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Monday.
On their Monday commute the Camaro is quiet for once. Danny is fine with that – it’s kind of peaceful, and he’s got stuff on his mind – but Steve keeps glancing over at him, transparently curious, so eventually Danny sighs and lays it on him. “You ever feel you’re getting old?”
Steve pulls an unconvincingly offended face. “No.”
Danny knows enough to take that as a yes. He sighs and looks out his side window at the morning traffic trickling by.
“Where’s this coming from?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Of course I do,” Steve says, and this time, the offense comes across as a lot more genuine. “You can talk to me, buddy. Anything.”
Danny sighs again, just for good measure, but Steve asked for it. “It’s Melissa. We had a lot of sex on Saturday evening, right, and then we spent all of yesterday in bed, and this morning she woke me up early, ready to go again.”
Danny watches Steve go through some wide-eyed emotion as he realizes that this is going a different direction than anything he probably expected. “And what, you had trouble performing? The lingerie not working for you anymore?”
“I performed just fine, thank you, and you can stop dissing my kinks any time.”
“Sorry,” Steve says, but he’s grinning widely. He makes a half-assed attempt to tamp it down, and eventually he manages, more or less. “So what’s the problem, really?”
“I think the sex might be the only good part of our relationship. That’s why we end up doing it so much.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. That’s what my dick is starting to think.”
“Have you talked to her about this?”
“Did you forget whose car you’re driving?” Danny talks and talks and talks, but to Steve, never to the women he’s dating. It’s an issue he’s wondered at in the past, but the answer’s probably simple. Steve is easy to talk to.
“So do it,” Steve says, easily. “You deserve a partner who won’t make your dick fall off. You need that thing.”
“I do.” No way to argue with that.
They’re both quiet for a moment, letting the truly mind-boggling possibility of too much sex killing a relationship really sink in.
“Hey, look on the bright side,” Steve says, with that stubborn ‘there are totally positives to this!’ quality to his voice. “If it’s really all about the sex, at least you know you can keep a girl satisfied on that front. That’s something, buddy.”
“Yeah. My ego doesn’t hate that one.”
Steve sends a grin his way like he’s going to pat Danny’s shoulder, but then he needs to ease up on the gas so they don’t crash into the car in front of them, and his expression drops. A beat later, he asks, “Do you think the Governor would let us carpool in a helicopter?”
-
Tuesday.
The next morning there’s still no helicopter, but their commute has changed in that Danny doesn’t wait for Steve to ask. No point in making Steve drag it out of him when he really wants to throw it at someone anyway. “I ignored a call from Melissa this morning. Pretended I was in the shower.”
“Danny,” Steve says, in one of his more disappointed tones, artfully managed even while swerving around the truck in front of them. Danny has a hunch Steve learned that tone from him, but that’s only fun when Steve is using it on someone else.
“I know,” Danny assures him. Running away is just so much easier than confronting the fact he might have to hurt someone he likes. Loves. Whichever.
God, okay, he’s definitely going to have to break up with her.
“I just hate this so much.”
Steve makes a sympathetic noise, and then somehow both changes the subject and stays right on topic at the same time. “So how much did Melissa really tell you about me and Lynn?”
“Why?”
“Lynn and I broke up because she was, uh-” Steve is suddenly very concentrated on his driving in a way that would be reassuring if it weren’t so out of character. “-a bit too adventurous for me.”
Danny appreciates what Steve’s trying to do – let him know he’s not the first guy to ever go through something like this – but it’s still a little funny. Danny can’t just let that pass by. “What, the great Steve McGarrett, admitting there’s a mountain he couldn’t climb?”
“More like she was climbing me every time we did it, and I kept having to hold her up against walls and the fridge and a tree, once.”
Danny’s mood has flipped. This is more than a little funny. “That’s what you get for dating an outdoorsy type.”
“I guess.” Steve shakes his head. “And I don’t have a problem with that, you know, it’s just-”
“Nice to have boring sex on a comfortable, flat surface once in a while?”
“Exactly.”
Danny sighs. “Yeah. I feel you, my friend.”
Steve nods solemnly while completely ignoring a red light. Never let it be said that men can’t multitask.
-
Wednesday.
By Wednesday, Steve’s little unprompted confession from the previous day has had enough time to sink into Danny’s brain that he’s found some dots to connect.
“So when you were mysteriously limping a while back, that was before you broke up with Lynn, which means there’s gotta be a story there.” He glances over at Steve, and Steve’s expression tells him he’s right, but Steve is going to need a little prodding to give him more detail than that. “Was that really your knee?”
“No,” Steve says darkly. “Higher.”
This is what Danny was after, but it’s also worrying, now that he’s got it. “What, you need a hip replacement? Are we at that point in our lives already?” Sure, he’s been feeling old, but not that old.
“Lower.”
“What?” What’s between knee and hips? Danny’s brain spins out of control with horror scenarios involving broken penises, but he’s not ready to go there. “Thigh?”
Steve shakes his head. He seems to give up on letting Danny guess, because he says, “My ass.”
“Oh,” Danny says, because that story is both a lot shorter and a lot more impactful than he expected. “Wait, so she-”
“She had this hot pink strap-on.”
Danny doesn’t think that’s what he was going to ask. He was thinking along the lines of spanking, but okay, hello. Apparently Steve is ten steps ahead of him. “Was it any good?”
“At the time, yeah. Great.”
“So why the wincing now?”
“In hindsight it was just,” Steve says, sounding like it’s unpleasant to think about. “Not enough lube, you know?”
