Rating: M for sexual content and violence.
Warnings: references to canonical character death and its repercussions; non-graphic violence; serious angst (but with a happy ending).
Spoilers: up to 1x18, then goes AU; Jenna never arrived, and the events of the final few episodes never happened. Very minor spoilers for 1x20 as well.
Word Count: 2,500 words.

Summary: Steve knows he freaked Danny out with that early morning phone call.

Author's notes: This is the companion piece to 'Even when you're feeling warm', which you should definitely read first! That story is from Danny's perspective; this shorter fic gives Steve's take on the same day.

The title comes from one of my favourite songs, Four seasons in one day by Crowded House.

Steve knows he freaked Danny out with that early morning phone call. He should have done it yesterday; hell, he should have decided days or weeks ago to take today off. But he'd been determined to work through it, no matter what.

Last night, though, he barely slept at all. Every time he closed his eyes, his father's murder replayed in vivid detail. It didn't matter that Steve hadn't witnessed it himself. He'd heard the gunshot, he'd examined the crime scene photos, and he'd lived in the place where it happened for the past year.

His brain tortured him with other permutations, too, in nightmare after nightmare. Steve was in the room with Dad, unable to move and unable to stop Victor Hesse; Steve was holding the gun, as his father begged for mercy; Danny was the one bound to a chair, telling Steve he loved him with his final breath.

Steve woke up screaming from that last dream. He didn't want to risk falling asleep again, so he knuckled the tears from his eyes, pulled on his swim trunks, and padded down to the moonlit beach. The water was cold, but as a SEAL he'd done night swims in far worse conditions.

Though he swam hard and fast, Steve couldn't wash those images out of his mind. Heading back to shore, he toweled himself off and made some strong coffee. Then he sat out on the lanai, the pre-dawn air chilling him to the bone, and waited until sunrise before calling Danny.

He could have explained why he needed the day off, but Steve didn't want to hear well-meaning pity in Danny's voice. Anyway, some irrational part of him feels he shouldn't have to spell it out: Danny should have remembered, should have read Steve's mind even though they've been at each other's throats for days.

Steve collects the Honolulu Star-Advertiser from the front lawn and reads it over breakfast. Despite Jack McGarrett's three decades of service to this island, the paper contains no reference to the first anniversary of his death. Steve himself hadn't inserted an in-memoriam notice, but nor had the HPD brass or the police union or any of Dad's friends.

Maybe Steve and Mary – shit, he should call her tonight – are the only people who still give a damn.

Hell...it was Dad's case that brought Five-0 together, but Steve's loss wound up being his teammates' gain. Chin mourned for his old partner, true, but in twelve months he's gone from being a disgraced security guard to getting his name cleared and his fiancée back. Danny was pulled from HPD, where he was underappreciated and unhappy, and now has more authority and respect. And Kono, well, she's probably had better on-the-job training than any rookie in history.

Though Steve's feeling bitter right now, he can't truly resent the others. The three of them have helped more than they will ever know, giving him a reason to keep going and – once Hesse was finally behind bars – a reason to stay in Hawaii. Steve could've gone back to active duty after that, but law enforcement has somehow seeped into his bones.

No, Steve admits to himself as he gets into his truck, that's only part of it. The truth is, Danny has seeped into his bones. Leaving Five-0 now, leaving his partner, would be like losing a limb.

Steve gets to the North Shore early, beating the tourist crowds. The big winter swells won't arrive for a couple of months yet, but there are still some decent waves. He rents a board and paddles out, the water cool and refreshing.

He's been too busy this past year to do much surfing. The skill set is still there, though, and the love of it too. By the time he rides his last wave to shore, Steve's eyes are stinging from the salt, his muscles are cramping, and his skin is goose-pimpled. But he feels a lot more alive, and a little more okay, than he did before.

After grabbing lunch in Hale'iwa, he drives to his next destination. Standing in the parking lot of the Ko'olau state park, Steve looks up at the familiar craggy peak. He hasn't climbed this mountain since his father sent him to the mainland, almost two decades ago.

He'd visited Dad a few times, over the intervening years, and they'd both tried to reconnect. Steve suggested heading up to see the petroglyphs, like they always used to, but Dad said his knees couldn't cope with the hike anymore. And Dad bought a classic car and talked about them working on it together sometime; it stayed under a tarpaulin, untouched.

