Disclaimer: I do not own The Hangover or Hawaii Five-0.

a/n: No idea where this came from. Just laying in bed, waiting to fall asleep... and thinking of sexy men along the way, lol. Sorry for any OOC-ness, while smooshing these two together. :) Hangover spoilers. Finished writing this at 5 a.m. hope you enjoy!

Summary: After being in Las Vegas on a case lead for a couple days and running into an old friend, Danny returns to Honolulu to a jealous Steve—and their relationship takes a different course from there.

Pairings Include: Danny/Phil [not graphic] & Steve/Danny [graphic].

HAWAII . FIVE - 0 / The — Hangover

Ignite & Inflame

Danny squinted into the blinding Nevada sun, pushing up Steve's stolen navigator sunglasses up his nose as he stepped from the cab into the LVPD's parking lot, his small travel bag thrown over his shoulder. He decided he would give them back when his controlling partner finally gave him his Camaro back; as it was, Steve had exclusive control for the next two days.

He'd taken a cab directly from the airport, intent on being in and out as fast as possible.

While it was great that he was finally on the mainland after two-years trapped in a pineapple hellscape (he readily discounted his little jaunt with Chin to L.A. for the whole smallpox thing), it wasn't very amusing to exchange a tropical inferno for a desert inferno. The flight hadn't been as long as it had been from New Jersey to Oahu, but it felt like he was trying to get his land-legs back after being years at-sea (it was an island surround by water, leave him alone).

Five-0 had been wrapping up a drug trafficking case, when a new name had popped up on their radar during an interrogation. Leslie Chow, or more commonly known as Mr. Chow... was drug lord, mobster, and international criminal who was pretty adapt at not getting caught and escaping from prison when he was.

Danny had attempted to delegate with another detective he'd been able to get a hold of in Las Vegas, where Chow's activities seemed to be currently focused, but the man didn't seem to be very welcoming or accepting of having to deal with a mobster in his sandbox. So after a short, controlled conversation with Steve, it was agreed that Danny would go to Vegas and see what he could dig up any leads on the Asian-American criminal.

Two days. Apparently the clock starting as soon as their conversation had ceased on the matter and Steve had given his 'permission'. The SEAL didn't want his partner gone longer than strictly necessary.

As he stepped into the building and waited easily for his turn at the officer manning at the windowed front desk, he took his time to gain his bearings in the new station. Though every station might differ in 'physical' appearance, the atmosphere was always similar no matter the city. Toiling, conviction, and an undercurrent of criminal-odour.

He watched as a small class of students a little older than Grace were lead through by an officer to the bullpen of cubicles and offices, and the accused waited to be interviewed by their arresting officers.

He turned his attention back and stepped up to the windowed counter, showed her his I.D. and explained that Det. Remesco was expecting him. He was directed into the bullpen, where he got his first good look of the large, pleasantly coloured room of blues and grey. Starting to look for the detective's desk, his attention was drawn to the odd spectacle that drew a quark to his lips of a trio of men was being let away for an interview, handcuffed together in a tangled way with just two pairs of cuffs.

The fat, russet-haired man wearing white jeans, was caught in the middle, arms pulled across his chest in opposing directions, stumbling backwards, facing Danny. The bearded man actually locked eyes with Danny for a moment, with a genuine friendly smile and gave him a wave. Surprised, and more than a little awkward, Danny waved back.

His blue gaze then drifted to one of the man's other companions. A lean and cut figure with a thick head of golden-brown hair, whose ass look pretty tight in the charcoal pants he was wearing—before they disappeared from sight.

Danny smoothed a hand a little self-consciously over his hair, giving a furtive glance around to see if he'd been caught out. But he was ignored by the bench of arrestees next to him like any other cop. He sighed as he returned to the task of finding Remesco.

He couldn't remember if he'd always been attracted to the lean, towering types—or if it had only started since he met Steve. It was a little difficult to tell since it always seem everyone had some kind of height on him.

There was this sort of unsaid, half-acknowledged attraction between them. It was almost like teenage best-friends who were attracted to each other but sort of ignored it for fear of it not working out and destroying the friendship. Plus, they worked together and Steve was his 'boss,' and there was that thing where you didn't date your partner! Then the thing that Steve had with Catherine, and Danny couldn't deal with the added stress of actually dating McGarrett, he just wanted to focus on Grace right now.

He finally found the detective he'd spoken to on the phone, and after almost 45 minutes of fighting to keep his voice low and even, he was just as useless and a sorry excuse for a cop in person as he had been on the phone.

Now looking at a sticky note again with barely legible pen scratches on the 'hangouts' for Chow, he moved from the bullpen, muttering darkly to himself—he walked into someone in the station's lobby.

"Sorry—" he started, backing up a step.

"Hey, watch it."

Danny blinked up into the man's crystalline-blue eyes for a moment before the recognition hit, just as it did for the other man.

"Danny?"

"Phil?"

"Holy shit!" Phil gave an open grin. "It really is you, isn't it?" he clapped a hand on the detective's shoulders and gave him a happy little jostle.

"Now I know it's you." He grinned back.

"What are you doing here?" Phil leaned slightly back and his blue-gaze slowly checked the man out. He raised a brow as he immediately spotted the gun and badge on his belt. "You're a cop here?"

The old, familiar heat of attraction hit the short blond at the blatant check-out and he shook it off. "I'm actually up in Hawaii now—just following a lead that pointed to Vegas." He raised an perceptive brow. "You?"

"Oh, oh. Bachelor party." He finally took his hand back and his eyes flicked back to his two uneasy looking friends. "Our friend Doug."

Danny glanced at Stu and Alan, the former looking more anxious than the latter, who was giving the blond another childishly-innocent smile. "So the groom-to-be didn't get arrested with you—good for him. I saw you handcuffed earlier, though I didn't know it was you." He explained at the tall man's look.

"Phil, we need to go." Stu pressed in a low tone.

"Wait, wait." Phil held up a hand to the dentist and turned his attention back to Danny. He licked his lips. "You busy? Maybe you can help us out."

Stu's eys widened in horror. "Phil—!"

Phil silenced him. "Danny?"

Danny was quiet for a moment as he turned his calculating, detective's-gaze to each man. The air was filled with an bated, overwrought anxiety. But he didn't sense any ill intentions. He was here for a case, and he needed to check out the locations on the sticky-note, check out the security footage to see if he could spot Chow. It would be hours of boring labour.

He knew Phil from college. He knew the guy could be an jerk sometimes but he had a 'heart-of-gold'. Holy crap, he really did have a type, didn't he? The things you learn away from home.

"Yeah, sure." Danny nodded, shoving the sticky-note into his back pocket. "What's up?"

Phil nodded, his shoulders briefly sagging in relief before he straightened again. He easily shifted his arm around the blond's shoulders. "Walk with us? We have to pick up our car from impound."

