That sounds is going to be the death of him. Nothing about Steve has ever been needy, aside from his pathological need to be right, be the best, and take the shortest route to any destination, even if means going through a wall, but that was. Needy. Greedy. Wanting more.
It's like nothing Danny's ever heard before, and it goes to his head like champagne, if the bottle wasn't opened and instead just smacked to shatter against his temple.
Steve wants him. This much. So much he's bodily dragging Danny up the stairs, which Danny almost trips on, as they start heading up. So much that he makes that noise when Danny stops touching him. So much that he shoved Danny against the door and kissed him, even though every rule of logic and law says he shouldn't have. That none of this should, can, happen.
But it is. And Steve's still mocking him, vicious and dark and anything but real, while Danny's stumbling to find the steps, as they keep coming, until they hit the first landing and he finds purchase to shove Steve into the wall, just for payback.
Payback, because it's definitely not slowing things down, and it's definitely not going to help them get up the stairs any faster. "You really think that now is the time to mock me, Steven?"
Sharp and annoyed, because it's easy to be annoyed with Steve, far easier than to accept everything else he's feeling, that seem like they'll crack him into spiderwebbed glass shards in any second. "Right now? When you're naked? And -- I'm pretty sure, give the circumstances -- you'd really like me to get my hand back on your dick in the near future? Now, you make fun of me? Is that smart?"
Is any of this? Is pushing Steve into the wall and knocking a picture askew, smart, is pushing in to grip the back of his head with one hand so he can lay his mouth against the pulse that's sprinting in Steve's neck smart?
It's not. But he does it anyway, because people have called him a lot of things in his life, but smart wasn't usually one of them.
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Date: 2015-10-31 07:14 pm (UTC)That sounds is going to be the death of him. Nothing about Steve has ever been needy, aside from his pathological need to be right, be the best, and take the shortest route to any destination, even if means going through a wall, but that was. Needy. Greedy. Wanting more.
It's like nothing Danny's ever heard before, and it goes to his head like champagne, if the bottle wasn't opened and instead just smacked to shatter against his temple.
Steve wants him. This much. So much he's bodily dragging Danny up the stairs, which Danny almost trips on, as they start heading up. So much that he makes that noise when Danny stops touching him. So much that he shoved Danny against the door and kissed him, even though every rule of logic and law says he shouldn't have. That none of this should, can, happen.
But it is. And Steve's still mocking him, vicious and dark and anything but real, while Danny's stumbling to find the steps, as they keep coming, until they hit the first landing and he finds purchase to shove Steve into the wall, just for payback.
Payback, because it's definitely not slowing things down, and it's definitely not going to help them get up the stairs any faster. "You really think that now is the time to mock me, Steven?"
Sharp and annoyed, because it's easy to be annoyed with Steve, far easier than to accept everything else he's feeling, that seem like they'll crack him into spiderwebbed glass shards in any second. "Right now? When you're naked? And -- I'm pretty sure, give the circumstances -- you'd really like me to get my hand back on your dick in the near future? Now, you make fun of me? Is that smart?"
Is any of this? Is pushing Steve into the wall and knocking a picture askew, smart, is pushing in to grip the back of his head with one hand so he can lay his mouth against the pulse that's sprinting in Steve's neck smart?
It's not. But he does it anyway, because people have called him a lot of things in his life, but smart wasn't usually one of them.