Tugging, hand moving from Steve's arm to the front of his shirt, like he's allowed, like it's his, fisting wrinkles into it as he gets right up into Steve's space, everything boiling over: the girls, the court case, Doris, the look on Steve's face every time he steps into this house, these days. Tipping his head back and eying Steve with every inch of Jersey attitude he can dredge up from the bottom.
"You pretend whatever you want, but I am not sorry, okay, do you have any idea what a strain it is to try and be decently polite to some random girl who's undressing you with her eyes?" His free hand goes to his temple, explodes outward. "I thought my brain was going to melt out of my ears. I would never hit a woman, but I tell you I was seriously wishing there were at least one trap door in the place. And you."
Shaking the hand caught in his shirt, and he's looking up at Steve, sure, but he never feels short doing this, pulls himself up with a mix of righteous anger and jealousy. His hands want to sneak up past the hem of that shirt, cover Steve's skin, wipe away any other memory of any other touch, and just the thought makes hims flare up again, a rush of heat pounding at the back of his neck.
No one is allowed to touch Steve. He takes it back, no one should look at him like they think they've got a chance, no one should flirt with him, and Danny can't do a damn thing about it out there, but here, here, is different.
"Nowhere. You think you're getting off that easy?"
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2012-12-02 05:25 am (UTC)Tugging, hand moving from Steve's arm to the front of his shirt, like he's allowed, like it's his, fisting wrinkles into it as he gets right up into Steve's space, everything boiling over: the girls, the court case, Doris, the look on Steve's face every time he steps into this house, these days. Tipping his head back and eying Steve with every inch of Jersey attitude he can dredge up from the bottom.
"You pretend whatever you want, but I am not sorry, okay, do you have any idea what a strain it is to try and be decently polite to some random girl who's undressing you with her eyes?" His free hand goes to his temple, explodes outward. "I thought my brain was going to melt out of my ears. I would never hit a woman, but I tell you I was seriously wishing there were at least one trap door in the place. And you."
Shaking the hand caught in his shirt, and he's looking up at Steve, sure, but he never feels short doing this, pulls himself up with a mix of righteous anger and jealousy. His hands want to sneak up past the hem of that shirt, cover Steve's skin, wipe away any other memory of any other touch, and just the thought makes hims flare up again, a rush of heat pounding at the back of his neck.
No one is allowed to touch Steve. He takes it back, no one should look at him like they think they've got a chance, no one should flirt with him, and Danny can't do a damn thing about it out there, but here, here, is different.
"Nowhere. You think you're getting off that easy?"