He makes a face at that, the last part, because he has been an adult all weekend long, all week, is the adult in most of his day-to-day interactions with Steve because Steve is more often than not a twelve-year-old with the ability to carry and use large guns. In some ways, he's pretty sure the adult thing to do would be to apologize and make himself scarce, because he has ruined their night enough already and he's not exactly champing at the bit to do more of it, or to subject himself to the level of awkwardness it will entail.
He's still not sure it's a bad idea, but Steve looks as taken aback as if Danny had told him the last ten minutes were a false alarm and he doesn't care if Steve sleeps with Catherine or anyone else. Like the thought had actually not crossed his mind. Making Danny rub his forehead, where a headache is starting to throb, other hand lifting to his hip. Wishing he had a button down, and dress pants, and loafers. Wishing he could cling to the thin veneer of professionalism, instead of these weekend clothes, sneakers, making him feel even less prepared to face the music.
"Fine." Maybe it shouldn't be so begrudging, but Steve is irritated and Danny is feeling like something that got scraped off the highway and tossed into the woods, and Catherine --
Well. "So she knows? Everything?"
Glancing at Steve for confirmation, even though he's already pretty sure what the answer will be. Steve said he told her he couldn't, and then Danny left without being able to answer her question, and Catherine is a smart lady. He's pretty sure she can put that kind of puzzle together, and he wishes there were a way to brush his reaction off, but he's pulling a blank, because there isn't. There is no reason a friend of Steve's would come so undone just by seeing another friend of Steve's who Steve occasionally sleeps with, unless that first friend...
This is getting convoluted, and too heavy, but let it never be said Danny Williams didn't face the goddamn firing squad when he deserved it, so he just shakes his head and starts heading past Steve, back towards the house. Without pausing, lifting the hand from his hip to wrap fingers around Steve's wrist, just like a. Like a touchstone. Like he needs it, in order to face down whatever's coming, and he does, because it's only been like a week and a half and they've kept it quiet from everyone. He's got no idea what it's going to be like, being in the same room as someone who knows.
It makes the whole thing seem so much more real. Suddenly a color photo, instead of black and white.
His fingers only stay there a second, before he's moving on, but it helps. As much as anything might. "Alright, fine, but it's your fault if she shoots me, is all I'm saying."
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He's still not sure it's a bad idea, but Steve looks as taken aback as if Danny had told him the last ten minutes were a false alarm and he doesn't care if Steve sleeps with Catherine or anyone else. Like the thought had actually not crossed his mind. Making Danny rub his forehead, where a headache is starting to throb, other hand lifting to his hip. Wishing he had a button down, and dress pants, and loafers. Wishing he could cling to the thin veneer of professionalism, instead of these weekend clothes, sneakers, making him feel even less prepared to face the music.
"Fine." Maybe it shouldn't be so begrudging, but Steve is irritated and Danny is feeling like something that got scraped off the highway and tossed into the woods, and Catherine --
Well. "So she knows? Everything?"
Glancing at Steve for confirmation, even though he's already pretty sure what the answer will be. Steve said he told her he couldn't, and then Danny left without being able to answer her question, and Catherine is a smart lady. He's pretty sure she can put that kind of puzzle together, and he wishes there were a way to brush his reaction off, but he's pulling a blank, because there isn't. There is no reason a friend of Steve's would come so undone just by seeing another friend of Steve's who Steve occasionally sleeps with, unless that first friend...
This is getting convoluted, and too heavy, but let it never be said Danny Williams didn't face the goddamn firing squad when he deserved it, so he just shakes his head and starts heading past Steve, back towards the house. Without pausing, lifting the hand from his hip to wrap fingers around Steve's wrist, just like a. Like a touchstone. Like he needs it, in order to face down whatever's coming, and he does, because it's only been like a week and a half and they've kept it quiet from everyone. He's got no idea what it's going to be like, being in the same room as someone who knows.
It makes the whole thing seem so much more real. Suddenly a color photo, instead of black and white.
His fingers only stay there a second, before he's moving on, but it helps. As much as anything might. "Alright, fine, but it's your fault if she shoots me, is all I'm saying."