Isaac has a lot of scars.

The thought occurs to Danny one night when he and Isaac are stretched out on the couch in Danny's living room, watching another one of the Disney movies Isaac was apparently deprived of in his childhood.

Technically, it was Kalea's idea. Danny was babysitting while his parents went out to celebrate their anniversary at their usual restaurant, complete with one-night stay at the hotel where they were married, and he and Kalea were all set for their annual Balto viewing party – it's Kalea's favorite Disney movie; Danny's is The Lion King, but he's kind of a pushover – when he heard a knock on the door. At the time, he was expecting the pizza guy.

So, imagine his surprise when he opened the door to see none other than Isaac Lahey standing there on his doorway.

Isaac, being his usual adorable, awkward, teensy bit over-considerate self, had taken one look between Danny, Kalea, and the television and started to excuse himself. Danny was about to tell him to wait a second, so he could ask Kalea if maybe she wouldn't mind him bringing a plus one to their little party, but before he could get a word out, Kalea brushed past Danny in the doorway, grabbed one of Isaac's too-long sleeves, and pulled him inside.

"The more the merrier," she'd announced loudly, and then proceeded to explain the evening's agenda with all the pomp and circumstance of someone announcing a freaking ball. He thought she was going to have some sort of conniption fit when she found out that Isaac hadn't seen Balto, and Danny just shot him an apologetic look when she dragged him over to the couch and literally forced him to sit down.

Clearly, she was okay with Isaac joining them.

The pizza came a few minutes later and was gone a little while after that. Isaac has this annoying habit, Danny's realized, of waiting until everyone's finished and the pizza's gone cold, to actually ask if he can finish off the pizza, so when Danny went to get seconds, he got what he wanted, checked with Kalea to make sure she'd had her fill, and promptly dropped the rest of the damn box in Isaac's lap. He's also got this annoying habit of being able to eat half a pizza, a quarter of a family-sized bag of potato chips, and chug the better part of a 2-liter and still have abs mere mortals like Danny actually have to work out for.

Kalea got a kick out of it, though. Between Isaac and Kekipu – who, by the way, has apparently decided Isaac is his new best friend, and the feeling seems mutual – Danny couldn't tell who she enjoyed sneaking food to more. He slipped out to the bathroom for what he swears was no more than two seconds, and when he came back, Isaac was plowing his way through a package of cookies that probably went stale, like, a month ago, and Kalea was sitting in her chair looking like Mother Theresa feeding the poor.

Danny just smiled. That's my girl.

She fell asleep halfway through the movie. Balto had just left Nome – and wow, he's seen this movie way too many times – when Isaac nudged him with his shoulder and pointed over to the other side of the room. Danny looked to see his little sister sprawled out in a boneless heap in the chair, head lolled back over the arm, dead asleep.

He actually debated leaving her there for a little while. Not just because he had found this really comfortable spot, leaning back against Isaac in the corner of the couch, but because she just looked so peaceful.

She also looked about a half hour away from permanent spinal misalignment or something, though, too, so with a sigh, he forces himself to leave what he has decided is the world's most comfortable couch – or maybe just the world's most comfortable boyfriend – and go cart his sister off to bed. Because no, there is no way on God's green earth he's going to be able to wake her up and make her go to bed on her own power. He has learned this. The hard way. There was much mumbling, and blows were exchanged.

He also couldn't really leave here there until morning. His dad the chiropractor would take one look at her and stroke out on the spot, and since Danny kind of likes his nuclear family just how it is, he thinks he'll pass.

On the other hand, he realized when he made it over to her that there might be a flaw to his plan. Kalea hit a growth spurt since the last time they did this – she's got the long, gawky Mahealani limbs that Danny remembers all too well from his own awkward pre-teen days – and it occurred to him with a sad sort of pang in his chest that she's getting a little too big for this.

Not yet, though. Not tonight. And he was just about to scoop her up out of the chair and tuck her in and all that lovey, mushy stuff that he can really only get away with when she's sick or unconscious, but Isaac stopped him with a hand on his hip, and when he turned around, Isaac just nodded towards his elbow.

They'd played a pick-me-up game yesterday, him and the gang and a few guys from the team, and Danny had gotten a little ahead of himself blocking the goal and kind of sort of nailed his elbow on the goal. He said he was fine, but Isaac wouldn't be satisfied until he'd driven Danny home and wrapped it up himself. Which, okay, was sort of cute, in an overprotective, 'can't be good for his blood pressure' kind of way.

He's been good about it tonight, though. At least, Danny can tell he's been trying to be, and he appreciates that. So, when Isaac suggested in that soft, unassuming way of his that maybe he could carry her, if Danny would just show him where to go – even though Danny's pretty sure Isaac knows where everything in his house is – Danny agreed. Not because his elbow hurt, thankyouverymuch, but because Isaac was trying to help, and Danny isn't an asshole.

