It's a really long time before he can make himself fall asleep that night. The tent is small, and he can feel every movement Steve makes, every huff of air he lets out in his sleep. It's more peaceful than Danny had expected, granted, but in certain ways it's worse, too. Steve's proximity makes him think of things he'd thought he'd pushed away, things he can't keep feeling towards his partner -- the need to reach over and snuggle into a warm body, the body of someone he trusts unconditionally to keep him safe; to have someone's (Steve's, his mind whispers) soft breathing teasing the back of his neck, to feel every inhalation, every thump of a steady heartbeat against his back. So he likes to be the little spoon. So sue him. Problem is, Steve brings it out of him more than anyone he's ever known.
Eventually, he drifts off, somewhere between one wistful thought and the next.
---
Some time later, when the sudden warmth soothes his restless shifting, he settles down with a content sigh.
---
There's something heavy pinning him down through the middle of his body. He's still so warm and happy, though, that he doesn't snap awake like he usually does. A puff of air shifts the hairs at his nape, and the something at his waist pulls him backwards, plastered against a strong chest. Danny reaches out with his senses, checking for danger, and finds none. The smell is familiar, comforting, soothing, Steve, but stronger, deeper. Like maybe what Steve's skin would smell like when he's asleep.
Danny has never been at his sharpest in the mornings; that's why it takes him a full five minutes to work out just why he feels so comfortable
"Oh my god." He blinks a couple of times, and looks down in disbelief. Yep, it's right where he expects it -- Steve's arm heavy over his middle, fingers curled in, touching Danny's body through the unzipped sleeping bag.
Steve makes an unhappy sound when Danny pushes it off, and presses in closer against his back, slinging his arm right back where it was.
And Danny? Would be really happy to stay just like this, for a really damn long time -- which is the thought that finally makes him snap to full awareness.
He's maybe a second too late. The flap of the tent peels open and Grace bundles inside, falling over Danny's legs with a thump and climbing up his body like the monkey she is.
"Wake up, Danno!" she chirps happily. "Uncle Chin is making scrambled eggs and bacon!"
Danny feels the warmth at his back freeze before moving off as if scalded.
"Good morning, Steve!" Grace says, on her best behaviour.
"Good morning, Gracie," Steve rasps, rubbing at one eye and throwing Danny a questioning look out of the other.
Danny can't get out of the tent fast enough.
---
It's only when they're half-way out of the jungle and Danny is determinedly Not Talking About It, and doggedly ignoring the little glances Steve keeps sending his way, that he realises that it's the best sleep he's had in... Well. Since Grace was still a happy bundle of a four-year-old, curling up to nap with her Daddy. He can't speak for a full twenty minutes from the shock -- it lasts until Steve takes a sharp turn around a parked truck. Danny's relief at being able to yell at him about something carries him all the way back to his flat.
Re: The one where Danny can't sleep without Steve, 2/5
Eventually, he drifts off, somewhere between one wistful thought and the next.
---
Some time later, when the sudden warmth soothes his restless shifting, he settles down with a content sigh.
---
There's something heavy pinning him down through the middle of his body. He's still so warm and happy, though, that he doesn't snap awake like he usually does. A puff of air shifts the hairs at his nape, and the something at his waist pulls him backwards, plastered against a strong chest. Danny reaches out with his senses, checking for danger, and finds none. The smell is familiar, comforting, soothing, Steve, but stronger, deeper. Like maybe what Steve's skin would smell like when he's asleep.
Danny has never been at his sharpest in the mornings; that's why it takes him a full five minutes to work out just why he feels so comfortable
"Oh my god." He blinks a couple of times, and looks down in disbelief. Yep, it's right where he expects it -- Steve's arm heavy over his middle, fingers curled in, touching Danny's body through the unzipped sleeping bag.
Steve makes an unhappy sound when Danny pushes it off, and presses in closer against his back, slinging his arm right back where it was.
And Danny? Would be really happy to stay just like this, for a really damn long time -- which is the thought that finally makes him snap to full awareness.
He's maybe a second too late. The flap of the tent peels open and Grace bundles inside, falling over Danny's legs with a thump and climbing up his body like the monkey she is.
"Wake up, Danno!" she chirps happily. "Uncle Chin is making scrambled eggs and bacon!"
Danny feels the warmth at his back freeze before moving off as if scalded.
"Good morning, Steve!" Grace says, on her best behaviour.
"Good morning, Gracie," Steve rasps, rubbing at one eye and throwing Danny a questioning look out of the other.
Danny can't get out of the tent fast enough.
---
It's only when they're half-way out of the jungle and Danny is determinedly Not Talking About It, and doggedly ignoring the little glances Steve keeps sending his way, that he realises that it's the best sleep he's had in... Well. Since Grace was still a happy bundle of a four-year-old, curling up to nap with her Daddy. He can't speak for a full twenty minutes from the shock -- it lasts until Steve takes a sharp turn around a parked truck. Danny's relief at being able to yell at him about something carries him all the way back to his flat.
---