The cold was achingly deep at night, not like where he grew up. The Humvee rumbled down the dirt road, taking the potholes and uneven track in its stride, and the dark-haired man settled himself back into the front passenger seat. He would be glad to see the back of Afghanistan, and his team were excited to be leaving the country in three days.

The four men in the vehicle with him were joking and digging at each other, their comradery heartening after a long, hard tour, and he let himself soak in the atmosphere. The driver, his best friend and ever the wise-cracker, was finding imaginative ways to insult one of the other guy's mothers, and getting a whole lot of mouth in return, and the man laughed as he listened to their humour.

The huge blast which took the truck up off its wheels was louder than anything he'd heard in a long time, his whole body was jarred as he was flung though the air and searing, burning agony tore through his back and legs.

He lost consciousness as the majority of the Humvee hit the ground upside down, the rest having been ripped open by the IED. When he came to, he was staring into his friend's open, unseeing eyes. His best friend. Dead.

He screamed for his team members, called their names into the night. No one answered.

It was pitch black out there, the only light to see by now coming from the burning wreckage of the vehicle he'd been travelling in. Everything came in flashes as his battered head tried to cope with taking the situation in. He'd been flung from the vehicle, but not far enough, and he knew the fuel tank might soon go up.

He'd never experienced anything like the torturous agony which flashed up his spine as he strained to drag himself from the scene. He couldn't use his legs, couldn't feel them, and he tore the skin of his fingers and palms of his hands on the stones as he hauled himself forward.

The tank exploded behind him and he threw his hands over his head to protect it from the shower of burning metal which followed.

The pain was unbelievable. He lay his head on the ground and wept into the dirt. The likelihood of him surviving the night was slim to none. His men were dead, his best friend, the look on his face... and he knew, just knew that the hot stabbing injury in his spine meant he would probably never walk again.

He felt grief and anger wash through him, and he screamed out in anguish again. Because however much he may have wanted to see his dad again, his home, Hawaii… in that moment with the agony and the death and the prospect of a bleak future if he made it through the night, Steve McGarrett didn't want to live.

Steve cried out as his eyes shot open, his hands fisted in the sheets, sweat running down his face and growing cold on his skin. His breathing was coming in ragged gasps and he scrubbed desperately at the tears flowing freely down his face.

"Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck..."

A hand closed around his bicep and, still panicked, he shouted, ripped the hand from his arm and struck out, catching something solid in the darkness with his fist.

"Motherfucker!" Someone yelped in a surprised Jersey accent, though he barely heard it.

The ex-SEAL was scrambling from the bed, his legs tangling in the sheets, and he fell to the floor on his back still with his feet caught in the covers, knocking his head on the floor and stunning himself.

The bedside light flickered on and a blonde man's head and bare shoulders appeared over the side of the bed next to his legs, face tired and confused, eyes full of concern. "Babe?"

Steve stared at him, unable to think straight, his fuzzy mind finding it difficult to discern reality from dream. He'd been in Afghanistan. He'd been blown up. He'd died, hadn't he? Or close enough to it to be unsure, even with the blood pumping in his ears and the air whooshing through his throat from his heaving lungs.

But this couldn't be real either, because there was an attractive man in his bed, and he didn't know him. In fact, this wasn't his bed, or his house. There was a photo of the blonde with a young brunette girl in a frame on the wall, and the house smelled of lasagne and sex. And they both appeared to be naked. None of it made sense.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, telling himself that whatever he was seeing had to be real life, because he couldn't still be dreaming. This felt real, Afghanistan hadn't filled his senses like this room did. The carpet pressed into his back, the slowly-easing twinge in the back of his head, the warm night air on his skin from the window which was cracked open slightly, the mix of smells and the sound of the man shifting on the bed.

When he opened his eyes again, his breathing was slightly slower, and the other man was still there. His warm hand was on Steve's knee where it was positioned on the edge of the bed, calves up on the mattress, and his thumb was tracing soothing little circles on the inside of it while he gazed down at the brunette. His eyes showed unease and worry; they were a gorgeous blue-grey, like glaciers. He felt calmer already, just staring into those deep pools of blue. Cool water to quench the flames of his fear.

Flames… that meant something.

Fuck, had the terror really managed to temporarily wipe his memory of the past two days? Of meeting his new neighbour, putting out the fire in his kitchen, the unbelievably hot sex?

"Danny..."

