Comes out heavy on a breath, against Steve's mouth, where he's leaning up to find it again, kisses getting clumsy and thoughtless. "They're not."
Broken. Not like the rest of him feels like it will soon be, but he's not there yet, and even though Steve's carding madness through his bloodstream, making crazy bubble through it like carbonation, Danny's not actually helpless. Steve may be bigger, taller, heavier, but Danny's not wilting daisy, and, more to the point, he has something Steve doesn't.
Leverage.
Which means he can push up with the shoulder closest to the TV, the foot that's flat on the couch cushion, and roll them both towards the inside of the couch. One hand is on Steve's hip, shoving him without preamble, unapologetically, toward's the couch's back, even as stars white out the inside of his head at the shift of pressure, at too much touch, at sudden space appearing between them.
The lack of continuous contact means he can work at Steve's belt and buckle and zipper, though, without trying to contend with Steve's weight, without getting his hand caught and crushed between them, and pinning Steve to the back of the couch means he's got more say in how this all goes down, too. Sure; they don't exactly fit like this, either, packed like sardines, but he just hooks a leg around Steve's and shoves hips, belly, chest up against him, and calls it a draw, hand snaking down once he's got Steve's belt and button undone, tugging at the zipper, the tented fabric that he runs a palm over in a way he tells himself isn't punishment, but isn't a hundred percent sure he isn't lying.
Not that Steve doesn't deserve everything he gets.
Sure. One arm gets partially pinned, but he solves that by sliding it under Steve's neck, slinging it around his shoulders, tugging him tight and close as his fingers navigate cotton to find skin, slick smooth hot hard, and he actually breathes out a sigh into Steve's mouth when his hand wraps, starts moving, up and down, thumb nudging the ring at the head before circling the pad around.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2013-05-25 12:18 am (UTC)Comes out heavy on a breath, against Steve's mouth, where he's leaning up to find it again, kisses getting clumsy and thoughtless. "They're not."
Broken. Not like the rest of him feels like it will soon be, but he's not there yet, and even though Steve's carding madness through his bloodstream, making crazy bubble through it like carbonation, Danny's not actually helpless. Steve may be bigger, taller, heavier, but Danny's not wilting daisy, and, more to the point, he has something Steve doesn't.
Leverage.
Which means he can push up with the shoulder closest to the TV, the foot that's flat on the couch cushion, and roll them both towards the inside of the couch. One hand is on Steve's hip, shoving him without preamble, unapologetically, toward's the couch's back, even as stars white out the inside of his head at the shift of pressure, at too much touch, at sudden space appearing between them.
The lack of continuous contact means he can work at Steve's belt and buckle and zipper, though, without trying to contend with Steve's weight, without getting his hand caught and crushed between them, and pinning Steve to the back of the couch means he's got more say in how this all goes down, too. Sure; they don't exactly fit like this, either, packed like sardines, but he just hooks a leg around Steve's and shoves hips, belly, chest up against him, and calls it a draw, hand snaking down once he's got Steve's belt and button undone, tugging at the zipper, the tented fabric that he runs a palm over in a way he tells himself isn't punishment, but isn't a hundred percent sure he isn't lying.
Not that Steve doesn't deserve everything he gets.
Sure. One arm gets partially pinned, but he solves that by sliding it under Steve's neck, slinging it around his shoulders, tugging him tight and close as his fingers navigate cotton to find skin, slick smooth hot hard, and he actually breathes out a sigh into Steve's mouth when his hand wraps, starts moving, up and down, thumb nudging the ring at the head before circling the pad around.
"They seem to work just fine. Huh?"