He's not totally sure what he expected Steve to do or say, when he pulled back, commented on the fact that Steve was right, he had fooled Danny, for a long time. Maybe no more than Danny had fooled him, so it's not like they both aren't to blame and not, at the same time, here.
Both of them, trying to make sure the other one never had to know, or deal with it. And they'd been good at it. Damn good. The kind of good that the shiver that runs in a frisson over him now isn't from Steve's touch or what he's saying, but how close they came to never knowing. To just continuing on, like always, with no idea that everything they felt and wanted and couldn't stop wanting was mutual.
But Steve is talking, finally. Trying words on for size, seeing how they fit, and discarding them, while Danny's eyebrows crawl first closer together, and then up his forehead. That it wasn't on Danny, which is bullshit, because Danny is supposed to be able to tell, right, when something is bugging Steve. When something is on Steve's mind, and tugging at all his neat compartmentalized boxes.
Which still isn't as bad as you were never supposed to see, which is bad enough, but takes an easy second to there wasn't anything to see, which is an outright lie, maybe the first of the night.
Steve. Lying to him, while laying on top of him, close as breathing. Saying there wasn't anything, when it's ludicrously clear that there certainly was something, and his mouth is actually opening to refute that point, when Steve keeps going, and Danny has to swallow whatever it was he was going to say, before he accidentally chokes on it, at that name coming out of Steve's mouth.
Rachel. Who he loved so much, Rachel. The only person he might have left Hawaii and Five-0 and Steve for, Rachel. Mother of his daughter. Woman of his dreams.
Who shattered and left him, twice. Rachel.
Steve's continuing, and he's making even less sense, now, but it's a relief, in a way, to let bewilderment crawl across his face at that last sentence, strike on something more immediate, wholly inconsequential. "Guys don't check me out."
Nobody checks him out. People check Steve out, all the time, sure. Steve. Kono. Chin's had his fair share of the admiring public, but Danny has never been the type, and that suits him fine, was never anything he wanted or wanted to waste time and energy on dealing with.
Sure. It annoyed him when girls couldn't keep their eyes off Steve, or the occasional surfer boy would hang around their camp out on the beach, lingering a little too long, but only because he found it deeply unfair, at the beginning, and then started to feel it as an annoying personal affront.
That every one else could look, but he couldn't. Wasn't wanted.
Except he was, and that's the thing he can't get over, wrap his mind around, especially: "Did you say Rachel?"
Rachel. Who had wrecked him all over again. It was a big deal, for both of them: the first time Steve had ever walked him through anything like it, after having heard the story of the first time around. He was over here a lot.
But that was...
Years ago. Before the gray suit ever even made an appearance, years.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2015-11-17 04:33 am (UTC)He's not totally sure what he expected Steve to do or say, when he pulled back, commented on the fact that Steve was right, he had fooled Danny, for a long time. Maybe no more than Danny had fooled him, so it's not like they both aren't to blame and not, at the same time, here.
Both of them, trying to make sure the other one never had to know, or deal with it. And they'd been good at it. Damn good. The kind of good that the shiver that runs in a frisson over him now isn't from Steve's touch or what he's saying, but how close they came to never knowing. To just continuing on, like always, with no idea that everything they felt and wanted and couldn't stop wanting was mutual.
But Steve is talking, finally. Trying words on for size, seeing how they fit, and discarding them, while Danny's eyebrows crawl first closer together, and then up his forehead. That it wasn't on Danny, which is bullshit, because Danny is supposed to be able to tell, right, when something is bugging Steve. When something is on Steve's mind, and tugging at all his neat compartmentalized boxes.
Which still isn't as bad as you were never supposed to see, which is bad enough, but takes an easy second to there wasn't anything to see, which is an outright lie, maybe the first of the night.
Steve. Lying to him, while laying on top of him, close as breathing. Saying there wasn't anything, when it's ludicrously clear that there certainly was something, and his mouth is actually opening to refute that point, when Steve keeps going, and Danny has to swallow whatever it was he was going to say, before he accidentally chokes on it, at that name coming out of Steve's mouth.
Rachel. Who he loved so much, Rachel. The only person he might have left Hawaii and Five-0 and Steve for, Rachel. Mother of his daughter. Woman of his dreams.
Who shattered and left him, twice. Rachel.
Steve's continuing, and he's making even less sense, now, but it's a relief, in a way, to let bewilderment crawl across his face at that last sentence, strike on something more immediate, wholly inconsequential. "Guys don't check me out."
Nobody checks him out. People check Steve out, all the time, sure. Steve. Kono. Chin's had his fair share of the admiring public, but Danny has never been the type, and that suits him fine, was never anything he wanted or wanted to waste time and energy on dealing with.
Sure. It annoyed him when girls couldn't keep their eyes off Steve, or the occasional surfer boy would hang around their camp out on the beach, lingering a little too long, but only because he found it deeply unfair, at the beginning, and then started to feel it as an annoying personal affront.
That every one else could look, but he couldn't. Wasn't wanted.
Except he was, and that's the thing he can't get over, wrap his mind around, especially: "Did you say Rachel?"
Rachel. Who had wrecked him all over again. It was a big deal, for both of them: the first time Steve had ever walked him through anything like it, after having heard the story of the first time around. He was over here a lot.
But that was...
Years ago. Before the gray suit ever even made an appearance, years.
Before he even knew. Years.