Danny hates planes. They're cramped and noisy and there's not much in the way of entertainment at thirty thousand feet. He catches himself thinking he'd rather be cursing a blue streak at Steve as they go into a firefight with backup still ten minutes away and sighs as he lets his head tip against the window. He blames the plane.
He'd told everyone that his flight was getting in tomorrow, had hoped to go straight to his apartment and sleep for twelve hours straight. But the taxi he takes stops in front of a familiar house, not his apartment, and Danny figures that Steve's couch is probably just as comfortable as his bed anyway and pays the driver.
It's still early evening and Danny doesn't expect Steve to actually be home yet--apparently, Super SEAL doesn't need to sleep or something, if the hours he puts in at work mean anything--but he knocks anyway. HE's about ready to go locate the extra key and let himself in when the door opens and Steve's standing there, something fuzzy tucked in one arm.
"Danny?"
"Hey, babe," Danny drawls and geez, he must look like crap if Steve's got that face on. Danny can't quite remember what name he gave this one. "Planes suck. Is your couch comfortable?"
Steve blinks, but steps aside and Danny stumbles in, suddenly feeling the last fourteen hours. "Yeah, I think it is," Steve says. Danny's not sure what he's talking about. "Danny are you--"
"Sleep," Danny says firmly. "I need sleep. And Steve--" He turns, intending to say something, but his suitcase is right there and he trips. He lands on Steve, at least, and not the floor and Steve has one arm around his shoulders and manages to stay upright, which is good. And he's warm and oddly comfortable, for being a guy with muscles. "Oh. I think I'll just sleep here, okay?" Danny mumbles.
Steve laughs, vibrating against Danny. "I think we need to get you into bed," he says and Danny would agree, except he's comfortable and way too tired right now. "Come on, upstairs. I've got something way better than a couch."
Somehow, they make it upstairs without Danny actually falling asleep, but he doesn't quite get his tie off before he falls onto the bed. Something tugs at his neck, then his feet, but Danny's mostly gone and doesn't even open his eyes. The feel of something walking up his back rouses him enough to lift his head and peer blearily over his shoulder, though.
"Whassat?"
"Cat," Steve explains. "C'mere, you." And the small points of pressure disappear and the light's out and Danny's gone gone gone.
Fill! 3/4(dangit) - Danny
He'd told everyone that his flight was getting in tomorrow, had hoped to go straight to his apartment and sleep for twelve hours straight. But the taxi he takes stops in front of a familiar house, not his apartment, and Danny figures that Steve's couch is probably just as comfortable as his bed anyway and pays the driver.
It's still early evening and Danny doesn't expect Steve to actually be home yet--apparently, Super SEAL doesn't need to sleep or something, if the hours he puts in at work mean anything--but he knocks anyway. HE's about ready to go locate the extra key and let himself in when the door opens and Steve's standing there, something fuzzy tucked in one arm.
"Danny?"
"Hey, babe," Danny drawls and geez, he must look like crap if Steve's got that face on. Danny can't quite remember what name he gave this one. "Planes suck. Is your couch comfortable?"
Steve blinks, but steps aside and Danny stumbles in, suddenly feeling the last fourteen hours. "Yeah, I think it is," Steve says. Danny's not sure what he's talking about. "Danny are you--"
"Sleep," Danny says firmly. "I need sleep. And Steve--" He turns, intending to say something, but his suitcase is right there and he trips. He lands on Steve, at least, and not the floor and Steve has one arm around his shoulders and manages to stay upright, which is good. And he's warm and oddly comfortable, for being a guy with muscles. "Oh. I think I'll just sleep here, okay?" Danny mumbles.
Steve laughs, vibrating against Danny. "I think we need to get you into bed," he says and Danny would agree, except he's comfortable and way too tired right now. "Come on, upstairs. I've got something way better than a couch."
Somehow, they make it upstairs without Danny actually falling asleep, but he doesn't quite get his tie off before he falls onto the bed. Something tugs at his neck, then his feet, but Danny's mostly gone and doesn't even open his eyes. The feel of something walking up his back rouses him enough to lift his head and peer blearily over his shoulder, though.
"Whassat?"
"Cat," Steve explains. "C'mere, you." And the small points of pressure disappear and the light's out and Danny's gone gone gone.