"But even you would wear them if it came down to loafers or letting down the country. Right?"
Obviously. Of course he would. Even Steve is not that stubborn. But Danny can't resist, can't keep from poking further, angling into it like he doesn't actually know better, like there's even a single thing Steve wouldn't do if avoiding it meant failing his duty and oath to protect.
Which Danny knows all too well, because he's seen it in action a thousand times, in a thousand heart-stopping ways, when Steve's lack of self-preservation became damn near suicidal and far too close for comfort. Spiking Danny's blood pressure along the way. Throwing himself heedlessly into anything, whatever was required. When Danny knows Steve would give everything of himself he has, without question, and without looking back.
It drives him nuts, it really does. And if anyone ever asked, he'd be the first to say, loudly, at length, that he would be happy if Steve maybe thought, first, before diving headlong into the fray, or if Steve ever actually considered his own bodily well-being before doing the same, but that's that tiny part, small and sure, walled off from the storm of the rest that knows it's not true. Steve wouldn't be Steve if he were like that, and Danny --
Can't keep from pulling him closer, that smirk dragging itself across Steve's face like a green light beckoning him closer. Not when Steve's moving down, still sniping, and Danny's shaking his head even though his breath feels short. "What's the point of owning shoes I can't work in? Aren't the jeans bad enough? It's a waste of what is, I promise you, very limited bureau space."
And he could probably keep going, too, but Steve's bending down further and now Steve's mouth is on his and words dissolved into a sound that settles in Danny's chest, far quieter and nowhere near as argumentative.
no subject
Obviously. Of course he would. Even Steve is not that stubborn. But Danny can't resist, can't keep from poking further, angling into it like he doesn't actually know better, like there's even a single thing Steve wouldn't do if avoiding it meant failing his duty and oath to protect.
Which Danny knows all too well, because he's seen it in action a thousand times, in a thousand heart-stopping ways, when Steve's lack of self-preservation became damn near suicidal and far too close for comfort. Spiking Danny's blood pressure along the way. Throwing himself heedlessly into anything, whatever was required. When Danny knows Steve would give everything of himself he has, without question, and without looking back.
It drives him nuts, it really does. And if anyone ever asked, he'd be the first to say, loudly, at length, that he would be happy if Steve maybe thought, first, before diving headlong into the fray, or if Steve ever actually considered his own bodily well-being before doing the same, but that's that tiny part, small and sure, walled off from the storm of the rest that knows it's not true. Steve wouldn't be Steve if he were like that, and Danny --
Can't keep from pulling him closer, that smirk dragging itself across Steve's face like a green light beckoning him closer. Not when Steve's moving down, still sniping, and Danny's shaking his head even though his breath feels short. "What's the point of owning shoes I can't work in? Aren't the jeans bad enough? It's a waste of what is, I promise you, very limited bureau space."
And he could probably keep going, too, but Steve's bending down further and now Steve's mouth is on his and words dissolved into a sound that settles in Danny's chest, far quieter and nowhere near as argumentative.