Danny talks about a few years ago, making something in Steve's heart and his face soften against a fierce ache of confusion, but it's like someone sagging behind a set of bars, iron steel and artic cold, because it's not what he needs yet and he needs to know before he can let himself fall into it. He knows he's being an idiot. He knows he might be ruining this. He knows he shouldn't give a damn, because of Rachel and Gabby and Amber and Cath and anyone else he might have had for any of those 'just a moment, just a night' things that didn't matter and he'd never want to admit to Danny.
He should give that same benefit of the doubt and understanding to Danny. But he doesn't want to.
He can hear it in his voice, how flat and trying for empty of reaction it is when he prompts, "And before that?" He adds it, like somehow he can say this without hit guts tightening even to acknowledge the lunacy. "Before me?"
Before he became part of this. Something Danny was interested in. Wanted to touch, kiss, avoided mentioning for years for that reason, too. He wants Danny's hands on him. He wants to kiss Danny through the door and burn any other persons hands off of him. Out of his own memory. Because it's suddenly violently, in such utter stillness, in his head, not okay with him. He doesn't want to understand. He doesn't want to be patient. He wants to know everything.
He wants it cut open and dissected on the floor in front of him. Even when Danny's hand on his waist and his collar. He wants to know, needs to know. Danny's never not told him anything this important. It was shock enough when he wouldn't walk into the cave. That Steve might have missed this even if annoying fear in his partner, that might effect any case. That they'd gone years. That was a surprise enough. Made him feel like a heel and an idiot. Unobservant. Bad at his job. Maybe at their friendship.
But this. This reigns a hairline fracture away from unsettling him entirely in a completely different way. Cut through his intenses, twining knives up into his lungs, wrapping in and out between each rib. Because he can handle this. Whatever Danny says. Whenever, however long, whoever else has been here, he'll know, okay. Because he needs to know. Because Doris is gone, and Cath is gone, and Danny can't be gone, or even only partially here, partially real, but not as much as Steve'd thought he was, kept relying on him to be every time something else broke in his hands.
Especially not when Steve's got him pressed between his own body and the door. A tower against the light.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2015-10-25 03:39 am (UTC)Danny talks about a few years ago, making something in Steve's heart and his face soften against a fierce ache of confusion, but it's like someone sagging behind a set of bars, iron steel and artic cold, because it's not what he needs yet and he needs to know before he can let himself fall into it. He knows he's being an idiot. He knows he might be ruining this. He knows he shouldn't give a damn, because of Rachel and Gabby and Amber and Cath and anyone else he might have had for any of those 'just a moment, just a night' things that didn't matter and he'd never want to admit to Danny.
He should give that same benefit of the doubt and understanding to Danny. But he doesn't want to.
He can hear it in his voice, how flat and trying for empty of reaction it is when he prompts, "And before that?"
He adds it, like somehow he can say this without hit guts tightening even to acknowledge the lunacy. "Before me?"
Before he became part of this. Something Danny was interested in. Wanted to touch, kiss, avoided mentioning for years for that reason, too. He wants Danny's hands on him. He wants to kiss Danny through the door and burn any other persons hands off of him. Out of his own memory. Because it's suddenly violently, in such utter stillness, in his head, not okay with him. He doesn't want to understand. He doesn't want to be patient. He wants to know everything.
He wants it cut open and dissected on the floor in front of him. Even when Danny's hand on his waist and his collar. He wants to know, needs to know. Danny's never not told him anything this important. It was shock enough when he wouldn't walk into the cave. That Steve might have missed this even if annoying fear in his partner, that might effect any case. That they'd gone years. That was a surprise enough. Made him feel like a heel and an idiot. Unobservant. Bad at his job. Maybe at their friendship.
But this. This reigns a hairline fracture away from unsettling him entirely in a completely different way. Cut through his intenses, twining knives up into his lungs, wrapping in and out between each rib. Because he can handle this. Whatever Danny says. Whenever, however long, whoever else has been here, he'll know, okay. Because he needs to know. Because Doris is gone, and Cath is gone, and Danny can't be gone, or even only partially here, partially real, but not as much as Steve'd thought he was, kept relying on him to be every time something else broke in his hands.
Especially not when Steve's got him pressed between his own body and the door. A tower against the light.