Fic: Cute Boys With Computers
Fic: Cute Boys With Computers
Disclaimer: If they were mine, there would be way more Danny, so clearly, not mine.
Rating/warnings: T (cursing, references to sex, nothing explicit)
Pairings: Danny/Jackson, Danny/Stiles, Danny/Scott, Danny/Isaac, Danny/Boyd, Danny/Derek, Danny/Matt, Danny/OC.
Notes: Very mildly inspired by this. Takes place in/after/around 2x06 (Frenemy), but I started writing it before then, so details have been jossed. Thanks to my darling beloved lielabell for beta reading and cheerleading.
Summary: Lying paralyzed in a hospital bed, Danny doesn't have much to do but let his mind wander and remember the string of hookups and relationships that brought him to the Jungle in the first place. (Or: Danny/Everyone.)
One moment, Danny was dancing with a hard body, trying to shout his name over the music, and doing his best to keep his gaze off of Trevor, his ex, who was only a few feet away. The next moment, he was flat on his back, his head aching where it smashed onto the dance floor, dance partner out cold next to him. He couldn't move -- could barely breathe --
The panic hit and everyone started screaming. Feet crashed around him, a stampede as people tried to get the fuck out, away from -- from --
He saw a flash of something huge and green and scaly --
Time slowed to a crawl and all Danny could feel was the ache in his skull. He dimly heard someone ask, "Can anyone move?" and then someone else piped up, "What the hell happened?" and, "What the fuck was that thing?"
But none of them could move. At all.
The lights flared to life and a squad of EMTs and police rushed in. Even as a team hoisted him onto a stretcher, a deputy was trying to take his statement. But he hadn't seen anything, didn't know what the hell had happened. He'd been dancing, and then on the floor. Just like that. Panic bubbled up in his chest with nowhere to go as an EMT wheeled him towards the ambulance.
"Danny!" Of all people, Scott McCall appeared next to his stretcher. Danny stared at up at him.
"McCall? What are you doing here?" Danny asked. Because Scott was... well, not exactly the type of guy who hung out at the Jungle.
"Just seeing if you're okay," he said, which didn't answer the question at all. "And... wondering if anything weird happened to you today. Besides being paralyzed from the neck down." The EMT told Scott he had to go, but Scott didn't move. "One more question, just one. Are you okay?"
Danny actually almost laughed, since he didn't have any other outlet for his hysteria. He had no idea what the hell had happened to him, he couldn't move his body at all. And he'd had a shitty week, thanks to Trevor, and Jackson had ditched him even though going out had been his idea, and what the fuck was happening?
His voice wavered a little when he asked the only other thing he could think of: "Did it happen to my ex, too?"
Scott looked around. "Yeah."
Danny half-laughed, sure it sounded manic, but who could blame him? "Then I'm great."
Scott patted his shoulder awkwardly and looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead he bolted and the EMT loaded the stretcher into the ambulance.
He tried to stretch, to wiggle his fingers, but he couldn't do it. All he could see was the ambulance's roof. He couldn't steady himself as it shook, speeding towards the hospital, and with a neck brace on he couldn't even twist his head to see who was in the stretcher next to his. All he could do was stare upwards and let his mind wander.
*
Jackson was Danny's first kiss. His first few kisses, to be strictly accurate.
They were twelve years old, and it was the summer before seventh grade. Jackson was obsessed with how different junior high was going to be. They were so much more mature now, and the girls were really developed, and they'd get to play on the junior high lacrosse team, and everything was going to be different and amazing.
Except...
"We can't go to junior high without having kissed anyone." Jackson elbowed Danny so Danny would look up from his computer, and he looked a little hurt that Danny just rolled his eyes and went back to what he was doing. "I mean, come on. Of course I'm going to have a girlfriend, like, immediately. You will too, probably. But what if -- what if they expect us to already know how to kiss? What if they've already kissed, like, high school guys?"
Now Danny bothered to look up. Instead of telling Jackson he wasn't exactly sure he wanted a girlfriend, he just said, "High school guys don't kiss seventh graders."
"Well, still. What if... I'm just saying, we should practice. In case."
"With who?"
Jackson grinned at him, his let's-take-my-dad's-car-for-a-joy-ride, I-totally-know-how-to-drive grin. The grin that meant Jackson had a terrible idea, and Danny was the one who was going to get in trouble for it. But it was going to be a ton of fun right up until they got busted.
And that was when Jackson kissed him.
*
They wheeled him from the ambulance into the hospital, took a whole lot of vitals, checked his ID -- his fake ID -- to do his intake, and he managed to talk his way out of giving them anyone's contact info for him, once someone had said it looked like everyone from the club would be okay in not too long. He didn't really need his parents to know what had happened, and he'd find a way to deal with the bill. It wouldn't be the first time he made something like that vanish.
Not that the hacking-to-cover-his-tracks incident a few year ago had ended well. But still.
Eventually they wheeled him into a room and transferred him to a real bed. It was jarring and a little scary, the way his limbs just dropped, no matter how hard he tried to tense them. With the neck brace gone, he could turn his head from side to side and nod, but he couldn't even feel anything below his neck.
He was actually starting to panic, freaking out as he realized just how screwed he was, when a doctor came in to take more of his blood. "What did you have to drink tonight?" he asked, gruff.
"Not much. Just a beer. Didn't even finish it," Danny said.
"You're sure that was it? Did you see the bartender make it? Did you notice anything odd about it?"
"Whoa. No one roofied me," Danny said, his mind reeling.
"Did you take anything else? Or have physical contact with anyone else?"
"I was kind of dancing, so, um," he felt himself flush, "yeah, there was contact. But mostly through clothes."
The doctor frowned. "Well, this had to be transmitted somehow."
"Transmitted? What do you think this is?"
"We don't know yet. A new drug, maybe, or a toxin, something easily spread. Something to cause panic and hallucinations and paralysis. I've never seen anything like it. But all the indications are that it's temporary, so... I need to get this to the lab."
He hurried off with the vial of blood, leaving Danny to his thoughts. So he wasn't the only one who'd seen something crazy... but what had everyone else seen? Probably not a lizard monster. But why would he hallucinate that, of all things?
Maybe when he'd hit the floor, he'd just caught a glimpse of someone's tacky alligator skin boots.
But the whole thing just felt weird and wrong, like it made his skin crawl.
*
The hacking incident started with a boy. His name was David, and Danny met him at summer camp when he was 13. The program his parents had found him (nerd camp, Jackson called it, when he found out that they weren't going to camp together for the first time ever) was two weeks living in a college dorm, learning some basic programming stuff and all kinds of computer things. Except Danny already knew how to program -- he'd taught himself the previous summer when he'd been bored, and it came to him as naturally as breathing and lacrosse. So while everyone else did homework, Danny flirted with David. Who flirted right back.
It was awesome. Especially the part where they made out in the stairwell before lights-out almost every night.
Camp ending was less awesome. David lived in Rhode Island, which meant the chances of them seeing each other again were not great. But they had email and phone calls and texts. It was the texts that got Danny in trouble. His family didn't have an unlimited texting plan, and he hadn't paid much attention to how many he'd sent, and, well...
Jackson was a jerk, and apparently hated David even though he'd never met him, so of course Jackson laughed when Danny realized exactly how many times a day he texted David. His parents were going to murder him when they saw the bill. Danny hadn't figured he'd be able to do much about it, but pulled up the phone company's website just to check. He guessed his dad's password easily enough and just started poking around, seeing if there was a way to change their plan or something without his parents knowing. Not that they'd go without noticing once they got the higher bill, but they'd probably blame the phone company for the screw up, and it would be fine.
What he actually found was the login for company employees who set up new accounts. And it only took a little bit of fiddling before he found a way in, and from there it was easy enough to find his parents' account and just delete the charges. No problem at all. Or it wouldn't have been if he hadn't tried to talk David through how to do the same thing from his end. But David got caught, and the next thing Danny knew, Sheriff Stilinksi and a phone company rep were banging on his door, and they actually took him down to the station.
Despite what Jackson liked to claim whenever it came up, he did not cry. Much. Jackson wasn't even there at the time, so what did he know?
Of course they dropped the charges, because he was just a kid, and all he'd ended up with was a stern talking to from the sheriff. Which was enough to convince him he probably shouldn't attempt any more hacking. Even if it had been ridiculously easy to do.
His parents had not been happy, though. His mother ranted and his father looked disappointed, and they grounded him forever. They also enrolled him in every community service program they could find. He did everything from picking up trash on the highway to serving in soup kitchens to working in the community garden.
Actually, that last one was kind of great. Because the hippie family that ran the garden had a son named Tom, who was sun-blond and permanently barefoot, and who liked rolling around on freshly-cut lawns. He squirmed when Danny held him down and shoved grass clippings down his shirt, but the red in his face wasn't from the sun, and when Danny kissed him... well, Danny missed David a little less after that. After their fourth time making out behind the tomato patch, Danny asked Tom out on a proper date and everything.
In a town as small as Beacon Hills, two boys showing up to a movie holding hands and then walking to dinner together was the sort of thing people noticed. Danny had never given much thought to coming out. Liking boys didn't feel like a big deal to him; it didn't define him any more than being great with computers or good at lacrosse did. But somehow, when word got around to his parents, they still wanted to sit him down and talk about it.
Danny didn't have anything to say other than yes. Like, yes he and Tom were kind of dating, and yes he was pretty sure he was gay. No big deal. But his mom kissed his forehead and his father hugged him and that was that, settled.
Except, annoyingly, he had to settle it again when Jackson came up to him with wide eyes and reported that there were all kinds of rumors about him. Danny just rolled his eyes and said yes yet again when Jackson asked him if they were true, if he really was into boys. Jackson's eyes got even wider somehow, and even though he swore up and down that it was totally cool, that it didn't change a thing, he seemed pretty freaked out. But whatever; Jackson freaked out all the time, about really stupid things, and he'd deal with it. Danny never for a moment doubted that.
In fact, the only doubt or worry he had was when school started up, and one of the guys on the team asked him if he was gay. Danny wasn't going to lie, but it was the most awkward yes he'd ever said, and he braced himself to see how the team would react.
But all anyone on the team ever said was, "Cool."
*
"Stiles said they were just there to support Danny..."
Danny's ears perked up, hearing his name, and he wished he could sit up or shift closer to listen in. So Stiles had been at the Jungle, too. Of course he had, since he and Scott did everything together and Scott had shown up. But what did just there to support Danny meant?
"So you don't think the two of them are...?" a woman returned.
"No. I mean. Do you?"
"He's still pretty hung up on Allison. But we'll definitely be having a talk about what he was doing at a club. He's not even 17 yet!"
Danny finally placed the voices: Sheriff Stilinski, and -- he didn't know her name, but Scott's mom. Danny had torn a muscle playing lacrosse two years ago, and she'd been the nurse who'd taken care of him. He bit down a smirk. Scott's mom and Stiles's dad thought the two of them were maybe dating?
That would be...kind of stupidly cute, actually. But if they'd been making up excuses for why they'd been at the Jungle, Danny was sure as heck not going to be the one who outed them.
*
Danny had never outed anyone. But he totally knew who at school was gay, because they all tended to come to him for help figuring things out. Which was awkward, bi-curious teenage boy code for asking to make out with him.
Like everything non-hacking-related in his life, that was Jackson's fault. At the beginning of ninth grade, on one of the many, many days when Jackson just felt like being an ass, he'd started a rumor that Danny was so desperate that he'd screw around with absolutely anyone who asked. No one had taken it seriously, and when Danny heard, he punched Jackson's shoulder. Jackson just gave him that shit-eating grin of his and said, "Hey, just trying to help you get some, bro."
