Steve snorts at the air. Only Danny, right? Could go from looking like he's studiously contemplating how to get the ceiling to help him sink through the whole bed, to focused entirely on getting his skin clean to away, away enough the thought might as well be flashing billboard of watching to see whether Danny's about to leap from the bed and make a run for it, whether it is the bathroom or the front door.
To snapping at him, short and sharp and ordering, like his not getting right back into bed fast enough is actually something to lob at Steve's head. So, yeah. Steve snorts, shaking his head, and standing up halfway, but only enough to grab the top of the now drastically rumpled and messed up blanket and tug it and the sheets under Danny. Getting into his own bed, like somehow anything about this spot is his. And not just his until and so long as Danny says it is or isn't.
When he can make it as far as pushing blanket out from under Danny, and dropped down on his mattress, maybe still far too warm for blankets, but not even keeping that though long enough. Dragging blankets over Danny like somehow that will do something toward keeping him over there. But really the only thing that ticks over is that a few inches is too much over there happening to between here and there, him and Danny.
And so he does the only thing he can think of, wants, hopes isn't wrong. Shifted closer toward Danny at the same time as he snakes a hand under the blankets, crossing Danny's stomach to latch on his other side and bodily drag him back into Steve's chest, at the same time as he's pushing in. Close enough that if anything is about to go down, it'll go down right all across him. But at least it'll be right here. Next him. Against him. Somehow unwinding one inch of his lungs to get more air and tightening another small knot in his shoulders, when he's stealing Danny and for this moment it really does feel like stealing him from something, somewhere else.
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To snapping at him, short and sharp and ordering, like his not getting right back into bed fast enough is actually something to lob at Steve's head. So, yeah. Steve snorts, shaking his head, and standing up halfway, but only enough to grab the top of the now drastically rumpled and messed up blanket and tug it and the sheets under Danny. Getting into his own bed, like somehow anything about this spot is his. And not just his until and so long as Danny says it is or isn't.
When he can make it as far as pushing blanket out from under Danny, and dropped down on his mattress, maybe still far too warm for blankets, but not even keeping that though long enough. Dragging blankets over Danny like somehow that will do something toward keeping him over there. But really the only thing that ticks over is that a few inches is too much over there happening to between here and there, him and Danny.
And so he does the only thing he can think of, wants, hopes isn't wrong. Shifted closer toward Danny at the same time as he snakes a hand under the blankets, crossing Danny's stomach to latch on his other side and bodily drag him back into Steve's chest, at the same time as he's pushing in. Close enough that if anything is about to go down, it'll go down right all across him. But at least it'll be right here. Next him. Against him. Somehow unwinding one inch of his lungs to get more air and tightening another small knot in his shoulders, when he's stealing Danny and for this moment it really does feel like stealing him from something, somewhere else.