He's quiet. Or, well, operatively, it's quieter. Not quiet. Not gone. He hasn't checked out. He's wiggling around. Jumpy as well...a teenager, almost, though Steve tries to squash that thought. Because Danny is nothing like a teenager. Danny Williams. His partner. The most loyal, bull-heard, loud-mouthed, entirely failing but not failed at being self-sufficient, partner. Who is anything but a teenager.
With his damnedable wardrobe that is nothing like a teenagers and frequently make Steve feel like someone turned back the clock and made him one though. Made it so he can't deal sometimes with a pair a perfect sized pants and a long set of shirts that have to be custom made. Nothing fits like that. Even when custom isn't Danny, and it leaves Steve ache everywhere from his chest to his pants, like he just hit fourteen again, he still doesn't want them to go.
Because nothing about this is about teenagers. But Danny is in the middle of something so new Steve isn't even quite sure he can remember how 'new' felt the first time. Awkward? Strange? Odd? Rushed. Not the first time. But definitely the second first. When he knows it's all new for Danny. Every reaction, every impulse. When he's momentarily tensing his jaw when Danny is shifting his hips and moving against him, where Danny doesn't even seem to know, but it's tearing showers of electric sparks up the center of Steve's stomach, hazing out his vision for at least a full second.
Making his grip stick for a second, as Danny's is pulling on his face. Danny. Danny who suddenly needs something to move, to do, there's almost a frantic energy to it. His words, his face, the way he's breathing in and our faster than would have it getting much to his lungs at all. When he's kissing Steve like somehow he's going to miss all of this. Miss how he's cataloging the sprint of Danny's heartbeat into a slow racing gallop. The more serious, necessary grip of his fingers. The focus of his mouth. Needing Steve.
Needing Steve's attention, Steve's mouth, Steve to be there with him, have him, keep him floating from both ends. Even when he's returning the kiss rather than finding words to give back to Danny's. How he's shifting his finger in a wide circle, before pulling out. Before rubbing at his pointer finger before he's pressing down again with both. Stretching his fingers apart at the same time as pushing down now. Because this is only going one direction, now, and it's not backwards or slower.
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With his damnedable wardrobe that is nothing like a teenagers and frequently make Steve feel like someone turned back the clock and made him one though. Made it so he can't deal sometimes with a pair a perfect sized pants and a long set of shirts that have to be custom made. Nothing fits like that. Even when custom isn't Danny, and it leaves Steve ache everywhere from his chest to his pants, like he just hit fourteen again, he still doesn't want them to go.
Because nothing about this is about teenagers. But Danny is in the middle of something so new Steve isn't even quite sure he can remember how 'new' felt the first time. Awkward? Strange? Odd? Rushed. Not the first time. But definitely the second first. When he knows it's all new for Danny. Every reaction, every impulse. When he's momentarily tensing his jaw when Danny is shifting his hips and moving against him, where Danny doesn't even seem to know, but it's tearing showers of electric sparks up the center of Steve's stomach, hazing out his vision for at least a full second.
Making his grip stick for a second, as Danny's is pulling on his face. Danny. Danny who suddenly needs something to move, to do, there's almost a frantic energy to it. His words, his face, the way he's breathing in and our faster than would have it getting much to his lungs at all. When he's kissing Steve like somehow he's going to miss all of this. Miss how he's cataloging the sprint of Danny's heartbeat into a slow racing gallop. The more serious, necessary grip of his fingers. The focus of his mouth. Needing Steve.
Needing Steve's attention, Steve's mouth, Steve to be there with him, have him, keep him floating from both ends. Even when he's returning the kiss rather than finding words to give back to Danny's. How he's shifting his finger in a wide circle, before pulling out. Before rubbing at his pointer finger before he's pressing down again with both. Stretching his fingers apart at the same time as pushing down now. Because this is only going one direction, now, and it's not backwards or slower.