The cop continued to stroke his lover's knee, ignoring the pain blossoming in his cheek, and wondered what the hell was going on. This was not the kind of wake up call he was used to, especially at three in the morning.

It had been a huge shock to be torn from his rather pleasant dreams. He'd been woken by soft whimpers and the man next to him moving erratically in his sleep, mumbling and wincing. Then he'd begun to say names, his hoarse voice awash with fear, and Danny had been just about to wake his companion when Steve had jumped and yelled, and he'd stupidly put his hand on him. The guy was a trained weapon, what had he expected other than a fist in his face?

His cursing response had been automatic. But that didn't matter right now, because Steve looked so very scared. Less like a military man and more like a frightened little boy; a stricken expression marred his beautiful features with deep lines, his hazel eyes creased in confusion, a sheen of sweated covering his skin and his pulse jumping in his neck.

"Yeah, it's me... you okay?" He kept his voice low and soft. It must have been a bad dream. Maybe it was the bomb, or some military flashback?

The brunette seemed to come back to himself, and he rolled and dragged his legs off the bed, staggering to his feet on the carpet.

"I uh... Fuck... I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me..." He ran his hands through his hair, which was sticking up in all directions from being in bed.

"It's okay, c'mere," Danny was gesturing for him to get back into the bed, but Steve was still wired, his heart beat still not back to normal.

"Uh, give me a minute..." he stumbled into the bathroom, blinding himself with the light when he turned it on and it reflected off all the shiny white and chrome, a harsh contrast to the dull light from the lamp in the bedroom.

He scooped cool water from under the tap and splashed his face, staring at his haggard face in the mirror as he leaned heavily on the basin. Those nightmares, those memories, truly were the most hated thing in his life. What must I look like? Poor Danny, he probably thinks I'm insane...

He'd spent practically the whole of the Saturday with the detective; after the fantastic sex, the shorter man had introduced the former SEAL to the idea of a long, hot shower. He was used to his three-minute Navy showers, and had tried to sprint through it out of habit while the cop had stared at him in amazement, before laughing and pushing him up against the tiles, showing him it was good to take it slowly and enjoy the warmth.

Then they had gone grocery shopping in Steve's Silverado, and teased each other for their preferences on certain food items - Steve's healthy, boring diet vs Danny's heart attack-worthy choice of snack foods - and joked and bickered like an old married couple and yet acting like children in the aisles. Everything had felt so... easy...

And they'd moved Steve's remaining things into his house, ignored the fresh groceries in favour of ordering in Chinese food and putting a DVD on after setting up the brunette's television. And then they'd ignored the movie because they found each other's mouths much more interesting. They'd fallen asleep on the couch together, and although Steve had experienced a nightmare and jerked awake, he hadn't woken Danny that time. It had taken him ages to calm his pulse again, and had focused on the blonde's slow, gentle breathing to steady himself.

He'd thought his first night in his new house was going to be lonely. Danny had changed that.

And Sunday had been filled with more of the same; sprawling on the couch with his lover, getting to know one another, and he'd asked all about his new friend's life back in Jersey, his family and his daughter. Danny had shared, freely and honestly, and Steve had felt so guilty for not returning the favour.

When the blonde had asked him about his own life, he'd talked briefly about his parents, his sister and his childhood, and nothing more of any real substance. He'd boiled the details of his military life down to basic facts and platitudes, and claims of classification, some true and some false. Unable, or unwilling, to share.

And seeming to understand, the Jersey man hadn't pressed him, never demanding or expecting a return on what he gave so openly. He was intriguing, and the brunette was beguiled by him.

They'd gone back over to the cop's house and he'd made them a wonderful lasagne, and they had later fallen into bed together again, learning more about each other's bodies, taking their lazy time in contrast to the heady rush of the first day.

Steve's pulse returned to normal, the memories of the previous days soothing him. Knowing Danny was in the next room waiting for him was enough to bring a ghost of a smile to his face.

When the taller man walked back into the bedroom, turning off the bathroom light and looking altogether more human, Danny offered him a warm grin from where he now leaned up against the headboard.

"Hey, you done messing me around? I have work in the morning, y'know..." He figured humour would be best right now, knowing now that his neighbour found it hard to discuss his past. He was rewarded with a small, grateful smile.

"Sorry, I have these... it's not every night, but..." He trailed off and looked at the floor, feeling like he should explain, but finding it so hard.