But the thing was, it kind of...worked. Because a few days later, a guy two years ahead of them had come up to Danny, all nervous and awkward, and said that he wasn't sure what was going on with him, but his family would flip out and he couldn't tell them anything unless he was sure, and how could he be sure if he never tried anything, and he just wanted to see if he'd like kissing a boy.
Which, as it turned out, he did. Though he never came out, which meant that they only made out the once. Well... twice. Well, twice in the locker room, and once in his car, but that was it.
Danny never said a word about it. Just because he knew his parents hadn't cared at all when he came out, and all of his friends and family were totally cool with him, that didn't mean everyone would be so lucky. But apparently his new friend let word slip at some point, because it became kind of a regular thing. Curious boys, nervous and not even sure what to say, would come up to Danny and stutter. It didn't take long for Danny to learn how to put them at ease, to coax them into a kiss, and -- if they seemed to like it, which they almost always did -- to just see how things went from there.
Statistically speaking, Danny knew a handful of students at school had to be gay or bi, even though only a few others were out. But his practical knowledge said that a handful wasn't even close to covering it.
*
Sheriff Stilinski stepped into the room and leaned into Danny's field of vision. Danny managed to turn his head to see him more easily.
"So, the ID you've got in your wallet says that you're a 22-year-old named Danny Maloney." He raised his eyebrows. "Funny thing, because I'm pretty sure you're on the lacrosse team with my son. My 16-year-old son."
"Yeah, that is... that is funny," Danny said.
"I called your parents, Danny." He shook his head a little. "I hope you take the fact that you ended up in the hospital as a sign that you shouldn't be breaking the law. I hope I don't have to bring you down to the station."
Again, hung between them unsaid. But unlike when Danny was thirteen and had been caught hacking, he wasn't overcome with terror. Instead, he tried to give the sheriff his most charming smile. If half the boys on the lacrosse team were to be believed, it was pretty damn charming.
"I'm sure my parents will ground me until I graduate, so I don't think you'll have to worry," he said.
Sheriff Stilinski laughed. "I know you're upset about your break up, son, but there are ways to blow off steam that don't involve underage drinking."
"Yes, sir," Danny agreed, wondering how the sheriff even knew about Trevor.
"Next time the boys want to take you out to cheer you up, maybe just a movie or something, okay?"
Ohhh. So that was what Stiles had told his dad to explain why he and Scott were at the Jungle. "I'll make sure to suggest that," Danny agreed.
Sheriff Stilinski hesitated. "Danny, you wouldn't happen to know if Stiles is... no, you know what, I should talk to him myself."
"Probably for the best," Danny said.
*
Sheriff Stilinski would probably eventually ask Stiles about it. He seemed like a pretty okay guy, as authority figures (never Danny's favorite people) went, and considering Stiles was Stiles, yeah, it was a conversation that was going to happen eventually. It would probably be awkward and end with hugs. Danny was pretty familiar with that kind of conversation.
But not everyone was lucky enough to expect hugs from their parents. Like Isaac Lahey.
Danny didn't know what the hell was going on there. No one seemed to, and all the rumors that went around the school when Mr. Lahey died and Isaac disappeared were pretty crazy. Danny didn't think Isaac had it in him to hurt anyone, though. Okay, so Isaac was way different and kind of scary these days, since he'd come back to school after being cleared of all charges, but the only time Danny had really interacted with him, he'd thought Isaac was more lonely and anxious than anything else. Definitely not some kind of psychokiller.
The Isaac thing happened at one of Jackson's parties, which Isaac had not actually been invited to. It wasn't even much of a party, just the first-string lacrosse guys and a few of their girlfriends, with some booze Jackson had lifted from his parents' liquor cabinet. Slightly buzzed, they'd decided to go play tag in the graveyard across the road from Jackson's stupidly big house.
When Danny saw Isaac, he actually thought he was staring at a ghost -- seriously, the kid was pale and gaunt and Danny hadn't been expecting him. He was perched on the porch of a run-down little house on the other side of the graveyard, which Danny hadn't realized anyone actually lived in.
It took him a few seconds to place the guy. But Isaac slid down to sit on the porch, knees pulled up to his chest, and once Danny recognized him he realized it probably sucked for him to watch everyone goofing around without getting to join in. So he jogged over (narrowly avoiding getting tagged by Jackson, but he could totally outrun Jackson anytime, please) and helped himself to Isaac's porch, saying, "Hey."
Isaac looked like he might pass out.
Danny waited, then finally asked, "Uh, you live around here?"
"Yeah, uh, yeah." Isaac glanced back at the house. "But I'm locked out."
"Oh. That sucks. Is your mom gonna be home soon? To let you in?"
"Dad," Isaac said. "Nah. He's... away."
Danny frowned a little, because even though it was plenty warm out, where was the kid going to sleep, on the porch? "You want to come play?" Danny watched as Jackson caught one of the girls around the waist instead of tagging her, and she giggled, high pitched and drunk. "I'm pretty sure Jackson's got a flask on him, you could get caught up with the rest of us pretty fast." He reached out to poke at Isaac's ribs. The guy was tiny. "I bet you're a lightweight."
Isaac shied away, obviously uncomfortable, and shook his head.
After a minute, Jackson began hollering at everyone to head back inside for popcorn and movies. In other words, for make out time. Not that Danny had anyone at this party to make out with. Though... he stood up, and looked back down at Isaac.
"You want to come hang out? If you're locked out anyway, you might as well."
Isaac looked around desperately, as if someone was trying to sneak up on him, and said, "Jackson didn't invite me. And I --"
"I'm inviting you. Jackson'll deal."
"But he --"
"Seriously. Come on." Danny reached out to grab Isaac's hand, and Isaac let himself be hauled up. "If Jackson's a dick about it, I'll tell him you're my date. It'll shut him up."
Isaac looked wide-eyed and terrified at that, but since he didn't let go of Danny's hand, Danny didn't think it was homophobia or anything. And sure enough, inside, everyone piled back into Jackson's living room and all the couples began pairing off.
And sure enough again, Jackson did a doubletake when he saw Isaac and demanded, "What's he doing here?"
"He's with me," Danny said, wrapping an arm around Isaac's skinny middle.
"Seriously? Wait, with you or, like... with you?"
And because Danny knew it would make Jackson's eyes bug out, he said, "With me," and kissed Isaac's neck.
Jackson's eyes weren't the only ones that got so huge they almost fell out. Isaac's did, too. But Jackson left them alone after that, and Danny figured why the hell not? Isaac was skinny but he was cute with his unruly curls, so Danny tugged Isaac down into his lap. Isaac didn't object at all, and actually kind of curled up against his body. It took awhile for the tension to disappear from his frame, for him to really relax and cuddle up, fragile and small next to Danny. It made Danny feel weirdly protective of him.
An hour into the movie, when Danny sort of nuzzled at Isaac, nose to cheek, Isaac was pretty quick to turn to face Danny, to let Danny kiss him, to kiss back. He fisted a hand in Danny's shirt, grabbing on like it was a life raft, like he was afraid to let go.
Eventually, everyone drifted off to sleep, the TV still blaring. Danny definitely had his arms around Isaac, sprawled out over a couch, when they fell asleep.
Isaac was gone by the time Danny woke up. And though he shot Danny lingering looks occasionally after that, he ducked away whenever Danny tried to talk to him. Danny didn't know what to think of it, or what to think of him.
But he definitely liked the nervous, sweet version of Isaac better than the leather-jacketed kid he'd turned into.
*
The first thing Danny's mom said was, "Oh my god, honey, are you okay? Oh, my poor little boy," and she pressed her hand against his forehead. Which was weird, because Danny's mom wasn't exactly known for being demonstrative or easily panicked. Which meant she had to be really worried.
Guilt settled into his chest and he said, "I'm really fine, Mom. I didn't take anything or do anything or -- the doctor says they don't know what it is but it's definitely temporary. So I'll be fine."
"You will?" she asked, hauling over a chair to sit at his bedside. His father stepped further into his view. "Are you sure?"
"I promise."
"Oh, that's a relief," she said. Then, "And it's just as well you can't move, then, young man, because it means we've got a few hours to discuss how you're going to be grounded until college."
Danny groaned. Good to know his mother's concern had been a trap.
"I mean it," she continued, gesturing wildly. "Sneaking into a bar underage, my god. You told us you were going to Jackson's. What if you'd been hurt? Oh, wait, you were hurt."
"Mom," Danny started, and at her angry look, switched tactics. "Dad. I'm really sorry but I didn't do anything wrong --"
"Except use a fake ID to drink underage illegally," his father said mildly. Danny might have gotten his drive and determination from his mom, but his chill side came from his dad. The sarcasm came from both.
"It's not a big deal," Danny tried. "Other kids do it all the time. No one else's parents care --"
"No one else's parents are trying to raise a kid who's smart enough to take over the world and stupid enough to try it," his mom snapped. "It's our job not to let you get away with things like this, because then you'll -- you're so smart that if you'd stop making such idiotic decisions -- Danny, you are too good of a kid to end up lying in a hospital bed with god only knows what wrong with you!"
Danny was pretty sure there was actually some parental pride mixed in with that anger, which was kind of weird and out of place, but his parents had always been proud of how naturally school and computers and math came to him. His father put a steadying hand on his mother's shoulder.
"I'll call the soup kitchen in the morning," his dad said. "We'll keep your weekends busy with that for a few months."
Danny groaned.
"And you're not going out. Anywhere," his mother added. "Not until we're sure we can trust you. You come straight home after lacrosse practice, and you're not having any company over, either. Not even Jackson."
Well, that was going to suck.
Especially when his dad added, "We're taking away your laptop. You can use my office computer for your homework for awhile."
"But it's so slow," Danny whined, then, because whining wouldn't earn him any points, he tried, "What about partner assignments for class? Can I still have people over to work on those?"
His parents exchanged a look. Finally, his dad said, "Yes. But only when one of us is home. And you'll have to stay in the living room where we can...keep an eye on things."
Which meant that as subtle as Danny had tried to be all year, he was so, so busted.
*
Stiles Stilinski being bicurious was not even remotely surprising. He'd always been vocally fascinated by the fact that Danny was gay, which was frankly kind of annoying, and Stiles also joked around about his own sexuality too much for it to all be joking. Danny rolled his eyes each and every time, and just sort of waited, and, well...
It just seemed inevitable that, the week they were assigned to be chemistry lab partners together, the first thing Stiles said at one of their study sessions was, "So I hear that when lacrosse players want to see if they swing both ways, you're the guy to see."
"You're not a lacrosse player," Danny answered.
"Hey, ouch! I'm not a good lacrosse player, but I'm totally on the team," Stiles objected.
Danny made a kinda-sorta hand gesture at him.
"So does that mean I'm the one guy at Beacon Hills you won't make out with?"
Danny considered it for a minute. On the one hand, Stiles was annoying, but on the other hand... Danny just really liked making out. And Stiles wasn't really that annoying. He was more weird and geeky than anything else. "I didn't say that. But we're supposed to be studying."
"Please. Anyone who bothers to pay attention knows you've got a 3.9 average, and I haven't had anything below an A since they started letting me take tests in the library. I think we can put studying off for awhile."
"Well..." Danny spun around in his desk chair to face Stiles, who was hanging half off his bed. "For awhile, I guess."
In what Danny assumed was an attempt to be smooth, Stiles used a sneaker to snag the support under the rolling chair, but he failed utterly in that instead of dragging the chair closer, he somehow pulled himself off the bed and set the chair spinning. Danny laughed as he grabbed his desk to stop it, then slid off the chair to meet Stiles on the floor and pin his shoulders to the side of his bed, and, well. What Stiles lacked in smoothness and experience, he made up for with enthusiasm. It was way more fun than studying.
So yeah, that was all more or less what Danny expected.