Danny allowed himself to be guided from the station and the short walk to impound with the strong arm wrapped around his shoulder, and the lean torso pressed against his ribs. "So..." he wondered, glancing up at the handsome angle of the man's face, "What exactly did you do to get arrested?"

"We stole a cop car!" Alan laughed from where he and Stu trailed behind the pair.

"Alan!" Stu cursed. "He's a cop, idiot!"

Danny hooked a brow at Phil. "Really?" he deadpanned.

Phil just gave a one-shouldered shrug. "We tend to do dumb shit when we're fucked up."

Danny gave his head a little shake, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Definitely the same Phil. "Has someone actually hired you to mould the impressionable minds of America's future?"

Phil gave a shit-eating smirk. "Fifth Grade Elementary in Cali. And if they don't irritate me, it's fine."

"So you're a teacher." Danny decidedly took that last bit as a jest. "What about a girlfriend? Has someone managed to lock down Wild Wenneck?"

"As a matter of fact..." Phil told him proudly, "I've been married for ten years, got a five-year-old boy." Stephanie took his ring for safe-keeping for the trip to Vegas.

Danny beamed at him. "That's great, buddy!"

"What about you?"

Danny's expression dimmed a little. "Divorced for five years. I have a daughter, Grace. She's almost ten. My ex and her new husband moved out to Hawaii a couple years ago—I followed so I could still see my kid."

"That sucks, man." Phil squeezed his shoulder as they finally arrived at the impound lot. "You sound like a great dad."

"Thanks, I try." Danny gave him a brief smile.

They separated so Phil could give the guy in the small portable the ticket and fee for their car before they were made to wait as the car was fetched.

"So, what was it you wanted help with?" Danny asked when the man returned, slipping Steve's stolen sunglass back into place. Phil had a similar pair. He shifted his hold on his bag.

There was a silence for a moment as Phil and Stu shared a look, before he slipped his own sunglasses on from his shirt pocket.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Phil?" Stu hissed and Danny pretended that he didn't hear, for the most part.

"I know him." Phil rolled his eyes at his friend behind his sunglasses. "We can trust him." Stu muttered under his breath, but nodded.

"Hang on," Danny held up his hand as Phil turned to him, stopping the teacher from indulging any information. "If it's illegal, I don't want to know. Okay? So think clearly before you speak." He paused, then made a go-ahead gesture with the same raised hand before dropping it to his hip.

"Last night we were drinking—and were drugged with roofies—all of us. We don't remember much from last night." Stu admitted after Phil's impatient gesture.

"How do you know you were roofied?" Danny questioned. "Maybe you were just blackout drunk."

Phil shook his head, carding his fingers through his thick mane in a familiar gesture. "When we woke up this morning, there was a hospital-band on my wrist. We didn't remember, so we went to the hospital this morning."

"Are you okay?"

"It was just a mild concussion and some bruised ribs." Phil replied, "But they took some blood and the test came back with traces of it. But none of us can remember last night," he shrugged.

Danny nodded slowly. "What about your friend... Doug? He doesn't remember either?"

"That's the thing..." the three of them shared another worried look. "We don't know where Doug is."

Danny was silent for a moment as he processed the answer. He took a deep breath. "What?" he exclaimed. "What do you mean, missing?"

"When we woke of this morning," Stu swallowed, "Doug and his mattress were gone."

"And the tiger—" Alan started.

Stu smacked at the bearded man, but addressed Danny, "Ignore him."

Oh, and Danny did, his attention lasered in on Phil, who was shifting a little uneasily under the familiar outburst. "Your friend is missing," he repeated. "And that's not what you lead with? Just some casual conversation on a friendly little jaunt to the impound lot, nothing wrong with this picture—except for the missing person, Phil!" his free hand swung wide, "And I feel as an intelligent person and good detective, I have to ask, because I know it's the truth... Why the hell didn't you tell the police?"

"We figured we could just retrace our steps and find him ourselves," Phil quickly tried to explain under Danny's sever expression, "No harm, no foul." Danny cursed under his breath. "We would leave Vegas, Doug would get married and it would be the thing that stayed in Vegas. But we haven't been having any luck."

"Oh, really?" Danny gasped in mock-surprise. "A teacher, whatever you are—" he pointed a finger at Stu.

"Dentist," Stu mumbled, feeling very chastised under the finger.

Danny ignored him and his finger swung to Alan, who blinked at him, "And whatever you are—"

"Hungry?" Alan questioned.

Danny glared back at Phil, and continued his tirade as if there had been no interjections (it was a talent), "Couldn't find their missing friend. Why am I not surprised?"

Phil stuffed his hands in his pockets and bulled ahead, "We found out that he was with us when we went to the hospital last night, but (luckily) didn't find him there. Then there was the chapel." He quickly divulged no further information on that; Danny narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses as he caught the shift, but said nothing for the moment; Stu look embarrassed and shamed, definitely not thinking about the same thing as Phil in regards to The Best Little Chapel. "We were arrested before he could do anything further."

Danny took a deep breath, his arms crossed over his chest. He knew his old friend just thought it was a drunken-bender, passed-out-somewhere, yet-to-return-but-in-good-time situation; but this wouldn't be the first time he encountered people going rogue P.I. and aggravating a situation. "You need to go to the police, Phil. Better safe-than-sorry."

"Your are the police," Phil pointed out petulantly.

"LVPD, Phil!" Danny shouted. "Because your friend is missing! You said that you were roofied, how do you know something terrible hasn't happened?" Alan gave a little whimper at that, and Stu rubbed his back awkwardly. "How could you be so irresponsible?" Danny fumed. "You're in charge of thirty-some, nine-ten year-old kids, five days a week, 10 months out of the year—how could you lose your own, grown friend? You're unbelievable!" he threw up his hands. Now he was definitely sure he had a type, the kind that made his want to rip his lovely hair out.

"You've met the police here!" Phil protested. "They're either crazy or don't give a shit." He threw out his own hand. "My dick will certainly attest to the former—we just got tased in some fucked up demonstration to a bunch of kids so we wouldn't get charged and put in front of a judge by those fucking assholes," Danny did remember seeing that class of kids being led through. "Please, Danny."

Danny puffed out his cheeks a little in frustration. He drop his hands to his sides, his bag hitting against his thigh. Phil did have a point about the cops around here, at least the one he'd met up with pointed in that direction. He sighed, smoothing a hand over his hair before he gave that man a reluctant but determined nod. Steve was going to be pissed that he was going off the reservation on a 'personal task,' but what the SEAL didn't know right now, couldn't hurt either of them, really.

Phil gave a cheer and grinned, picking up Danny in a exuberant hug. "I knew I could count on you!"

