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“We have to stop him from seeing Ethan,” Scott says, pacing back and forth in his room. Isaac is sitting on the bed, and Stiles is sitting in Scott’s desk chair, as they plot a way to keep Danny safe. “He’s just been too close to all of this, I don’t want to bring him in closer, and being with Ethan? It’s going to make him a target. He’ll become a liability to us. We can’t have that.”
“They could kill him.” Stiles nods. “Use him to threaten us.”
“So what do we do?” Isaac asks. “Walk up to him and tell him that he can’t see Ethan because he’s dangerous? We’re not his parents, and besides, he thinks I’m fucking crazy – he thinks I have it out for Ethan. I mean, twice he’s seen Ethan bloody at my hands…and one time I actually did it.” He sighs. “I want to protect Danny as much as either of two do, but I don’t understand what we can do.”
“Me neither.” Scott looks to Stiles, because he always has an idea, but Stiles is busy madly clicking a pen at a rapidly annoying pace.
“Stiles?” Isaac says, interrupting him.
“What?”
“Well…do you have an idea?” Scott asks. “About how we can keep Danny from seeing Ethan?”
“Um…” Stiles gulps. “Yeah.”
“Are you gonna enlighten us?” Isaac asks, raising one eyebrow incredibly high in a way that Stiles has noticed only Isaac seems to be able to do.
“Um, it’s probably best if you just let me take care of it, okay?” Stiles stands up, dropping the pen back onto Scott’s desk. He grabs his backpack and heads for the door. “I gotta go, Stilinski family dinner, but I’ll talk to Danny tomorrow. See ya.”
Stiles leaves before Scott or Isaac has a chance to ask him what the fuck is up, and he turns off his phone, ignoring the several texts that Scott sends him asking him what his plan is. He doesn’t want to reveal it, because he’s not sure that it’s going to work, but around all of the scheming and trying to trick people into things, he thinks the best way to get through to Danny might be to just talk to him. To try and convince him that Ethan is bad news, and hope that he can do that without letting out any secret information.
***
“Hey, Danny, we need to talk.” Stiles keeps his voice low as he walks up next to Danny in the hallway just before lunch.
“About what?” Danny asks.
“It’s kind of…private.” Stiles looks around then, unlocks the door to Finstock’s office – Stiles knows he goes to lunch 15 minutes before the kids do, and stays out for roughly an hour, so his office is empty. As soon as Stiles realized the pattern, he had a key made for occasions just like this.
“How did you-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Stiles says, his tone still hushed as he pushes Danny into the office, locking the door behind them.
“Okay, what’s so important that it couldn’t wait?” Danny asks, folding his arms across his chest, looking down at Stiles.
Danny is intimidating in every possible way. He’s tall, he’s buff, he’s smart, he’s gorgeous, and he has the ability to stare quizzically, one eyebrow raised, almost as well as Isaac. Almost. No matter what they’re doing, Stiles feels judged by Danny, even if there’s no credence to that, because Danny is just that much better than everyone else, and while Stiles is pretty sure Danny knows this about himself, he also tends to play modest, and Stiles likes that. Everyone does. Everyone likes Danny. The problem is, Danny doesn’t really like Stiles, and that is showing more than ever right now, as he stares skeptically at him.
“You have to stop seeing Ethan,” Stiles says, his voice soft. “I know you like him, and I know you won’t understand this, but you really have to stay away from him. It’s not safe. He’s not safe.”
“Are you fucking crazy?” Danny frowns, shaking his head, looking at Stiles as though he’s insane. “You brought me in here to tell me to stay away from Ethan? Why?”
“Because!” The urgency in Stiles’ voice is growing, and Danny just doesn’t understand why. “I just…I have a really, really bad feeling about him, okay? And my bad feelings tend to be pretty spot on.”
“Okay, right. So I should stop seeing him because you have a bad feeling?” He asks.
“Yes, exactly.” Stiles nods, and Danny turns, heading for the door. “No, wait!” Stiles grabs his arm. “Danny, please. You have to listen to me.” He looks directly into Danny’s eyes, his tone pleading.
“Stiles…”
“Look at me,” Stiles orders him. “Look at me and tell me I’m lying.”
Danny rolls his eyes, but he looks at Stiles, and it’s clear that something’s wrong. Stiles is really distressed, really agitated, and Danny doesn’t understand why. From what he’s seen, it’s Isaac that’s the problem, and not Ethan.
“He’s off, okay? Something is off about him.” Stiles gulps, trying to hold Danny’s gaze. “Are you telling me that there’s never been anything? Anything at all that made you question him. Something he’s said, or something he hasn’t said? Disappearing randomly and brushing you off with a nonchalant excuse when he comes back, if he comes back at all?”
“You think he’s cheating on me,” Danny whispers.
“No, no…” Stiles sighs. “I mean, maybe, I don’t know, I just…you have to stay away from him, Danny. If you don’t, he’s going to hurt you.”
“I can take care of myself.” Danny pulls his arm away from Stiles and moves to leave again, but Stiles jumps, grabbing his hand this time, pulling Danny back around.
