Danny looks away, making it feel, impossibly, like he can finally take a breath in for the first time since that hand settled fingers against his waist. Even three layers from his skin. More of Danny doing the right thing. The thing they shouldn't stop doing. Steve let his eyes follow Danny's, maybe like they'd been discussing Campbell walking off, and he was looking up to see where he'd gone instead of casing the room, again.
But it's only a quick skirt of faces he couldn't paint a second later if he wanted to, because suddenly his shoulders and head are being jerked down, muscles pulling back hard behind and around his breast bone, pressing that breath he got in just as quickly out. Only getting his eyes to his tie in Danny's hand as it's already being let go on. Tugging as he gives that inane response that's as false as anything. Danny could talk paint off a wall if he wanted to.
"And yet you get off on interrupting anytime you can," Steve smacks right into the middle of Danny's words.
Waiting for Danny to stop talking was like waiting for days it was clouding in Hawaii. It wasn't impossible, just a whole lot less than anything near likely. Not that he'd wanted to talk to the guy for long, or even cared about the guy coming back or going away empty handed and pissed off. But there were easier, cleaner, more precise ways to have made that happen than Danny's choice.
Which is what Steve tells himself he's thinking about, and not anything else, when he's reaching up to make sure his tie is still straight after that. Smoothing a hand down the long line of it, down to where it shifted inside his jacket. Already at wanting to not have it on, but fine about ignoring that impulse to the lowest, innocuous hum.
"Nah, he's not the type," Steve says, and he instantly wants to eat the words. Like they are too telling. About the guy. About Steve. Things he knows. Sees. Has done. Even if his brain screams it could have been completely nothing sound either. Making him shove more words out of his mouth, "So you definitely owe me a drink now."
no subject
Danny looks away, making it feel, impossibly, like he can finally take a breath in for the first time since that hand settled fingers against his waist. Even three layers from his skin. More of Danny doing the right thing. The thing they shouldn't stop doing. Steve let his eyes follow Danny's, maybe like they'd been discussing Campbell walking off, and he was looking up to see where he'd gone instead of casing the room, again.
But it's only a quick skirt of faces he couldn't paint a second later if he wanted to, because suddenly his shoulders and head are being jerked down, muscles pulling back hard behind and around his breast bone, pressing that breath he got in just as quickly out. Only getting his eyes to his tie in Danny's hand as it's already being let go on. Tugging as he gives that inane response that's as false as anything. Danny could talk paint off a wall if he wanted to.
"And yet you get off on interrupting anytime you can," Steve smacks right into the middle of Danny's words.
Waiting for Danny to stop talking was like waiting for days it was clouding in Hawaii. It wasn't impossible, just a whole lot less than anything near likely. Not that he'd wanted to talk to the guy for long, or even cared about the guy coming back or going away empty handed and pissed off. But there were easier, cleaner, more precise ways to have made that happen than Danny's choice.
Which is what Steve tells himself he's thinking about, and not anything else, when he's reaching up to make sure his tie is still straight after that. Smoothing a hand down the long line of it, down to where it shifted inside his jacket. Already at wanting to not have it on, but fine about ignoring that impulse to the lowest, innocuous hum.
"Nah, he's not the type," Steve says, and he instantly wants to eat the words. Like they are too telling. About the guy. About Steve. Things he knows. Sees. Has done. Even if his brain screams it could have been completely nothing sound either. Making him shove more words out of his mouth, "So you definitely owe me a drink now."