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helsinkibabyTitle: Storming Like Crazy
Author: helsinkibaby
Fandom: Hawaii 5-0
Pairing: Danny/Kono
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 392
Notes: Written very quickly for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
dannykono prompt table, which has "Raining on Sunday" by Keith Urban as one of the prompts. That was only ever going to end one way!
For all that there are many things that he misses about Jersey, there is one thing that Danny definitely doesn't, and that's the rain. Not a lot of rain in Hawaii, and even though Danny pretends otherwise sometimes, mostly to piss McGarrett off, there's something pretty sweet about perpetual sunshine and blue skies.
Of course, what they don't tell you back on the mainland is that when it rains in Hawaii, it really rains in Hawaii.
Like today. His only day off after the week from hell and rain is teeming down, lashing against the windows, heavy drops hopping off the ground. Probably just as well that he has nothing to do and nowhere to go, that Grace is on the Big Island for the weekend with Rachel and Step-Stan, living it up in some ritzy hotel that Danny couldn't afford in a million years.
All things considered, he should in no way be sitting in his house with a smile on his face.
But he is.
Because he's sitting up in bed, covers pooled around his lap, looking at Kono walking towards him. She's wearing nothing but his creased and rumpled shirt, buttons undone (missing? he's not sure), carrying a large plate of French toast. It goes with the orange juice that he'd brought in a couple of minutes earlier and when she sits down on the bed beside him, places the plate carefully in between them, when she leans in and presses a kiss to his lips, he can't stop smiling.
Not even when she pulls back and uses his momentary disorientation to snare the largest piece of French toast.
Because he's a gentleman, he doesn't call her on it, just like he doesn't chide her for stating the obvious when she looks out the window and says, "Boy, it's really coming down out there."
All he does is nod. "No surfing for you today," he observes and for a woman whose day isn't complete without getting out into the water she doesn't look the least bit put out.
Instead, she just shrugs. "Guess I'll have to find some other way to exercise then," she says, one fingertip tracing a path up his arm, across his chest, then lower. "Think you could help me with that?"
Danny's smile only grows wider along with hers. "I think I can manage that."
Author: helsinkibaby
Fandom: Hawaii 5-0
Pairing: Danny/Kono
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 392
Notes: Written very quickly for the
dannykono prompt table, which has "Raining on Sunday" by Keith Urban as one of the prompts. That was only ever going to end one way!For all that there are many things that he misses about Jersey, there is one thing that Danny definitely doesn't, and that's the rain. Not a lot of rain in Hawaii, and even though Danny pretends otherwise sometimes, mostly to piss McGarrett off, there's something pretty sweet about perpetual sunshine and blue skies.
Of course, what they don't tell you back on the mainland is that when it rains in Hawaii, it really rains in Hawaii.
Like today. His only day off after the week from hell and rain is teeming down, lashing against the windows, heavy drops hopping off the ground. Probably just as well that he has nothing to do and nowhere to go, that Grace is on the Big Island for the weekend with Rachel and Step-Stan, living it up in some ritzy hotel that Danny couldn't afford in a million years.
All things considered, he should in no way be sitting in his house with a smile on his face.
But he is.
Because he's sitting up in bed, covers pooled around his lap, looking at Kono walking towards him. She's wearing nothing but his creased and rumpled shirt, buttons undone (missing? he's not sure), carrying a large plate of French toast. It goes with the orange juice that he'd brought in a couple of minutes earlier and when she sits down on the bed beside him, places the plate carefully in between them, when she leans in and presses a kiss to his lips, he can't stop smiling.
Not even when she pulls back and uses his momentary disorientation to snare the largest piece of French toast.
Because he's a gentleman, he doesn't call her on it, just like he doesn't chide her for stating the obvious when she looks out the window and says, "Boy, it's really coming down out there."
All he does is nod. "No surfing for you today," he observes and for a woman whose day isn't complete without getting out into the water she doesn't look the least bit put out.
Instead, she just shrugs. "Guess I'll have to find some other way to exercise then," she says, one fingertip tracing a path up his arm, across his chest, then lower. "Think you could help me with that?"
Danny's smile only grows wider along with hers. "I think I can manage that."
