dann_0 | PSL: Sentinel AU

Danny's thumb strokes Eliot's skin, warm and mesmerizing under his touch. And he wants to touch more, remembers touching more. But he makes himself pull the hand away. And it is a much harder struggle than it really should be. He just wants to be there, next to Eliot, touching him. Keeping him sane and safe. Instead, he reaches for a mug so he has something to keep himself occupied with.

"Do you want to be on your own? I won't lie, I don't want to leave you, but if it is what you want, I'll respect that. And I know Steve has his issues. I am trying to help him. If you decide you want me, I would like you to have a chat with him. He's only been out a couple of years. You might be able to help. Hell, you might be able to help more than I can."

It's almost more than Eliot can manage, not to follow after Danny when he pulls his hand away. But he clenches his hands tight on the counter for a moment, then makes himself depress the plunger in the french press and pour himself a mug before offering it to Danny. It gives him a moment to collect himself, and bite back on the bitter laugh that wants to escape at the question.

"Even if I wanted t'be alone-" And take that as you will, Danny- "... I'm not gonna be safe for much longer." He hasn't even said the words in his own head before this, carefully maneuvering around admitting the worst while steadily preparing for it. He doesn't like admitting it even now, but it doesn't feel like he has much choice anymore. "I've been slippin' already, but you-" He stops, jaw working. "This has blown my timeline t'hell."

Danny takes the coffee and pours a mug, adding milk but leaving the sugar out. But he freezes at Eliot's admission and suddenly he is filled with regret, he regrets coming here, coming after Eliot, meeting him, the ... not quite sex, all of it. He'd fucked up the balance Eliot had been trying to maintain.

He swallows, looking away. "I... I am sorry Eliot." He doesn't know what else to say, or how to make it better.

Eliot doesn't doctor his coffee at all, just takes a drink of the scalding hot liquid more for something to do than because he cares about it. "Like I said, this just sped up the timeline, didn't change the eventual outcome."

Danny looks at him and licks his lips. "And that is fucked no matter if I stay or go?" He sighs and sips his coffee. "As I said, it is your call but Steve and I want to help if we can. You need some time to think about it?"

And that's the thing, isn't it? The reason he's so twisted up about Danny leaving, because- "No." He shakes his head, and it's probably not clear which question he's answering, not even to him. But maybe it's both at once. "I'm fucked on my own." He closes his eyes but has to open them again immediately, because with them closed his senses zero in on Danny's heartbeat, his scent, focusing on his presence to the absolute exclusion of everything else.

"Shouldn't've been able to stay this sane for this long on my own as it is." He's not sure anyone ever has, and he's not always sure he's entirely sane, or entirely in control. There have been... incidents. Bodies he hadn't really meant to leave in their wake, even if maybe they'd deserved it, times he's pulled himself back from that edge with just a hair's breadth to spare. And longer and longer he spends hyper-focused on Hardison or Parker or the routine of the kitchen either to block out everything else in the world around him before it sweeps him under, or in a frantic effort to keep anchored to the world at all.

Danny sips his coffee and listens as Eliot speaks. "Will having me around once in a while but not all the time make it harder for you, now that the damage is already done?" He watches Eliot closely, feeling the tension lurking under the surface and he wants to reach out and pull Eliot close and make him forget about that again. He offers his hand to him.

"You did stay in control. That is a long time, you're stronger than you think."

"Don't know," he admits roughly, and puts the mug down because he needs something to do, something to distract him, and he's about to turn and start pulling ingredients from the fridge so he can at least cook something when Danny reaches out... and he can't resist. He curls his fingers around the smaller man's and pulls him close, because he can't just touch, apparently. He buries his nose in his hair and just breathes for a moment.

"Feel more grounded with you here than I have in years." And he's zoned more since meeting Danny than he has in years as well, but he knows a big part of that is just unexpectedly struggling to cope with how absolutely his focus zeroes in on Danny when he's around, and then trying to make his old coping mechanisms fit again when he's not. "Not sure how you not bein' round'll change that."

