"No. No. No way."
It's clearly meant to be pacifying and Danny turns to Steve, staring at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious."
"Why? It's perfect in every way!"
Danny splutters, waving his arms at the bedroom windows. "Perfect? This is what you call perfect? These are pineapples! With hearts for eyes!!"
"They are just curtains, Danny."
"Just… just curtains? They are everywhere!! Looking at me!"
"No, the ones over there have their eyes closed," Steve points out reasonably, indicating the shower curtain visible through the open bathroom door.
"It's not… that doesn't make it any better!!"
"You do realize curtains can be changed, Danny, right?"
Danny considers this for a moment. "I'm a detective, Steve, not a decorator," he huffs before walking into the small sitting room, Steve hard on his heels.
More pineapples. More fucking pineapples.
Steve stifles a snort. Danny levels him with an accusatory glare. Steve raises his hands, half in defense, half in resignation. "It's clean, it's cheap, Gracie will have her own room. Everything about it is perfect, Danny. Everything but one tiny little detail which can easily be dealt with. Take it."
"Tiny detail?? They are everywhere! I'll have nightmares. They'll give Gracie nightmares!"
"Take it, Danny."
"They'll try to convince me they belong on pizza. In my sleep they'll try to convince me."
"Danny, take it."
"That's what you want, right? That's your plan. It's a scheme to drag me over to the Dark Side of pineapple pizza."
"Pineapple pizza is the Dark Side." Despite the exasperated tone, there's a twitch to the corner of Steve's mouth that Danny doesn't quite miss. Before he can start to explain what the overabundance of smiling pineapples on every clothy surface in the apartment will do to poor Grace's psyche, though, Steve has him by the upper arm and drags him… not all the way to the Dark Side, maybe, but out to his truck which, considering the fantasies Danny has had about the things he'd like to do to Steve inside it, is more than halfway there.
"He'll take it!" Steve calls out to the landlady, a friend of a friend of Kamekona's.
Danny digs in his heels. "I won't!"
"You will." A little push, and Danny all but stumbles into the truck's passenger seat. Not that it's in any way possible to accidentally “stumble” into a Silverado. But. Well. He's not quite ready yet to concede defeat and admit he's going voluntarily.
"He will!" Steve calls again, before sliding into the driver's seat and starting the engine. Danny watches him out of the corner of his eye as he pulls out of the driveway and heads north without another word.
The silence stretches.
Not for long.
"Where are you taking me?"
"To buy you curtains, of course."
Danny shuts his mouth with a click.
"What am I doing in a Sears, Steve? How do you know how to get to a Sears? Why do you even have a Sears on this island of yours?" Danny almost has to jog to keep up with Steve, who's striding through the aisles like a man on a mission, turning heads in the sparsely populated department store. They bring down the average age in the place considerably.
"Danny?" Steve has unerringly found the correct aisle and stops so abruptly Danny walks straight into him.
"What kind of curtains do they have in New Jersey?"
"New Jersey curtains, Danny. I'm gonna buy you freaking New Jersey curtains and you're gonna rent that freaking apartment because I don't want to see you in that dump for even one more day."
It shuts Danny up very effectively.
Steve starts browsing the samples.
Danny watches dumbly.
"This?" Steve asks, holding out a tartan pattern.
Danny just looks at him.
Steve shrugs, lets the cloth go. Selects another instead, in brightly contrasting colors. "This one? Matches your socks?"
"No? Okay." He efficiently flicks through the hangers. "This?"
"What the… I'm not getting camo curtains, you Neanderthal!"
Steve grins, obviously encouraged by the reaction he's managed to generate.
And then Danny's breath catches. Because what Steve is presenting him with now is a beautiful pattern in flowy pale blues. "Oh."
Steve's grin broadens. "That's decided, then. I think we need about a mile."
Danny grabs his wrist, stopping him from beelining it to the counter, and gets a good look at the price tag. "No way, Steve."
Steve sighs. "Don't worry about it, Danny."
"Yeah, but see, that's exactly what I'm doing. Worrying about it. I can't let you buy me curtains. What the hell would that say about me?"
"That you have a boyfriend with good taste." An old lady with a wheeled walker stops next to them and pats Steve's arm. "They are beautiful, dear." Looks at Danny. "Stop making a fuss, he knows what he's doing."
They both gape after her as she slowly pushes her walker around the corner. Turn to each other.
Danny raises a warning finger.
Steve smirks harder.
Danny rolls his eyes. "Okay. Okay good. I'll take the apartment, pineapples and all. Because you're right, Gracie needs her own room. But I can't see a single reason why I should let you buy me curtains!"
"Because I have the money to do it?"
Danny snorts derisively and turns to walk away.
"Because I want to!"
It makes Danny stop at the end of the aisle. "That's actually very sweet of you, Steve, but not really a reason."
Steve catches up with him, cloth sample still in his hands. "Why do I even need a reason?"
"Because… because you don't just go around buying curtains with your friends. For your friends!" Doesn't Steve see how weird it all is? "And you can't just buy me something this expensive for no reason at all. It's wrong!"
Steve bites his lower lip. Then his face lights up.
"I've thought of something!"
"Have you now."
"Yep. And it's a purely egotistical reason!" Steve smirks.
"Oh yeah?" Gosh, Danny just can't with this man. "Out with it, then."
"I want to be able to visit you and Grace."
"And you can't do that if I have pineapple curtains because…?"
"They are atrocious."
Danny snorts. "Oh, suddenly they are?"
Steve just smiles. Danny shakes his head. Feels an answering smile tugging at his lips.
"Okay. Let me get this straight," Danny clarifies, earnestly now. "If I let you buy me those curtains, you'll come over sometimes."
"Absolutely." Steve nods.
"Let me cook for you."
"Definitely, yeah. Often. As often as you like."
Danny hesitates. Looks at Steve. Takes the plunge.
“…And maybe even stay over, every once in a while?" His voice is wavering slightly. It makes his meaning clear.
"Yes.” Steve beams. Reconsiders. “That is… if you’ll let me? If you want me to?"
In place of a reply, Danny grabs Steve by the front of his t-shirt and tows him towards the counter.
"What are you waiting for? Let's buy some curtains, Steven!"