Score

You look up from your paperwork thinking now's a good time for a break. You'd have gone home hours ago, but really, the report needs to be finished and he's not there. So why? Why give in, give up, and call it day. You could go back to the house, but the drive home would be too quiet. No Danny talking or arguing with you. No sound of the fridge opening as he takes out a beer, making himself at home on your sofa, butt planted firmly in his corner. No one ever sits there but him. It's as if there is a sign there that says "Danny's". You're not sure how you feel about that.

He spends a lot of his time with you when he's not with Grace or working on a case. You've never realized how much of your day revolves around him. Right now, you feel that emptiness keenly, because he's not here to fill up the space, the silence. No, he's on Moloka'i. Chasing down a lead with Chin. And you can't remember why you sent Chin instead of going with Danny yourself like you usually do. Frustrated, your pen hits the desk and you lean back, hands behind your head.

You think.

Let your thoughts wander.

Pieces build, twist, images fitting themselves into a whole like you used to do when you were in Naval Intelligence. It's how you process. When there is too much data and not enough of a solid lead. It works for you. As you open your mind to the possibilities, pictures form in your head. Danny, his hands tucked into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. Just a silent presence backing you up. Ready to move at a moment's notice in violence or retreat. For someone who talks as much as Danny does, it's amazing how still he can be.

How he leans in so near to talk to you. Like that time at dinner with his brother. Was there really a need to be that close? He'd touched your arm to make his point as if he couldn't resist. The smile that lit up his face describing putting handcuffs on his brother.

His face is remarkably expressive. His emotions on display for everyone to see. The love that he has for his daughter. You know that he loved Rachel just as much because every once in a while, it's there. In a look or a twist of his mouth. How sometimes he looks at you the same way. You blink, thinking that maybe you're on the right track to figuring him out.

How about that day on the beach? When the entire team was hanging out, Danny in his swimming trunks that honestly should have been thrown away. They hid more than was strictly necessary. He wasn't classically cut, but the strength in his arms and chest were on display. A hint of powerful leg muscles just beneath the cuffs of his shorts. Women were looking, how could they not? He was too serious, too intense. You wanted to see the passion. That's when Danno shown the most.

How gentle Danny could be. That one hits you hard. Pure clarity. Blinding and stark in its power.

You see him in your bed.

And your breath has just been taken away. Doubling over to rest your head on your knees because this was not something you expected. It was too much. To disquieting. Surprising. Upsetting.

You should not be thinking about your partner this way. That's the kind of thinking that could get you killed. Has killed men before.

But now that you see it, you can't not see. Your bedroom, Danny on your rumpled sheets. And God, you want that. The wind drifting in from the cove, cooling the sweat on your skin, on his. Oh hell, that's stunning. His breathing harsh in the quiet of the room. And his blue eyes so focused you, heavy lidded and still wanting even though you've just spent the last hour touching him. Pleasing him. Ruining him for anyone else. And doesn't that just make you want him even more.

This is what Danny would look like, you think, as your breath comes faster and faster. If you don't get a handle on yourself, you are going to pass out. You reach for control, shaken and fighting for air. You can smell the musky scent of him in the office with you. His cologne, that you didn't realize you knew, in the air. Slightly spicy, and sharp.

And you want more. Imagine more, even though you shouldn't.

Your hands on his skin. Your palms inching at the wanting to feel, to touch him. Feel the hair on his arms, on his chest rough and masculine, his blood burning under your hands. Would his breath hitch with a touch to his wrist? Like it did that time you grabbed him to keep him from moving when Sang Min was threatening Kono. That slight twitch under your finger tips. You didn't even realize that you'd filed that reaction under "Danny" in your head.

Would he do the same thing if you ran your hand over his jaw? You want to do that, touch his face at the end of the day, when stubble is just starting to appear, rough and unkempt. And that mouth. What would it be like to kiss him? Fuck, you are in so much trouble. You want to feel him under your hands, your mouth, pressed against your body. Feel and taste and smell.

What would he taste like? Salty, needy, the power just waiting to come to life, always ready in his muscles. Every flex in response your touch, as your tongue tastes him for the first time, and the next, and the next. Each bite, each sample new and different and exciting. Rich. His mouth, no longer pinched but open, waiting? Would he taste of the coffee that he drinks every day? You want to know. You need to know now.