"Alright, alright." Danny groused, but couldn't help but smile a little. "Put me down, I not some doll you can man-handle."

Phil laughed and he could feel it rumble lightly through the man's chest and into his own. He finally released Danny, but didn't step back, squeezing his shoulders. "Seriously, thanks, man. You're saving our asses here,"

Danny just nodded and smoothed a hand over his tie and hair, attempting to ignore the bodily reaction of Phil close proximity and the smell of his cologne and sweat. The man was married and he really just needed to get laid in general.

The group's attention was turned as the impound attendant finally pulled up to the portable office, with the gang's Mercedes Benz.

"Nice car," Danny commented. Of course, it could never hold up against his Camaro.

"It's my dad's," Alan said.

"I thought it was going to be beat to shit," Stu said in relief.

"We got lucky, guys." Phil nodded.

"Alright." Danny steered them back on track. "Take me back to the your Hotel, so I can have a look around. Maybe get access to the security feed without any trouble,"

Phil nodded and ushered them into the car. He got in behind the wheel, Stu and Alan climbed into the back without and word, and Danny slipped into the passenger seat up front with Phil.

"I assume you stole the cruiser after you lost the Benz?" Danny questioned as Phil drove through the open fenced-gate and out onto the empty lane.

"The cops said they found it in the middle of Las Vegas Boulevard at 5 a.m.," Stu answered. "So I guess it would have to be."

"And you have no recollection of it?" he looked back over his shoulder.

"It was in valet at the Hotel," Phil said.

"And you just went with it." It wasn't a question and Phil figured answering would just iriate the blond further (he was right, of course). "Alright." He sighed. "Since it was out of your possession for such a long period, there's bound to be some clues about your night."

So, they started to search. There was discovery of a half-smoked cigar in the ashtray (no one in the gang smoke Cuban); Stu found a pair of ladies shoes under the seat (definitely not theirs), and Alan found a used condom (and the short events that went down within the minutes of finding it, Danny would take his grave). But Danny found the Golden Egg Laying Goose. Wedged in the back of seat, was a silver, Dell digital camera.

Turning it on, the battery in the last quarter, there was a few hundred photos in the memory. The first listed hundred were very family-friendly, and of Stu and what appeared to be his girlfriend. Then he started seeing 'tourist shots' of the Vegas Strip. The Wolfpacks Hotel, etc. He was finally able to put a face to his 'missing person' Doug.

And then things started to get interesting as the Bachelor Party started to get into full swing.

Danny's jaw ticked as he saw the police cruiser that the four of them had stolen, with Phil in a tactical vest with the shotgun that was kept racked in the car; maybe he was going to arrest someone on this trip after all, just an idiot instead of a drug lord. Danny inhaled slowly, trying to keep himself in enough control not to throttle the man driving—as he saw the pack apparently stealing a tiger! He vaguely remembered Alan saying something about a tiger before Stu quickly shut him up.

"We're going to have a long, perhaps morale, talk after we find your friend, Phil." Danny told him.

Phil flashed him a confused, caught red-handed look before he turned back to the road. The man may not exactly remember the lead-to events of last night, but Danny knew he was damn well aware of the results.

The blond turned his attention back to the camera, doing a little double-take, before flicking back. He straightened in his seat as he stared at an Asian-American drug lord posing for the camera with a bunch of strippers. He flicked forward through several more, and he was in them as well with members of the Wolfpack.

"Why do you have photos of you parting with a drug lord?" Danny questioned in a tight voice.

"What?" Phil asked. He pulled to a stop at a stop sign on the empty, dusty road.

Danny held out the camera, and showed him one of the pictures of Chow.

Phil squinted at it. "Who the fuck is that?"

"A drug lord, mobster, international criminal." Danny stated. "The guy I'm here to arrest."

Phil's blue eyes flickered back to the camera that Danny still had shoved practically in his face, before he pushed the man's hand down. "I have no idea who the fuck that is, Danny." He swore. "I swear. I don't remember."

Danny stared at him with narrowed eyes for a hard moment before he gave a miniscule nod of his acceptance. But just for a the small chance, he twisted around in his seat and showed the picture to Stu and Alan in the backseat to see if they might remember as Phil started to drive again. But he had the same luck.

With a heavy exhale, he sat back into his seat and continued to looked through the pictures, maybe getting a location on where they were taken. Get a clue on either Chow or Doug. His attention was jerked away from the camera as there was a very distinct, muffled thumping coming from behind them as he saw Stu's wedding photo's at the Chapel. That was why the dentist had acted so sketchy; the redhead in the pictures was not his girlfriend.

Phil swerved a little in surprise. "What the fuck was that?" his eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror to see into the backseat.

Alan looked a little scared and Stu freaked out.

"It's coming from the trunk..." Stu said, dazed. "Was is it coming from the trunk?"

"Is the car haunted?" Alan whimpered.

There was thumping again and Danny's eyes widened. "Pull over!" he shouted.

Phil cursed and quickly swerved from the road and into the sandy shoulder, kicking up a large dust cloud. There were struggles with seatbelts, Danny and Phil jumped out of their seats, racing around the back, the teacher fumbling with the keys. Alan and Stu struggled and scrambled to get over the front seats and out of the car.

Danny stood back from the trunk, his hand curled lightly over the grip of his issued weapon, the caution of a seasoned detective. The paperwork to carry his weapon on his Red Eye flight was worth it. Phil fumbled with his keys in the trunk lock.

"Easy," Danny told him.

Phil paused at his old friend's tone and glanced back at him, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the blond's steady and ready stance, his palm hovering over his holstered weapon. But then he nodded, ignoring Stu urging to hurry up, and unlocked the trunk. He wasn't stupid. With all the shit he discovered they'd done last night, who knew what might actually be in the trunk.

He didn't even have a chance to step back before the trunk door flew upward, and a pale blur launched at his face with a war-shriek. He stumbled back into Stu, blinded, grabbing at the man that clung to his face like a wet cat.

"Get off me!" Phil gave a shout of pain as the man swung the tire iron into his back. "Fuck!"

Danny was not in a position to use his gun right now. If he attempted to fire, he'd only shoot Phil in the process. Alan was covering away from the conflict, Stu had fallen onto the ground in the collision. So Danny jumped into the fray with the struggling Phil. As the crazed man brought the tire iron down in another blind swing, Danny managed to grab the iron and wrench it from the man's adrenaline-tight hold, flinging it backward into the dusty sand.

The man gave a cry, rearing back in anger at his loss of weapon. And that was when Danny realized that this wasn't just any man that had been locked in the Mercedes' trunk—this was Mr. Leslie Chow.

With no other weapon at his disposal, Chow looked intent on sinking his teeth into Phil's jugular. Fist clenched, Daniel gave a straight punch to the criminal's face from behind Phil's back.

