It's probably true, but it's a difficult concept to wrap his head around, not knowing the level of crazy of which Steve is capable. You see a guy toss a suspect into a shark cage, hang another one off a roof, you kind of assume you've gotten right up there, right?
Not that it's an assumption he's made about Steve in a very long time. Not that he doesn't know, explicitly, that there are Steve's done, or thought about doing, that make the shark cage, the roof, the blowjob on the picnic table outside seem like child's play, like innocent misunderstandings, easily explainable, fully understandable. And he knows Steve's even been holding back, right, it's been a while since he did anything really insane to threaten anybody's physical well-being except his own.
(Every now and again Danny still wakes up in a cold sweat, imagining the pop-pop-pop of gunfire and a Kevlar vest that doesn't work.)
But if Steve can't stop being crazy, Danny can't stop pushing him, either. "So far I see a lot of talk and not a lot of action."
It's dangerous ground. He knows it. He knows it like he knows stepping onto black ice is either going to send him flat on his ass or underwater, hearing it crack and creak threateningly underfoot. Steve's mouth and cheek brush against him, and his hips jump, knock against the hands holding them down, and, Christ, this is already insane, Steve's lit a fire under his skin, shoved burning coals one by one into his stomach, and his thoughts are already starting to fracture into a high-pitched whine of want, sheer desire, mouth dry and the muscles in his throat working helplessly.
And he knows better. He truly does. He warns everyone they come into contact with not to challenge Steve, not to give him an in or an opening, because Steve never stops competing, never stops trying to win, to be the best, to shove everyone else off the path and trample whoever's left, still a terrible quarterback, the one who makes the run instead of the pass. So he knows better, and here he is, anyway, egging him on, taunting, pushing for it.
But, hell. If Steve's going to break him apart, it's going to be because Danny was asking for it.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2013-05-29 09:36 pm (UTC)It's probably true, but it's a difficult concept to wrap his head around, not knowing the level of crazy of which Steve is capable. You see a guy toss a suspect into a shark cage, hang another one off a roof, you kind of assume you've gotten right up there, right?
Not that it's an assumption he's made about Steve in a very long time. Not that he doesn't know, explicitly, that there are Steve's done, or thought about doing, that make the shark cage, the roof, the blowjob on the picnic table outside seem like child's play, like innocent misunderstandings, easily explainable, fully understandable. And he knows Steve's even been holding back, right, it's been a while since he did anything really insane to threaten anybody's physical well-being except his own.
(Every now and again Danny still wakes up in a cold sweat, imagining the pop-pop-pop of gunfire and a Kevlar vest that doesn't work.)
But if Steve can't stop being crazy, Danny can't stop pushing him, either. "So far I see a lot of talk and not a lot of action."
It's dangerous ground. He knows it. He knows it like he knows stepping onto black ice is either going to send him flat on his ass or underwater, hearing it crack and creak threateningly underfoot. Steve's mouth and cheek brush against him, and his hips jump, knock against the hands holding them down, and, Christ, this is already insane, Steve's lit a fire under his skin, shoved burning coals one by one into his stomach, and his thoughts are already starting to fracture into a high-pitched whine of want, sheer desire, mouth dry and the muscles in his throat working helplessly.
And he knows better. He truly does. He warns everyone they come into contact with not to challenge Steve, not to give him an in or an opening, because Steve never stops competing, never stops trying to win, to be the best, to shove everyone else off the path and trample whoever's left, still a terrible quarterback, the one who makes the run instead of the pass. So he knows better, and here he is, anyway, egging him on, taunting, pushing for it.
But, hell. If Steve's going to break him apart, it's going to be because Danny was asking for it.