fandomhigh | Ungulate Yoga, Tuesday, period 1

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yoga

Ungulate Yoga, Tuesday, period 1

After spending pretty much all day yesterday in bed, after getting back from Ibiza, Duke was looking forward to a nice, ordinary day. Or, you know, as close to one as you could get in Fandom. So when he saw the zebras hanging out in the clearing for class, he didn't even blink.

"At least you all have hooves. Just try not to trample my students, alright?"

The zebras grazed idly, ignoring him.

"Let's get right to warming up please," Duke said when the students arrived. "Today we're going to try out some bound poses." He very specifically did not look at Danny ~~if he was there~~ when he said that. "A bound pose is any pose where your hands are connected, and you twist through your shoulders and torso. They require a fair amount of flexibility, so I don't want to see anyone pushing themselves too hard, here. You need a prop, you use it. I've got pillows, bolsters, blocks and straps up here. Remember: a good stretch means no sharp pains. If it hurts, stop."

One of the zebras came over to try to eat Duke's hair. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Also there are zebras. So . . . yeah."

At least he wasn't stoned this week.

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"Yes, they do," Danny granted him. "And I'm prepared for that. Doesn't mean I have to like it. Because I have these things called human emotions. What? You think these things just get shrugged off as no big deal because you walked away from it?"

Did he look like a Navy SEAL who was made of repression and guilt? No. No, he did not.

“. . . Yes, actually.”

This was what proper mother issues did to you, Danny. ~~Destroyed your emotional intelligence~~ Made you tough.

"Oh god, you're like a hippie McGarrett without the hard-on for explosives," Danny said with a look of absolute horror.

"I am not a hippie." He was just a long haired white Buddhist who did yoga! "Am I supposed to know who McGarrett is?"

Damn. Dirty. Hippie. Jimmy Buffet was on his show, Duke. Just accept this assessment.

"My partner. Who, by the way, is a moron. So how about you do a little better than him, huh?"

Even though the mom thing was just... jarringly similar.

~~And Duke had sung Jimmy Buffet to his girlfriend to calm her down after a nightmare!~~

Don't worry, Danny, Duke would have jarringly similar trauma to yours eventually, too. Like a hedge fund manager brother who got into deep shit and had to be dealt with!

. . . Duke's would end up being a serial killer that Duke would have to kill in self defense, but still!

"By . . . crying over someone pointing a gun at me? Fuck, I'd never get anything else done."

Dane Cook would continue to fuck Danny and his family over for so many seasons after his peaced out. It was horrible.

"Do I look like I'm crying?" Danny asked, pure Jersey attitude. "No. But I'm not pretending it's all good either."

"So enlighten me, Detective Williams. What are you doing? Other than getting pissed at the victim of a violent crime?"

"Oh now you're a victim," Danny replied dryly. "Gettin' some mixed signals here, Crocker. I get that you don't like me, okay? I'm still checking in."

"Yeah, gosh, I wonder why I don't like you." Duke shook his head. "You have checked in. You can check that off your 'I'm a good guy' list. Might I suggest that next you try learning the inherent sarcasm in the word 'peachy'."

"Oh, you think this is performative? If that was the case, I would have way less stress," Danny shot back. "And I know 'peachy' is just a step above 'bleeding out in a ditch somewhere', trust me. It's also some bullshit deflection."

"What do you want from me here, man? Because if you're looking to save me with the power of hugs, someone already beat you to it. And lo and behold, it didn't work."

It had worked. It just wasn't a cure. If Duke had more practice, he might know that.

Magnus had magical hugs. It was true.

"Honesty would be great," Danny suggested. "Maybe some therapy."

Danny. Danny, that didn't work on Steve. It wasn't going to work here.

"You want honesty?" Duke sighed. "I spent the weekend in Ibiza getting drunk and not sleeping." And getting an awesome shark tattoo! Woo! "What the hell is telling you that supposed to do for me?"

"Well, sharing that sort of thing is cathartic," Danny replied, spreading his hands out like he was presenting his case. "I mean. Ibiza? Seriously? Couldn't you be a normal human being and go to Vegas or something?"

Danny was not allowed in Vegas because of a movie series.

"Vegas and Ibiza are two very different cities, man. I was looking to get wasted, no broke."

"Potato, tomato," Danny replied.

At least it wasn't Atlantic City.

". . . Yes. Those are also two very different things. Good job."

Danny politely flipped him off. "But seriously. Talk to someone. Drinking yourself dumb works for... about a week."

And hey, look at that!

"Ah! Not if you keep drinking."

He was kidding. Mostly.

"Your concern has been noted, Detective. It's very touching, I assure you."

Don't make him rant at you, Duke. He'd do it.

"Uh huh."

Why not? That sounded entertaining.

"You're really not going to let this go, are you."

Danny made a face, wobbling his head from side to side like he was considering it. "Not really, no."

Because he was the mom friend. He was the biggest mom friend. Even if they weren't, in fact, friends.

See, and that was very weird to Duke. Even his actual friends didn't push this hard.

"Man, why do you even care? You don't like me, either."

"Because I am an empathetic person," Danny replied. Which was half the reason, sure.

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