Work Text:
It's all Kono's fucking idea. "Traditional first anniversary gift is paper," she said and then she'd emailed him the contact info for Hawaii's top boudoir photographer. And because he's absolutely shit at picking out decent presents he books an appointment with the damn boudoir photographer thinking, "How bad could it be?"
The answer: being pricked repeatedly in the eyeballs in the sixth ring of hell while being devoured by angry flesh eating ferrets would be better than this.
Danny is straddling some kind of bench. It's itchy and it's making his knee ache. He feels utterly ridiculous.
"More, darling. More!" The photographer is a spectacularly made up woman. Danny is pretty sure he hasn't seen anyone wearing that much makeup since that time his sister caked an entire bottle of "ivory splendor" foundation and most of a tube of "crimson passion" lipstick on his face and neck when he was four years old. He still has the photos--maybe he can give those to Steve instead.
"Darling. Wet your lips. Pout! Chin up! Think naughty thoughts, darling! Naughty!" It's very hard to think naughty thoughts with Princess Maybelline shouting at him while he's dry humping the world's single most uncomfortable bench. Seriously. This thing must have been made by sadists. Were there sadistic upholsterers out there wielding staple guns purely for the misery of others?
"Daniel! You are not with me! Be here! With me!" Princess Maybelline, because Danny can't remember her name--it might be Leticia, or Larissa, or maybe Ludmilla. Wait. No one could actually be called Ludmilla, right?
"Fernando! This isn't working. I need you. Now!" Princess Maybelline's voice goes from sultry to shrill in about two seconds flat.
A small, dark haired man who only comes up to Princess Maybelline's impressive bosom rushes into the room and offers PM a pack of Pall Malls, a long rhinestone encrusted cigarette holder, and what looks like a fifth of Johnny Walker Black in a cut crystal flower vase. It's the largest damn tumbler Danny had ever seen, or maybe it really is a vase.
"Fernando! Inspire me!" PM flips a hand in the air.
"Can I stop straddling the bench now, please?" Danny doesn't wait for permission. He makes a mental not to have words with Kono about this. Words. Lots of them.
Fernando walks around Danny with a finger pressed thoughtfully against his chin. "Lose the shorts."
"Excuse me?"
"The shorts! Off with your shorts!" Fernando waves his hands as if he can conjure Danny's cut offs into non-existence.
"Uh, I'm not wearing anything underneath." Danny actually honest to God blushes.
"Goodie!" Fernando claps. Danny has never hated anyone more.
PM finishes of her scotch and waves her large camera around. "Yes. Let's lose the shorts, darling. Do you need a drink to loosen you up? I think that's an excellent idea. Fernando! Freshen me up and bring a couple of fingers for Mr. Sexy Detective here."
"Actually it's just detective. Not Mr. Sexy Detective." Danny accepts a similar vase of scotch from Fernando who actually minces back into the room. Danny has never seen anyone mince in real life before. It's disturbing. The scotch smells like his Uncle Melvin and if anything in the world is guaranteed to make him think unsexy thoughts? It's his Uncle Melvin. The man always has a cigar clamped in his yellow teeth, wears a bowling shirt not quite covering his gut, and there's alwas a glass of scotch somewhere nearby him.
Danny sets the vase of scotch down and says, "Let's just get this over with."
The next thirty minutes of his life are, well, unpleasant doesn't really begin to cover it, but he can't think of a word that means awful and mortifying and cramp inducing. And he can't think of Steve at all. Danny couldn't conjure up one spark of desire, or love, or any of the weepy bullshit that Steve McGarrett makes him feel on a normal day. This is not a normal day. This is the day of dry humping the world's most horrible furniture while being steeped in the noxious perfume of Johnny Walker and Pall Malls.
Danny goes out to his car and does his best to forget any of this ever happened. Unfortunately Steve is already home when he arrives and wants to know why he smells like someone's aunt Gertrude. Danny mutters "Uncle Melvin, actually." And then takes the world's longest shower. After which he takes a second shower, until Steve comes into the bathroom and bitches about conserving natural resources and why can't Danny put the empty beer bottles in the fucking recycling bin instead of leaving them in the sink.
Danny has to remind himself that he loves this man more than life itself to keep himself from doing something truly juvenile, like giving Steve the super atomic wedgie of doom that he and his brother had perfected by the time they were ten.
A week later Steve instant messages Danny and asks him to come into his office for a moment.
"Did you really just IM me instead of walking twenty feet to speak to me? Really?" Danny smoothes down his tie.
"Close the door."
"Steven, I was in the middle of finishing the report you demanded I have ready for you no later than two pm. Maybe you can do two things at once with your insane SEAL training, but us mere mortals need to focus and do one thing at a time."
"Danny?"
"Yes, Steven?"
"What the hell are these?" Steve opens a white box and Danny nearly passes out. There is a black and white photo of Danny writhing (tastefully but not gratuitously naked) on the velvet bench of misery.