“Danny, this isn’t a maybe thing. It’s not a “he might hurt you,” Danny, it’s a “he’s going to hurt you.” I can feel it.” He takes a deep, very shaky breath. “Get out, Danny, now. While you still can.”
“Wow.” Danny looks at Stiles, his voice low. “You’re really, really upset about this.”
Stiles just nods, feeling his body shaking. He knows this isn’t the right time to have a panic attack, but what else can he do? This is Danny, and Danny, while he’s never shown Stiles much affection, is a good guy. He’s a great guy. He’s the last guy in Beacon Hills who deserves to be caught up in the middle of this, and he’s already almost died twice for something he doesn’t even understand.
“What is it that’s got you so scared?” Danny asks, his tone soft. His brow is furrowed, but only slightly, because now he’s worried about Stiles almost as much as Stiles is worried about him.
“Ethan scares me,” Stiles admits. “He scares me a lot. There’s just something…something not right.” Stiles pulls away from Danny, wringing his hands as he turns in a stupid, awkward little circle.
“Stiles, did he do something to you?”
“I…” Stiles doesn’t know how to answer that question, because no, Ethan has never directly done something to Stiles, but he’s done stuff to people that Stiles cares for. He and his brother locked Isaac in a closet, well Allison too, but Isaac was the one that couldn’t handle it. He and his brother killed Boyd – well, they made Derek do it, but that’s enough, and Stiles is shaking with fear just remembering that.
“Stiles?”
“He…” he sighs. “He’s a bad seed. He hasn’t done anything to me, but he did something really, really mean to Isaac, he and his brother. I can’t tell you what it is without breaching Isaac’s personal privacy, but it was…it was really, really awful, and he and his brother did something really awful to someone else close to me, I just...I just really don’t want him to do something bad to you, too.”
When Stiles looks back up at Danny, his soft, hazel eyes are shining with tears, tears which have yet to break free, but they’re threatening to, and Danny can see that…he also can’t help but notice how beautiful Stiles’ eyes are when they’re wet like that, but he scolds himself for that, because he shouldn’t find someone attractive when they’re crying. It’s just cruel.
“You’re so sure about this, aren’t you.” Danny shifts uncomfortably, because he’s not really sure what to do. Ethan’s not his boyfriend, but they’ve shared a couple of moments, had some really awesome hookups, but Stiles is right. Ethan knows everything about Danny, and Danny knows nothing about Ethan, and when Danny really lets himself think about it, Ethan is…a little suspicious.
“I’m positive.” Stiles nods.
“But Stiles, pranks…they happen.” Danny bites his lip. “You’ve pulled them, I know you have, and maybe you didn’t mean to hurt people, but come on, we’re in high school. Sometimes people are jerks, it doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”
“He’s a bad guy!” Stiles’ voice raises, and he feels his chest tightening. “He’s a bad guy, and he’s going to hurt you, and that’s going to hurt me – hell, it’s already hurting me!”
“Okay, now I’m even more confused.” Danny reaches up, tugging a hand through his short hair. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Stiles practically whines. “But I also don’t want to see you with him, I don’t want to see you with anyone else because I want to see you with me, okay?”
As soon as Stiles realizes what he’s said, he wants to take it back. He wants to reach out and pounce on the words, and hope that they’re still close enough that Danny hasn’t heard them, but that’s not how talking works. He can’t delete what he’s said. He’s already pressed send, and the words are out there, and Danny’s heard them, and the look on his face shows no mistaking that.
“I…” Stiles gulps, looking for the exit, but Danny’s blocking it. He moves to try and run for the door, but this time, it’s Danny stopping him.
“Stiles, I-”
“Danny, move!” Stiles feels himself freaking out, he feels panic washing over him, because he’s not only failed to protect Danny but revealed his own, personal, secret in the process, and he knows rejection – hell, it’s all he knows, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
The tears that have been threatening him for several minutes now finally break down the barriers and roll down his cheeks, as he tries to push past Danny, but Danny grabs Stiles firmly by the shoulders, and even panicking and struggling, Stiles is no match for Danny’s strength.
“Let me go!” Stiles cries, wondering if anyone out in the hall can hear him. “Danny, let me go!”
“Do you really want me to?” Danny asks, looking down into Stiles’ watery eyes.
“Wh-what?” Stiles’ voice drops, the tone now barely a whisper, and he lets himself stare back into Danny’s deep, dark, eyes.
“Do you really want me to let go of you? Because from what you just said, that’s the last thing you want.”
“I…” Stiles shakes his head, the words not coming the way that he wants them to. “I don’t understand,” he manages to gasp out.
“Let me show you.” Danny takes one hand off of Stiles’ arms, and reaches out, gently placing it on Stiles’ cheek. He leans down, pulling Stiles towards him, and kisses him softly.
“Whoa…” Stiles pulls back, slowly, looking into Danny’s eyes. “What…what did you do that for?”
“Same reason you don’t want to see me with someone else.”