He wasn't expecting when, three days later, Stiles opened their study session with, "So I was watching some gay porn." Once Danny finished choking on his soda, he continued, "Does your offer to be everyone's gay experiment extend past making out? Because there are some other things I'd like to try, I think."
"So does that mean you're gay?"
"What? No, I love Ly -- ladies," Stiles said quickly. "I just also, you know. Whatever."
Danny figured it was best to pretend he hadn't caught Stiles's word-slip, there, because he didn't feel like getting into a fight over whether or not Jackson deserved Lydia. "So what did you have in mind, then?" Danny asked instead.
"Well..."
Which was how Danny both gave and received his first handjob.
Three days after that, it was also how he discovered the joys of dryhumping, the hot friction of his dick between Stiles's thighs.
The next week, it was also how he awkwardly attempted fingering -- though he was way better at it than Stiles, who hadn't thought to trim his nails. Danny had kind of been enjoying things up until then, even if Stiles was a total spaz, but after that one, he wasn't all that sad when their chem unit ended and Stiles went back to being partners with Scott.
*
"Hey, sorry to interrupt." Scott's mom stuck her head into the room. Danny gave her a relieved smile, grateful to have his mom's tirade interrupted. He got why she was upset and angry, he did, but come on. Going to a club underage was so not a big deal. And he'd only had one drink. "David Whittemore just called, he heard something happened at the Jungle and wondered if Jackson might have been there with Danny."
She and his parents all looked at him expectantly.
"No," Danny said, glad it was the truth for a change, because Jackson... well, Jackson had been to the Jungle a few times. It always ended with him drunk and grinding on some stranger, and Danny having to drag him home before he could make a really poor life choice. And then Jackson never, ever, ever wanted to talk about it after.
Maybe it would have been for the best, if Jackson had ended up paralyzed too, so his parents had to come get him. He'd he finally have had no choice but to clue his parents in to what he was going through. It wasn't like Danny could say anything himself, since that would break his no-outing-guys rule, and Jackson hadn't ever exactly told him anything. Jackson was just... Jackson.
But he hadn't been there, so thankfully, Danny didn't have to lie. "Nope."
"Have you seen him? His parents thought he was at your house."
The looks Danny's mom gave him meant that she'd just found inspiration for another lecture, but before she could start, he said, "I haven't seen him since practice ended, but if he drops by I'll tell him to call home."
*
Jackson had been Danny's first kiss, and he was also Danny's first blowjob. Jackson and Lydia were on a break (she insisted) or broken up (Jackson's interpretation), and Jackson was trying his hardest to pretend he didn't care. Danny knew better, because he'd known Jackson since they were toddlers, and he could see through all of Jackson's bullshit and bluster.
So he said, "Dude, it's me, stop acting like a dick and tell me what's wrong."
Jackson didn't tell him anything, but he did stop acting like a dick. Which was saying something, for Jackson. So they didn't talk, just hung out in Jackson's room, sprawled out on his bed, splitting a bottle of vodka Jackson had borrowed from the liquor cabinet. They were pretty far into it, both gone past the point of even laughing and silliness, when Jackson said, "You're my best friend."
Danny grinned at him. "You're my best friend."
"No, I mean you... you're my best friend," Jackson said, and nudged Danny. "For real. I mean it."
"I know you do," Danny said, nudging Jackson back. "You're my best friend, too."
"'Kay," Jackson said, then stretched upwards. To get the bottle sitting on the headboard, Danny assumed, but actually Jackson sat up, then pushed over on to his knees and climbed on top of Danny, straddling his thighs.
"Dude, what's...?"
"Just, let me," Jackson mumbled, hand going to Danny's fly. "Because you're my best friend, okay? Just let me."
"Dude, you're... you're not my type," Danny managed, hoping to keep Jackson from doing something that he'd seriously regret later.
But when Danny tried to move, Jackson pressed his hips down, and gave him this look. And said, "Please, I need to. I want to, Danny, I want to."
Danny wanted to say something more, explain that this wasn't really the sort of thing best friends did, but he was drunk and Jackson was tugging his pants down his thighs, and then leaning over with his mouth open and, oh.
So. Yeah.
They fell asleep that night wrapped around each other, sharing a bed like they had at sleepovers when they were little kids. But in the morning, when they were nursing twin headaches, Jackson refused to say a word about it. The next Monday he gave Lydia flowers and they un-broke up or whatever. And honestly, Danny felt a little weird about it, but his whole thing was letting confused guys experiment. And Jackson was his very best friend, after all.
*
Danny's mom finally ran out of steam, and after some fast talking, he convinced his parents they didn't need to stay the night. The doctor thought he'd probably be better within a few hours, and now that he was in a hospital with medical professionals looking after him, he wasn't even too freaked out.
His mother leaned down to kiss his forehead before she swept out, and his dad hesitated.
"You really are in trouble," he said.
"I know," Danny sighed.
"But we're glad you're okay," he continued. "And -- you know we support you, son, don't you? It's isn't about..."
"Dad, of course," Danny said. "I know that."
"Okay." His dad looked a little embarrassed about it, but he did the same thing his mom had, leaning down to kiss Danny's forehead.
"We want you to be who you are. We love you for who you are. We just also need to make sure you're safe."
"I know," Danny said, the guilt creeping back in a little.
"Okay. Good. Call us when you're able, and... just, be good, Danny, okay?"
"I will," Danny said. "Promise."
*
Isaac wasn't the only one of Danny's random make out partners he just couldn't figure out. Maybe the most confusing was Boyd. If Isaac had been lonely and anxious, then Boyd was lonely and suspicious. Danny didn't really know Boyd at all, but had seen him around. There weren't that many non-white kids at the school, so he stuck out, even though he seemed to be off by himself most of the time. He sat alone at lunch, he sat in the back in classes, and he never raised his hand. So Danny was never sure what to say to him, until he walked past Boyd in the video game aisle at Best Buy, and saw Boyd clutching a copy of Skyrim, reading the back cover copy.
"It's really good," Danny said, nodding at the game in Boyd's hands. When Boyd just stared at him, he added, "I played for fifteen hours on Sunday. It's awesome. In case you were on the fence."
He laughed a little awkwardly, and Boyd scowled. "I'm not on the fence. My piece of shit computer won't even play it."
"Oh," Danny said guiltily as Boyd stuck it back on the display.
"I'm saving up," Boyd added, after a too-long pause. "You know, to get a computer that's not a piece of shit. I should have one by college, maybe."
"That'll be... that'll be good for college," Danny said. Then, the only thing he could think of, "You could come over sometime. We could play... something, I guess? I've got a bunch of stuff for my X-Box, too, so... I dunno, if you ever want to."
Boyd stared at him again, then shook his head a little. "Did someone put you up to this?"
"What?"
Boyd just waited. And so did Danny, confused and embarrassed and not sure what the hell was going on.
Finally, Boyd looked away. "Sorry, I just -- I wasn't exactly expecting the most popular guy at school to ask me to hang out."
"I'm not the most popular anything," Danny said.
The look Boyd gave him actually said bitch, please, as if he'd spoken it aloud. Danny flushed.
"Anyway," Danny said, trying to break the tension, "if I'm popular, it's just because everyone thinks I'm easy."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, you know. That Danny Mahealani, he'll hook up with any guy who wants to, that's what they say, right?" Danny said, almost laughing, because he had no idea what the hell was going on.
"Is it true?" Boyd asked.
Danny shrugged a little. "Yeah, sure, why? Do you want to make out?"
Now it was Boyd's turn to look completely startled, thrown off. He didn't say anything at all, which meant... well, it meant that Danny was suddenly back on familiar ground. "You should definitely come over some time."
"I... yeah, okay," Boyd said. "I guess. Sure. Yeah."
When he finally did get around to coming over, after a few weeks of Danny smiling and waving at him in the hallway, they never got around to playing anything at all. But they still had such a good time that, limbs tangled together on the couch, Danny said, "You should come to Lydia's party with me this weekend."
"Me?" Boyd said. "Go to a party at Lydia Martin's house?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Because I don't want everyone to make fun of me forever," Boyd said. "And I don't want everyone to think I'm just some... just some starstruck member of the Danny Mahealani fanclub."
"What?" Danny asked. "What are you talking about?"
"Nothing. I should go." Boyd started to disentangle himself, but Danny grabbed his arm.
"What are you talking about?" Danny asked again.
Boyd yanked his arm free. "Half the guys at school are in love with you. Those boys you hook up with? And then never bother to talk to again? Your best buds never let them live it down. I get enough shit without Jackson Whittemore noticing I'm alive. No thanks."
Danny swallowed hard, not sure what that meant, but said, "I didn't -- I wouldn't let anyone tease you."
"Whatever," Boyd said. "Just don't tell anyone I was here, okay? This was fun, but..." He shook his head. "I should go."
Danny didn't stop him, just followed him downstairs and shut the door behind him, confused and unhappy, and for basically the first time, wishing he hadn't said yes quite so much.
*
Danny thought it would be nice to finally be left to his own devices, without his parents lecturing him or Sheriff Stilinski asking him questions. He really just wanted some time to think.
Not that he got any. Scott's mom walked in and gave him a smile. She held up a glass of water with a straw and said, "I thought you might like something. Here, let me hold it for you."
It was kind of awkward and weird, having her stand there and hold the glass so he could turn his head and use the straw, but it felt good in his throat, nice and cool. He hadn't even realized how parched he was.
"There you go," she said, when he turned his head away, finished. "Hey, Danny, can I ask you something?"
"Uh, sure, I guess." Though he already had déjà vu about this, considering what Stiles's dad had asked.
Sure enough, she said, "Is Scott... do you think Scott ever... I mean, you probably don't know him that well, but he..."
"Ms. McCall, don't worry about it," Danny said, almost laughing. He actually thought Scott was kind of adorable, but... "Trust me. Scott is the straightest guy I know."
*
Danny was about to get into his car when Stiles walked up, dragging Scott with him. Literally dragging, one hand fisted around Scott's collar.
"Can you do something about him?" Stiles demanded.
Danny blinked. "Huh?"
"Stiles, this is stupid." Scott scuffed his sneaker against the blacktop.
"Shut up, Scott. Danny, come on. You'll make out with anyone, right? Scott, he's really good at it. You'll have fun."
"But I don't want to make out with Danny. No offense," Scott said. "I'm sure you're really great and all, but Allison." He sighed.
"Allison broke up with you," Stiles said. "And Danny, here, will take your mind off it. Won't you, Danny?"
Danny shrugged, leaning back against his car. "I don't know. Jackson would probably murder me. He's been kind of a dick lately."
"Lately?" Stiles muttered, then, "Come on man, seriously. Isn't Scott adorable? Look how adorable he is." He pinched Scott's cheek. "I bet he gets all blush-y and stammer-y and everything. Not that I've thought about it. And don't you just want to tousle this hair?" Stiles demonstrated, and he had a point. Scott's hair was definitely made to be tousled.
"Stiles!" Scott hissed, ducking away from him. "This was a stupid idea. He doesn't want to, anyway."
"I wouldn't go that far," Danny said, and then glanced around the parking lot. Practice was over and Jackson's Porsche was already gone. "Come on, get in. I'll drop you off at home after."
"Yes!" Stiles cheered, and shoved Scott further towards the car. "Get in. Have fun. And Danny, do you think you could train him Pavlov-style to stop thinking about A-L-L-I-S-O-N? Like, I don't know, kiss him every time he starts whining about her?"
"Wouldn't that just be positive reinforcement?" Danny asked.
Stiles laughed, shoved Scott towards Danny again, and hurried off. Scott looked at Danny guiltily. "You don't really have to..."
