The leash is already starting to snap, because he can't hold that one in long enough to give it a once-over and make sure it doesn't snap too clearly, or leave his chest with the force of a fired bullet. He can't quite keep one hand from lifting, either, to make his point, though he can, still, keep the rest of himself down. In the chair. Like he's tied there. Which Steve said not to do, but fuck that, because he knew it and Steve told him no, told him yes, told him I want you and stay, wrote him an invitation.
If he didn't know it would get him made fun of, he could probably pull the damn thing out as evidence. Come to bed, idiotDanno idiot.
Written. Because Steve was impatient and Danny was hedging. But Steve knew. Steve didn't change his mind, turn around and show Danny the door, and now this?
No. No. Everyone has the right to a change of heart or mind, but no. He needs to stop the freeze creeping up his ribs, shattering icy fingers towards his heart. "No, no. I don't, actually, know that. I remember saying something similar weeks ago, and I remember that conversation going a very different way, and I very much do not remember you thinking this on Friday, so color me curious, Steve, about your sudden about-face, here."
Because he doesn't appreciate being dropped off a cliff, when he'd previously been assured he was in a nice, level, safe field. Doesn't like Steve shoving him there, or the freefall his stomach is taking, and, really, this isn't even the pertinent question.
But Danny can't ask. Doesn't want to know, hear it. Whether it's not shouldn't, but can't.
"So unless you're going to follow that up with 'we shouldn't be doing this, but I don't give a damn,' then I, for one, would really appreciate some clarification."
no subject
The leash is already starting to snap, because he can't hold that one in long enough to give it a once-over and make sure it doesn't snap too clearly, or leave his chest with the force of a fired bullet. He can't quite keep one hand from lifting, either, to make his point, though he can, still, keep the rest of himself down. In the chair. Like he's tied there. Which Steve said not to do, but fuck that, because he knew it and Steve told him no, told him yes, told him I want you and stay, wrote him an invitation.
If he didn't know it would get him made fun of, he could probably pull the damn thing out as evidence. Come to bed,
idiotDannoidiot.Written. Because Steve was impatient and Danny was hedging. But Steve knew. Steve didn't change his mind, turn around and show Danny the door, and now this?
No. No. Everyone has the right to a change of heart or mind, but no. He needs to stop the freeze creeping up his ribs, shattering icy fingers towards his heart. "No, no. I don't, actually, know that. I remember saying something similar weeks ago, and I remember that conversation going a very different way, and I very much do not remember you thinking this on Friday, so color me curious, Steve, about your sudden about-face, here."
Because he doesn't appreciate being dropped off a cliff, when he'd previously been assured he was in a nice, level, safe field. Doesn't like Steve shoving him there, or the freefall his stomach is taking, and, really, this isn't even the pertinent question.
But Danny can't ask. Doesn't want to know, hear it. Whether it's not shouldn't, but can't.
"So unless you're going to follow that up with 'we shouldn't be doing this, but I don't give a damn,' then I, for one, would really appreciate some clarification."