That Steve continues to hold still has less to do with Campbell's continued presence against his side now, that is actually beginning to grate in a fashion that isn't going to be good for the continual existence of him having a hand or an arm, but what is happening to his own other arm. As Danny suddenly decides to invade his space the way he always does, but in a way he's, also, never done before.
Danny's always in his space. Danny is always waving his hands, and leaning all over him, using him as a physical prop, in fashions Steve has become so accustom to he doesn't even give it a glance sometimes on the job. Because it won't get in the way and it is just Danny being Danny. Even if it's not something anyone else, even Cath, would ever have done. So it's not the first part that gets to Steve so much.
The finger dragging down his sleeve, even as Danny stares at it. Playing his part well.
It's when his hand rumples the bottom of Steve's jacket, threading through his belt loop and tugging barely. That's when Steve doesn't take a breath in, and other parts of him that shouldn't tighten in his chest, inside his head.
He wants to make a joke about whether these are what Danny's moves actually look like, voice absolute mockery, to break the tension pushing up his spine, but riding the high line edge of a blade on not wanting to know, but wanting to keep push it, seeing how far he can push, what he might get, Danny might do, while he really shouldn't. He should be pulling back, but he isn't. Can't. Too. It wouldn't fit here unless he was rebuffing Danny and it wouldn't fit the cover already in place. (Plus, he's a fucking hypocrite. Because he knows that isn't why at all, too. But it's convenient, and it's necessary, too.)
"Yeah. Maybe. Why should you get anything for free?" That Campbell hadn't, was implied.
Because at least one of them was putting in some kind of effort. (One of them actually wanted something from him.)
"Sir, your drinks." A voice interrupted entirely, again.
Making Steve look back to the bar and realized the same second that hand had come off of him somewhere in the last short while. He should have noticed. He should have been watching. Red wine glasses on the counter. Bartender who, with the air of someone who was very used to not seeing and no judging whatever was in front of him, even three men seconds ago in a strange tangle, was studiously looking at nothing but the man who ordered.
Campbell straightening his cuffs while he barked, clear and calmly, "They won't be needed anymore."
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2015-10-04 05:36 am (UTC)That Steve continues to hold still has less to do with Campbell's continued presence against his side now, that is actually beginning to grate in a fashion that isn't going to be good for the continual existence of him having a hand or an arm, but what is happening to his own other arm. As Danny suddenly decides to invade his space the way he always does, but in a way he's, also, never done before.
Danny's always in his space. Danny is always waving his hands, and leaning all over him, using him as a physical prop, in fashions Steve has become so accustom to he doesn't even give it a glance sometimes on the job. Because it won't get in the way and it is just Danny being Danny. Even if it's not something anyone else, even Cath, would ever have done. So it's not the first part that gets to Steve so much.
The finger dragging down his sleeve, even as Danny stares at it. Playing his part well.
It's when his hand rumples the bottom of Steve's jacket, threading through his belt loop and tugging barely.
That's when Steve doesn't take a breath in, and other parts of him that shouldn't tighten in his chest, inside his head.
He wants to make a joke about whether these are what Danny's moves actually look like, voice absolute mockery, to break the tension pushing up his spine, but riding the high line edge of a blade on not wanting to know, but wanting to keep push it, seeing how far he can push, what he might get, Danny might do, while he really shouldn't. He should be pulling back, but he isn't. Can't. Too. It wouldn't fit here unless he was rebuffing Danny and it wouldn't fit the cover already in place. (Plus, he's a fucking hypocrite. Because he knows that isn't why at all, too. But it's convenient, and it's necessary, too.)
"Yeah. Maybe. Why should you get anything for free?" That Campbell hadn't, was implied.
Because at least one of them was putting in some kind of effort. (One of them actually wanted something from him.)
"Sir, your drinks." A voice interrupted entirely, again.
Making Steve look back to the bar and realized the same second that hand had come off of him somewhere in the last short while. He should have noticed. He should have been watching. Red wine glasses on the counter. Bartender who, with the air of someone who was very used to not seeing and no judging whatever was in front of him, even three men seconds ago in a strange tangle, was studiously looking at nothing but the man who ordered.
Campbell straightening his cuffs while he barked, clear and calmly, "They won't be needed anymore."