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sealieRating: Slash; oodles of h/c
Word count: ~3, 000
Warning: NSFW
Advisory: potty mouth; disability; IT’S A WIP.
Disclaimer: writing for fun not for profit.
Comments: British English spelling.
Spoilers: none, it’s an AU.
Betas: Springwoof, thank you. You're awesome \o/
In fine Hobbit tradition, on my birthday, I present to you a chapter of The Co-operative.
The Co-operative.
By Sealie
“Hey, Steve.” Danny slid up beside Steve, who was watching the New Year’s Eve bonfire with studied intensity. He appeared to have been caught by the mesmerising dance of yellow, amber, and white hot flames amidst the coals and burning wood.
“Danny?”
“I’m like -- by definition -- a ‘new resident’.” Danny made speech marks with his fingers. “Can I call a meeting?”
Steve turned with alacrity. “Is everything okay?”
Danny patted Steve’s chest. “Sure. I think that you’ll like this. Can a new resident call a meeting?”
Steve froze for a moment, thinking. “Yes,” he said definitely.
“Okay.” Danny stepped away from the fire and into the area between the fire and the large pavilion tent, where, as the clock ticked to ten o’clock, the party congregated. He raised his arms. “Hey, everyone, I’d like to call a meeting.”
There was a discordant plink as Al’u stopped strumming his guitar.
“Mamo. Chin.” He nodded at the pair under the awning of the tent. “Steve. Where’s Toast gone?”
“Here. Dude?” Toast came slipping and sliding around the side of the tent.
All the faces were turned towards him, waiting. Danny thumped his chest, coughed, and cleared his lungs.
“I came to Seolh just over a month ago. And my Christmas present was to be promoted -- is it promoted? -- elevated to an actual resident. But I wouldn’t be here without Kono. I met her on a beach, when I was taking photographs of these little black banded sea snails. I now know, thanks to Steve, that they’re called pipipi. It hadn’t been a great day. My ex had told me that I didn’t have Grace that weekend because she and her new husband were taking my Monkey to the Big Island. Kono came across and spoke to me. The next thing I knew was that I was clinging to the back of a jet ski taking photos as Kono surfed. A week later, my apartment was firebombed. Kono found me again, sitting on the beach watching the surf, trying to figure out what to do next.”
Kono was looking at him. Her eyes were bright in the firelight.
“She went into the nearest café, and grabbed me a coffee. She also grabbed a napkin and borrowed a pen. She wrote ‘Seolh’ -- underlined three times -- and an address on that napkin. And she told me to come by. And here I am.”
Mamo looked like he was about to clap, but held himself still.
“About a week after I started, everyone figured out what I had known all along,” Danny said, and Steve snorted derisively, “that Kono is an artist, and she moved in. So I think that it’s about time that we all voted, and Kono -- if you want? -- becomes a resident.” Danny raised his hand.
Kono nodded.
“God, I love this place,” Toast exulted. He thrust his hand in the air. “You couldn’t bottle it.”
Steve already had his hand up, stretched as high as it could go.
Chin smiled at his cousin and raised his hand.
“Motion passed.” Mamo declared.
“Yes!” Kono bounced to her feet and flung herself at Danny.
“You okay?” he said into her ear, as she curled her arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” she whispered back.
“Hey, my turn.” Steve tapped Kono’s shoulder over Danny’s. “Come here, Kono.”
Laughing, Kono released Danny and launched herself into Steve’s arms. He carefully spun her around in a slow circle making her giggle.
“Let my cousin go,” Chin said, waiting his turn.
Steve released her. He leaned into Danny. “Good idea.”
“I have them, occasionally.” Danny settled back on his heels. Basking in satisfaction, he regarded the group -- just over a month ago he had been in a bad place, now he had a community.
“What if I said,” Steve said voice low, breaking Danny’s thoughts, “let’s get out of here?”
Danny craned his head, and regarded Steve. The firelight suited him, raising a healthy glow. He didn’t look tired, but it was very late for Steve. Normally by this time of night, he would be sacked out.
“Sure.”
~*~
Steve led Danny into his eyrie. He flicked on the lights and arrowed straight to the kitchenette, kicking off his flip flops into the corner of the room.
“You want a beer?” Steve asked.
“Sure.” Danny dropped on the sofa in front of Steve’s to-die-for television and gamer set up.
