve – or to Tyler.

When Danny leaves the room, he finds his partner waiting for him in the otherwise deserted hallway. Steve opens his arms, and Danny walks into an embrace he desperately needs. Listening to Johnny was like having salt rubbed into Danny's still-raw memories: seeing Steve on the ground with a hole in his chest, trying to save him, and begging him not to die.

"You did it, Danno," Steve says. "You found him, and you made him talk. The hard part's over."

They still have to get Johnny's confession formalized, contact the DA about a deal for him and Mrs. Martin, and do God knows how much paperwork. But all that can wait. Danny presses his face to Steve's chest, comforted by the steady beat of his healthy heart.


By sunset, the wheels of justice have been set in motion. Johnny and his mother have been transferred to HPD's custody, and the DA will hear from Five-0 at 9am tomorrow.

Chin and Kono offer to go plead the Martins' case, and Danny is grateful he won't have to do it himself. But to Danny's surprise, Steve asks them to seek a lenient sentence for Johnny: five to ten, instead of life without parole.

"I know how I felt after my father was killed," Steve explains. "The drive for revenge drowned everything else out. And the distance between me and Dad, all that time we spent apart, made for a toxic mix of grief and guilt. I would've hunted Victor Hesse down no matter what, with or without the Governor's promise of immunity. So yeah, I understand what Johnny did."

"So can you forgive him?" Danny asks.

"Probably not, but I still think he deserves a second chance."

Kono nods. "What about Fiona?"

"I asked Martin about his mom's role in all this, but he clammed up," Chin says. "Without his testimony, or any hard evidence that she encouraged or helped him, there's not much the DA can do."

"I vote to release her. She's already lost one of her sons, and his brother will be behind bars for years," Steve says. "No punishment the state can hand down would compare to that."

"She'll hate you forever," Danny warns. "You didn't see the way she looked at us today."

Steve shrugs. "A lot of people hate me for a lot less. I have weapons, a kick-ass home security system, a team I trust with my life, and you as my partner. I'll be fine, Danny."

To celebrate a difficult but successful day, they get pizza delivered to HQ. Danny's in such a good mood that he doesn't even rant (much) about the Hawaiian pizza Steve orders and devours with evident enjoyment. It seems like forever since the four of them sat around, laughing and swapping stories; maybe they should make this kind of dinner a weekly thing, for team morale.

As Danny's driving back to the house afterwards, Steve clears his throat and says, "I called Cath this morning."

"Yeah? How'd it go?"

"Okay. She seemed disappointed, but not all that surprised."

"Huh," Danny says. "So you'd already told her how you felt about me?"

"No, but she does know I'm bi and I did talk about you a lot. Cath's a smart woman – I guess she connected the dots."

"Well, I'm glad you could end things on reasonably good terms," Danny says.

"Remarkably good, actually," Steve says. "I needed her help with the L-10 problem, and she gave me what I wanted."

Danny shakes his head in disbelief. "Someone really should bottle this charm of yours. You asked a favor of the woman you just dumped, and she didn't yell or hang up on you?"

Steve shrugs. "Anyway, I thought up an excuse for checking L-10's file. He once told me he served in Vietnam as a young Marine; he was among the personnel helicoptered out of the US Embassy just before Saigon fell. And my father's ship was part of the fleet that received those evacuees."

"Did they meet each other?"

"No idea," Steve says, "but there's no proof they didn't, either. So: I told Cath I'd found a photo of Dad, taken in '75, and that I wanted to find the Marine whose name was scrawled on the back. So she looked him up."

When Steve falls silent, Danny prompts him. "And?"

"And he's dead, Danny. L-10 suffered a massive heart attack the day after I got shot."

"Jesus," Danny breathes. "Are you sure that's a coincidence?"

"I'd have to hack into the Pentagon's files myself to double-check. I can believe it, though – he was a heavy smoker, he drank too much, and he'd spent decades behind a desk."

Danny taps his fingertips against the wheel, waiting for the traffic light to change. "So you think his passing explains why you got left alone at the weekend?"

Steve nods. "He ran that office like it was his own little kingdom, and only had a junior aide to do the filing. Nobody else could have stepped into his shoes and immediately understood what was going on. So maybe the reports about me did make it to the Pentagon, but got buried in an overflowing in-tray."

"Well, I'm sorry the guy's dead, but thank God for his timing," Danny says, taking the turn-off for Steve's street.

"It doesn't mean we're out of the woods," Steve cautions. "Sooner or later his successor will clear the backlog of paperwork, and start asking questions. But for now I think we can relax a little."

"So we caught the guy who tried to kill you, and we know why the Pentagon didn't send anyone to get you afterwards," Danny says. "Not bad work, for a Monday. Any other problems you want to solve, while we're on a roll here?"

