I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: This is my first attempt at "Jot it Down July" and a contribution to "Thirstday" U.S.T (which I needed help in deciphering - thanks Phoebe!).

CHAPTER SUMMARY: (rated T for Mature). Thoughts from Steve and Danny's POV after a brief undercover op. Pre slash. Mutual pining. Danny is "handsy". Steve wants more. Both are sadly oblivious about the other's very similar wants and thoughts. Some bad language.

So here we are and I'll see if the muse decides to cooperate for the other "days" of the week sometime this happy, hot and steamy month of July. I'm already out of order in the days of the week and I may skip a few days entirely to get to Smuturday ... but I didn't see a rule about having to start posting on a Sunday Songday or being in sequential order!

**big grin**

The days are tagged as follows and anyone/everyone should feel welcome to joining in regardless of fandom or pairing - please see the moderators of this fun challenge on A03 if you need info because this is all I got and I got it from them! (tarialdarion and nihilvanum)

1. Songday (Angsty songs! Fluffy songs! Songs with unmentionable lines! ALL THE FIC INSPIRED BY THE MOST POIGNANT OF LYRICS)

2. Marrieday (Is it a fake marriage where there's *gasp* ONLY ONE BED? Is it a divorce AU? you decide.)

3. Tropesday (DO YOU LIKE MUTUAL PINING AND COLLEGE AUS? I THINK YOU DO)

4. Whumpnesday (WHO WANTS TO READ THEIR FAVORITE CHARACTERS CRYING)

5. Thirstday (U S T)

6. Fluffday (Because nothing finishes out the work week like cuddling and sharing cookies)

And last, but oh certainly not least:

7. Smuturday (Rated E for excellently explicit)

H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O -

Entry 1 - Thirstday: " I'M GOOD AT MY JOB"

Steve heard Danny as he joked about the undercover op and his role.

"What can I say? I'm just dammed good at my job," Danny boasted with a good-natured laugh.

Hiding the hurt in his eyes, Steve tried to smile too as he popped the trunk to the Camaro and blindly reached for his go-bag. His skin was over heated to his own touch and his breathing just a bit off as he changed his filthy tee-shirt for a clean one. As he tugged the material over the sweaty dampness of his chest, he swore that he could still feel the rough drag of his partner's fingers over his skin.

'I have to make this look good,' Danny had said as he'd rucked up Steve's tee-shirt. He'd traced the ridges of Steve's six-pack, then higher over the nobs of his ribs. Higher still to the planes of his chest.

If it had looked good, he knew for a fact that it had felt even better and Steve cleared his throat, knowing his face was bright red now. He ducked down, deeper into the trunk of the car, a sad attempt to get himself under control.

He failed though as he accidentally bumped his cock into the rim of the trunk. His startled groan at just how good his body still knew Danny's ploy had felt was swallowed by the depths of the Camaro.

Steve took a brief moment to close his eyes. He still felt the way Danny had teasingly nipped at his lips. The way his tongue had dared trace a hot, wet line ... and Steve intentionally pressed his hips firmly against the car's bumper. He gave himself a subtle roll trying to quell the reactive twitch inside his pants.

It didn't work. Not at all.

Down boy ... this simply wouldn't do because it wasn't real.

It was all a game.

None of it was real.

Danny had been simply putting on a show because he was dammed good at his job.

Unable to help himself, Steve glanced over his shoulder towards where Danny was standing. He wiped at the rim of sweat beading his upper lip. Danny's back was to him, his hands gesturing wildly through the air as they always did as he bonded and commiserated with the other members of the small op.

They'd likely never see this small handful of agents again and yet, Danny had embraced them like long lost brothers. Comrades in arms.

But he'd embraced Steve like a long-time lover and Steve swallowed hard as he felt his face heat up. He touched his own lips, still tasting the scent of Danny's breath. Stale coffee. A subtle hint of spearmint. He swallowed again as his throat closed up and he dared admit something to himself.

He didn't want to just be Danny's job.

"Shit," Steve cursed under his breath. The group was breaking up. Saying their good-byes until the formal debriefing. He hurried himself along, slamming the trunk closed and practically diving into the drivers seat when he sensed Danny striding back towards him.