"C'mon, get back here," the cop lifted the sheets and patted at the empty space next to him. Steve climbed back into the bed and looked at him properly for the first time. Horror spread across his face.

"Oh shit, Danny, I hit you!" He looked mortified, and he kneeled on the mattress and put his hands up to cup Danny's jaw, his right thumb smoothing across the reddening mark on his left cheekbone.

The detective slid his hands over the brunette's. "I'm okay, don't you worry about that. You didn't mean to." He knew it was an accident, had already forgiven the taller man, but it looked like he was still going to blame himself.

"I can't believe I did this to you, I'm so sorry." He leaned in and kissed the blonde, and then put his lips gently to the hot skin, which was already showing signs of bruising. He remembered landed the punch now, in the haze of panic, and it had been hard. Fuck, what have I done? Why does this always ruin everything? "I just... the dreams, they..." He shut his eyes tight and shook his head, throat closing up. He couldn't explain.

But the other man just shushed him, leaning in to kiss the ex-Navy man on the lips in return. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Steve. C'mon, go back to sleep," he whispered, and then pulled the former SEAL down to lie against him, placing the man's head against his bare chest.

Steve couldn't understand how this man could be so kind-hearted, so warm and good to him. They barely knew each other, and he'd just freaked out, had a panic attack, hit him, albeit not on purpose... and he was holding him. His heart swelled and tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

Danny reached to switch the lamp off and slipped his arm around Steve's shoulders, fingers going into his dark hair as a source of comfort for them both. He'd known the man for less than forty-eight hours, and already he felt some strange need to protect him, look after him, keep him safe from whatever it was that was harming him. Because Steve was used to fighting bad guys he could see, but his current battle was with an enemy who was wholly invisible.

He held him close and waited for the former SEAL to fall asleep, for his muscles to relax and his breathing to steady.

He gently kissed the top of his head. "I got you, babe."

"What in God's name happened to you, bruh?"

Meka Hanamoa stood over his partner's desk in the bullpen at HPD with his arms crossed and an amused look on his face. The blonde sighed and reflexively put his hand up to his bruised face.

"Uh, it's a long story, Mek," he muttered. He'd known he was going to get nothing but hassle from his colleagues the moment he'd seen himself in the mirror that morning, but there was no way he could avoid it. The bruise was now a deep purple, and sat high on his cheekbone and reached the corner of his left eye, so although it was a relatively small mark, it was nonetheless an obvious one.

Meka dumped himself into his chair at the desk opposite Danny's and waved his hand in a circular motion, prompting for more. "Continue..." he grinned.

He was his best friend, he could be honest with the guy. But this was not the place.

"You want coffee?" He stood and grabbed his badge and gun off the desk, implying it wasn't break room coffee he was after.

"Oh wow, it's a story that can't be told in the office? This I have to hear!" The Hawaiian man was practically pushing the blonde out of the door in his haste to hear the gossip.

"Your neighbour? Are you kidding me, D?" They sat opposite each other in a small cafe around the corner from the precinct, and Detective Hanamoa was prodding Danny's chest with a sharp finger. "You silly bastard, you do realise if this goes south, you'll be living next door to an ex?"

The Jersey man shook his head. "It gets worse... I mean, I don't know, I don't think it's gonna go bad. We just click, you know? But..."

"What? Come on, don't leave me hanging!" He poked him again across the table and Danny slapped his hand away.

He put his coffee down and rubbed at his eyes with the balls of his hands. "You remember Captain McGarrett telling us about his son? The quarterback who went into the Navy and got hurt?"

"Yeah, what's that got to... oh my god! Danny, Jesus, don't tell me it's..." Meka burst out laughing at his partner's mortified expression. Danny had to simply lean back in his seat and cross his arms, waiting for his friend to stop guffawing. "Are you fucking lolo, dude?" He was still snickering.

"Have I ever told you that you're really helpful, Mek? It's always great to have you by my side in a crisis..."

The native man slapped the table in delight. "You've made my day, Danny. Seriously. Oh god, does the boss know?"

"No! Jeez, and I'm not telling him! I've only known Steve for two days and I... I don't know what this is or where it's going, but I sure as hell am not tell my Captain I'm sleeping with his son!" Danny's phone began to ring and he slipped it out of his pocket.

"Twice," Meka smirked.

"Not helpful," the blonde pointed a stern finger at his friend, though he had a smile on his face, and answered his phone, "Williams."

