the planets bend between us; a hundred million suns and stars
the sea filled in this silence before you sank those words
and now even in the darkness i can see how happy you are ; snow patrol.
It's early, sun slanting through the blinds, and Danny's awake, murmuring complaints about Hawaii into Steve's shoulder. He's drowsy, but he knows he won't fall asleep again, no matter how nice it'd be to stay in bed like this, Steve tucked against him, fingers drawing patterns on a warm belly and cold toes curling against the curve of Steve's feet.
He's going to be the only one up for an hour, at least, because on lazy mornings like this, Steve likes to doze in bed — and Danny'd been just as suprised when he found out that Lieutenant Commander Adrenaline Junkie is capable of switching off the insane that is Steve on most days, but he won't say a word in case Steve decides that what he actually needs to do at 5.30 in the morning is catch bad guys with his ninja skills — but Danny'll be up, coffee and malasadas ready, and he'll have an hour of quiet, watching the news and calling Gracie about getting her mother to drive her over. And when Steve gets up, there'll be lazy kisses that taste like sugar and coffee, and Steve will grumble about sleeping so late and missing out on all the good waves, and why didn't Danny wake him up, and Danny will silence him with a punch in the arm and a kiss to his shoulder, and there will be bickering and fighting for the remote. Gracie will be early, and she'll hug Danny but pester Steve into teaching her how to surf, and Danny will complain, but secretly like a day at the beach, especially when Kono drags Chin Ho with her and they'll all be there, all of his family.
But for now, Danny presses his lips to a shoulderblade, fingers tight against hipbones, and Steve hums, a little happy sound muffled by the pillow. He shifts, mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like Danno and book 'em, but Danny lets it slide, drags his fingers through the strands of hair at the back of Steve's neck and watches Steve and his stupid face and his stupid messy hair, and makes sure he'll remember this even twenty years from now.
And for now, Danny smiles, presses another kiss onto a shoulder, and says, "Go back to sleep, babe," and if his tone is fond, well, there's no one there but Steve to hear it.
but now, it's getting late and despite being twenty-one, i'll want to wake up early tomorrow for tea and children's programs. also because our cat will wake me up with her yowling, but that's irrelevant. there's no snow and i don't really feel like it's christmas yet, but the tree's decorated and tomorrow will be awesome, so hey, all of you darlings: