"I wouldn't break the door." Intentionally, at least. But he adds, settle, with a breath after. "Or your head."
Urge or not aside, he actually likes to think he's not that insane even on his worst days, even in the worst situation. Even if he knows the last part of that sentence might have about as much truth in it as any of the last thirty second of words Danny is spitting out there. Rapid fire, having gone from zero to ten thousand words in less than a handful of seconds.
Steve shaking his head, with a snort, before those words are even finished past Do whatever. Fingers tightening on Danny, not much more than because he still got shirt, and the warm skin under it, underneath his palm, and he can't stop himself from gripping Danny, like there's any chance he'll do it all, all of it, over again.
"That is such crap, too." The words are so heavy. The last two especially. "Do whatever? I'm sorry, did I just imagine the part where you bolted and then forgot to leave, even? I'm pretty sure, that doesn't look anything like do whatever," which there is a scoff, too.
And. You know. Danny has already thrown it at him several times tonight, like it's some secret to be ashamed of. Like Cath is. Or anything they've had, that obviously did not add up right after it didn't add up to her being his girl friend, and his cheating on her with Danny.
"And, yeah, I would know. So would Catherine." Maybe he had slept with her enough that only persons who knew his body better were mandate physicians and his own hands. And it's a little vicious. "So would a lot of other people." Because there are some parts of the life, it suits. It has no other options. You choose service, you choose a lot of the inconvenient things that come with it.
Like not having a building to come to every morning, or a house in New Jersey, or a wife, or husband, or kids.
"But you n' me?" And that comes with a sharp gesture between them. "The last thing you said was not casual, and the last I checked. Rolling out bed with one person? And right into bed with someone else less than five or ten hours later? That is so far below standard that even those people would find it disgusting." Which, god. Danny's face.
Danny's face, hollowed with shock, without a single shred of doubt or question in the conviction one second in his door.
He can't stop it. Even slightly. His grip or the the way his voice nearly pitches black. "And I have never." Not at his lowest. Not at his worst. Not even when he most needed to remember what a human connection, one that was anything not covered in spraying blood and broken body parts, was.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2013-02-08 09:16 pm (UTC)Urge or not aside, he actually likes to think he's not that insane even on his worst days, even in the worst situation. Even if he knows the last part of that sentence might have about as much truth in it as any of the last thirty second of words Danny is spitting out there. Rapid fire, having gone from zero to ten thousand words in less than a handful of seconds.
Steve shaking his head, with a snort, before those words are even finished past Do whatever. Fingers tightening on Danny, not much more than because he still got shirt, and the warm skin under it, underneath his palm, and he can't stop himself from gripping Danny, like there's any chance he'll do it all, all of it, over again.
"That is such crap, too." The words are so heavy. The last two especially. "Do whatever? I'm sorry, did I just imagine the part where you bolted and then forgot to leave, even? I'm pretty sure, that doesn't look anything like do whatever," which there is a scoff, too.
And. You know. Danny has already thrown it at him several times tonight, like it's some secret to be ashamed of. Like Cath is. Or anything they've had, that obviously did not add up right after it didn't add up to her being his girl friend, and his cheating on her with Danny.
"And, yeah, I would know. So would Catherine." Maybe he had slept with her enough that only persons who knew his body better were mandate physicians and his own hands. And it's a little vicious. "So would a lot of other people." Because there are some parts of the life, it suits. It has no other options. You choose service, you choose a lot of the inconvenient things that come with it.
Like not having a building to come to every morning, or a house in New Jersey, or a wife, or husband, or kids.
"But you n' me?" And that comes with a sharp gesture between them. "The last thing you said was not casual, and the last I checked. Rolling out bed with one person? And right into bed with someone else less than five or ten hours later? That is so far below standard that even those people would find it disgusting." Which, god. Danny's face.
Danny's face, hollowed with shock, without a single shred of doubt or question in the conviction one second in his door.
He can't stop it. Even slightly. His grip or the the way his voice nearly pitches black. "And I have never." Not at his lowest. Not at his worst. Not even when he most needed to remember what a human connection, one that was anything not covered in spraying blood and broken body parts, was.