Chow gave a shriek before he tumbled from Phil's chest to the ground. Phil gave his own shout, stumbling back into Danny, off balance, and suddenly free. Danny squeezed his arms briefly before he darted around the man and to Chow, who had already scrambled onto his feet, the bottom half of his face bloody from Danny's punch. The fucker was resilient, had to be to have survived this long.

"Five-0! Don't move!" Danny shouted, even as he dove for the man already on the move. Of course, Five-0 meant nothing to anyone off Oahu. Chow wouldn't have even cared if Danny was in full police uniform. He ignored the nudity as the pair tumbled onto the ground. This wasn't his first nude arrest. The guy—Danny had actually found someone shorter than him—was scrappy. They grappled for a moment, and after Danny got a sharp elbow to the ear, he managed to shove the enraged man face first into the sand, and then cuffed his arms behind his back from the handcuffs clipped on the belt at the small of his back. He literally had to sit on Chow to keep him down.

"Can someone please get his clothes from the trunk?" Danny asked. "For me to have any hope left in drunken-mankind, they better be in there."

Thankfully, they were. Stu handed them to him, but then he was the one left with the distasteful act of dressing the drug lord, who writhed and snapped at him like a rabid animal. Eventually, he seemed to conk out from exhaustion and the glaring Nevada sun and Danny got him into the backseat of the Mercedes, while Stu took the wheel and the three men piled into the front, Danny in the back with Chow.

The man was dehydrated and delirious. Chow needed to get checked out at the hospital for being locked in the truck for god knows how long. But the police station was closer. He'd drop the international criminal off there, and the Las Vegas officers and Interpol Agents that would be contacted about the arrest, could deal with the drug lord.

Surprised; irritation at the station's seemingly lax reaction at having Danny deliver the man in question that he had been in the station about not even two hours prior into their custody with the blantant ignorance of having found him in the trunk of the car, and a sudden exhaustion at the fast climax warring inside of him. But he decided not to fight it. He'd diverted from a lead and found the man that he really didn't expect to have a hope of locating—looking in the absolute last place he would have looked.

Paperwork signed, he rubbed at his cell in his pant pocket through the material, deciding if he should update Steve with the good news, but as he headed towards the Mercedes in the parking lot, decided against it. With news of the arrest, Steve just would have demanded that the detective take the first flight back to Hawaii. But Danny still had his unofficial missing persons case to resolve.

"We good?" Phil asked him, straightening from where he'd been leaning against the side of the car, arms crossed over his chest, the material tightening and defining places of the past that Danny steadfast tried to ignore; Alan had mirrored his position.

Danny nodded. "Let's find your friend."

They all got back into the car, and Phil drove them back to the hotel. It wasn't until they were in valet, and Danny grabbed his go-bag (from the trunk where he'd put it for safety with Chow in custody), that he remembered the camera. Turning his attention back to it as they walked through the grand lobby, headed for the elevator. He wanted to have a look at their suite and see if Doug had returned on his own or not from the time that 3/4s of the Wolfpack had left the hotel that morning before he pulled what weight he had with the security to see camera footage of the pervious night.

His eyes flickered over each passing picture with his detective eyes; Alan getting a bellybutton piercing, Stu pulling out his own tooth... he stopped suddenly in the hall, at the back of the Wolfpack, so they didn't notice he wasn't with them anymore when they made it to their suite door.

"... tiger?" Alan's voice drifted Danny's way as he focused on the camera, followed by some quiet curses. Then, his absence was noticed.

"Danny?" Phil questioned, coming back to him. "Did you find something?"

"I found your missing friend." Danny looked up.

Phil raised his brows in surprise. "You know where Doug is?"

Stu overheard and came scrambling back to them, followed close behind by Alan. "You found Doug? Where?"

Danny turned the camera to them, showing the clear picture of Doug passed out on his bare mattress, Alan faux humping the man, similar to what Phil had with the stolen tiger... with a clear backdrop of the night Vegas sky and the design of the hotel roof as its base.

"The mattress!" Stu exclaimed and true apprehension dawned on the dentist. "It wasn't thrown out the window—you can't open the windows in Vegas hotels. It's just like that time a summer camp when we dragged him out onto the jetty."

Phil chuckled. "Yeah, that was funny."

"No, it's not funny!" Danny snapped at them and they at least sobered at him. "Other than being drunken, reckless children running around Vegas stealing cop cars, tigers, and hanging out with drug lords—you've endangered your friend even more." He attempted a controlling breath, getting his head back into the immediate game. "Come on, with any luck, your friend is in no worse shape than Chow was, locked in the trunk all morning and afternoon." Danny turned on his heel and they quickly made their way back to the elevator.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Stu asked anxiously as they rode up.

"I've overlooked a lot of things today, illegal things, that I should have hauled your asses back down to the station and book you for," Danny said, "But this... I hope for all your sakes that Doug is alright."

There was a tense silence for thirty second more, before the elevator arrived at it's destination and they all stumbled out of the confining space. Phil quickly led the way through the door marked no access, staff only, up the metal stairs and out the door into the blinding desert sun. Stu quickly pulled a cement block in front of the heavy metal door, propping it open and the four of them quickly spread out in search of the groom-to-be.

There wasn't very much on the side of shadow casting structures, but for a raised metal siding that would act as a heat magnifying device instead, and with the sun straight overhead, it cast no shadow.

"You motherfucker!" came the shriek of anger and Danny spun around towards the voice, just in time to see the dark-haired man named Doug, bodily tackle a clearly unexpected Phil to the gravel of the roof. "You locked me up here and fucking forgot about me!" he screamed, pushing up from the stunned teacher, ready to struck.

As much as Danny knew the man deserved it, he quickly intervened. He took hold of the man's shaking man's wrist, gently. "Doug? Doug." He repeated, and the man jerked to look at him in surprise, just seeming to notice him, then in confusion. "We need to get you out of the sun, alright? You have a wedding in two days to worry about. Come on,"

"Who are you?" Doug asked as Danny helped him to his feet, a gently hand steady of the back of the trembling man's shoulder. He was flushed from head and his skin tight with sunburn. Danny gave him a sympathetic look.

Phil and Steve just seemed to be the kind of men who basked in the rays of the sun and it turned them a sexy golden tone. But fair-skinned men like he and Doug, if they weren't careful, got burnt and looked like a boiled lobster. Of course, Doug hadn't stood a chance.

"Det. Williams. Danny," he said. He left Phil to pick himself up. "Let's get you inside and cooled down." He let the man towards the propped door.

"Police?" Doug looked surprised.

"An unofficial assistance." Danny told him. "I ran into Phil at the station, and he was at least responsible enough to beg for my help." He shot a look behind him at the trailing three men. "But if you wanted to press charges..." it was half-serious, half-jest.

