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With a huff of laughter, Steve's knees hit the edge of the mattress and he fell back onto the bed. It took a few seconds for the frame to stop rattling, and by the time the springs had settled Danny had already unclasped his belt and was halfway through unbuttoning his shirt.
He was pottering absentmindedly around the room as he did so - he was the only person Steve had ever met who undressed on the move, not content to stand still and get the job done in one economical action. Danny always got distracted half-way through; a newspaper headline would catch his eye and he'd read the article in his socks and shirt at the top of the stairs, or he'd stand in his suit-pants with his toothbrush chomped to one side as a lone fingertip pecked across the keyboard, tapping an email to his family.
"...seriously, Steve, the washing machine is broken. It is no more. It is an ex-washing machine - the Norwegian Blue of laundry appliances, if you will. It keeps vibrating like a jack-hammer all around the room, which, if we were women, might be something to explore, but hello, cocks all around. I know you don't want to admit defeat but we really need to buy a new one, and no, no, we are not calling those... what did you call them? Swicks? Those super snazzy warfare mechanics or something. Oh and another thing, hey, hi, hello, are you even listening to me..."
Words washing over him, Steve nodded his assent. "Take a breath, babe, course I am, course I am." Once he was satisfied that Danny was getting enough oxygen, he gave in to the urge to stretch. Clasping his fingers tightly, he arched his arms high above his head and canted his hips up off the mattress. He held the position for a few seconds, enjoying the pull of his muscles, before melting back down with a contented hum. "Special Warfare Combatant-Craft Crewmen. They maintain and operate a variety of specialized naval combat craft, I think they can handle our leaky washing machine."
Danny tutted, rolled his eyes, and picked up right where he left off. "Well, does the Navy do house-calls, or shall we just rock up to Pearl with it strapped down in the back of your truck, honestly, Steven, you are impossible..."
Comfortable and content, Steve slid a hand up under his shirt to idly scratch his belly. Watching Danny undress was one of the highlights of his day. There were the obvious reasons: impending Danny-shaped nakedness being at the top of the list. But there was something oddly warming about the knowledge that he'd seen it all a thousand times before; something soothing about resting his gaze on Danny as he traced well-worn routes around their room.
As if sensing that he was talking to himself, Danny came to stand at the foot of the bed. His shirt was long gone, but his pants were only half undone and hanging loosely from his hips, revealing a hint of dark green boxer briefs. Instead of looking impatient, his eyes were crinkled warmly, a startling blue picture of indulgent fondness. He quirked his lips into a gentle, slightly exasperated smile. "You're not listening to me. You know how I know you're not listening to me?"
Grinning lasciviously, Steve inched down the bed, spread his legs suggestively wide, and wrapped them around Danny's hips to secure him and bring him closer. "Gotcha. Now, how do you know I'm not listening to you?" He tried to project an air of innocence, but Danny's raised eyebrow told him he was fooling nobody. Foiled, he abandoned the ruse and instead smoothly slid a hand down into his jeans. He was immensely pleased when Danny's fingers fumbled at the buckle of his watch.
"I know," Danny said, as he finally managed to loosen the clasp. "I always know. I just used the words, cocks all around, and you didn't even blink." He flung the watch onto the mattress. "Now let me go, you caveman you, Kamekona's trying to fatten me up on garlic prawns. This mouth is not fit for company."
Sensing the hint of a challenge, Steve pushed himself up till he was perched on the edge of the bed. Despite his earlier protests, Danny eagerly met him half way and their lips brushed. Gentle, brief, almost absent-minded nipping slowly gave way to hot, deep, open mouthed kisses. It was a little clumsy - Danny was not used to leaning down and Steve was not used to stretching up, but they made it work.
Eager for more, Steve pulled away and began to scatter kisses across Danny's chest and belly, humming contently when compact fingers slid into his hair and began to scritch at the nape of his neck. He leaned back momentarily to slip his shirt up and off, threw it across the room, before resuming his trail of kisses along Danny's side. Without thinking, he unclasped his legs from around Danny and went to push himself back onto the bed properly.
Danny, now freed from the grip of Steve's thighs, sprang backwards. "Sweet freedom!" he announced triumphantly with a cackle. "I love you, babe, but no man stands between me and my toothbrush." With that, he stalked off towards the bathroom and half-shut the door.
Steve scowled. "And you say my priorities are weird."