Steve grabbed a couple of bottles from the fridge, flipped off the caps by tapping them against the countertop, tossed the caps in the sink and then came to join Danny on the sofa.
“1787 Abbey Single Ale!” Danny marvelled as he accepted a bottle. “How did you get these?”
“Special delivery. A taste of home, I thought?”
Steve held his bottle out. Danny clinked their bottles together.
“Thank you,” Danny said appreciating the effort.
The beer was usually served at a slightly warmer temperature, but Steve had refrigerated the bottles. The liquid slipped down easily, nevertheless.
“Not bad.” Steve smacked his lips. “Not too hoppy.”
“When you come visit with me in New Jersey, I’ll introduce you to all the local microbreweries.”
Steve grinned happily.
“What’s that face for?” Danny asked. His Steve was exuding happiness.
“You want me to visit New Jersey with you?” Steve sat up straight, and set his bottle on the floor at his feet.
“Of course. I’ve told my mom and pop all about you, and they’d love --”
Ambush kissing was kind of hilarious. Danny toppled back across the cushions, with a gianormous lunk looming over him. Danny wrestled back, grabbing Steve’s collar and holding him in place as they kissed. Showing ridiculous presence of mind, Danny felt Steve relieve him of his bottle of beer. Multi-tasking, Steve didn’t stop kissing for an instant as he moved the bottle out of reach. Danny slid his now cold fingers under Steve’s sweatshirt -- he shivered delightfully. Steve nibbled at the edge of Danny’s mouth, and then moved on following the line of his jaw. Daringly, Danny skimmed the edge of a scar, curving his hand around Steve’s ribs.
“God, Danny,” Steve breathed heavily against his neck.
Danny curled around him, holding Steve close, aiming for that little patch of skin just below his ear that made Steve shiver. He latched on, humming a kiss against the zone.
Steve made a little ‘oh’ sound, shuddered, and flopped against him.
Holy shit, Batman, hair-trigger, Danny marvelled. Steve had just fucking come from kissing. Danny scritched his fingers through the hair at the back of Steve’s head, soothingly, and kissed the ear that was the only part that he could reach.
“You okay, Babe?” Danny asked softly. How long has that been building?
Steve hummed contentedly. He shifted his leg deliberately against Danny’s crotch, rubbing. Danny breathed hard, as his cock showed considerable interest. It seemed to be the only movement that Steve was capable of, as his weight pinned Danny down. Danny rubbed back against the firm thigh and his breathing speeded up.
Steve lifted his head, and smiled crookedly at Danny. “Can I?”
Danny could only nod.
Steve shifted them sideways on the sofa, relieving some of the pressure -- no, weight -- from Danny. The pressure was mounting. Steve slid his hand down the front of Danny’s shorts. Danny lifted his hips and managed to push his shorts and underpants down. Steve’s blunt nails scratched through coarse hairs, unerringly heading downwards.
“Jesus, fuck,” Danny swore, as Steve curled his hand around his cock. It had been too long since someone had touched him. He arched into Steve’s fist. Thank God his shorts were loose. A little too carefully, but amazingly, nevertheless, Steve pumped him, his massive hand providing a channel for Danny’s cock. Danny rocked his hips. Steve shifted again, losing the movement. Danny mewled in protest. Steve kissed the corner of Danny’s eyelid, and lifted his weight off Danny except for his hand.
“Steve,” Danny protested though gritted teeth.
“I want to watch you.” Steve’s thumb smoothed over the blunt tip of Danny’s cock.
Danny gasped and came undone.
~*~
What might have been a thousand heartbeats later, Danny blinked up at the idly turning ceiling fan above him. Steve’s head was heavy on his shoulder, his longer form curled along Danny’s side.
“You awake, Steve?” Danny asked.
Steve only hummed, but he lifted his head, and followed the motion by sitting up on the wide sofa.
“Come on.” Steve’s hand curled around Danny’s hand -- it was sticky -- and tugged. “We need a shower.”
“Together?” Danny wasn’t adverse. He wanted to continue lolling, but a shower sounded nice. He drew his shorts up, leaving them low on his hips. Steve pulled him along, weaving just a tad. Danny moved in closer, following him up the spiral staircase.
Steve’s bathroom was obscene, happily big enough for six adults, dressed in sparklingly white tiles and navy blue accents. The massive, enclosed triangular shower unit took up the entire corner of the large room, and a third of the area. Inside there were more fixtures than the kitchen.
