He knows it comes out a little dopey, a little drowsy, knows his eyes are heavy and relaxed, but he's not out of it enough to miss the way Steve leans into his fingers, or how Steve's eyes drop to his mouth, and have to pull themselves back up again to meet his. "You coulda fooled me."
With all the times Steve's criticized him or mocked him, all the times Steve's argued back when Danny takes a stand, reminds him of the rules they can't break and the ones they shouldn't. There have been times when it's seemed like Steve is nothing so much as simply exasperated by Danny's continued existence near him.
Danny even used to believe it.
And maybe it was real, once upon a time. Back in the beginning, when everything was raw and ragged and Danny was so angry at the world he almost argued himself out of the best job he ever had with the best team there is. Maybe, back then, Steve meant it, and maybe there have been a handful of times since then, but not most of the time. Maybe not ever, anymore.
Not when Steve comes to Colombia to get him, or when Steve has never once questioned him about something personal and important since Meka. Not when Steve is either at Danny's place, with him and Grace, every weekend, or inviting Danny here, when it's just assumed that they'll spend their free time together, just like their work hours.
But he still says it, because he's supposed to say it, because that's what they do, even while his fingers start running more purposefully over Steve's scalp, before they tighten, and start pulling him in, as Danny's leaning forward. A little awkward, at this angle, but Steve's right there, and Danny wants to see what it'll be like, to kiss him slow and certain and specific, without the rush and fire of impatient need.
What he tastes like. What he feels like. How much more Danny can feel like his whole body is slowly dissolving into the warm, dark Hawaiian night.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2015-11-16 04:24 am (UTC)"No?"
He knows it comes out a little dopey, a little drowsy, knows his eyes are heavy and relaxed, but he's not out of it enough to miss the way Steve leans into his fingers, or how Steve's eyes drop to his mouth, and have to pull themselves back up again to meet his. "You coulda fooled me."
With all the times Steve's criticized him or mocked him, all the times Steve's argued back when Danny takes a stand, reminds him of the rules they can't break and the ones they shouldn't. There have been times when it's seemed like Steve is nothing so much as simply exasperated by Danny's continued existence near him.
Danny even used to believe it.
And maybe it was real, once upon a time. Back in the beginning, when everything was raw and ragged and Danny was so angry at the world he almost argued himself out of the best job he ever had with the best team there is. Maybe, back then, Steve meant it, and maybe there have been a handful of times since then, but not most of the time. Maybe not ever, anymore.
Not when Steve comes to Colombia to get him, or when Steve has never once questioned him about something personal and important since Meka. Not when Steve is either at Danny's place, with him and Grace, every weekend, or inviting Danny here, when it's just assumed that they'll spend their free time together, just like their work hours.
But he still says it, because he's supposed to say it, because that's what they do, even while his fingers start running more purposefully over Steve's scalp, before they tighten, and start pulling him in, as Danny's leaning forward. A little awkward, at this angle, but Steve's right there, and Danny wants to see what it'll be like, to kiss him slow and certain and specific, without the rush and fire of impatient need.
What he tastes like. What he feels like. How much more Danny can feel like his whole body is slowly dissolving into the warm, dark Hawaiian night.