He wants to say kids always notice. Parents have a uniform. Danny definitely has a uniform. Both of her parents do. They both dress exceedingly well at all times. She'd noticed. Kids notice. Steve notices. Even if right now, Steve's ability to notice is very much torn between denim under his fingers, finger tips tracing up his spine, his ribs, the muscles between and over them, Danny's lips moving, brushing his skin, so lightly, with every new sound to every new word.
How is he supposed to want to breathe. Move. Focus on anything else. Even Grace.
When for such a very clear moment, this seemed like it had slipped out of his fingers. The reason not withstanding, and not even existing, but still gone. Except not gone. Breathing words into his skin, correcting him about what he likes or why he likes it. And for some god forsaken reason, they are still standing here, while he absently wished, for one second, before shoving it away, this was the beginning of the weekend and not the end. Before it is gone.
"It's a good look," is said with a smirk somewhere against Danny's hair, and the side of his face. Still tucked in so close to him.
Before he makes the choice at the same time as the movement. Dragging Danny with him. One hand in a pocket, and the other sliding down to get a thumb inside the top of his jeans and pulling Danny toward the couch. Toward the place where he won't have to lean for a foot or a foot and half down, and Danny won't have to lean up. Even if neither of them say any of these things often.
But it's there. And he still wants Danny here. This close. At least a few more minutes.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2013-02-09 03:30 pm (UTC)How is he supposed to want to breathe. Move. Focus on anything else. Even Grace.
When for such a very clear moment, this seemed like it had slipped out of his fingers. The reason not withstanding, and not even existing, but still gone. Except not gone. Breathing words into his skin, correcting him about what he likes or why he likes it. And for some god forsaken reason, they are still standing here, while he absently wished, for one second, before shoving it away, this was the beginning of the weekend and not the end. Before it is gone.
"It's a good look," is said with a smirk somewhere against Danny's hair, and the side of his face. Still tucked in so close to him.
Before he makes the choice at the same time as the movement. Dragging Danny with him. One hand in a pocket, and the other sliding down to get a thumb inside the top of his jeans and pulling Danny toward the couch. Toward the place where he won't have to lean for a foot or a foot and half down, and Danny won't have to lean up. Even if neither of them say any of these things often.
But it's there. And he still wants Danny here. This close. At least a few more minutes.