“What the Hell is that?” On seeing it, Danny actually woke up a fraction.
“An indulgence. The Navy would not approve.”
“It looks like something out of Star Trek.”
Steve huffed a laugh. “I think that you’ll enjoy the massage heads and steam.”
Easing his fingers free from Danny’s, Steve stripped off his hooded fleece and skimmed out of his sweatpants. He dumped his clothes in the laundry hamper by the door. Naked, hands on his hips, he waited for Danny to get with the programme. Danny indulged himself in watching. Shameless -- no, confident -- Steve let him look his fill, from his mussed up hair; down the defined lines of his torso; the nestled, quiescent cock; long legs with firm, muscular thighs and calves, all the way to neatly turned out feet.
Making it a little dance, Danny drew off his own sweatshirt and t-shirt, and shimmied out of his sticky shorts. He tossed them after Steve’s into the laundry hamper. The floor tiles were cold beneath his bare feet as he toed off his sneakers.
“Man, you’re hairy aren’t you,” Steve observed. He came over, setting his hands on Danny’s chest and raking his fingers through the curls. “Shower.”
Danny followed. He let Steve take the lead, because it looked like you needed an instruction manual to run Steve’s shower.
“Ears,” Danny prompted, just as Steve moved onto the step leading to the very high lip into the unit.
“Huh!” Steve laughed. He kissed Danny’s mouth. “I forgot.”
He kissed Danny again, and moved aside to the vanity unit on the far wall, pinching the aids out of each ear, and setting them in a little bowl that was obviously set aside for the purpose beside the sink.
“Tramp stamp!” Danny blurted, seeing the curving Celtic knot work above his dimpled, bare ass.
Steve spun. “What?”
“Tramp stamp.” Danny bit his lip, trying in vain, not to smile.
Steve flushed. “Body art,” he corrected.
“If you say so, dear,” Danny said carefully, the widest of grins blossoming over his face.
Steve lunged and Danny hopped over the lip into the shower, laughing. The thing was deep enough to bathe in. Steve crowded in after him, pushing him up against the mirrored wall between the dual showerheads and kissing him firmly. Danny laughed against his mouth. Steve was so easy to tease. The mirror was cold against his back. Steve caught Danny’s wrists and lifted them above his head, pinning them to the wall.
My god, we’re going to have so much fun in this shower, Danny thought dazedly, as he arched his neck, letting Steve latch on. Showing that amazing ability to multi-task, Steve kicked the blue-tinted glass door shut.
~*~
They played in the shower. Kissing, with a smidge of wrestling over who got the upper hand, was the name of the game. Danny might have been smaller, but his centre of gravity was lower than lanky Steve’s and he knew that he could topple the redwood. Although the fact that they were surrounded by glass kind of prevented out-and-out warfare.
Regardless of hands and kissing and slippery skin, they weren’t teenagers and Steve flagged in all senses of the word. Danny wasn’t getting it up after their activities on the sofa, either -- he had come like the proverbial freight train.
“Tired,” Steve said ruefully bracing his hand against the smooth wall.
“Me too,” Danny said pushing his hair out of his eyes, “and I’m turning into a prune.”
Kissing segued into using shampoo and shower gel in the pursuit of cleanliness. The crisp scent was so Steve but the tingly mint shower gel seemed designed to strip natural oils from Danny’s hair and skin. Steve rinsed off the final suds, lifting one foot and the other, spraying his long toes clean, as Danny still fought with the second showerhead to sluice off the lather coating his skin. The man was a speed demon.
“You’re really fucking hairy.”
“Manly.” Danny mocked a strongman’s pose. He was pretty sure that Steve manscaped, not to a massive degree but there was definitely some tidying up going on.
“What?” Steve looked down the length of his torso.
Hundreds of years in the Navy appeared to have made him kind of indifferent to his body. Danny had seen his scars. The damage on his left side was an extensive spider web of red scars, but Steve didn’t seem remotely sensitive about it. Danny knew that he could have been, some people understandably would be, but Steve didn’t appear to be body shy.
Danny shrugged, finished rinsing off, and followed Steve out of the shower, straight into a face-full of towel, as Steve cannon balled one at his head.
“Geez.” Danny pulled it down, and began to dry off.
