don't look back in anger

His gaze dropped, even if it was only for a moment but he'd definitely sized Richie up, actively imagining him with his shirt on. And off. And then he cleared his throat and adjusted in his seat. "Yeah, you would. Maybe you'd even look better than me. Your shoulders are wider." That was the only observation he deemed was appropriate enough to say out loud. "Y'know what, I wouldn't mind that at all."

Richie's skin buzzed as Danny's warm brown eyes wandered over him, he flicked one eyebrow up. "Lies, not better than you but I'll take a compliment. He coughed low and then smiled, leaning conspiratorially and honestly in toward his favourite dinner guest. "That could be arranged, you know, we have the technology."

"Belly-rubs?" He laughed, loudly, as if he needed to let all that creeping tension out of his body, then he pushed himself back in his seat, only to give himself more space before he took his sweater off. He was practically boiling under there, not because it was warm in the room but because of his heart working overtime trying to keep up with his feelings. "Yeah, alright! Need a collar 'n a leash while we're at it? Ya can sleep in my pile of flannel shirts too."

"Uhuh," Rich answered without answering, eyes sparkling as he smiled lazily over at Danny. So what if he'd thought specifically about wearing Danny's shirts before, under very different context sure, but he'd take it. "Promises, promises. I'd look good on your pile of flannels, you can't deny it. I'd keep your feet warm at night and always fetch the paper for you, darling."

"Not that obvious..." Danny shook his head slightly, knowing very well that Richie was as obvious as they came. But then again... he kind of liked it that way. His whole face became hot all of the sudden, and he couldn't simply sit in one place, all those nerves in his tummy making him wiggle around in his seat like an excited child five minutes before the end of a class. "No. N-no, playtime is a treat! For being good!" Did Richie even know what playtime actually meant? For someone who didn't think about sex much, Danny found himself unknowingly bringing it up more than usual. "It doesn't matter, anyway." He cleared his throat. "You couldn't be bad if you tried."

"You're very kind." Richie nodded knowingly at the grace Danny was giving him, his poker face needed work, situationally. "Okay, I'll be good." He rolled his shoulders and draped himself down into the seat opposite his friend languorously, he'd play tug of war with Danny any day. "Do belly-rubs come as part of this sweet deal?"

"You? No. You purr like a kitten when treated well! Ain't no need for strategic measures here. It's almost like my mere existence around ya is a treat for ya. Besides... I've never offered you play time." Yet. What? Did he say that out loud? Danny turned around quickly, in order to hide his face that was threatening to get even more red by the second. He smiled to himself, looking at the puppy sleeping, rolled on its back with its stomach up, not a worry in the world, feeling completely safe.

Richie smiled conspiratorially at the first half, being called out so thoroughly and accurately made him blink for a second as his brain rebooted. "I'm a little obvious, huh? Well, you are a fuckin' delight, anyone who thinks otherwise has issues." Rich rapped his knuckles quietly on the countertop, a nervous habit. Then a smirk tugged sinuously at the corner of his lips. "Oh, interesting. So if I'm bad, I'll get playtime? I only respond to positive reinforcement, honest. " The puppy was so tired that not even the smell of beef had roused him, one back leg twitched and pawed at the air as he dreamed.

"I read somewhere that you can train dogs with the reward of play time, if you don't want to use treats. Scarily similarly, you can do the same to men to make them behave." Danny chuckled to himself at the analogy. His eyes were full of about a million little stars of wonder as he turned his head to look at Richie at the sound of his name being called in such a sweet way. "Really?" Oh, how he loved the way his chest overflowed with something warm and soft. "Thank you, Rich... I'll make sure to be a great daddy! You won't be disappointed."

"Oh word, that's good." Richie choked for a second, laughing at the tail end. "Is that what you've been up to with me? Pavlov-ing me into being better behaved?" Richie joked with a wink. Danny's eyes were wide and honest like Richie was giving him a gift. Trust was a feeling Rich was no longer familiar with, the sanctuary was better than their time on the road but it was harder now, to put that feeling anywhere without fear. Danny had proven time and time again that he was good for it, for everyone, often at his own expense. "You are prime dad material, you were carefully vetted and selected," He murmured jokingly then his face dipped into sincerity. "I know, me and the little guy are in good hands."

