Steve goes like a mountain shaking off a landslide, tumbling into shudders that shake the whole bed, legs stuttering against the floor, and Danny's hand is suddenly slick with thin, sticky wetness, and that's it, all it takes, for him to come loose and go slamming right through the floor after him.
Like the world is coming apart. Some tornado ripping up the house and sending them spinning through engulfing chaos, and Danny doesn't care, doesn't care about anything except the angry scrape of his breath and Steve's hand, hot and heavy and so good it hurts.
"Fuck, Stev --"
A loving punch to the gut, doubling him up, shaking him loose until he feels like change in a pocket. Muscles so tight they feel about to split, shear right off bone, before everything melts: bed, air, body, thought. And explodes, soundlessly, face muffled against Steve's neck, sounds muffled against Steve's skin, body convulsing hard as if he's in the middle of a thirty floor drop.
Before the door slams. And the fist in his stomach dissolves into warm gold bliss, soothing muscles, dropping joints, leaving him fallen apart, made out of Jell-O with a head full of fluff and distant sirens. Flattened as a penny on a train track.
When everything feels like it creaks, as he pushes back, tugging his hand free and wiping it half-heartedly on the sheet, before letting out a breath that feels like it takes every ounce of strength or energy with it.
(no subject)
Date: 2013-03-07 12:18 am (UTC)Like the world is coming apart. Some tornado ripping up the house and sending them spinning through engulfing chaos, and Danny doesn't care, doesn't care about anything except the angry scrape of his breath and Steve's hand, hot and heavy and so good it hurts.
"Fuck, Stev --"
A loving punch to the gut, doubling him up, shaking him loose until he feels like change in a pocket. Muscles so tight they feel about to split, shear right off bone, before everything melts: bed, air, body, thought. And explodes, soundlessly, face muffled against Steve's neck, sounds muffled against Steve's skin, body convulsing hard as if he's in the middle of a thirty floor drop.
Before the door slams. And the fist in his stomach dissolves into warm gold bliss, soothing muscles, dropping joints, leaving him fallen apart, made out of Jell-O with a head full of fluff and distant sirens. Flattened as a penny on a train track.
When everything feels like it creaks, as he pushes back, tugging his hand free and wiping it half-heartedly on the sheet, before letting out a breath that feels like it takes every ounce of strength or energy with it.