It's almost as much of a surprise as Steve's slip earlier had been, and Danny has to pause for a second to mull it over, eyebrows crawling together, taken aback. Not the answer, but how simple that answer is. Before Steve. A completely alien concept he hadn't really even considered, before. "There wasn't a before you."
He knows he might be shooting himself in the foot, here. It's not the kind of thing most people like to hear: that they are the only option, the only one, the first, the singular. A lack of experience can be a deal-breaker, and feeling that way towards only one person might seem like...who knows, deflected urges, or something.
But this is not that. Danny's always been this way. There was Rachel, and she was everything, the only person he wanted, the only one in his mind, heart, world. And then there was Steve. And it was the same damn thing, and that was when Danny knew he was really in trouble. "Just you."
When it might be too honest, but Steve's face looks like it's going to crack from the strain, and Steve's questions are too quick and too hard and it might be a little hypocritical of Steve, but Danny doesn't care. They're not the same kind of person. He tried, a couple of times, but it was never enough, never even enough to make a full night of.
It wasn't Steve, and that was a dealbreaker. "It was only ever you."
Which Steve should know, because Steve knows Danny. Knows how Danny operates. How he is when he falls for someone, which is nothing like how he is when he thinks he should probably try dating someone. There wasn't time to be nervous, or to second-guess it, or to worry over dates: it hit like lightning, like a car crash, like a bridge crumbling beneath his feet.
While Steve stares at him, looking like the last thread of his sanity is slowly snapping, and while Danny just realizes that they've been having entirely different conversations for the last few minutes.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2015-10-25 03:56 am (UTC)"Before you?"
It's almost as much of a surprise as Steve's slip earlier had been, and Danny has to pause for a second to mull it over, eyebrows crawling together, taken aback. Not the answer, but how simple that answer is. Before Steve. A completely alien concept he hadn't really even considered, before. "There wasn't a before you."
He knows he might be shooting himself in the foot, here. It's not the kind of thing most people like to hear: that they are the only option, the only one, the first, the singular. A lack of experience can be a deal-breaker, and feeling that way towards only one person might seem like...who knows, deflected urges, or something.
But this is not that. Danny's always been this way. There was Rachel, and she was everything, the only person he wanted, the only one in his mind, heart, world. And then there was Steve. And it was the same damn thing, and that was when Danny knew he was really in trouble. "Just you."
When it might be too honest, but Steve's face looks like it's going to crack from the strain, and Steve's questions are too quick and too hard and it might be a little hypocritical of Steve, but Danny doesn't care. They're not the same kind of person. He tried, a couple of times, but it was never enough, never even enough to make a full night of.
It wasn't Steve, and that was a dealbreaker. "It was only ever you."
Which Steve should know, because Steve knows Danny. Knows how Danny operates. How he is when he falls for someone, which is nothing like how he is when he thinks he should probably try dating someone. There wasn't time to be nervous, or to second-guess it, or to worry over dates: it hit like lightning, like a car crash, like a bridge crumbling beneath his feet.
While Steve stares at him, looking like the last thread of his sanity is slowly snapping, and while Danny just realizes that they've been having entirely different conversations for the last few minutes.