Actions

Work Header

Thinking

Work Text:

Danny stood in the bathroom doorway, hands perched against the frame. “I don’t think you’re supposed to know what I’m thinking.”

By this point in his life, Steve had known Danny long enough that he wasn’t at all phased by the sudden leap back to a conversation they’d supposedly ended several hours before. “You say that now, but your face says otherwise.” He spat out the toothpaste, rinsing his mouth. “And don’t try to tell me you don’t have faces. I can list them for you, if you want.”

“Oh, really?” Danny sounded amused. “So you don’t make faces, but I somehow do?”

“I’m completely stoic at all times,” Steve said, as if his lips weren’t already curving up. “You’re the seething pit of emotion in this relationship.”

“Anyone in their right mind would be a seething pit of emotion after having to chase you around all these years,” Danny shot back, heading into the bathroom to lean against the counter while Steve rinsed out his toothbrush. “But unlike you, I’m a mature human being who uses his words. My face is irrelevant to the situation.”

“But you don’t always use your words,” Steve corrected, dropping his toothbrush in the holder next to Danny’s. “Sometimes, you just make that face that suggests you’re trying to beam them directly into my brain, and are annoyed I’m not hearing them.”

Danny made an exasperated noise. “That’s not—“ He stopped, brow lowering. “That’s what happens all those times you prod me into talking about something? You see it on my face?”

“Yeah.” Steve stopped, thrown a little by the confusion still clear on Danny’s face. He would have expected a denial – Steve had been denying his own “faces” for years – but Danny just looked surprised. “Your brow lowers, and you kind of stare off into the middle distance like you’re focusing on something that isn’t in the car.”

If anything, Danny looked even more confused. “That’s it?”

Steve shifted around to face his husband, almost annoyed now. He’d been accused before of having the emotional acuity of a brick, but Danny should know him better than that. “You’ve catalogued each and every one of my eyebrow twitches, and that’s not including the way you can apparently predict what’s happening on the other end of the phone from the way I’m gesturing. Is it really so weird that I’ve done the same thing to you?”

“That’s....” Danny’s face shifted, softening. “No, it’s not.” Then he sighed. “I acknowledge that I may make a face of some kind. But it’s not because I’m annoyed you don’t know what I’m thinking. I’m not actually signaling you at all. It's just...” He waved his hands. “...general brooding. You of all people should understand that.”

Steve let the brooding comment go, knowing it was an attempt at distraction. Besides, he didn’t brood. He just... thought about serious things while staring off into the distance. “But you’re not talking when you make the face,” Steve protested. “You always talk.”

An unexpectedly fragile expression flickered across Danny’s face. “Sometimes,” he began, in a tone that tried for joke territory but didn’t quite make it, “and I know it’s very strange to think I’ve actually processed this, sometimes people prefer it when I don’t talk. Occasionally, I try to actually do that. The face just....” He lifted his hands helplessly, looking oddly lost as he met Steve’s eyes. “I didn’t know about the face. If I made it before you, no one ever seemed to notice.”

Steve had thought he’d known all of Danny’s raw places by this point, and it bothered him a little that he hadn’t recognized this one. Still, he knew exactly how handle it.

“I always notice you,” Steve said softly, gaze locked with Danny’s as he moved closer. “And you know perfectly well I love hearing you talk.”

Danny let out a shaky breath. “You’re going to regret saying that at some point, babe.”

He bent down for a quick, soft kiss, hand sliding up underneath Danny’s t-shirt so he could reach skin. “No, I’m not,” he murmured as they broke apart. “And I always want to know what you’re thinking.” He smiled a little. “Even if you’re completely wrong.”

“You only think I’m wrong because—“ Danny stopped, something that looked almost like wonder in his eyes. “No, I’m too full of emotions right now to harass you properly.” He pushed Steve back a little, hopped up so that he was sitting on the counter, then tugged Steve closer again. “Instead, I’m going to change my earlier answer and admit that I’m thankful for you every single day of my life.”

Steve’s chest warmed. “Really?”

“Really.” Danny tugged him down to resume the kiss, then grinned when they broke apart. “Enough that I will pay for your driving lessons when you inevitably fail your next test.”

Steve grinned back. “If you’re so sure I’m a terrible driver, why do you keep letting me drive your car?”

“Stockholm Syndrome.” Then his expression softened again. “Plus, there’s the little fact that I love you.”

Steve bent down for another kiss. “Which I am always thankful for.”