"Maybe I could leave some stuff here? Steve says it helps, the scent. Stuff that can help you stay grounded when I am in Hawaii." He slides his arm around Eliot and holds him firmly against him. "As I said, if we want to do this really our only option is to try things out. Maybe your crew could learn some tricks too. Chin and Kono... The two other members of the taskforce have learned some to help Steve when I'm not around."

"That... might help," he concedes. "Scent... scent's one of my biggest triggers, so that could... it could be good." It could maybe be enough, combined with phone calls. With visits... but those are what he's worried about, because without them it absolutely won't be, and there's only so much he can expect Danny to disrupt his life to help a stranger, no matter how strongly he claims to feel about it. "But me goin' t'Honolulu'd be a bad idea."

"Maybe there is somewhere else we could meet. Somewhere in the middle. Well not out in the ocean but.." Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Eliot, just leaning on him before he pulls back just enough to drink his coffee. "This is good coffee."

"Not much of a sailor, so yeah, maybe not there," he agrees, and it's not much, but his tone's lightened just a little with the joke, and when Danny pulls back he lets him go. Or, well, Eliot lets him have enough room to drink his coffee, anyway.

"Can figure somethin' out, though... if you're sure you wanna." Because he still can't make himself feel comfortable accepting that.

"Yeah, I am sure." He leans in to kiss Eliot's chest and the lick away the drop of coffee he left there. "I would want to even if I didn't get to do this. That's just a bonus." He smiles up at Eliot.

He leans his forehead at Eliot's shoulder again, just enjoying being close for a moment before his stomach decides to ruin the mood with grumbling.

When Eliot shivers in reaction he's not sure how much of it is to Danny's lips and tongue on his skin and how much of it to the absolute assurance of his answer. It feels like something he can believe, or at least something he wants to, no matter how hard over two decades of hard-learned paranoia is making it to accept.

He curls a hand at the nape of Danny's neck and stretches his thumb just far enough to rest over the steady throb of his pulse, matching the feel of it under Danny's skin to the sound he feels his own heart trying to sync up to. He's just using his thumb to tip Danny's head up, giving up any pretense of resistance as he ducks down to catch his lips again, when Danny's stomach decides to have his say, and Eliot stops with his lips a hair's breadth from Danny's, eyes wrinkling and lips twitching up with humor before he closes the distance for a soft, warm, almost chaste kiss.

"Guess I'm gonna hafta feed you before I can fuck you, huh?" he asks, breathing the words against Danny's lips.

Danny tips his head easily enough, enjoying the way Eliot takes control. He knows at some point he'll want talk to Eliot about it, figure out how far Eliot wants it to go. But right now he is just happy taking what he can get. He blushes a little at the sound, but it is quickly ignored as Eliot kisses him and he kisses back, sighing softly, contently into the kiss.

Then he chuckles at the words. "You don't have to but my stomach growling doesn't make for the best soundtrack." He steals another kiss. "You want help?"

Eliot likes how easily Danny moves into his touch, how soft and warm and responsive he is against him. It's just one more thing reeling him inexorably in, making it impossible to do anything but accept the impossible promises he seems to make as easily as breathing.

He considers the offer for a moment, something he wouldn't normally do, but if he can actually share a kitchen with the guy and not want to lobotomize him before they're done, well... it might not actually be a fair test, but he can't really afford to be fair right now. "Sure."

He ducks in for another kiss, slow and deep this time. "Should have everything I need for a risotto, how d'you feel 'bout choppin' some onions and mushrooms?"

Danny kisses back eagerly and then nods. "That I can do. How fine?" He does like helping out, he was raised helping out, learning his grandmother's recipes by heart. He might not be as good as Eliot, but he is far from bad. He looks around the kitchen and grabs an apron and puts it on before he hands another one to Eliot. It is easy making himself at home.

Once the ingredients are out he starts with the onion. He doesn't have the speed of a professionally trained chef but he does do a good job. Soon enough there is a consistent, fine dice on the onion as he moves it over into a bowl before he starts on the mushrooms. Those he keeps a little bigger, he is a fan of a little texture in his food after all.

"This reminds me of cooking for big family gatherings back in Jersey. My mom and grandmother bossing everyone around but also giving everyone a job to do."

