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The Taste Of Sweat And Metal On His Tongue

Chapter Text

Danny didn't find Stiles attractive – not in a conventional sense, anyway. He was cute, enough so that Danny had thought about it, but cute and funny never really grabbed him low in the gut the way that confident and sexy always had. Oh, being adorable with a good sense of humor was a definite bonus, but without that hint of sex appeal? Well, it just wasn't enough to hold his interest, so no matter how many times Stiles asked if he was attractive, Danny never said yes.

But he never said no, either, because Danny was raised to be a decent guy. It seemed too harsh; he wasn't unattractive, and whether Stiles was actually into guys or not didn't matter – though Danny was pretty sure that he was – a flat out rejection would always hurt, right? And he just hadn't figured out a way to tell Stiles that he was cute but just not really attractive to him, at least not without sounding like he was just trying to spare some hurt feelings. Stiles was too observant and a little too self-deprecating for Danny to give him that sort of ammunition to use on himself.

If he were being honest, Danny liked Stiles. Liked him more than he would probably ever admit, mostly because Stiles was scarily good at latching onto slivers of hope and the last thing Danny needed was to be the focus of the kind of epic crush Stiles was capable of. Stiles had a lot of qualities that Danny admired, but he just didn't feel any chemistry and without that, what was the point?

Maybe that was shallow, but he'd tried to date people he wasn't attracted to before and it never worked. It just led to wasted time and hurt feelings, and he didn't want to risk doing that to Stiles, didn't want to give him a reason to think Danny was interested that might hurt him later.

So instead of answering Stiles, he just kept his mouth shut and treated the question like an ongoing inconvenience. Which it was, because Stiles was nothing if not persistent. By not answering, Danny was just leaving him with the inclination to ask again another day. And he did. All the time.

Danny always cursed his good nature (though he wouldn't change it for the world – he liked being liked, and besides, someone needed to counter Jackson's attitude) because it made him forever the good guy; the guy who got dumped instead of doing the dumping, the guy who harbored hopeless crushes he would never act on, and the guy who was stuck letting the sort-of-sweet-but-sort-of-odd dork ask him the same irritating question every few days. Except that maybe Danny should be throwing a party instead of a pity parade over that last one, because after lacrosse practice on Friday Stiles had become a lot more interesting.

Considering what he'd seen, it was probably good for Danny that he'd never given Stiles an outright no, because that no had turned very, very rapidly into a yes. And maybe – well, almost certainly – nothing would come of it, but at least that wasn't because Danny had been short sighted and told Stiles no too quickly.

Because holy shit.

Stiles had a navel piercing.



Had a navel piercing.

It had played on his mind for the entire weekend. Every time he closed his eyes he saw a glint of metal surrounded by warm flesh. When he ate, the fork sliding between his lips made him ache to know the feeling of body jewelry slipping against his tongue and teeth.

On Friday night – and each night after – he'd gone to bed with thoughts of nibbling along skin and tonguing gently against Stiles' navel; it left him hard, wanting. That first night, he'd tossed and turned, ignoring his frustration until he finally fell asleep in the early hours of Saturday morning.

When he woke, it was to come stained sheets and a hazy memory of steel and saliva.

After that he'd quit trying to resist – but he promised himself he'd avoid Stiles like the plague until the weird fixation he'd swiftly developed disappeared and he was less likely to embarrass himself thinking about that tiny piece of metal.

No matter how hard he struggled, Danny just couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of it. The fact that Stiles (Stiles!) had a body piercing totally messed with his head. Danny found himself constantly staring at him, or more accurately, at Stiles' stomach, as though if he tried hard enough he'd be able to see through the loose layers of fabric to the skin and secret hidden underneath.

It was getting to be a problem. So much so that Jackson had noticed, not that he suspected the reason for Danny's distraction.

"I know," he'd commented with a head tilt in Stiles' direction, "it's hideous, isn't it?"

It had taken Danny a good twenty seconds to figure out that Jackson was talking about the shirt Stiles was wearing. He was probably lucky that the idea of Stiles being attractive was completely outside of Jackson's realm of comprehension; otherwise there was no way he would have been able to cover up his interest. He knew he needed to get over it, preferably fast.

But he just couldn't help himself.

And maybe he didn't need to get over it. Maybe Stiles' questioning was more than vague inquisitiveness. Maybe—

No. Danny didn't want or need to start thinking along those lines, to develop another pointless crush. And judging by the way Stiles followed Lydia like a devoted puppy, it would absolutely be pointless.

All week he'd been sneaking glances in the locker room. Not like that…that was one line Danny never crossed, but he couldn't stop his eyes from flicking to Stiles as he changed shirts in the hopes he'd catch another glimpse of that shiny bar. It was in vain, though. Danny had never noticed before – had never had reason to notice before – but unlike the rest of the team, Stiles never kept his shirt off for more than a second and he always faced his locker when he changed. It was possible, Danny considered, that no one else knew. Maybe not even Scott.

In fact, Danny wouldn't have ever known if he hadn't been in just the right spot at just the right time (or maybe that should be the wrong spot at the wrong time – he still hadn't decided if his new knowledge was a blessing or a curse) to see a gleam of light catch the curved barbell in Stiles' navel.

If he hadn't been wandering past the end of that row of lockers just as Stiles slipped his shirt off, Danny would still be blissfully ignorant, and his mind wouldn't be overrun with the kind of obscene thoughts the sight had triggered.

The weird thing was that Danny couldn't even puzzle together why it was getting to him so badly. He'd never really cared too deeply one way or the other about body art. Sure, sometimes he saw a tattoo or a piercing and thought it looked good, but his newfound fascination with Stiles and his unexpected adornment was something else altogether.

Just the weekend before his Stiles-related revelation, Danny had been at Jungle, had seen several good looking guys with various piercings; lip, nose, eyebrow, even nipple rings visible under barely-there mesh. But he certainly hadn't reacted in such a strong way to any of those. Apparently it wasn't a piercing thing, as much as it was a Stiles-with-a-piercing thing.

Hell, during Tuesday's practice, Danny had actually choked on his own saliva when Stiles took a hit and landed on his back only a few yards from the goal. The second Danny had seen skin, where Stiles' shirt had ridden up several inches but not remotely far enough, he'd practically tried to swallow his own tongue and ended up coughing roughly.

He tried to analyze his steadily growing interest – and didn't that feel like the understatement of the century – but thinking about why he wanted to see and touch and taste Stiles' navel piercing just led him to thinking about doing those things, and really, it was a vicious cycle. Maybe it was the incongruity of it; the fact that Stiles was cute-yet-dorky on the outside, but underneath those layers…well. It took a certain level of confidence for a guy to get a body piercing, especially one that was so often considered feminine. And Danny had always been attracted to confidence. It didn't hurt that when he saw the metal bar, Danny also saw smooth, pale skin and lean abs. Stiles wasn't muscularly built, not like a lot of the other guys on the team, but he was slender and defined, with near perfect skin. He had some small moles scattered along his torso, which didn't surprise Danny, but instead of looking like flaws they reminded him of drops of chocolate begging to be kissed away.

Oh, yeah. His view of Stiles had definitely changed.

But in Danny's defense, who would have guessed that under the baggy clothes and hyperactivity, Stiles was actually hot?

"Hey, Danny!"

Oh, crap.

Danny closed his eyes, counted to three and hoped for the best. He'd managed to avoid Stiles aside from in class and at practice for nearly four days, but apparently he'd dropped the ball, because that was definitely Stiles. He closed his locker door and opened his eyes, turning slowly to face the current bane of his existence. And yes, maybe that was overdramatic, but Danny was feeling pretty entitled considering the way his brain had betrayed him for the last several days.

"Hey Stiles…uh, what's up?"

Please don't ask, please don't ask, please don't ask.

"Nothing, just…have you seen Jackson?"

Oh, thank God.