A small smiled twitched at the corner of Doug's chapped lips. "I'll make them suffer for this later, but right now I just want something to drink." Danny nodded his understanding as they all piled into the elevator.

"We'll do that."

When they got back to the room, Doug utterly ignored the drunken devastation of the suite and turned to his room. After a paused moment to stare at the devastation of the suite, Danny followed after to give the man instruction. He'd made himself very aware on how to identify and treat heatstroke since moving to Hawaii. Hydrate, but at a slow constant rate; least you make yourself sick with it and make yourself worse off. Cool your body temperature down; in shade, air-conditioning. Shower in warm water, graduating cooling it so you don't send yourself into shock. Advil. Something on the stomach. Rest.

Leaving Doug to rest, he shut the man's door, rearing up to let loose on the three men who put him there, because while he was fine with friendly drunken pranks as the next guy, purposefully or not, this one had gotten out of hand. And while it wasn't as bad as it could have been, it still wasn't all that better. Doug was supposed to be married in two days, and by the time it got around to that special event, his sunburn would be peeling.

He rushed into the lounge area at the shocked exclaims of dismay and protest, and stopped short as he came across Alan unconscious on the floor—and Mike Tyson(!) standing there.

"Who are you?" the large black man (Leonard) at Tyson's shoulder demanded, looking the short blond man up and down.

Danny tapped his shield. "Det. Williams," he provided, still in a little bit of shock.

"Detective," Tyson addressed him. "We're not here for any trouble," Danny's eyes flickered briefly to Alan on the floor.

"Mr. Tyson just wants what these idiots stole from him last night." Leonard said.

Danny turned a questioning gaze on Phil (who with Stu, were glued to the spot after what happened with Alan), the tall man gave him a little cringing grimace and mouth 'tiger' at him. His blue eyes blazed at the man for a moment before he turned back to the two other men with a more controlled and profession expression.

"Did you lose a... tiger by an chance?" Danny questioned. This was definitely the craziest thing he'd come across in his career, and that was saying something since he became Steve's partner and friend. Leonard gave a slight incline of his head. "Alright... If you have the proper paperwork and documentation for your... tiger... Mr. Tyson, I see no reason why we can't get it back to you."

Tyson nodded and the two men left without qualm after that. "Be sure that we do," Leonard addressed Phil and Stu as they passed.

Danny and Phil instantly went to check on Alan, who appeared to be climbing back to consciousness.

"Man, that's going to be one hell of a shiner." Phil whistled, catching sight of the already forming bruise around the bearded man's left eye. "You okay, buddy?"

"What 'appened?" Alan asked as he was helped to his feet and lead over to the couch.

"Mike Tyson punched you," Stu said.

"Oh." Was all Alan said, just accepting of the fact.

"Get him some ice?" Danny told Stu, who went to do just that, and he turned his attention to Phil. "Where exactly is this tiger?" he question.

"The bathroom," Phil answered.

"The bathroom," Danny repeated.

Phil nodded. "Yeah. Woke up this morning and it was just... in there." He gestured towards the main bathroom of the suite, on the other end of the lounge. "No idea how it fucking got there."

Danny turned and looked at the now ominous-looking door. "Jesus Christ." He smoothed a hand over his hair. "Alright. Well, we're definitely not going to handle this ourselves."

Stu returned with some ice in a cloth, and instructed Alan to hold it against his eye. "What's happening?" the dentist asked.

"I need a phonebook," Danny told them. "We're going to call Animal Services and they can take care of it." Ten minutes later, Danny hung up the room phone. "They'll be here in half-an-hour."

And two hours later, the tiger was tranquilized and contained, and the bathroom was free. Doug slept through entire thing, exhausted and in dire need of rest. They ordered room service after that, and Danny was still trying to understand his day since his flight arrived, as they sky darkened over Vegas.

"Thanks for letting me stay," Danny said, walking into Phil's room, dropping his bag on the stool near the door. He knew he was forgetting something that he was sure he was going to pay for later, but right now, he was tired and that bed look so damn inviting. "I would of had to stay in some shithole motel that I'm sure would be too eerily similar to my apartment back home." As the hours wore on, his anger and frustration at his old friend had ebbed.

"I thought you lived in Hawaii?" Phil said, as if that automatically meant everyone owned some open loft, walls made of glass, beach-front properties.

Danny turned, finding the taller man way closer than he was expecting. He shook off the automatic curl of heat at the close proximity. "Do you have any idea the cost of simply migrating to Hawaii, let alone finding a decent place after the cost of a divorce, child support, and on a cop's salary? But Grace is there—I'd live in a dumpster if I had or a beach hut if it meant I could see her." He added, "I'd prefer the dumpster."

Phil chuckled. "Papa Bear Danny... anyone ever tell you how hot that is?"

Danny cocked a brow at him. "Not in so many words."

"Well, as a father myself, I find that very sexy." He dipped forward slightly, setting his hands on the blond's waist and shifting them forward.

Danny's cocked brow turned hard at the action, and his voice went in the same direction. "As much as I may want and enjoy what you're saying in-not-so-many words—you're married, Phil."

But Phil shook his head. "It's like Hall-pass."

"Hall-pass? Hall-pass?" Danny muttered in repeat. "That's a movie, not a real thing. I will not be some secret mistress from Vegas in your marriage, Philip." He seethed. "I know you can be a dick sometimes, but I didn't think you were a big enough asshole to cheat on your wife." He raised his hands and grasped the man's wrist, intending to remove them specifically from his person.

"Nonononono." Phil said quickly, tightening his hands so the blond couldn't remove them so easily. "It's not like that at all! Stephanie and I love each other. We're happily married—but we also know we're not perfect. We know the other has desires that we can't fulfill—we're open about it. Like sometimes I like dick." He shrugged matter of fact on it. "We don't bring it home. In fact, we don't do it in the same town. Our agreement comes into effect when we're out of town—visiting family, business, you know—or a bachelor party in Las Vegas. We talk about it after—it's not a secret. Just no catching something or getting pregnant." Phil looked at him sincerely, "You're not a mistress, Danny."

Danny stared back, tense, as he processed what he had been told. "You have an open marriage," he said slowly, surprise lacing his tone as Phil's agreeing nod. "And that works for you?"

Phil nodded. "We still love each other and have been married for ten years... it seems to." He shifted his hands down Danny's sides, his wrists still held, to settle just above the man's laden belt. "So? From what you've told me, you don't have someone waiting for you on that, and I quote: pineapple encrusted island..."

Danny's thoughts instantly flashed to Steve, but he shook it off. Because Steve wasn't waiting for like that. It was an unsaid thing that they didn't cross nor talk about the past two-years since they've known each other. And he was a practical man, there was that thing Steve had with Catherine wasn't there... and Danny really wanted Phil right now.

