Steve's mouth lifted, smiling regardless of intent or thought to it, as Danny took it and ran with it. All those words pouring out, painting a picture Danny would certainly consider. Painting it into broader strokes he hadn't even considered, other people seeing Danny in this hilarious state at all time. Other people who, Steve was certain, would shake their head with him.
Though Kono would rag on him in a memorable fashion Steve would stand back and watch with unmitigated pleasure and no game plan on stopping her in the slightest. She would have done remarkably well in basic, in that respect. Kono could hold her own with just about anything when it came to that so far.
"If one of them blew up the car-" And he says, with the severity of being completely serious, without it touching the brightness of his eyes or the way this is still very much a part of this whole riff. "-the vest wouldn't help you."
There is a momentary very, very slight stiffen and swallow when Danny is gesturing to his throat, yanking at his collar, pulling the cloth tighter on his shoulders, accenting the space where the shirt is already unbutton, golden hair there at the edges. When Steve was rolling his eyes, but mostly martial his will to make it look simple, easy and blatantly, exasperatedly, amused when he's having to look the hell away from Danny's hand, throat, chest.
It really might not be working, though, when his eyes linger, against the skin flickering the beat of Danny's heart causing his own heart to pound harder in his chest, or was that his throat, before his eyes raised to Danny's. Words formed in his throat like stuck ice cubes, he was going to push out. Any second now. Barely enough time to catch the sudden tumble of fast movement to his other side.
The way he moved before quite catching what it was and snapped out an arm, catching his hand on the arm and side of what appeared to be the patron on the closest bar stool to him trying to come off of hers in the least likely way meant to do anything but accidentally face plant the ground.
no subject
Though Kono would rag on him in a memorable fashion Steve would stand back and watch with unmitigated pleasure and no game plan on stopping her in the slightest. She would have done remarkably well in basic, in that respect. Kono could hold her own with just about anything when it came to that so far.
"If one of them blew up the car-" And he says, with the severity of being completely serious, without it touching the brightness of his eyes or the way this is still very much a part of this whole riff. "-the vest wouldn't help you."
There is a momentary very, very slight stiffen and swallow when Danny is gesturing to his throat, yanking at his collar, pulling the cloth tighter on his shoulders, accenting the space where the shirt is already unbutton, golden hair there at the edges. When Steve was rolling his eyes, but mostly martial his will to make it look simple, easy and blatantly, exasperatedly, amused when he's having to look the hell away from Danny's hand, throat, chest.
It really might not be working, though, when his eyes linger, against the skin flickering the beat of Danny's heart causing his own heart to pound harder in his chest, or was that his throat, before his eyes raised to Danny's. Words formed in his throat like stuck ice cubes, he was going to push out. Any second now. Barely enough time to catch the sudden tumble of fast movement to his other side.
The way he moved before quite catching what it was and snapped out an arm, catching his hand on the arm and side of what appeared to be the patron on the closest bar stool to him trying to come off of hers in the least likely way meant to do anything but accidentally face plant the ground.