"Not since History," Danny answered, "he's probably already lef—"

"Also, I know I keep asking, but you keep not answering – not cool, man, by the way – but seriously, am I attractive to guys? Because…well…I need to know. You know, for reasons."

Danny groaned and let his head fall back until it hit his locker door loudly and somewhat painfully. He had no idea how to reply, because fuck, yes just didn't seem like a good idea. This was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid. His brain was filled with thoughts of kissing, licking, biting; starting with Stiles' navel, hell, just taking his fucking time right there before working his way lower. This was officially a disaster. He could feel heat spreading across his cheeks and he was mortified by it; he was actually blushing. In front of Stiles. Fuck his life. And fuck his imagination, seriously.

He clenched his jaw and shouldered his backpack, trying to push past Stiles before it got any worse.

"Dude," Stiles hand on his bicep was completely unexpected, "are you okaa-hey! Wow! You're all red and that's…that's totally a yes. I mean, it is, isn't it? You've finally noticed the hotness that is me. Congratulations, Danny-man, you're like, miles ahead of the rest of this school."

"Awesome," Danny deadpanned, pulling his arm away roughly and starting down the hall. It was silly how much Stiles' reaction hurt. It shouldn't, he rationalized, because there was nothing between them, they weren't even really friends. He'd known nothing would come of it, but some tiny part of him had apparently missed the memo, because now that Stiles was joking about it, Danny felt utterly humiliated.

"Hey, no, wait," Stiles called out, appearing in a rush from behind Danny to block his path, "don't be like that. Come on, man. I mean, I've been asking you for…I dunno…months. You can't blame me for being happy to find out the answer is yes! I didn't…I wasn't…ugh…seriously, Danny, I wasn't trying to make fun of you or anything. I wouldn't do that."

"Thanks. And I know. But that doesn't actually make me feel any less embarrassed, so could you just—"

Stiles made a strange noise, something between a choke and a laugh, and cut Danny off. "Embarrassed? Man…you want to talk about embarrassed? How about being so low on the social hierarchy that the people you crush on literally ignore you and walk away when you ask them a direct question? I mean, no offense taken by that, dude. I get it, I can be annoying, but still…that…that is the definition of embarrassing."

Danny had no idea how to reply. Not only because Stiles' words made him feel like a complete asshole, but also because his brain had somehow zeroed in on the fact that Stiles had a crush on him and was furiously trying to process it.

"I…I don't know what to say," he confessed, because he had to say something, even if it was nothing helpful at all.

"It's cool. Well, not cool. But it's okay. Really. I mean, it was always a no, right? You were just too nice to say it. That's definitely a step up from Ly— from my other crush, who actually isn't very concerned with my feelings or, you know, my existence approximately ninety percent of the time."

He wasn't sure how to approach any kind of conversation about Stiles' long standing crush on Lydia, and even less sure of how to explain to Stiles that his no was more of a not really, I'm sorry, but I do kind of like you in other ways. Both of those topics seemed like dangerous roads to travel.

"So why did you keep asking?" As soon as he'd spoken, Danny regretted the question. Because really, what a way to take a dig at the guy putting himself on the line. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded…"

Stiles shrugged, his mouth curled on one side in a self-conscious smile. "Because I'm terminally hopeful. Or hopeless, whatever. I guess I just kind of figured that until you said no, maybe there was a chance you would say yes."

"Wow," Danny breathed, suddenly glad he'd let his guard down enough for Stiles to corner him. "Stiles, I never thought – I mean – I just thought you were being curious or something. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Stiles grinned, waving away Danny's apology and eyeing him good-humoredly, "I mean, I'm a genius-level mastermind, and my plan clearly worked, didn't it?"

Danny chuckled and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess it did." He paused for a moment, shoving his mortification aside to wonder if there was any way he could move the conversation smoothly to where he wanted. Probably not, he finally decided, he'd just have to try the direct route. "So, did you want to…that is, if you're not busy—"

"Do I want to go out with you?" Stiles interrupted. "Totally. Unless that's not what you were going to ask…in which case, I still do, but you should continue with what you were saying while I brainstorm ways to salvage whatever is left of my dignity."

"Your dignity is completely safe. Or at least what's left of it," Danny joked.

Stiles gaped in protest, but he was clearly amused. "Hey, I'll have you know I'm filled with dignity. Overflowing, even. I am the personification of dignified. And I will continue to be dignified…wherever it is that you are taking me…tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night," Danny agreed, regaining his composure. But whatever confidence Stiles had built for himself at Danny's earlier awkwardness seemed to have dissolved, because while Stiles was still smiling eagerly, he also looked nervous. Danny found it oddly endearing. "How does seven sound?"

"Seven sounds good," Stiles answered, nodding quickly. "Perfect, even. I'll see you then."

Danny grinned. Stiles' obvious enthusiasm left him feeling bold, so he leaned in and placed a kiss on Stiles' cheek, just close enough to brush the very edge of his mouth. "It's a date," he murmured. He pulled back quickly, shooting Stiles one last smile before he walked away. He chose to ignore the butterflies in his stomach and the pounding in his chest, in favor of thinking about the way Stiles' face had reddened at the contact.

When he glanced back at Stiles their eyes locked, and Danny couldn't help but notice; Stiles had amazing eyes. How had he ever missed that?

As he left the school, Danny thanked whatever deity was responsible for hormonal teenagers, because he'd somehow gotten through that entire conversation without anything inappropriate happening either in his brain or on his body (especially the latter…that would have just made everything unbearable). Aside from his very first reaction to Stiles' question, his thoughts had steered mercifully clear of the body art that had been haunting him for nearly a week, and so he'd managed to not humiliate himself even further. Thank goodness for small miracles.

He just had to hope he could hold onto that through his date; he really didn't want Stiles to think he was just looking to hook up. He liked Stiles, actually liked him, even prior to this whole…thing…whatever it was. That, plus his newly developed attraction, left him thinking that maybe their date could lead to something more serious.

Assuming he could control his new – and apparently person-specific – kink enough to not scare Stiles away, of course.

Chapter Text

"Aside from the sense of foreboding, this place is actually pretty cool," Danny admitted, glancing around the picnic area of Beacon Hills Preserve. It was kind of creepy at night, but somehow Stiles looked comfortable there, which made Danny feel almost comfortable, too.

Stiles beamed at him around his slice of pizza, looking pleased with himself. "I know, right?" he replied once he'd finished off the food in his mouth. "It's awesome." He took another ridiculously large bite, and Danny grinned, shaking his head. Stiles was…well, Stiles was completely different to anyone else Danny knew, and he was starting to realize just how much he enjoyed that.

Their date had gone surprisingly well so far. Danny hadn't known Stiles well enough to pick something creative, so he figured pizza and a movie was a good idea. It was simple and popular for a reason, after all. They'd ended up seeing the movie first; neither of them had been very hungry earlier in the night and Stiles had declared that he didn't want to fill up before the popcorn.

Danny agreed quickly, because he found himself needing to be somewhere that he wouldn't incriminate himself. Stiles wasn't wearing his normally baggy clothes, which Danny found incredibly distracting. He wasn't exactly wearing anything skin tight, but Stiles' shirt was fitted enough that when he moved the fabric pulled against his stomach. Danny could catch just a hint of unnatural shaping where Stiles' navel was, and it left his mouth dry. He figured that the dark of the movie theatre would at least stop him from being able to see it. Then hopefully by the time they left he'd have relaxed enough to not act like a total freak.

It worked, sort of. The dark meant he couldn't see much, yes, except it didn't really stop him from picturing what he knew was there. For a while he'd had to work hard to focus on the movie, but eventually he eased up and managed to have fun. It was nice. Danny suspected that Stiles was the type to add a running commentary as he watched the movie, because every time he glanced over it looked like Stiles wanted to make a joke or remark about something on screen. Sometimes he couldn't stop himself, and Danny realized his crush must have grown, because he found it funny rather than annoying. It must have been something Stiles learned not to do too often at the cinema, he figured, but that he'd probably do constantly if they were watching a movie somewhere more private. Danny wanted to find out.

