Steve doesn't really think the number in here would contest much, given places they both had guns or very dead bodies appear before. In far higher numbers of people and far classier situations, both. If considering the odds, if was still nice. Relaxing, chilling back against the bar, a beer in his hand, Danny's voice running along different scales of amused, even when it was argumentative or pointed.
It's something about that. All the things that slide in and out from his thoughts, like waves gentle and peaceful for once. Even in the subject aren't all. That makes some of this easier to sink into. Toward. It might not be relaxing per say. But it was better than feeling like he was sitting in quick sand, counting the sand and the time passing while it slowly drug him into itself again.
"You could pre-empt it and wear the tac gear every time you aren't sleeping." Yeah. He's nowhere near serious, but he was tipping his head, eyes canted to be glancing toward the ceiling like he might be considering it. Seriously considering it. Up there with the grenades that loitered frequently in the glovebox because even the trunk was too far away for them.
Which isn't really a consideration. Steve would spend too much of his time having to get Danny out of it. Not that he was against the notion itself. But Steve would be hard pressed not to miss the way his shirts clung. Something he'd had an appreciation for before, but lately it seemed to be something that stuck out. How far they pushed up, where they strained at the sides when he turned to look at someone.
The lines of muscles he could picture perfectly sculpting themselves in cloth. Which he's not going to look over at.
He's going to take a drink of his beer, and add, smartly flip. "Maybe they have one you can put a clip on tie, too, somewhere."
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2012-11-24 09:12 pm (UTC)It's something about that. All the things that slide in and out from his thoughts, like waves gentle and peaceful for once. Even in the subject aren't all. That makes some of this easier to sink into. Toward. It might not be relaxing per say. But it was better than feeling like he was sitting in quick sand, counting the sand and the time passing while it slowly drug him into itself again.
"You could pre-empt it and wear the tac gear every time you aren't sleeping." Yeah. He's nowhere near serious, but he was tipping his head, eyes canted to be glancing toward the ceiling like he might be considering it. Seriously considering it. Up there with the grenades that loitered frequently in the glovebox because even the trunk was too far away for them.
Which isn't really a consideration. Steve would spend too much of his time having to get Danny out of it. Not that he was against the notion itself. But Steve would be hard pressed not to miss the way his shirts clung. Something he'd had an appreciation for before, but lately it seemed to be something that stuck out. How far they pushed up, where they strained at the sides when he turned to look at someone.
The lines of muscles he could picture perfectly sculpting themselves in cloth. Which he's not going to look over at.
He's going to take a drink of his beer, and add, smartly flip. "Maybe they have one you can put a clip on tie, too, somewhere."