The last time Steve came home on leave was six years ago. Dad had been withdrawn and distracted, making him feel unwanted and out-of-place. Steve had passed through Oahu a couple of times since then, before or after missions he couldn't discuss in places he couldn't name. He hadn't gone to see Dad on those stopovers, but figured there'd be plenty of time to mend their fences later.

Now, for the first time, Steve is running up this mountain by himself.

He manages to shatter the record he set the first time he beat his father to the top, aged fifteen. It's a bittersweet victory, though, because there's nobody left to care. Steve stands on the summit under a clear blue sky, gulping cold water from his canteen. The chill of the liquid going down makes his chest ache.

Steve turns and retraces his steps, heading down to the petroglyphs. Once he's standing at the base of the cliff, he's pleased to realize that they're as awe-inspiring now as they were to his younger self. So much has changed in the last twenty years that this kind of continuity and solidity feels very reassuring.

He hadn't actually made a plan beyond getting here, so he just rests on the grass and stares up at the carvings. Now Steve's finally sitting still, he feels exhausted. He hasn't pushed himself this hard, on so little sleep, since his SEAL days.

Things had been simpler, back then. Steve had gone where he was told, and killed or captured the targets his superiors said were the bad guys. He'd followed orders, and had his commands obeyed by his team in turn. The only people who asked Steve about his feelings were Navy psychiatrists, and he'd easily bullshitted his way through every mandatory assessment.

Danny, on the other hand...Danny pushes Steve to talk, to share his secrets, to lower his defenses. In short, he wants more from Steve than anyone has before. But if Danny ever learned exactly how much Steve has already given up to him, he'd be shocked and maybe even discomfited. Though he doesn't come across as a homophobe, he sure as hell doesn't ping Steve as queer either.

That's why Steve has no intention of telling Danny how he feels.

Steve sits cross-legged, grounding himself and calming his breathing. He follows the meditation technique he was taught, visualizing waves of pure light that wash away his negative thoughts.

He normally doesn't allow himself to sink too deep, staying aware of his surroundings and the passage of time, but in this place and on this day it's different. His worn-out body and his over-tired mind need this, so he just lets go.

When Steve opens his eyes again, he's surprised to realize that it's mid-afternoon. He stretches, and shakes the pins and needles out of his legs. He feels lighter and calmer now, cleaner somehow, even though his cheeks are wet with tears he doesn't remember shedding.

And then Steve turns around and sees Danny watching him from across the clearing. Negative thoughts flood right back in: white-hot fury at the intrusion into this private day of mourning, and sick shame at letting himself be caught in such a vulnerable position.

He starts yelling, and in a way he's glad of the excuse to let out all his seething resentment. Steve expects Danny to yell back, wants him to put up a fight, but he's calm and reasonable instead. Danny points out that Steve has never left him to suffer alone, and that it goes both ways even if Steve doesn't ask for his help.

In the face of such kindness and loyalty, Steve's anger evaporates. Danny can't stand Hawaii's heat and isn't keen on hiking, but on this humid day he climbed half way up a mountain for Steve. Impatient, loudmouthed Danny has been waiting here quietly, for fuck knows how long, just in case Steve needed him. And even after Steve's been so awful to him, Danny responds with understanding and support.

If he didn't already love this guy, Steve would fall for him right this moment. And when Danny touches his toes to Steve's bare ankle and says that Steve's pretty much stuck with him, no matter what, Steve begins to wonder if the feeling might possibly be mutual.

The heavens suddenly open, and Steve goes from nicely sun-warmed to soaked and shivering. He leads Danny to a familiar hollow, further along the cliff from the petroglyphs.

Steve can't help thinking about the last person he shared this space with, back when he was a kid. And even though Steve hadn't wanted to discuss Dad, he finds himself spilling stories like a fountain. He'd never revealed anything about his family to anyone in the Navy, but it's so easy to talk to his partner like this. Danny doesn't offer pity or platitudes, just some of his own childhood memories in return.

Their bodies are pressed together, their faces inches apart so they can hear each other over the rain. Steve could close his eyes and visualize the two of them sitting like this in bed, naked, warm and dry, intimate in every way. But he won't; he can't. After the day, the week, the year he's had, Steve doesn't trust himself to let go around Danny.