Besides, if he thought Isaac was cute after the game, then seeing the way he lifts and carries Kalea like she's something precious made of glass was pretty much the most diabetes-inducingly sweet thing Danny thinks he's ever seen. He was just so…careful with her. Which was kind of amazing, considering just yesterday, Danny had seen that very same guy knock the two-hundred-and-something pounds of testosterone and over-compensation that is Greenburg flat on his ass with barely so much as a running start.

He stood at the door while Danny tucked his little sister in, and didn't even say anything about how much of a sap Danny was for doing it. He just smiled this smile that was somehow fond and...kind of sad, and followed Danny back out to the couch to finish watching the movie.

If Isaac was any one of Danny's past boyfriends, they would've been making out before they even hit the couch. But he's not, and Danny can't even begin to say how thankful he is for that. Because with those other guys, that was all it was: the kissing and the making out and the quick screws that never really meant anything.

With Isaac, everything means something. At least, that's how it seems to Danny. Every touch, every smile, every kiss – they all mean something. I want to be close to you. I'm glad to see you.

I love you.

And okay, maybe that last part's just Danny, but there are times when he sees something in Isaac's eyes, and he thinks that maybe it's not. That maybe it's mutual.

When they get back in the living room, and Isaac's suddenly got his arms around Danny's waist, pulling him close and pressing their lips together, and it's warm and easy and completely free of expectations, Danny can't help thinking this is one of those times. Because yeah, they do all the other stuff, and it's great. Like, mindblowingly great.

But with Isaac, Danny's just as happy to sprawl out on the couch and finish watching a Disney movie he's seen a thousand times, because Isaac hasn't. They've traded positions, now. Danny's the one leaning against the arm of the chair, and Isaac's stretched out on the couch, head pillowed in Danny's lap, watching Balto with all the fascination of the child Danny's starting to wonder if he ever really got to be.

He's got his fingers in Isaac's hair, because he figured out a few weeks ago that Isaac likes to be petted, for lack of a better word. For someone that's been through what he's been through – and Danny can't even say he knows all of what that is; Isaac lets things slip every now and then, and Danny's kind of got it in broad strokes, but it's not really something Isaac likes to talk about – he's really tactile. He likes walking close enough to brush shoulders, sitting close enough to bump knees, lying curled up together until it's kind of hard to tell where one of them stops and the other one starts.

His hair is definitely his weakness, though, which Danny's got no problem indulging. Isaac's curls are soft against his fingers, and the way Isaac unconsciously leans into his hand makes Danny smile almost as much as the way he keeps perking up when Balto howls. Seriously, every time. It's the weirdest thing.

It occurs to Danny, then, that he's paying more attention to Isaac than he is the movie. In his defense, he's memorized the movie; Isaac's way more interesting. There's a small smile on his face, and he's ditched his long-sleeve t-shirt. The white v-neck he's wearing does a much better job showing off his lithe muscles, especially where it's ridden up around his stomach.

That's when Danny notices the scars.

Well, that's not true. He's noticed them before. It's just…he's never really realized how many there are. They don't really stand out at first glance. But as Danny finds himself tracing his fingertips over the thin lines of paler skin on Isaac's hip, it just kind of hits him.

The sad thing is, some of Isaac's worst scars aren't even on the outside.

"What're you doing?"

Isaac's voice, quiet as it is, startles Danny out of his thoughts. For a second, he feels kind of like the kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, until he tells himself that's ridiculous and goes for a slightly less guilty-looking shrug instead. Isaac's turned to look at him, so non-verbals are a go.

"Sorry," he says. "Does that bother you?" He didn't really think about it. Isaac's kind of…shy? about his scars. It took spending an hour in a thunderstorm before Isaac would even change in front of him, and the clothing-optional parts of their relationship are kind of a recent development.

Thankfully, though, after a second, Isaac shakes his head. "It's fine."

"You're not just saying that to make me happy, right?" He says it like he's teasing, but he's kind of actually really serious. He gets the feeling Isaac humors him a lot, and while there are a lot of times he thinks getting Isaac out of his comfort zone might be a good thing for him, he doesn't want to do anything intentionally to make Isaac uncomfortable.

For a second, Isaac doesn't say anything, and Danny's just about to take his hand away, but then Isaac nods. "Yeah," he says, and Danny gets the impression from the way he says it that he's actually a little surprised with his answer himself. "Yeah, it's fine." And then he turns his head and goes back to watching the movie, and as Danny goes back to tracing the lines on his side, up his belly, across his ribs, he seems perfectly at ease. Comfortable. Content.

Danny smiles a little brighter. Because it's true: Isaac has a lot of scars, and the ones Danny can see, touch, trace…those are only a few of them. There are ones that run deeper, ones that Danny can't touch, but he can feel.

But even though those scars will never fully heal, never fully disappear, Danny knows that with time and maybe just a little something more...even his deepest scars will fade.