What would his legs feel like wrapped around you? Would he grip you tightly? Muscles tense, holding you in place, because that's how he wants you. Pushing against his ass. Straining, wanting to thrust inside of him. Controlling you. Making you work for it. He's made you work for his respect since the day you met him. Challenged you in every way.

There's more here than sex. Danny doesn't do casual. It's not in his genetic makeup. Danny puts his whole heart into everything. You couldn't even approach him without knowing that, and fuck if that doesn't make you want him more.

You can imagine the heat of his body as you slide into him for the first time, because yeah, he trusts you enough to do this. Has a confidence in you that you don't feel in yourself, but you've seen it on his face before. When you've least expected it. There's nothing quick or rushed as his body closes around you. It's almost too much. Tight. And you want to curse because right then the rumble of his moan that's half pain and half ecstasy, reaches in you and pulls at you. You are so close already and you've just begun. You pause, resting your forehead against his, sharing the same air. Waiting until you hear him snarling for you to just fucking move.

You want that sound to repeat against you for, forever. You capture his lips again, the desperation you feel bleeding through your kiss because you want to please him so much. You want this, him. He's the one allowing you into his body, but it's you who fills so full. His cock hot and heavy, throbbing against your stomach. You can feel the ache building in him as you thrust smooth, steady, and deep.

He's almost there. You can feel it in the fingers that are digging into your forearms, in his legs that are becoming ever tighter on your flanks, in the counts of his gasps as you hit that spot inside of him that makes every man come apart at the seams. He's pushing against you to make you go faster, harder, but you won't give in. You want to see him fall apart. It's your only goal now. This is such a gift to see the pleasure rolling across the shudders in his muscles and the expressions on his face. You can't believe how lucky you are in this moment. You are responsible for this. You made this happiness. You.

Just as he comes, you are startled out of your daydream by the sound of his voice no longer in your head.

"Hey! Sleeping Beauty!" And Danny's there, in the flesh, touching you.

Fuck. You feel wetness spilling into your cargoes, but you can't let on what's going on, because, yeah, it was Danny's voice, his hand that brings you off. His presence taking over your office where you shouldn't have been having these thoughts in the first place.

You shudder and breathe. His name on the edge of your tongue wanting to be released.

"Steve?"

You sit up, take your head off the desk, not even realizing when you'd moved to put it there, your mask slipping into place. The one you always use when you don't want to get caught or don't know how to react. But you don't get up from your desk, because right now you are trying desperately to control your breathing and don't have any idea what the front of your cargos look like and you're afraid. You pull your t-shirt down with one hand and wipe your face with the other.

And there he is, his eyes bright with victory and you think again how much you want him. No more so than at this moment because the happiness in his eyes bleeds into the world around him. And you have to let it go. Let it go, let it settle because what you want can never happen. It would mean that you'd give up these moments. And that's something you can't do. You couldn't not see him every day. Couldn't be limited to mornings or nights or whatever time in between your job and his if you took that step.

"Danno." You nod. Your voice is too deep and not right tone for someone who'd been asleep. And you don't know it, but that one word tells him more than you wanted to let him know. It's made him pause and really look at you. "How'd it go?"

"Score one for the good guys. What are you still doing here?" There's concern written in every line of body, in the way his eyebrows draw together.

You gesture at your desk. "Paperwork."

He snorts, obviously not convinced. "What, by osmosis? You know, it usually requires a pen and ink. Movement across the paper. You might be convincing if you'd been doing more than breathing heavy when I came in."

You flip him off and go to grab your ballpoint but he grabs it instead.

"Alright, so don't tell me. However, whatever you were dreaming about has obviously put you in a bad mood. I'm in the mood for beer. You look like you could use one yourself. Now, get off your ass, Cinderella. You can drop me off on your way home." That makes you laugh breaking the mood in what could have been too dangerous for you both.

"Where's Chin?" You grab your shield and your gun from your desk drawer, a smile breaking across your face. The world is righting itself.

"I saw your truck and sent him home. I figured one of us should make sure that you left the office sometime today. Come on, babe. I'm driving."

"It's my truck!"

He smirks, and just like that…

You think that maybe you can have him. In your bed, sheets rumpled, sweat covering you both and his hand on your cock, stroking in time to his voice encouraging you to come. That it might be worth testing the waters to see what might happen if you let it. Waking up to Danny. Every day. Especially if you can come home to him like that every night.

The End.