When Danny starts bandaging his blisters, though, everything changes.

Danny's hands flex against his bare feet, and Steve can't drag his gaze away. He loves watching Danny's fingers, whether they're braiding Gracie's hair or cleaning a gun. The sight of that pale, rarely-revealed skin is transfixing too, and Steve barely breathes when Danny presses even closer to him.

And maybe that would have been okay, maybe that could have been explained away – Steve's got a black belt in denial – except that Danny can't reach the last blister on his own. Before he can second-guess himself, Steve offers to help.

It's fucking ridiculous, the way that holding onto Danny's foot short-circuits Steve's brain. He can't let go, physically, but he relinquishes his self-control instead. He finds himself apologizing for earlier, and telling Danny how grateful he is for everything Danny's done.

Danny's response makes Steve wonder just a little more. So he runs an experiment, caressing Danny's ankle with one hand and subtly monitoring his pulse rate with the other. And yeah, there's a definite upwards spike: Danny likes Steve touching him. Is it conscious enjoyment, though, or an involuntary response?

Steve still doesn't have enough data to be sure, and he doesn't want to risk everything based on wishful thinking.

But when Danny takes Steve's declaration of trust as a challenge and immediately pushes for more, Steve takes it as pretty conclusive proof that Danny's interested in him. He can't think of any other reason why Danny would use his one-off chance, his free pass, to ask about Steve's sexuality.

It's a question Steve has tried to avoid answering his whole adult life, especially once DADT was introduced. Post-repeal, there's been nobody he trusts with this secret – except his partner and closest friend, who is part of the damn problem.

Danny asked, though, so Steve tells him the truth. And while Danny's verbal reaction is monosyllabic, his expression says it all...surprise, yeah, but so much delighted hope that it makes Steve's breath catch.

So when Steve asks if Danny is queer too, it's really just to get him to say it out loud. He doesn't expect Danny to admit that he's totally inexperienced with guys. With his mind swamped by possessive lust and his blood rapidly flowing south, Steve becomes a babbling idiot. God, the SEALs who called him 'Smooth Dog' would laugh to see him like this. Danny saves Steve from himself, though, and takes over the conversation.

And once they've established that they want each other, Danny kisses him.

It's delicate at first, hesitant, but it still makes Steve's pulse speed up and makes his cock even harder. He can't help moaning because damn, Danny can kiss. But his eager response just seems to spur Danny on.

Steve thinks about taking control; he knows he could, so easily. He does nothing but let Danny kiss him, though, because if Danny's never done this before then Steve can't risk spooking him. No battle plan survives first contact, after all. While Danny seems keen now, he might change his mind if Steve reveals how desperately he wants – needs – this.

Danny pulls back, and suggests they find a more comfortable position. This would be the perfect chance to press Danny against the wall and show him who's boss, declares the little voice in Steve's head that's always calculating angles and tactics. It keeps him alive in firefights, but it has no place here and now.

Instead, he gets Danny settled comfortably on his lap. Steve ruthlessly suppresses the urge to tilt his hips up, to grind his cock against the erection so tantalizingly outlined behind Danny's zipper. He limits himself to pulling Danny close enough to embrace, and no closer.

This time the kiss is deeper, hotter, and Steve gives himself up to Danny all over again.

Steve could stay here forever, solid rock at his back, Danny's warm weight pinning him down. He feels grounded...no, anchored. It's unfamiliar, something he's gone his entire adult life without experiencing, but now Steve welcomes it.

The rain stops at last. Steve suggests that they start heading back down the mountain – if they leave now, they should complete their descent well before sunset.

Danny says he wants to spend the evening together, and God, Steve's mind fills with images that take his breath away. He has to remind himself that Danny's new to the whole gay sex thing, and that he can't push the boundaries too fast. Steve has waited nearly a year for this, never believing it would actually happen. So he can be as patient as Danny needs him to be.

But Steve is brought down to Earth abruptly, a moment later, when he remembers the last stop he'd planned to make today. He's pretty sure Danny won't be interested in visiting the grave of somebody he never met. Danny looks him in the eye, though, and says he'll come to the cemetery if that's what Steve wants.

And when Steve eventually asks, Danny says yes.