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Danny had never been one to show much skin on a regular basis. He was never the kind to wear the tight fitting shirts, or muscle tanks- not that he had any to show off. He didn't even wear shorts that often, and preferred to stick to jeans, whether they be skinny or otherwise, black or blue. He was the kind of person with a love for baggy t-shirts, and he practically lived in sweaters and sweatshirts.

None of that changed after the accident. What did change, though, is that he watched what he wore much more closely. He wore long sleeved things more often- there weren't many times you could catch him with short sleeves outside of his house. Having been three years, he got used to it pretty quickly. He rather liked the clothes he wore, even if they were limited.

Dash, of course, never paid any attention to what Fenton wore. Why would he, anyway? It's not as if he cared.

By the time he started to, it was far too late to notice the change, if anyone had at all. No- by the time Dash started to fall for him, by the time he became familiar with the feeling of Danny in his arms, sweaters seemed to fit him just fine.

It never occurred to Dash that Danny could be binding something under the soft sleeves of his green oversized sweater. It swallowed him up whole, as Danny was pretty small, and the sweater was like three sizes too big. Dash thought he looked adorable.

Currently, they were sitting on Danny's couch, Danny's head resting on Dash’s criss-crossed legs. Dash was on his phone, and Danny was visibly lost in thought- that, or he was fascinated with the ceiling.

The Fenton adults were away at some ghost hunting convention of some sort for the weekend, leaving the house to their seventeen year old son. A weekend alone together sounded like fun. Dash knew how that sounded- trust him, he knew exactly- but he didn't think anything would happen. Sure, they made out a few times, and it was amazing- but Danny got especially jittery the moment Dash touched the skin under his shirt.

Dash was okay with that. He would never even dream of pushing Danny that way, and he would be fine with never going any further so long as he had the raven haired boy’s heart. He'd suffer blue balls every day of his life for Danny.

After almost 20 minutes of silence, Dash spoke.

“We should watch something,” he started offhandedly.

“Like, a movie? Or a show?” Danny replied, looking up at him. His hair was ruffled, and Dash snorted and ran his hands threw it, to which Danny shivered.

“I'm thinking a movie,” Dash replied, tugging softly at a knot in the locks.

“Well, we've got plenty.” Dash let his hands fall from his scalp when Danny stood up, strolling over to a tall bookshelf filled to the brim with movie cases.

“So what are we thinkin’? Fantasy? Romance? Comedy? Harry Potter? We got it all.” Danny asked, his back to Dash. He cocked one hip and looked up at the rows of cases.

“Something fun.” Danny turned and raised an eyebrow. “Just not comedy. Other than that, anything's cool with me.”

Danny pondered that for a moment, a grin lighting up his features. “Oh, I know just the thing.”

Dash began to ask what movie he was reaching for, but Danny's sweater rode up, and Dash caught a glimpse of something staining his back.

“Hey, what happened to your back?” Dash asked nonchalantly. Danny looked confused, looking at his back, before a look of realization crossed his face, then firmly pulling his hem back down over his hips. He expected Danny to laugh and tell him he fell on the sidewalk, that he'd burnt himself on the stove. He didn't expect him to drop the movie case with a clatter, or to look at him with such a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. Dash let out an easy laugh.

“Hey, it's okay. I won't laugh if you tell me you tripped or something, Danimal.” A crease formed between Danny's brows, before his face scrunched up. His lower lip wobbled, his breathing labored, and Dash didn't realize he was about to cry till the tears actually dropped.

He hurriedly stood up and took a step towards him. Danny seemed to shrink into himself.

“Hey, I'm sorry Danny,” he whispered soothingly. Dash reached a hand to his arm, and Danny recoiled slightly, bumping into the bookshelf behind him with a soft whimper. Dash knew this wasn't about him, but he couldn't deny that it stung just a little bit. “I won't call you Danimal ever again, I promise.”

Dash enveloped Danny in a hug, ignoring his little struggles. He wasn't sure why he was crying, but the whimpers hurt his heart. Dash didn't like seeing him in pain, even if it was over a stupid nickname, or a scrape on his back.