Danny looked Scott over again, from his fluffy hair down to his untied sneaker. The guy had always been pretty cute, in a sensitive-guy-who-probably-takes-art-classes way, and since he'd stepped up his lacrosse game... well, Danny was impressed by guys with good moves on the field.
"Come on," Danny said again. "Let's see if I can't help you get over your girl problems."
As it turned out, no, Danny couldn't really help at all, but he still made a valiant effort. And when Scott stopped explaining his girl woes for long enough to actually kiss, he was a pretty decent kisser. But yeah, mostly he just wanted to talk about how Allison, who was the prettiest, nicest, prettiest, smartest, prettiest girl in the world, had broken up with him, and what was he going to do now?
In the end, Danny sighed, promised to put in a good word for him if he ran into Allison, and dropped him off at home. No wonder Stiles had sounded so annoyed. And it was kind of a tragic loss, really, because Scott was totally cute.
*
Finally left alone, Danny relaxed on the stiff hospital bed. Experimentally, he tried to wiggle his fingers and toes, and he thought maybe it worked a tiny bit, but he couldn't really tell for sure. He sighed and shut his eyes.
At least he had the room to himself. There had to have been a dozen intakes from the club, plus whatever the hospital got normally, so that was pretty remarkable. Not that he'd have minded sharing a room too much (maybe his mom would have shortened the lecture with someone else listening), as long as it was with someone friendly. And not, say, Trevor. Trevor, who was in the hospital somewhere, too, hit by the same drug or whatever it was that had caused all this.
It served him right.
*
They'd been at an away game about forty minutes from home and won it handily -- playing other schools in the area wasn't even fair anymore, since the Beacon Hills team had been to state four out of the last five years. They wiped the field with pretty much everyone. But even so, by the time the game ended, the sun had set and the school had emptied of everyone but athletes.
"Hey, hurry it up, I've got stuff to do tonight," Jackson bitched as they gathered up their gear.
"Stuff, huh? Does Lydia know you call her that?"
Jackson rolled his eyes and Danny laughed. Jackson and Lydia had actually been getting along lately, not just dating because as the team captain and the school's mean-girl-in-chief they felt obligated to. Though Jackson had been getting kind of twitchy in the last couple of weeks, so it was probably only a matter of time before they imploded again.
"Just hurry up if you don't want to get stuck on the bus."
"Yeah, yeah." Danny finished lacing up his sneakers, shouldered his duffle bag, and straightened up. Jackson, being Jackson, didn't deign to ride a school bus ever, not even with the team to games. He drove himself, and he drove Danny, because Danny's best friend status had earned him permanent shotgun in the Porsche, and he was pretty sure Jackson would never actually abandon him, no matter how long he took getting ready to go.
As he stood, he saw someone standing nearby. Not one of their team members, who'd all headed down towards the bus, or even one of the players from the other team. He was wearing tight jeans and had an earring and whoa, the look he was giving Danny. Danny wasn't used to that. Usually, the guys who checked him out were shy and unsure, not smirking and self confident.
"Do we know you?" Jackson snapped at him.
"Nope. I don't think so." He barely glanced at Jackson before going right back to watching Danny. "I'm Trevor. You're Danny, right? I heard some of the guys on the team talking about you at school today."
"Did they say anything interesting?" Danny asked, ignoring Jackson's you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me look.
"Well, they weren't talking about lacrosse."
"You like lacrosse?"
"Not really." Trevor grinned at him. "But I like lacrosse players."
"Dude," Jackson interrupted. "I already said, I need to get going. Are you coming or what?"
"I, uh." Danny glanced at Trevor, then over at Jackson. "You know what, I think I'll probably be able to find my own way home."
"Definitely," Trevor said.
"Whatever." Jackson grabbed his own duffle bag, slid on his sunglasses, and knocked his shoulder into Danny's as he passed by. But he turned around to walk backwards for a few paces and added, "His curfew is 10:30, have him home on time or else. Danny, call me if you need me to pick you up."
"I won't," Danny said, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, well... if you do."
"I won't. Didn't you have stuff you were supposed to be doing?"
Jackson scowled at him, but spun around to stalk towards the parking lot. Trevor raised his eyebrows. "He kind of sounds like a jealous boyfriend, does he know that? Wait, he's not your boyfriend, right?"
"He wishes," Danny said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "So is there anywhere to eat around here?"
*
Things with Trevor had been good for awhile. A little bit difficult, because even though 45 minutes wasn't exactly long distance, it was far enough for high schoolers. They were both busy pretty much all the time, Danny with the team and school and programming and Trevor with painting and doing lighting design for his school's drama club. But they texted constantly, saw each other on weekends, and made out in Danny's car whenever possible. It was the first real relationship Danny had ever been in, David and Tom in eighth grade aside.
The issue was that Trevor was kind of jealous. Danny was a flirt, true. He always had been, and his willingness to flirt with basically anyone was probably why so many guys felt okay coming to him when they were questioning. But every time he smiled at a waiter or the guy who ripped tickets at the movie theater, Trevor would get all pissy about it.
And Trevor got really, really jealous over Jackson. Which maybe Danny got on some level, because Jackson was definitely hot and he did kind of give off gay vibes -- well, whatever, Jackson was still figuring things out -- but they were best friends. It didn't matter if Jackson was gay or not, because Danny wasn't interested in him anyway. So he really needed Trevor to chill out.
Yes, he spent a lot of time with Jackson. They sat together in most classes, because Jackson was way smarter than anyone gave him credit for and was taking mostly honors with Danny and Lydia. And they played lacrosse together, obviously. And hung out together a lot because they were best friends. But there was nothing between them, and Trevor being jealous was really uncool. He got all bitchy and passive aggressive, to the point where Danny felt like he couldn't even mention Jackson in passing. Which was kind of a problem, since he spent a lot of time with Jackson and it meant he pretty much couldn't talk about his life at all. But maybe that was fine with Trevor, who seemed way more into talking about himself than anything else.
Though given how jealous Trevor was over Jackson, who Danny could never think of like that, it was a good thing he wasn't there when Danny met Derek Hale, who seemed to have been specifically designed by god to be thought of like that.
*
Danny's car was pretty reliable -- that was why his parents had picked it out for him -- but every car had trouble sometimes. The check engine light came on his way home from a lacrosse game, and he ignored it. That was how most people handled things like that, he was pretty sure. But as he was rolling through the woodsiest part of Beacon Hills, his car started to sputter weirdly and it felt a little out of control. He pulled over, turned it off --
And it didn't turn back on.
"God damn it," he mumbled, grabbing his phone as he slid out. He popped the hood open, as if he knew anything about cars, and stared at the engine blankly. Nothing was on fire or lit in neon saying this is broken!, so he had no idea what to do.
Well, some idea. He called his dad, who told him to call Triple-A, who said they'd send a tow truck. But it was after the two garages in town had closed, which meant it was going to take awhile to arrive. And in the mean time, Danny was stuck standing there alone in the dark next to his car, lost in the woods, without so much as a street light. He couldn't even see the moon through the tree branches overhead.
"Need a jump?"
He almost jumped out of his skin, flailing, and spun to see maybe the most attractive man in the entire world standing a few feet down the road. He was familiar, but it took Danny a second to place him, since as far as he knew, Stiles's impossibly hot cousin didn't speak English.
Though right now he was looking at Danny like Danny was the one who couldn't talk.
Danny swallowed and sputtered, "You can jump me." Then, at the raised eyebrow, "I mean, um -- I mean, I called for help already. I'm good. I'm fine."
Cousin Miguel glanced down and back up Danny's body, and said, "You sure are."
Danny felt his face heat up, because Miguel -- he wasn't like the guys who Danny usually flirted with. He was an adult, for one thing, not some high school kid. And aside from that, he basically looked like one of Danny's wet dreams come to life, all stubble and leather and intimidating.
"Um, I don't, I can't, I," Danny paused, took a breath, and made himself focus. He sounded like a babbling idiot. "I don't see your car, you couldn't give me a jump anyway."
Miguel gestured down the road. "I live pretty near here. Heard you calling for help."
"Oh." He must have lived really nearby, then, to overhear it. But it was hard to make out anything through the trees that lined the road, so his house could be right on the other side and Danny wouldn't even know. "Must be nice, living so near your cousin."
"My..." He trailed off, then laughed. "Oh. Stiles. Yeah, my.... cousin.
"You're not really related to him, are you?" Danny guessed. "Is your name even really Miguel?"
"Derek," he said. "Hale."
Danny nodded a little. The name seemed familiar, but -- wait. Holy shit. He stared at Derek and took a few steps back. "Oh my god. Oh my god, the police were looking for -- wait, what was I an accessory to? What did you do?"
Derek held his hands up. "Calm down. I didn't do anything. I was exonerated. And you weren't an accessory to anything, okay?"
"What were you doing at Stiles's house, then? How do you even know him?"
"Why are you asking so many question?" Derek's voice was kind of low and rumbly, and Danny took another step back. Derek was really hot, but in a really dangerous kind of way. No wonder the police had been suspicious of him. But after a second his expression softened a little. "Stiles says you've got a boyfriend now. So no more checking out shirtless strangers."
Danny laughed awkwardly, feeling his cheeks go red. "I, uh, yeah."
Derek took a few steps forward, then stopped, leaning against the car. "I'll wait with you until the tow gets here."
"You don't have to --" Danny started.
"Strange things have been happening in the woods lately," Derek interrupted, his face an expression that Danny couldn't read. "It's not safe to be here alone."
"Oh," Danny said. "Um. Then thanks. I guess."
Derek made a noncommittal noise, and didn't say anything else.
*
Nothing had happened with Derek. There was no reason for Trevor to be jealous. Not that Trevor actually needed reasons. But still, Trevor was fun and artistic and definitely hot, so Danny dealt with the jealousy thing. On Saturdays, he drove out to Trevor's place and they spent hours lying around Trevor's rec room, watching movies and making out, and then going way further than making out, and then...
Trevor was actually more experienced than Danny, when it came down to it. Maybe he hadn't hooked up with as many different guys, but he'd already had sex and said it was no big deal. So it had only taken a few weekends before things moved from the rec room to the bedroom. Danny was really nervous the first time (well, the first few times, actually) but it turned out that it really wasn't a huge deal.
When he'd sort of embarrassedly confessed to Jackson that his V-card had finally expired, Jackson had saluted him with his flask and then pressed for details about who was on top and what they'd done and... it was kind of weird, but it was also very Jackson. Somehow the news got around the locker room within a day or two, and he got a bunch of backslaps and congratulations. Which was why he felt okay inviting Trevor to the formal.
The formal... had not gone well. Not in any sense. It ended up with Lydia in the hospital and the news that either a murderer or another animal was on the loose, which was the big thing. But at a more personal level, the amount of bitching Trevor did after Scott had all but thrown himself into Danny's arms was really not fun. As if it had been Danny's idea. (Not that Danny would have minded under other circumstances -- Scott was definitely adorable -- but still.)
And it didn't help that freaking Greenberg had mentioned to Trevor about how everyone was totally bummed Danny was no longer available for random hookups. Which had led to Trevor discovering that all of those rumors he'd heard about Danny before they'd gotten together -- that Danny had been absolutely everyone's gay experiment -- were true. Maybe Danny hadn't been totally undiscriminating (he hadn't, for example, ever made out with Greenberg, which he was increasingly glad about) but also generally pretty willing.
Trevor had not been happy to hear that.
Never mind that it had all been before they'd gotten together. Never mind that Trevor was more experienced. Never mind that it didn't matter. The night had ended with Trevor storming off and not answering Danny's calls, which just pissed Danny off, so when Trevor called him the next day he didn't answer, and the whole thing was so, so stupid.
But they'd worked it out, because they really did like each other. A lot. Actually, kind of, really a lot. Which was why Danny felt so guilty when he met the one guy Trevor probably should have been jealous of.
