"I got one, if it'll help," Steve gave a direct, short, kick of movement with his head, gesturing with his chin, toward the door leading from his bedroom on to the wide porch, with the thin rails that would actually hold a marginal amount of body weight. But it was very suspect, the whole idea if might hold his body weight and someone else's on the fulcrum of the railings. It'd probably be a really messy way to meet the backyard more than anything else.
"Maybe if you stop feeding me crap, I'll be nice enough not to remind you it was your idea, when you're trying not to fall off it."
It's smack, and it's starting to get sharper the longer this drags, but he doesn't move anywhere toward the door. He doesn't even take a step, or move an inch away in any direction. Not even shift, loosen or tighten his fingers on Danny's face. Because, it's not like Danny's actually fighting him. He's just digging in. Heels down, flush under whatever the hell he can drag between them, even if it's snarky words and thrown insults to his technique for the job.
Especially when at least, for this second, Danny is letting it slip that there is something. If only in the fact he's not denying it. He's just criticizing Steve's words and the actions he's going about trying to get at the whatever it is. Like badgering and insulting Steve will help him anymore than the long string of denials. "What the hell, Danny?"
Because things were absolutely fine minutes ago. Maybe not absolutely fine for the whole time since Danny got here. With Cath, and the front yard, and all that. Before definitely they had still been ten or fifteen minutes ago. Now all he knows is that something is wrong, or at least it is for Danny, that could really only have to with them or them. While Danny is really just giving out sign after sign he'd like to forget whatever it is, wants Steve to just pretend it isn't there or ignore whatever it is and bulldoze right over.
But. Okay. See. The last thing he's ever been able to do, for any of this year, is ignore anything about Danny.
Especially when he's torn between wanting to shake him by the shoulders or kiss him because he's certain either would elicit something real.
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"Maybe if you stop feeding me crap, I'll be nice enough not to remind you it was your idea, when you're trying not to fall off it."
It's smack, and it's starting to get sharper the longer this drags, but he doesn't move anywhere toward the door. He doesn't even take a step, or move an inch away in any direction. Not even shift, loosen or tighten his fingers on Danny's face. Because, it's not like Danny's actually fighting him. He's just digging in. Heels down, flush under whatever the hell he can drag between them, even if it's snarky words and thrown insults to his technique for the job.
Especially when at least, for this second, Danny is letting it slip that there is something. If only in the fact he's not denying it. He's just criticizing Steve's words and the actions he's going about trying to get at the whatever it is. Like badgering and insulting Steve will help him anymore than the long string of denials. "What the hell, Danny?"
Because things were absolutely fine minutes ago. Maybe not absolutely fine for the whole time since Danny got here. With Cath, and the front yard, and all that. Before definitely they had still been ten or fifteen minutes ago. Now all he knows is that something is wrong, or at least it is for Danny, that could really only have to with them or them. While Danny is really just giving out sign after sign he'd like to forget whatever it is, wants Steve to just pretend it isn't there or ignore whatever it is and bulldoze right over.
But. Okay. See. The last thing he's ever been able to do, for any of this year, is ignore anything about Danny.
Especially when he's torn between wanting to shake him by the shoulders or kiss him because he's certain either would elicit something real.