By the time they'd arrived at the pizza place, Danny had managed to steer his focus away from Stiles' body art, and towards the fun they were having. Stiles was great company; he was funny, smart, cute, and he was never at a loss for weird, yet interesting things to talk about. Danny was enjoying the night, and going by the animated and happy look on Stiles' face, he was too.

Unfortunately, the pizza place had been completely packed. Danny wasn't ready for the night to end, he wanted to spend more time with Stiles, so he'd suggested a few other places they could eat, but Stiles just shook his head and said they should get a pizza to go.

"I know a great place where we can hang out," he'd promised.

Danny had agreed, so they'd chatted until their pizza was ready then got into Danny's car, Danny guided by Stiles' directions until they arrived at the preserve.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? Isn't this place a little dangerous at night?" he'd asked, and Stiles scoffed at him.

"Dangerous? Nah, man. I mean, Scott and I have come out here heaps of times at night, and we've only found one dead body. Actually, I wasn't even there, so technically, I've been here heaps of times and have never found a dead body. This place is totally safe."

"Strangely enough," Danny replied slowly once he'd managed to process what Stiles had said, "that doesn't reassure me a whole lot."

"Seriously, just trust me. This place is great."

And maybe it wasn't smart in theory, to venture into a wooded area at night where someone he knew had found a dead body – Jesus. But Danny did trust Stiles, and more than that, the idea of enjoying their food somewhere private, somewhere they could spend time talking properly and getting to know each other, appealed to him enough to throw caution to the wind.

So there they were, at a picnic bench in the preserve, enjoying their still warm pizza and each other's company. Danny was almost glad the pizza place had been so busy, because despite their surroundings, he was having a great time.

They worked their way through the rest of the pizza, Danny eating neatly while Stiles completely demolished each slice he picked up. Stiles ate with the same enthusiasm he did everything, and Danny honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun just eating a meal. Everything Stiles did would have seemed exaggerated coming from anyone else, but from Stiles it was natural, and it made Danny smile.

He was probably getting ahead of himself, but he couldn't help but wonder if Stiles would want to go out with him again, maybe more than once. Maybe regularly…in a non-casual, actually dating instead of going out on dates, kind of way.

Okay, dial it back. This only is a first date.

The thing was that Danny was a relationship kind of guy. He'd had the odd hook up that didn't last, but it wasn't really him. He was the type to get attached, although he wasn't normally thinking about whether it was too soon to make something official on the first date. Especially not with someone who was, as far as most of the town was aware, straight. For all he knew Stiles might not want to even go on a second date, let alone get into any kind of relationship with him. Hell, Stiles might even be holding out hope that Lydia would suddenly change her mind and give him a chance.

Danny was absolutely not going to focus on the way that made his stomach twist, because he didn't actually have the right to be jealous. So, no. He wasn't going to be jealous. At all.

Except that he was. And he liked to think he was a fairly upfront guy, so he just needed to ask. Otherwise he'd come up with all sorts of things in his head, and so far none of the things he'd thought of Stiles had been accurate.

"So, uh, what's up with you and Lydia?"

Stiles spluttered. "Lydia? What…I mean…why…? I have no idea what you are talking about. There's nothing going on between me and Lydia."

"Well, yeah, I know that," Danny retorted, rolling his eyes but instantly feeling guilty for it. Just because he was getting attached too quickly didn't mean he should take it out on Stiles. He took a deep breath and figured it was best to try again. "I'm just asking, because you kind of want there to be, don't you? No offence, but your crush is sort of legendary, so I'm just curious."

"Oh God," Stiles groaned. "I don't suppose by legendary, you mean it's the kind of story that people don't actually believe, do you?"

Danny shook his head, suppressing a chuckle. Somehow, even in this kind of awkward conversation, he found Stiles amusing. "No. I mean legendary, like people will be passing the story from generation to generation."

Stiles sighed loudly and dramatically, dropping his face into his hands and mumbling something that Danny didn't quite understand. He probably wasn't meant to, though, so he let it go. It took a while, but eventually Stiles pulled his hands away and looked back at Danny.

"Okay, yes, I've been crushing on Lydia forever, almost. I mean…for ages. Since we were kids. And I'm probably always going to wish she saw me differently, but sometimes…well, sometimes I think maybe it's more of a habit than anything else. Okay, no, that sounds stupid. It's not a habit, exactly. It's…I don't really know, dude."

"Comfortable?" Danny spoke without really meaning to, but from the look on Stiles' face, he could tell he was closer to the truth than he'd realized.

"Sort of, I guess. It's just…I think I really love her, in a way, but it's like a distant-fairy-tale way. Kind of like she's my celebrity crush, you know? I'm not an idiot; I know it's never going to happen, and to be honest? Even if it did, I don't think it would work. Because, as awesome as she is, she's kind of mean. She's a total hard-ass, and I'm not really a masochist." He grimaced slightly. Danny was curious, but he figured it wasn't really his place to ask what Stiles was focusing on in that fast running mind of his. "No matter how much I let people walk all over me, I do explode eventually. Don't get me wrong – I'm pretty sure Lydia and I could take over the whole human race as friends, but if it got to be more than that? We'd probably end up destroying the entire planet instead. Like, literally. Ka-boom." Stiles arms were gesturing wildly, simulating the explosion of Earth, and Danny thought that maybe he understood. Even if Stiles still nursed his crush on Lydia, she was a dream, and he knew it.

They fell into silence. It wasn't what Danny would call a comfortable silence, but it wasn't terribly uncomfortable, either. Stiles was clearly thinking about something, his admission about Lydia, maybe. Or possibly something completely unrelated. Stiles' thought process wasn't something Danny thought he was qualified to follow. Not yet, anyway.

On his part, Danny was thinking about what Stiles had said, not just about Lydia, but also what he'd said the day before about him. Despite his everlasting crush on Lydia, Stiles had admitted he'd had a crush on Danny, too. He could only hope that Stiles didn't hold him on that same pedestal he held Lydia. But, Stiles accepted a date with him, so that had to be a good sign. They'd been having a good time; it didn't feel forced or particularly awkward, at least not as far as Danny could tell.

It wasn't long after Danny started considering the potential issue that Stiles spoke. Apparently, he could be weirdly intuitive. "It's different with you, you know. Sort of. Not completely different, but kind of less fairy tale, more reality," he explained. He must have been worried that Danny wouldn't understand, because he rushed to clarify. "In a good way."

Danny watched for a moment as Stiles frowned, looking puzzled, before his face cleared and he spoke again. "Okay, I'm going to sound like a total loser, but bear with me, because no pain, no gain, right?" He paused, and Danny figured he was looking for reassurance, so he nodded encouragingly. Stiles smiled at him, though it looked a little forced. "Alright, so, I'm going to ignore how much I can't believe I admitted I have a crush on you, because hey, date. And working off that risk to reward ratio, I'm just going to man up and hope for the best. So, anyway; my crush on you was always less dream-y, and more real-y. It's like…Lydia was always this perfect flower that I could love from afar, but you were, I don't know, touchable. I guess." He paused for a moment, and Danny observed, amused, as Stiles' face contorted. "Wow. I just sounded way creepy. I swear, dude, I'm not a creeper. Ha…that's exactly what a creeper would say, isn't it? Late at night. In the woods. Holy crap, I swear, Danny-man. I'm not a creepy creeper and I'm totally not planning on throwing myself at you and having my wicked way with you against your will. Or anything like that." Stiles paused again before bringing his arms up in a peaceable gesture. "Not that I could, because you're built and I'm me, and sarcasm is a cutting weapon but not so great against the physical and…I'm just going to stop talking now."

"But you're so good at it," Danny joked. Stiles relaxed a little, his face melting from anxious to relieved. "You can relax, though. I don't think you're the chloroform-on-the-first-date type of guy."

