Chapter Text
When he’d finally unleashed his ice powers, he’d thought that was the end of being sensitive to cold. Why would cold affect a creature who had a core of ice? It wouldn’t, obviously. So he should have been fine.
He was not fine.
Danny was cold, wet, tired, miserable, and so cold.
It was bad enough that Skulker had dragged him out of a dead sleep in the middle of the night, but that wasn’t all. It had started raining almost immediately after he went to chase the hunter ghost, a late autumn freezing sleet that crawled under his skin and chilled him to the bone. And Skulker, of course, wanted to lead him across the city and back before Danny managed to shove him back into the thermos.
“Ass,” he grumbled, looking down at the ghost trap on his hip.
He had a test tomorrow in third period, which he’d actually managed to properly study for. But now that it was - he glanced at the giant clock on the city hall tower as he passed - quarter to four, he would be lucky if he could stay awake for it.
If he’d even make it home. He was fading in and out as he flew, almost smacking into a billboard.
Danny rubbed his eyes. Home was still several miles away.
The Manson house was just two more blocks.
The one rational brain cell that was still functioning was telling him that sneaking into his (new-ish) girlfriend’s room in the middle of the night was a bad idea, but he was cold and tired and soaking wet. Floating up to her window, Danny peeked in through the tiny part in the curtain. He could make out Sam asleep in her bed, but not much else. Except that inside her room looked warm. And dry.
He went intangible to shed the rain before phasing through the glass.
Sam’s room had that familiar scent of incense and licorice that followed her everywhere, and the comfort of it instantly made him even more drowsy. Sam was cocooned in blankets, her breathing soft and even in the quiet room. Warm. He just wanted to be warm. Just for five minutes, then he’d go home. He managed to change back to his human form, still in his pajamas, before settling on the bed next to her, curling in on himself on top of the quilt. Five minutes.
He was asleep in two.
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Sam didn’t know what woke her up. She tended to sleep lightly, which was both a blessing and a curse in a place like Amity Park, where the quiet of the night was shattered by a ghost attack at least twice a month.
Her room seemed silent, from what she could tell. Just the soft hum of rain, the ticking of the clock across the room, and breathing.
Someone else breathing.
Her mattress dipping at her back.
Sam’s fight or flight kicked in at record speeds. Something was in her bed.
Holding her breath, Sam slowly reached for the Fenton Wrist Ray on her nightstand. Once it was securely in her hand, she steeled her nerves, then sat up and whipped around to point the weapon at --
A head of messy black hair, wrinkled Dumpty Humpty tee shirt, and ghost print pajama pants.
“Danny?”
He snorted softly, shifting where he was curled up in a tight ball.
Sam’s shoulders slumped. She put the Wrist Ray back on the nightstand and shook Danny’s shoulder. “What are you doing here? It’s like, four in the morning.”
He only murmured in response. Near his bare feet was the Fenton Thermos.
She sighed. “Late night hunting ghosts again?”
Danny curled tighter. “...was cold,” he slurred, still half asleep.
Moving her hand to where his arm wasn’t covered by his shirt, Sam frowned. He was chilled to the touch, his skin covered in goosebumps. She bit her lip and weighed her options. It was pouring rain outside, and if she sent him home right now, he would probably end up sick, ghost powers or no. Sam glanced at her bedroom door to confirm it was locked.
“Okay, fine,” she picked up the thermos and set it on the floor, then started dragging the comforter out from under him. “You can stay, but the second my alarm goes off, you gotta get home. My parents already aren’t keen on me dating a guy that can go through walls. They’ll flip if they find you here.”
He hummed in response as Sam draped the quilt over them both, settling next to him. One of his arms artlessly flopped over her waist in a half-hearted attempt, Danny snuggling close until his frozen nose hit her neck. She resisted the urge to squeak and smiled.
“Goodnight, Danny,” she whispered to him with a wry smile.
“...night, Sam,” he said, so quietly she almost didn’t hear. “Love you.”
Sam’s eyes popped wide open as every bit of sleepiness vanished. She blinked down at him. Had she heard that right? Did he really say….?
She would ask him, but Danny was out like a light in her arms. So Sam just shook her head, pulled him close, and listened to his breathing.