“That's not it,” Danny murmured shakily, feebly pushing against Dash’s chest. “That's not it.”

Sending Danny's discomfort, Dash released him and took a step backwards, taking in his face. Red eyes, messy hair, tear tracks.

“What's wrong?” Dash whispered. At Dash's words, Danny bit his lip. As tears welled up again, he closed his eyes, a few rivulets making their way.

Dash tried to pull him close once more, but Danny pushed against his chest, stepping back. Dash let him go.

“...Noth-nothing's wrong, Dash.”

Concern clouded Dash’s features, boring into Danny's blue eyes.

“That's not what it looks like.” His eyebrows scrunched together worriedly. Placing a hand on Danny's shoulder. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Danny let out a shaky breath, tears still running. He gave a decisive nod after several moments.

“I'm really light headed… I think I need to sit down for this.” True to his word, Danny made the short trek to the couch and sat down, patting the seat beside him. Dash took his place, keeping a short distance in an attempt to give Danny space.

“You can start whenever you feel ready.”

Danny nodded at him, a small, strained smile sneaking into his face. It made Dash less nervous for what was to come. Danny rubbed both of his eyes and let out a long suffering sigh. The tears were mostly gone now- he just looked tired.

“You remember how I became half ghost, yeah?” He waited for Dash to nod, then continued. “Did I ever tell you… how I died?”

“You said it was an accident in your parents lab.” Dash confirmed.

“Yeah. Well, the accident… I’m not really sure how it happened. I was a stupid fourteen year old, and Sam was curious, and I wanted to know. So, of course,I had to go into my parents’ ghost portal and turn it on… like a fucking idiot.” Dash took his hand and gave a comforting squeeze.

“So, um…. The accident had some… lasting effects. On my body.” Dash waited patiently, for Danny to decide where he wanted to go next. If he wanted to continue, Dash would listen. If he wanted to just move on and end the conversation, they could do that. He lifted Danny's hands to his mouth, pressing kisses to his knuckles. Danny gave him a watery smile.

Dash was shocked when Danny stood up.

“What-” Dash cut himself off when Danny began to lift the hem of his sweater facing him. Danny lifted his arms, pulling the sweater off his shoulders.

When Dash caught sight of Danny's skin,his brain went blank for two reasons. He couldn't help the astonished gasp that escaped his mouth, or the way his eyes widened.

Danny, seeing his reaction, crossed his arms over his chest, hunching in on himself self consciously. He looked… disgusted with himself. Dash took his wrists and uncrossed them, holding them gently as Danny stood in front of him.

“It's okay,” he intoned. “You're okay.”

If he was honest, the sight took Dash's breath away. The lines started from his left palm, and they trailed up his arm, spanning all across his shoulder, chest and back. They were a deep russet brown, and reasonably thin. They webbed across his left arm and torso, many lines branching off each other in countless different endings.

But while they were scars, this was also the first time that Dash had seen Danny topless. The lithe, toned torso was stunning. He longed to scrape his fingernails along the lightning bolt strands. He wanted to make Danny shiver. He wanted to run his fingers over the smooth skin of his stomach, and leave spots of purple on his ribcage. The thought brought a flush to his cheeks, and he desperately pushed it down, sending that it was not the time.

“Can… can I touch you?” He realized how that sounded a second after. They both moved on, but Dash wouldn't admit that he didn't miss the way red flooded Danny's cheeks. At Danny's nod, he leaned forward.

He brushed his hands over the lines on his collarbones, even though there were no marks there. Dash hesitated before touching the scars.

“Do they hurt?” He asked.

“Not anymore.” Danny assured quietly.

Dash turned Danny's hands over in his own. The scars on his palm were much more faded there. Where the other scars were dark, the scars here were a creamy brown, and could be missed at a glance.

“Why are these ones lighter?” He asked, without much preamble.

