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1
Out of all the people he knew from high school, Stiles hadn't expected to see Danny first, and especially not at a frat party. He knew Danny was going to school there—the Beacon Hills class of 2013 wasn’t that big—but so were a few others, and quite frankly he thought he’d see Greenberg first. Stiles liked to think his social status was a little higher than Greenberg’s, but it was college and Stiles thought for sure he’d choose a low-end party and get stuck with people similar to the status he had in high school. The fact that Danny was there made him feel like he’d chosen somewhere great to crash during rush, even if he had no intention of actually pledging.
Throughout the night, he made enough of an impression on the frat boys inside to keep his red solo cup relatively full, and he danced with many of the fine ladies and guys in the establishment (who were probably just as tanked as he was because there was no way everyone was a perfect ten, but maybe that was just the nature of college). His eyes kept drifting to Danny. He was looking good, darker than usual, but Stiles had heard that Danny had stayed with relatives in Hawaii for most of the summer, and he seemed to be having just as much of a good time as Stiles was having, which made Stiles feel pleased. Danny had been shit on a lot during the werewolf shenanigans in high school, and he never received the explanation for it. Stiles thought Lydia would tell him since they were better friends than Danny and anyone else in their group, but she never did, and Stiles always felt sort of bad about it. It was nice to see Danny away from all that and just being happy.
Stiles danced with a girl too off her ass to be graceful, but it was fun and Stiles was feeling great. He happened to (unsurprisingly) look over at Danny, and saw him with a tall guy with biceps as big as Stiles' head, probably. They were close and angled towards each other, holding an intimate conversation. That was nice. It was good for Danny to have some fun with his penis. Stiles sure would like to, but he was too drunk to get it up, let alone successfully ask someone who wasn’t equally drunk.
But then the guy put his hand on Danny’s arm, and Danny made a face and pulled away. The guy didn’t look too happy about that. Uh-oh.
Before his brain caught up with the decision, Stiles pushed forward through the mass of bodies grinding in the living room, small even with all the furniture pushed back, and staggered over to Danny and the guy. Stiles stumbled a little, but saved himself by sliding an arm around Danny’s shoulders. He was a little taller than Stiles, which put his arm at an uncomfortable angle, but the heat flowing into his arm from Danny’s back made the position too nice to consider changing.
“Stiles, what are you—“ Danny hissed at him, but Stiles squeezed his shoulder and cut him off.
“What are you doing to my boyfriend?” he asked, and he was pretty sure he didn’t slur too much.
The guy’s face twisted into an ugly laugh, and Stiles wanted to punch him in his smug face, even if he was probably too uncoordinated to do much damage. It’d be like punching Derek, and he’d done that enough times to know it was a bad idea.
Danny excused them for a moment, and turned Stiles around. “If he won’t respect my decision, what makes you think he’ll respect yours?” he said, and Stiles thought it was kind of funny that he was trying to keep quiet when they were only two feet away from the other guy.
“Because,” Stiles said, “and I’m trying to help.”
Danny rolled his eyes but they turned back to face the guy he’d been talking to earlier.
“I don’t believe you,” he said, because of course that’s what the douchebag would say, and Stiles felt rather than saw Danny roll his eyes. “I’ll believe you if you kiss,” Douche said, and that sounded like the best idea ever to Stiles.
Danny had other plans, since he opened his mouth to disagree, but Stiles pitched forward and planted one on him, effectively cutting him off. It wasn’t a very good kiss since Danny’s mouth was half open and Stiles was drunk enough to try and slip him the tongue right off the bat, but it happened, and they pulled back after an appropriate amount of time had passed.
Douche was oddly flushed and had a hand in his pocket, but he was laughing. “That was the awkwardest kiss I’ve ever seen in my life,” Douche said, and Stiles had to agree, even if every molecule in his being wanted to disagree just on principle. Douche walked away though, which was weird, but Stiles was drunk and he couldn’t begin to understand what was going on.
“I think I’m going to leave,” Danny said, and Stiles thought that was probably a good idea.
2
“Okay, so hear me out,” Stiles said, aimlessly button smashing the GameCube controller in his hands. It was hard to be serious with one player Super Smash Bros., but Danny was doing homework. Early. Who did their homework before the last possible moment? Danny, and he was the only one Stiles knew who did.
