Which, he has to, because Steve is kissing him, in a way that starts out sharp, like it's supposed to be punctuation, but then his lips part and his body shifts fluidly over Danny's, and it makes Danny want to bury fingers in his hair, keep him from ever moving his mouth away, because this is so much more necessary than air. Even when he has to keep at it, needs to keep pushing it. "Who said anything about surrender?"
He, Danny Williams, is the prince of lost causes. He knows it. Steve knows it. He can move on in a case, but when it's personal? Done. There has never been a thing he's been able to let go of. How much easier could the divorce and move gone if he hadn't clung to the shattered remnants of his marriage? He gets all tied up in it, he always has, and now he's tied up with this, with Steve. For whom there is no cure. For whom Danny's feelings are so far past his control he'd have better luck deciding the weather. If there was a chance, it's long past, now, because he knows this, alright, he knows it, the way Steve is at the edge of every thought and how Steve smashes into his dreams the way Steve has, regularly, smashed through actual physical walls or windows.
But that doesn't mean he gives up. Oh. Hell no. He might not be fighting this feeling, but he's sure as hell not going to roll over and let it swamp him, either. Clinging by his fingernails to whatever piece of solid ground he can find, still reaching for land even while he's being swept out to sea.
Or maybe just reaching for Steve. Hand stealing low, smoothing over his hip and the round of his ass, like he owns this, Steve, every inch of his skin and every part of his body. Even the kiss Steve's drowning him with, making lights flash, hard and stuttering, somewhere between his eyes and the ceiling.
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Which, he has to, because Steve is kissing him, in a way that starts out sharp, like it's supposed to be punctuation, but then his lips part and his body shifts fluidly over Danny's, and it makes Danny want to bury fingers in his hair, keep him from ever moving his mouth away, because this is so much more necessary than air. Even when he has to keep at it, needs to keep pushing it. "Who said anything about surrender?"
He, Danny Williams, is the prince of lost causes. He knows it. Steve knows it. He can move on in a case, but when it's personal? Done. There has never been a thing he's been able to let go of. How much easier could the divorce and move gone if he hadn't clung to the shattered remnants of his marriage? He gets all tied up in it, he always has, and now he's tied up with this, with Steve. For whom there is no cure. For whom Danny's feelings are so far past his control he'd have better luck deciding the weather. If there was a chance, it's long past, now, because he knows this, alright, he knows it, the way Steve is at the edge of every thought and how Steve smashes into his dreams the way Steve has, regularly, smashed through actual physical walls or windows.
But that doesn't mean he gives up. Oh. Hell no. He might not be fighting this feeling, but he's sure as hell not going to roll over and let it swamp him, either. Clinging by his fingernails to whatever piece of solid ground he can find, still reaching for land even while he's being swept out to sea.
Or maybe just reaching for Steve. Hand stealing low, smoothing over his hip and the round of his ass, like he owns this, Steve, every inch of his skin and every part of his body. Even the kiss Steve's drowning him with, making lights flash, hard and stuttering, somewhere between his eyes and the ceiling.