“Oh.” Stiles frowns, momentarily confused, but then a light bulb clicks in his head, and his eyes, Danny swears, become the size of saucers. “Oh.”
“Yup.”
Danny leans in to kiss Stiles again, and it’s fucking electric. His hands move down, gripping Stiles’ thighs, and he pulls him upwards. Stiles wraps his legs around Danny’s ways, his lips still aggressively moving against Danny’s as he lets Danny carry him back towards Finstock’s desk.
Danny moves one arm around Stiles’ back, holding him close, and with the other, he pushes everything he can off of Finstock’s desk – pens go flying, papers flutter to the ground and books crash to the floor with loud thuds, but neither of them care. Danny sets Stiles down on the desk and mounts him instantly, kissing him with a fervor he’s not sure he’s ever felt, and Stiles, somehow, is keeping up with him.
“Jesus Christ, you’re an animal,” Stiles whispers as he breaks away from their kiss to clumsily pull Danny’s t-shirt off over the top of his head.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Danny smirks, ripping open the buttons on Stiles’ plaid shirt, two or three of them popping off entirely as he does so. “Oops…sorry…” Danny looks sheepishly at Stiles, who shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about it.” Stiles wiggles out of the shirt and lets Danny, expertly, mind you, free him of his undershirt.
In seconds, Danny is back on top of Stiles, this time kissing his neck – well, not just kissing, sucking, biting, and Stiles back is arched, his neck tilted to give Danny better access, and the moans and gasps he’s releasing as Danny’s lips work, his hands running up and down Stiles’ sides.
It’s more than clear that Danny knows what he’s doing, and Stiles doesn’t have a clue, so he just lets his body react to Danny’s actions – his kisses, his bites, his touches, his thrusts – pants are still on, but neither boy is sure that’s going to last much longer.
“Oh my god,” Stiles gasps as Danny starts to suck on the tender skin between his throat and his collar bone. Danny doesn’t stop what he’s doing, but he does start sucking a little harder, because it seems he’s found one of Stiles’ “spots.” Stiles legs wrap back around Danny’s waist, ankles crossed, pulling Danny as close against his own body as he can, not so quiet whimpers of delight escaping his lips.
“Jesus Christ, seriously?!”
Both boys instantly stop what they’re doing and flounder as they hear another voice. Danny falls off of Stiles, and Stiles scrambles to hide behind the desk as they see their coach…and economics teacher…staring at them.
“I…we…” Stiles grasps for words while Danny struggles to pull his shirt back over his head, tossing Stiles’ button at him.
“Stilinksi? Really?” Finstock is looking right at Danny, shaking his head. “Come on, Danny, you can do better than that.”
“I…what?” Danny, his shirt halfway over his head, freezes.
“Just never pegged you and Stilinski.” Finstock shrugs. “Now both of you get out of here before I change my mind and decide to write you up for this.”
“Yes, sir.” Danny finishes dressing, and Stiles shoves his t-shirt into his bag, his shirt buttoned as well as it can be with half the buttons now missing. They scramble from the office, Stiles stumbling into the hallway.
“Um, I’m gonna go that way,” Stiles says, gesturing towards the bathroom, so that he can finish dressing.
“Yeah, um, I’ll go this way.” Danny gestures vaguely in the other direction, and they’re both off, heading their separate ways.
Stiles is halfway to the bathroom before he feels hands grabbing his waist and literally throwing him against a locker. Danny’s body is up against his, and in a fraction of a second, Danny’s lips are attacking Stiles. Stiles forgets completely where they are as his hands make their up, inside of Danny’s shirt, but it’s not long before he remembers.
A sharp whistle blows, and flustered, Danny and Stiles separate once again.
“Seriously?” Finstock walks up to them, shaking his head.
“Sorry, coach,” Danny mumbles, reaching down and taking Stiles’ hand, figuring it’s better than nothing, and since they can’t be attached at the lips…
The whistle blows again, this time right in their faces, and they both flinch. By now, everyone’s looking at them, and Stiles is painfully aware that Danny is holding his hand. In public. Danny kissed him. In public.
“If I see the two of you within three feet of each other for the rest of the day, I’ll have you both suspended,” Finstock states.
“Yes, right, of course.” Stiles nods, and instantly drops Danny’s hand. They scoot away from each other, guessing what is about three feet.
“Okay.” Finstock turns to walk away, and Danny looks at Stiles.
“My place, after school?”
“Fuck that.” Stiles shakes his head. “My jeep, seventh period.”
“You got it.” Danny smirks, and Stiles turns, flailing into the bathroom to fix his appearance before he and Danny have the chance to be all over each other again.
He goes into the nearest stall and pulls off his button down. He puts his t-shirt back on, and then replaces the button down, letting it hang open, since it looks decent, and it’s busted up anyways. When he opens the stall, Danny’s standing right in front of it, a playful smirk on his face.
“I couldn’t wait until seventh period,” Danny says.
“Oh thank god.” Stiles reaches out and grabs Danny by shirt collar, pulling him into the stall and locking the door.