"Hey, I am fair. Fairness is my middle name. You are the one who likes to maintain clear levels of tactical superiority."
Which he actually has, for maybe the first time ever, because his shoes got kicked off already and that means he can lie back, one hand on his chest, fingers trailing lightly, the other propping up and gesturing a little lazily to find his point, which is...
Well, he had one. He thinks. And he's pretty sure it started and ended with Steve being naked, which is currently on it's way to happening, possibly by way of violent boot death, the way Steve is attacking it. Like that boot killed his dog, and then stole his car. Like it's a sleazy bookie dating his baby sister. Like he hates that boot, with the growl transferring to his comments to Danny, who is enjoying this way too much.
It's just that, come on. How often does he get to see Steve not one hundred percent on top of a situation? And having a hard time getting the upper hand with an inanimate object, no less?
Which makes Danny's eyebrows lift as the shoes get kicked off, and he's going to say something about watching out for the nearby lamp, but then Steve is all motion and rapidly baring skin and all those words just kind of dry up and drift away, unimportant. Nothing is, except to lean up and meet him again, hands seeking out hips and ass and thighs, everything that had been covered and is now laid out, for him, because he asked, and he really thinks his heart might explode, soft and messy, painting the walls of his chest like a gunshot, because this is better, it's so much better, there's nothing at all except skin and pulling Steve back down to him, nothing in the world.
no subject
Which he actually has, for maybe the first time ever, because his shoes got kicked off already and that means he can lie back, one hand on his chest, fingers trailing lightly, the other propping up and gesturing a little lazily to find his point, which is...
Well, he had one. He thinks. And he's pretty sure it started and ended with Steve being naked, which is currently on it's way to happening, possibly by way of violent boot death, the way Steve is attacking it. Like that boot killed his dog, and then stole his car. Like it's a sleazy bookie dating his baby sister. Like he hates that boot, with the growl transferring to his comments to Danny, who is enjoying this way too much.
It's just that, come on. How often does he get to see Steve not one hundred percent on top of a situation? And having a hard time getting the upper hand with an inanimate object, no less?
Which makes Danny's eyebrows lift as the shoes get kicked off, and he's going to say something about watching out for the nearby lamp, but then Steve is all motion and rapidly baring skin and all those words just kind of dry up and drift away, unimportant. Nothing is, except to lean up and meet him again, hands seeking out hips and ass and thighs, everything that had been covered and is now laid out, for him, because he asked, and he really thinks his heart might explode, soft and messy, painting the walls of his chest like a gunshot, because this is better, it's so much better, there's nothing at all except skin and pulling Steve back down to him, nothing in the world.