Steve grins. "Let's try one last puzzle. We're about to arrive at my house, where there's a nice big bed and a good supply of condoms and lube upstairs. I really want to fuck you, and you've expressed an interest in getting fucked by me. So: your thoughts, Detective Williams?"

Danny's hands tighten reflexively on the wheel as he turns into the driveway. "Yes," he says. "Christ, I want you so much." As soon as the car stops, Steve leans across to kiss him and Danny meets him half-way.


They eventually make it to the front door, where Danny enters the alarm code with fingers that are trembling slightly. Grabbing Danny's hand, Steve drags him up to his room, pulls Danny's clothes off, and pushes him down on the bed. And fuck, Danny's cock is already hard – being manhandled like this is such a turn-on for him.

Steve strips, fast and efficient, before covering Danny's body with his own. He reaches down to palm the swell of his ass.

"God, Danny, do you have any idea how hot your ass is? You wear those tight pants every fucking day, just to torture me."

"Like you can talk," Danny says, kissing Steve's collarbone before licking a broad stripe up his neck. "You're all, 'Oh, it's a day ending in a -y, I must take my shirt off!' And I have to look, and not touch."

"You can touch now," Steve says, and Danny grins. He runs his hands down Steve's back, loving the feel of the smooth skin and powerful muscles. Steve's ass is usually hidden by those stupid cargo pants, but it's just as tight and taut as Danny had imagined.

"At least you get to see my chest on a regular basis," Steve says. "I just have daydreams about removing your goddamn tie with my teeth."

"Kinky," Danny murmurs, and Steve's laugh is full of filthy promise.

"Oh, we're just getting started, my friend."

Steve claims his mouth again, deep and thorough, until Danny's head is swimming. Then he lifts up and straddles Danny's thighs, staring down at his body with a predatory grin. Danny swallows hard, and doesn't move.

"Look at you, all laid out for me," Steve says. He splays his hands out and rakes his nails down Danny's chest, slowly. The pressure is just right, too firm to be ticklish and too light to be painful, and Danny's nerve endings spark with sensation.

Steve runs a fingertip over Danny's right nipple and Danny hisses with pleasure; he does it again on the other side, pressing harder, and Danny bucks up into the touch.

"Oh, you like that, huh?"

"Yes," Danny gasps. His nipples have always been a major hot zone, but it feels like forever since anyone gave them enough attention. "Give me more."

"I can do that," Steve says, and he does. Danny shudders when Steve pinches both with his fingertips at once, and then twists. The swirl of Steve's tongue around each nipple in turn makes him moan, and he curses loudly when Steve starts sucking.

Though Steve's cock is leaking pre-come onto Danny's thigh, he seems content to take his time, exploring Danny's skin inch by inch like he could do this for hours. Maybe sometime soon they'll spend all day in bed, taking it slow. But right now Danny is so hard that he's aching, desperate to have Steve inside him.

"Hey, babe? As awesome as this is, I seem to recall you saying something about your cock in my ass."

"Patience," Steve says smugly.

"Steven," Danny says through gritted teeth as Steve sucks at his earlobe, "I've been waiting for this for months. I'm all out of goddamn patience! So would you please just fuck me already?"

Steve mouths along Danny's jaw. "I was hoping for an engraved invitation, but I guess that'll do," he says.

Danny rolls his eyes. "If I could reach, I'd give myself a Sharpie tramp stamp that reads, 'Steve's cock goes here', with an arrow pointing down. Close enough?"

He doesn't miss the way his partner's eyes darken at that. And yeah, doesn't it just figure that toppy, possessive Steve would like the idea of seeing his name on Danny's ass. Steve kisses him, quick and hard, before reaching into the bedside drawer for lube and a condom.

Steve kneels between Danny's legs, slicking up the fingers of one hand and caressing his inner thighs, balls, and perineum. He says, conversationally, "How long since you last got fucked?"

"Since before we met," Danny admits.

"So do I need to take this real slow?" Steve asks as he circles Danny's hole.

Danny hisses out a breath at the tantalizing touch. "No – I use my fingers a lot."

Steve stills, biting his lip, before pushing one lubed finger in. "You put your fingers inside when you're jerking off?"

Christ, Danny had almost forgotten how good it feels to have someone else do this to him. "Yeah," he groans. "Don't you?"

"Never." Steve pulls out and slides two fingers back in, the movement rougher but still tightly controlled. "Tell me how you fuck yourself," he says, using his Commander voice that always makes Danny's heart skip a beat.

Danny could resist, refuse to answer, but this interrogation session is already turning them both on like crazy.

"I use my right hand on my cock," Danny says, short of breath now. "I put the middle finger of my left hand in my ass, then the index finger. Sometimes I use my ring finger too."

