He doesn't even know if deserves it, but Danny moves with him. Follows his hands, tipping back, staying close. There are no words, when Danny's lips part and Steve, if Steve ever had anything to his name, can't even watch the boards on the raft he was clinging to fray at their lines and divide, floating away beyond him. They are just suddenly swallowed whole.
There is no raft. There are no boards. There are words and there are ideas, they were so important, but they all falling away, slipping, falling, escaping, like water and sand through his fingers, when Danny's lips open. Taking more. More than a brush. More than a exhausted, scattered search. When the only reaction is instantaneous, and overwhelming, and obliterating.
Stepping even closer, until his knees are brushing Danny's, and his chest is bumping into arms.
Letting his hand slide back, into Danny's hair, to cup his head, and pull him closer, higher, up, more.
When it's insane but there's suddenly too much space in the world, too much space between them, when it wouldn't even explain it enough if he could carve himself open and pull Danny inside him to make him understand how important all of it is. How it's more important than anything. When he can't even thinking it, only feel it. Sudden, caustic and desperate in his veins.
The loss of him today, the loss of him a few months, the empty nights without him before he ever got back to Hawaii. All an endless slate of the same, that he's emptying into this kiss Danny opens. Because he gives a damn what happens. More than he knows what to do with it, or how to sleep or work with it at times. Because it would kill him, when decades of solitude and even prolonged torture hasn't killed him.
Because there's too much and it's contained in such a small space. In the hands of all the wrong people. But for this second, this one and maybe another few following it, Danny is back in his, and the words are gone, and he's still trying to say the very same thing in a way he doesn't even think he gets himself. Only that he can't let go, suddenly. No. He can't let go. All he can do is keep pulling Danny closer, like he might vanish if he does.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2013-05-04 12:25 am (UTC)There is no raft. There are no boards. There are words and there are ideas, they were so important, but they all falling away, slipping, falling, escaping, like water and sand through his fingers, when Danny's lips open. Taking more. More than a brush. More than a exhausted, scattered search. When the only reaction is instantaneous, and overwhelming, and obliterating.
Stepping even closer, until his knees are brushing Danny's, and his chest is bumping into arms.
Letting his hand slide back, into Danny's hair, to cup his head, and pull him closer, higher, up, more.
When it's insane but there's suddenly too much space in the world, too much space between them, when it wouldn't even explain it enough if he could carve himself open and pull Danny inside him to make him understand how important all of it is. How it's more important than anything. When he can't even thinking it, only feel it. Sudden, caustic and desperate in his veins.
The loss of him today, the loss of him a few months, the empty nights without him before he ever got back to Hawaii. All an endless slate of the same, that he's emptying into this kiss Danny opens. Because he gives a damn what happens. More than he knows what to do with it, or how to sleep or work with it at times. Because it would kill him, when decades of solitude and even prolonged torture hasn't killed him.
Because there's too much and it's contained in such a small space. In the hands of all the wrong people. But for this second, this one and maybe another few following it, Danny is back in his, and the words are gone, and he's still trying to say the very same thing in a way he doesn't even think he gets himself. Only that he can't let go, suddenly. No. He can't let go. All he can do is keep pulling Danny closer, like he might vanish if he does.