Danny had barely got his hair dry, as a dry Steve stood beside him carefully moisturising his ribs and vulnerable flesh. He had to do this several times a day, if Danny remembered correctly.
“Moisturise me. Moisturise me,” Steve said jokingly.
“What?”
“You don’t watch Doctor Who? Cassandra?”
“No,” Danny said slowly.
“Bad joke,” Steve said and moved to the sink to wash his hands clean of the oily cream.
Danny glanced at the mirror over the sink, and saw the travesty of his hair. The drying properties of the citrus-mint gel had turned him into a troll doll.
“Geez.”
Steve laughed softly at the mess of Danny’s hair before leaning in to steal a kiss. If showering together became a habit, Danny decided, he was going to have to move his own shampoo and conditioner into Steve’s Star Trek shower.
“Bed.” Steve said cracking a yawn.
Danny hesitated a moment, wondering about returning to his studio. His clothes were in the laundry hamper and he was not putting them back on. Running naked to his studio did not really appeal. Kono was sure to be heading to her own rooms for something. Danny would have bet money on encountering Kono under such circumstances, it was practically fated.
“Come on, Danny.” Steve had curled his fingertips around Danny’s and began to draw him out of the bathroom. Danny followed, padding in a barefoot naked way, all the way through Steve’s ostentatious apartment, up the winding staircase to his lighthouse bedroom.
Steve arrowed to his pillows like a guided missile latched onto a target. In all honesty, Danny thought, looking down at him fondly as he burrowed in, Steve slept like a child. Part of Danny was mightily jealous. Any time day or night, Steve moved, he ran around, he achieved, ordered people around. And then he crashed like the dead, recharged, and then did it all over again. Steve was already out for the count, curled on his good side in a mound of pillows, before Danny had even started to consider which side of the bed to sleep in.
Danny moved to the far side, and slid in under the thin quilt and sheet, flopping back against Steve’s stupidly numerous pillows. The enormous bed was as comfortable as he had expected.
“Wow.” That was the only thing that he could think to say. “Wow.”
He shifted sideways, until his hip felt the warmth of Steve’s back. Danny slumped against the bed’s headboard, pleasantly wrung out, edging into somnolence. Sagging a little lower, Danny tossed a couple of pillows onto the floor, and kicked his feet out, trying to get comfortable.
Steve muttered. Danny froze. Holding his breath, Danny leaned over slightly. That was a face that was indeed asleep -- relaxed and line free.
A flash of light on the horizon out to sea caught Danny’s attention as it starbursted into a riot of colours. The direct line of sight from Steve’s lighthouse stretched over the long roof, over the wood of the peninsula, and out to sea. The landscape was dressed in dark blues and blacks highlighted by the low, full moon. Another flash, closer to home, rocketed into the sky followed by another then another. Blues and greens vied with ambers and red flashes. The family were setting off the fireworks on the beach. The cruise liner anchored offshore set off its own cascade into the night sky. Carefully, Danny drew up the light quilt that covered them, creating a tent to shield Steve from the show.
“Happy New Year, Steve,” he whispered.
~*~
Tbc
Part sixty seven
Word count: ~3, 000
Warning: NSFW
Advisory: potty mouth; disability; IT’S A WIP.
Disclaimer: writing for fun not for profit.
Comments: British English spelling.
Spoilers: none, it’s an AU.
Betas: Springwoof, thank you. You're awesome \o/
In fine Hobbit tradition, on my birthday, I present to you a chapter of The Co-operative.
The Co-operative.
By Sealie
“Hey, Steve.” Danny slid up beside Steve, who was watching the New Year’s Eve bonfire with studied intensity. He appeared to have been caught by the mesmerising dance of yellow, amber, and white hot flames amidst the coals and burning wood.
“Danny?”
“I’m like -- by definition -- a ‘new resident’.” Danny made speech marks with his fingers. “Can I call a meeting?”
Steve turned with alacrity. “Is everything okay?”
Danny patted Steve’s chest. “Sure. I think that you’ll like this. Can a new resident call a meeting?”
Steve froze for a moment, thinking. “Yes,” he said definitely.
“Okay.” Danny stepped away from the fire and into the area between the fire and the large pavilion tent, where, as the clock ticked to ten o’clock, the party congregated. He raised his arms. “Hey, everyone, I’d like to call a meeting.”
There was a discordant plink as Al’u stopped strumming his guitar.
