(Oh Tumblr, why do you give me so many terrible and amazing things)

Jun 03, 2011 16:57

Sooo this picture is okay (and by okay, I mean "Hold still OLough so I can climb you like a vested tree"):


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(h50 - served with pineapple and ham, -look at this if you don't believe me, -ugh why am i attracted to this

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part...next queenklu June 7 2011, 05:25:50 UTC
Alright, here's where i buckle down and get srs. and tipsy, fair warning. whee!porn!

Danny drives them to Steve’s place, because Steve is too jittery to sit still, let alone handle a car on dark, winding roads. He keeps shifting in his seat, dragging his hands down his thighs, almost like he is a junkie needing a fix. Maybe he’s still playing the part.

Maybe Danny needs to watch the road and not drive them into the gutter where his brain is residing, fuck. Still-

“Stop,” Danny says, which is a pretty normal thing for him to do, but he reaches over and clasps Steve’s jittering knee when he says it, which is not. Steve goes absolutely mind-meltingly still, instantly, splays his legs a little wider and gives Danny a grin that Danny can see out of the corner of his eye where he is very steadfastly not looking.

“How did I do?” Steve asks, slouching down just a little so Danny’s hand edges up his thigh. “Did I make a good twink?”

“Jesus,” Danny hisses, snatches his hand back before he does something monumentally stupid. Steve laughs, a low rumble, and then they’re in Steve’s driveway and Danny has nothing left to do but put the car in park. No, that’s not true, he could idle, he could wait for Steve to get out and then drive like the wind away from this thing they’re falling head over heels into. This thing that's making Danny's heart pound and his palms sweat. This thing that wants to put Steve on the ground and mount him.

There’s a knock on Danny’s window, and Danny jumps, hard, before he realizes it’s just Steve. That Danny has been panicking himself up so hard that Steve has moved and Danny hadn’t noticed.

Steve knocks again, a brief rap of knuckles on the glass, and Danny doesn’t know why he rolls the window down, but he does. Steve braces an arm on the roof, leans in, head ducked low, and all the air vanishes from Danny’s lungs. He can smell Steve mixed with the heady scent of wet Hawaiian rainforest, can see the dangerous colors behind the dark smudge of Steve eyelashes as he pins Danny in and just looks at him.

“You, ah,” Steve drags his thumb across his spit-damp bottom lip without breaking eye-contact. “You looking for some company?”

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