The world is swaying. Soft. Lumbering. Slow. Warm. Heavy.
It's takes a little while, or at least it feels like a little while, to even begin to separate them out from a cocoon made all together of them, into disparate pieces. The rise and fall of Danny's chest, half under him. The in and out of his breath, hitting Steve's cheek. The gentle mingle of the waves and the breeze, the bushes and the trees.
The faint rumble of the air conditioner. That had nothing on the in and out of Danny's breath, and that solid thumping that it took Steve an extra second to figure out what was knocking up against his shoulder so specifically, patterned. Not an actual knocking. Not a code. Before oh, slid across his brain, tugging his mouth, slow and fuggy rueful.
Twitching his shoulder even when he doesn't give into the urge to slide his hands free from -- huh, Danny's hair, apparently -- to lay it over Danny's heart and listen to it even closer. Like maybe it actually is a code. Thundering against him. The exertion petering out slowly as the world grow dividing lines. Self and other. Him, and Danny.
Skin and smoke and sex and sweat. Warmth like sitting too close to a fire. But better.
Steve took a long breath in, without twisting to kiss Danny's temple, even though that thought rolled through like a boulder, stopping up his thick breath. Fingers moving just the smallest bit in his hair, finding his finger tips slowly, chin brushing Danny's shoulder as he argued a little too much with his head trying to come back. This was perfect. Who really wanted to.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2012-12-11 03:11 am (UTC)The world is swaying. Soft. Lumbering. Slow. Warm. Heavy.
It's takes a little while, or at least it feels like a little while, to even begin to separate them out from a cocoon made all together of them, into disparate pieces. The rise and fall of Danny's chest, half under him. The in and out of his breath, hitting Steve's cheek. The gentle mingle of the waves and the breeze, the bushes and the trees.
The faint rumble of the air conditioner. That had nothing on the in and out of Danny's breath, and that solid thumping that it took Steve an extra second to figure out what was knocking up against his shoulder so specifically, patterned. Not an actual knocking. Not a code. Before oh, slid across his brain, tugging his mouth, slow and fuggy rueful.
Twitching his shoulder even when he doesn't give into the urge to slide his hands free from -- huh, Danny's hair, apparently -- to lay it over Danny's heart and listen to it even closer. Like maybe it actually is a code. Thundering against him. The exertion petering out slowly as the world grow dividing lines. Self and other. Him, and Danny.
Skin and smoke and sex and sweat. Warmth like sitting too close to a fire. But better.
Steve took a long breath in, without twisting to kiss Danny's temple, even though that thought rolled through like a boulder, stopping up his thick breath. Fingers moving just the smallest bit in his hair, finding his finger tips slowly, chin brushing Danny's shoulder as he argued a little too much with his head trying to come back. This was perfect. Who really wanted to.