Steve doesn't argue, except to toss that smug comment back at him, and he doesn't fight Danny's grip or direction. He actually takes the stairs quickly, and then stiff-arms Danny into the bedroom, before Danny can really think about what it is they;re doing, only to drag him back once they're inside. In the dark. Where Danny's momentum sends him crashing into Steve, but Steve seems ready for him, and then there are hands all over him, lighting his skin on fire. Running over his shoulders. Down his arms. Along his sides. Flat against his chest. Pulling out tiny sounds, while he's catching Danny's mouth with his, and setting off little muted explosions all the way through his body.
There's no time to think. No time to think about how they're in Steve's bedroom, and Steve's bed is right there, or how Steve is naked and Danny is getting there. It's all just flashes, while his hands reach back for Steve, again, for his hips, sides, to run down the slope at the small of his back. Everywhere he was never supposed to touch Steve, before, and now can.
Live out every one of those fantasies, by letting his hands track over smooth planes of muscle and the dip of his back, amazed because Steve's skin is so much softer than he would ever have expected, more sensitive. And warmer.
He could be happy, more than happy, completely satisfied, just with this. Just getting to put his hands on Steve, and kiss him, here in the dark, and have it be real. While Steve wants this. While Steve wants him. Said so, against the door, downstairs. Almost lost it during a job, because of it.
There's no chance of getting enough. There's no such thing, there's too much of Steve to learn and memorize, to have to torture himself with when this inevitably tosses him off a cliff, blows up in his face.
But it hasn't, yet, which is as surprising as anything else, tonight. Somehow, they made it all the way up here, to this quiet, dark, warm room, where the ocean is murmurming outside and the breeze is slipping through the windows and Steve has brought him up here, because he wants Danny in his room, his space, his bed.
That they aren't actually moving towards, but that's fine, too. Danny's not sure he's done here, yet.
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Steve doesn't argue, except to toss that smug comment back at him, and he doesn't fight Danny's grip or direction. He actually takes the stairs quickly, and then stiff-arms Danny into the bedroom, before Danny can really think about what it is they;re doing, only to drag him back once they're inside. In the dark. Where Danny's momentum sends him crashing into Steve, but Steve seems ready for him, and then there are hands all over him, lighting his skin on fire. Running over his shoulders. Down his arms. Along his sides. Flat against his chest. Pulling out tiny sounds, while he's catching Danny's mouth with his, and setting off little muted explosions all the way through his body.
There's no time to think. No time to think about how they're in Steve's bedroom, and Steve's bed is right there, or how Steve is naked and Danny is getting there. It's all just flashes, while his hands reach back for Steve, again, for his hips, sides, to run down the slope at the small of his back. Everywhere he was never supposed to touch Steve, before, and now can.
Live out every one of those fantasies, by letting his hands track over smooth planes of muscle and the dip of his back, amazed because Steve's skin is so much softer than he would ever have expected, more sensitive. And warmer.
He could be happy, more than happy, completely satisfied, just with this. Just getting to put his hands on Steve, and kiss him, here in the dark, and have it be real. While Steve wants this. While Steve wants him. Said so, against the door, downstairs. Almost lost it during a job, because of it.
There's no chance of getting enough. There's no such thing, there's too much of Steve to learn and memorize, to have to torture himself with when this inevitably tosses him off a cliff, blows up in his face.
But it hasn't, yet, which is as surprising as anything else, tonight. Somehow, they made it all the way up here, to this quiet, dark, warm room, where the ocean is murmurming outside and the breeze is slipping through the windows and Steve has brought him up here, because he wants Danny in his room, his space, his bed.
That they aren't actually moving towards, but that's fine, too. Danny's not sure he's done here, yet.