Danny jerks hard, right next to his head, so he can't miss it in the slightest and Steve's teeth nearly snap together at the bricked tension in Danny's jaw suddenly. He can't let himself get stuck in it, but he swears he'll pay for this. For every second. He'll find a way. To make it up to Danny. For pushing him here. For letting him think he could. For letting it happen at all. The case. The UC. For whatever is going through Danny's head. For even hating Steve if he needs to hate Steve for a little while.
He can have his space. Days off. Anything. They just have to get the guy and then.
Then, Steve will never touch Danny again if that's what he wants.
The thought is a distant pain, like a blinding light, as he's listening to Danny find more words. Like it's easier this time. If he doesn't let himself. Feel it. The damage. Just get Danny back to the path. Back to the job part of the job. Bringing in the bastard who made this necessary in the first place. (Like it wasn't Steve, suddenly shoving Danny back into the bar. Into the wall. Into the door. Never. He was never touching Danny again.)
(It felt like he was just giving up the air. Or the sea. His hands. Being a SEAL.)
Steve steps back like it's nothing. Head coming up with that plastered, cocky, crooked smirk, again, when he lets himself laugh and lean back into the space behind where he had been. Voice loud, like the laugh. Mocking and taunting. "Make up your mind already. First you don't want the wine. Now you do."
He doesn't want to freak out Danny anymore than he has already, but he makes himself drop the hand on the wall by Danny's decidedly disheveled hair and plaster it wide on Danny's chest. Pushing him into the wall, like it's a teasing shove. "Get a room." Or the hallway. Or the backdoor. Or lead him wherever, Steve doesn't say. He's never needed to say it. He's never needed to say a lot of things. Never needed to check a lot of things. But he will now. Does. Can't. Will soon. Even if he's still broad, and he's all leisurely lines.
Thrumming tension and promise, even as he steps back from Danny, with a look across all the people to the door. "I'll get the glasses."
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Danny jerks hard, right next to his head, so he can't miss it in the slightest and Steve's teeth nearly snap together at the bricked tension in Danny's jaw suddenly. He can't let himself get stuck in it, but he swears he'll pay for this. For every second. He'll find a way. To make it up to Danny. For pushing him here. For letting him think he could. For letting it happen at all. The case. The UC. For whatever is going through Danny's head. For even hating Steve if he needs to hate Steve for a little while.
He can have his space. Days off. Anything. They just have to get the guy and then.
Then, Steve will never touch Danny again if that's what he wants.
The thought is a distant pain, like a blinding light, as he's listening to Danny find more words. Like it's easier this time. If he doesn't let himself. Feel it. The damage. Just get Danny back to the path. Back to the job part of the job. Bringing in the bastard who made this necessary in the first place. (Like it wasn't Steve, suddenly shoving Danny back into the bar. Into the wall. Into the door. Never. He was never touching Danny again.)
(It felt like he was just giving up the air. Or the sea. His hands. Being a SEAL.)
Steve steps back like it's nothing. Head coming up with that plastered, cocky, crooked smirk, again, when he lets himself laugh and lean back into the space behind where he had been. Voice loud, like the laugh. Mocking and taunting. "Make up your mind already. First you don't want the wine. Now you do."
He doesn't want to freak out Danny anymore than he has already, but he makes himself drop the hand on the wall by Danny's decidedly disheveled hair and plaster it wide on Danny's chest. Pushing him into the wall, like it's a teasing shove. "Get a room." Or the hallway. Or the backdoor. Or lead him wherever, Steve doesn't say. He's never needed to say it. He's never needed to say a lot of things. Never needed to check a lot of things. But he will now. Does. Can't. Will soon. Even if he's still broad, and he's all leisurely lines.
Thrumming tension and promise, even as he steps back from Danny, with a look across all the people to the door. "I'll get the glasses."