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Summary
It’s perfectly reasonable to have really hot sex with your best friend but not actually be in love. Right?
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If Danny, in the car on the way to catch the perp, let his hand linger near the edge of his seat, and if Steve definitely noticed, and let his rest a little bit back from the gear shift, and if their fingers brushed against one another, briefly... well. That was just a friendly reassurance. Just their way of saying, it’s okay.
Problem was, it really wasn’t okay. Because Steve nearly got shot, and Danny got punched hard, and Danny knew, as he slowly assessed the damage to his head before he got up, that it was all different now. The feeling he got in his chest, watching Steve get shot at, had never been a pleasant one. But it was nearly unbearable now. Probably that was why he’d gotten hit so hard. Because he was finding it incredibly hard to breathe, imagining Steve’s blood on the outside, and not the inside where it belonged. By the time Tani got to Danny, helped him up, checked his eyes, evidently deciding he was okay to continue on his own, he’d made an important decision.
One he didn’t get to act on for what felt like forever.
Eventually they wrapped the case up, and Lou suggested they do beers another time as it was late and this had been a rough day. Danny silently thanked him for the kindness, because by that point he was nearly vibrating with need. And something that felt new. Something that felt illicit and exciting and effervescent.