Yeah, now Danny's letting out more than just breathless moans. Now there's sharp cries, loud and bouncing off the ceiling every time Steve drives in hard, making the bed move. "Transferable skills," Danny taunts, because he could be breathless and he'll still be talking. "C'mon, c'mon, fuck me," Danny barks, nails digging in deeper, his other thumb slipping loose to slide between his ass and rub in circles where Danny would normally like to be screwing him if the tables were turned.