"I have several guns," Danny smirked at him, "You're only allowed to touch one." He stepped away from the man's warm hands, and turned towards the nightstand by the head of the bed, pulling his badge and gun from his belt, his intention a invitation clear as he locked the items away in the drawer.

Phil snagged his hips from behind, pressing his pelvis against Danny's backside; he was already half-hard at just the thought of having the man again after little over fifteen-years. Danny's chuckle turned into a little gasp as Phil nuzzled and nipped at that sensitive place behind his ear.

He hadn't been with a guy since before he met Rachel; Phil. and he hadn't wanted to really be with another guy until he met the infuriating Steve McGarrett; the man made him want to kiss him and punch him at the same time.

Danny guessed that he was going to get his night in Vegas after all, as Phil's hands roamed his body, tugging his shirt from his pants.

And so maybe it was a little easy to fall into old habits.

0 - xH(5)Ox - 0

Steve was on the edge and about 10 seconds away from leaving his house and stealing a plane to head to Las Vegas himself, as the line simply continued to ring—

He paced, because it at least meant he was doing something.

He'd held himself back for an entire 24 hours, and that was as much as he could give after the brief call that Danny had given him after he landed in Vegas; the eye roll could be heard across even that distance when the blond made the call just to humour him.

Steve had demanded regular updates whenever the blond had a lead on his brief two-day manhunt stint of the international criminal Leslie Chow; it was the least that could happen with the Pacific Ocean separating them. Neither of them were really expecting much, and two-days was all Steve was willing to give in the search, before they handed all they had over to Interpol. He'd expected something, even if just for the blond to call to say that he had nothing, but there wasn't even that. Radio silence through the entire day.

Steve exercised all the self-restraint that SEALs had drilled into him, not to call and hound the detective with voicemails and texts like a suspicious girlfriend. But he allowed himself one brief privilege as the leader of Five-0 (when Chin and Kono were from the office [of course]; they had closed the case on their end on Oahu and didn't currently have another), and used the Smart Table to ping Danny's cell. He ignored all the implicating emotions that caused his abdominal muscles to twitch and jolt; he'd be in for it if Danny ever found out.

But he felt the minute relief that Danny was indeed in Las Vegas. It would have to sate his not unfounded anxieties for the moment.

—And he was about to do just that, when the line connected.

"Danny? Danny, you there?" Steve interrupted before the man could even so much as inhale to reply.

"Yeah." Danny's voice was sleep rough. Steve glanced at the watch and saw that it wasn't even six a.m. The relief at hearing his partner and best-friend's voice override any guilt at the early hour. "Steve?" Danny cleared his throat, his voice quiet. "It's five in the morning, why are you calling?"

"You were supposed to call." Steve petulantly deflected; definitely not willing to admit his Danno-withdrawal to the man himself. "Why are you whispering?" he wondered a second later.

"It's five in the morning," Danny repeated.

Steve brows puckered. "Yeah, but—"

"I was a little busy doing my job to worry about your innate need to know what's happening with me every second of my day—it's called obsessive stalking, Steven." Danny chuffed a droll sound. "I arrested Chow, found him in the trunk of a car, if you can believe it. I'll fill you in later."

"Your welcome," came another amused voice, faintly through the line.

"Who—"

Danny's voice was faint in return for a moment, "You don't get to be self-satisfied about that. You're lucky I haven't arrest you." The other man chuckled in reply. "Now quiet, I'm talking to my boss."

"I thought you said you were sleeping." Steve accused.

"I didn't say, but I was."

"Then who were you talking to?"

There was movement on the other end of the line and Steve had the undesirable image of Danny moving around in bed with another man.

"I ran into an old friend at the police station." There was a light-tightness of tone in his voice. "I thought we could catch up before my flight."

Steve's throat constricted and his voice came out tight as his jaw clenched in jealousy as his assumptions were all but confirmed. "In bed?"

"I have to go, Steve." Danny told him suddenly. There was a breathy quality to his voice that had anger curling in the SEAL's stomach because it was someone else who had put it there. "My flight's just before noon, I'll be home by late supper."

"Danny?" Steve demanded.

"Phil! Not while I'm on the phone!" came the distant shout and the line disconnected.

Sometime ago, he didn't know when, he'd stopped pacing. And now, he just stood there dumbly in the middle of his living room after five in the morning for a moment, his cell still pressed against his ear and a white hot jealousy burning through him.

Danny had been with another man—that wasn't him.

It wasn't like he had any claim of ownership on the blond Jersian. As partners, yeah. Best-friends, but nothing more intimate than that. But that didn't mean Steve didn't want it, like an ache in the deep of his bones. It was just a whole jumble of complications that surrounded the concept and attraction between them.

It went unsaid, unacted upon. It was haze that surrounded them in the background, not thick enough to grasp. It was there on their first day of partnership when Steve put Danny on his knees with a wrist twisted up between his shoulder blades and Danny punched him in return. And it was there now, thicker than ever.

It was that stupid folly of reason of finding the 'right time' to verbally breach the subject with his best-friend and partner. Frankly, he thought he'd had more time. There was that thing with Catherine that he had, but he'd let that slip through his finger as easily as a handful of sand with not as much qualm as he first suspected he had.

He wasn't concerned about the few short flings that Danny had with women over the course of their partnership. But now that he knew that Danny had slept with another man... He didn't know who Phil was, this 'old friend,' but he was damned if he was going to lose Danny to some guy he didn't even know.

The flame was lit underfoot. He was determined to make his move. He had approximately 15 hours to plan because he was picking the blond up from the airport.

0 - xH(5)Ox - 0

Danny passed through the arrival gate, bag in hand and Steve's shades briefly tucked into unbuttoned collar of his shirt, his tie long discarded in his bag. With only his carry-on he was able to pass by the poor suckers waiting at baggage claim.

He didn't need to call and ask for someone to come and pick him up, or wait in the taxi post to catch a ride, because he knew Steve would be there to pick him up. The man had driven him to the airport, so it stood to reason he would pick him up anyways. Otherwise it was just a fact; one he didn't so much mind. Steve would always be there.

"No sign?" Danny wondered in mock hurt as he spotted the his tall, dark, and crazy partner at the bottom of the escalader with all the other waiting family and friends or assigned drivers. "That stings, Steven." Sex with Phil had been pretty great, but it was a little sideswiped with the fact of him wanting to call out Steve's name on completion instead of Phil's. But the thoughts of his old friend were easily pushed from thought as he gazed at the real man that he wanted.

Steve's hazel-grey's eyes grazed over every inch of his descending friend, an upward curve to his lips. That hysterical unease that he always got with Danny away eased immediately. "If you wait, I can get out my stone tablet and chisel."

Danny shook his head. "Wrong Era, my Neanderthal." Steve didn't mind the way Danny said my Neanderthal. Danny intimated with his hand as he dodged around some other arriving passengers to get to Steve, "Finger paints and cave walls, didn't you attend a single on of your history classes in grade school?"

"I don't know, I was too busy finger-painting on cave walls wearing loincloths and mammoth furs," Steve deadpanned and watched as Danny's blue-eyes went a little hazy with hunger and give a minute nibble of his lips as he picture Steve just as that.

"Animal!" he grinned, blinking the sexy mental images away.

If only Steve really could club the blond over the head and drag him back to his cave. But he knew he was going to have to put a little more finesse in this than that. Those sum fifteen hours didn't go unwasted.

"Is it me, or is the island rocking back and forth on the waves?" Danny put a steady hand on Steve's arm, bumpy playfully into his friend. "I'd just gotten my land legs back and now I'm on the Ocean again, my equilibriums off."

"It's you, Danno." Steve fondly. "It's only ever you." They made their way from the airport, through the crowds and to short-term parking, sharing a chuckle. "You know, I've been looking for those." Steve told Danny, tapping the man's chest as the blond passed him to go around to the passenger side of the Camaro. "You gonna give them back?"

Danny raised a brow at him across the roof of the car, before sliding into the passenger seat, tossing his bag in the backseat. "You ever going to let my drive my own car?"

Danny was answered with silence as Steve studiously pulled from the spot and navigated his way out of the crowded lot and into the rush of early evening traffic.

"You hungry?" Steve asked after he was sure the clock ran out on the question and he moved to the next.

"Sure, I could eat." Danny allowed the transition. He hadn't eaten since a brunch with the Wolfpack before he had to catch his flight and they had to make the drive back to California. "What'd you have in mind?"

"My place? You can fill me in on the whole 'found Chow in a trunk' thing," he suggested.

"As long as you're cooking." He agreed.

Steve smiled. "Always."

"Yeah, that happened." Danny said in response to the trunk allegation. "Ran into Mike Tyson, too, while I was at it."

"You met Mike Tyson?" Steve blinked him.

"Yeah. And I don't think even you are a match for him, babe."

He didn't bother attempt to dispute that. "How? Did you get an autograph?" he wondered.

"It wasn't exactly in normal circumstances," Danny said. "He wanted his tiger back."

Steve sent him a confused look, glancing back at the road. "Tiger?"

Danny nodded. "Those guys, babe." He gave his head a shake. "I'll take your crazy-ass over their stag night any day."

Steve briefly bit the instead of his cheek, on the opposite side facing from Danny so the man wouldn't notice. "And by 'these guys' you mean your 'old friend'?" he tried for casual and was quite sure he hadn't succeeded when he could feel Danny's stare as he 'focused' on driving.

"Are you—" Jealous? he didn't finish the question. He sighed, running a hand over his hair in resignation. "We've talked about this, Steve."

"Actually, we haven't actually talked about it." Steve boldly pointed out, his jaw set in determination. It was an opening and he wasn't going to waste it, even if this wasn't exactly how he had planned this.

Danny narrowed his eyes on the man. "Oh? And we're going to talk about it now, after you know I've slept with someone else? Really, Steven?" he huffed. "You're just being your usually possessive Neanderthal-self and acting out in jealousy."

Steve white-knuckled the steering wheel for a moment before he forced himself to relax his grip. "I was spurred into action when I figured out you slept with another man," he admitted. He moistened his lips to continue with: "But the feelings have always been there, Danno."

It was quiet in the car for a moment as Danny seemed to process his words, but for their breathing and the quiet hum of the Camaro's engine. "What..." Danny finally spoke. He swallowed. "What about you and Catherine?"

"We've been done for months now," there was no hesitation in his answer. "I broke it off with her."

"What?" Danny said in surprise. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Steve shrugged and gave him a challenging look. "Why? Would have don't something about it?"

"... Maybe." He whispered.

Steve's breath caught in his throat. And he shot a glance at the man next to him. Could it honestly have been as simple as that?

There was sort of a charged silence between them as they locked eyes, sort of frozen at each others admissions on the thing that had been hanging between them unacknowledged for years. Unable to be able to wait until they got his house to continue this, and unable to drive and commit himself to this very important and urgent conversation, Steve made an executive decision.

Steve suddenly made an unsanctioned turn into a lonely side street, and pulled the car to a stop at the curb. "What are you doing?" Danny questioned as the man put it in park and turned off the engine.

Steve unbuckled his seatbelt and turned in the seat to face him. "I want this, Danny. I want you. I can't stand to ignore it any more. The thought of you with another man..." he gave a growl of possessiveness at the mere thought, never mind the actual act.

Danny shivered as that growl went straight to his cock as it always did. Why do you think he called the man animal with such fondness? "Shit," he muttered. "Yes. Yeah." He swallowed. "Fuck. I want that too, Steve."

Steve's eyes darkened and then next thing the blond knew, the brunette was lunging at him across the consol, grabbing his face, fingers pushed into his slicked-back hair, crashing their mouths together heatedly.

Danny moaned, instantly opening mouth to the man, letting the SEAL plunder and claim his mouth with his tongue. His left arm wrapped around the man's ribs, the other palming the nape of his neck. God, it was better than he could have ever imagined. The angle was a little awkward, Danny getting a crick in his neck and Steve sprawled across the consol, his half-hard cock making acquaintance with the empty cup holder—it was worth it to finally feel Steve's lips against his own.

But honestly, as hot and intense and as wanting he was of this, the last place Danny wanted to have sex with Steve was in the confined space of his Camaro. It just wouldn't give them the room for what he wanted to do.

"This has been building and pressurizing for two-years and you just want to do it in the car?" Danny managed to get out as Steve mauled his mouth and god, he didn't even know how he managed that.

"Yes," Steve gasp, mouthing and nipping along he jaw.

"You promised me dinner!"

"I'll make you breakfast instead." Steve told him.

Danny gave the man's shoulder a little shove, and Steve pulled back slightly, resting their foreheads together. "We're not having sex in my car, McGarrett." Danny said. "The upholstery is one thing, driving Grace to school the same place we had sex is a completely different level of just no." Steve gave a petulant, constipated look. "Even if I did consent to sex in the car, without lube and condoms, we'd get nowhere fast. Your bed on the other hand... definitely much more room for what I want to do to you, what I want you do to me."

Steve's eyes fluttered closed and he gave a little groan at just the thought. "Alright. Alright." He gave Danny another kiss before he pulled back, slumping into the driver's seat. It wasn't as hot and heated as their first kiss, but it was no chaste thing for children to witness either. The blond nipped his lip in parting for good measure.