"Oh, shit. How did you get those?"
"Someone left them for you and I thought it was the..." Steve looks right and then left and leans forwards. "You know. Those movies we ordered."
"So you opened a box of porn at work? Brilliant." Deflect, Danny thinks. Deflect his attention away from the box of embarrassment.
"OK. But what are these?" Steve flips through the photos, with a grin on his face that makes Danny distinctly uncomfortable. "Oh. I think this one is my favorite."
Steve holds up a photo of Danny in nothing but a feather boa with an expression on his face that can only indicate acute appendicitis has set in.
"Do not laugh at me, Steven." Danny buries his face in his hands. "I was trying to do something nice for you."
Steve tries not to smile or laugh, but Danny knows him too well.
"You know I'm not good at presents." Danny throws up his hands in exasperation.
Steve crosses his arms and nods, trying even harder not to laugh. "Yes. I do seem to remember that for my last birthday you bought me a dust buster."
"We needed one for the sand you're always tracking in!" Danny runs his fingers through his hair and makes one last desperate attempt to explain himself. "It's our anniversary next Tuesday and Kono told me that it's traditional to give paper gifts and well, I tried..."
"You tried what?" Steve frowns down at the photo of Danny writhing in agony.
"To er... you know." Danny waves his hand at the box.
"Well, it's the thought that counts, right?"
"I hate you." Danny goes back to his office and glares at the report on his monitor and doesn't finish it until ten past two just to be a nudge.
The week leading up to their anniversary is not exactly friendly. Danny and Steve sleep in the same bed, eat meals together, ride to work together, go to the grocery store together, and floss their teeth together. It has all the romance of an old couple examining each others bunions.
And worst of all Danny can't think of another gift to give Steve for their godforsaken anniversary. He'd bought a card. It has a seal on it. The kind with flippers. Danny bought it because Steve hates puns, which is childish on Danny's part. Yes, he's aware of that, thank you.
Steve starts acting shifty the day before their anniversary. He takes several phone calls in private, which is weird. One phone call in private is cool. Three is weird. Six is making Danny deeply suspicious. On Tuesday morning Danny wakes up to find himself alone in bed, which is normal when you live with a lunatic. But when Danny goes down to get coffee Steve isn't there. There's no beach towel waiting on the porch for his return and Steve's truck is not in the driveway. The asshole didn't even leave a note. Happy Anniversary, fucker. Danny is too angry for coffee. That's never happened before.
Danny tries to corner Steve twice at work before Steve runs out of the building like his ass is on fire.
Kono finds Danny in his office stabbing little paper effigies with an unbent paperclip.
"You OK there, Danny?"
"Does." Stab. "It." Stab. "Look." Stab. "Like." Stab stab. "I'm all right?" Stab.
"No, not really." She bites her bottom lip.
"Well, then why did you ask? Huh?"
"It seemed like the thing to do." She shrugs. "I have a message for you. The governor wants to see you right away. Something about that case last month."
"The one with the exploding gecko." Danny nods. He knew this day was coming, has been expecting it. This is life as Mr. Daniel Williams-McGarrett, or McGarrett-Williams--they still haven't settled that little argument yet.
And the absolute cherry on fucking top of the shit sundae that is his life? When he gets out into the parking lot his car is gone. Danny thinks about lying down in rush hour traffic, but doesn't because Grace would be unhappy.
Someone taps Danny on the shoulder and when Danny turns around he does not expect to see Fernando. Fernando in a powder blue leisure suit. Where did he even find a leisure suit? He's probably had it since the seventies. He's a little long in the tooth, well preserved, but that might be makeup.
Danny realizes he's staring at Fernado's face to see if he can detect pancake makeup and Fernando politely clears his throat and waits until he has Danny's attention.
"Come with me!"
Danny wonders why Fernando is incapable of speaking without exclaiming, but he imagines life with PM might do that to you.
"Come with me!" Fernando repeats with a little flourish.
"I'm not going anywhere with you." Danny has had enough of this day. This day is dead to him.
"Yes. Come along!" Fernando waves imperiously at a purple 1978 Cadillac, and Danny knows it's a 1978 because Uncle Melvin had the same car and Danny was sick in the backseat on a trip home from Coney Island and he's never heard the end of it.
Danny throws up his hands and gets in the car, which smells a little funky, which leads Danny to wonder if this is his Uncle Melvin's old car? And that's when Danny knows he's about one micron away from losing his shit permanently. He grinds his teeth while Fernando drives like a little blue haired old lady--all over the road, but very slowly all over the road. After Fernando runs a second stop sign Danny is tempted to write him a ticket, but he just doesn't have the energy, or a pen.
He's extremely confused when Fernando pulls the Cadillac into his own damn driveway. His Camaro is there at least.
Fernando hands Danny an envelope and that gives Danny a very bad feeling.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" Danny waves the envelope in Fernando's face.