He needed a new plan of attack, and one came to him quickly. With a dangerous smirk, he deftly flicked open the buttons of his fly, lifting his hips to shuck his jeans off. They were immediately kicked to the floor, and his socks soon followed suit. Thank goodness he hadn't started dating Danny whilst still on active duty, the man did terrible things to his organizational skills.
"Yeah, you're right," he falsely conceded as he scooted up the bed to half-prop himself against the headboard. "We'll get a new washing machine this weekend, okay?" He slid a hand down, down, down over his stomach, across the scruff of hair beneath his navel and finally, over the bulge in his briefs. He gave himself a quick, gentle squeeze before smoothing his fingertips over the line of his cock. Stick to the plan he reminded himself, even as he imagined the way Danny liked to kiss up his thighs and nuzzle his balls through the warm cotton. "Also, we need to review the new insurance policy estimates for the house."
From behind the partially closed bathroom door, Danny paused in his brushing. "Didn't we do that last week?"
Steve closed his eyes, felt his cock nudge against his hand as he palmed it firmly, mapped out the solid length of it with the pads of his fingers. "Nah, that was the policy for the cars. That's through work, though. The house is ours independently. I'll set up an appointment for Saturday?"
The tap swished on, and he heard Danny spit into the sink, completely oblivious. "Alright, sure, sounds good. Just let me know when."
Steve bit his bottom lip, took a deep breath as he gently tugged his cock up to rest it against the crease of his right hip. "Sure thing," he said with complete calm, even as warmth began to pool in his belly.
As Danny continued to potter around in the bathroom, Steve stroked and palmed and tugged at his cock until it was straining against his briefs. He was confident enough in his body, (and Danny's attraction to him), to admit that he presented a fairly pleasing sight.
The noises emanating from the bathroom indicated that his partner was about done, and in anticipation, Steve spread his legs, slid just that little bit further down the bed.
The door creaked open, and to Steve's immense delight Danny stopped still in the frame, one foot half off the ground. Their gazes caught and held, Steve stroking his cock as Danny watched him.
"Sneaky, sneaky," Danny accused, his cocky attitude not quite enough to cover the breathy quality to his voice. "Is there something I can help you with?"
Steve, finally, slid both hands beneath his briefs, lifted his hips up, and slipped the material down his legs. He flicked them off with a twist of his ankle. "No, no, I'm good, I've got my hands and you, well, you've got your toothbrush."
Danny, pants still hanging loosely from his hips, - honestly, Danny, you're hopeless - rolled his eyes and stalked forward. He stepped out of his chinos with uncharacteristic focus and knelt onto the bed with a predatory grin. Up, up, up he crawled, straddling Steve's hips with his warm thighs and knobbly knees. With a gentle rock, he settled down, Steve's cock nudging hopefully against his blonde belly-hair.
With a deep breath, Steve held his ground, absolutely did not rub his cock against the front of Danny's briefs. "Really, I'm good, all good here, thank you very much." In an effort not to touch Danny, he lifted his hands up to rest them beside his head on the pillow, palms open, the perfect picture of innocence.
This, was a mistake. Danny immediately leaned forward, arms outstretched to brace himself. He pressed his hands to Steve's and threaded their fingers together. "You sure?" he whispered into the silvery patch above Steve's ear. The further he leaned, the more delicious the press of Steve's cock against his skin. "Positive?"
Danny nuzzled his way along the curve of Steve's jaw, up over his cheek, to press their noses together. He ghosted his lips over Steve's, but just as Steve gave in, leaned up eagerly and angled his head for the kiss, Danny inched back. Steve's brow crinkled, a pout formed, and he leaned up even further, chasing Danny's lips. Danny scooted a little to the left, a little to the right, Steve's mouth always following hopefully but just a fraction too slow. After a few seconds of the chase, of their noses brushing but not their lips, Steve groaned and finally, finally, Danny relented with a soft laugh.
Steve had never known anybody as skilled as Danny, at kissing and grinning at the same time. "Smug is not a good colour on you, babe," he scolded, even as he unclasped his hands to slide them to the backs of Danny's thighs, digging his fingertips possessively into the muscle he found there.
Danny, busy as he was in kissing that delicate spot just beneath and behind Steve's ear, took a second to protest. "What are you talking about, I look great in smug. Smug is my natural colour. It doesn't get any better than this." With an eyebrow waggle, he leaned down for a kiss, warm and a little sloppy, tongues dancing a familiar dance. It was the work of but a moment for him to shimmy out of his own briefs, and finally they were pressed flush against each other.
