It's like a landslide but from under him. His mind is already trying to boil between his ears, when Danny is already hungrily kissing him back. Like there isn't anything else in existence anymore. Not the movie. Not the world outside the window. Drowning through a new round of screams. Pouring lava into Steve's mouth, down his throat, making him greedy, stealing the air from him, leaning in, driving his head more into the cushion, making Steve start to shift only to get slammed.
With hands coming up his sides and his back, pulling and pushing him down like those hands have got bricks weighted in them. Like something that just had it's bond loosed. Snapped. Suddenly. Hands digging into the muscles over his ribs, forcing him down, until his chest is against Danny's, and he's trying to get a hand somewhere, on the cushion next to Danny's head for some leverage that isn't just toppling face forward. Even if it seems to be the one message Danny's hands are sure of.
Steve couldn't care less about the rest, even the shrieking muscles, but there isn't room like this to fall, and falling on Danny's face, full impact? Is probably the least helpful thing that could come out of this exact moment. Even when the desperation and sureness in those fingers, is searing in against the skin, under such a thin layer of fabric, where they are. The want that just screams out from it, too. Which just fills up Steve's chest, like too much water and too much sunlight.
Like alcohol which a match being waved right above it. Shoving at it. Dragging it down and in and more. More, now.
Making him nearly laugh, and ask, arrogantly accusing, against Danny's lips, like Danny is the one being a distracting -- "Problem?"
Pulling back enough, straining against hands on his back, even when it's easy to leave his stomach pressed into Danny's, to barely rock his hips when he lifting to ask it. Looking not even the smallest bit concerned or remorseful about the words about to fall out of Danny's mouth. Not at all like he wants to fix Danny's problems. Blue eyes gone wide and darker, licking at his bottom lip before furrowing his teeth across it quick.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2013-05-16 02:54 am (UTC)With hands coming up his sides and his back, pulling and pushing him down like those hands have got bricks weighted in them. Like something that just had it's bond loosed. Snapped. Suddenly. Hands digging into the muscles over his ribs, forcing him down, until his chest is against Danny's, and he's trying to get a hand somewhere, on the cushion next to Danny's head for some leverage that isn't just toppling face forward. Even if it seems to be the one message Danny's hands are sure of.
Steve couldn't care less about the rest, even the shrieking muscles, but there isn't room like this to fall, and falling on Danny's face, full impact? Is probably the least helpful thing that could come out of this exact moment. Even when the desperation and sureness in those fingers, is searing in against the skin, under such a thin layer of fabric, where they are. The want that just screams out from it, too. Which just fills up Steve's chest, like too much water and too much sunlight.
Like alcohol which a match being waved right above it. Shoving at it. Dragging it down and in and more. More, now.
Making him nearly laugh, and ask, arrogantly accusing, against Danny's lips, like Danny is the one being a distracting -- "Problem?"
Pulling back enough, straining against hands on his back, even when it's easy to leave his stomach pressed into Danny's, to barely rock his hips when he lifting to ask it. Looking not even the smallest bit concerned or remorseful about the words about to fall out of Danny's mouth. Not at all like he wants to fix Danny's problems. Blue eyes gone wide and darker, licking at his bottom lip before furrowing his teeth across it quick.