McDanno Oneshots

8| Homesick

"It's really cold," Steve's teeth chattered noisily in the car.

It was getting on my nerves.

"I have the heat on," I snapped.

"I'm coooooolllldd," he whined.

"You Hawaiians only like the weather if it's hot, extra hot, or a goddamn inferno,"

"That's not true, no one likes it when you can't feel your hands!"

Without a word, I reached over and pulled both his hands into my lap and warmed them up with mine. Steve really wasn't exaggerating, his hands were ice-cold.

"Why are you so cold?" I was now a little concerned.

"Because your home town is the embodiment of a popsicle," he said.

"No I think you might be catching a cold," I frowned.

"I am cold," he muttered.

We were visiting the place where I grew up. It was Steve's idea.

He wanted to 'see where the magic started'.

My parents had moved out before they died and sold the house so me and Steve were staying in a hotel nearby. I expertly steered the car into the familiar suburb and scanned the rows of houses for the one that used to be my own.

"Is it this one?" He pointed to an ugly pink house that had flamingos with baseball caps propped on their lawn.

"No," I wrinkled my nose, "I think you'd live in a house like that though,"

"I think the flamingos are a nice touch," he said.

"Only you would," I smirked.

Finally, we reached the my old house.

The yard was completely overrun by grass and the vinyl siding on the house was starting to peel away.
I remembered how every winter there'd be soft warm light coming from the windows but today no such light was there.

No one lived here.

And I don't know why that felt like a blow to the stomach.

Pressure was building behind my eyes but I plastered a smile onto my face and looked over at Steve, who was looking back at me.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Oh yeah," I nodded.

Steve looked skeptical but let it slide.

"Do you want to get out and look around?"

"Why? There's no point," I muttered.

Steve sneezed and then raised up his index finger.

"Aha! I knew you weren't fine!"

"Well neither are you,"

"What do you mean?"

"You just sneezed," I said.

"So? People sneeze all the time, do you want to talk about why you're about to cry?"

Steve always had a way of running over my words to get to his point. It was quite the talent.
And quite the pain in the ass.

"I'm not crying," I crossed my arms.

"You're about to,"

"Will you just shut up?"

"No,"

I sighed and leaned backwards in the seat a little. I could feel his eyes following my every move, waiting for me to talk.

"I guess it hurts? To see it like this? Empty?" Everything came out like a question.

"Hmm,"

"Hmm? That's all you have to say?"

"What am I supposed to say?"

"You wanted to talk!" I raised my voice.

"No I wanted you to talk, and there, now we know why you're about to cry," he said.

"Steve why are you so. Goddamn. Annoying." I growled.

"It's okay to cry Danny,"

It was his voice, the openness to it that made me actually cry. To have someone willing to sit with me and let me cry.
Steve pulled me close to his chest and said nothing.

Eventually the tears ran dry and I pulled myself together. Steve tousled my hair back into place and we made the drive to the hotel.

* * *

"AaaacHhhOOoOo!"

"I told you that you were catching a cold!"

"Danny will you please be quiet?" Steve's congested voice cracked.

"Nope. Not until you admit I was right," I crossed my arms.

"Fine you were right, now get me some chicken soup,"

Lmao idk what this is but here we are, me forcing myself to write even though I've got the writers block blues 😔