"Ha! Yeah, sorry. About the rambling. It's…that's something I do, occasionally. When I'm nervous. Or horrified. Or in this case, both."

Danny was beginning to wonder what it was about Stiles getting nervous that made him feel more confident, but clearly there was a pattern there, because the words were coming out before he'd even realized he'd thought them. "You don't need to worry, I mostly zoned out after the part where you said I was touchable."

"You…you did?" Stiles bit into his lower lip, looking torn between uncertainty and hope.

"Yeah. I mean, I heard what you said. But the touchable thing," Danny admitted, staring at Stiles' mouth. His bottom lip was getting fuller, darker from the pressure, and Danny wondered what Stiles would do if he moved forward and soothed the hurt with his tongue, "that was kind of the focal point for me."

"Oh." Stiles licked his lips nervously, like he wanted to say more, but didn't know if he should. Or maybe didn't know what. Danny couldn't tear his eyes away, because Stiles' lips were soft and pink. And shiny. So shiny that they were sort of begging for him to lean across and—

"Jesus, Stiles. If you lick your lips again, I'm not going to be able to stop myself from kissing you."

Stiles' tongue darted along his lip, then stopped mid-movement, resting awkwardly in the crease of his mouth. It had been involuntary, another one of Stiles' nervous reactions, if the widening of his eyes and sharp inhalation meant anything.

He probably should get used to the fact that Stiles rarely did what Danny anticipated of him, anymore. Because while Danny fully expected Stiles to snap his mouth closed, maybe make a joke to diffuse the tension that was resting heavily between them, Stiles had apparently decided on something different. After a split second where he was clearly weighing his options, Stiles blinked slowly, then looked Danny square in the eye and very, very deliberately finished licking his lips.


The next breath Danny took was against Stiles' mouth. Stiles kissed like he did everything, equal parts awkwardness and enthusiasm. That shouldn't be hot, but Danny had definitely fallen too hard and too fast, because it absolutely was. Stiles' kisses were wet and needy, his tongue darted quickly like it couldn't decide where to rest, and the whole experience was so intrinsically Stiles that Danny either had to pull away or risk pushing too far.

Danny didn't move much; barely enough to separate them, still close enough to feel the warm puff of air Stiles released as he spoke. "So," Stiles ventured, "this risk/reward thing is working a lot better for me than it used to."

He couldn't stop his startled laugh, which was a good thing in retrospect, because it made Stiles beam at him. Danny leaned forward, pressing in for another kiss. It was a simple one, just a soft touch, but it left him feeling lightheaded.

Stiles had a hand twined around Danny's neck while Danny had somehow wrapped his arms right around Stiles. He didn't remember doing it, but he certainly had no regrets.

They were still leaning close. Danny was breathing deeply and trying to settle himself when Stiles broke the silence. "What uh – what happens now?"

"We should date."

"Isn't that what we're doing?" Stiles' lips brushed against Danny's as he spoke. Despite the warmth of the night, Danny shivered.

"No…yeah. Yes. But I mean we should date."

"You mean," Stiles pulled back slightly and grinned, "like holding hands in the halls and making out between classes while the rest of the school wonders how I managed to snag someone ten times too awesome for me?"

"I'm not," Danny protested, but Stiles was smiling, so Danny couldn't help but smile, too. "But, yeah. If you want."


Chapter Text

Stiles had officially been Danny's boyfriend for less than an hour before they were kissing in Danny's room. On Danny's bed. It was kind of fast, if Danny was being honest, but he and Stiles had known each other since Kindergarten and it wasn't as though they were going to end up having sex that night or anything. Well, probably not. No. No, definitely not. Because Danny was pretty sure he'd been Stiles' first kiss and it just didn't seem right to go from one extreme to the other all in one night, and they'd only been together for an hour, Jesus, why was his mind even going there?

They just wanted somewhere they could make out in private. The picnic area was empty but still sort of public, and although they weren't doing anything wrong, well, Stiles' dad was the Sheriff. And he didn't even know about Danny being Stiles' boyfriend now – or, Danny suspected, about Stiles being into guys at all – so privacy seemed like a good option. Besides, Danny's parents were out of town and Stiles had been really excited to hear that.

"Dude! We have to go back to your place. I have to make out with my boyfriend on his bed while his parents are out of town. Because that would be awesome."

Danny contemplated saying no for all of about a third of a second. But he didn't, because, well. Because.

And he was so, so glad he hadn't.

Stiles was on top of him, hot and just heavy enough to feel good. They were both still wearing all their clothes, which Danny felt was sort of a pity, but it almost didn't matter with the way Stiles was pressed over him, licking into his mouth and making tiny little noises that went straight to Danny's cock. And Stiles' hands – they were everywhere. Well, almost everywhere. There were definitely some other places that Danny wanted them, but for the moment it was enough. Because sometimes, when he moved in just the right way, Danny could feel Stiles' erection against his own and fuck that felt amazing; the friction made his toes curl and his hips buck against his will. He wanted to take control, to flip Stiles beneath him, to grip his thighs and pull them around Danny's waist, to push against him, hard and fast and so good, until they were fucked out, sweaty and satisfied. God, he wanted to do all of those things, but he didn't want to overstep. He didn't know exactly where the boundaries were yet, even though he wanted desperately to shove past them.

He was being good, or at least he was trying to be. So far Danny's hands had stayed firmly in safe zones, Stiles' neck and shoulders, his back, the dip of his spine right above his hips. And if his hands were slowly straying lower and lower, well, Stiles didn't seem to mind, so…

Warm fingers were tracing a tingling path along Danny's abs, which meant that Stiles' hands had made their way under his shirt. If Stiles was happy for skin to skin contact, Danny was definitely on board. He let out something halfway between a breath and a groan, but it was swallowed by Stiles' mouth, chased away by his tongue. Danny could feel Stiles half smiling, even as they were exploring each other's mouths, and he took that as encouragement to slide his hands lower, until they were resting just above the curve of Stiles' ass. Danny struggled for a moment, torn between moving his hands lower or sliding them under his boyfriend's shirt, but the temptation of bare skin won and he slipped his fingers under the fabric to press against the small of Stiles' back.

His skin felt wonderful under Danny's hands; warm, soft, smooth. At the first touch Stiles gasped against his lips, pulling back slightly to nip along his jaw before sealing their mouths back together and rocking against him. Danny may have been trying to behave himself, but he wasn't a fucking saint. Stiles was – holy shit – Stiles was rubbing up on him and Danny couldn't stop his hands from moving lower, his fingers burrowing under the waistband of Stiles' jeans, then his boxers. He couldn't get far, not nearly low enough, but the thought of where his hands were, where they could be drove him crazy.

Stiles was moaning around Danny's tongue when Danny's fingers brushed against the cleft of his cheeks – just at the very top where the skin met, but it was enough to make Stiles push down harder against him, fingers curling against Danny's abs where one digit caught in his navel.

The finger pulling against his skin sent a jolt through Danny, and he was left wondering how it would feel to have something there to tug on, the way Stiles did. And Jesus – Danny hadn't thought it would be possible to be even harder than he had been, but suddenly he was thinking of that shiny metal bar through Stiles' skin and he was.

Once he started thinking about it, he couldn't stop. He shouldn't have been surprised, not considering the way Stiles' piercing had been plaguing his thoughts since he'd noticed it, but he'd managed to not think about it for most of the night. He'd been struggling with it for days – wanting to see it, touch it, taste it – and fuck; now he could.

He'd barely processed that thought before he was rolling them both until Stiles was beneath him, eyes wide and breath ragged. Stiles' cheeks were flushed, his lips were red and swollen, and there was a faint sheen to his skin as if he was right on the verge of breaking into a sweat. He looked hot.