Continue.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, there would be way more Danny, so clearly, not mine.
Rating/warnings: T (cursing, references to sex, nothing explicit)
Pairings: Danny/Jackson, Danny/Stiles, Danny/Scott, Danny/Isaac, Danny/Boyd, Danny/Derek, Danny/Matt, Danny/OC.
Notes: Very mildly inspired by this. Takes place in/after/around 2x06 (Frenemy), but I started writing it before then, so details have been jossed. Thanks to my darling beloved lielabell for beta reading and cheerleading.
Summary: Lying paralyzed in a hospital bed, Danny doesn't have much to do but let his mind wander and remember the string of hookups and relationships that brought him to the Jungle in the first place. (Or: Danny/Everyone.)
One moment, Danny was dancing with a hard body, trying to shout his name over the music, and doing his best to keep his gaze off of Trevor, his ex, who was only a few feet away. The next moment, he was flat on his back, his head aching where it smashed onto the dance floor, dance partner out cold next to him. He couldn't move -- could barely breathe --
The panic hit and everyone started screaming. Feet crashed around him, a stampede as people tried to get the fuck out, away from -- from --
He saw a flash of something huge and green and scaly --
Time slowed to a crawl and all Danny could feel was the ache in his skull. He dimly heard someone ask, "Can anyone move?" and then someone else piped up, "What the hell happened?" and, "What the fuck was that thing?"
But none of them could move. At all.
The lights flared to life and a squad of EMTs and police rushed in. Even as a team hoisted him onto a stretcher, a deputy was trying to take his statement. But he hadn't seen anything, didn't know what the hell had happened. He'd been dancing, and then on the floor. Just like that. Panic bubbled up in his chest with nowhere to go as an EMT wheeled him towards the ambulance.
"Danny!" Of all people, Scott McCall appeared next to his stretcher. Danny stared at up at him.
"McCall? What are you doing here?" Danny asked. Because Scott was... well, not exactly the type of guy who hung out at the Jungle.
"Just seeing if you're okay," he said, which didn't answer the question at all. "And... wondering if anything weird happened to you today. Besides being paralyzed from the neck down." The EMT told Scott he had to go, but Scott didn't move. "One more question, just one. Are you okay?"
Danny actually almost laughed, since he didn't have any other outlet for his hysteria. He had no idea what the hell had happened to him, he couldn't move his body at all. And he'd had a shitty week, thanks to Trevor, and Jackson had ditched him even though going out had been his idea, and what the fuck was happening?
His voice wavered a little when he asked the only other thing he could think of: "Did it happen to my ex, too?"
Scott looked around. "Yeah."
Danny half-laughed, sure it sounded manic, but who could blame him? "Then I'm great."
Scott patted his shoulder awkwardly and looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead he bolted and the EMT loaded the stretcher into the ambulance.
He tried to stretch, to wiggle his fingers, but he couldn't do it. All he could see was the ambulance's roof. He couldn't steady himself as it shook, speeding towards the hospital, and with a neck brace on he couldn't even twist his head to see who was in the stretcher next to his. All he could do was stare upwards and let his mind wander.
*
Jackson was Danny's first kiss. His first few kisses, to be strictly accurate.
They were twelve years old, and it was the summer before seventh grade. Jackson was obsessed with how different junior high was going to be. They were so much more mature now, and the girls were really developed, and they'd get to play on the junior high lacrosse team, and everything was going to be different and amazing.
Except...
"We can't go to junior high without having kissed anyone." Jackson elbowed Danny so Danny would look up from his computer, and he looked a little hurt that Danny just rolled his eyes and went back to what he was doing. "I mean, come on. Of course I'm going to have a girlfriend, like, immediately. You will too, probably. But what if -- what if they expect us to already know how to kiss? What if they've already kissed, like, high school guys?"
Now Danny bothered to look up. Instead of telling Jackson he wasn't exactly sure he wanted a girlfriend, he just said, "High school guys don't kiss seventh graders."
"Well, still. What if... I'm just saying, we should practice. In case."
"With who?"
Jackson grinned at him, his let's-take-my-dad's-car-for-a-joy-ride, I-totally-know-how-to-drive grin. The grin that meant Jackson had a terrible idea, and Danny was the one who was going to get in trouble for it. But it was going to be a ton of fun right up until they got busted.
And that was when Jackson kissed him.
*
They wheeled him from the ambulance into the hospital, took a whole lot of vitals, checked his ID -- his fake ID -- to do his intake, and he managed to talk his way out of giving them anyone's contact info for him, once someone had said it looked like everyone from the club would be okay in not too long. He didn't really need his parents to know what had happened, and he'd find a way to deal with the bill. It wouldn't be the first time he made something like that vanish.
Not that the hacking-to-cover-his-tracks incident a few year ago had ended well. But still.
Eventually they wheeled him into a room and transferred him to a real bed. It was jarring and a little scary, the way his limbs just dropped, no matter how hard he tried to tense them. With the neck brace gone, he could turn his head from side to side and nod, but he couldn't even feel anything below his neck.
He was actually starting to panic, freaking out as he realized just how screwed he was, when a doctor came in to take more of his blood. "What did you have to drink tonight?" he asked, gruff.
"Not much. Just a beer. Didn't even finish it," Danny said.
"You're sure that was it? Did you see the bartender make it? Did you notice anything odd about it?"
"Whoa. No one roofied me," Danny said, his mind reeling.
"Did you take anything else? Or have physical contact with anyone else?"
"I was kind of dancing, so, um," he felt himself flush, "yeah, there was contact. But mostly through clothes."
The doctor frowned. "Well, this had to be transmitted somehow."
"Transmitted? What do you think this is?"
"We don't know yet. A new drug, maybe, or a toxin, something easily spread. Something to cause panic and hallucinations and paralysis. I've never seen anything like it. But all the indications are that it's temporary, so... I need to get this to the lab."
He hurried off with the vial of blood, leaving Danny to his thoughts. So he wasn't the only one who'd seen something crazy... but what had everyone else seen? Probably not a lizard monster. But why would he hallucinate that, of all things?
Maybe when he'd hit the floor, he'd just caught a glimpse of someone's tacky alligator skin boots.
But the whole thing just felt weird and wrong, like it made his skin crawl.
*
The hacking incident started with a boy. His name was David, and Danny met him at summer camp when he was 13. The program his parents had found him (nerd camp, Jackson called it, when he found out that they weren't going to camp together for the first time ever) was two weeks living in a college dorm, learning some basic programming stuff and all kinds of computer things. Except Danny already knew how to program -- he'd taught himself the previous summer when he'd been bored, and it came to him as naturally as breathing and lacrosse. So while everyone else did homework, Danny flirted with David. Who flirted right back.
It was awesome. Especially the part where they made out in the stairwell before lights-out almost every night.
Camp ending was less awesome. David lived in Rhode Island, which meant the chances of them seeing each other again were not great. But they had email and phone calls and texts. It was the texts that got Danny in trouble. His family didn't have an unlimited texting plan, and he hadn't paid much attention to how many he'd sent, and, well...
Jackson was a jerk, and apparently hated David even though he'd never met him, so of course Jackson laughed when Danny realized exactly how many times a day he texted David. His parents were going to murder him when they saw the bill. Danny hadn't figured he'd be able to do much about it, but pulled up the phone company's website just to check. He guessed his dad's password easily enough and just started poking around, seeing if there was a way to change their plan or something without his parents knowing. Not that they'd go without noticing once they got the higher bill, but they'd probably blame the phone company for the screw up, and it would be fine.
What he actually found was the login for company employees who set up new accounts. And it only took a little bit of fiddling before he found a way in, and from there it was easy enough to find his parents' account and just delete the charges. No problem at all. Or it wouldn't have been if he hadn't tried to talk David through how to do the same thing from his end. But David got caught, and the next thing Danny knew, Sheriff Stilinksi and a phone company rep were banging on his door, and they actually took him down to the station.
Despite what Jackson liked to claim whenever it came up, he did not cry. Much. Jackson wasn't even there at the time, so what did he know?
Of course they dropped the charges, because he was just a kid, and all he'd ended up with was a stern talking to from the sheriff. Which was enough to convince him he probably shouldn't attempt any more hacking. Even if it had been ridiculously easy to do.
His parents had not been happy, though. His mother ranted and his father looked disappointed, and they grounded him forever. They also enrolled him in every community service program they could find. He did everything from picking up trash on the highway to serving in soup kitchens to working in the community garden.
Actually, that last one was kind of great. Because the hippie family that ran the garden had a son named Tom, who was sun-blond and permanently barefoot, and who liked rolling around on freshly-cut lawns. He squirmed when Danny held him down and shoved grass clippings down his shirt, but the red in his face wasn't from the sun, and when Danny kissed him... well, Danny missed David a little less after that. After their fourth time making out behind the tomato patch, Danny asked Tom out on a proper date and everything.
In a town as small as Beacon Hills, two boys showing up to a movie holding hands and then walking to dinner together was the sort of thing people noticed. Danny had never given much thought to coming out. Liking boys didn't feel like a big deal to him; it didn't define him any more than being great with computers or good at lacrosse did. But somehow, when word got around to his parents, they still wanted to sit him down and talk about it.
Danny didn't have anything to say other than yes. Like, yes he and Tom were kind of dating, and yes he was pretty sure he was gay. No big deal. But his mom kissed his forehead and his father hugged him and that was that, settled.
Except, annoyingly, he had to settle it again when Jackson came up to him with wide eyes and reported that there were all kinds of rumors about him. Danny just rolled his eyes and said yes yet again when Jackson asked him if they were true, if he really was into boys. Jackson's eyes got even wider somehow, and even though he swore up and down that it was totally cool, that it didn't change a thing, he seemed pretty freaked out. But whatever; Jackson freaked out all the time, about really stupid things, and he'd deal with it. Danny never for a moment doubted that.
In fact, the only doubt or worry he had was when school started up, and one of the guys on the team asked him if he was gay. Danny wasn't going to lie, but it was the most awkward yes he'd ever said, and he braced himself to see how the team would react.
But all anyone on the team ever said was, "Cool."
*
"Stiles said they were just there to support Danny..."
Danny's ears perked up, hearing his name, and he wished he could sit up or shift closer to listen in. So Stiles had been at the Jungle, too. Of course he had, since he and Scott did everything together and Scott had shown up. But what did just there to support Danny meant?
"So you don't think the two of them are...?" a woman returned.
"No. I mean. Do you?"
"He's still pretty hung up on Allison. But we'll definitely be having a talk about what he was doing at a club. He's not even 17 yet!"
Danny finally placed the voices: Sheriff Stilinski, and -- he didn't know her name, but Scott's mom. Danny had torn a muscle playing lacrosse two years ago, and she'd been the nurse who'd taken care of him. He bit down a smirk. Scott's mom and Stiles's dad thought the two of them were maybe dating?
That would be...kind of stupidly cute, actually. But if they'd been making up excuses for why they'd been at the Jungle, Danny was sure as heck not going to be the one who outed them.
*
Danny had never outed anyone. But he totally knew who at school was gay, because they all tended to come to him for help figuring things out. Which was awkward, bi-curious teenage boy code for asking to make out with him.
Like everything non-hacking-related in his life, that was Jackson's fault. At the beginning of ninth grade, on one of the many, many days when Jackson just felt like being an ass, he'd started a rumor that Danny was so desperate that he'd screw around with absolutely anyone who asked. No one had taken it seriously, and when Danny heard, he punched Jackson's shoulder. Jackson just gave him that shit-eating grin of his and said, "Hey, just trying to help you get some, bro."