“Sam bought me scar cream for those, so they’re better. We didn’t have enough money to buy more for the rest, so we thought it’d be best to try and fade the most exposed piece of them. Scar cream is expensive, you know.” His voice seemed to regain stability the longer he talked.

“I thought Manson was like, loaded,” Dash commented. He was glad he did when Danny let loose a soft chuckle.

“She is, but that year her parents thought it would be nice to give her an allowance. Plus, I would hate to leech all of Sam’s money just for this.” Danny sighed. “I know they look disgusting but I don’t think it would be worth it to apply it every night, just for a partial fading.”

“They aren’t disgusting,” Dash said indignantly.

“Yes, they are. You don’t have to humour me.” Danny didn’t look saddened at the statement. He looked resigned, accepting, as if he knew what he said was true, and that there wasn’t anything to do about it.

Dash stood and rested gripped Danny’s shoulders, shaking them gently as he bore into his eyes. “I’m not humouring you, Danny. They’re interesting. I think they look beautiful.”

Danny looked doubtful, and he shrugged, avoiding his gaze. To prove his point, Dash bent his head to kiss the branch of scar near Danny’s left shoulder (which was a small feat, considering Dash and Danny’s height difference). Danny gasped softly, causing a bone to shift in his shoulder. He traced his lips- chapped, and slightly scratchy- down the main strand. It made Danny shiver.

Dash stopped on a small scar on Danny’s collarbone, flicking his tongue out briefly. Danny shuddered, a trembling breathe escaping him. He tugged on Dash’s sleeve for his attention. “D-Dash.”

When Dash stood up straight again, Danny collapsed into his chest, enveloping him with his thin arms. He held Danny tightly, letting his chin drop onto his head as a Danny sighed deeply, relaxing. “Thank you.”

“Even if your scars were the most horrific things in the universe, it would be okay. I’m with you because of your beautiful mind, and the way you get into things so completely. I love you for you, not your body.” Danny’s arms tightened around his middle, burying his face more completely in his sweatshirt. He leaned down and quickly pulled his sweater back down, standing up and returning to his place. “But it does help that you’re one of the most attractive people I’ve seen in my life.”

Danny looked up at him, pressing a small peck to the corner of his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Dash kissed his forehead. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dropped movie case, and barely contained his snort at what he saw. Looking down at him, he leaned down to his ear. “Hey. Hey.” when he got a response, he sang.

“I got chills!”

“Oh my god,” Danny whispered, leaning back.

“They’re multiplying!” Danny scoffed a laugh, shaking his head. “And I’m looooosing control!”

Despite his laughs, Danny managed a short “Shut up.”

“Got that power, you’re supplying....”

Through gasps and giggles, Danny heaved, “I- I fucking… fuckin’ hate you.” Dash held him out at arms length, holding his hands.

“It’s electrifying!” They both laughed so hard, and Dash danced lightly. The smile on Danny’s face could power New York City. At Danny's face, Dash nudged him with a “go on” nod.

“You better shape up!” Danny gave in, and Dash’s laughs reached a new high. “‘Cause I need a man.” Danny was reasonably small, and Dash found it surprisingly easy to lift him up (but he completely expected the squeak Danny made.)

“And my heart is set on youuu!” His voice cracked on the last note, being too high. They both dissolved into giggles.

“Yeah, I'm definitely Grease Lightning.” Dash commented near Danny's ear.

“Does that make me Sandy?” Danny asked in an amused voice.

“You're totally Sandy.” Danny laughed, and struggled till Danny put him down.

“Well now I really want to watch Grease, so… let's do that.”

After popping the movie into the DVD player, they resumed their spots on the couch, Danny resting his head on Dash's chest.

“I can't believe you thought I was crying over the nickname Danimal.”

“I thought you were mad!” They both laughed, then quieted. “For the record, I love your scars. They're part of you, and I love you. And I don't want you thinking otherwise!”

It was silent after that, the only sounds being the sound of Grease playing in TV. But they could feel each other's heartbeat- they could feel that they were still there.

To them, that was more than enough.