“Mamo. Chin.” He nodded at the pair under the awning of the tent. “Steve. Where’s Toast gone?”
“Here. Dude?” Toast came slipping and sliding around the side of the tent.
All the faces were turned towards him, waiting. Danny thumped his chest, coughed, and cleared his lungs.
“I came to Seolh just over a month ago. And my Christmas present was to be promoted -- is it promoted? -- elevated to an actual resident. But I wouldn’t be here without Kono. I met her on a beach, when I was taking photographs of these little black banded sea snails. I now know, thanks to Steve, that they’re called pipipi. It hadn’t been a great day. My ex had told me that I didn’t have Grace that weekend because she and her new husband were taking my Monkey to the Big Island. Kono came across and spoke to me. The next thing I knew was that I was clinging to the back of a jet ski taking photos as Kono surfed. A week later, my apartment was firebombed. Kono found me again, sitting on the beach watching the surf, trying to figure out what to do next.”
Kono was looking at him. Her eyes were bright in the firelight.
“She went into the nearest café, and grabbed me a coffee. She also grabbed a napkin and borrowed a pen. She wrote ‘Seolh’ -- underlined three times -- and an address on that napkin. And she told me to come by. And here I am.”
Mamo looked like he was about to clap, but held himself still.
“About a week after I started, everyone figured out what I had known all along,” Danny said, and Steve snorted derisively, “that Kono is an artist, and she moved in. So I think that it’s about time that we all voted, and Kono -- if you want? -- becomes a resident.” Danny raised his hand.
Kono nodded.
“God, I love this place,” Toast exulted. He thrust his hand in the air. “You couldn’t bottle it.”
Steve already had his hand up, stretched as high as it could go.
Chin smiled at his cousin and raised his hand.
“Motion passed.” Mamo declared.
“Yes!” Kono bounced to her feet and flung herself at Danny.
“You okay?” he said into her ear, as she curled her arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” she whispered back.
“Hey, my turn.” Steve tapped Kono’s shoulder over Danny’s. “Come here, Kono.”
Laughing, Kono released Danny and launched herself into Steve’s arms. He carefully spun her around in a slow circle making her giggle.
“Let my cousin go,” Chin said, waiting his turn.
Steve released her. He leaned into Danny. “Good idea.”
“I have them, occasionally.” Danny settled back on his heels. Basking in satisfaction, he regarded the group -- just over a month ago he had been in a bad place, now he had a community.
“What if I said,” Steve said voice low, breaking Danny’s thoughts, “let’s get out of here?”
Danny craned his head, and regarded Steve. The firelight suited him, raising a healthy glow. He didn’t look tired, but it was very late for Steve. Normally by this time of night, he would be sacked out.
“Sure.”
~*~
Steve led Danny into his eyrie. He flicked on the lights and arrowed straight to the kitchenette, kicking off his flip flops into the corner of the room.
“You want a beer?” Steve asked.
“Sure.” Danny dropped on the sofa in front of Steve’s to-die-for television and gamer set up.
Steve grabbed a couple of bottles from the fridge, flipped off the caps by tapping them against the countertop, tossed the caps in the sink and then came to join Danny on the sofa.
“1787 Abbey Single Ale!” Danny marvelled as he accepted a bottle. “How did you get these?”
“Special delivery. A taste of home, I thought?”
Steve held his bottle out. Danny clinked their bottles together.
“Thank you,” Danny said appreciating the effort.
The beer was usually served at a slightly warmer temperature, but Steve had refrigerated the bottles. The liquid slipped down easily, nevertheless.
“Not bad.” Steve smacked his lips. “Not too hoppy.”
“When you come visit with me in New Jersey, I’ll introduce you to all the local microbreweries.”
Steve grinned happily.
“What’s that face for?” Danny asked. His Steve was exuding happiness.
“You want me to visit New Jersey with you?” Steve sat up straight, and set his bottle on the floor at his feet.
“Of course. I’ve told my mom and pop all about you, and they’d love --”
Ambush kissing was kind of hilarious. Danny toppled back across the cushions, with a gianormous lunk looming over him. Danny wrestled back, grabbing Steve’s collar and holding him in place as they kissed. Showing ridiculous presence of mind, Danny felt Steve relieve him of his bottle of beer. Multi-tasking, Steve didn’t stop kissing for an instant as he moved the bottle out of reach. Danny slid his now cold fingers under Steve’s sweatshirt -- he shivered delightfully. Steve nibbled at the edge of Danny’s mouth, and then moved on following the line of his jaw. Daringly, Danny skimmed the edge of a scar, curving his hand around Steve’s ribs.
