Steve doesn't ask the next day. He doesn't even ask for the rest of the week, because as ridiculous as it sounds, he's actually a little worried Danny will say no. Which, seriously, he practically lives with Steve already and his apartment's a total dump, so why would he not run with this? Steve could sort of see why Danny might not, he guesses, because even if it's a dump, Danny's still the one whose name is on the lease, and therefore he's assured of having a place to live. Not that Steve would ever kick Danny to the curb, no matter what's going on with them, but he can see how it might be something to worry about.
The fact of the matter is, though, that Steve wants Danny there, wants to share that with Danny, because apparently sharing most of the other parts of their lives isn't quite enough for him. Not that Steve expected anything different, really; he'd long suspected that if he ever fell in love, that would be it for him, and he'd hold on to it as tight as he could. Of course, he never would have expected someone like Danny to be it, but that's life for you.
And now it's just a matter of working up the nerve to actually say the damn words. He says them to himself dozens of times at home, and that way it's easy, easy to imagine casually bringing it up – hey, wanna move in with me, seeing as how you pretty much live here already? – but even though he has plenty of chances, he can't make the words come out. It starts making him nervous, edgy, and Steve knows that Danny can tell something's up, because he starts to get fidgety, too, flailing more while he rants and ranting with a much greater likelihood of going off on tangents that have absolutely nothing to do with whatever topic is at hand.
Steve knows he has to say something soon, because Danny is far too likely to get some kind of crazy idea in his head about what's on Steve's mind, and there's really no telling what he'll come up with or what he'll do about it. Things are pretty tense by the time Steve finally forces himself to say something, because Danny's sort of managed to work past anxiety and into anger, which means that he's been sarcastic as hell and pissy to boot. For two days. Steve really should have said something sooner.
He's a little bit proud in the end, though, that he says the words of his own volition, not because Danny got pissed off enough to pretty much force Steve into some kind of confrontation. That's really not the kind of mood he needs for this conversation, anyway.
Instead, it happens over a quiet dinner – quiet more because Danny is still pissy and therefore punishing him by not talking than anything else – since the silence is what finally gets to him. Not having Danny fill it with all manner of inane chatter, even if it's about New Jersey, is wrong on so many levels that Steve really just can't take it.
Of course, it doesn't come out quite like he intends, sounding more like a demand than anything. "You need to move in with me."
Danny blinks at him for an eternally long few seconds before he gives Steve a withering glare and turns back to his potatoes. Steve waits, and waits, and waits some more, but Danny apparently has nothing to say on the matter. Steve pokes at his food a little, and he can feel himself flushing before he finally loses what little patience he had to begin with.
"Say something, Danny."
"You know what, babe? Why don't we both take some time to think that over and then I'll get back to you, okay?" Danny's tone of voice is almost completely even, and Steve honestly has no idea what to make of either it or his words.
Steve finishes his dinner in confused silence, because what? He'd expected yelling, relief, pretty much anything but this. He keeps trying to make heads or tails of it, which is probably why he sort of forgets to tell Danny that he's been thinking about it, and in no way does he need more time. He knows what he wants, and waiting for Danny to work out if he wants the same thing? Yeah, that's gonna be hell.