The moment Danny looks at him stretches too long. Again.
Especially while Danny -- Danny, who asked to talk to him -- clings to the door. Like he chose wrong again. Like maybe he wanted to talk, but he wanted to talk somewhere not in Steve's house. Even after asking for it. Maybe. Not. Not in an enclosed space. Steve's space. Maybe he'd wanted it to stay near his car now, where he could run away very quickly once he got done with this. Only followed Steve, because Steve stipulated with his short answer. He did this.
But then Danny's hands raise, again, leaving the door and he starts talking. Beginning with an apology, that makes Steve's eyebrows push toward the center in confusion. Especially when he keeps going. Laying out his words, like somehow this is his fault. Not that Steve has the faintest clue how he got to this. It's wrong. It's worse than wrong. Somehow Danny is blaming himself for what Steve did now. Like Steve, what? Couldn't help himself? Was too weak to maintain his own control? If Danny did his job?
He doesn't even have time to answer it, because Danny moves.
Or doesn't. He'd been about to. Shifted to come forward. But didn't.
The same as the hand that had raised toward him and stopped. Danny stopping the very impulses that drove. Hands and feet, noise and movement. Because he's making no sense, but that hasn't changed. He doesn't want to be anywhere near Steve still. Which at least is the one thing that does still make sense to Steve. Even as Danny's saying he doesn't want things to be fucked up. Something not adding up anymore. Danny apologizing, with absolutely no reason to, throwing himself under the bus about the case. For Steve? Because of Steve? But over there. As far away as possible.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2015-10-22 01:34 am (UTC)The moment Danny looks at him stretches too long. Again.
Especially while Danny -- Danny, who asked to talk to him -- clings to the door. Like he chose wrong again. Like maybe he wanted to talk, but he wanted to talk somewhere not in Steve's house. Even after asking for it. Maybe. Not. Not in an enclosed space. Steve's space. Maybe he'd wanted it to stay near his car now, where he could run away very quickly once he got done with this. Only followed Steve, because Steve stipulated with his short answer. He did this.
But then Danny's hands raise, again, leaving the door and he starts talking. Beginning with an apology, that makes Steve's eyebrows push toward the center in confusion. Especially when he keeps going. Laying out his words, like somehow this is his fault. Not that Steve has the faintest clue how he got to this. It's wrong. It's worse than wrong. Somehow Danny is blaming himself for what Steve did now. Like Steve, what? Couldn't help himself? Was too weak to maintain his own control? If Danny did his job?
He doesn't even have time to answer it, because Danny moves.
Or doesn't. He'd been about to. Shifted to come forward. But didn't.
The same as the hand that had raised toward him and stopped. Danny stopping the very impulses that drove. Hands and feet, noise and movement. Because he's making no sense, but that hasn't changed. He doesn't want to be anywhere near Steve still. Which at least is the one thing that does still make sense to Steve. Even as Danny's saying he doesn't want things to be fucked up. Something not adding up anymore. Danny apologizing, with absolutely no reason to, throwing himself under the bus about the case. For Steve? Because of Steve? But over there. As far away as possible.