Well, he does; Danny would love nothing more than to get Steve into some professional-looking clothing, but this isn't the time or the place for it. No, that'll be for his birthday in a few months' time. This needs to be something else entirely. Something with meaning. Something... personal.
"Babe," Danny tries, sitting on Steve's couch. They're as close as they always are - close enough that if Danny just leans over, he'll be touching Steve. Too close for plausible deniability, but they've always been this close, always.
"What?" Steve asks, frown on his face, and Danny realises that he started a thought and never followed it up.
"Uh," Danny says, for once at a loss for words. He reaches out and gingerly traces the bandage on Steve's arm; Steve inhales softly, but doesn't say anything. Danny looks at his fingers as they trail around the edges of the bandage: up, across, down, over. He drags his eyes up when he touches the corner he started on, and Steve's got this look on his face that's asking so much and saying the same amount.
It clicks suddenly, what Danny wants to give him, what he wants in return. He leans in and gently presses his lips to the edge of the bandage, them to the top of Steve's shoulder, and then, ever so softly, to Steve's lips.
Gift: Hawaii Five-0, Steve/Danny, Danny tries to pick out the perfect thanks for not being dead pres
Well, he does; Danny would love nothing more than to get Steve into some professional-looking clothing, but this isn't the time or the place for it. No, that'll be for his birthday in a few months' time. This needs to be something else entirely. Something with meaning. Something... personal.
"Babe," Danny tries, sitting on Steve's couch. They're as close as they always are - close enough that if Danny just leans over, he'll be touching Steve. Too close for plausible deniability, but they've always been this close, always.
"What?" Steve asks, frown on his face, and Danny realises that he started a thought and never followed it up.
"Uh," Danny says, for once at a loss for words. He reaches out and gingerly traces the bandage on Steve's arm; Steve inhales softly, but doesn't say anything. Danny looks at his fingers as they trail around the edges of the bandage: up, across, down, over. He drags his eyes up when he touches the corner he started on, and Steve's got this look on his face that's asking so much and saying the same amount.
It clicks suddenly, what Danny wants to give him, what he wants in return. He leans in and gently presses his lips to the edge of the bandage, them to the top of Steve's shoulder, and then, ever so softly, to Steve's lips.
It might be the best gift he's ever given.