the reluctant lobotomist (fourfreedoms) wrote,
the reluctant lobotomist

Fic: Damnable

Title: Damnable
Author: [personal profile] sweetprince/fourfreedoms
Fandom: H50
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Word Count: 1,643
Rating: R
Summary: Steve and Danny get thrown into a storage locker. Steve gets bored.
Notes: Originally written for a prompt over here.

Danny violently awakens with the sensation that he's rising and falling. His head hurts like he's been clenching his teeth and he doesn't know where the hell he is. The last thing he remembers is taking Steve's six as he raced into a warehouse. "Bwuh," he says, scrabbling for purchase on something that feels suspiciously like a body.

"Oof," and that's definitely Steve's voice. Danny is a smart guy. He knows what that means and he does not like it. Steve grabs both of his hands before he can do any damage and says, "Glad you're awake."

"Why am I lying on top of you? You can't just co-opt people as blankets--"

"Danny, if I could have put you somewhere else, I would've," Steve replies. After a moment he adds, "You knead, like a cat."

Danny ignores the comment. "What do you mean would've?" He tries to sit straight up and bashes his head on a metal surface with a loud clang.

"I believe we've been placed in a metal storage locker," Steve says now that Danny's head has met with what is ostensibly the lid.

"Jesus fuck! Is there air? Are we going to die? Who the hell does something like this?" He feels around for the side of the box, there's only a few inches space on either side of Steve's body. Steve shrugs away from his groping fingers, but there's nowhere to go. "I hate you and all the people you know who like to be creative, instead of just tying a guy to a chair and punching him a few times."

"Shut up, Danno," Steve says measuredly. He can tell from the sound of Steve's voice that he's clenching his jaw. "Yes there's air. By my estimation we've been in here three hours. It's not air tight."

"Three hours? And what was I doing, just sleeping?" Danny replies sarcastically thumping Steve in the chest.

"Apparently you were comfortable," Steve says. It is really weird to feel Steve's perpetual 'whatever' shrug from the position of lying on top of him. Actually it's just weird to feel it in general.

"Comfortable? What the hell does that mean--"

"Do you think you could--" Steve tries but Danny plows ahead over him.

"And why are you so calm? Does anybody know where we are? Are we going to starve in here? Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm supposed to pick Grace up from school today." He punctuates it with another thump to Steve's chest.

"Er, Danno--" he sounds pained. Well that's just great, he should be pained.

"And if you had just gone in there at least pretending at conciliation, they probably wouldn't have gotten so angry and shoved us in a storage locker. Shoot first, ask questions later is remarkably impo--ack!"he breaks off as Steve pushes a knee between his thighs and levers him up and to the side of the locker."What are you doing? Why would you ever--" he breaks off because he can feel Steve's thigh flexing against his dick which is so many levels of things that aren't supposed to happen to him.

"Sorry," Steve says, "You were uh...cutting off the circulation to my balls."

"You couldn't just say, "Danny, get off my nuts?'"

Steve sounds annoyed now. "I tried that--"

Steve is still holding Danny pinned to the side of the storage locker with his knee and what about how that's uncomfortable for his nuts? He tries to untangle their legs, but in the tight space he just winds up scrabbling around weakly, causing extremely unwanted friction on his dick. There really is a limit to how close you're supposed to get with your partner. He gives up.

Danny snorts. "Tried, my ass. You are action man. You were probably just dying to show me your whole bag of SEAL tricks."

"Bag of seal tricks?" Steve replies dryly.

"Shut up, you know what I mean, I bet you don't even believe foreplay, action man."

"Don't even believe in--Danny, I don't think taking charge in a situation and disregarding foreplay are analogous."

He thumps Steve's chest a third time. "Analogous? Seriously? Did you actually say that?"

Steve catches his hand, pressing it to his chest to stop Danny from hitting him again. "Your logic implies that I wouldn't find foreplay gratifying the way I don't find sitting around with my thumb up my ass, while extremely bad men are planning ways to kill people gratifying. But that would be a false hypothesis, because I do find foreplay gratifying."

Danny should never have steered the conversation down this road. Especially not with his dick riding on Steve's thigh.