Hanamoa finished his coffee while he waited for his partner.

"We'll be there," he ended the call and stood up, swiping up his takeaway cup, "We gotta go, body found in a dumpster on Kalakaua Avenue."

They left the cafe and Meka slapped him on the back as they headed for the Camaro parked at the side of the road. "Boned twice by a Navy SEAL and you can still walk? I'm impressed..."

"Shut up, Meka!"

It was a long day, working the crime scene, interviewing potential witnesses and processing evidence. It was almost six by the time the partners walked back through the precinct door.

Danny held the door for his friend, and Meka strolled past him with two box files from the lab in his hands. He stopped suddenly at the entrance to the bullpen and looked back at the blonde. "I'm... gonna go get us some coffee. Here, take these to the desks." Then he shoved the files into Danny's hands and bolted for the break room.

What the hell has got into him? Danny wondered, but as he turned back to their desks he suddenly understood why.

Standing next to his station was Captain John McGarrett, and leaning against the wooden desk with his arms crossed, chatting to his father, was Steve.

The Jersey man glanced back in the direction of his retreating supposed best friend. "Coward!" he hissed.

He wound through the desks to his station, hoping this wasn't a 'meet the parents' moment, because he really wasn't prepared for that. His lover wouldn't do that to him, right?

As he approached, Steve glanced up and smiled, and it was like sunshine. He was wearing black suit pants and a dark blue shirt which had the top three buttons undone; the colour made his eyes seem more intense somehow, and he looked gorgeous. Danny couldn't help the grin forming on his own face, and he hoped John wouldn't notice just how happy his colleague was to see his son.

"Hey, there he is," Steve nodded over to the approaching detective, and McGarrett senior turned to look at him.

"Williams, there you are. You didn't tell me my boy was your new neighbour?"

Danny dropped the files on Meka's desk, because his friend was going to be the one to start on the damn paperwork after abandoning him to the sharks.

"Sorry sir, it's uh... been a busy morning. I only found out myself on Saturday," he gestured toward the brunette, who had a little smirk on his face to show he was entertained by his lover's awkwardness.

"Yeah, Danny here helped me move in. He was extremely helpful. Gave me a malasada too," While his father was still facing away from him and looking at Danny, Steve raised his eyebrows and licked his lips at the blonde, and Danny immediately wanted to smack him.

"See Steven, I told you that you'd have no problem assimilating back into civilian life," John was saying, and turned back to his son, "You've made friends with someone already, and Danny's a very good influence. Eighty-seven solved homicide cases under his belt."

"Soon to be eighty-eight, I'm sure," the younger McGarrett gestured toward the files, "and it's nice to know you're a good influence..."

Danny didn't miss the little sparkle in his neighbour's eyes, and he prayed to god that his boss hadn't noticed.

John was giving his colleague a funny look. "What happened to your face, Williams? You look like you've been in a fight with a truck and lost..."

"Something like that..." The detective mumbled awkwardly and walked around the two men to drop his gun and badge on the desk and settle into his seat, trying to relax.

"Yeah, that was my fault dad," the brunette put his hand up, and Danny's heart started doing the samba. What the fuck is he going to say? I punched your detective in bed last night? His mind had a tenancy to automatically jump to the worst conclusion. Steve continued. "He was helping me move in and I couldn't see past the box I was holding, so I accidentally hit him with my elbow..."

Thank god...

The elder McGarrett rolled his eyes. "Try not to damage my detectives, Steven, I need them fit for work..."

While his dad wasn't looking, Steve looked at Danny and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Bastard, he's baiting me!

He was saved by Meka arriving at his desk, without the coffees he'd promised - proof he'd just been avoiding any potential awkwardness. "Captain," the native man nodded at John.

"Detective Hanamoa, this is my son, Steve," John turned his attention to Meka and Danny breathed a sigh of relief now the focus was off him.

The two men introduced themselves and shook hands, and his friend was doing a very good job of pretending he didn't know anything.

His lover turned back to him, giving him a little wink. Danny surreptitiously flipped him the bird, silently trying to tell him through his eyes that he was going to get him back for this. Weirdly, the brunette seemed to understand him, as if they had some psychic communication going on, and raised his eyebrows in an expression that said 'Oh really? I'd like to see you try...'

Then he spoke to the group. "I was thinking of maybe having a small house warming party on Saturday. Invite dad and Mary, and some people from the precinct so I can get to know a few friendly faces... would you like to come, Meka? Danny?"

