It's easy to watch Danny's disbelief flash fast across his face first, like there's no way that's possible. Before it sinks in and Steve doesn't know if the expression following that one has any even vaguely deeper understanding of the fact it's true. Of how true it actually is. Of how it would take so much more -- a kind of more he can't even quantitatively add or point to, but more -- before they'd hit Steve needing anything.
Find something he couldn't live without. At least not the way how looking down in Danny's face does. The way feeling Danny's fingers smooth out under his skin invading it again, causing him to tighten his muscles and stretch his spine, pushing into Danny's chest with his own and hand still trapped there, does. When he was so ready to find the way to live without all of this only seconds ago.
Against the way right now he would snap someone's fingers and part the pieces of their larynx individually for speaking a single word against this or trying to pull them apart. When it feels insanely like Danny is the only thing on the planet that can anchor him to it. But Steve can let that though vanish like a balloon a child accidentally letting go of a ballon when Danny smiles.
The way the tug of his lips demands everything in Steve's head. Shoving awkward warmth into that tight space, tugging him from being that space and more pulling him out from being smothered by it. When he's not going to prove or make that same point again. Maybe not any of the ones that have left his mouth recently. When its easier to stretch his hand and shift so he run his fingers over the muscles in Danny's chest. His ribs. The constant heart beat rising and dropping his skin.
"Yeah?" Steve's mouth seems to be following Danny's, but when as that ever been news. That he's starting to smirk with an outlandish kind of exasperation that at the very edges might look like is only paint trying to cover very rusty affection. "And what are those?"
And whose are they exactly. His on his list, or Danny's own list and answer to that question? Any question.
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Find something he couldn't live without. At least not the way how looking down in Danny's face does. The way feeling Danny's fingers smooth out under his skin invading it again, causing him to tighten his muscles and stretch his spine, pushing into Danny's chest with his own and hand still trapped there, does. When he was so ready to find the way to live without all of this only seconds ago.
Against the way right now he would snap someone's fingers and part the pieces of their larynx individually for speaking a single word against this or trying to pull them apart. When it feels insanely like Danny is the only thing on the planet that can anchor him to it. But Steve can let that though vanish like a balloon a child accidentally letting go of a ballon when Danny smiles.
The way the tug of his lips demands everything in Steve's head. Shoving awkward warmth into that tight space, tugging him from being that space and more pulling him out from being smothered by it. When he's not going to prove or make that same point again. Maybe not any of the ones that have left his mouth recently. When its easier to stretch his hand and shift so he run his fingers over the muscles in Danny's chest. His ribs. The constant heart beat rising and dropping his skin.
"Yeah?" Steve's mouth seems to be following Danny's, but when as that ever been news. That he's starting to smirk with an outlandish kind of exasperation that at the very edges might look like is only paint trying to cover very rusty affection. "And what are those?"
And whose are they exactly. His on his list, or Danny's own list and answer to that question? Any question.