"There's so much ya gotta teach him! Sit, stay, come, lay down, paw! Oh, I adore it when they give us their li'l paw! Can I-- I know we're not actually co-parentin' him, but do ya think it would be possible for me to help out? I just think dealin' with the baby would heal my soul in way I didn't know needed healin'. I mean I don't wanna step on your toes..." But Richie wouldn't think of it that way, would he? Truth was, Danny's heart had been yearning for a pet. The plants in his room weren't nearly enough, even though they were very good listeners when he felt like rambling about life in the middle of the night.

"I know! I need to get good enough treats to train him with." They'd had a family dog that had been around when Richie had arrived, Pirate had been a good boy. "Danny. Danny. I literally haven't told or shown anyone else the puppy, you live right through that wall, I'd love to co-parent the fuck out of this dog with you." Richie couldn't imagine Danny's soul needed healing but if it made him happy, what more could Richie ask for.

With a soft sparkle glinting in his eyes, he practically stared at the other, battling the appreciative smile from appearing on his lips, and losing the fight completely before he made himself focus on his cooking instead. Richie was always so supportive, not a single judgement, not even a strange look thrown his way, no matter how much he opened up to him. With about half a step to the side, Danny let their arms and shoulders touch, a need for physical contact overcoming him completely as a gratitude made his heart swell up with something warm and gentle. It felt nice to acknowledged in such a way. To be told that he was good at things. To be the one being praised instead of the other way around. He just hoped it wouldn't make him feel guilty for being selfish.

Richie smiled down into the pan, the soft tortillas puffing up all golden under his hands. The warm line of Danny down his side was immeasurably comforting. It was easier than breathing to allow him anything he wanted, he asked for so little, making his needs so tiny to allow him to care for other people. Richie wanted to bowl him over with it, his care inescapable for even the smallest thing. The quiet was a cozy one, not an ounce of awkwardness in their silence.

"Oh, I understand the love for it, don't get me wrong." Danny remembered the times when he thought that playing with his little sisters was lame, and all he wanted to do was bury their dolls outside. He also remembered the times when he initiated playing with the dolls, because playing with girls felt so much gentler than doing the same with boys. Then again, they were all just children, doing whatever their parents were teaching them at the time. "Y'know, I really wouldn't mind gettin' dolled up, if I had the chance." Exploring that part of his identity was sadly pushed to the end of the very long line of things to do in his life. But he wouldn't stop dreaming of it.

Rachel had sometimes commanded them with her eldest authority all hands on tiny hips, hard as nails, Benny that bit older and able to duck out, Richie simply desperate to be included in anything at all. So what if his storylines were a bit extreme sometimes, she let him play, that's all that mattered to him. "We'll work on that then, make sure you get to be dolled up how you deserve." Richie made a mental note and wondered if he could rope in someone who did know more about makeup to help, after checking with Danny first of course.

After rolling his sleeves up some more and washing his hands, Danny happily slid next to Richie to start doing just as he was told. Frying up the scallions. "Why d'ya wanna dress me up all the time, huh?" He laughed, the flush of a red tint on his cheeks turning deeper once he realized he didn't have anywhere to hide being that near to him. "Ain't I enough for ya like this?" It was all good fun, messing around with Richie and his wildly inappropriate jokes Danny could barely handle. But he liked the way his heart was doing backflips, or how his whole body seemed to be overcome with heat right before they laughed it all off. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable, it was simply that he wasn't quite so used to it as others would be.

Danny started the work without pause, their elbows brushing in the tiny kitchenette but so in sync that it wasn't an issue, moving around one another with ease. "I thought, as a fellow boy-with-sister that you'd understand the love for many little outfits Ken! Clearly, I was mistaken. Though you're also pretty GI Joe, huh badass." Richie shook his head, though Danny didn't seem to actually mind, the heat of the stove making his friend's cheeks look warm. "You're perfect just the way you are Danny, don't you dare change a thing." Rich couldn't help but gently tap the knuckle of one of his spare fingers against the tip of his nose. Blurting out 'You're everything' seemed to be a bit much, even for Rich.

