He tenses his jaw a little, muscles down down into his neck, as Danny's hand release. Trying to shove down the part of him that really doesn't want him to let go. That makes his arm twitch just a little at fighting back the impulse to let his hand fall from Danny's head, catch over Danny's own, keep it from moving, from letting go. When even if it hurts in some small amount, he knows it's real.
Could feel it so much nothing had distracted him from it, this, Danny. For a few minutes there.
When he barely lets his thumbs, shift a little in Danny's hair, watching the little movement of his eyes in the newly adjusted dark. Watches them cover his face. Hinge on his mouth, causing the same reaction, from Danny's own. Stil moving around. Wide, and not blue in the blackness. But they are. He knows. Light, electric. The too deep lines in Danny's forehead that mean he's still thinking too hard.
Which is as far as Steve gets before those words come tumbling out of that mouth. He can't even tell what the hell it is. That sudden bubble of shocking warmth popping into existence in the center of his chest. With a nearly painful pop. Shoving everything aside. When Danny sounds like those words are at once warning, demanding, sullen. All bleeding together.
When he can't help how it falls out, blithe and light, too warm, fingers spreading across his shirt, rather to keep him where he is. "So, you won't be in one, ever again, is what I'm hearing?"
As he didn't flirt with anyone earlier today. Hadn't even considered it except in certain seconds, before the continual disruptions and distractions. That if tonight were anything for Steve to judge this by, tonight -- hell, the last few weeks, months, years, aside from momentary appearances of Cath, even lesser blips of people that could remain forgotten -- there was only one person those words could mean Steve couldn't flirt with in a bar.
no subject
Could feel it so much nothing had distracted him from it, this, Danny. For a few minutes there.
When he barely lets his thumbs, shift a little in Danny's hair, watching the little movement of his eyes in the newly adjusted dark. Watches them cover his face. Hinge on his mouth, causing the same reaction, from Danny's own. Stil moving around. Wide, and not blue in the blackness. But they are. He knows. Light, electric. The too deep lines in Danny's forehead that mean he's still thinking too hard.
Which is as far as Steve gets before those words come tumbling out of that mouth. He can't even tell what the hell it is. That sudden bubble of shocking warmth popping into existence in the center of his chest. With a nearly painful pop. Shoving everything aside. When Danny sounds like those words are at once warning, demanding, sullen. All bleeding together.
When he can't help how it falls out, blithe and light, too warm, fingers spreading across his shirt, rather to keep him where he is. "So, you won't be in one, ever again, is what I'm hearing?"
As he didn't flirt with anyone earlier today. Hadn't even considered it except in certain seconds, before the continual disruptions and distractions. That if tonight were anything for Steve to judge this by, tonight -- hell, the last few weeks, months, years, aside from momentary appearances of Cath, even lesser blips of people that could remain forgotten -- there was only one person those words could mean Steve couldn't flirt with in a bar.