That sound is another example of things Steve would never manage to scour free from himself. The kind of sound that would haunt him, no matter where he went, if he could ever make it there. Which he's not sure he ever could. For all his prowess and history, he's not sure could. Not when the sound is guttering its way out of Danny, who's digging fingers into his scalp and his ribs, and kissing him hard and heavy with response.
Everything he shouldn't say, shouldn't let out, everything Cath will raze him over. And, fuck, if that isn't almost the reason to do it, too. Because he won't back down, or take it back. And she won't be wrong. And why isn't he saying it then. If it's beating in his head, and his veins, and his chest. Every god forsaken, over turned, ledger kicked out from under any footing the world has on the way to Danny. Obliterated in less than second.
That he didn't fight. That he isn't fighting now. That he doesn't have any plan to start doing so, even if he thinks of it.
Can't when Danny is adding words, agreeing with him. Breath rushed and kisses less than stable. Erratic. Made of electricity. Lighting everything up, when Steve is pushing up more. Going even more when Danny's hand is pulling at his shoulder. Like close is not close enough, might never be close enough. Even when he's shifting all his weight, pushing himself toward half sitting and Danny back into the bed.
Having to find the air to chuckle. Low, winded, actual amusement, like Danny is the insane one here. "Seriously?"
Steve lifted to look at him, head on and challenging, smirk totally there even for the dark. "I'm already breaking all the other rules." How is there something insanely liberating in actually saying it. Something that isn't even more like cuffs. He is. They are. They are. Together. Still. Doing this. Breaking every rule. Acknowledging that it's fucking insane, very likely unmanageable in the long run, and still doing it. Still. They both fo them. Together, even in that.
It just shoves the shard and the sarcasm richer, when he's towering over Danny. Mouth firming, eyebrows raising and falling, when he's speaking like he hasn't a single shred of shame or collateral reference. "Next you'll be telling me you still won't let me set off grenades in my own backyard, too."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2013-03-02 06:30 am (UTC)Everything he shouldn't say, shouldn't let out, everything Cath will raze him over. And, fuck, if that isn't almost the reason to do it, too. Because he won't back down, or take it back. And she won't be wrong. And why isn't he saying it then. If it's beating in his head, and his veins, and his chest. Every god forsaken, over turned, ledger kicked out from under any footing the world has on the way to Danny. Obliterated in less than second.
That he didn't fight. That he isn't fighting now. That he doesn't have any plan to start doing so, even if he thinks of it.
Can't when Danny is adding words, agreeing with him. Breath rushed and kisses less than stable. Erratic. Made of electricity. Lighting everything up, when Steve is pushing up more. Going even more when Danny's hand is pulling at his shoulder. Like close is not close enough, might never be close enough. Even when he's shifting all his weight, pushing himself toward half sitting and Danny back into the bed.
Having to find the air to chuckle. Low, winded, actual amusement, like Danny is the insane one here. "Seriously?"
Steve lifted to look at him, head on and challenging, smirk totally there even for the dark. "I'm already breaking all the other rules." How is there something insanely liberating in actually saying it. Something that isn't even more like cuffs. He is. They are. They are. Together. Still. Doing this. Breaking every rule. Acknowledging that it's fucking insane, very likely unmanageable in the long run, and still doing it. Still. They both fo them. Together, even in that.
It just shoves the shard and the sarcasm richer, when he's towering over Danny. Mouth firming, eyebrows raising and falling, when he's speaking like he hasn't a single shred of shame or collateral reference. "Next you'll be telling me you still won't let me set off grenades in my own backyard, too."