For a few moments there was only the sound of hitched breathing, of wet lips meeting messily, of skin sliding against skin and the bed creaking as it rocked back and forth. There was the wooden swish of a drawer being pulled open and the plastic click of a cap being unsnapped.
Distracted but well-practiced, they both slicked up their fingers; Danny reaching down to gently stretch Steve, Steve reaching up to grip Danny's cock, smooth the warm gel from base to head. Arms and legs found their rightful place with familiar ease, and with a firm thrust, Danny buried himself tight inside. He held there for a moment, brow pressed to the warm curve of Steve's shoulder, enjoying the sensation and letting their bodies adjust.
When Steve cupped his ass, spread his fingers wide as if trying to press Danny even deeper into him, Danny finally began to move. He rocked his hips, tightening the muscles in the small of his back as he started sliding out and thrusting in.
He could feel Steve's body loosen a little around his cock; could feel Steve's hands slide up and down his back, fingers occasionally stuttering or digging desperately into the space between his shoulderblades. He could feel Steve shift beneath him as he arched his hips up, lifting his legs off the bed to press his heels against the backs of Danny's thighs.
Just as thought was almost entirely given away to touch... Steve's phone rang, and they both fumbled to a halt. With a disgruntled groan, Danny flopped down with little finesse, not particularly caring that he was a heavy weight as Steve reluctantly reached to inspect the screen.
"Merfl," Steve mumbled against his ear. "Mmmit's the 'countant, donworry, keepgoin’"
Danny, feeling a little annoyed with life, the universe and pretty much everything that wasn't Steve-shaped, pushed up with a grumble, sliding out of Steve with a not particularly sexy slippery noise. "Turn over. On your belly, come on."
As if sensing Danny's impatience, Steve rolled onto his tummy, spread his legs wide and tilted his ass up invitingly.
It was the work of but a second for Danny to crawl over him, press his chest flush against Steve’s back and push inside once more, his balls a heavy weight against the curve of Steve’s ass. He snapped his hips forward, pressing Steve into the mattress, and this time he set a much more insistent pace.
Steve’s fingers spread wide against the mattress, gripping the sheets tightly, and Danny absentmindedly covered one of Steve’s hands with one of his own, threading their fingers together as he buried himself over and over into Steve’s body. He closed his eyes, enjoying the way Steve wavered between arching up to meet him and pressing down, as if seeking friction against the rumpled linen of their bed.
Lost in sensation, Danny was momentarily startled when fingers slid into his hair, cupping the back of his head to rub gently; opening his eyes, he saw that Steve had reached back to touch him. All traces of exasperation regarding the phone call now long lost, Danny looked down to really take in the sight of his partner.
Steve had his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his head turned and cheek smushed rather unsexily against the pillow as he gasped and moaned. It was pretty much the most spectacularly hot thing Danny had ever seen, and he lost all control and rhythm as he thrust once, twice, three times, before spilling deeply into Steve with a groan.
He allowed himself a few seconds to luxuriate before instinctively responding to Steve’s throaty whine, sneaking a hand down to curl it around his partner's slippery cock. A few firm tugs and Steve spurted hot over his fingers; Danny kissed what he could reach of Steve's upper back, licked and nibbled across his shoulders and whispered calming words until Steve settled deeply into the mattress.
They lay there for a few moments, breathing deeply, until sleep began to curl at the edges of their bundle of warmth. With a soft sigh, Danny pulled out and flopped down beside Steve, a hand pressed possessively to his partner's back.
"Hhmmm," Steve mumbled, half asleep. His snoozy state rarely lasted long, however, and Danny's sudden bout of chuckles didn't help the matter. "What, what, why're you laughing at me?" Steve's eyebrows rose indignantly.
Danny grinned. "You have a pillow crease all the way down your cheek." He reached forward to gently trace a fingertip along the pink line, before beginning to smooth it away with his thumb.
Steve wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, well, you should see your hair. You look like some tiny woodland creature ran laps in it and then got an electric shock. I swear, your hair has never met a gravity field that it couldn't conquer."
Snorting, Danny curled around Steve's side, hitched a leg up and over to slide it between Steve's knees. "Go to sleep, goof, we've got to be up in way less hours than I would like, for work."
With a happy hum, Steve buried deeper into his pillow. Possibly the only thing better than watching Danny undress at night, was getting dressed alongside him in the morning.
"...and I was serious about the washing machine, babe."