Danny groaned, dropping his head to Stiles' neck, worrying the skin with his teeth and tongue while he ground his hips firmly. He rested his weight on one arm, freeing the other to creep under the front of Stiles' shirt until his fingers dipped at Stiles' navel. When he found the barbell, warm from Stiles' skin, Danny ran his thumb along it and tugged gently as he sighed in satisfaction against Stiles' neck at the feel of metal between his fingers.

The tiny noises Stiles had been making since Danny started mouthing his neck stopped as he stilled abruptly, his whole body going rigid. Stiles' fingers disappeared from where they had been tracing the line of Danny's back, only to reappear at Danny's shoulders, but this time pushing him away.

That really hadn't been the response Danny had been hoping for. When he looked down at his new boyfriend, Stiles looked far less into what they were doing than he had earlier, instead he looked confused. "Stiles? What's wrong?"

Stiles' brow was furrowed; he had the same look on his face that Danny had seen several times in class, usually right when Stiles was about to make a connection that left their teacher either impressed or humiliated.

"How did you know about that?"

"About what?" Danny asked, uncertain. Stiles looked at him warily before gesturing between them. It took Danny a moment to realize what Stiles meant. "Oh, you mean…" Danny let his words drift, tapping against the jewelry that was still nudging his thumb. Stiles nodded, looking awkward, and Danny shrugged. "I saw it."

"You saw it? When?" Stiles asked, looking suspicious and shuffling backwards until he was out from under Danny.

"Last week. I—"

"Last w—oh," Stiles' face closed off until there was no hint as to what he was thinking. It was completely at odds with how he'd looked only minutes earlier. "And…you like it?"

Danny had the distinct impression that he was treading dangerous water, but he couldn't tell which direction led to safety. Stiles' expression was flat, but his tone held a thread of insecurity.

"Well, yeah," Danny answered as he cleared his throat and tried to smile reassuringly, "of course. It's…it's really hot."

"Of course. Right. That…actually makes a lot of sense." Stiles tone sounded hollow as he drew his legs up in front of him, resting his arms on bent knees. The movement looked almost casual, but the vibe it gave Danny was plainly defensive.

"What? Stiles—" It suddenly hit Danny what must be going through Stiles' mind, but before he could explain, Stiles cut him off.

"No. No, it's cool. I uh…I get it." His tone was nonchalant, but Danny wasn't buying it.

"I don't really think you do," Danny replied, curling his fingers around Stiles' palm. He was obviously thinking awful things, none of which were true.

"Look, I'm…I'm just going to—" Stiles tried to move away, tried to twist his hand out of Danny's and get off the bed, but Danny tightened his grip and pulled Stiles back gently towards him.

"Please don't...don't go. I don't want you to hurt your own feelings by jumping to conclusions. Just let me explain, okay?"

"What's to explain? It's kind of obvious that piercings are a thing for you, right? I mean, last week you were rolling your eyes at me and this week your tongue has been in my mouth."

Danny hesitated, but judging by the look Stiles was giving him, that just made things worse. "Yeah, I guess," he began cautiously, wary of Stiles' feelings but still needing to be honest. The wounded look Stiles shot him made him feel like the worst person in the world – Danny never wanted to be the reason Stiles face twisted like that, "but's not like you're thinking."

"Isn't it? You never even gave me a second glance until you saw it, then suddenly you're interested, and you know what? That's really – I mean, I get it, okay? It's a thing…a…a kink or whatever – but it's just…it's not cool for you to make me think you wanted more than just—"

"Stiles, listen to me, please." Stiles was working himself up, getting more upset, but Danny suspected that maybe he, himself, felt even worse than Stiles; the hurt in Stiles' eyes was making his stomach lurch. Stiles' hand was still in his grip, not fighting, but not encouraging, and Danny stroked his thumb along the skin, trying to make Stiles feel more at ease. "I don't…I would never do that. I wasn't trying to use you or anything, okay? I asked you out because I wanted to go on a date with you." When Stiles didn't react except to look away, picking at invisible lint on the bedspread with his free hand, Danny reached out and cupped his jaw, lightly coaxing Stiles to look back at him. "Look, piercings were never a thing for me before. I'll admit, they sort of are now – or at least yours is. I wasn't really into them until I saw yours."

Stiles swallowed awkwardly. His fingers were still moving absently on the bed while his eyes were flicking quickly back and forth between Danny's gaze and anything else he could focus on as a distraction. "I uh…I bet you say that to all the boys." It was only halfway to being a joke, Danny could tell, and Stiles looked sort of doubtful but maybe the tiniest bit hopeful, too. He needed to explain properly, he had to make sure Stiles understood.

"If it was just the piercing – seriously, Stiles, do you have any idea how many guys at Jungle have piercings? I wouldn't just manipulate you like that. I've seen a ton of guys with piercings but you are the first guy whose body jewelry made me kind of crazy, okay? But that's honestly not all this is, I swear."

"Really?" Stiles seemed mostly reassured, or at least he wasn't as ready to bolt as he had been moments earlier. He was holding eye contact more steadily, and even though he was still a little fidgety, he was clearly more relaxed.

This was probably a make or break moment, Danny thought. Stiles had been really close to walking out and Danny didn't think he'd get another chance if he fucked it up. "Really. I liked you before that, you know? You're a great guy. You're funny, sweet, and really, really smart. You've got all this energy which is kind of contagious and you're dorky, but it's a good kind of dorky. I just...never saw that other side of you."

"What side?"

"The confident, sexy side," he clarified, feeling a bit silly actually saying it out loud. He knew it probably sounded like a line, but it was the truth and Danny thought maybe Stiles needed to hear it. "But now that I've realized it's there, I don't know how I missed it before. Honestly, your piercing made me look at you differently, but it didn't make me like you. I already liked you. And you know what? It might have taken me ages to see how hot you are, but I always thought you were kind of adorable."

"Adorable, huh?" Stiles was grinning – yeah, definitely adorable– and Danny felt the tension melting away. Stiles was joking again, in a non-self-effacing way, and that was a good sign. Stiles' hand was still in Danny's, but instead of just resting there while Danny held on, Stiles' fingers twisted into his promisingly. Danny leaned in, ready to answer with a kiss when Stiles added, "I can work with that. And good on you for seeing what a fox I am. Better late than never, dude."

"Well, I have to admit, I'm developing a really soft spot for the cute side, too."

"That's lucky. I mean, I can't be a sex god all the time, otherwise no one else would ever be able to compete with my awesomeness, and you know I believe in fair play. Equal opportunity and all that."

Danny chuckled and dropped a light kiss on Stiles' jawline. "Probably for the best. I don't think I'd survive, otherwise."

Stiles looked pleased, if a little embarrassed. There was the slightest blush beginning to steal across his cheeks, but before Danny could say or do something to try and coax it into spreading, Stiles pulled his expression into something a little more mischievous and nudged Danny. "So…you like my piercing, huh?"

The question was just as loaded this time as it had been earlier, but with something altogether different. It was playful, but judging from the quirk of Stiles' lip and the way his voice had gone sort of breathy, it was more than that.

"Yeah." Under other circumstances, Danny would've likely been self-conscious of how throaty he sounded, but Stiles had just pulled his shirt off, exposing smooth pale skin, lean definition and a tiny glint of steel. Danny wondered if he should take his shirt off, too, but Stiles' fingers were toying with the metal at his navel and Danny couldn't make himself do anything but watch. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew, objectively, that this shouldn't turn him on so much; that most people wouldn't react as strongly as he was. The rest of his brain apparently didn't understand that, because he was rock hard and his heart was racing. He tried to lick his lips, but his mouth had gone dry and it occurred to him that he'd seen highly rated, hardcore porn that was less appealing than this.

"I like it, too. I mean, obviously, otherwise I wouldn't have gotten it." Stiles stopped playing with the jewelry and reached out to tug Danny's hand towards it. "Do you want to…?"

