Summary: Steve calls Danny from a sperm bank. He needs a little help.
Rating: R for sex
Content: Humor/crack, no spoilers
Word count: ~1400
A/N: I started this a long time ago, but mmom (Merry Month of Masturbation) and delicatale's Phone-sex-a-thon encouraged me to dig it out and finish it. Thanks to thismuchmore, gryffindorj, and shes_gone for all of their help. ♥ All remaining mistakes are mine.
"Hey, uh, are you busy? I kind of need some help."
Danny recognizes that tone and is immediately on guard. There are levels to Steve's insanity, like the old security warning levels at the airport, except that Steve isn't color-coded. This sounds like "I blew up a national monument" with a side helping of "It's a good thing we both have health insurance, isn't it?" Steve had looked a little shifty earlier when he'd left for a meeting that he couldn't say anything about.
"You doin' the crossword again?" Danny asks. "I told you, tomorrow has two r's."
Steve doesn't reply to that, just lets out a shaky little breath, and Danny thinks, Oh, shit.
Chin and Kono are standing at the computer table looking over mugshots from a recent drug bust. Danny doesn't want to alarm them, so he steps out into the hallway. "What's goin' on?"
"Remember how I told you my friend Ron was trying to have a baby?"
Steve lets out an impatient sigh. "My friend Ron, from the SEALs. He and his wife were trying to have a baby. Remember, he called a few weeks ago when you were over at the house?"
"Oh," says Danny. "Right, yeah. What does this have to do with you?"
Steve sighs again. "Well, they can't conceive. Ron has a low sperm count or something. I...told them I'd help out."
"How could you possibly help with something like that?" Danny says, and then, "Oh, god."
"I couldn't say no, okay? He's been a friend of mine since the Academy. They've been trying to get pregnant for years."
"Why you?" says Danny. "Does your sperm swim faster than his? Did they do a timed drill? Is this another SEAL thing?"
"Danny, shut up," says Steve, sounding legitimately irritated. "I told them I would do it, okay? I promised. Now can you just..." He releases another breath right into the phone. "I just need some help."
"How am I supposed to help with this?"
Danny hears Steve moistening his lips. "Don't freak out, okay, but I just...I can't do this here. It's cold and it smells like disinfectant. They gave me this magazine but--"
"Whoa whoa whoa!" Danny exclaims, nearly dropping the phone, and Chin and Kono turn to look at him from the other room. Danny waves them off and ducks into his office. "Are you asking me what I think you're asking me?"
Steve pauses. "Probably. What do you think I'm asking you?"
"I think you're asking me to talk dirty to you so you can jizz into a plastic cup!" Danny hisses, and fuck, that shouldn't sound as hot as it definitely does. "Why didn't you call Catherine or something? She never seems to mind using our tax payers' dollars to do you favors."
"I think that would be really inappropriate."
"Oh, but it's not inappropriate to ask me?"
"You're my...friend. My partner." He pauses. "I didn't know who else to call."
He sounds so pathetic that Danny almost feels sorry for him. Almost. "I'm at HQ," he says, gesturing into the air. "You know, surrounded by the people we work with."
"Can you go into your office?"
Danny sighs and closes his door, locking it behind him and closing the blinds so that he doesn't have an audience. "Okay, I'm..." He takes a seat behind his desk and smooths out his tie, then reminds himself that this isn't actually a date. He clears his throat. "Okay."
"Okay," says Steve, and there's a rustle of clothing. "I'm ready."
"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," says Danny, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I mean, I actually haven't agreed to this, you know."
"Come on, Danny. It'll just take a few minutes."
"It'll just take--jesus, you make all your phone sex buddies feel this cheap? I'm not your personal fluffer, okay--"
"--I am a police officer. I get paid to shoot people, not to help you jerk off. In fact, if I'm going to do this, I get something in return."
"Like what?" says Steve, bewildered.
"Like..." Danny looks around his office, then down at himself. "Like, you have to wear a tie every day for a week."
"That's my offer," says Danny. "A tie and button-down shirt every day this week. Take it or leave it."
"I don't even own that many ties."
"So wear the same one every day, I don't care."
Danny can practically hear Steve frowning at him. "Why do you want me to wear a tie?"
"Why do you think, jackass? So I can tie you up with it."
There's a pause, and then Steve says, "Really?"
"Yeah," says Danny. "I'll tie you to my desk so you can't move. Or maybe I'll gag you with it so I don't have to listen to you all day."
Steve bites off a groan, and there's the tell-tale hitch in his breath. Danny freezes.
"Holy shit, are you--"
"You're going to gag me with it?" Steve asks breathlessly.
"What--" Danny sputters. "No! I'm not going to do anything to you!"
"God, Danny, that's so hot. Are you gonna bend me over your desk--"
"No, there was no bending!" says Danny. "No one bending anyone over anything! Just you, tied to the desk so that you can't go anywhere."
"With one of your ties." Steve sucks in another breath, and Danny can hear the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. "The blue one with the--fuck--with the red stripes."
"Oh my god," says Danny.
Steve groans when he comes, loud and obscene, and Danny picks a spot on the ceiling and stares at it until he's done.
"Wow," says Steve, trying to catch his breath. "That was..."
"Yeah, wow," says Danny. "What the fuck is the matter with you?"
"What?" says Steve. "I was just following your lead--oh. Oh shit, I have a problem."
"You have lots of problems."
"I missed the cup," Steve says miserably.
"I'm sorry, you what?"
"The cup! I got distracted and I missed."
"You have got to be kidding me."
"I didn't mean to."
"You had sex with me over the phone and then you got distracted and missed the cup."
"Well, to be fair, you weren't really helping. I kind of did all the heavy lifting back there."
"What do you mean I didn't help? You came all over my favorite tie!"
"I'll pay your dry cleaning bill," Steve snaps. "Can you come over to the clinic? It's right down the street, next to that Thai place."
"Come over there and do what, bring you carpet cleaner? No, I have work--"
"No, I have to do this again," Steve says impatiently. "I can't go back there with an empty cup."
"So scrape it off the floor."
"That's disgusting," says Steve. "Who knows what's even been on that floor."
"I'm not coming down there to jerk you off."
"Just for a few minutes. You don't even have to do anything, just--"
"Oh, so I should just drop off one of my ties at the front desk?"
"That's not what I meant," says Steve, frustrated. "I just meant you could, you know, sit in here with me. For support."
"I could just sit there and watch you jerk off?" says Danny.
"Well...yeah." Steve pauses. "You don't sound completely turned off by the idea."
"Whoops, I can't hear you, I think my battery is dying."
"Listen, pretend like this is just...a routine back-up call."
"Oh, a back-up call!" says Danny. "Well, when you put it that way, I'll be right over."
"Danny," says Steve, a little broken, and okay, maybe Steve has a tie kink that Danny didn't want to know about, but there's something about his voice when it's pitched low like that and suddenly Danny feels like his spine is going to melt.
"Two weeks," says Danny, clearing his throat.
"Two weeks with the tie and button-down shirt," says Danny. "And you're not allowed to go anywhere near my desk. I'll be there in ten minutes."
Other H50 fic here.