It's still part of the first confused, consuming ground shaking effect through everything in him, when Danny's mouth is already open. That sound coming up out of him. Soft, almost painfully needful sounding. Socking Steve with a punch he wasn't expecting. Tightening his ribs and taking any air he had only seconds ago. When it's impossible, all of this is impossible. It can't be only ever him, when no one, no one at all has ever wanted only ever him, and this.
No one has ever stayed.
(No one except Danny.)
Making this sound Danny gives up splash into Steve's head like acid, burning through thoughts and walls alike. Like Danny wanted him, needed him, this, already. Kissing him like he understood. That somehow, without anyone telling them, this is the air and not the moment before hand when either of them was capable of drawing breath in. When Steve's clothes are suddenly tight in fisted fingers, again, pulling him closer, close as possible.
Danny too solid to be a shadow between Steve and door, not actually small enough to press into it, to cover him entirely, but it's like they're trying. When Danny is holding on tight, kissing him back, and Steve isn't leaning in so much as pushing in. To Danny, even if that means he's pushing Danny into the door. Them. The door could die. Burn. Vanish. As long as it wasn't right now, while they are crowded against it. He can fix the things in the house.
He doesn't know how to fix this, or even how to have it, but he can't stop. Doesn't want to. Is afraid he'll have to.
The taste of Danny, and the weight of his hands, telling Steve where to go, move, stay, screaming louder.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2015-10-25 02:44 pm (UTC)Danny doesn't stop him.
It's still part of the first confused, consuming ground shaking effect through everything in him, when Danny's mouth is already open. That sound coming up out of him. Soft, almost painfully needful sounding. Socking Steve with a punch he wasn't expecting. Tightening his ribs and taking any air he had only seconds ago. When it's impossible, all of this is impossible. It can't be only ever him, when no one, no one at all has ever wanted only ever him, and this.
No one has ever stayed.
(No one except Danny.)
Making this sound Danny gives up splash into Steve's head like acid, burning through thoughts and walls alike. Like Danny wanted him, needed him, this, already. Kissing him like he understood. That somehow, without anyone telling them, this is the air and not the moment before hand when either of them was capable of drawing breath in. When Steve's clothes are suddenly tight in fisted fingers, again, pulling him closer, close as possible.
Danny too solid to be a shadow between Steve and door, not actually small enough to press into it, to cover him entirely, but it's like they're trying. When Danny is holding on tight, kissing him back, and Steve isn't leaning in so much as pushing in. To Danny, even if that means he's pushing Danny into the door. Them. The door could die. Burn. Vanish. As long as it wasn't right now, while they are crowded against it. He can fix the things in the house.
He doesn't know how to fix this, or even how to have it, but he can't stop. Doesn't want to. Is afraid he'll have to.
The taste of Danny, and the weight of his hands, telling Steve where to go, move, stay, screaming louder.