While his partner graciously accepted the invitation, the blonde tried not to glare. Yeah, great, keep putting me in a confined area with you and your dad, sounds like a great idea! "I'll have to see, I've got my daughter this weekend and we might be doing something..."

Steve had completely forgotten about Danny's custody arrangements. He'd told him during their chat on Sunday, but it had escaped his mind that his neighbour would be scheduled to have Grace that weekend. He didn't even consider the implications of his next words until they were out of his mouth.

"Bring her to the barbecue if you like?"

Danny's eyes widened, and the former SEAL suddenly realised what he'd done. They didn't even really know if they were in a relationship, if this was just sex or if it was going somewhere, what it all meant... and he'd just suggested that he meet Danny's kid! Wow, McGarrett, you sure know how to handle civilian life, huh?

Before the blonde could answer, John's hand was clapping the detective on the shoulders. "It's settled then! It'll be nice to see Grace again, I got on well with her at the HPD family day a couple of months back," he smiled at Danny, who nodded, still a little shell-shocked. "Write up your reports on today's cases before you leave, boys. I'll see you later, Steve." And then he was sauntering across the bullpen towards his office.

Meka made a noise which sounded like he was developing a hernia trying to hold in his laughter.

"I will punch you. I will punch you so hard," Danny grouched at him again, jabbing his finger in the other man's direction, "and where the fuck is my coffee that you abandoned me to make, huh?"

The native man snorted and looked back at Steve. "It was nice to meet you, bud." And then he made a beeline for the break room again, obviously thinking it might be good for him to make nice with his partner and bring him some caffeine after all.

"See you on Saturday!" The brunette called after him.

Danny looked back at Steve. "And you, don't talk about me and you and malasadas in front of your father again!" He tried to sound angry, but he was smiling.

"Ooh, I do like it when you're commanding," he purred, and Danny suddenly found he had to shift in his seat to disguise a semi brought on just by that silky voice.

"Fuck off..." He was still smiling.

Steve sobered his expression. "Listen, you don't need to come this weekend. That was stupid of me, I wasn't thinking." He ran his hand through his hair, a little embarrased. "I don't want to steal your weekend with your little girl..."

Danny gave him a warm smile, though his voice was a little uncertain. "I dunno, I'll think about it…" And then he changed the subject to alleviate the pressure. "What's with the smart getup anyway? You actually look presentable for once…"

Steve looked down at his outfit and smiled, because this was the first time his neighbour had seen him in anything other than board shorts, underwear, or his birthday suit. "I had a meeting at the bank regarding my business loan. I had to look like a respectable human being. That happens occasionally y'know… and don't get me going on clothes, because you're wearing a fucking tie…"

The blonde's work clothes consisted of a pair of dark grey slacks, patent leather loafers, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal his forearms, and most interestingly to Steve, being a native of these islands, a silky dark blue tie.

"What's wrong with my tie?" Danny gave him a soft frown.

Steve snorted and resisted the urge to reach out and tug on it, filing it away to mock the detective over later. Instead, the therapist looked over at the pile of files. "I'm guessing you might be late leaving tonight, but come knock on my door when you're home, yeah?"

"I will," he promised and smirked, "and next time you decide to pop in and ambush me with your dad, could you give me some prior warning?"

Steve ducked in as low as he could without it looking too intimate, his voice changing to a whisper. "You know what's weird? With all the talking and eating and fucking, we never actually exchanged phone numbers..."

Danny took a moment to respond, because he appeared to be staring at Steve's mouth. "Oh... yeah... there is that..."

The therapist grinned and licked his lips, watching the blonde shiver and flick his blue eyes up to meet his gaze.

"You're a bit of a bastard, you know that McGarrett?" His voice was a little hoarse.

"Mm hm, well you can tell me off for it later, huh?" He let his best shit-eating grin slip onto his face, and then turned and strolled out of the precinct, leaving the blonde trying to remember how to breathe properly.

Danny pulled into his driveway and shut his door quietly. He walked up to his neighbour's door and raised his hand to knock, but reconsidered. It was after midnight, and however much he wanted to see Steve, he knew it was way too late in the evening, and the man's lights were all off anyway.

He headed across their connecting front lawns to his own door, but just as he was putting his key in his lock, there was a noise far over to his right, and he looked up to see Steve in his doorway.