Watching Richie work on their dinner was almost soothing. Almost, because Danny couldn't help but feel like he was being useless by just standing there like that, listening to music and getting into somewhat of a trance watching skillful fingers chopping up vegetables. He inhaled slowly through his nose, and exhaled even slower, at the thought of a good guacamole on his tongue. He couldn't even remember the taste anymore. "I'm sure whatever you cook up for us will be divine! Guac or no guac." He shuffled closer to the rhythm of the song that was playing. "Ya sure you don't need help? Or am I to be sat on the bench and cheer you on? I'm all outta pom-poms."

Richie liked waiting on Danny, letting Danny relax, the man was always set on a task it seemed whenever he was out of his own place. He deserved to slow down for a while. Richie tried not to show his surprise when he realised what CD Danny had managed to select, Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen trilled out of the speakers and Rich felt his neck burn red. It was a mix about Danny, he listened to it so often that he'd burned it to CD and cassette tape. "I've added a lotta love, that's the special ingredient right?" Rich smiled in his direction as he shimmied over to the beat of the music, Freddie Mercury's rich voice carrying. "I'd never bench you, baby, though if you have one of those little swishy skirts I certainly wouldn't be disappointed. If you wanna fry off the scallions then add the beef while I wrangle the poor imitation tortillas, that'd be great."

The Rainstorm's back door opened with a bang, spilling Lucky out into the alley. She'd taken up bartending part-time since the rescue, a job she probably should have started ages ago considering how much time she spent there. It agreed with her - the drink-mixing, the socializing, the shit-talking - and as sleep had been hard to come by of late, the hours were ideal. But she'd gotten held up on this particular night and almost forgot her "appointment" with Richie, which just wouldn't do. She was still shimmying into her coat as she shuffled toward him; he was facing away from her, but his words were audible and she couldn't help but engage.

Lucky filled up the entire alley with her presence, Richie wondered if her nose would be in the air like a bloodhound with what he held between his lips, curling ribbons of smoke up into the chill night air. They were members of the Lonely Nights Club, adjacent unspokenly to The Lonely Hearts Club, they were good-time girls and sometimes the smoking and shooting the shit helped them ease toward sleep. Filling up the silences that made Richie's thoughts at least steam into overdrive, burning him up. His mouth opened to call her as snug as a bug in a rug as she put on her winter coat, and then it fell open in stunned silence.

The information about the turntable was immediately stored in the front of Danny's mind, deciding then and there that he would have to use his trading skills to convince one of the scavengers to get him one as a surprise for Richie. Perhaps even a record. He just had to figure out which one his friend would like the most. He only noticed just then that he had been focused solely on the way Richie moved his hands around the dough. Merely to see what his kneading technique was like, obviously. No other reason. He hummed, almost having a dumb expression on before it changed into a bashful smile. "I-- listen... it ain't Taylor Swift, but I do alright." He chuckled out of sudden nerves, something he didn't usually feel, and he kind of hated the feeling. He shook it off, clearing his throat before continuing. "I'll serenade ya at midnight, how 'bout that?"

Richie set the dough in a plastic bowl to rise after scraping scraps off of his arms and patting up flour. He snagged a few scallions, not quite the onions that he would have preferred but he did what he could, he wandered over to the small hanging pots around his window, reaching in amongst the herbs for some cilantro. "I want guac, I want lime juice. I'm sorry, I'm letting the whole team down." Though it may not have seemed like it to Danny, Richie's manner had slowly changed since entering his own domain, easing, less reliant on jokes. "Ain't you just a dream? Sweep me off my feet, Summers."