"It's an envelope! You open it!"
Out of self preservation, Danny's thoughts begin to wander. He thinks Fernando should really have a little mustache. It would suit him. Danny shakes his head and opens the envelope before Fernando rips it out of his hands and opens it for him.
Inside is a card. A blank card. Danny blinks at it.
"Turn it over!" Fernando is so excited that Danny is worried he's going to have an accident of some kind.
Danny turns over the card and there is one word written on it: UPSTAIRS.
Danny gets out of the car and marches into the house like he's about to face the Spanish Inquisition--except that "nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!" Dear God. He's thinking in exclamations now! He stomps up the stairs and shoves open the bedroom door and his jaw drops.
Princess Maybelline is in his bedroom smoking Pall Malls and adjusting Klieg lights on Steve. Who is naked. Not tastefully naked so all you can see is a slice of ass, but balls out naked. And the lights are very bright. Seriously, you can see every vein.
"Am I hallucinating?"
"Darling!" PM gives him an air kiss on each cheek and nearly clocks him with her enormous camera. Danny feels drunk and he wonders if her hair is permanently stuck up in the air in a big poof like that.
"Danny?" Steve pulls him aside. "Why are you staring at her hair like that?"
"She smells like my Uncle Melvin."
"The one whose Caddy you puked in?"
"Why is she here?" Danny has forgotten that Steve is naked until he looks down. "And why are you giving her an all access pass?"
"It's your anniversary present." Steve gives him a shit eating grin.
"You took off all your clothes in front of woman who scares the crap out of me as a gift?"
"Here." Steve undoes Danny's tie and hands him a glass of champagne.
"You know I don't like champagne." Danny glares at the flute.
"It's beer." Steve starts unbuttoning Danny's shirt and Danny spews beer on Steve's chest.
"I love it!" PM starts snapping photos, almost blinding Danny with the flash.
"Whoa." Danny slaps Steve's hands away and holds up his hand up at PM like she's part of the paparazzi. "What is this? What the hell is going on?"
"Darling! Steven called me and told me how unhappy you were with your photos. And I couldn't have that! So we decided you'd be more comfortable posing for photos with him."
Danny looks to Steve for confirmation. Steve nods. Danny collapses onto the bed and PM goes back to snapping photos and making chirpy commands like, "More oomph!" and "Be fierce!" Danny just lies there with his hands over his face.
Steve pulls off Danny's shoes and pants and Danny just doesn't care anymore. Until Steve goes for his boxers. He is not sharing his junk with PM again. She's seen it once and that was enough.
"Come on. Do this for me and I'll do that thing you like later." Steve slips his hand inside Danny's waistband and dammit, OK, maybe the romance isn't completely dead.
"What thing?" Danny is being coy. He knows exactly what thing.
Steve knows he has him and he grins and kisses Danny sweetly, then not so sweetly, and then not at all anything approaching sweet. Steve's hands are in his hair and really there is nothing else in the world except the stroke of Steve's tongue against his own. How does he smell so amazing? Even after he's run ten miles and rolled in something dead, he still smells incredible. Though right now he's neither sweaty, nor covered in anything that used to be alive. He tastes like beer, and the faintest trace of salt. Danny could give up food and live on Steve. Well, maybe he couldn't give up pizza. Though it's not like you can get a decent slice around here.
"Danny," Steve whispers in his ear. "Your mind is wandering. Stay with me."
And then Steve kisses his way down Danny's body and Danny is only dimly aware of a strange clicking noise and the vague scent of his dead uncle. Mostly he's aware of Steve's mouth and the path it traces down his stomach and over his hip. Each flick of Steve's tongue reminds him of why he agreed to spend the rest of his life with this man and his amazing mouth. Not that Danny's shallow and just married Steve for the sex, but the sex is kind of mind blowing. There's nothing wrong with enjoying sex with your life partner.
"Danny. You're wandering again." Steve bites Danny's thigh and when he knows he has Danny's full attention he lets his breath ghost over Danny's cock, just a tease before he kisses back up Danny's other hip. He trails his fingers closer and closer to where Danny wants him to be and Danny is arching into his hands, begging Steve to touch him. He's nearly crazed with wanting when Steve finally sucks Danny into his hot, wet mouth. Danny's not ashamed that he doesn't last very long. It's been a long day--a long damn week and Steve is very talented.
And that's when Danny notices the clicking noise has stopped. He looks over and PM is gone. There's a card on the floor that Steve retrieves. He reads it aloud because Danny is too boneless to do it himself.
"Darlings! Thought you could carry on without me. Expect your spectacular new photos in a week! SMOOCHES. -Ludmilla"
"No one is really named Ludmilla," Danny says.
"Obviously I haven't done my job properly if that's all you can think to say."
"Well, get on with it." Danny waves at his naked body, inviting Steve to get on with the program.
"Happy anniversary," Steve says and then he does that thing and Danny doesn't remember to say it back for quite some time.