Steve sounds amused. "Why, Danny? You want proof of my skills?"

"No. No, I do not want proof of your skills, of course your enormous ego would think--"

Steve shifts Danny back over his hips, positioning Danny's ear right next to his mouth. "Wanna get acquainted with my...enormous ego?" Oh dear god, a line like that should make his skin crawl.

"You are unbelievable--" he starts, but Steve's teeth scrape over his jaw, tongue running a line after it all the way to his adam's apple. And how does Steve know about that? How does he know to touch the small of Danny's back? Or to push down with his fingers right where the muscles of Danny's neck run into his skull. Also, when exactly did he decide it would be a good idea to seduce his partner inside a metal box? He can only imagine how Steve's parents must have suffered when he was little and got bored. And despite the fact that he is aware of this, how very strange, in fact downright ludicrous, it is to be grinding up against your partner and touching him especially inside a metal box, he can't bring himself to stop. God, he hates Steve and the way he is so damnably good at this.

"Recon," Steve replies, nipping his earlobe. Oh right, well of course. That explains everything."People are usually careful about the places they find particularly sensitive, like right..." he says, trailing off as he runs his thumb in circles over Danny's last cervical vertebrae, "here."

He finds himself thrusting hard against Steve's thigh, moaning every time Steve pushes a new button. Like sliding his fingers just under the cuffs of Danny's sleeves. And how is that so hot. It's a sleeve and a forearm for christ's sake.

"How could anybody not find this gratifying?" Steve says, "watching somebody fall apart, helping them get there."

"Christ, of course it's still about your enormous ego," he says, between breaths. "Also shut up, you're killing the mood."

Steve laughs and Danny can feel it through his chest. He kisses him to shut him up. He really doesn't want to hear about Steve's troubling god complex. On second thought that was probably not the most brilliant idea. Getting off in a metal box is really something completely different from making out in a metal box. But Steve doesn't stop him. Of course he doesn't. His mouth opens up under Danny's and it is messy and rough, because you don't reserve care and tenderness for macking inside a storage locker.

He may love Steve's mouth a little bit though, the way his lips curve, the slick flesh on the other side of his teeth. The way he shudders when Danny bites at him. He supposes he shouldn't be surprised Steve has a biting kink. At some point, Steve tears his mouth away, breathing hard. It's a milestone because he's never even seen Steve out of breath.

"Quiet, Danno," Steve says, voice thready, hands pushing between their bodies to work Danny's pants open. Danny wants to protest, there is really not enough room, but then Steve's hand is around him and he's shifting at a slight diagonal so that Danny's weight is not on top of his arm. Danny curses the fact that he knows Steve is jerking him off with his non-dominant hand just because he knows everything like that about Steve.

Steve pushes at the head of his dick, thumb sliding easily through precome and sweat and it's enough to make him forget for a moment how much Steve pisses him off. He's reminded when Steve chuckles in response to the sound he makes.

He comes in his pants, face buried into Steve's neck. Steve's enormously irritating voice talking him through it. He feels like a teenager at his first party, rolling around on somebody else's parents' bed. It's dirty and nasty, because this is his boss and he hates him, ("no, you don't," Steve said, voice strained) but he doesn't stop thrusting back against Steve, stretching out the collar of Steve's casual t-shirt to bite his way along his collarbone.

"Jesus," Steve hisses when he thumbs the tendons in Steve's rotator cuff. His hips snap up against Danny's when he keeps pushing. He's guessing old injury, just enough pain to put an edge on it.

Finally Steve comes when Danny was just starting to feel Steve was holding out to annoy him. He can feel Steve's eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. The delicate scrape is enough to turn him on all over again. This is insane, completely insane, he thinks as he listens to Steve's breath pushing out of his chest in gratifying gasps.

Which is of course the moment that the door of the storage locker is peeled back. Danny cranes over his shoulder to look at Kono.

"Well hey, guys! You missed the party," she says, grinning down.

Steve thunks his head on the metal sheet of the bottom. The worst thing is that Danny knows it's because he didn't get to shoot anybody and not because he's going to have to climb out of a metal box with Danny and explain the wet crotch on his pants.
Tags: fic, h50, steve/danny
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