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It's not like Stiles has never been on a date before. There was this time in seventh grade when he and Jessica Richardson went to the movies and watched Star Trek and that was totally a date.

Except he didn’t known that, and when she tried to hold his hand he jumped a mile in the air, babbled something about a nonexistent skin disease and spent the rest of the afternoon slowly edging away from her. He thought they were just hanging out as friends because friends go to the movies, he and Scott do it all the time, and maybe he and Jess hadn't really talked that much beforehand and weren’t close or anything, but hey, Stiles is always looking to expand his circle of friends, you can't blame him for that.

Okay, so it's possible Stiles has never been on a real date. One where both parties were aware of and agreeable to the fact.

It's also possible he's a little nervous.


Three days ago, Stiles finally hit his how-many-times-can-I-ask-Danny-if-he-finds-me-attractive-before-he-catches-on-that-I-maybe-sorta-have-a-little-crush-on-him quota. In his defense, he really wanted to know, because he bought a new shirt and it's a nice shirt, and anyone remotely interested in guys should find him attractive in it. Allison even commented on it, and she never notices shit like that. "Stiles, you look kinda nice today, is that a new shirt or something?" Not exactly a glowing recommendation, but he'd take it.

It went something like this:

"Hey, Danny, what do you think of my new shirt?"

"It's fine, Stiles. Pass me the sodium hydroxide."

"You didn't even look dude, seriously, does this shirt make me look hot?"

"Yes, Stiles, very hot."

"You're still not looking at me, c'mon, I'm more interesting than titrations."

Upon which Danny looked up, smiled in his I'm-Danny-and-I'm-nice way and said, very calmly:

"Stiles. It's a nice shirt.”

And Stiles grinned at him, and was about to say something about how of course it was a nice shirt, because he has excellent taste in clothes, when Danny frowned a tiny bit, and followed it up with, “Would you like to go on a date with me?"

And Stiles gaped and them babbled and then blushed and somehow managed to work a yes into there and Danny had rolled his eyes, said "I'll pick you up at seven on Saturday now can we please get back to the experiment?"

He'd say it wasn't his finest hour, except he has a date with Danny. So it was kind of a win.


He's lying on his bed, iPod out, headphones on, trying not to think too hard about everything. He's dressed and showered and cologne'd up and it's three minutes to seven and Stiles is about to go on his first date.

Seventeen’s not too old to do that, right?

His dad bangs on the door and Stiles leaps about a foot in the air off his bed, fumbling his headphones off.

"Stiles, Danny's here," his dad calls out, and he gets out "I'll be down in a sec!" before standing and taking a deep breath.

It's not a big deal. He'll be fine. Danny's nice. He's cool, too, and he's interesting and he's really tall and he's really good-looking and popular and oh god, why on earth is he going on a date with Stiles?

"Be cool, Stiles," he mutters, wipes his palms on his jeans, and heads downstairs.

Danny's standing in his entranceway, chatting to his dad and he's being all tall and...Danny, politely asking the Sheriff about his weekend plans. Stiles just kind of stands and stares for a moment because Danny's wearing a new shirt (yes, hahaha etc, he appreciates the irony) and it's doing some amazing things for his shoulders. Danny catches sight of him over the the Sheriff's shoulder and says, "Oh, hey Stiles, ready to go?" and he looks so cool and unflustered and there's no way Stiles isn't going to do something embarrassing before the night is over.

"Yeah, yep, let's go," he says.

"Have fun!" his dad calls after them as they leave, and he thankfully leaves it at that. Not that his father is one of those embarrassing parent, generally, it's actually a lot more frequent that Stiles embarrasses him. Which he really wishes wasn't the case, but it's kind of inevitable when you run around with werewolves and end up in a lot of situations that there are no good explanations for.


It was a slightly awkward conversation, Stiles just sitting down at breakfast and going "hey Dad, you know how you think I'm not into guys well I kind of am and I have a date this weekend is that okay?" in one breath.

His father was surprised, and a little wary, until Stiles told him the date was with Danny. Then he just relaxed, and said "oh, okay, that's fine."

"What? Why are you suddenly okay with this?"

