Untrue. It's not Steve losing his clothes, getting naked like clothes are some sort of inconvenience he's obliged to put up with throughout the day, just to be a part of society. It's Steve. The stretch, flex of his back. Heavy muscle on shoulder and chest. Lean and dangerous. Built like a freaking brick wall. Nothing Danny ever thought twice about before, but when added to Steve, the person, the thoughts and humor and loyalty and willpower and sudden brilliant smiles, it become irresistible.

Making Danny grin, as Steve's hand comes up to cup the back of his head. "Oh, yeah?"

Fingers tracing up sides, slipping around, finding the smooth curve of muscle, dipping in towards his spine. Leaning closer, voice low, chuckle following his sentence. "So you're doing it on purpose, huh?"

God. That tone. It's one of his favorites: sharp and edged and heating like there's a slow boil somewhere far beneath. Danny can feel the flush of blood lifting, over shoulders and chest, can see an answering flush starting along the curve of Steve's shoulder, the rise and shadow of collar bone. Hands sliding back towards his stomach, thumbs sliding under the waistband of cargo pants.

"Careful, Steven. That almost sounds like flirtation."