“What, Stiles?” Danny grumbled, from his desk. He was frustrated with whatever he was working on, which was all the more reason for him to just give up and play Stiles. He hadn’t kicked Stiles out of his room yet, so obviously he wasn’t seriously working.
“So you know that restaurant on main street? Just past the bagelry?”
Kirby swallowed up Bowser, which never failed to make Stiles laugh. It looked like a fucking caveman.
There was a clicking noise behind him, like Danny set down his pen. “The one with the painted cow in front?”
Fucking Mario knocked Kirby off, and Stiles briefly thought about restarting.
“Yup, that’s the one.”
Stiles was silent for a moment, and then Danny sighed, giving in. Bingo.
“What about it?” Danny asked, and Stiles paused the game and turned backward in his chair.
Danny looked just as frustrated as he sounded earlier, and Stiles almost felt bad about distracting him. Almost. Seriously, who did their homework right after they got out of class?
“I was waiting for the improv group to start, and in that hallway there was this ad on the bulletin board the republicans and outing club share. Apparently couples get free appetizers on Valentine’s Day. So, I got a reservation.”
Stiles stopped talking and grinned wildly at Danny. Danny just sort of gave him a half confused look, like he was waiting to continue, and when Stiles didn’t he grunted.
“And let me guess, you’re not one half of a couple,” Danny said.
“Nope! But neither are you, so how ‘bout it?”
Danny didn’t answer right away. His stare was blank and Stiles’ confidence started to melt out of his body. He was kind of banking on Danny being okay with it, but he could maybe get one of the volleyball players down the hall to go instead if Danny didn't want to. She was always up for stuff like that, especially if it involved something free.
“Free appetizer,” Stiles tried, and waggled his eyebrows at Danny.
Danny sighed. “Okay,” he said, and Stiles totally didn’t jump up to cheer. (He did.)
Danny’s face fell, like he couldn’t believe he actually agreed to pretend date someone who cheered over something like that, but Stiles was awesome, so.
Stiles scooted his chair closer to Danny. “So I was thinking,” he started, and Danny rolled his eyes.
“Hope you didn’t hurt yourself,” Danny said, and Stiles made an indignant noise. They both knew Stiles was doing okay in his classes, even if he skipped Intro to Music more often than he should.
“Ha ha,” Stiles said dryly. “No, but I was thinking. We should practice just in case.”
The douche from that party all those months ago really left an impression on Stiles and his ability to kiss. He didn’t think he was awful, but it would probably still be awkward with Danny. Hence why they needed to practice.
Danny didn’t really think it was necessary since the restaurant had no way to prove someone was or wasn’t a couple, especially not by how comfortable they were touching and kissing each other in public, but Stiles was adamant. He couldn’t do this without going all out, and he wouldn’t be drunk enough to seem endearing.
Stiles didn’t insist on a table or anything—boyfriends weren’t exclusively boyfriends just at dinner—but he didn’t want to do it on Danny’s bed or anything. That was a little much. So they stuck Danny’s and Danny’s roommate’s desk chair next to each other.
“So, show me how you’d be a boyfriend,” Stiles said nervously, and Danny rolled his eyes again.
“Casual touches,” Danny said, and he rested his hand lightly on Stiles’ lower back through the opening in the chair. Stiles nearly jumped ten feet in the air. For all the hookups he’d had since coming to college, he hadn’t actually been steady with anyone.
“What?” Danny asked, annoyed, and Stiles could only shrug helplessly.
“I guess I wasn’t expecting it, sorry.”
“If I was your boyfriend, I’d be patient. First we’d start out by holding hands if you didn’t like the other stuff.”
Danny reached forward to grab Stiles’ hand, and Stiles didn’t jerk away. That was actually really sweet.
“What about kissing?” Stiles found himself asking.
Danny snorted, but leaned in closer, and Stiles raised his head to meet him. Their lips touched for a second or two, and then Danny pulled back. No tongue, but Stiles probably should’ve expected that; they weren’t trying to get each other off. Sweet intimate kisses weren’t anything like he’d done before, and he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands.
“I’m sorry, I was bad at that,” Stiles said. “I probably need to do that again.”
Stiles leaned forward this time, and broke the kiss when he thought it was the appropriate time. Danny’s hand slid to Stiles’ lower back, and he didn’t jump that time. It was actually sort of nice.