"Danny's a good kid. I trust him,” the Sheriff replied, shrugging. He took a sip of coffee. “I was afraid it was with Jackson, to be honest."

Stiles nearly choked on his waffle.

"I - what? Jackson?"

"I know he's very popular, I thought maybe - "

"Dad, just, no. Jackson, Jesus Christ."

And Stiles shuddered and shook his head furiously and his dad said "well, good" and that was that.

It could have gone worse.


"So where are we going?" he asks, climbing into the passenger side of Danny's car. It's a nice one, not as flashy as Jackson's Porsche, but sleek and pretty still. Incredibly inferior to Stiles's jeep, but then every car is.

"I thought we'd grab dinner somewhere, and then there's a gig later I thought we could go to? It's a small venue, but it's cool and the music will be good. Is that okay?"

Danny looks and sounds a little nervous now, fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he watches for Stiles's reaction. It makes Stiles relax, instantly, and he grins.

"Sounds good."

"Awesome," Danny says, grinning right back. Stiles relaxes back into the comfortable seat. Maybe tonight won’t be a disaster after all.


Stiles fell in love with Lydia Martin on the fourth day of first grade, when Michael Harris pushed Stiles off the swing and Lydia proceeded to kick Michael in the shins until he ran away crying.

Admittedly, she then took the swing herself, but she smiled at Stiles and told him in a whisper, “Michael’s a jerk,” and Stiles giggled, because jerk was a bad word his mom had told him never to say and Lydia was really pretty and really nice. Even if she was a girl and Scott said girls had cooties.

He hasn’t liked Danny for anything like as long, and Danny is about as different to Lydia as it’s possible to get, but that doesn’t change the fact that a few months ago Danny just kind of looked at him and Stiles thought holy shit, you have really nice eyes, and he felt something squirm low in his gut and it was more or less a downward spiral from there.


They get pizza at Ralph’s, who do cheese in the crust which Stiles assures Danny “will change your life, dude, seriously”. It’; they talk about school and lacrosse and pointedly avoid mentioning anything supernatural. Danny found out about everything sometime in the middle of junior year and took it in his (long, long) stride (and hey, now Stiles is thinking about Danny’s legs and he can feel the blush starting) surprisingly well.

While Stiles thinks they could probably bond over the whole my-best-friend-is-a-werewolf-what-the-fuck thing, he would really love just one night not spent thinking about all that insane shit.

Not to mention he really doesn’t want to talk about Jackson.

So he doesn’t bring it up, and neither does Danny.

The pizza is great and they stay a while, and get dessert and talk and it feels so comfortable that Stiles can hardly believe this is a date. Most of his imaginary dates have been with Lydia and he’d spend the entire time trying to impress her and wouldn’t be able to relax for five minutes.

Danny pays, even though Stiles protests (“I asked you out, Stiles, I’m going to pay. You can get it next time,” which makes him smile because he’s pretty sure he just scored a second date, hell yeah) and then they walk to the venue.

It’s a small club, tucked on a street corner that Stiles has walked past a hundred times. They get in without a problem, Stiles doesn’t even have to use the totally believable fake ID he has, and grab a table. The club is nice - low lighting, but not uncomfortable so, tiny tables with too many chairs squished around them, posters and prints all over the brick walls. A small stage is up the front, and there are three dudes on it, tuning a couple of guitars and whispering to each other.

“You want a drink?” Danny asks him. Stiles nods and Danny keeps staring at him until he says, “what?” even though he doesn’t particularly mind being stared at by Danny.

“Anything more specific than that?” Oh, right.

“Uh...a beer?” he asks, rather than says, and Danny smiles and heads over to the bar.

Stiles pretends he isn’t staring at his ass as he walks away until he remembers this is a date and then he totally, blatantly stares at Danny’s ass as he leans over the bar.

It’s a great ass.

Danny returns with Stiles’s drink and a coke for himself (responsible driver, right, Stiles makes a note to tell his father, he might as well rack Danny up some bonus points.) He sits next to Stiles, rather than opposite him and Stiles’s mind, which just won’t shut up, kicks into overdrive. Is that normal first date behavior? Is it some kind of subtle indicator that he thinks they should be just friends?