But the thing was, it kind of...worked. Because a few days later, a guy two years ahead of them had come up to Danny, all nervous and awkward, and said that he wasn't sure what was going on with him, but his family would flip out and he couldn't tell them anything unless he was sure, and how could he be sure if he never tried anything, and he just wanted to see if he'd like kissing a boy.
Which, as it turned out, he did. Though he never came out, which meant that they only made out the once. Well... twice. Well, twice in the locker room, and once in his car, but that was it.
Danny never said a word about it. Just because he knew his parents hadn't cared at all when he came out, and all of his friends and family were totally cool with him, that didn't mean everyone would be so lucky. But apparently his new friend let word slip at some point, because it became kind of a regular thing. Curious boys, nervous and not even sure what to say, would come up to Danny and stutter. It didn't take long for Danny to learn how to put them at ease, to coax them into a kiss, and -- if they seemed to like it, which they almost always did -- to just see how things went from there.
Statistically speaking, Danny knew a handful of students at school had to be gay or bi, even though only a few others were out. But his practical knowledge said that a handful wasn't even close to covering it.
*
Sheriff Stilinski stepped into the room and leaned into Danny's field of vision. Danny managed to turn his head to see him more easily.
"So, the ID you've got in your wallet says that you're a 22-year-old named Danny Maloney." He raised his eyebrows. "Funny thing, because I'm pretty sure you're on the lacrosse team with my son. My 16-year-old son."
"Yeah, that is... that is funny," Danny said.
"I called your parents, Danny." He shook his head a little. "I hope you take the fact that you ended up in the hospital as a sign that you shouldn't be breaking the law. I hope I don't have to bring you down to the station."
Again, hung between them unsaid. But unlike when Danny was thirteen and had been caught hacking, he wasn't overcome with terror. Instead, he tried to give the sheriff his most charming smile. If half the boys on the lacrosse team were to be believed, it was pretty damn charming.
"I'm sure my parents will ground me until I graduate, so I don't think you'll have to worry," he said.
Sheriff Stilinski laughed. "I know you're upset about your break up, son, but there are ways to blow off steam that don't involve underage drinking."
"Yes, sir," Danny agreed, wondering how the sheriff even knew about Trevor.
"Next time the boys want to take you out to cheer you up, maybe just a movie or something, okay?"
Ohhh. So that was what Stiles had told his dad to explain why he and Scott were at the Jungle. "I'll make sure to suggest that," Danny agreed.
Sheriff Stilinski hesitated. "Danny, you wouldn't happen to know if Stiles is... no, you know what, I should talk to him myself."
"Probably for the best," Danny said.
*
Sheriff Stilinski would probably eventually ask Stiles about it. He seemed like a pretty okay guy, as authority figures (never Danny's favorite people) went, and considering Stiles was Stiles, yeah, it was a conversation that was going to happen eventually. It would probably be awkward and end with hugs. Danny was pretty familiar with that kind of conversation.
But not everyone was lucky enough to expect hugs from their parents. Like Isaac Lahey.
Danny didn't know what the hell was going on there. No one seemed to, and all the rumors that went around the school when Mr. Lahey died and Isaac disappeared were pretty crazy. Danny didn't think Isaac had it in him to hurt anyone, though. Okay, so Isaac was way different and kind of scary these days, since he'd come back to school after being cleared of all charges, but the only time Danny had really interacted with him, he'd thought Isaac was more lonely and anxious than anything else. Definitely not some kind of psychokiller.
The Isaac thing happened at one of Jackson's parties, which Isaac had not actually been invited to. It wasn't even much of a party, just the first-string lacrosse guys and a few of their girlfriends, with some booze Jackson had lifted from his parents' liquor cabinet. Slightly buzzed, they'd decided to go play tag in the graveyard across the road from Jackson's stupidly big house.
When Danny saw Isaac, he actually thought he was staring at a ghost -- seriously, the kid was pale and gaunt and Danny hadn't been expecting him. He was perched on the porch of a run-down little house on the other side of the graveyard, which Danny hadn't realized anyone actually lived in.
It took him a few seconds to place the guy. But Isaac slid down to sit on the porch, knees pulled up to his chest, and once Danny recognized him he realized it probably sucked for him to watch everyone goofing around without getting to join in. So he jogged over (narrowly avoiding getting tagged by Jackson, but he could totally outrun Jackson anytime, please) and helped himself to Isaac's porch, saying, "Hey."
Isaac looked like he might pass out.
Danny waited, then finally asked, "Uh, you live around here?"
"Yeah, uh, yeah." Isaac glanced back at the house. "But I'm locked out."
"Oh. That sucks. Is your mom gonna be home soon? To let you in?"
"Dad," Isaac said. "Nah. He's... away."
Danny frowned a little, because even though it was plenty warm out, where was the kid going to sleep, on the porch? "You want to come play?" Danny watched as Jackson caught one of the girls around the waist instead of tagging her, and she giggled, high pitched and drunk. "I'm pretty sure Jackson's got a flask on him, you could get caught up with the rest of us pretty fast." He reached out to poke at Isaac's ribs. The guy was tiny. "I bet you're a lightweight."
Isaac shied away, obviously uncomfortable, and shook his head.
After a minute, Jackson began hollering at everyone to head back inside for popcorn and movies. In other words, for make out time. Not that Danny had anyone at this party to make out with. Though... he stood up, and looked back down at Isaac.
"You want to come hang out? If you're locked out anyway, you might as well."
Isaac looked around desperately, as if someone was trying to sneak up on him, and said, "Jackson didn't invite me. And I --"
"I'm inviting you. Jackson'll deal."
"But he --"
"Seriously. Come on." Danny reached out to grab Isaac's hand, and Isaac let himself be hauled up. "If Jackson's a dick about it, I'll tell him you're my date. It'll shut him up."
Isaac looked wide-eyed and terrified at that, but since he didn't let go of Danny's hand, Danny didn't think it was homophobia or anything. And sure enough, inside, everyone piled back into Jackson's living room and all the couples began pairing off.
And sure enough again, Jackson did a doubletake when he saw Isaac and demanded, "What's he doing here?"
"He's with me," Danny said, wrapping an arm around Isaac's skinny middle.
"Seriously? Wait, with you or, like... with you?"
And because Danny knew it would make Jackson's eyes bug out, he said, "With me," and kissed Isaac's neck.
Jackson's eyes weren't the only ones that got so huge they almost fell out. Isaac's did, too. But Jackson left them alone after that, and Danny figured why the hell not? Isaac was skinny but he was cute with his unruly curls, so Danny tugged Isaac down into his lap. Isaac didn't object at all, and actually kind of curled up against his body. It took awhile for the tension to disappear from his frame, for him to really relax and cuddle up, fragile and small next to Danny. It made Danny feel weirdly protective of him.
An hour into the movie, when Danny sort of nuzzled at Isaac, nose to cheek, Isaac was pretty quick to turn to face Danny, to let Danny kiss him, to kiss back. He fisted a hand in Danny's shirt, grabbing on like it was a life raft, like he was afraid to let go.
Eventually, everyone drifted off to sleep, the TV still blaring. Danny definitely had his arms around Isaac, sprawled out over a couch, when they fell asleep.
Isaac was gone by the time Danny woke up. And though he shot Danny lingering looks occasionally after that, he ducked away whenever Danny tried to talk to him. Danny didn't know what to think of it, or what to think of him.
But he definitely liked the nervous, sweet version of Isaac better than the leather-jacketed kid he'd turned into.
*
The first thing Danny's mom said was, "Oh my god, honey, are you okay? Oh, my poor little boy," and she pressed her hand against his forehead. Which was weird, because Danny's mom wasn't exactly known for being demonstrative or easily panicked. Which meant she had to be really worried.
Guilt settled into his chest and he said, "I'm really fine, Mom. I didn't take anything or do anything or -- the doctor says they don't know what it is but it's definitely temporary. So I'll be fine."
"You will?" she asked, hauling over a chair to sit at his bedside. His father stepped further into his view. "Are you sure?"
"I promise."
"Oh, that's a relief," she said. Then, "And it's just as well you can't move, then, young man, because it means we've got a few hours to discuss how you're going to be grounded until college."
Danny groaned. Good to know his mother's concern had been a trap.
"I mean it," she continued, gesturing wildly. "Sneaking into a bar underage, my god. You told us you were going to Jackson's. What if you'd been hurt? Oh, wait, you were hurt."
"Mom," Danny started, and at her angry look, switched tactics. "Dad. I'm really sorry but I didn't do anything wrong --"
"Except use a fake ID to drink underage illegally," his father said mildly. Danny might have gotten his drive and determination from his mom, but his chill side came from his dad. The sarcasm came from both.
"It's not a big deal," Danny tried. "Other kids do it all the time. No one else's parents care --"
"No one else's parents are trying to raise a kid who's smart enough to take over the world and stupid enough to try it," his mom snapped. "It's our job not to let you get away with things like this, because then you'll -- you're so smart that if you'd stop making such idiotic decisions -- Danny, you are too good of a kid to end up lying in a hospital bed with god only knows what wrong with you!"
Danny was pretty sure there was actually some parental pride mixed in with that anger, which was kind of weird and out of place, but his parents had always been proud of how naturally school and computers and math came to him. His father put a steadying hand on his mother's shoulder.
"I'll call the soup kitchen in the morning," his dad said. "We'll keep your weekends busy with that for a few months."
Danny groaned.
"And you're not going out. Anywhere," his mother added. "Not until we're sure we can trust you. You come straight home after lacrosse practice, and you're not having any company over, either. Not even Jackson."
Well, that was going to suck.
Especially when his dad added, "We're taking away your laptop. You can use my office computer for your homework for awhile."
"But it's so slow," Danny whined, then, because whining wouldn't earn him any points, he tried, "What about partner assignments for class? Can I still have people over to work on those?"
His parents exchanged a look. Finally, his dad said, "Yes. But only when one of us is home. And you'll have to stay in the living room where we can...keep an eye on things."
Which meant that as subtle as Danny had tried to be all year, he was so, so busted.
*
Stiles Stilinski being bicurious was not even remotely surprising. He'd always been vocally fascinated by the fact that Danny was gay, which was frankly kind of annoying, and Stiles also joked around about his own sexuality too much for it to all be joking. Danny rolled his eyes each and every time, and just sort of waited, and, well...
It just seemed inevitable that, the week they were assigned to be chemistry lab partners together, the first thing Stiles said at one of their study sessions was, "So I hear that when lacrosse players want to see if they swing both ways, you're the guy to see."
"You're not a lacrosse player," Danny answered.
"Hey, ouch! I'm not a good lacrosse player, but I'm totally on the team," Stiles objected.
Danny made a kinda-sorta hand gesture at him.
"So does that mean I'm the one guy at Beacon Hills you won't make out with?"
Danny considered it for a minute. On the one hand, Stiles was annoying, but on the other hand... Danny just really liked making out. And Stiles wasn't really that annoying. He was more weird and geeky than anything else. "I didn't say that. But we're supposed to be studying."
"Please. Anyone who bothers to pay attention knows you've got a 3.9 average, and I haven't had anything below an A since they started letting me take tests in the library. I think we can put studying off for awhile."
"Well..." Danny spun around in his desk chair to face Stiles, who was hanging half off his bed. "For awhile, I guess."
In what Danny assumed was an attempt to be smooth, Stiles used a sneaker to snag the support under the rolling chair, but he failed utterly in that instead of dragging the chair closer, he somehow pulled himself off the bed and set the chair spinning. Danny laughed as he grabbed his desk to stop it, then slid off the chair to meet Stiles on the floor and pin his shoulders to the side of his bed, and, well. What Stiles lacked in smoothness and experience, he made up for with enthusiasm. It was way more fun than studying.
So yeah, that was all more or less what Danny expected.