Danny tried to say yes, fuck, please but all he managed was a strangled noise, vaguely positive sounding. Stiles must have gotten the message because he shuffled backwards, pulling Danny to follow until Stiles was lying on the bed while Danny hovered above him, an elbow nestled beside Stiles' midsection and his stomach settled between Stiles' thighs. His other arm was draped carefully along Stiles' side as his index finger trailed small circles around and over the barbell. Danny could feel the gentle rise and fall of Stiles' torso as he breathed, and he focused on that steady movement to calm himself down. Once he was more relaxed, he felt curiosity creeping over him.

"What made you decide to actually do it? Because I thought about getting my ear pierced a few months ago, I went to a place and everything, but I sort of chickened out last minute and I figured if I still wanted one I could get it in college. Plus my parents would have killed me."

"Yeah…Dad doesn't know. Otherwise he'd definitely kill me…right after finding out where I got pierced so he could arrest the guy who did it." Stiles grinned at him and Danny found himself grinning back, amused. "I totally don't regret it, though. But uh…I don't really know how to explain what made me do it." Stiles went silent for a moment; he looked thoughtful and perhaps a little uncertain as well. Danny didn't want him to feel pressured for an answer, so he stopped staring and did something he'd wanted to do for days; he leaned down and kissed the piercing, darting his tongue out quickly to swipe across it. Stiles gasped and arched his back, not dramatically – just an inch and only for a split second – but it was enough of a reaction to send a jolt of electricity straight to Danny's dick. He moaned and shifted, sliding his body lower until he was comfortable and his mouth hovered just above Stiles' belly. His cock was hard, aching, and the friction from his jeans and the mattress was both a blessing and a curse. He could feel the firm flesh of Stiles' erection through the layers of clothing between them, rubbing along Danny's chest with every movement.

Encouraged, Danny sealed his lips around the piercing, licking and suckling on it. The barbell was smooth and warm, it felt foreign against Danny's tongue, but he loved it. Stiles' skin tasted vaguely salty from sweat yet somehow perfect, and Danny spent several minutes mouthing at the saliva-slick area while Stiles writhed under him. Stiles' breathing had become uneven, shallow, and he was mewling softly. One of his hands had moved to Danny's neck, squeezing and cupping, begging silently, while the hips Danny was resting on stuttered against him.

Stiles was so responsive, so fucking sexy beneath him. Danny bit down carefully on his navel and Stiles groaned, sounding completely wrecked. Danny was so focused on the way Stiles was moving under him and how the tiny piece of jewelry sounded when it clacked gently against his teeth that he was startled when Stiles began to talk.

"I, uh…I think piercings are awesome. I have for ages, and I…mmm…I liked the idea of getting one for a long time, but…oh…they still scared the crap out of me, y-you know?" After a moment Danny realized that Stiles was answering his earlier question, and he hummed his agreement, tugging the metal with his teeth. "Fuck," Stiles swore, though the way he rolled his hips and tightened his hand on Danny's neck showed it felt good. Danny grinned but took pity on him and released the barbell, twisting a little to focus on a lonely looking mole near Stiles' side, just above his jeans. The fingers on Danny's neck dug deep on the first touch of his mouth to the sensitive area, but after a moment Stiles relaxed and loosened his grip. "I didn't think I'd ever actually do it, but I guess then a bunch of crazy stuff happened and…and I just realized there's a lot of – fuck, that tickles – there's a lot of stuff out there way scarier than getting pierced. So…so I just decided to do it because life's too short."

There was something in Stiles' tone that Danny recognized from talking with Jackson. Danny pulled away from Stiles' skin to look him in the eye. He wasn't an idiot – he didn't know much, but he knew something had been going on for months and no one was talking about it. Whatever it was had changed a lot of things for a lot of people, and even though Danny hated being on the outside, he suspected he was better off there. " that night at the school? Jackson said it was really fucked up."

"Yeah. Yeah, it was. Life and death, you know? There was other stuff, too. People getting attacked, dying." Stiles didn't seem inclined to give any details, and Danny didn't ask, he just nodded in understanding. He and Jackson had had enough peripheral conversations for Danny to know that pushing for information didn't go well. If either Jackson or Stiles wanted to tell him, they would. "Anyway, it seemed stupid to be scared of a needle after that. And I don't know, I guess I just wanted to do something."

"Seize the day?" Danny grinned and dropped back down to his elbows. The patch of skin he'd been sucking on had purpled into a fairly impressive hickey. He hadn't meant to do that, but Stiles didn't seem to mind. Still, Danny figured he'd abandoned Stiles' piercing for long enough, so he moved away from the hickey and pressed his mouth, open and wet, over the metal and surrounding skin.

"Ahhh…p-pretty much. I had to drive three towns over in case someone recognized me and called Dad." Stiles sounded strained. Danny was alternating between dipping his tongue in and out of the hollow of Stiles' navel and twisting it under and around the jewelry adorning it. He dragged his teeth carefully along the skin holding the barbell in place and Stiles groaned, jackknifing his hips against Danny's chest. The sudden movement brought Danny back to himself and he realized he'd been pushing himself into the mattress, rocking against it subconsciously.

He stilled his hips and pulled away, sitting back on his haunches and taking a few long, deep breaths to steady himself. He forced his eyes away from Stiles' torso and up to his face, which may have been a mistake, because Stiles looked just as far gone as Danny felt. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated, and his lower lip was marked from his own teeth. Stiles' breathing was rough, and he was just so—

"Gorgeous," Danny breathed. Stiles blushed and glanced away, embarrassed, but it wasn't long before he was grinning and looking Danny over.

"You should uh…you're overdressed."

Danny didn't know how to answer, so he just nodded as his hand moved to his top button. It was already open; Danny didn't know if one of them had undone it or if the button had come off completely, and he couldn't care less. He fumbled with the second one before finally popping it open but Stiles must have lost patience because he sat up, pulling Danny's hands away and hoisting the mostly buttoned shirt up and over Danny's head. Danny watched as Stiles trailed his gaze up and down Danny's chest, slowly. He felt a little self-conscious, but it was overpowered by the heat spreading through his body. Stiles obviously liked what he saw – his eyes had widened, his hand was hovering between them like he wanted to touch, and he was licking his lips – so Danny inched forward until Stiles' hand was following the path his eyes had taken.

Stiles' fingers felt amazing on his skin, a little callused but also warm and perfect, drawing lines that were sometimes tickling and sometimes electric. Danny tried to hold back, Stiles had given him a chance to explore so it was only fair he give the same, but when Stiles rolled a nipple under his thumb, catching it with his nail, Danny couldn't. He hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Stiles' jeans, yanking him in close until their chests and lips were pressed together, Stiles leaning against Danny with his hand still trapped between them.

It wasn't long before Stiles was shifting his hips forward, straddling Danny's knees and wrapping his arms around Danny's neck. They were slotted together tightly, from where their mouths met all the way down to their groins. Danny could feel the heat of Stiles' thighs against his hipbones and he craved more friction, so he slid his arms around Stiles and cupped his hands under the curve of Stiles' ass, using his strength to hold Stiles against him, rubbing their cocks together through their jeans.

"Shit. Wait…wait," Stiles pulled out of the kiss, gasping even as Danny leaned forward trying to chase his lips. "Wait."

Chapter Text

Danny's mind felt sluggish and dazed from arousal; he blinked forcefully and shook his head to clear it. "What…too much? Do you want to—"

"No, no!" Danny had let go of Stiles so they could put some space in between them, but Stiles was having none of it. "No. Just let me…" He shifted, popping the button on his waistband and undoing his fly, then pushed the denim lower on his hips. Danny couldn't draw his eyes away; Stiles was wearing loose cotton boxers, tented out from his jutting erection. There was a small damp spot where Stiles had been leaking pre-come and Danny felt his own dick twitch at the sight. After a flicker of hesitation, Stiles sat back, pulling his jeans off completely before dropping them on the floor. He raised himself onto his knees, facing Danny again, then moved his fingers to Danny's waistband and paused. "Is this okay?"