Danny made a good boyfriend, and Stiles was sure they’d have no trouble getting that free appetizer.
“So, we’d like the Valentine’s Day special?” Stiles said with a questioning tone to the hostess. She looked over at them with a skeptical glance, and Danny shifted under her gaze. They had this in the bag though—Stiles had practiced kissing Danny until his lips were swollen so there was no chance of it being awkward, and Stiles had finally stopped flinching when Danny put his hand on his lower back. They totally looked like any other couple in the restaurant.
“Should be under Stilinski?” Stiles added, uncertain.
“How long have you guys been together?” she asked curiously, and Danny shot Stiles a panicked look. Right. They never actually discussed that stuff.
“Uh, since November,” Stiles said, then looked at Danny with an eyebrow raised and hoped his ‘in love’ half grin was enough to cover the inquiring glance he was giving him. “Right, Babe?” he added, and he totally didn’t yelp when Danny reached down and pinched his ass. Right. Danny didn’t like being called that, and Stiles knew that.
“Oh, well, congratulations,” the hostess said, and she lead them to their table. It was candle lit and had rose petals strewn across the table cloth, for God’s sakes, but even through all the pretentiousness it was pretty neat. If he had someone to take out to dinner on Valentine’s Day, this was close to what he would’ve pictured, and Danny wasn’t a bad boyfriend, even if he was faking it. He was considerate, and liked giving Stiles little fleeting touches. Plus, he agreed to do this for Stiles which automatically earned him a hundred points in the ‘people that are almost as awesome as Scott’ book.
Local restaurants with free appetizers for couples on Valentine’s Day were awesome.
3
“You want me to what?” Danny asked, and picked his eyes up off his philosophy reading just to give Stiles an incredulous look.
Stiles was leaning forward onto the library table, clutching his sides and panting like he’d just run from his dorm room. He glanced at the room around them, and there were definitely people looking at them in various stages of anger. Danny was in one of the quiet rooms, and Stiles had burst in like hell was chasing him and asked for Danny’s help in psychology.
He grabbed Danny’s wrist, and gestured at the doors to the quiet room. Stiles’ breathing was the only noise in the room, and some of the people in there had already turned back to their work. Danny sighed and gathered his things.
“Okay, what was this about pretending to be your boyfriend?” Danny asked before the door had even shut behind him. The again was unspoken, but strongly implied.
Stiles shifted his weight onto his other foot. “So you know how we have to participate in two psych studies for class—of course you don’t you chose philosophy for a gen ed—but anyway, it’s due next week and I need one more. The only study open for the next week is a relationship study, so I need you to, y’know, pretend to be my boyfriend so I don’t drop a letter grade. And they’re giving out coupons to Dominos with it too, and c’mon, almost free food.”
Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “So you want me to help you ruin a poor grad student’s study so you can get away with procrastination. And pizza.”
“One couple out of many isn’t going to ruin a study, and besides, we’ve known each other for years—we’ll be fine.”
Despite his better judgment, Danny agreed to do it. Let no one say he didn’t care about his friends’ grades or almost free pizza, that was for sure.
4
“This isn’t how I pictured my spring break going,” Danny whispered into his ear. One of the witches dropped down to her knees in front of Danny, and the hand he had against Stiles’ back twitched. She applied some intricate design in a scary blood-red color around Danny’s belly button, and the brush she used looked just as questionable as the paint did. To be honest, Stiles wouldn't be surprised if it was blood and human hair.
Stiles tried not to stare too hard at the paint drying on Danny’s chest. His musculature was different now than what Stiles remembered in the locker room in high school. It wasn’t a size thing because he didn’t really look any bigger or smaller, but they looked different, like he had switched from goalie to forward. Stiles and Danny had both stopped playing sports since entering college, with the exception of Danny playing intramural lacrosse, but unlike Stiles, Danny actually went to the gym to make up for it. Stiles tried not to think too hard about the way his own chest looked, and focused more on the way Danny’s hand felt spread across his back like it was.
“Funny, it’s not really how I pictured mine going either,” Stiles said, and one of the blonde witches dropped down in front of Stiles to give him his own belly button rune design. The paint was oddly warm, and Stiles clenched his stomach to keep from giggling. Ticklish spots were the absolute worst.
Danny pulled Stiles in close once she was finished, like one would a lover to whisper sweet nothings in their ear, and said, “I really hope they get here soon.”
He kissed Stiles’ ear softly before he pulled back, and met Stiles’ eyes. The dazed half grin Stiles gave him was only half acted.
Stiles hoped Scott and Derek showed up with Allison soon too. Pretending to be lovers to infiltrate a witches’ coven during their fertility ritual was one thing, actually going through the fertility ritual was another. The witches were bound to find out he and Danny weren’t actually dating about the time the spell didn’t work, and judging by the slowed pace the witches were working at, the runes they were painting were almost finished.
(And talk about irony. Two dudes for a fertility ritual? He was surprised they let Danny and him in.)
Four of the witches stepped back with their bowls of ominous paint, leaving only the head witch in front of them.
“Okay, Lovers,” she said with a grin, and her voice was heavily accented, but Stiles couldn’t place it. She was a witch; her first language was probably tongues. “Time to go.”
Stiles and Danny shared a look, and Danny didn’t look anything near as scared as Stiles felt—if anything he looked determined. Stiles was a little worried because they were about to get to the kissing part, and Stiles had realized he’d very much like to kiss Danny. As much as the witches ensured that there would be nothing beyond kissing—they were just draining love energy—Stiles was afraid he’d pop a boner and turn it into an accidental bad porno. Like the indie kind people reviewed on blogs for story and style choice instead of how bangin’ the sex was.
One of the blondes and the Asian witch stood on either side of them, and grasped their elbows in a surprisingly gentle grip. For the bad guys, they were being awfully nice.
They headed towards a door off in the corner of the room, and Stiles knew for a fact it was a creepy-ass basement, because when wasn’t it a creepy-ass basement. If witches had to do their thing indoors, they were in a crypt or a basement. Stiles had seen enough horror movies to feel like an expert on the subject (a few of them may have been an aforementioned bad indie porno that Stiles had definitely reviewed, but he was keeping his mouth shut on that. 'Devils Come in Through the Back Door' was a masterpiece, okay?).
But then, an arrow went flying through the room and nailed the head witch in the shoulder. Danny jerked back, but Stiles reached out to hold him steady, accidentally running his hands through one of the squiggles along Danny's side. It was just Allison. And shortly after, Scott came bursting through the door to grab two of the witches by their loose robes.
“Oh, thank God,” Stiles said.
“I can’t tell if I should thank you or not for bringing me into this supernatural stuff,” Danny said, and that was how Stiles felt sometimes. As cool as all the werewolf stuff was, ignorance meant a lot less pain.
5
Danny’s sister, Leah, looked beautiful in white, even if Stiles was making a fool of himself right next to her. She looked happy though, and if dancing with Stiles on her wedding day added to her happiness, he could be embarrassed later.
Adam—his sister’s brand new husband—passed Danny a champagne flute, and loosened his bowtie when his hand was free. Danny took a careful sip. He hadn’t met Adam much before the wedding, but he seemed nice.
“You look really happy,” he said, and Danny took a bigger sip.
“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”
Adam looked exactly like the grooms Danny had seen in every wedding picture: constantly flushed, and staring wide-eyed at the bride (or other groom, Danny’s mind supplied).
Adam shrugged, and reached up to squeeze Danny’s shoulder. “Everyone I’ve talked to has said they’ve never seen you smile so much, and judging from the stories they’ve been telling me, you smile a lot to begin with.”
He looked pointedly at Leah and Stiles, and Danny’s heart clenched. He liked Stiles, he really did, and it hurt to see him with his family like this.
Danny had asked him to be his boyfriend for his sister’s wedding, since his mom had gotten word of Danny seeing someone and he couldn’t think about showing up without (it was just a fuckbuddy, and the only interest they shared was their attraction to each other, so Danny couldn’t bring him home). He just didn’t think it would go so well with Stiles in that place instead. It got him thinking too hard about what it’d really feel like to have Stiles as a boyfriend, and well, Danny couldn’t spend his sister’s wedding getting drunk.
“Yeah, I guess,” Danny said hollowly, and Adam set down his champagne flute to run out onto the dance floor to take Leah from Stiles. The grin Stiles had on his face when Adam grabbed Leah from behind and blew a raspberry into the back of her neck, his eyes all lit up with glee and light and beauty? It nearly punched Danny in the gut with the strength of the feelings he got from it, and Danny had to set his drink down just to keep breathing.