Stiles really has no idea how these things work.

“So do you think Mr. Harris has ever killed someone?” Danny asks, and Stiles nearly spits out his drink.

“Definitely,” he says fervently, wiping his chin, and Danny laughs.

“He’s got the crazy eyes,” he agrees. “He once made me retake a test six times until I got everything right.”

“Remind me why I took AP Chemistry again?”

“You just love being my lab partner,” Danny says, smiling and leaning a little closer and oh, Danny’s definitely flirting with him and that would be awesome except Stiles doesn’t really know how to flirt.

“Well you are great with your hands,” he says, and even though there’s a red sign with big sparkly letters spelling out YOU DID NOT JUST SAY THAT JESUS CHRIST STILES flashing in his head, Danny just laughs again.

“Very talented,” he says, winking and taking a sip of his drink.

Thankfully before he can ask Danny for a demonstration or something equally embarrassing, the band walks on stage and the music starts.


“What’re your plans for next year?” Danny asks. The band are between sets, and there’s a quiet buzz of conversation in the room. The music’s good - a little quieter than what Stiles would usually listen to, but it’s nice. It makes him feel...older, more serious. Less like the kid who runs after his best friend and his insane werewolf pack and more like, well. His own person.

Danny helps with that, too. Stiles can’t remember the last time he had an entire conversation that was about, well. Him, mostly, and his life outside of Scott and werewolves and all that shit. Danny’s good at conversation, he’s good at listening like he actually cares about what Stiles is saying.

“Hopefully UC, Davis,” he says. “I think it’s kind of a long shot, but that’s my first choice.”

Danny laughs, and says “that’s my first choice, too” when Stiles asks why.

Stiles has this image, straight away, of going to college with Danny, hanging out between classes, getting to know the area. Going out on friday nights, maybe getting a place together (because Stiles is kind of dreading the idea of living in dorms), and making out on the couch and he really needs to reel this fantasy in because holy shit, this is only their first date.

Stiles isn’t very good at liking someone just a little bit. He’s kind of afraid this date is going to ruin him for other people for a while.

“Cool,” he says instead of anything embarrassing, and takes another sip of his drink. “Know what you wanna study?”

“Nah, not really. But sister goes there, she says it’s a great school, and it’d be nice to see her more.”

Stiles didn’t even know Danny had a sister, and it’s so weird, that he’s known Danny for six years but they don’t really know anything about each other.

“What’s she like?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“She’s great. She’s six years older than me, but she doesn’t treat me like a kid. There was this one time...”

Turns out Danny is a wicked storyteller, he has Stiles in tears of laughter that would be totally embarrassing if he couldn’t tell Danny was enjoying his reaction, his eyes crinkling a little as he grins at Stiles nearly doubled over.

“No siblings?” he asks, once Stiles can breathe properly again.

“Nah, only child, it’s great.”

“Spoiled?” Danny teases.

“Oh, absolutely,” Stiles says, and he’s only half-joking. “My dad’s great, actually,” he adds, more seriously. “It was kinda hard after - after my mom died, but he’s. Awesome, actually. Puts up with a lot of my shit.” He winces. Way to bring down the mood, Stilinski. He doesn’t even like talking about his mom, not even with his dad, but there’s something about Danny that invites confidences.

“Sorry, not really first date conversation,” he says, smiling weakly.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Danny says softly, and yep that’s his hand covering Stiles’s on the table and it’s a really nice hand.

“Thanks,” is all he can manage.

Danny changes the subject because he’s totally awesome like that, and then the music starts up again. They turn back to the stage, and if halfway through the set Danny slings his arm around the back of Stiles’s chair and Stiles sort of leans into his side a little, well. It is a date, after all.


Stiles is quiet on the ride back to his place.

He knows he has a reputation for talking a lot, and yeah, he doesn’t know how to filter all that well. He doesn’t always feel very comfortable around most people and he feels the need to fill the silence to stop himself thinking about what they’re thinking about him.

Plus, you generally have to say things a lot of times to get them through Scott’s head.

