It's, seriously, like having a hand on the gearshift of a V6, or maybe like pulling the pin on a grenade. Definitely playing with fire, tugging at his collar, which started out as an innocuous, unconscious gesture that's suddenly clarified itself into heady immediacy with the way Steve's eyes drop to that spot and stick there, sending a knife-thin line of heat along his collarbone. Looking up, with an expression that makes Danny fear for his shirt, and also sort of wonder what he's gotten himself into, feeling like a pinned bug. Twitching legs knocking unrelated words and thoughts into his head, like the fact that Steve's eyes really look almost green, in this light, and that he needs to seriously brush up on his observational skills if he has been missing looks like this for the last year, it's embarrassing, is what it is.
The sudden motion next to them snaps some singing wire in his head, startles him out of his momentary brainfreeze, while Steve is already moving, catching the arm of a girl who is -- come on, no wonder she fell over, by rights her ankles should snap just under the pressure of trying to walk in those heels, right? Never mind when one of them catches on a barstool rung, unsurprisingly sending her into an undignified dive.
"Sorry," she gasps, pushing glossy brown hair back behind one ear, staring at the ground. She's got a pretty party skirt and top to go with the pretty, party, apparently lethal, heels, and long legs with a golden tan that definitely didn't come out of a bottle and a tiny tattoo on one ankle of two cresting waves, and he can actually pinpoint the second when she goes from being embarrassed about falling into Steve to being embarrassed and also pretty damn happy about falling into Steve.
She doesn't outright say the word jackpot, but he assumes it's implied in the way her eyes, big and blue and blinking a little dazedly, widen when she looks up at him.
Shoes like that should come with lessons. Or at least some sort of test, to make sure you have the ability to move around in them without haplessly almost killing yourself and interrupting the people next to you.
"Thank you," she's saying, lifting her other hand to balance herself against Steve's shoulder as she pushes back up onto the stool, and is it hot in here? The AC must have gone out, because Danny feels suddenly like his shirt is stifling. There is no need to linger that long, right? She's upright now, she can let go.
She does. Only to tuck back a few more shining curls, eyes never leaving Steve's face, a shy smile starting.
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The sudden motion next to them snaps some singing wire in his head, startles him out of his momentary brainfreeze, while Steve is already moving, catching the arm of a girl who is -- come on, no wonder she fell over, by rights her ankles should snap just under the pressure of trying to walk in those heels, right? Never mind when one of them catches on a barstool rung, unsurprisingly sending her into an undignified dive.
"Sorry," she gasps, pushing glossy brown hair back behind one ear, staring at the ground. She's got a pretty party skirt and top to go with the pretty, party, apparently lethal, heels, and long legs with a golden tan that definitely didn't come out of a bottle and a tiny tattoo on one ankle of two cresting waves, and he can actually pinpoint the second when she goes from being embarrassed about falling into Steve to being embarrassed and also pretty damn happy about falling into Steve.
She doesn't outright say the word jackpot, but he assumes it's implied in the way her eyes, big and blue and blinking a little dazedly, widen when she looks up at him.
Shoes like that should come with lessons. Or at least some sort of test, to make sure you have the ability to move around in them without haplessly almost killing yourself and interrupting the people next to you.
"Thank you," she's saying, lifting her other hand to balance herself against Steve's shoulder as she pushes back up onto the stool, and is it hot in here? The AC must have gone out, because Danny feels suddenly like his shirt is stifling. There is no need to linger that long, right? She's upright now, she can let go.
She does. Only to tuck back a few more shining curls, eyes never leaving Steve's face, a shy smile starting.
"God, that was almost so embarrassing."