It was more than okay. Danny nodded, inching forward to catch Stiles' mouth again. He could feel Stiles' hands moving right by his cock but not actually touching and it was so close to torture – but then the constriction of the thick fabric against his crotch was finally gone and he breathed a sigh of relief. Stiles was rucking Danny's jeans over his hips until they were far enough down that they were out of the way, not off completely, but bunched under Danny's hips, caught where his thighs rested on his calves.

Without breaking the kiss, Stiles was clambering onto Danny, straddling him again, but this time without two layers of denim between them. Stiles repositioned his arms as they had been earlier and Danny took the hint, pulling Stiles against him once more, hands hauling Stiles by the ass while Stiles ground his hips forward. And God, if it had felt good before, it felt incredible now.

Stiles was a fast learner, the way he was rutting against Danny was fucking perfect, his dick was sliding roughly along Danny's with just two thin layers between them, firm and fast but so, so good. Danny was beginning to suspect Stiles had an oral fixation, because the way he was sucking on Danny's tongue and lips, the way he was licking along Danny's teeth and the roof of his mouth, was hungry and determined. And okay, maybe Danny had noticed that about Stiles in the past – it was difficult not to when he so often had something in his mouth – but he'd very deliberately not thought about it before.

He was definitely thinking about it now.

The kisses were hot and wet, sloppy but in the best way. Danny felt almost filthy with them, they were so open and deep, and if he had any ability to think at that point, he'd probably wonder how he'd ever thought Stiles wasn't sexy. Because Jesus fucking Christ.

He had no idea how long they'd been like that, devouring each other's mouths, thrusting against each other. To be honest, he didn't care. Stiles felt too good, too hot against him to worry about something as unimportant as time. Danny wanted to keep going until they were both spent but his legs were numb, and his arms were screaming from helping to support Stiles.

Danny wrapped his arms snugly around his boyfriend and maneuvered them both until Stiles was flat on his back while Danny pressed him firmly into the mattress. Danny had much better leverage like that, and judging from the way Stile had hooked his legs tightly around Danny's thighs, he wasn't the only one who liked it.

"That's…oh God…that feels…fuck," Stiles' voice was cracked and broken; Danny could tell he was close. He wanted to make Stiles come, wanted to see him fall apart from it, but Danny's fingers had taken it upon themselves to move, to start tugging on the metal at Stiles' navel once more, and the instant Danny became aware of it, oh, he needed his mouth on that piercing when Stiles came.

After another slow, deep exploration of Stiles' mouth Danny began to move, kissing, biting and licking his way down Stiles' jaw, his neck, his chest, loving the way Stiles was fisting the covers in reaction. He mouthed at Stiles' nipples, sucking and nibbling each one before laving them with the flat of his tongue and continuing his journey. Stiles was mumbling something by the time Danny reached his destination, turning his head into his own shoulder to muffle the noise. Danny had no idea what Stiles was saying, or even if it made sense, but he wanted to hear it.

"Louder. Don't…don't be embarrassed."

Stiles groaned. "I'm not…it's not…s'nothing. Not words."

Danny smirked and locked eyes with Stiles, very slowly and deliberately extending his tongue until it barely dragged across the layer of skin holding the jewelry in place. Stiles' eyes widened and he swallowed loudly. Danny wanted to hear Stiles' voice, wanted to hear him struggling to articulate because of Danny and what he was doing to him. "You should talk."

"That's…that's a first," Stiles joked, and Danny's mouth curled into a grin. "Wh-what about?"


"Ohh…I…okay," Stiles licked his lips and Danny settled back in place, gently suckling on the barbell, "uh – my piercing…I…when I got it—oh holy fuck," Stiles choked as Danny pressed a hand to his cock, squeezing it through Stiles' boxers while he tongued at the piercing obscenely. Stiles started rocking into his hand and Danny moaned around the skin and metal in his mouth, while Stiles gasped hotly and struggled to keep talking, "I…I had to use a fake ID. But…nngh…I'm really g-glad that I did it. It uh…hurt and took ages to heal," he admitted, breathlessly. Stiles squirmed as Danny pulled on the piercing with his teeth, then continued, somehow managing to sound insecure even around his fight to get the words out, "but I love my piercings. Also, theyyyGod…th-they sort of make me feel sexy."

"They?" Danny drew back for a moment, trying to judge if Stiles misspoke, but no. He looked self-conscious, but not as though Danny had misunderstood.

"I uh…yeah. I have another one."

"Jesus, Stiles. You're going to be the death of me," Danny groaned, dropping his head to Stiles' stomach. The muscle beneath his forehead started to jerk, and Danny glanced back up to see Stiles was quietly laughing.

His eyes sparkled with mischief, and Danny was struck once again by how easily Stiles could flit between awkward and flirtatious. It was strangely addicting to see. Stiles' mouth quirked into a half smile and he answered, playfully. "And you don't even know where it is, yet."

Danny's eyes widened as he ran them up and down Stiles' body uselessly. It was a mindless reaction, because he knew there was no way – no way in hell – that Stiles could have another piercing that Danny just didn't notice. Unless – the thought knocked the air right out of him – unless it was somewhere Danny hadn't seen yet. Fuck.


"Yeah. It's…yeah." Danny hadn't managed to form the words to ask, but apparently his question was clear, because Stiles answered and glanced at the tent in his own boxers and holy Jesus. Danny whined, actually whined like a desperate animal, and maybe that's all he was because he just couldn't think beyond tearing the fabric away from Stiles' hips and using his hands and his mouth. God, he was drooling just thinking about it. He must have lowered his head because his nose was barely an inch from the tip of Stiles' dick where it pushed against the cotton and Danny could just about make out the shape of—

It hit him, suddenly, that his fingers were aching. He'd been digging them into Stiles' hips, he realized. It had to hurt, but Stiles hadn't said a word, he was just staring heavy lidded at Danny and sucking hard on his bottom lip. Danny eased his grip, knowing he'd probably left bruises. He wasn't sure if that left him feeling guilty or more turned on, so he simply ran his palms over the sore areas in a brief apology then slid his thumbs into the waistband of Stiles' underwear.

He looked up at Stiles and asked silently – because words were too damn complicated – for permission. Stiles nodded quickly, then twisted his fingers deeper into the bed covers and lifted his hips a little, giving Danny the opportunity he'd been looking for. He took it, tugging Stiles' boxers down over his hips and off, flinging them somewhere carelessly as he sat back and stared down at Stiles.

Even without the metal drawing Danny's eyes, he would have found Stiles' erection appealing. It was fully hard, straining towards Stiles' stomach, reddened with arousal and framed by neatly trimmed hair. The vein on the underside was pronounced, raised along the length and tempting Danny to follow it with his tongue from the base to where it gradually disappeared further up near the head.

He swallowed thickly, wondering how Stiles would react if he did exactly that, and promising himself he would find out.

The head of Stiles' cock was flushed darker than the rest, peeking out nearly completely from his foreskin and leaking heavily. The clear droplets collected along the metal ring obscenely where it protruded from the tip and curved under, then ran along the skin to once again meet the ring where it disappeared into the spongy head. The jewelry was plain, except for a small steel ball that sat just outside Stiles' slit, drowning in a tiny pool of pre-come.

Danny palmed his own cock through his boxer-briefs – only for a second and only because he honestly couldn't help himself. Just looking at Stiles was making him ache and throb, and judging from the damp patch under his hand, he was leaking just as much as his boyfriend was. He could feel Stiles' eyes on him and squeezed himself firmly, trying to choke down some of the heat rising under his skin. Stiles let out a broken noise, and before Danny could react Stiles was stroking himself, twisting his wrist as he pumped and – fuck fuck fuck – flicking his thumb against the ring when he reached it. Every time he touched the piercing Stiles whimpered and Danny needed to be the one doing that to him; needed to be the one making him desperate.