“God, Danny,” Steve breathed heavily against his neck.
Danny curled around him, holding Steve close, aiming for that little patch of skin just below his ear that made Steve shiver. He latched on, humming a kiss against the zone.
Steve made a little ‘oh’ sound, shuddered, and flopped against him.
Holy shit, Batman, hair-trigger, Danny marvelled. Steve had just fucking come from kissing. Danny scritched his fingers through the hair at the back of Steve’s head, soothingly, and kissed the ear that was the only part that he could reach.
“You okay, Babe?” Danny asked softly. How long has that been building?
Steve hummed contentedly. He shifted his leg deliberately against Danny’s crotch, rubbing. Danny breathed hard, as his cock showed considerable interest. It seemed to be the only movement that Steve was capable of, as his weight pinned Danny down. Danny rubbed back against the firm thigh and his breathing speeded up.
Steve lifted his head, and smiled crookedly at Danny. “Can I?”
Danny could only nod.
Steve shifted them sideways on the sofa, relieving some of the pressure -- no, weight -- from Danny. The pressure was mounting. Steve slid his hand down the front of Danny’s shorts. Danny lifted his hips and managed to push his shorts and underpants down. Steve’s blunt nails scratched through coarse hairs, unerringly heading downwards.
“Jesus, fuck,” Danny swore, as Steve curled his hand around his cock. It had been too long since someone had touched him. He arched into Steve’s fist. Thank God his shorts were loose. A little too carefully, but amazingly, nevertheless, Steve pumped him, his massive hand providing a channel for Danny’s cock. Danny rocked his hips. Steve shifted again, losing the movement. Danny mewled in protest. Steve kissed the corner of Danny’s eyelid, and lifted his weight off Danny except for his hand.
“Steve,” Danny protested though gritted teeth.
“I want to watch you.” Steve’s thumb smoothed over the blunt tip of Danny’s cock.
Danny gasped and came undone.
~*~
What might have been a thousand heartbeats later, Danny blinked up at the idly turning ceiling fan above him. Steve’s head was heavy on his shoulder, his longer form curled along Danny’s side.
“You awake, Steve?” Danny asked.
Steve only hummed, but he lifted his head, and followed the motion by sitting up on the wide sofa.
“Come on.” Steve’s hand curled around Danny’s hand -- it was sticky -- and tugged. “We need a shower.”
“Together?” Danny wasn’t adverse. He wanted to continue lolling, but a shower sounded nice. He drew his shorts up, leaving them low on his hips. Steve pulled him along, weaving just a tad. Danny moved in closer, following him up the spiral staircase.
Steve’s bathroom was obscene, happily big enough for six adults, dressed in sparklingly white tiles and navy blue accents. The massive, enclosed triangular shower unit took up the entire corner of the large room, and a third of the area. Inside there were more fixtures than the kitchen.
“What the Hell is that?” On seeing it, Danny actually woke up a fraction.
“An indulgence. The Navy would not approve.”
“It looks like something out of Star Trek.”
Steve huffed a laugh. “I think that you’ll enjoy the massage heads and steam.”
Easing his fingers free from Danny’s, Steve stripped off his hooded fleece and skimmed out of his sweatpants. He dumped his clothes in the laundry hamper by the door. Naked, hands on his hips, he waited for Danny to get with the programme. Danny indulged himself in watching. Shameless -- no, confident -- Steve let him look his fill, from his mussed up hair; down the defined lines of his torso; the nestled, quiescent cock; long legs with firm, muscular thighs and calves, all the way to neatly turned out feet.
Making it a little dance, Danny drew off his own sweatshirt and t-shirt, and shimmied out of his sticky shorts. He tossed them after Steve’s into the laundry hamper. The floor tiles were cold beneath his bare feet as he toed off his sneakers.
“Man, you’re hairy aren’t you,” Steve observed. He came over, setting his hands on Danny’s chest and raking his fingers through the curls. “Shower.”
Danny followed. He let Steve take the lead, because it looked like you needed an instruction manual to run Steve’s shower.
“Ears,” Danny prompted, just as Steve moved onto the step leading to the very high lip into the unit.
