"Shut up," he says, automatically, mouth running on autopilot while the rest of his body goes into mild shock at the glance Steve gives him.
Unfair. Stupid, stupid -- this is ridiculous, why is he even still here? Why stick around and watch Steve light up under the attention of some random stranger?
Why pretend to himself he even has the ability to pull away, huh? So who's the idiot, now? "What you put up with? I could do a rundown for you, of the stresses you have added to my life, but I think we'd run over closing time before I even got to the halfway point."
Easily. Particularly tonight, when he can think of a good ten, twelve, twenty, hundred other things. Like the way Lani, far from getting annoyed that her ass is being handed to her, smiles like this was her plan all along. Like the way his knuckles, when he looks down at them, are white against the brown glass of his beer bottle, hand doing its best to crush the thing. Like that pause she takes, head tipping slightly to the side, filling the air with promises that make Danny want to swat at them like mosquitoes, while it feels like he's breathing lead.
And there are so many things he could say. He doesn't even disagree. But "You have no idea," half grumbled into his beer bottle is the best he can do, feeling sick and annoyed and wishing they would at least put the Series on, or something, so he'd have something to watch other than...this. Flirtation. Whatever it is. Something like a bucket of cold water he can stick his head into, before it, like his bottle, threatens to just shatter.
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Unfair. Stupid, stupid -- this is ridiculous, why is he even still here? Why stick around and watch Steve light up under the attention of some random stranger?
Why pretend to himself he even has the ability to pull away, huh? So who's the idiot, now? "What you put up with? I could do a rundown for you, of the stresses you have added to my life, but I think we'd run over closing time before I even got to the halfway point."
Easily. Particularly tonight, when he can think of a good ten, twelve, twenty, hundred other things. Like the way Lani, far from getting annoyed that her ass is being handed to her, smiles like this was her plan all along. Like the way his knuckles, when he looks down at them, are white against the brown glass of his beer bottle, hand doing its best to crush the thing. Like that pause she takes, head tipping slightly to the side, filling the air with promises that make Danny want to swat at them like mosquitoes, while it feels like he's breathing lead.
And there are so many things he could say. He doesn't even disagree. But "You have no idea," half grumbled into his beer bottle is the best he can do, feeling sick and annoyed and wishing they would at least put the Series on, or something, so he'd have something to watch other than...this. Flirtation. Whatever it is. Something like a bucket of cold water he can stick his head into, before it, like his bottle, threatens to just shatter.