It's so simple for him. Suddenly; and a good half of all the time. All the times that weren't ten minutes back. Danny just pushes into his space, rearranges his world, flashes warm against his mouth the way a light flares blinds your eyes, without warning, leaving you staggered, and everything goes on while you're still stuck. Already muttering words, yawning and curling into his pillow. Cajoling the world, in this dwindling roar. Like he's all in charge, never had a second he wasn't.
Leaving something in Steve's chest stumbling, bumping along just a step too fast and too dizzy, disoriented, right into the walls, even for all his quiet, stillness. Focused on the way the last breaths take Danny's shoulders exaggeratedly up less and less, as he slips away. Trailing the warmth, still, into Steve's side. Muscles and lower ribs, movements slowly, like they are being pushed through mollasses, before, between one breath and the next that hand on Steve's back succumbs to being boneless and heavy. Laying there only only.
Like Steve, watching him, in clips and flashes until he's gone. Somewhere else. Able to find peace now. Leaving him alone with the night, the waves, the wind, the darkness, those heavy breaths coming into and out of Danny's body. But not alone the way he was supposed to be tonight. Doesn't leave the night any of the ways it was supposed to end. Danny fighting, pleading, giving himself in, over, to something even newer.
Steve doesn't, honestly, think he's tired, or if he is he's so tired it's somewhere out the other side of it. Combined with how watching a spec through vision goggles for a whole shift night of black sky, makes it so easy to just stare at his face in the dark only inches away. Like somehow if he closes his eyes, it'll all change, again, rearrange itself, again, and he barely even know what to do with what keeps being left in his hands at the end. How the outcome keeps break every expectation he walks into this with.
Can't ignore the confused tangle that says it should have gone, be gone, but isn't, and will be, if he just closes his eyes a second.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2013-06-08 02:15 pm (UTC)Leaving something in Steve's chest stumbling, bumping along just a step too fast and too dizzy, disoriented, right into the walls, even for all his quiet, stillness. Focused on the way the last breaths take Danny's shoulders exaggeratedly up less and less, as he slips away. Trailing the warmth, still, into Steve's side. Muscles and lower ribs, movements slowly, like they are being pushed through mollasses, before, between one breath and the next that hand on Steve's back succumbs to being boneless and heavy. Laying there only only.
Like Steve, watching him, in clips and flashes until he's gone. Somewhere else. Able to find peace now. Leaving him alone with the night, the waves, the wind, the darkness, those heavy breaths coming into and out of Danny's body. But not alone the way he was supposed to be tonight. Doesn't leave the night any of the ways it was supposed to end. Danny fighting, pleading, giving himself in, over, to something even newer.
Steve doesn't, honestly, think he's tired, or if he is he's so tired it's somewhere out the other side of it. Combined with how watching a spec through vision goggles for a whole shift night of black sky, makes it so easy to just stare at his face in the dark only inches away. Like somehow if he closes his eyes, it'll all change, again, rearrange itself, again, and he barely even know what to do with what keeps being left in his hands at the end. How the outcome keeps break every expectation he walks into this with.
Can't ignore the confused tangle that says it should have gone, be gone, but isn't, and will be, if he just closes his eyes a second.