For his part, Eliot pulls out arborio, chicken, asparagus, wine, and some stock he had in the freezer, the latter of which he sets in a pot on the stove to defrost. He might not live here, but he uses the place often enough (generally for one night stands) to keep it well stocked. He watches Danny work, but it doesn't take long to determine that he knows what he's doing well enough he doesn't need to be closely supervised, and gets on with his own preparations instead.

"Sounds like it was nice," he comments as he takes Danny's onions and adds them to the pot. Nice is probably an understatement, but completely alien is closer. He has a vague memory of his mother in the kitchen before she died, and there's a feeling of comfort and safety that goes with it, but he was over thirty before he ever found any comfort in a kitchen again. "Your family get together often?"

"Yeah, we're a close family. It's a little harder now, me being in Hawaii. But it was either that or not see Grace." He glances over at Eliot as he works. "Now it is mostly cooking for Steve and me and... well, there are a lot of late nights as cops. We end up going to Kamekona's a lot. He makes some strange dishes at times but his garlic shrimp is good. There are a bunch of other good places. I miss a good Italian place though."

He finishes the mushrooms and puts them in a separate bowl. He watches Eliot work, there is something fascinating about it that he loves.

"Got lots of good seafood there, though. Ain't the same as a really good pizza, or homemade tagliatelle, but it's gotta be some consolation, right?"

Eliot relaxes a lot when he cooks, and even with Danny's presence splitting his focus every movement is easy and precise, like something he's done so often and so well he could almost do it perfectly in his sleep. "Grate me some parmesan?" He nods to the block of reggiano he pulled from the fridge. "Graters in that cabinet there."

"Oh yeah there is plenty of good food, I am not saying that. It's just sometimes you miss the stuff you've grown up on. Or at least I do."

Danny nods at the order. "Yes, sir." He gives Eliot a little grin, testing the waters before he fetches the grater and starts grating the cheese. "You one of those people who believe there is a limit to how much cheese you should put in or should I just keep going until my arm hurts?"

"Yeah, I get that. Guess you just gotta make do when you go home." He got the chicken stock defrosted and gently simmering now, and starts adding it slowly to the rice.

"Don't call me sir, I work for a living," he answers almost by rote, but he meets Danny's grin with a small smile of his own. "Nah, a bit over a cup'll do it. You use too much an' it gets gluey."

He raises an eyebrow at Eliot's comment about working, but he doesn't say anything else right now. He doesn't want to scare Eliot off now that they've finally figured out they want to give it a try. He moves to grate the cheese and gives Eliot a smile. "When did you start cooking?"

He wants to learn more about the other man. More is an understatement. He wants to learn everything. What makes him smile or laugh, how to spoil him, everything. He breaks off a little bit of the cheese and offers it to Eliot to nibble on.

The comment itself doesn't have any great meaning, but never having been military, Danny might not recognize it as the noncom's standard answer to being sirred. For all that they both started military, Eliot had a very different career track to Steve, and even if he hadn't been burned and cut loose so long ago he likely never would have been an officer.

"Did a lot of the cookin' when I was a kid, but that was mostly boxed mixes an' processed crap." Which he hadn't liked even then, though he hadn't known it was because he could taste all the chemicals and preservatives. It had been what they could afford and what he could figure out with no real guidance, so it hadn't mattered. "Took home ec in high school, but that was more 'cause the teacher was hot than 'cause I cared." All of which is more than he's bothered to tell anyone before, even Hardison and Parker, but he has the same impulse Danny's feeling--he wants to know everything he can, and he wants to share his own life, within reason, in return.

"Didn't start cookin' proper 'til about eight years ago, when I ran across a guy runnin' a culinary school on the job an'-" He shrugs. "It just kinda clicked." He leans over to take the cheese from Danny's fingers, wrapping his lips around them then curling his tongue around them as he pulls away, eyes going dark again.

Edited 2017-05-11 19:02 (UTC)

Danny licks his lips and shifts. "Easy babe, don't want to get too worked up before we've eaten. Have to make sure to keep our strength after all. I got a feeling this will be a marathon, not a sprint." Not that Danny likes any kind of running.

"I've lived off that boxed crap, right after Rachel and I broke up and I was living in various hotels. Not much you can cook then. What kind of job did you do before this?"

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