haolehothead | (no subject)

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- game: tabula rasa

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After the morning he's had, Danny's not exactly looking to go out into the world very soon. He's put on a pair of Steve's Navy sweats (with the word so helpfully plastered across his ass) and has been ambling around the house with just a tank top. He's waiting to head out to the diamond and give some baseball lessons, but that's still hours away.

For now, he's just trying to keep Zulu in his sights, Steve in the other room, and his mouth closed. It's not that he's said anything too incriminating (except, god, the thing about liking to be picked up), but he doesn't want to push his luck. He's cleaning up the main room and crouching down to pat Zulu every once in a while, checking the books they've managed to accumulate. Anything he doesn't want goes on the porch for the next haul back.

He's in the midst of bringing another five or six out when he sees Rachel. "Hey," he greets, lifting a hand to wave at her. "Where're you going?"

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"I can't talk to you if you're just gonna keep giving me this," Danny admits, looking (and sounding) lost. He settles back on the bed with his back against the wall and his arms draped around his bent knees. "You're making excuses because you're scared, I get it. I just don't see where you're getting your proof from, because your behavior here is decent."

"I don't need proof," she argues weakly as she slowly deflates. He's right. What he says makes sense. But it doesn't make her feel any better about this.

"I just don't want to disappoint you guys. I don't want you to go away."

"I'm not going anywhere until this place sends me." Sure, he doesn't exactly sound giddy about it, but there it is. "You seriously don't want his kids that much? I mean, here I am, hating that I can't have more and you just won't even consider it?"

"I'm pretty sure you aren't allowed to use my uterus just so you can get babysit," she says, huffing out a laugh. "Plus if I had one, you might just take off with it."

"Nah, it'd be your kid," he admits and it hurts, but it's the truth (god, is it the truth). "I'd just want to help and babysit and then mope a helluva lot when I had to come home to ...well, Steve and a dog."

"You'd probably end up growing a pair of ovaries, anyway," she points out, heading still pillowed on his bare shoulder. She's a little sad she's not fully able to appreciate shirtless Danny, actually.

"I mean I'm pretty sure you're almost there already."

Danny scowls heavily and wraps his arm around her again to coax her in, fidgeting with his sweats. "Do not even fucking remind me," he says, clearly more than a little pissed off. "Steve thinks I'm the girl in this thing."

"He does not," she snorts, even though it's possible he kind of does. Because Danny kind of is.

"Did he tell you that or did you use your brilliant deductive skills?"

"People keep telling the truth, remember?" he says and it's just a little snide and dark because god help him, he didn't like to hear that one come out of Steve's lips. "We're all forgiven, but yeah, yeah, he says of the two of us, I'm the girl."

Rachel bites down on a grin, not for the last time glad that she's still able to lie.

"You're both very manly men," she assures him, reaching out to pluck at a chest hair. "And neither one of you is the girl. I mean, do you think he's the girl?"

"Are you kidding me? Steve? He's the most manly guy I know," Danny mutters, swatting at her hand when it goes to his chest. "Don't," he warns, considering that there's a lot of hair there and the last thing he needs is for her to start pulling at all of it.

But hey, Steve likes it, and that's under threat of truth. "It's just all the picking me up crap," he mutters. "And I guess because I cook better than him, but he still cooks, too."

And yeah...she just can't keep holding it in. She starts to shake a little, trying to hold in the laughter, trying and failing to cover it up with a cough.

"He pick you up a lot?"

Danny glowers at her, so thoroughly pissed off with the world as a whole at this particular moment. "He picks me up more than is actually necessary. Anytime he gets in the mood, he says he's too impatient to wait for me to catch up. Besides, it's mostly the caveman over the shoulder thing. You know, most of the time."

"Sounds kind of hot to me," she says, poking at his tiny waist.

"Come on, admit it. You think it's hot. You think it's a little hot."

Danny recoils again because he's goddamn ticklish there and he hauls up the sweats to cover up the slip of skin he's got there. "It's amusing, it is amusing that Steven cannot wait two minutes and yes, I think when he gets possessive and jealous and desperate for me, that's hot," he says, holding her wrists in his hands. "Do not poke me."

She stares down at the firm grip he has around both wrists and grins. "That's kind of hot, too."

It's not a second later that her face screws up in horror. "Oh my God! You see! That's why I can't have a baby! Mother's can't go around thinking shit like that!"

"Babe," Danny says in a deadpan. "Okay, first of all, just think for two seconds about some of the shit I say. Am I not fit to be a father in your eyes then, huh?"

"No," she grumbles. "But I'm way worse. I can't help it, it just comes out! My mind is filthy at all moment of the day."

"So, you learn to keep it shut around your kid," Danny says. "If Grace heard half the stuff I say to Steve, I would probably want to curl up in a tiny little ball. So I don't say it around her and I make up new profanity and she laughs. She just giggles and she's perfect, my little Monkey."

He finally releases her hands, getting up to poke through drawers to see if there's any leftover clothes. Even though they've moved into one room, you never know.

"That is going to be next to impossible," she comments, watching his broad back. "I mean I'm seriously like a second away from insisting you don't need more clothes. Shit."

Danny glances over his shoulder, trading out the tank-top for one of Steve's henleys, wandering back to the bed and nudging her over with his hips. "C'mon, scoot," he insists, sitting back down again as he fiddled with the open collar. "Look, he's not gonna get you pregnant right away, especially if you tell him you have reservations. He seems like a good guy. Just think it over. For me?"

Danny looks cute in Steve's clothes. Like a little kid. Rachel is smart enough not to actually say that.

"Not having kids for you, Danny," she grumbles even as she shrugs her shoulder. "Fine. I won't fucking...discount it or whatever. But if it all goes to shit I'm giving it to you."

"I'm not asking you to have kids for me, Rachel, jesus. I don't like the idea of surrogates and like fucking hell Steve gets to sleep with a woman so she can have the kid he wants," Danny mutters, glaring at her. "Think about this for you and him."

"Still might give it to you," she says, wrapping an arm around his waist. "In a little basket. Like Moses. I'll think about it for him. That's a start."

"I am not accepting Moses babies," Danny says, pulling her in so he can lay them down on the creaky little bed. "Sorry about the mattress. We keep the good one in the room we actually use," he says. "This is the dog's bed."