"How old are you again?" Amira fanned her cards out in her hand, the other reaching to tuck tousled waves behind one gold studded ear. "I know you're a softy, really but el hijo, I'm going to have to tell you to grow up on this one." The hand at her hair slipped over into his, scratching the back of his head fondly. "You and I both know there's only one person you want to ask out on a date around here." Her thumb jutted to the wall behind her, pointing to his neighbour without saying the name. "Now, why would I put any of my friends through having their heart broken when you're making cow eyes at somebody else?"

"Twelve and a half." Richie shrunk in on himself, next to Amira's five foot two he was gargantuan but he tucked in his shoulders pathetically. "I think you have me mistaken for someone else Miss. Name's Pan, Peter Pan." He held out his hand for a handshake, the bond impression a defence mechanism to the last. Rich slapped his hands over his ears and started an awful 'la la la' chorus as she tried to speak, he didn't however miss her jerking her thumb at the wall separating he and Danny's rooms. "I'm not makin' bovine anything at anyone ma'am... but point taken." He groaned rolling over theatrically so his face was buried in the couch, cards flying everywhere. "I need to get laid."

"Eat shit Richard." Jay knew that he was the only one in this particular examination room, he'd volunteered to stay behind to sterilize the beds until shift changeover. The others had drifted off to tend to patient records. "Or do you prefer Dick?" Jay marched forward, seizing Richie's chin in a cold, blue-gloved grip as they examined the damage clinically. "Sit over here." Jay commanded, limping away without sparing Richie another glance. People like him thrived on attention, Jay was all too happy to starve him of it.

"Already did babe." Richie flourished his hand, highlighting his busted chin like a shopping channel glamourous assistant. "I love Dick. Keep playing hard to get, it really revs my engine." He batted his lashes as Jay marched over. "Oh be gentle with me! I am but a fragile young man." The fingers dug in harshly, to the bone, and he squinted in pain as it pinched his scraped flesh. Rich followed the order with a suspicious lack of resistance, "Do I get a cookie, maybe a gold star?"

The comic book was promptly shut, and Danny was on his feet again before his friend would even notice him shuffling closer to the stack of CDs beside a player. "Ya gotta show me your favorites. Oh, I really do miss music that isn't a nursery rhyme, or an easy way to remember geometric rules. Maybe I should write my own..." He mumbled the last sentence, thinking about the old guitar sitting in the Rainstorm that only got used on karaoke nights.

"Favourites would be a toughie, I go mostly by decade now because I find it hard to catalogue. I want a turntable, y'know to get some records at some point." Richie added the meagre amount of spices he'd been able to trade for, he wrangled the garlic confit he'd made the week before and made sure to press it before applying it liberally to the beef and setting it aside. He made mock-tortilla dough out of flour and yoghurt, rolling his sleeves up and kneading until the muscles stood out in his forearms, they'd end up more like flatbread in a cast iron but he made do. "You write? Wow." Richie burned a bright red, cat finally getting his tongue, it was just about the hottest thing Danny had ever said to him. "I'd love to hear them some time, if you do, no pressure."

Seeing people overcome with that little twinkle of hope and joy was what Danny loved to see the most. Not many of them understood how much positive words meant. A little went a long way! His heart fluttered at the excitement as he sank into the chair a bit more, opening the comic book in front of his face so only his eyes would be seen from behind it, even though his grin was still very much apparent. "You're doin' something people care about right now, ain't ya? It's a very important job." His eyes dropped to Richie's now covered hips before hiding behind his book, looking at the familiar panels while not exactly paying attention to them. "You spoil me." He muttered. "...What d'ya think I would'a turned out to be?"

Richie watched Danny melt back into the chair; let himself pretend for a moment that he could come home to this every day, make him dinner every day. Comic books were much cooler than newspapers anyway. "I like to be useful." It'd surprise some but he figured he had to be a valuable asset to mouth off the way he did. "I try to keep the channels clear when I do play music, don't let myself play as much as I'd like." He chuckled, that wasn't what the Sanctuary's radio tower was for anymore, it had the entire setup on the decks for broadcasting music but their survival and the intricate web of communication networks were far more important.