"You'd better not be skipping out on your promise, Williams..." He'd changed out of his suit pants and into jeans, but he was still wearing that blue shirt.

The blonde smiled. "Sorry, I figured it was too late, and there were no lights on, so..."

The taller man shook his head, smiling. "I was just watching a movie. Come on," he gestured inside with his head, "I think you've had a tough day, maybe I could give you a shoulder massage? I need to apologise for last night… and today, actually…"

Well that wasn't ever something he wanted to pass up on. Danny pulled his keys back out and made his way back to his lover, who stepped aside to let him walk through the door.

Steve let his gaze drift up and down the shorter man's body as he walked past him, his eyes pausing on his ass and, when he turned around, that ridiculous tie.

It had been pulled tight up to his neck earlier, with only his top button open under it despite the Hawaiian heat, although now it was at half mast and his top three buttons were open, revealing a healthy portion of blonde-stubbled throat and hairy chest.

"Who wears a tie in Hawaii?" The brunette smirked, trying not to drool. He flicked a lamp on in the corner of the otherwise dark room, bathing their surroundings in soft yellow light, and flicked the television off.

Danny dumped himself into the couch and picked at the strip of fabric hanging around his neck. "Again with the damned tie? Meka complains about it too… I'm just trying to look like a professional," he said simply.

"A professional what?" Steve teased.

The blonde sighed dramatically. "Would you prefer for me to take the offending item off?" His hands went to his tie, but Steve approached from behind and slid his own fingers into the knot.

"I'd like the honour of doing that..."

His long fingers worked their way into the silky material and began to slip the tail through the loop, but he took his sweet time doing it, feeling the heat of the other man's shoulders under his arms and breathing in the scent of him. The brunette bent down over the back of the couch to kiss the side of the cop's neck and ear as he finished undoing the tie and allowed his hands to roam over the man's broad chest, fingers sliding under the v-shaped opening of his shirt.

Danny was moaning softly at the touch, his eyes closed and goosebumps raising wherever Steve's lips and hands touched.

"Your shirt offends me too..." The therapist hinted.

"Mmm... feel free to get rid of that too..." His hands were gripping at the couch cushions as he resisted the urge to grab the taller man, letting him take control and do as he wished.

His deft fingers travelled downward and popped open each of Danny's buttons in turn, tugging the cotton from his waistband until his chest and stomach were laid bare, and he ran his hands over the dark blonde hair as his lips continued to assault his lover's ear.

"Stand up," he whispered, and Danny reluctantly pushed up from the couch, but was quickly rewarded with Steve circling around to him and leaning down for a kiss while he unbuttoned the detective's pants. He slowly stripped both of them until they were completely naked, kissing Danny's lips and skin the whole time, drawing little breathy noises from him which tickled the primal parts of Steve's brain. The taller man ran his hands up the cop's back and enjoyed the feel of his warm skin, their kiss deepening and growing dirty.

"Lie on your front on the couch, I'll be back," his voice was rough from arousal, and he turned on his heel to disappear of out the room.

The Jersey man was still trying to recover his senses, because Steve's lips and tongue were very talented and distracting things, and it took him a moment for the command to sink in. He lay on the couch with his arms folded up under his head and waited, his cock already hard from being uncovered and kissed so thoroughly, and the anticipation of what was to come.

The brunette returned with a handful of items and climbed onto the couch to settle behind Danny, his knees going either side of the blonde's thighs and his dick resting hard against the cleft of the shorter man's ass, making him shiver.

He poured some massage oil into his hands and rubbed them together until it was warm, before liberally smoothing it over the detective's tight shoulders. The smell of the oil was warm and spicy, and Danny breathed it in deeply as the therapist began to work at the muscles and knots with his thumbs and the heels of his hands, pulling more groans from the man underneath as he helped him relax.

It felt so good, after being at the crime scene for most of the day, and then sitting at his desk for hours typing reports and eating crap Chinese with Meka, to have the strains of the day kneaded out of him. Steve was using his weight to press hard into the muscle and push the air from his lungs in pleasured huffs.

Steve's strong hands manipulating the muscle, making quick work of the tension, moving up his neck, and then back over his shoulders and down his spine until he reached his lower back, where he released the tightness there with practiced ease.

Danny chuckled. "Fuck, your sports massages are going to be the most popular on the island, babe... I'm gonna have to fight off horny footballers that have fallen in love with your hands..."