“Huh!” Steve laughed. He kissed Danny’s mouth. “I forgot.”
He kissed Danny again, and moved aside to the vanity unit on the far wall, pinching the aids out of each ear, and setting them in a little bowl that was obviously set aside for the purpose beside the sink.
“Tramp stamp!” Danny blurted, seeing the curving Celtic knot work above his dimpled, bare ass.
Steve spun. “What?”
“Tramp stamp.” Danny bit his lip, trying in vain, not to smile.
Steve flushed. “Body art,” he corrected.
“If you say so, dear,” Danny said carefully, the widest of grins blossoming over his face.
Steve lunged and Danny hopped over the lip into the shower, laughing. The thing was deep enough to bathe in. Steve crowded in after him, pushing him up against the mirrored wall between the dual showerheads and kissing him firmly. Danny laughed against his mouth. Steve was so easy to tease. The mirror was cold against his back. Steve caught Danny’s wrists and lifted them above his head, pinning them to the wall.
My god, we’re going to have so much fun in this shower, Danny thought dazedly, as he arched his neck, letting Steve latch on. Showing that amazing ability to multi-task, Steve kicked the blue-tinted glass door shut.
~*~
They played in the shower. Kissing, with a smidge of wrestling over who got the upper hand, was the name of the game. Danny might have been smaller, but his centre of gravity was lower than lanky Steve’s and he knew that he could topple the redwood. Although the fact that they were surrounded by glass kind of prevented out-and-out warfare.
Regardless of hands and kissing and slippery skin, they weren’t teenagers and Steve flagged in all senses of the word. Danny wasn’t getting it up after their activities on the sofa, either -- he had come like the proverbial freight train.
“Tired,” Steve said ruefully bracing his hand against the smooth wall.
“Me too,” Danny said pushing his hair out of his eyes, “and I’m turning into a prune.”
Kissing segued into using shampoo and shower gel in the pursuit of cleanliness. The crisp scent was so Steve but the tingly mint shower gel seemed designed to strip natural oils from Danny’s hair and skin. Steve rinsed off the final suds, lifting one foot and the other, spraying his long toes clean, as Danny still fought with the second showerhead to sluice off the lather coating his skin. The man was a speed demon.
“You’re really fucking hairy.”
“Manly.” Danny mocked a strongman’s pose. He was pretty sure that Steve manscaped, not to a massive degree but there was definitely some tidying up going on.
“What?” Steve looked down the length of his torso.
Hundreds of years in the Navy appeared to have made him kind of indifferent to his body. Danny had seen his scars. The damage on his left side was an extensive spider web of red scars, but Steve didn’t seem remotely sensitive about it. Danny knew that he could have been, some people understandably would be, but Steve didn’t appear to be body shy.
Danny shrugged, finished rinsing off, and followed Steve out of the shower, straight into a face-full of towel, as Steve cannon balled one at his head.
“Geez.” Danny pulled it down, and began to dry off.
Danny had barely got his hair dry, as a dry Steve stood beside him carefully moisturising his ribs and vulnerable flesh. He had to do this several times a day, if Danny remembered correctly.
“Moisturise me. Moisturise me,” Steve said jokingly.
“What?”
“You don’t watch Doctor Who? Cassandra?”
“No,” Danny said slowly.
“Bad joke,” Steve said and moved to the sink to wash his hands clean of the oily cream.
Danny glanced at the mirror over the sink, and saw the travesty of his hair. The drying properties of the citrus-mint gel had turned him into a troll doll.
“Geez.”
Steve laughed softly at the mess of Danny’s hair before leaning in to steal a kiss. If showering together became a habit, Danny decided, he was going to have to move his own shampoo and conditioner into Steve’s Star Trek shower.
“Bed.” Steve said cracking a yawn.
Danny hesitated a moment, wondering about returning to his studio. His clothes were in the laundry hamper and he was not putting them back on. Running naked to his studio did not really appeal. Kono was sure to be heading to her own rooms for something. Danny would have bet money on encountering Kono under such circumstances, it was practically fated.
“Come on, Danny.” Steve had curled his fingertips around Danny’s and began to draw him out of the bathroom. Danny followed, padding in a barefoot naked way, all the way through Steve’s ostentatious apartment, up the winding staircase to his lighthouse bedroom.
