Steve's not sure if it's the quip, the last word, or the laughter that starts as one and then filters into Danny's voice, in each of those words that makes the smile seared across his mouth broader. Almost more feral, kissing Danny again. Like it's the sudden swooping explosion of victory.

"You love it," is flash bright and rough, between kissing the point into him. Begging Danny to even pretend it isn't true.

That his fingers don't tighten, his heart rate doesn't increase, he didn't just groan like nothing on the planet existed that could stop this, and he isn't meeting every single kiss. Doesn't even fight Steve pushing him over, hand only shifting to let his thumb drag against the muscles of Danny's shoulder and near it once his back is on the bed.

Dragging his mouth, half ready and half like the whole concept of leaving where it is at all is insane beyond belief, away from Danny's. Weight shifting to the hand on the bed, keeping him half up, while the other splays across Danny's side, half over smooth skin and half over friction of curls, when he's leaning down.

Letting his mouth find the rise of Danny's collar bone, not all that far from the skin that shivered above the race of his heart.