Fucking hell.
+1
Stiles had been hunched over his laptop with the same intense look of concentration for two days straight, and he wouldn’t let anyone, especially Danny, see what he was working on. Danny didn’t know who he was trying to fool; Stiles had left the brochure pinned to the cork board over their dresser so it wasn’t like Danny wouldn’t see it every time he went to pull a pair of boxers out of the top drawer. The thing was brightly colored and flashy, and even before Danny was awake enough to read, it caught his eye. “Proposal Contest!,” it read in bright red, and underneath it in yellow, “Capture the moment on video and get the most votes to win.”
He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that a contest would light the marriage fire under Stiles’ ass, but really he was. They’d been together for a while, and yeah, Danny loved him, but they hadn’t discussed any of that, and the prospect of the future sent nervous butterflies flying around in his stomach.
Danny finished drying their dinner plates and set them on the ‘clean’ part of their counter, peering at Stiles in the living room through the kitchen door. He toed at the tile floor a second or two, debating if he should go over to his boyfriend or maybe just go into the other room and call his sister to calm his nerves with aimless chatter. In the end, the answer was obvious, and he walked into the living room.
He wrapped his arm around Stiles’ chest, pulling him against Danny’s back so he could lean forward and kiss the side of Stiles’ head. Stiles went willingly, but the only window open on Stiles’ computer screen was one with a cat gif, and it was the same one Danny had seen since Stiles started his little hiding-but-not-really routine.
“How surprised do you want me to act when you bust out the ring?” Danny asked, and he was proud that his voice didn’t waver at all. The momma-cat in the gif pulled her kitten in close, then the gif reset.
Stiles froze a little, but forced himself to relax when Danny almost pulled himself away in a panic. “I’m hoping you won’t have to act at all,” Stiles answered, and Danny pressed another kiss into the side of Stiles’ head to keep himself from doing anything stupid, like expressing his fears over the matter and scaring the shit out of Stiles. The kitten kicked its little paws out and mewed until the momma-cat woke up and pulled her kitten in close.
Danny pulled himself away, but squeezed himself on the recliner next to Stiles, even though it wasn’t comfortable to have half his ass on the arm. Stiles hand immediately slid to Danny’s lower back, and he used it to brace himself while he leaned forward to place his laptop on the couch next to them. When he came up he left the hand there, and Danny eased into it.
“What do we win if we win?” Danny asked, and Stiles turned towards him to rest his face against the junction between Danny’s shoulder and neck.
“When,” Stiles mumbled, and his lips brushed the collar of Danny’s shirt. “When we win,” he added, and Danny had to throw a hand against the arm of the chair to steady himself in the face of Stiles’ overconfidence.
“Okay, what do we get when we win?”
Stiles sighed, and his hand twitched against Danny’s back. “They’ll pay for half of the wedding up to ten thousand dollars. They get to film it and the process though.”
It was Danny’s turn to freeze then. He figured it’d be something like that, but proposal was one thing, wedding was another.
Stiles started rubbing Danny’s back in small circles, and the tension in his body started draining. Stiles’ hand was shaking too, and maybe that was clue enough that he was scared too.
“Y’know…” Stiles started, and then exhaled harshly, his breath hot against Danny’s neck. “It doesn’t have to be any time soon or anything. I just…I’m a romantic at heart, and I really like the idea of spending the rest of my life with you.”
Danny’s heart thudded in his chest, and he was sure Stiles could feel it. He wasn’t sure about the future, but he knew he loved Stiles, and maybe that was enough.
“I-I like that idea too,” he said, softly, turning to whisper it into Stiles’ hair.
He felt Stiles grin against his neck, and Danny found the corners of his mouth lifting too.
“Maybe I should let you get back to your cat gifs then,” Danny said, and Stiles pushed in closer.
“You should,” Stiles said, but neither of them moved for an hour, and Danny really was okay with that. They had time.
Stiles dropped the ring off the top of a roller coaster while Scott filmed it all on his phone, and they became a viral sensation for a totally different reason. That was okay though, because Danny was happy and he totally had a return trip planned (and to no one’s surprise another video showed up shortly after on Scott’s YouTube channel with Stiles and Danny sharing a kiss on the same roller coaster, dressed in black and white tuxedos, respectively).