The badge he wears, the things he's not supposed to do. People he isn't supposed to want. Not because Steve is a guy. Because Steve is his partner. Because Steve is, in all the ways that matter in a situation like this, his boss.
Steve's fingers, leaving his hair, allowing Danny to shift. Not missing them, exactly. Glad for the ability to move, because now that the first words are out and they're actually, sort of, talking about this, he wants to leave the warm curve of Steve's neck and prop himself up enough to look down and see Steve's face, meet his eyes. The hardest part is done, starting. Now it's a conversation. Kind of.
Sure. It has Steve rubbing at his eyes, talking in a tone that's less dejected and more resigned, knowing what's coming and not looking forward to it, but not avoiding it, either, and Danny's sort of relieved that Steve picked that part to continue with, and not the others. Isn't telling him you're crazy, Danny, or lifting his eyebrows incredulously at the bizarre leaps of non-logic Danny can take with such perfect ease.
All of that is awful, alright. But it's awful in a time that hasn't happened yet, whereas this part -- Cath, knowing. Them knowing. Because they do. They know this shouldn't be happening, and not for any subjective personal reason, alright. Because it is actually against the rules. The Book. The one Danny loves and clings to with an iron grip, because the things that happen when he doesn't scare the crap out of him. To be frank.
Not that he wants Steve shaking his head or rubbing at his forehead, but as reactions go, it's not terrible. The room is quiet and his head is calming down and they're still here, with everything to acknowledge, if not talk about. Rules. Definitions. Who knows. Who should know. What they'll say when people keep asking about the girlfriend Kono thinks he has, or when the others assume Cath is staying with Steve. "There are plenty of people who will definitely agree with her if they find out."
If. Because who knows if they'll end up telling anyone. The idea starts a cold wash skating over his heart -- it's one more step, a serious step. Telling people. Making it real, outside this house. Bringing it into work, into the few parts of their lives that are separate.
Like telling Grace.
Like telling Rachel.
Like having it show up in one of his court appearances, or being used as ammunition by one of Rachel's attorneys. Because it will. It's too good for them to not use. Upstanding cop? You mean this guy? The one sleeping with his boss?
Yeah. He can't wait for that to get added to the reasons why he's unfit to parent his daughter.
no subject
The badge he wears, the things he's not supposed to do. People he isn't supposed to want. Not because Steve is a guy. Because Steve is his partner. Because Steve is, in all the ways that matter in a situation like this, his boss.
Steve's fingers, leaving his hair, allowing Danny to shift. Not missing them, exactly. Glad for the ability to move, because now that the first words are out and they're actually, sort of, talking about this, he wants to leave the warm curve of Steve's neck and prop himself up enough to look down and see Steve's face, meet his eyes. The hardest part is done, starting. Now it's a conversation. Kind of.
Sure. It has Steve rubbing at his eyes, talking in a tone that's less dejected and more resigned, knowing what's coming and not looking forward to it, but not avoiding it, either, and Danny's sort of relieved that Steve picked that part to continue with, and not the others. Isn't telling him you're crazy, Danny, or lifting his eyebrows incredulously at the bizarre leaps of non-logic Danny can take with such perfect ease.
All of that is awful, alright. But it's awful in a time that hasn't happened yet, whereas this part -- Cath, knowing. Them knowing. Because they do. They know this shouldn't be happening, and not for any subjective personal reason, alright. Because it is actually against the rules. The Book. The one Danny loves and clings to with an iron grip, because the things that happen when he doesn't scare the crap out of him. To be frank.
Not that he wants Steve shaking his head or rubbing at his forehead, but as reactions go, it's not terrible. The room is quiet and his head is calming down and they're still here, with everything to acknowledge, if not talk about. Rules. Definitions. Who knows. Who should know. What they'll say when people keep asking about the girlfriend Kono thinks he has, or when the others assume Cath is staying with Steve. "There are plenty of people who will definitely agree with her if they find out."
If. Because who knows if they'll end up telling anyone. The idea starts a cold wash skating over his heart -- it's one more step, a serious step. Telling people. Making it real, outside this house. Bringing it into work, into the few parts of their lives that are separate.
Like telling Grace.
Like telling Rachel.
Like having it show up in one of his court appearances, or being used as ammunition by one of Rachel's attorneys. Because it will. It's too good for them to not use. Upstanding cop? You mean this guy? The one sleeping with his boss?
Yeah. He can't wait for that to get added to the reasons why he's unfit to parent his daughter.