Steve's face is flushed, his pupils blown wide. "You want three inside you now?"

"Please," Danny begs, and Steve fills him up. His fingers are long and strong, easily able to reach Danny's prostate, and he's clearly done this enough to know where to find it. But Steve is deliberately holding back, focused on just stretching Danny instead.

"Do you watch porn when you masturbate, Danny?"

"Mostly I just fantasize." Danny feels laid wide open, Steve in charge and demanding these intimate confessions from him. After the week he's had, though, it's a relief to give up control and just obey.

Steve's pumping three fingers in and out now, and it's mind-meltingly good. "Whose fingers are they, in your fantasies?"

"Yours," Danny breathes. "Fuck, Steve, it's always you." Steve makes a low, satisfied sound, and Danny's cock gets even harder in response.

Steve pulls out, wipes his fingers clean, and rolls the condom on with shaking hands. It's a relief to see that his self-possession isn't rock-solid, when Danny's already so close to the edge.

Lining himself up, Steve slowly pushes into Danny. Christ, he's big, but Danny's body is relaxed enough to let him in.

"Fuck," Steve says once he's deep inside, braced on his elbows with his belly pressing against Danny's erection. He's staring down at Danny like he can't quite believe this is real, and Danny knows just how he feels.

"Yes please," he replies, wrapping his arms around Steve's back and clenching his ass around Steve's cock.

Steve's breath hitches. "Oh, you wanna get fucked, huh?"

"If you don't mind," Danny says sweetly, flexing his hips up sharply.

"Should've known you'd be a pushy bottom," Steve says with a wicked grin. But he finally moves, starting with slow, smooth strokes and building up speed. And Jesus fuck, it's as fantastic as Danny had hoped.

The first thrust to hit his prostate makes Danny's whole body jolt, the feeling almost unbearably good. His eyes fall closed as Steve keeps pounding against that sweet spot, each thrust making bursts of light appear behind the lids. He leans down and kisses Danny fiercely, capturing his moans. Steve's abs are providing enough delicious friction against Danny's cock that he'll probably come, untouched, real fucking soon...he's waited too long for this to last.

Steve pulls his mouth away to suck a bruise at the base of Danny's neck, tugging on both his nipples at the same time, and Danny's body convulses with pleasure. He's talking now, but God knows if it's even English coming out – Danny can't hear his own words over the rapid thud of his heart and the growing roar in his head.

One more hard, deep thrust and Danny's gone, swept away by a perfect storm of sensation.

When Danny eventually opens his eyes again, he finds Steve watching him. "So hot, Danny," he murmurs. Steve's hips have stilled but his hard cock is twitching against Danny's prostate, sending sparks through his already sated body. "Even better than I imagined."

Danny stretches his arms above his head, worn out in the best possible way. "You fantasize about fucking me, huh?"

"God, yes," Steve says as he starts to thrust again. He looks pained, now, like he's so damn close to coming but can't quite get there. "Fuck, Danny, can I – ?"

When he growls in frustration instead of finishing his sentence, Danny says, "It's okay, Steve. Take whatever you need from me."

"Can you kneel, if I help hold you up?" Steve asks, and Danny nods.

Steve withdraws and sits back on his heels, pulling Danny up off the bed. Danny straddles his thighs and sinks down onto his cock again. "Feels so good, Steve," he says with a long satisfied sigh.

But Danny's next breath catches in his throat, because Steve grabs hold of his arms and pulls them behind Danny's back. Steve wraps one big hand around both wrists, and uses the other to hold Danny close as he fucks up into him.

Holy fucking hell. Nobody's restrained Danny like this for years...there's been nobody he trusts enough. It's like a switch gets flipped in his brain, sending electricity coursing through his body as a long-dormant kink flares back into life.

"Yes, Steve," he breathes, "I'm all yours. C'mon, give it to me."

Danny kisses Steve then, deep and dirty, biting his lower lip as he rolls his hips. Steve's thrusts become erratic as he teeters on the brink. He tightens his grip on Danny's wrists, like human handcuffs, and comes inside Danny with a strangled moan.

They collapse back onto the bed, both breathless. Steve pulls out and deals with the condom, before wiping them both clean of lube and come.

"You know, I think that might just have been worth the wait," Danny says.

"Definitely," Steve replies, rolling onto his back and pulling Danny close. "Roof's still intact, though."

"Practice makes perfect," Danny says, yawning.

Steve laughs. "Good thing we've got time then, huh." And Danny knows him well enough to hear what's behind the words – both an uncertain question and an unshakeable promise.

"Yeah, babe," Danny says, kissing the scar on Steve's chest. "All the time in the world."


END.