He dropped his upper body back down to the bed, shuffling until his elbows bracketed Stiles' hips and his face was only inches from where Stiles was touching himself. Danny wrapped his fingers around Stiles' wrist to stop him.

"Let me," he pled with difficulty, throat dry even as his mouth was watering like crazy. Stiles nodded eagerly. It looked to Danny like he struggled to pull his hand away, but he did, slowly and heavily, dragging his fingers up his abdomen to play with his navel ring. Danny groaned, watching for a moment until Stiles squirmed and he remembered what he'd just been granted permission for.

Not that he'd forgotten, exactly.

Stiles' dick was even more enticing up close and Danny leaned in to lick a stripe along the ridged vein like he'd wanted to earlier. Stiles gasped and tried to buck but Danny's biceps were resting across his thighs, so all he really managed to do was shift up slightly. The head of his cock brushed across Danny's mouth, the ring catching gently on Danny's tongue and then they were both groaning; Stiles pressing his head back into the bed while Danny began grinding against the mattress.

Danny had barely even gotten his mouth on Stiles and he was already on the edge. His skin was hot and he could feel himself getting closer and closer. They'd been fooling around for too long, Stiles' piercings were too fucking sexy, and Jesus, Danny could taste Stiles on his lips. There was no way he was going to last, but he didn't think Stiles would either. It didn't matter how quick it was going to be, Danny definitely wanted to make the most of it.

He shifted his weight to one elbow, using his free hand to cup Stiles' balls. They fit well in his hand, warm and heavy, and when he rolled them they twitched and Stiles' thighs and abs clenched. Danny would have to spend more time paying attention to them one day; they were obviously sensitive, but he and Stiles were both too far gone for him to take his time, and Danny wasn't going to lose any more precious moments that could be better spent acquainting his tongue with the piercing at the head of Stiles' dick.

In one swift movement, Danny fisted his hand around Stiles' shaft and swirled his tongue around the head before dipping it wetly into the metal ring and capturing the pre-come that had gathered.


Danny didn't try to hold back, didn't think he could even if he'd wanted to, not with how frantic Stiles sounded. Instead, he wrapped his lips around the first few inches of Stiles' cock and began pumping his fist. He could take Stiles deeper, he knew he could, but the drag of the ring up and down the length of his tongue was too hot, it made Danny burn and shiver all at once, and he wanted to savor it.

When he began twisting his wrist the way Stiles had his boyfriend cried out loudly, sending sparks of need along Danny's skin. He groaned around the flesh in his mouth and Stiles began babbling, thrusting his hips, or trying to, as Danny worked them both, mouth and hand pulling Stiles closer to the edge while he rutted hard against the mattress. Fuck, he was getting so close, he was going to come in his underwear without even fucking touching himself and that shouldn't have sent a fizzle down his spine, but it did.

"Danny…fuck, Danny."

It sounded like a warning; Stiles' dick felt hotter, fuller, and his muscles were tensing. Danny wanted to taste everything, not just the salty bitterness of Stiles' come but also the metallic not-taste of the jewelry. He pulled back until just the head remained in his mouth; he was still fucking down against the bed, he was almost there, almost, but he needed that taste, didn't want to come without it. He hummed loudly around Stiles, pumped harder and faster, fluttered his tongue back and forth across the ring connected to Stiles' cock until he heard a long, drawn out moan and Stiles' come flooded his mouth.

Danny swallowed; kept swallowing as Stiles jerked and spurted. His own cock was twitching, he could feel his balls drawing up and he tongued desperately at the metal ring. Stiles whined as his dick pulsed one last time into Danny's mouth and Danny stiffened at the noise, heat shooting through him. He came hard – violently – soaking the fabric of his boxer-briefs as he rocked his hips gracelessly though it then collapsed, boneless, with his head pillowed on Stiles' lower stomach.

Stiles was trembling beneath him, slick with sweat and breathing hard. Danny wanted to look at him, wanted to see what he looked like in the afterglow, but he was too wrecked to do more than glance up. He couldn't see past the smooth skin of Stiles' torso and the barbell at his navel, so he just relaxed and let himself enjoy it. He could look as much as he wanted next time.

"Wow." Stiles' voice cracked, making Danny smile. Fingers began carding through his hair, and Danny would wonder how Stiles could find the energy to even move, but it was Stiles.

He nuzzled into the soft skin under his cheek and pressed a kiss there.

Wow was pretty accurate.

Chapter Text

Danny was just sliding his Chem textbook out of his locker when someone – Jackson, judging by his cologne – sidled up next to him.

"So, looks like someone had a good weekend." Jackson's tone was light but probing, and Danny shrugged. He had no idea how, but Jackson could always tell these things.

"It was okay," he answered, dismissively. He might have gotten away with it with anyone else, but Jackson knew him far too well.

"Seriously, Danny? Who do you think you're talking to?"

"How the fuck do you always know, anyway?" Danny countered.

Jackson grinned. "You have this dumb smile on your face. It's the one you always get when you're lovestruck or when you just got laid."

"Shut up. You do not know what I look like after I get laid."

"So?" Jackson prodded, folding his arms and leaning against the lockers with a smirk. "Which is it?"

Danny huffed and shut his locker, refusing to answer.

"Ooh," Jackson teased – because even though he was Danny's friend, he was still a douchebag, "both, huh?"

"You are such an asshole."

"And you're my best friend. What does that say about you?"

"That I'm a great humanitarian?" Danny quipped, and Jackson laughed.

"Well? Where did you meet this guy? Is he good enough for you? When do I get to judge him? And most importantly, is he a tenth as hot as I am?"

If he didn't answer, Jackson would just draw it out of him eventually. He somehow always did, so Danny just rolled his eyes and deadpanned. "School. Definitely. You already have." He leaned in and looked Jackson square in the eye. "And hotter."

"Liar," Jackson scoffed.

Danny pulled back and shrugged with a tiny smile, because he wasn't lying. Jackson might not agree with him – he had an ego the size of the entire town, after all – but it was Danny's opinion that counted.

"Geez, you actually believe that. If you weren't blinded from what I can only assume must have been some really hot action, I'd be offended."

He murmured an agreement, only half listening, because Stiles was walking down the hall, chatting and laughing with McCall. He was gesturing wildly and when he looked up, meeting Danny's eyes, his face brightened even more and he smiled happily. Danny grinned in response, turning his head to hold Stiles' gaze as he passed. Stiles had twisted his whole body as he and McCall continued walking, shuffling backwards so he could keep looking at Danny. After a second he tripped on his own feet, flailing briefly before he caught his balance. Danny chuckled and shook his head fondly as Stiles sent him a half wave and an embarrassed look.

Adorable, he mouthed. Stiles blushed before grinning and turning away to head to class with McCall.

"You have got to be kidding. Stilinski?"

Danny sighed. He knew Jackson and Stiles didn't really get along, but for reasons that he still didn't know, they did spend a fair bit of time together. Danny had hoped that would be enough to stop Jackson from being a jerk.

"Jackson, seriously. He's…we're…just don't. I really like him, and I don't want to hear it, okay?"

"He is not hotter than me."

When Jackson didn't say anything more, Danny frowned, unsure of what to think. "Is that it? You aren't going to be a total asshole about him like the other guys I've dated?"

Jackson looked calculating, but after a moment he shrugged. "He's kind of a loser, but at least he'll never do anything to hurt you," he admitted, begrudgingly. "You're way too good for him, and he is not hotter than me, but if you're happy..."

"I am," Danny interjected, because this was Jackson, and that was probably the best he could hope for.

"Fine, then. I'll keep my mouth shut about Stilinski's many shortcomings. Just do me one favor."

"Let me guess," Danny grinned, "never give you details about the really hot action?"

Jackson grimaced then glared at Danny. "Okay, two favors."

"That depends. What's the second one?"

"If he's going to be hanging around us more, can you at least try to stop him from dressing like an eight year old with his first skateboard? Please?"