He doesn't even know why he bothers, because it's not like Steve ever fucking listens to him, and he doesn't now, either. Steps in, like Danny isn't a grenade primed to explode, all over him, while Danny can't go backwards, because backwards is only the door, where he really would be trapped, and he can't push forward, because that would mean touching Steve, and he's not allowed to touch Steve anymore, because he ruined it. Took something amazing, unique, maybe a little confusing to an outsider but sensible to them, and ground it under his heel.
Everything Steve is to him. Everything he's supposed to be to Steve. All the times they've come for each other.
So he stands his ground, feeling like a puffer fish, slowly filling, needles prickling everywhere, invisible through his skin, and glares, and says, finally, "sto--"
That never gets finished, except in a push of breath, as Steve's hand hits his chest, and Danny's shoved backwards, and, honestly, his first reaction is surprise, that Steve will actually do it, but he shouldn't be. Right? In the end, Steve's a SEAL. Military. And just because DADT got repealed, that doesn't mean most men in the military would react well to their male best friend telling them they enjoyed kissing them, touching them. Wanted them.
Were in love with them.
Steve's hand hits his chest, and he hits the door, hard enough to knock his breath loose, hard enough to whack his head against the wood, and he can't move, because Steve's hand is still an anvil on his chest and Steve's pushing in, determined and pissed off, and Danny's got just enough time to brace for getting the shit kicked out of him, the way he's seen Steve take down countless scumbags, when Steve pushes into him, instead, and the world world shrinks in on itself and explodes at his mouth hitting Danny's, hard.
Danny's, that was open to protest, or to try and breathe, finally, but that's not going to happen, won't, maybe ever again, because Steve's mouth is on his and Steve's crushing him into the door and Danny's hand finally lifts to wrap around Steve's wrist, but he doesn't know if it's to keep Steve's hand there, or to try and pull it away.
While that sound reaches up out of Steve's chest and something in Danny's dies, or is born again, or goes up in flames and vanishes into ash.
He's not. He's. But it isn't. Danny just said. Steve told him. He tried to get him to leave. He didn't want this. There's no one watching.
Insane rambles, across his malfunctioning brain, because this can't be happening, because there's no cover to keep up or perp to take down, but Steve is kissing him, and Danny only realizes after a long minute that his free hand is fisted in Steve's jacket, dragging him closer.
But it's enough. An ice cube trickling down his neck, that makes him let go of the fabric like it's on fire, shove at Steve's hip, when he still can't move back further, or away.
Enough to try and get some space, enough to find oxygen and whatever is left of his sanity, because something just happened to turn the world upside down and he has no idea how to even begin to figure out what.
Even when that's the word his lips form, soundless, too far from Steve's, and not far enough, while his fingers are tight enough on Steve's wrist that his knuckles have gone white. "What -- are you doing, Steve, what -- what, what's happening?"
What. Repeating over and over in his head, stupidly, while he still keeps a hold of Steve, suddenly terrified he'll try to pull away, sure Danny should be pushing him.
But he can't. Steve. Steve just. And Danny doesn't know why
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2015-10-22 10:10 pm (UTC)He doesn't even know why he bothers, because it's not like Steve ever fucking listens to him, and he doesn't now, either. Steps in, like Danny isn't a grenade primed to explode, all over him, while Danny can't go backwards, because backwards is only the door, where he really would be trapped, and he can't push forward, because that would mean touching Steve, and he's not allowed to touch Steve anymore, because he ruined it. Took something amazing, unique, maybe a little confusing to an outsider but sensible to them, and ground it under his heel.
Everything Steve is to him. Everything he's supposed to be to Steve. All the times they've come for each other.
So he stands his ground, feeling like a puffer fish, slowly filling, needles prickling everywhere, invisible through his skin, and glares, and says, finally, "sto--"
That never gets finished, except in a push of breath, as Steve's hand hits his chest, and Danny's shoved backwards, and, honestly, his first reaction is surprise, that Steve will actually do it, but he shouldn't be. Right? In the end, Steve's a SEAL. Military. And just because DADT got repealed, that doesn't mean most men in the military would react well to their male best friend telling them they enjoyed kissing them, touching them. Wanted them.
Were in love with them.
Steve's hand hits his chest, and he hits the door, hard enough to knock his breath loose, hard enough to whack his head against the wood, and he can't move, because Steve's hand is still an anvil on his chest and Steve's pushing in, determined and pissed off, and Danny's got just enough time to brace for getting the shit kicked out of him, the way he's seen Steve take down countless scumbags, when Steve pushes into him, instead, and the world world shrinks in on itself and explodes at his mouth hitting Danny's, hard.
Danny's, that was open to protest, or to try and breathe, finally, but that's not going to happen, won't, maybe ever again, because Steve's mouth is on his and Steve's crushing him into the door and Danny's hand finally lifts to wrap around Steve's wrist, but he doesn't know if it's to keep Steve's hand there, or to try and pull it away.
While that sound reaches up out of Steve's chest and something in Danny's dies, or is born again, or goes up in flames and vanishes into ash.
He's not. He's. But it isn't. Danny just said. Steve told him. He tried to get him to leave. He didn't want this. There's no one watching.
Insane rambles, across his malfunctioning brain, because this can't be happening, because there's no cover to keep up or perp to take down, but Steve is kissing him, and Danny only realizes after a long minute that his free hand is fisted in Steve's jacket, dragging him closer.
But it's enough. An ice cube trickling down his neck, that makes him let go of the fabric like it's on fire, shove at Steve's hip, when he still can't move back further, or away.
Enough to try and get some space, enough to find oxygen and whatever is left of his sanity, because something just happened to turn the world upside down and he has no idea how to even begin to figure out what.
Even when that's the word his lips form, soundless, too far from Steve's, and not far enough, while his fingers are tight enough on Steve's wrist that his knuckles have gone white. "What -- are you doing, Steve, what -- what, what's happening?"
What. Repeating over and over in his head, stupidly, while he still keeps a hold of Steve, suddenly terrified he'll try to pull away, sure Danny should be pushing him.
But he can't. Steve. Steve just. And Danny doesn't know why