He wasn't expecting when, three days later, Stiles opened their study session with, "So I was watching some gay porn." Once Danny finished choking on his soda, he continued, "Does your offer to be everyone's gay experiment extend past making out? Because there are some other things I'd like to try, I think."
"So does that mean you're gay?"
"What? No, I love Ly -- ladies," Stiles said quickly. "I just also, you know. Whatever."
Danny figured it was best to pretend he hadn't caught Stiles's word-slip, there, because he didn't feel like getting into a fight over whether or not Jackson deserved Lydia. "So what did you have in mind, then?" Danny asked instead.
"Well..."
Which was how Danny both gave and received his first handjob.
Three days after that, it was also how he discovered the joys of dryhumping, the hot friction of his dick between Stiles's thighs.
The next week, it was also how he awkwardly attempted fingering -- though he was way better at it than Stiles, who hadn't thought to trim his nails. Danny had kind of been enjoying things up until then, even if Stiles was a total spaz, but after that one, he wasn't all that sad when their chem unit ended and Stiles went back to being partners with Scott.
*
"Hey, sorry to interrupt." Scott's mom stuck her head into the room. Danny gave her a relieved smile, grateful to have his mom's tirade interrupted. He got why she was upset and angry, he did, but come on. Going to a club underage was so not a big deal. And he'd only had one drink. "David Whittemore just called, he heard something happened at the Jungle and wondered if Jackson might have been there with Danny."
She and his parents all looked at him expectantly.
"No," Danny said, glad it was the truth for a change, because Jackson... well, Jackson had been to the Jungle a few times. It always ended with him drunk and grinding on some stranger, and Danny having to drag him home before he could make a really poor life choice. And then Jackson never, ever, ever wanted to talk about it after.
Maybe it would have been for the best, if Jackson had ended up paralyzed too, so his parents had to come get him. He'd he finally have had no choice but to clue his parents in to what he was going through. It wasn't like Danny could say anything himself, since that would break his no-outing-guys rule, and Jackson hadn't ever exactly told him anything. Jackson was just... Jackson.
But he hadn't been there, so thankfully, Danny didn't have to lie. "Nope."
"Have you seen him? His parents thought he was at your house."
The looks Danny's mom gave him meant that she'd just found inspiration for another lecture, but before she could start, he said, "I haven't seen him since practice ended, but if he drops by I'll tell him to call home."
*
Jackson had been Danny's first kiss, and he was also Danny's first blowjob. Jackson and Lydia were on a break (she insisted) or broken up (Jackson's interpretation), and Jackson was trying his hardest to pretend he didn't care. Danny knew better, because he'd known Jackson since they were toddlers, and he could see through all of Jackson's bullshit and bluster.
So he said, "Dude, it's me, stop acting like a dick and tell me what's wrong."
Jackson didn't tell him anything, but he did stop acting like a dick. Which was saying something, for Jackson. So they didn't talk, just hung out in Jackson's room, sprawled out on his bed, splitting a bottle of vodka Jackson had borrowed from the liquor cabinet. They were pretty far into it, both gone past the point of even laughing and silliness, when Jackson said, "You're my best friend."
Danny grinned at him. "You're my best friend."
"No, I mean you... you're my best friend," Jackson said, and nudged Danny. "For real. I mean it."
"I know you do," Danny said, nudging Jackson back. "You're my best friend, too."
"'Kay," Jackson said, then stretched upwards. To get the bottle sitting on the headboard, Danny assumed, but actually Jackson sat up, then pushed over on to his knees and climbed on top of Danny, straddling his thighs.
"Dude, what's...?"
"Just, let me," Jackson mumbled, hand going to Danny's fly. "Because you're my best friend, okay? Just let me."
"Dude, you're... you're not my type," Danny managed, hoping to keep Jackson from doing something that he'd seriously regret later.
But when Danny tried to move, Jackson pressed his hips down, and gave him this look. And said, "Please, I need to. I want to, Danny, I want to."
Danny wanted to say something more, explain that this wasn't really the sort of thing best friends did, but he was drunk and Jackson was tugging his pants down his thighs, and then leaning over with his mouth open and, oh.
So. Yeah.
They fell asleep that night wrapped around each other, sharing a bed like they had at sleepovers when they were little kids. But in the morning, when they were nursing twin headaches, Jackson refused to say a word about it. The next Monday he gave Lydia flowers and they un-broke up or whatever. And honestly, Danny felt a little weird about it, but his whole thing was letting confused guys experiment. And Jackson was his very best friend, after all.
*
Danny's mom finally ran out of steam, and after some fast talking, he convinced his parents they didn't need to stay the night. The doctor thought he'd probably be better within a few hours, and now that he was in a hospital with medical professionals looking after him, he wasn't even too freaked out.
His mother leaned down to kiss his forehead before she swept out, and his dad hesitated.
"You really are in trouble," he said.
"I know," Danny sighed.
"But we're glad you're okay," he continued. "And -- you know we support you, son, don't you? It's isn't about..."
"Dad, of course," Danny said. "I know that."
"Okay." His dad looked a little embarrassed about it, but he did the same thing his mom had, leaning down to kiss Danny's forehead.
"We want you to be who you are. We love you for who you are. We just also need to make sure you're safe."
"I know," Danny said, the guilt creeping back in a little.
"Okay. Good. Call us when you're able, and... just, be good, Danny, okay?"
"I will," Danny said. "Promise."
*
Isaac wasn't the only one of Danny's random make out partners he just couldn't figure out. Maybe the most confusing was Boyd. If Isaac had been lonely and anxious, then Boyd was lonely and suspicious. Danny didn't really know Boyd at all, but had seen him around. There weren't that many non-white kids at the school, so he stuck out, even though he seemed to be off by himself most of the time. He sat alone at lunch, he sat in the back in classes, and he never raised his hand. So Danny was never sure what to say to him, until he walked past Boyd in the video game aisle at Best Buy, and saw Boyd clutching a copy of Skyrim, reading the back cover copy.
"It's really good," Danny said, nodding at the game in Boyd's hands. When Boyd just stared at him, he added, "I played for fifteen hours on Sunday. It's awesome. In case you were on the fence."
He laughed a little awkwardly, and Boyd scowled. "I'm not on the fence. My piece of shit computer won't even play it."
"Oh," Danny said guiltily as Boyd stuck it back on the display.
"I'm saving up," Boyd added, after a too-long pause. "You know, to get a computer that's not a piece of shit. I should have one by college, maybe."
"That'll be... that'll be good for college," Danny said. Then, the only thing he could think of, "You could come over sometime. We could play... something, I guess? I've got a bunch of stuff for my X-Box, too, so... I dunno, if you ever want to."
Boyd stared at him again, then shook his head a little. "Did someone put you up to this?"
"What?"
Boyd just waited. And so did Danny, confused and embarrassed and not sure what the hell was going on.
Finally, Boyd looked away. "Sorry, I just -- I wasn't exactly expecting the most popular guy at school to ask me to hang out."
"I'm not the most popular anything," Danny said.
The look Boyd gave him actually said bitch, please, as if he'd spoken it aloud. Danny flushed.
"Anyway," Danny said, trying to break the tension, "if I'm popular, it's just because everyone thinks I'm easy."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, you know. That Danny Mahealani, he'll hook up with any guy who wants to, that's what they say, right?" Danny said, almost laughing, because he had no idea what the hell was going on.
"Is it true?" Boyd asked.
Danny shrugged a little. "Yeah, sure, why? Do you want to make out?"
Now it was Boyd's turn to look completely startled, thrown off. He didn't say anything at all, which meant... well, it meant that Danny was suddenly back on familiar ground. "You should definitely come over some time."
"I... yeah, okay," Boyd said. "I guess. Sure. Yeah."
When he finally did get around to coming over, after a few weeks of Danny smiling and waving at him in the hallway, they never got around to playing anything at all. But they still had such a good time that, limbs tangled together on the couch, Danny said, "You should come to Lydia's party with me this weekend."
"Me?" Boyd said. "Go to a party at Lydia Martin's house?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Because I don't want everyone to make fun of me forever," Boyd said. "And I don't want everyone to think I'm just some... just some starstruck member of the Danny Mahealani fanclub."
"What?" Danny asked. "What are you talking about?"
"Nothing. I should go." Boyd started to disentangle himself, but Danny grabbed his arm.
"What are you talking about?" Danny asked again.
Boyd yanked his arm free. "Half the guys at school are in love with you. Those boys you hook up with? And then never bother to talk to again? Your best buds never let them live it down. I get enough shit without Jackson Whittemore noticing I'm alive. No thanks."
Danny swallowed hard, not sure what that meant, but said, "I didn't -- I wouldn't let anyone tease you."
"Whatever," Boyd said. "Just don't tell anyone I was here, okay? This was fun, but..." He shook his head. "I should go."
Danny didn't stop him, just followed him downstairs and shut the door behind him, confused and unhappy, and for basically the first time, wishing he hadn't said yes quite so much.
*
Danny thought it would be nice to finally be left to his own devices, without his parents lecturing him or Sheriff Stilinski asking him questions. He really just wanted some time to think.
Not that he got any. Scott's mom walked in and gave him a smile. She held up a glass of water with a straw and said, "I thought you might like something. Here, let me hold it for you."
It was kind of awkward and weird, having her stand there and hold the glass so he could turn his head and use the straw, but it felt good in his throat, nice and cool. He hadn't even realized how parched he was.
"There you go," she said, when he turned his head away, finished. "Hey, Danny, can I ask you something?"
"Uh, sure, I guess." Though he already had déjà vu about this, considering what Stiles's dad had asked.
Sure enough, she said, "Is Scott... do you think Scott ever... I mean, you probably don't know him that well, but he..."
"Ms. McCall, don't worry about it," Danny said, almost laughing. He actually thought Scott was kind of adorable, but... "Trust me. Scott is the straightest guy I know."
*
Danny was about to get into his car when Stiles walked up, dragging Scott with him. Literally dragging, one hand fisted around Scott's collar.
"Can you do something about him?" Stiles demanded.
Danny blinked. "Huh?"
"Stiles, this is stupid." Scott scuffed his sneaker against the blacktop.
"Shut up, Scott. Danny, come on. You'll make out with anyone, right? Scott, he's really good at it. You'll have fun."
"But I don't want to make out with Danny. No offense," Scott said. "I'm sure you're really great and all, but Allison." He sighed.
"Allison broke up with you," Stiles said. "And Danny, here, will take your mind off it. Won't you, Danny?"
Danny shrugged, leaning back against his car. "I don't know. Jackson would probably murder me. He's been kind of a dick lately."
"Lately?" Stiles muttered, then, "Come on man, seriously. Isn't Scott adorable? Look how adorable he is." He pinched Scott's cheek. "I bet he gets all blush-y and stammer-y and everything. Not that I've thought about it. And don't you just want to tousle this hair?" Stiles demonstrated, and he had a point. Scott's hair was definitely made to be tousled.
"Stiles!" Scott hissed, ducking away from him. "This was a stupid idea. He doesn't want to, anyway."
"I wouldn't go that far," Danny said, and then glanced around the parking lot. Practice was over and Jackson's Porsche was already gone. "Come on, get in. I'll drop you off at home after."
"Yes!" Stiles cheered, and shoved Scott further towards the car. "Get in. Have fun. And Danny, do you think you could train him Pavlov-style to stop thinking about A-L-L-I-S-O-N? Like, I don't know, kiss him every time he starts whining about her?"
"Wouldn't that just be positive reinforcement?" Danny asked.
Stiles laughed, shoved Scott towards Danny again, and hurried off. Scott looked at Danny guiltily. "You don't really have to..."
Danny looked Scott over again, from his fluffy hair down to his untied sneaker. The guy had always been pretty cute, in a sensitive-guy-who-probably-takes-art-classes way, and since he'd stepped up his lacrosse game... well, Danny was impressed by guys with good moves on the field.
