He's staring, hands paused in the air, while the only thing moving are his eyebrows as they arch up against his forehead, and he's asking, impatient.
"What does any of that have to do with me?"
Like he'd forced Steve out of there? Like him leaving had any effect on whether Steve did or not?
Sure. He would like to think so. They spend all day on the end of each others' tether, action and reaction. Drive to cases together. Investigate together. And, lately, find each other again after work, in the quieter hours, when the larger world of problems threatens to come crashing down on them both. They're a matched set, and, okay, sure, twist his arm, he'd admit that he would hope Steve would leave with him, rather than stay.
But that doesn't mean he has to. Danny saying he's done for the night doesn't need to mean Steve is, too. He could have gotten a ride from any one of those girls, or anyone else deciding to try their luck with him later on. There are such things as cabs that, astoundingly, will drive you places, in exchange for money.
It's like Steve just doesn't get it. The way he'd shined up, under the attention, and how crazy it made Danny just to see the way those girls looked at him, like he's a new pair of party shoes or a day at the beach. Like he's nothing more than a good time, when he is so much more than that, for himself. To Danny.
A thought he chokes down, cuffs to the ground, and tries to ignore, because the fact is that what Steve is to Danny is too much for him to look at, straight on, without panic striking deep and treacherous. A little like seeing a solar eclipse out of the corner of his eye.
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"What does any of that have to do with me?"
Like he'd forced Steve out of there? Like him leaving had any effect on whether Steve did or not?
Sure. He would like to think so. They spend all day on the end of each others' tether, action and reaction. Drive to cases together. Investigate together. And, lately, find each other again after work, in the quieter hours, when the larger world of problems threatens to come crashing down on them both. They're a matched set, and, okay, sure, twist his arm, he'd admit that he would hope Steve would leave with him, rather than stay.
But that doesn't mean he has to. Danny saying he's done for the night doesn't need to mean Steve is, too. He could have gotten a ride from any one of those girls, or anyone else deciding to try their luck with him later on. There are such things as cabs that, astoundingly, will drive you places, in exchange for money.
It's like Steve just doesn't get it. The way he'd shined up, under the attention, and how crazy it made Danny just to see the way those girls looked at him, like he's a new pair of party shoes or a day at the beach. Like he's nothing more than a good time, when he is so much more than that, for himself. To Danny.
A thought he chokes down, cuffs to the ground, and tries to ignore, because the fact is that what Steve is to Danny is too much for him to look at, straight on, without panic striking deep and treacherous. A little like seeing a solar eclipse out of the corner of his eye.