Steve arrowed to his pillows like a guided missile latched onto a target. In all honesty, Danny thought, looking down at him fondly as he burrowed in, Steve slept like a child. Part of Danny was mightily jealous. Any time day or night, Steve moved, he ran around, he achieved, ordered people around. And then he crashed like the dead, recharged, and then did it all over again. Steve was already out for the count, curled on his good side in a mound of pillows, before Danny had even started to consider which side of the bed to sleep in.
Danny moved to the far side, and slid in under the thin quilt and sheet, flopping back against Steve’s stupidly numerous pillows. The enormous bed was as comfortable as he had expected.
“Wow.” That was the only thing that he could think to say. “Wow.”
He shifted sideways, until his hip felt the warmth of Steve’s back. Danny slumped against the bed’s headboard, pleasantly wrung out, edging into somnolence. Sagging a little lower, Danny tossed a couple of pillows onto the floor, and kicked his feet out, trying to get comfortable.
Steve muttered. Danny froze. Holding his breath, Danny leaned over slightly. That was a face that was indeed asleep -- relaxed and line free.
A flash of light on the horizon out to sea caught Danny’s attention as it starbursted into a riot of colours. The direct line of sight from Steve’s lighthouse stretched over the long roof, over the wood of the peninsula, and out to sea. The landscape was dressed in dark blues and blacks highlighted by the low, full moon. Another flash, closer to home, rocketed into the sky followed by another then another. Blues and greens vied with ambers and red flashes. The family were setting off the fireworks on the beach. The cruise liner anchored offshore set off its own cascade into the night sky. Carefully, Danny drew up the light quilt that covered them, creating a tent to shield Steve from the show.
“Happy New Year, Steve,” he whispered.
~*~
Tbc
Part sixty seven
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Date: 2013-06-06 01:05 pm (UTC)Happy birthday, Sweetie! And a lovely Hobbit tradition it is, too. I adore that you're celebrating with fireworks (of all kinds)!
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Date: 2013-06-16 07:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-06 10:44 pm (UTC)But, that happy, joyish make-out session on the sofa and the resulting fireworks. It was so sweet and spontaneous, then the Star Trek shower and finally Steve's batteries dying and his adorable face plant into the bed. Lovely chapter,babe.
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Date: 2013-06-16 08:01 am (UTC)Out of all of it, it was the Exocet guided missile face plant on the pillow that I like. Oh, and Danny making a little tent to shield him from the fireworks.
Glad you're still with me, and enjoying the fic.
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Date: 2013-06-06 11:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-16 08:11 am (UTC)Zonked Steve is very cute.
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Date: 2013-06-08 03:52 pm (UTC)The image of Steve's smile when Danny mentioned taking him back to Jersey was so adorable. It was like he was given something really great that he wasn't expecting.
every time you describe more of Seolh, especially Steve's room, I think of the TARDIS! I get that it's huge, but man, the image in my head is sort of mind-boggling and probably very different than what you have in mind. I would kill to have a huge bathroom, but wouldn't want to have to clean it.
I so snorted when Danny saw Steve's back tattoo. tramp stamp sounds so negative. body art is so much better lol
yay! Doctor Who reference!
This chapter was so much fun to read. and that ending was just so sweet (almost forgot it was New Year's Eve).
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Date: 2013-06-16 08:14 am (UTC)yay for Dr. Who.
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Date: 2013-06-09 06:16 pm (UTC)Ok, THAT just made my day. Love a good Doctor Who reference. Also, such a sweet / sexy chapter, loved it!
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Date: 2013-06-16 08:17 am (UTC)it's kind of cannon that Steve is a geek. Get's Star Trek references, knows comics, recognises Keanu... I couldn't resist the crack. Danny, however, I think is firmly rooted in the mundane.
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Date: 2013-06-19 03:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-20 08:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-23 04:36 pm (UTC)The sofa, shower and bed scenes are so hot, adorable and happy making - all at the same time. <3
Thank you!
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Date: 2013-07-12 02:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-24 07:23 pm (UTC)And Danny and Steve together, that was a great moment. Thanks for this vicariously lived moment of perfection , sweetness (hotness!) and joy ; )!
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Date: 2013-07-12 02:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-10-08 11:29 am (UTC)That was what I was wanting when the original story ended actually. So pleased the boys got that lovely little happy interlude. I'm guessing things aren't going to stay peaceful and sweet for much longer.