"Come on," Danny said again. "Let's see if I can't help you get over your girl problems."
As it turned out, no, Danny couldn't really help at all, but he still made a valiant effort. And when Scott stopped explaining his girl woes for long enough to actually kiss, he was a pretty decent kisser. But yeah, mostly he just wanted to talk about how Allison, who was the prettiest, nicest, prettiest, smartest, prettiest girl in the world, had broken up with him, and what was he going to do now?
In the end, Danny sighed, promised to put in a good word for him if he ran into Allison, and dropped him off at home. No wonder Stiles had sounded so annoyed. And it was kind of a tragic loss, really, because Scott was totally cute.
*
Finally left alone, Danny relaxed on the stiff hospital bed. Experimentally, he tried to wiggle his fingers and toes, and he thought maybe it worked a tiny bit, but he couldn't really tell for sure. He sighed and shut his eyes.
At least he had the room to himself. There had to have been a dozen intakes from the club, plus whatever the hospital got normally, so that was pretty remarkable. Not that he'd have minded sharing a room too much (maybe his mom would have shortened the lecture with someone else listening), as long as it was with someone friendly. And not, say, Trevor. Trevor, who was in the hospital somewhere, too, hit by the same drug or whatever it was that had caused all this.
It served him right.
*
They'd been at an away game about forty minutes from home and won it handily -- playing other schools in the area wasn't even fair anymore, since the Beacon Hills team had been to state four out of the last five years. They wiped the field with pretty much everyone. But even so, by the time the game ended, the sun had set and the school had emptied of everyone but athletes.
"Hey, hurry it up, I've got stuff to do tonight," Jackson bitched as they gathered up their gear.
"Stuff, huh? Does Lydia know you call her that?"
Jackson rolled his eyes and Danny laughed. Jackson and Lydia had actually been getting along lately, not just dating because as the team captain and the school's mean-girl-in-chief they felt obligated to. Though Jackson had been getting kind of twitchy in the last couple of weeks, so it was probably only a matter of time before they imploded again.
"Just hurry up if you don't want to get stuck on the bus."
"Yeah, yeah." Danny finished lacing up his sneakers, shouldered his duffle bag, and straightened up. Jackson, being Jackson, didn't deign to ride a school bus ever, not even with the team to games. He drove himself, and he drove Danny, because Danny's best friend status had earned him permanent shotgun in the Porsche, and he was pretty sure Jackson would never actually abandon him, no matter how long he took getting ready to go.
As he stood, he saw someone standing nearby. Not one of their team members, who'd all headed down towards the bus, or even one of the players from the other team. He was wearing tight jeans and had an earring and whoa, the look he was giving Danny. Danny wasn't used to that. Usually, the guys who checked him out were shy and unsure, not smirking and self confident.
"Do we know you?" Jackson snapped at him.
"Nope. I don't think so." He barely glanced at Jackson before going right back to watching Danny. "I'm Trevor. You're Danny, right? I heard some of the guys on the team talking about you at school today."
"Did they say anything interesting?" Danny asked, ignoring Jackson's you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me look.
"Well, they weren't talking about lacrosse."
"You like lacrosse?"
"Not really." Trevor grinned at him. "But I like lacrosse players."
"Dude," Jackson interrupted. "I already said, I need to get going. Are you coming or what?"
"I, uh." Danny glanced at Trevor, then over at Jackson. "You know what, I think I'll probably be able to find my own way home."
"Definitely," Trevor said.
"Whatever." Jackson grabbed his own duffle bag, slid on his sunglasses, and knocked his shoulder into Danny's as he passed by. But he turned around to walk backwards for a few paces and added, "His curfew is 10:30, have him home on time or else. Danny, call me if you need me to pick you up."
"I won't," Danny said, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, well... if you do."
"I won't. Didn't you have stuff you were supposed to be doing?"
Jackson scowled at him, but spun around to stalk towards the parking lot. Trevor raised his eyebrows. "He kind of sounds like a jealous boyfriend, does he know that? Wait, he's not your boyfriend, right?"
"He wishes," Danny said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "So is there anywhere to eat around here?"
*
Things with Trevor had been good for awhile. A little bit difficult, because even though 45 minutes wasn't exactly long distance, it was far enough for high schoolers. They were both busy pretty much all the time, Danny with the team and school and programming and Trevor with painting and doing lighting design for his school's drama club. But they texted constantly, saw each other on weekends, and made out in Danny's car whenever possible. It was the first real relationship Danny had ever been in, David and Tom in eighth grade aside.
The issue was that Trevor was kind of jealous. Danny was a flirt, true. He always had been, and his willingness to flirt with basically anyone was probably why so many guys felt okay coming to him when they were questioning. But every time he smiled at a waiter or the guy who ripped tickets at the movie theater, Trevor would get all pissy about it.
And Trevor got really, really jealous over Jackson. Which maybe Danny got on some level, because Jackson was definitely hot and he did kind of give off gay vibes -- well, whatever, Jackson was still figuring things out -- but they were best friends. It didn't matter if Jackson was gay or not, because Danny wasn't interested in him anyway. So he really needed Trevor to chill out.
Yes, he spent a lot of time with Jackson. They sat together in most classes, because Jackson was way smarter than anyone gave him credit for and was taking mostly honors with Danny and Lydia. And they played lacrosse together, obviously. And hung out together a lot because they were best friends. But there was nothing between them, and Trevor being jealous was really uncool. He got all bitchy and passive aggressive, to the point where Danny felt like he couldn't even mention Jackson in passing. Which was kind of a problem, since he spent a lot of time with Jackson and it meant he pretty much couldn't talk about his life at all. But maybe that was fine with Trevor, who seemed way more into talking about himself than anything else.
Though given how jealous Trevor was over Jackson, who Danny could never think of like that, it was a good thing he wasn't there when Danny met Derek Hale, who seemed to have been specifically designed by god to be thought of like that.
*
Danny's car was pretty reliable -- that was why his parents had picked it out for him -- but every car had trouble sometimes. The check engine light came on his way home from a lacrosse game, and he ignored it. That was how most people handled things like that, he was pretty sure. But as he was rolling through the woodsiest part of Beacon Hills, his car started to sputter weirdly and it felt a little out of control. He pulled over, turned it off --
And it didn't turn back on.
"God damn it," he mumbled, grabbing his phone as he slid out. He popped the hood open, as if he knew anything about cars, and stared at the engine blankly. Nothing was on fire or lit in neon saying this is broken!, so he had no idea what to do.
Well, some idea. He called his dad, who told him to call Triple-A, who said they'd send a tow truck. But it was after the two garages in town had closed, which meant it was going to take awhile to arrive. And in the mean time, Danny was stuck standing there alone in the dark next to his car, lost in the woods, without so much as a street light. He couldn't even see the moon through the tree branches overhead.
"Need a jump?"
He almost jumped out of his skin, flailing, and spun to see maybe the most attractive man in the entire world standing a few feet down the road. He was familiar, but it took Danny a second to place him, since as far as he knew, Stiles's impossibly hot cousin didn't speak English.
Though right now he was looking at Danny like Danny was the one who couldn't talk.
Danny swallowed and sputtered, "You can jump me." Then, at the raised eyebrow, "I mean, um -- I mean, I called for help already. I'm good. I'm fine."
Cousin Miguel glanced down and back up Danny's body, and said, "You sure are."
Danny felt his face heat up, because Miguel -- he wasn't like the guys who Danny usually flirted with. He was an adult, for one thing, not some high school kid. And aside from that, he basically looked like one of Danny's wet dreams come to life, all stubble and leather and intimidating.
"Um, I don't, I can't, I," Danny paused, took a breath, and made himself focus. He sounded like a babbling idiot. "I don't see your car, you couldn't give me a jump anyway."
Miguel gestured down the road. "I live pretty near here. Heard you calling for help."
"Oh." He must have lived really nearby, then, to overhear it. But it was hard to make out anything through the trees that lined the road, so his house could be right on the other side and Danny wouldn't even know. "Must be nice, living so near your cousin."
"My..." He trailed off, then laughed. "Oh. Stiles. Yeah, my.... cousin.
"You're not really related to him, are you?" Danny guessed. "Is your name even really Miguel?"
"Derek," he said. "Hale."
Danny nodded a little. The name seemed familiar, but -- wait. Holy shit. He stared at Derek and took a few steps back. "Oh my god. Oh my god, the police were looking for -- wait, what was I an accessory to? What did you do?"
Derek held his hands up. "Calm down. I didn't do anything. I was exonerated. And you weren't an accessory to anything, okay?"
"What were you doing at Stiles's house, then? How do you even know him?"
"Why are you asking so many question?" Derek's voice was kind of low and rumbly, and Danny took another step back. Derek was really hot, but in a really dangerous kind of way. No wonder the police had been suspicious of him. But after a second his expression softened a little. "Stiles says you've got a boyfriend now. So no more checking out shirtless strangers."
Danny laughed awkwardly, feeling his cheeks go red. "I, uh, yeah."
Derek took a few steps forward, then stopped, leaning against the car. "I'll wait with you until the tow gets here."
"You don't have to --" Danny started.
"Strange things have been happening in the woods lately," Derek interrupted, his face an expression that Danny couldn't read. "It's not safe to be here alone."
"Oh," Danny said. "Um. Then thanks. I guess."
Derek made a noncommittal noise, and didn't say anything else.
*
Nothing had happened with Derek. There was no reason for Trevor to be jealous. Not that Trevor actually needed reasons. But still, Trevor was fun and artistic and definitely hot, so Danny dealt with the jealousy thing. On Saturdays, he drove out to Trevor's place and they spent hours lying around Trevor's rec room, watching movies and making out, and then going way further than making out, and then...
Trevor was actually more experienced than Danny, when it came down to it. Maybe he hadn't hooked up with as many different guys, but he'd already had sex and said it was no big deal. So it had only taken a few weekends before things moved from the rec room to the bedroom. Danny was really nervous the first time (well, the first few times, actually) but it turned out that it really wasn't a huge deal.
When he'd sort of embarrassedly confessed to Jackson that his V-card had finally expired, Jackson had saluted him with his flask and then pressed for details about who was on top and what they'd done and... it was kind of weird, but it was also very Jackson. Somehow the news got around the locker room within a day or two, and he got a bunch of backslaps and congratulations. Which was why he felt okay inviting Trevor to the formal.
The formal... had not gone well. Not in any sense. It ended up with Lydia in the hospital and the news that either a murderer or another animal was on the loose, which was the big thing. But at a more personal level, the amount of bitching Trevor did after Scott had all but thrown himself into Danny's arms was really not fun. As if it had been Danny's idea. (Not that Danny would have minded under other circumstances -- Scott was definitely adorable -- but still.)
And it didn't help that freaking Greenberg had mentioned to Trevor about how everyone was totally bummed Danny was no longer available for random hookups. Which had led to Trevor discovering that all of those rumors he'd heard about Danny before they'd gotten together -- that Danny had been absolutely everyone's gay experiment -- were true. Maybe Danny hadn't been totally undiscriminating (he hadn't, for example, ever made out with Greenberg, which he was increasingly glad about) but also generally pretty willing.
Trevor had not been happy to hear that.
Never mind that it had all been before they'd gotten together. Never mind that Trevor was more experienced. Never mind that it didn't matter. The night had ended with Trevor storming off and not answering Danny's calls, which just pissed Danny off, so when Trevor called him the next day he didn't answer, and the whole thing was so, so stupid.
But they'd worked it out, because they really did like each other. A lot. Actually, kind of, really a lot. Which was why Danny felt so guilty when he met the one guy Trevor probably should have been jealous of.
Continue.