Steve kissed the base of his neck. "This is a deep tissue massage, reserved only for very special clients." His hot breath skated over the detective's skin and made him sigh.

"I'm glad you think I'm special," the blonde purred playfully, and moaned filthily as the former SEAL pressed low on his back and kneaded deep into the flesh there.

"Oh, you are," came the simple reply, and he smiled. A warm feeling spread through his body, and it wasn't just the massage causing it. He wasn't sure what they had yet, but he knew it was more than just a bit of fun, more than sex; he wanted it to be more. And it seemed like his neighbour felt the same way.

He heard a bottle cap click open, and moments later fingers were smoothing lube in between his cheeks. He parted his thighs as much as he was able to with Steve kneeling over him, and the brunette teased at his ring with one finger while his other hand continued to rub up Danny's spine and keep him relaxed. He'd probably never felt so tranquil in his life, this being the first professional massage he'd ever received, and if it wasn't for the arousal it was causing he'd probably be asleep by now. He moaned encouragingly as the former SEAL's finger swiped down over his perineum and back up to press lightly at his entrance.

Open-mouthed kisses were laid in a long line down his back as his lover slipped his first finger inside carefully, and he continued his massage with his hand moving to the back of the blonde's neck. As he squeezed there, Danny let out a low whine and his cock jumped under him. He'd never had a kink for being held down before, but the feeling of the therapist's strong fingers on him like that twisted something low in his belly.

Steve snickered quietly, obviously understanding what his lover was responding to, and Danny felt an embarrassed blush travel up his chest and neck. This man was making him discover all sorts of things about himself; he felt so close to him already, but it was a very intimate thing to admit to liking anything out of the ordinary to a lover, however long you'd known them. He'd never asked for anything beyond relatively vanilla intercourse before with his sexual partners, never felt like he could explore anything else… but Steve was taking it in his stride, squeezing his neck again and pressing him down into the couch, drawing another explicit moan from him.

Had someone asked Danny a week ago if he could ever have sex with someone within half an hour of meeting them, spend the weekend in their arms, in their bed, and allow them to help him explore his personal wants and needs, accept him wholly, all within the space of three days… he'd have laughed in their face. But then along came Steve.

The former SEAL took his time and prepped him carefully and lovingly, adding a second and then a third finger, continuing his ministrations on his lover's back and beginning to add his teeth into the mix along with his lips and tongue. He'd picked massage oil that he didn't mind the taste of, and even in the low light he could see the flush of pink in the other man's skin under the glistening layer of oil.

If he was embarrassed at his body's reaction to being under another man's control, Steve wanted to make sure he was reassured. There was nothing worse than thinking your kinks weren't normal or accepted by the person you were in bed with, having to hold back and not be completely open. He wanted Danny to be open with him. He wanted Danny. And he hoped to god it was the same for him.

Once he felt fully primed, Steve trailed his tongue down the blonde's spine, in between his ass cheeks, and flicked his hot tongue over the loosened muscle. Danny hummed and raised his hips toward his lover.

"Oh, Jesus Steve…" he whispered hoarsely, and the therapist delved his tongue into his ass to tear a dirty moan from his chest. The hot, wet sensation was something he'd never had done to him before, and Steve's stubbled jaw pressed into his ass was wickedly exciting. He wriggled underneath him and ground his hips into the cushions, the friction adding to his pleasure as his lover rimmed him hungrily.

Then the other man was climbing off him. "Come here," Steve pulled his arm gently until he found the energy to raise himself from the couch. He was so relaxed, it didn't feel like there was any power left in his body as the taller man turned him and got him to kneel on the seat, stomach resting against the back of the couch and bracing his hands on the top. He nudged his legs apart and settled between them, nibbling his way across the detective's shoulders and making him whimper, his hands sliding around to the cop's stomach and caressing his abs while his own hard chest muscles and cock pressed into his back.

What Steve was best at, he found, more than words, was action. Rather than tell Danny that he could share himself, and be and have exactly what he wanted, he would show him. He took up the condom he'd brought in and opened the packet to roll it down his shaft.

He tangled the fingers from one hand into the hair at the back of the detective's head and pulled it to one side, roughly but not so as to cause pain, and grazed his teeth down the man's neck. He hoped he'd read the signals right, and it was confirmed when Danny gasped and leaned back into him, tilting his head even more to allow him access. He smiled against the shorter man's throat and growled into the skin, licking up to his ear and nibbling there.