But for once he doesn’t feel like he has to talk, like he has to be funny. He’s relaxed and tired and, well. Happy. He had fun tonight, and at no point did he fear for his life.

Danny pulls up outside his house and switches off the car.

“Thanks for dinner,” Stiles says. “I had a good time tonight,” he adds, because apparently he’s playing cliche bingo.

“Yeah, me too,” Danny says, and it sounds easy and sincere rather than just a token response and this is the point where Stiles wants to ask if they can do it again sometime, and maybe again after that but he can’t seem to force the words out of his throat.

“Okay, so, um, I should go?” he says uncertainly, fumbling with the door. Danny gets out and oh god, is he going to walk Stiles to the door?

Apparently so, because they walk across the yard, shoulders bumping and it makes Stiles feel a little bit flustered and nervous.

“D’you, uh, wanna hang out again sometime?” he manages after a beat, because even asking Danny out as awkwardly as that is better than standing in awkward silence. It’s so dumb, because at no point this evening has he felt uncomfortable at all.

Danny bites his lip and looks down. “Stiles, I feel like I should tell you...” he starts, and oh god, here it comes, the crushing rejection.

“Um, okay?”

“When I asked you out the other day, I didn’t really - I was mostly just trying to shut you up. I didn’t really think you’d say yes and - ”

God, it’s worse than he thought, and how does Stiles manage to screw up a date before it even happens?

“No, it’s cool, man, I get it - ” he starts, desperately trying to reassure Danny that it’s totally fine that he doesn’t like Stiles, hey, Stiles doesn’t like himself all that much sometimes and he’s seen Danny’s last boyfriend and Stiles can’t really blame Danny for thinking he’s a step down because that dude was pretty hot.

“No, wait, I wasn’t done,” Danny interrupts, frowning a little. “I was going to say it’s not that I’ve never thought about, um, you before, or that I don’t like you, but you’ve always been into Lydia,” oh awesome, Lydia is exactly what Stiles wants to think about right now, “and I didn’t think you’d ever actually go out with a guy. So I didn’t really think about it. But,” he says, and now he’s looking straight at Stiles and he’s smiling and Danny has awesome teeth and the rest of his mouth isn’t bad either and shit, Stiles can’t stop staring at it, “I’m glad you did. I had fun. So we should definitely go out again.”

Stiles blinks.

“Oh.” And then he can’t think of a single thing to say to that. And he’s still looking at Danny’s mouth.

“Oh for god’s - ” Danny says, and then he kisses Stiles.

Stiles, okay, Stiles has never been kissed before. Not really. There was an unfortunate incident last year involving Erica and some seriously crossed wires (why does that keep happening to him) but that absolutely does not count, there were too many teeth (well, fangs) involved. So he flails a little bit, his arms not sure what to do, but then he gets his hands tangled in Danny’s shirt and he tilts his head back and wonders briefly if he should stand on his toes so Danny doesn’t end up with a back ache, and kisses him back.

Danny’s mouth feels every bit as fantastic as it looks. His lips are soft and he really knows what he’s doing and those hands that Stiles was thinking about earlier are sliding around the back of his neck and his thumbs are sliding across his jaw and Stiles is so so on board with this and he’s just thinking about whether he should be adding some tongue when -

The porch light flicks on because apparently his father can’t totally resist the temptation to embarrass his son on his first date.

“Um,” is all he can manage when Danny pulls back. His brain doesn’t provide anything more helpful than the inconsequential observation that Danny is still touching his face.

“I’ll see you at school,” Danny says, kisses him again, smiles, and slides off back to his car.

Stiles resists the temptation to punch the air in victory, instead unlocking the front door. Once inside, it’s possible he gives in to temptation. Just a little bit.

“Good date?” his father asks, and he’s smirking a little, leaning casually against the door to the kitchen like he wasn’t spying on his son not thirty seconds ago.

“It was okay,” he says, shrugging, but he's smiling and his dad just rolls his eyes and shoos him up the stairs..

He makes it to his bedroom door before his phone beeps.

From: Danny M

Wanna hang out tomorrow?

Stiles laughs and texts back a quick "sure, come over after lunch?" before he flops down on his bed and grins at the ceiling.

Best first date ever.