Danny doesn’t, not really, not like that, but he finds himself humming in thoughtful agreement anyway.
-
Thursday.
“So I tried it,” Danny blurts, three minutes into their drive to the office on Thursday.
“Tried what?” Steve asks. Danny attempts to give him a significant look, but Steve just looks back questioningly.
“You know, the-” He waves a hand around, but it’s not going to be helpful unless he points at things he can’t point at while he’s sitting. “The backdoor thing.”
Steve frowns. “Is there something wrong with your lock? Need me to have a look at it?”
“Oh my God,” Danny says, with feeling. Steve’s not catching what he’s pitching at all and it would be comical if it didn’t mean Danny would have to actually express what he’s talking about. “No, I don’t. Sticking my fingers up my own ass worked really well for me without you watching me.”
“Oh my God,” Steve echoes. “I didn’t mean- So how was it?”
“Weird. The angle is complicated and it took me ages to find, you know-”
“Your prostate,” Steve helpfully supplies.
“Yeah. But then it was, you know, alright.”
Steve doesn’t miss a beat. “Okay, so if I translate that from Williams speak to normal happy human, it means you came your brains out.”
“That’s for me to know and for you to speculate on, my friend.” Or not. Does he really want Steve to spend time thinking about this?
Steve huffs. “What’s there to speculate? You just told me.” Matter resolved, Danny supposes, so he should probably put it out of his mind now. Worryingly, that’s when Steve asks, “Did you think of me?”
“Huh?”
“My troubles, I mean. You use enough lube?”
“Yeah, obviously. Barely feel a thing today.” That’s not fully true, because he feels something, but it’s largely pleasant. A reminder, but a nice one.
“Good. Very smart.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Danny says, because what else are you supposed to say when your best friend compliments you on masturbating responsibly?
-
Friday.
Unless they’re in the middle of a case, usually the last day of the workweek brings relief in the form of finally getting to clock out for more than one night at a time. This particular week, well- “We officially broke up,” Danny announces, Friday morning. Just to keep Steve fully up to date on the most recent developments in his sex life, which is a thing that’s happening now.
Or rather, not happening, anymore. That’s the whole deal.
“That sucks,” Steve says, like the good buddy he is. “Yesterday?”
“Yeah. I’d already told her we needed to talk, so she was pretty much expecting it when I went over to her place.” She was sweet about it, too, in spite of Danny’s asshole behavior for the past few days. Just another reason this is the right thing for them – she should be using that sweetness on someone who can pay it back to her with more than just really great cunnilingus.
“How are you feeling?”
“Alright.” Almost shamefully okay, even. “Weirdly horny, like my body is still getting ready for a weekend straight of sex.”
“Well, you learned some new tricks this week. You’re equipped to take care of it.” Steve makes them take a smooth turn around a sharp corner, and the way the wheel slides through his big hands is unexpectedly fascinating. When he sends over a pointed look, Danny has to tear his eyes away. “Call me if you need some more pointers,” Steve says, who thinks he’s funny sometimes.
Danny looks out his passenger window so he doesn’t zone out looking at completely uninteresting parts of Steve again. He’s seen it all a thousand times, anyway. “Yeah, har dee har.”
-
Saturday.
“Hi,” Steve says, when he appears on Danny’s doorstep on Saturday. He’s holding a carton tray with two cups of coffee and a paper bag that carries the logo of the bakery that’s on the way between their two houses.
Danny lets him in. “You know that barring inconveniently timed crime, we don’t work today, right?”
“Yes,” Steve says. He puts his offerings down on the table. “But it’s your first weekend without Melissa, so I was just coming over to see if-”
“Oh wow,” Danny says, rudely interrupting Steve, because in the middle of a sentence things click into place. “You came over to see if I wanted to have sex.”
Steve looks so surprised it’s probably a good thing he already put the coffee down. “Well, no,” he says, and the flying height of his eyebrows convinces Danny that he’s speaking the truth. It’s really damn inconvenient that this is the one time there’s no road to distract Steve.
Danny grabs a cup of coffee. It’s better than having to look at Steve while Steve is staring at him. “Right. Forget I said that. Bad joke.”
“Right.” Steve takes the other cup, fumbles with the lid for a moment, brings it halfway up to his mouth and lowers his hand again. “But it’s not- That is, if you wanted to…”
Danny squints. “Do you want to?”
“I asked first,” Steve deflects.
“Does that mean yes but you don’t want to admit it?”
Steve doesn’t say anything, which is definitely a yes that he doesn’t want to admit.
Danny can, maybe, be the first to cede a little ground here. “Because I’d, uh-” That’s about as far as he gets, but between the lines those two and a half words mean plenty.
Steve’s response, another form of cautious relenting, proves as much. “You sure?”
“Well, we both wanted, you know. Boring sex on a flat surface.”
Steve watches him for a long, tingly moment. “What if I’m not bored?”
“We can try again until you are.”
“Sure,” Steve says, lightly, like he’s not committing to potentially a lifetime of having sex with Danny. They’ve been a lot of things together, but bored has never been one of them.
“Alright,” Danny says, and puts his coffee down. He’s going to need both hands free for this.
-
Sunday.
“Bored yet?” Danny asks, when he wakes from his post-coitus midday nap because Steve is coming back from a bathroom break.
Steve makes some very genuine contented old man noises as he settles back in under the covers, as horizontal and comfortable as any person can be. “Not even close.” He throws an arm over Danny’s waist, Danny hooks an ankle over his leg, and they do an incredibly exciting race to see who can fall back asleep the fastest.
It’s a tie, as far as anyone can tell.