His other hand travelled down and wrapped around the blonde's cock, and he pumped slowly and firmly, beginning to twist his wrist toward the end of the stroke so his palm smoothed over the sensitive head. He was already dripping with pre-cum, making soft noises with every move Steve made.

The hand at the back of his head moved south to guide the brunette's cock to its target, and he slowly pushed up into his lover.

The cop groaned and canted his hips, shoving backward to counter the movement, taking the ex-SEAL deep inside him.

Steve moaned long and hard himself at the feeling of the other man's tight heat surrounding him, the detective so desperate for him that he was taking him all the way and so fast. "Oh, fuck... Danny..."

He nuzzled into the other side of the blonde's neck, waiting for him to expose his throat so Steve could use his teeth on the sensitive skin. He is just so perfect...

Danny felt filled, deliciously stretched almost to the point of pain. Steve's cock was big, but he was getting used to it with these hot sessions they had, and the electricity which zipped up his spine as the taller man withdrew and gently thrust back in pulled a lascivious groan from him.

Both of the former SEAL's huge hands came to his where he gripped the couch and wrapped around his wrists, and then they were jerked back behind him and he was forced forward into the cushions while Steve held them together in one hand at the small of his back.

"Oh god..." he murmured, closing his eyes, "That's... oh god..." He couldn't find the words to express himself; just knowing that Steve had not only picked up on his arousal over being controlled, but was actively initiating the experience for him, was unbelievable. This gorgeous man, who was sliding in and out of him and setting his nerve endings on fire, wanted to give him that gift of release.

The therapist's free hand came back around to grasp his dripping cock again, and he began to drive harder and faster into Danny, his thrusts pushing the cop's dick through his slicked fist and doubling the devilish sensations, stimulating his prostate and bowing his spine.

Danny's moans grew louder and harsher, the multitude of sensations combining to bring him quickly to his culmination. He howled out his lover's name as he came hard and panting, his eyes screwed shut and his hands flexing where they were held behind him.

As he collapsed against the seat back, Steve used his wrists as the counterpoint for his own bucking hips, hammering into his contracting passage until the coil of tension at the base of his spine released and he spilled himself into the detective, gasping his name and throwing his head back.

He eventually let go of Danny's wrists, and his arms simply flopped to his sides, the blonde unable to even think clearly let alone control his body again yet.

The brunette let himself relax into his lover's heaving back, and they came back to themselves together, tacky skin sticking together and pulses slowing back to normal.

"Fuck..." Danny whispered so quietly, Steve wasn't even sure he'd heard him at first.

He gently pulled out of him, disposing of the condom and tugging the shorter man to his feet.

"Come on, you're staying here tonight," he smiled, "I have a spare charger for your phone, you can go home to get dressed in the morning."

The blonde just nodded his agreement and let his neighbour tow him through to the bedroom.

They slid under the sheets, and Steve's arms reached for and encircled Danny with such ease of movement it felt like they had been doing it for years; unmistakably natural and right. Spurred on by this, the detective spoke.

"Where are we going with this?" His voice was soft and uncertain, and he felt like he was risking everything despite the feeling that Steve was on exactly the same page. Being spooned by the taller man, he couldn't see his face, and he wasn't sure if that helped his courage or not. It was scary, but he had to know.

"I... I want this. This, I mean. Us..." He sighed, "I think that we're meant to be, Danny, because everything feels so right. And I don't care if this sounds cliché or cheesy. I've known you for under thirty-six hours and yet I've known you my whole life..." He had to stop talking because his voice was already husky from the sex and it felt like it was going to give out on him. He knew that if the other man could be honest and open with him, like he had on Sunday and just now during sex, then he would eventually be able to share with him as well. Everything.

The detective smiled broadly, because that was probably the most he'd heard out of the other man in one go in the last three days. And that had to mean something. But the brunette had said everything that had been on Danny's tongue, echoed his every thought and stolen his words, and he couldn't now think how to say what he wanted to say. 'Ditto' would just not be enough...

But then he realised he knew exactly what he needed to say, to confirm they felt the same way.

"I'll be at the barbecue on Saturday. And I'll bring Grace... she'll love you..."

Steve welcomed the sting of tears in his eyes, and pressed his face into the back of Danny's neck, kissing him there and squeezing him tight while the blonde's hands slid over his own.

And he slept through the night until his boyfriend's alarm went off the next morning, without a single nightmare.