It doesn't take Steve long to start escalating this kiss, but when he starts pushing harder, Danny can't keep from meeting it, wanting it.
He doesn't want Steve holding back, and he doesn't want Steve thinking. Doesn't want Steve to be re-thinking. Specifically. Re-thinking any of this. Kissing Danny instead of hitting him. Telling him anything, for Danny to get caught on and try to wheedle out of him.
It matters. Of course it does. Everything Steve feels and wants and needs matters. Should, especially, because the people who were supposed to care about Steve's feelings and wants and needs haven't. Everyone Danny always prided himself on being nothing like. Because he cared. He knew Steve.
Except it turned out, he didn't, right? Didn't know, and didn't do right by him, after all. Spent a whole year in blissful ignorance, asking Steve for relationship advice, and never for one second thinking there would be any reason why Steve wouldn't want to hear it. Steve, even, pushing him into it. Gabby, and Amber.
He should have known better. He should have known.
So when Steve kisses him harder, a little more desperately, he meets it. Pushes up into it, sinks his fingers into Steve's hair, belts his arm a little more firmly across Steve's back. Wanting to burn out that year, and the three than followed it, and every time he got it wrong, every time he should have known. All the times he patted himself on the back for being such a good friend, for listening to Steve and taking his advice with Gabby or Amber, and imagining he was the only person he'd be hurting, with it.
Priding himself on being the one person who would always take what Steve wanted and needed into consideration. The one who would never lie to him, or put him second to anything other than Grace.
He'd thought he'd done such a good job. That even when it was like sticking his own face into a pile of red-hot coals, he did it. Even when all he wanted was to tell Steve that the only person he wanted was him, the one standing right there, always at his side and at his back.
And he hadn't. For years, he hadn't.
He can't make that up, and he has no way of even trying to start making it up, but he can kiss Steve back, and drag him in closer, now. Pushing up into him, to roll them both over the mattress, and keep Steve close enough that it won't ever be something he can question again.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2015-11-19 02:28 am (UTC)It doesn't take Steve long to start escalating this kiss, but when he starts pushing harder, Danny can't keep from meeting it, wanting it.
He doesn't want Steve holding back, and he doesn't want Steve thinking. Doesn't want Steve to be re-thinking. Specifically. Re-thinking any of this. Kissing Danny instead of hitting him. Telling him anything, for Danny to get caught on and try to wheedle out of him.
It matters. Of course it does. Everything Steve feels and wants and needs matters. Should, especially, because the people who were supposed to care about Steve's feelings and wants and needs haven't. Everyone Danny always prided himself on being nothing like. Because he cared. He knew Steve.
Except it turned out, he didn't, right? Didn't know, and didn't do right by him, after all. Spent a whole year in blissful ignorance, asking Steve for relationship advice, and never for one second thinking there would be any reason why Steve wouldn't want to hear it. Steve, even, pushing him into it. Gabby, and Amber.
He should have known better. He should have known.
So when Steve kisses him harder, a little more desperately, he meets it. Pushes up into it, sinks his fingers into Steve's hair, belts his arm a little more firmly across Steve's back. Wanting to burn out that year, and the three than followed it, and every time he got it wrong, every time he should have known. All the times he patted himself on the back for being such a good friend, for listening to Steve and taking his advice with Gabby or Amber, and imagining he was the only person he'd be hurting, with it.
Priding himself on being the one person who would always take what Steve wanted and needed into consideration. The one who would never lie to him, or put him second to anything other than Grace.
He'd thought he'd done such a good job. That even when it was like sticking his own face into a pile of red-hot coals, he did it. Even when all he wanted was to tell Steve that the only person he wanted was him, the one standing right there, always at his side and at his back.
And he hadn't. For years, he hadn't.
He can't make that up, and he has no way of even trying to start making it up, but he can kiss Steve back, and drag him in closer, now. Pushing up into him, to roll them both over the mattress, and keep Steve close enough that it won't ever be something he can question again.