Thanks to Sam for the beta. AU, explicit sex.

Haunted

By Raine Wynd

Steve McGarrett doesn't come home for his father's funeral. Thanks to the top-secret nature of his assignment, the notification of his father's death is delayed for almost four months, as is the news that his sister has been arrested and jailed for tampering with a smoke alarm on a plane, then arrested again as soon as she's released for minor possession of narcotics. The day he's discharged is the day the combined news gets to him, along with the more recent information that one Victor Hess was arrested for the murder of his father.

By the time Steve arrives at his family's home, it's to discover that it's been partially burned, is falling down, and is littered with gunfire. Crime scene tape still blocked off the entryways, and official notices warned of unsafe living conditions.

Resigned, Steve decided the only thing to do was find a halfway decent motel and start digging through the bureaucracy in the morning. He wasn't struggling, not yet, but if he didn't find work, living off his accumulated savings wasn't going to last more than a few months. He's surprised by the amount in his bank account; he had expected that between his inheritance and the money he hadn't spent by being in the sandbox that he would be better off than he was. By dinner time, he'd made headway on getting answers, and was celebrating his relative success with a drink in a bar up the street from the motel.

He notices the stocky, athletically built blond at the end of the bar only after realizing that someone's been staring at him. Habit has Steve noticing the lack of a tan, and the way the stranger's dressed makes the ex-soldier think 'office worker.' Steve knows he stands out, even in jeans and an old Navy t-shirt; the tattoos on his arms tend to draw attention, and the years he's spent in the military have left their stamp on him. "Problem?" Steve challenged lazily.

The blue-eyed stranger took a sip of his whisky, then smiled. Rising to his feet and revealing he was shorter than Steve by several inches, he closed the gap between them, seeming to move fluidly without causing a sound. "No," he said as he leaned over. "But if you want a solution, maybe you'll follow me."

Steve looks up and sees the frankly sexual interest in the other man's face. He debates it for half a second, then shrugs. It's not like he has anything else going on for the next hour.

"Depends," Steve says. He's pretty sure the other man's not a hooker – the tie and button down shirt doesn't fit his perception of a hooker, but it's been a while since he was Stateside, cruising for action. "You, uh, looking for a payment?"

The other man laughs shortly. "Aren't we all? But I'm not looking to sell, if that's what you're asking. Just thought you'd like a good time. Name's Danny."

"Steve," he responds, shaking hands. "Want to sit and talk some, or do you want to go elsewhere?"

In reply, Danny smiles broadly, and indicates the door with a jerk of his head. "We can talk on the way."

It doesn’t take long to get to Danny's room, but not before Steve finds out he's recently arrived from New Jersey. Danny's vague on what he does for a living, but seems to appreciate that Steve just got honorably discharged from the Navy. They disagree on football teams, but that's not surprising. What does surprise Steve, though, is the way he suddenly wants this relative stranger.

They don't kiss, which disappoints Steve immensely, but he's played this game before. Kissing was reserved for someone you knew well, not some random fuck, and he shoves the disappointment aside. Danny's quick to strip them both, maneuvering Steve so that he's standing against the foot of the bed.

"Jesus, you're tall," Danny complains, but he drops to his knees easily enough to take Steve's cock into his mouth without hesitation. He's obviously an expert, and his equally enthusiastic enjoyment of the experience sets Steve off before he's quite prepared for it. Danny swallows it all without complaint, then grins as Steve collapses weakly against the bed, barely managing to stay upright.

"Come here," Steve orders, pulling his new lover closer so he can return the favor. Danny goes willingly as Steve urges him to sit on the edge of the bed. Kneeling on the floor between Danny's legs, Steve does his best to give as good as he was given. His new lover urges him on vocally, adding to the bolt of pleasure shooting through him. It's not long before Steve realizes that Danny is holding off his orgasm. Steve ups the ante by pressing a finger against the big vein that runs down along Danny's balls and towards his asshole.

Danny groans. "Yeah, like that, hard." He continues to tell Steve what he wants until he comes.

They don't leave the room the rest of the night. In the morning, Steve wakes alone.

Shrugging, Steve goes to check with the desk clerk, in hopes of catching a name.

"Room 113," she says doubtfully. "No one was in room 113 last night."

"I was with a guy named Danny," Steve begins, and the desk clerk looks at him sadly.

"There was a cop from New Jersey named Danny staying here about six months ago, in room 113," she said. "He got into a fight with his ex-wife. She shot him in that room."

Abruptly chilled to the bone, Steve stared at her.

"People say he's been waiting for someone ever since, and that he only ever shows himself to guys named Steve or are ex-military." The clerk offered him a half-smile. "I think they were supposed to meet sooner."

The knowledge doesn't comfort Steve at all.

Finis 12-4-10
Comments welcome at my journal or AO3.