There's that arrogance back again, soaking into every word and insult, suggesting there's no part of this Steve won't hit out of the ballpark, just like he does with everything else.

"It is hilarious to me that you think 'good behavior' is on the list of things anybody anywhere could actually expect from you."

Because Steve is purposely ignoring the fact that it doesn't work like that, one month in and halfway there doesn't mean it'll just double by the time the two month mark rolls around. Except Steve's joking about making it two months. Which hits a soft jolt to his sternum, because nobody's even made faint allusions to any kind of continuation, yet; those conversations had been fraught with tension and then degraded into stupid jokes from Steve, and the topic just hasn't come up.

Which makes Danny kind of want to nudge at it, carefully, like it might accidentally get shoved off the tabletop and smash on the floor if he even breathes on it too hard. Who knows what might happen in a month? "We'll reassess at a later date. I want to see some of this so-called 'effort' you think you can put in."

Shoveling derisive disbelief onto Steve's shoulder, and slipping back, finally, to find space on the pillow, breathe air that's not flavored by Steve's skin. The gorilla that had been sitting on his chest has apparently decided to move elsewhere, and he's okay with that, but he's not moving far, either. Unwilling to break this cocoon, where everything's fine, and panic can't find its way past Steve's barrier arm or the low comfortable rumble of his voice.