"You all right? You're awfully - you know - not chatty," Danny said in the quiet of the car as they drove back to the Palace. He paused, glanced towards Steve, tried to smile but didn't quite make it. Instead, he fidgeted uncomfortably and then stared out the passenger window.

"Hey, I'm sorry you know. If I went too far. I didn't mean for that to happen ..."

"No. It's fine. Don't apologize," Steve interrupted with an idle wave of his hand. "We did what we had to do ... we're professionals, right?"

His face was hot again though. He could feel the blush clear up to his ears as he stared studiously at the road in front of him. He was desperate to palm his crotch. It was a struggle to keep his casual, one-hipped slouch, both hands firmly on the wheel.

"Yeah, right," Danny murmured softly. "Professionals." The remark seemed so strangely fraught with meaning, Steve chanced a glance towards the passenger seat. But an illogical flare of hope died as quickly as their conversation. He didn't learn anything new. Danny was still gazing out the window, a distant look in his eyes.

If Danny noticed that their conversation waned by the time they'd gotten to the Palace, he didn't question it. They walked through the main doors like they always did, side by side, shoulder to shoulder. This time though, Steve was cognizant of every subtle brush of Danny's arm against his. He was sensitive to the musky scent of Danny's skin. He keenly felt the loss of his partner's body when Danny suddenly veered left for the men's room.

"See ya inside," Danny said as he slipped through the door.

"Sure," Steve mumbled to the air as he forced his legs to keep going. Feeling bereft as he waited for his partner, Steve sat behind the desk, blaming the way he was shivering on the high blast of the air conditioning and not on the way his right hand was anchored to the front of his cargoes.

Down boy, indeed.

H5O* H5O

As soon as Danny made it through the door and he confirmed that he was alone in the men's room. He leaned against the cool wall, feeling weak and not just a little bit shaky. Eyes closed, he intentionally rapped the back of his skull against the hard tile as he replayed the last few minutes of their undercover op.

"You're a stupid ass Williams," he berated himself softly. "What the hell were you thinking?"

He'd practically tipped his hand to his partner. He'd virtually told Steve how much he lusted after the man by the way he'd melded his body against his as part of a last minute ruse. And had it been necessary or had he jumped at an excuse for an opportunity to cop a feel?

Steal a kiss?

As he licked his lips, searching for remnants of salt and sea, Danny wasn't all that sure anymore.

Yeah, they'd kept their cover. Protected their op and gotten their man. But at what expense?

He'd risked their friendship with a kiss which he'd hadn't been able to control. Hands that were far too conversant in their wants and needs. For what he'd been really thinking, Danny had been anything but professional.

Danny sucked in a lungful of air to try and steady the racing of his heart. He could still feel him though and the way ... Steve's fingers had traveled up the sensitive inner skin of his forearm. The way he'd cupped Danny's elbow as if to intentionally pull him in closer.

Danny desperately tried to quiet his heart and yet it only stampeded all the harder, making his breath stutter-stop inside his lungs. So he closed his eyes and simply gave in to it.

Just in this rare moment of solitude, Danny let himself remember the power and strength under the unexpected softness of Steve's skin. He let himself conjure the smell - the soothing scent of the ocean - stuck in Steve's hair; taste the salt of the Pacific from an early morning swim. He wanted to believe that the way Steve had canted his head to the side ... the way he had so gently parted his lips and had so willingly allowed Danny in, that he'd wanted Danny just as much.

That he'd felt something.

But it was all a sham. There had been no spark. Danny was deluding himself because there had been nothing ... and he'd done nothing more than embarrass the man. And quite frankly, he'd embarrassed himself, too.

Danny's eyes sprung open in shame and alarm.

"Jesus Christ, what did I do?" Danny berated himself as he thumped the back of his head just a little bit harder into the wall. He wanted Steve so much, it physically hurt.

As he forced himself off the tile of the men's room wall, Danny cursed himself for probably sabotaging the best friendship he'd ever had and trying to blame it all on being good at his job. Steve had clearly been uncomfortable - still was - he was hardly talking. He'd been in such a rush to leave the scene, Steve had barely said a cordial fare thee well to the rest of the team.

It all tallied up to one clear thing: Danny had royally screwed up.

And for what?

"You dumb fuck. What the hell did you just do?"

~ End. ~