"Excuse you?" Steve's sputtering in a semblance of annoyance, that isn't quite real, and involves words getting tossed at him in gulps of air over there. And shoes. Shoes that suddenly happen to exist at him. At the end of his feet. In the way of his pants. The kind good for hiking a mountain. And he was going to have to get to them, as Danny was curling, getting rid of boxers and sock, and tossing words at his head.
"Weren't you just the person making demands about less clothing?" He's jerking at knots, pants around his tights and calves and getting in the way sloppy on the tops of those boots, and only half entertaining the inconsequential prices of shoelaces and the easy, convenient uses of knives. How the air in the room is making his skin prickle and how much time he doesn't want to have for shoes. Did not care about these things. But Danny asked.
And, really, how much wouldn't he give if Danny wanted it. Especially right now. When gravity is existing like the swoop of a ship rocking on waves, even when you're standing still. He tossed off one boot, sock still half hanging in it, with a resounding thud against the floor, and moves on to the other, still talking. Jerking at more laces. Jerking sound at the air.
Tugging at Danny in the only way he can for another twenty or forty seconds. "Or are against anything being fair tonight?"
Like he's not aware, not already casting a side glance, knowing Danny is at that before he is already, too. But knowing that, thinking about it, just makes it both harder and more focused to be yanking at knots till they go. Danny. Already clothing free. Not currently brushing his skin anywhere, now, making all of it tighten and spark with sensation, like loss can be felt physically across every inch he'd been against second ago.
Lending him to half yanking, half kicking off his second shoe, and grabbing the pants around his thighs, knees, and ankles, starting skinning out of them in the next breath after the boots are gone.
no subject
"Weren't you just the person making demands about less clothing?" He's jerking at knots, pants around his tights and calves and getting in the way sloppy on the tops of those boots, and only half entertaining the inconsequential prices of shoelaces and the easy, convenient uses of knives. How the air in the room is making his skin prickle and how much time he doesn't want to have for shoes. Did not care about these things. But Danny asked.
And, really, how much wouldn't he give if Danny wanted it. Especially right now. When gravity is existing like the swoop of a ship rocking on waves, even when you're standing still. He tossed off one boot, sock still half hanging in it, with a resounding thud against the floor, and moves on to the other, still talking. Jerking at more laces. Jerking sound at the air.
Tugging at Danny in the only way he can for another twenty or forty seconds. "Or are against anything being fair tonight?"
Like he's not aware, not already casting a side glance, knowing Danny is at that before he is already, too. But knowing that, thinking about it, just makes it both harder and more focused to be yanking at knots till they go. Danny. Already clothing free. Not currently brushing his skin anywhere, now, making all of it tighten and spark with sensation, like loss can be felt physically across every inch he'd been against second ago.
Lending him to half yanking, half kicking off his second shoe, and grabbing the pants around his thighs, knees, and ankles, starting skinning out of them in the next breath after the boots are gone.