Out come the nicknames and insults, that badgered tone, that shouldn't be making Steve smile. But it's totally happening, outside of his control. At least one edge of his mouth is definitely crooked up, the muscle all tense and lifted, while he's watching Danny like there is nothing on his tv that could ever be as compelling as him going off on the most trivial, unimportant, they'll forget it in twenty minutes, if even that, detail.
He, almost says yes, to the diagram. If only because it means Danny won't shut the hell up. He'll just keep going. Him, and his waving hands, and his hair that keeps flopping this way and that when he jerks his head to say something. Gone from the perfectly formed smoothed back. But he doesn't need to, because Danny just keeps on going. Spurred to a roll, meaning Steve really doesn't even need to put in his yes to keep it going.
Sometimes he does, and sometimes Danny can just get on to a tangent and go like a dog with a bone for a good five or ten minutes, with nothing more than a few sounds that imitate Steve having any reaction Danny thinks belongs to the complaining. None of which probably give away this reaction any more than this time seems to be, when Danny settles in a shoving huff. Back against the couch, and his arm, and him.
Steve doesn't have any idea how it does it, but seriously the whole thing, snaps something in his chest. Gone all messy and warm, slapping waves up everywhere inside his chest, and making it not seem like he needs to stop himself. He drags Danny closer than the part of his arm and his shoulder Danny is currently sort of starting to lay out ownership signs on.
But closer. Close enough he's sort of dwarfing part of Danny's shoulder, to lean over and say, almost close enough to be touching the side of his head, almost close enough Danny's heads would barely need a shift to turn and end up in the crook of his shoulder and neck, but not, and not whispering at all, but still quiet. A current of dark amusement touching all the corners of his voice, "Pretty sure I haven't said anything in at least a minute or two."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2013-05-08 01:13 am (UTC)He, almost says yes, to the diagram. If only because it means Danny won't shut the hell up. He'll just keep going. Him, and his waving hands, and his hair that keeps flopping this way and that when he jerks his head to say something. Gone from the perfectly formed smoothed back. But he doesn't need to, because Danny just keeps on going. Spurred to a roll, meaning Steve really doesn't even need to put in his yes to keep it going.
Sometimes he does, and sometimes Danny can just get on to a tangent and go like a dog with a bone for a good five or ten minutes, with nothing more than a few sounds that imitate Steve having any reaction Danny thinks belongs to the complaining. None of which probably give away this reaction any more than this time seems to be, when Danny settles in a shoving huff. Back against the couch, and his arm, and him.
Steve doesn't have any idea how it does it, but seriously the whole thing, snaps something in his chest. Gone all messy and warm, slapping waves up everywhere inside his chest, and making it not seem like he needs to stop himself. He drags Danny closer than the part of his arm and his shoulder Danny is currently sort of starting to lay out ownership signs on.
But closer. Close enough he's sort of dwarfing part of Danny's shoulder, to lean over and say, almost close enough to be touching the side of his head, almost close enough Danny's heads would barely need a shift to turn and end up in the crook of his shoulder and neck, but not, and not whispering at all, but still quiet. A current of dark amusement touching all the corners of his voice, "Pretty sure I haven't said anything in at least a minute or two."