This is normal. It is. Mostly. Even with the added difference of having Steve half under him, instead of a couch, while he waves the hand hold his beer a little lackadaisically. "Pulp Fiction is a cult classic," he corrects. "The others are just Tarantino movies, made popular by Tarantino fans. And that's beside the point, I never said I don't like Tarantino, I said he fetishizes violence, which is definitely true."

Particularly in these movies, and though he's got nothing against watching Uma Thurman single-handedly take on all comers and emerge blood-spattered and victorious, it's also not exactly his usual fare. "If I want to see a real brawl, I'll watch old hockey videos. And that couldn't be called pretty by even the most brain-dead of fans. Besides, swords seem so inefficient. I get that it's a personal touch, but wouldn't it be easier to just shoot them?"

At least this is easy enough to fall into; his complaints riffing off a throwaway comment, eventually meandering so far from Steve's original point that they aren't even recognizably connected anymore.

And he can roll his head back to glance at Steve, too, which is sort of nice. He can't watch the guy more than the TV, but it's not like they're both pretending that there's a non-existent stretch of couch between them, which is, Danny thinks, a step in the right direction.