The car fired to life and Steve pulled the tightest U-turn in history that had Danny cringing and shouting "Seatbelt!" at the man as they roared back into main road traffic. Still driving over the speed limit, but at least not driving up on the sidewalk to make the drive faster, Danny was able to relax again, the anticipation fluttering in his stomach.

"Maybe I should visit the mainland more often if I get this on my return," Danny mused.

"You're never going to the mainland again," Steve growled at him. "And you're not going to see your 'old friend' again, either."

"But we exchanged numbers," Danny teased him. "It would be rude to ignore his calls, babe."

"You're not going to leave the Hawaii Chain." Steve repeated. "You're mine now, Danno."

"That possessiveness is hot right now, Steve. But I swear to god..." he was more than turned on, he always loved that focus, that intent that Steve had. It could both irritate and attract him.

Steve gave him a dark look and one hand still on the wheel, he reached across the consol in the dimness of the interior, his hand landing on Danny's thigh. He traced it upwards, and palmed the man's waiting erection through his trousers. "Mine," he whispered.

"Never mind, you're fine just the way you are!" Danny gasped, pushing into Steve's massaging hand. "Fuck," one palm pushed flat against the door window as if to brace himself, the other brushed up Steve's bare arm, fingers pushing under the sleeve of his tee as he grasped the man's flexing bicep. "Never change, your fine just the way you are!"

Steve licked his lips as he watched Danno with one eye, the other focused on the road. His blond hair was slightly mussed from the work of Steve's fingers and their kiss. His head pressed back into the seat headrest. Steve just knew his fair skin was flushed beautifully, something he was going to see for himself very soon. His breathless gasps and quiet moans filling the entirety of the car; Steve was sure he could cum with just the sound of Danny. The shallow thrusts of his hips into Steve kneading palm restricted by the seatbelt.

"Steve," Danny was helpless to do anything but beg. "Drive faster!"

Steve chuckled. "I'm going to remember all these things you're giving allowance for in the light of day, Danny." He found the man's zipper and drew it down. He pushed his hand into the opening, easily fingering his way into the flap of the blond's boxers and finally getting that blessed heavy, thick heat into the palm of his hand.

"Ahh!" Danny choked at the unexpected sensation of direct contact with Steve's rough palm. "I'll claim it was under duress. Sexual duress! because your killing me." He honestly didn't know how he was stringing anything coherent together right now. "Are we almost there? You should stop. I'm not going to last. God, please don't stop?" he whined.

"I got you, baby." Steve assured him in a husky voice, the man pulled out of his zipper. With the state the detective was in, he didn't seem to realize that Steve had already pulled into his driveway at home. He turned his full attention to his partner, taking in every bit of him, of this moment, trembling through his body, with a sniper's eyes. "I'm right here, Danno. Come for me, babe, come on."

"Steve!" Danny rose as far as his seatbelt would allow, straining against it as he shot his load onto his dashboard and the glove box with a swipe of the thumb across his leaking slit, Steve pumping him through it. Finally, he slumped back into the seat, shivers of jolting pleasure trembling through his body as Steve tucked him back into his pants; his blue-eyes fluttering in his wake.

Steve licked away the cum that had gotten on his fingers before he leaned across, caressing the panting man's nape and bring him in for a post-climax, lounging kiss with the taste of himself on Steve tongue as it petted his own in languid strokes.

"Shit, Steve." Danny slumped his head against the man's strong shoulder. "Babe, that... that..."

"Yeah?" Steve chuckled in amusement, his fingertip petting the man's thrumming jugular. Had he really rendered the famous Danny Williams Mouth speechless?

"That totally wrecked my dashboard. If that stains, I'm going to be really upset with you."

"That's all you have to say? Why am I not surprised?"

Danny lifted his head, an easy smirk on his lips as he looked at him with satiation and continued embers of arousal of want. "Because you know me. If you don't have to change then you're just going to have to deal with what you see in front of you, buddy." He reach up and traced Steve bottom lip with his thumb. "How about it?"

"I like what I see." And Steve dipped his chin, taking Danny's lingering thumb between his lips, swirling his tongue around the short digit.

Danny groaned at the sight. "I wish I was a teenager again," if only so he could get it up again faster.

Steve chuckled around his thumb. He was going to wipe any impression Phil had left on Danny's plane of existence out of being.

Danny pulled his thumb out from Steve's mouth and kissed him, his hand shifting on his face, his wet thumb leaving a smear of saliva on Steve's cheek. Danny's other hand fumbled to unlatch the seatbelt restraining him. And now he was the leaning into Steve across the center consol.

"What happened to waiting until we get to my bed?" Steve questioned, his arm going around Danny's waist, tugging his shirt from his belt so he could palm the bare skin at the curve of the small of his back.

Danny shivered and said between kisses and gasps: "Too far, besides... my cum's already all over the place. I want your's there, too." The hand that wasn't supporting him on the edge of the door over Steve's shoulder, started working on the man's belt.

Steve's free hand joined him, and his aching hard, leaking cock was freed fast. He moaned, his head thumping back against the door as Danny took him in hand, pumping him. "Danny,"

"I'm right here." He whispered, "I'm not going anywhere, babe." He kissed the length of the man's exposed neck. "I got you," he sucked a bruise into the flesh, marking the man. "Are you going to cum for me, Steve?" he asked breathless, licking the newborn hickey.

"Mmm," Steve groaned his agreement.

"Going to cum calling my name?" he leaned back, watching his usually stoic SuperSEAL come apart beneath him.

"Danno," his eyes fluttered open and he locked eyes with the blond.

"That's right. Now cum for, Steve. Now!" Danny squeezed his cock and it was like a cork suddenly coming free, unable to stand the pressure.

"Danno!" the angle of his body was twisted as his hips sputtered into Danny's hand as he came. His legs still tucked in the driver's foot space as his torso was twisted toward Danny leaning over him from the other seat. His ejaculation splashed across the wheel, under the steering column, and even the buttons of the radio.

He slumped back, not caring for the uncomfortable position as he pulled Danny against him, chest-to-chest, completely undone.

"I knew I'd get you to finally take order from me," Danny told him, brushing the tips of their noses together in an Eskimo kiss, amusement in his bright blue-eyes. "It only took getting a collar around you," he gave the base of Steve's spent, sensitive cock a gentle squeeze in implication.

"Fuck," Steve shuddered, carding his fingers through Danny's lightly sex-sweat-damp hair.

"Later," Danny promised. "I was promised both a dinner and breakfast." He was probably going to have to get his car upholstered, but it was well worth it if it meant that he finally got Steve. "I plan to collect on that and a lot more."

[end]

HAWAII . FIVE - 0 / The — Hangover

Well, that ended up a little more raunchy with the hand jobS than I had originally intended. I was really only going to do a little fondling of Danny and that was it, honest. But I hope you like this more. It was my first attempt at Steve/Danny slash and I really hope/intend to do more.

y