Nothing else exists in the world with Danny's skin warm and heavy on his, making him snake a leg around Danny's thigh. One that is almost two, only nearly not just trapping Danny against his body. Maybe because Danny makes that noise, and Steve can't even be positive what causes it, because there is so much. All of this is so much, so new, so neither of them able to let go or slow down. When everything flows and floods into everything else.
Like Danny, going from that sound, to those words, to right back to kissing Steve.
But those words burn inside Steve's ears, down into his chest, even while Danny is kissing him, grinding right back into him. Smoothness lost in need. Tell me. I want to know everything. When this is. Everything. Kissing Danny, while sparklers impale his eyes, crackling down every vein in his body. Making him feel more alive and on fire than he's felt in anything but a fight in. Too long. Too long. He doesn't know when or what the last thing was. Only that it makes him kiss Danny again.
Tell me. Danny voices wheedles in his mind, while Danny's hand are on his skin, mouth is on his mouth. Everything. And maybe lesser men would let it pass. Let it go. Because Danny is kissing him. Trying to drown him back down in fire and madness, stealing his mouth and his focus. But Steve is made for madness. He excels there. More than any other standstill second of his day. Week. Life.
Where everything is red, and haywire, and insane. That's where he most know how and what and who.
His fingers are in Danny's hair and at his hip. Still fisted, still sliding, still grinding steadily up into the mess of slipping movement above him becoming messy, words coming with no plan to them. Fodder on the forsaken altar of Danny's skin that he can't let go, can't forget, can't stop wanting even more with every new second of it.
"It was always you." It's almost an accusation. Sharp, a little almost to mocking, but somehow it's relief, too. Finally saying it. Carried so long. When he's kissing Danny and keeping them close. When he'd go for broke for Danny, if Danny wanted him to, and because. Yeah, maybe. Because he wants it that way. Broken and ragged at the edged. To know if the things he can't say, ever, can be shoved over the cliff, with this insanity, and Danny.
Those first words too dangerous, too real. Everything. Danny said, and it's a marvel he didn't use that word right back. Everything. That Danny was everything. Always had been. Every new thing he learned about Danny taking up space. In his head, his gut, his memory. Building itself into perfect memory and an ache Steve couldn't control. Respected more than he respected almost anyone in his own branch, from the best of the best of the whole country.
That it wasn't about just wanting to shove him up against a wall and fuck him daily for all these years.
That it was everything else, too. How he was with Grace. With victims. Jersey, and Christmas, and how he was with Steve. Daily. Sticking. A friend, a partner. Re-inventing those words, a relationship, into things Steve had never before had anywhere with anyone, and how no one could ever get close to it after he realized that was there, between them, no matter its limitations on what it wasn't over what it was.
It's all too close to coming out of his mouth. Battering at his teeth like a tank, while he swallows white fire creeping along his skin, trying to help it come burning out on every heavy breath and hot, messier kiss. When it makes his words trite, more mocking, less serious, almost like it has to be. To survive not covering Danny with everything this same second.
"You and your stupid hair--" Curled in his fingers even now. Smooth, even with product. Golden in the sun. Soft looking fluff on the days he woke up on the couch, or went to the beach without. That perfect dome on more days than Steve could count. "--and your stupid shoes." That really were. Stupid. Loafers in Hawaii still. Bitched about always somehow getting sand inside them, but never given up. Things Steve would mock him for, but wouldn't see change.
It was all Danny. It was all the way Danny was supposed to be, and had been, and pieces of what him right.
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Nothing else exists in the world with Danny's skin warm and heavy on his, making him snake a leg around Danny's thigh. One that is almost two, only nearly not just trapping Danny against his body. Maybe because Danny makes that noise, and Steve can't even be positive what causes it, because there is so much. All of this is so much, so new, so neither of them able to let go or slow down. When everything flows and floods into everything else.
Like Danny, going from that sound, to those words, to right back to kissing Steve.
But those words burn inside Steve's ears, down into his chest, even while Danny is kissing him, grinding right back into him. Smoothness lost in need. Tell me. I want to know everything. When this is. Everything. Kissing Danny, while sparklers impale his eyes, crackling down every vein in his body. Making him feel more alive and on fire than he's felt in anything but a fight in. Too long. Too long. He doesn't know when or what the last thing was. Only that it makes him kiss Danny again.
Tell me. Danny voices wheedles in his mind, while Danny's hand are on his skin, mouth is on his mouth. Everything. And maybe lesser men would let it pass. Let it go. Because Danny is kissing him. Trying to drown him back down in fire and madness, stealing his mouth and his focus. But Steve is made for madness. He excels there. More than any other standstill second of his day. Week. Life.
Where everything is red, and haywire, and insane. That's where he most know how and what and who.
His fingers are in Danny's hair and at his hip. Still fisted, still sliding, still grinding steadily up into the mess of slipping movement above him becoming messy, words coming with no plan to them. Fodder on the forsaken altar of Danny's skin that he can't let go, can't forget, can't stop wanting even more with every new second of it.
"It was always you." It's almost an accusation. Sharp, a little almost to mocking, but somehow it's relief, too. Finally saying it. Carried so long. When he's kissing Danny and keeping them close. When he'd go for broke for Danny, if Danny wanted him to, and because. Yeah, maybe. Because he wants it that way. Broken and ragged at the edged. To know if the things he can't say, ever, can be shoved over the cliff, with this insanity, and Danny.
Those first words too dangerous, too real. Everything. Danny said, and it's a marvel he didn't use that word right back. Everything. That Danny was everything. Always had been. Every new thing he learned about Danny taking up space. In his head, his gut, his memory. Building itself into perfect memory and an ache Steve couldn't control. Respected more than he respected almost anyone in his own branch, from the best of the best of the whole country.
That it wasn't about just wanting to shove him up against a wall and fuck him daily for all these years.
That it was everything else, too. How he was with Grace. With victims. Jersey, and Christmas, and how he was with Steve. Daily. Sticking. A friend, a partner. Re-inventing those words, a relationship, into things Steve had never before had anywhere with anyone, and how no one could ever get close to it after he realized that was there, between them, no matter its limitations on what it wasn't over what it was.
It's all too close to coming out of his mouth. Battering at his teeth like a tank, while he swallows white fire creeping along his skin, trying to help it come burning out on every heavy breath and hot, messier kiss. When it makes his words trite, more mocking, less serious, almost like it has to be. To survive not covering Danny with everything this same second.
"You and your stupid hair--" Curled in his fingers even now. Smooth, even with product. Golden in the sun. Soft looking fluff on the days he woke up on the couch, or went to the beach without. That perfect dome on more days than Steve could count. "--and your stupid shoes." That really were. Stupid. Loafers in Hawaii still. Bitched about always somehow getting sand inside them, but never given up. Things Steve would mock him for, but wouldn't see change.
It was all Danny. It was all the way Danny was supposed to be, and had been, and pieces of what him right.