A/N: When I got to the 1x09, seeing how Danny looked at Derek, and the fact that Matt has dark hair and blue eyes exactly like Derek, made me think that perhaps someone like Derek is exactly Danny's type. Plus, there's something about the idea of them together that really fascinates me. There aren't a lot of Derek/Danny stories out there so I decided to start writing my own. Let me know what you think!
I see the bad moon arising.
I see trouble on the way.
I see earthquakes and lightnin'.
I see bad times today.
It wasn't Danny's fault if his eyes lingered on Stiles' cousin's back longer than it could have been considered casual or decent. The guy was tall, looked about his height, and had a body that could rival models'. He was easily the hottest guy Danny had ever seen, just as hot as Jackson (because even if Jackson wasn't his type, Danny still had eyes). When he noticed that Stiles caught him staring, he quickly diverted his eyes.
It took him a moment to realize that Stiles was still speaking and when he did, all he was able to utter was a dumb, "huh?"
Stiles nodded towards Miguel. "This shirt?"
Danny used that as an excuse to take another look at the man standing a few feet away, then he whispered to Stiles, "It's... it's not really his color." And he was surprised to see Miguel actual listening to him and shred it off. Danny willed himself to not glance back at him.
When Miguel still had to find a t-shirt that fitted, and Danny doubted he was going to succeed, he decided to help Stiles and get out of there as quickly as he could before something really embarrassing could happen.
After practice, Danny was the last one to walk into the showers and not because he feared the other guys wouldn't be okay with him showering with them (Danny had long since figured out that if being gay was anyone's problem, then it certainly wasn't his), but just because he took longer to get undressed and loved long showers.
Scott, Stiles and Jackson had skipped practice and Danny was really starting to feel like he was missing something. Jackson kept acting as if he had some big secret and looked scared to death half of the time, Danny didn't recognize him anymore most of the time so he wasn't surprised to see him skipping practice.
Thinking about Stiles made him remember Miguel, not that the man had been far away from his thoughts lately, he was exactly Danny's type and he often caught himself distracted during classes, his mind fantasizing about him.
It took him about an hour before he was showered, dried and dressed and by that time the school's parking lot was almost completely empty and the sun was setting quickly. He put on his headphones, adjusted his lacrosse's bag over his shoulder and headed towards his car.
He was halfway through the parking lot when something collided into him sending him sprawling on the concrete. He hit his head and his iPod went flying. "Damn," he swore and blinked furiously trying to understand what had happened.
When the fuzziness cleared from his sight, he was able to focus on the face standing a mere inch from his own and then he became aware of the body lying on top of him. He wondered for a moment if he had hit his head hard enough to hallucinate.
"Hey," he greeted and Miguel's brow furrowed, actually, Danny was pretty sure that that was the man's standard face setting.
Derek looked down in the dark eyes of the boy lying underneath him and before he could tell himself to get up, his nose caught an enticing scent. He sniffed Danny without being able to resist.
"It's Armani." Danny supplied, thinking that lately it was almost a normal occurrence to find himself knocked down thanks to Scott.
Derek frowned. "What?"
"My aftershave." He let a smile tag at his lips and wondered when he was going to be let up, not that he particularly minded having the man lying on top of him.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing?"
Stiles' voice rang loudly across the parking lot and Danny hated him a little bit more.
"Let him go! You can't attack Danny!"
Derek kept hold of Danny's gaze and effortlessly shrugged off Stiles' hands from his shoulders.
"Derek!" Stiles shouted.
Danny frowned. "I thought your name was Miguel?"
Derek rolled his eyes and finally got to his feet, his hands pulling up Danny before the latter could even think of getting up.
"We really don't have time for this, now," Stiles intercepted.
Danny looked between Stiles and Mig-Derek, his frown deepened. The more he thought about it, the more the whole cousins thing seemed absurd and not just because of the fake name, and what was that all about anyway?
"You're not really related, are you?" he finally asked. "No, of course not. I mean..." his eyes blatantly swept over Derek's body and he found himself staring like it had happened in Stiles' room. When his gaze finally reached the other man's face, he found clear blue eyes staring back with confusion.
Stiles dropped his arm over Derek's shoulder and looked at Danny. The fact that he had been looking like he had someplace where he was supposed to be, completely forgotten. Danny knew that it only took the smallest of thing to get Stiles' attention wavering.
"So you think that I'm not hot enough to be related to him? Does this mean you don't find me attractive, then?"
Derek growled and pushed away Stiles hard enough to make him stumble. "Don't touch me."
Stiles held up his hands and straightened his shirt and then glanced briefly between Danny and Derek, wondering what the staring was all about. He wasn't sure if Derek looked ready to kill or to just jump Danny. He cleared his throat to catch the boys' attention. "We have to go do that... that thing," he said slowly, his eyes now focused solely on Derek.
Danny furrowed his brow and wondered, not for the first time, why everyone seemed to be so strange lately.
"Huh, Derek?"
Derek finally blinked and then looked at Stiles. "Get a move," he barked at him and then turned around without a parting word to Danny.
Stiles smiled. "You have to excuse his poor manners."
"Who is he really?" Danny asked, while he bent down to retrieve his fallen Lacrosse gear. He looked around for his iPod but couldn't see it, he was pretty sure that it would be broken anyway. He sighed heavily mentally calculating whether he had enough savings to replace it.
"He's..."
"STILES!" Derek's voice interrupted him.
"I have to go. He's not easy to be around when he's in a good mood and if I..." Stiles trailed off and rolled his eyes. "Who am I kidding? He's never in a good mood. Seeya Danny." He waved his hand and jogged in Derek's direction.
Danny shook his head. He had no idea why Stiles had started talking to him lately and he wondered when things would go back to normal. He picked up his bag and threw one glance behind him and found Derek staring at him from over his shoulder while he kept on running. Being under that intense gaze, made Danny shiver.
Stiles drummed on the steering wheel with his fingers, his eyes darting between Derek and the entrance to the hospital.
"So," he began, his eyes resting on Derek's profile. He wondered if werewolves got wrinkles because if they did, Derek would soon have to start using something for his permanent scowl. "Danny is nice, huh?"
He was waiting to hear Derek yelling at him to shout up, but what he got instead was, "Miguel? Of all the stupid names and stupid lies you could come up with, I'm your cousin Miguel?"
"Is this because I embarrassed you in front of Danny?" Stiles smirked, completely forgetting the fact that they were on a mission. "Anyway, I couldn't exactly tell him that you were Derek Hale the killer the whole state is looking for."
Derek bared his teeth. "I hate you."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "There you go. One thing you have in common with Danny boy." He got his phone out to call Scott but he felt a hand in his hair and next thing he knew, his head was connecting with the steering wheel. "What the..." he reeled back. "Oh, God what the hell was that for?"
Derek pointed a finger at him. "You know exactly what that was for."
