He's totally trying to woo him with Hawaiian pastries.
It occurs to him Monday night of the last full week of April, about a month after he first decided to start sitting next to Isaac at lunch, as he's standing flour-dusted and victorious in his kitchen over a baking sheet of freshly-made, still-steaming andagi.
Tomorrow's a special occasion. It's April 23rd: Lover's Day. It's also Take a Chance Day, which Danny doesn't think is coincidence. In the spirit of the holiday, underappreciated as it is, Danny decides he's going to do it.
He's going to tell Isaac how he feels about him.
See, he's learned a lot about Isaac this past month. Way more than he knew before.
He's smart, for one. Not, like, book smart, the way Lydia and Stiles and even Danny himself are, but the way his mind works is kind of amazing, in its own way. Especially when he doesn't think anyone's paying attention.
Since both their usual partners left the school – for Danny, it's Jackson, and for Isaac, it's Erica – they end up being lab partners for the rest of the year. At first, he was a little worried, because Isaac and molecular formulas didn't seem to get along. But after a lunch with his chemistry book and a totally innocent one-on-one study session at Danny's, he got the hang of it pretty quickly. And when it came time for the actual lab, Danny realized something: Isaac has a freakish memory.
"In a good way, I mean," he told him when he accidentally let that slip during lab one day. Isaac had just, without so much as glancing at the book, parroted off the first three steps of the lab, with temperatures and amounts and everything, like it was nothing. "Freakish in a good way."
Funny, too. Those little muttered comments Danny first started noticing a couple weeks ago are apparently just the tip of the iceberg. He's got a wicked sense of humor, dry as bones, but not really biting or cruel like Danny finds a lot of people's are. He's that right mix of sarcastic and slapstick, and even though he doesn't joke as often as some of their group do – coughStilescough – when he does, it's pretty much guaranteed they're gonna laugh. And when they do, that small sort of halfway-there smile on Isaac's face grows, and…wow. Has Danny mentioned he has dimples? Because he does. He has really great dimples.
And as Greenburg found out the hard way last practice when he got a little too rough trying to get past Danny at the goal, he's also apparently really protective of his friends. He didn't say anything at the time; Isaac's not really a words kind of guy. No, he's more a man of action, which Danny can definitely get behind, and the next time that whistle blew, Greenburg was on his back before any of them could blink, and Isaac was standing over him with one arm out and the other hitched up in an unapologetic shrug.
It's things like that – brutally and effectively clothes-lining a teammate on Danny's behalf – that still have him hoping there's a chance they could be more than just friends.
Sure, he could just be being a good teammate, and there are definitely worse things than having a friend like Isaac watching his back like that, but he can't help thinking there might be something there. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, it's just…the way he smiles at him in the hall, even if he bows his head after he does it; the way Isaac, who's got the most strictly-enforced space bubble Danny thinks he's ever seen, doesn't seem to mind it when they're sitting so close their shoulders are pressed together and their knees are touching under the table; the way he apparently decided after that first study session that Danny's window is his own personal doggy door. Hell, Kalea already thinks he's got a boyfriend, and he's pretty sure he can only say 'he's just a friend' so many more times without knowing for sure that's all he is without losing his mind.
Thus, the holiday. Thus the andagi and the frankly ridiculous amount of time he spent trying to translate his mother's 'just a pinch's and 'about a handful's into actual quantifiable measurements.
Thus the bundle of nerves in his stomach as his little sister – except he's not supposed to call her that out loud, now that she's officially a middle schooler – samples one of desserts to tell him whether they're edible or not.
He thought about just asking his mom to make some for him, so he could know they would turn out well, but that would require an explanation. Last time he asked, it was after he caught his ex cheating on him, and even though these circumstances are probably a little bit better, if still kind of frustrating, he doesn't really want to explain to her that he's attempting to use simple sugars and complex carbohydrates to win the affections of a crazy attractive, soft spoken, emotionally damaged classmate who may not even be into guys.
…then again, she's probably heard worse from him.
That would've felt like cheating, though. If he's gonna do this, then he's gonna do it right. Even if it does make him feel a little bit Martha Stewart.
So, here he is, watching his sister as she chews thoughtfully and way more slowly than she needs to, and resisting the urge to fling a spoon at her and tell her to hurry up.
Finally, though, she nods, and once she finishes swallowing her mouthful of fresh pastry, she smiles. "If I weren't your sister, I'd totally marry you," she says, and you know, it's probably a good thing that Danny didn't try one of the andagi, because he probably would've choked on it.
As it is, he just coughs and tries to cover his flush by turning around and starting to clean up the counter. "I'm not trying to get him to marry me," he grumbles. "I just want to get him to date me." Brushing a little bit of stray flour off the counter, he sighs. "Heck, I'd settle for getting him to realize I'm even interested in him."
"You really don't think he noticed?" Kalea asks. She's sitting on the counter, swinging her bare feet back and forth into the cabinet where the finish on the wood is worn down in two spots. Her feet hit the top of them; Danny's feet are to blame for the bottoms. He's done his time on the counter, too, taste-testing and badgering and everything else that comes with back-seat cooking. "I mean, don't take this the wrong way, brah, but you're not exactly the queen of subtle."
This time, Danny does thwap her with a spoon.
She yelps, even though he didn't hit her that hard, and mock-glares at him. "I'm just trying to help."
"Try harder," Danny replies.
"Okay, fine, how about 'he'd have to be an idiot not to fall head over heels for you?'"
Danny shoots her a look. "I'm being serious, 'lea."
"So am I." And then she plucks the big wooden mixing spoon out of his hand and bops him on the head with it. "It'll be fine," she says, and then hops down off the counter. Danny feels the knot in his stomach loosen up enough for him to smile as she starts out of the kitchen, and he feels a flutter of encouragement when she not-so-subtly swipes another andagi off the cookie sheet. "Besides," she adds as she heads off into the kitchen, "I totally caught him checking out your ass last week."
And once again, Danny is eternally grateful there's nothing in his mouth, because clever as his sister is, she is not yet CPR certified, and his parents are out.
It takes him a good few minutes to remember how to breathe right again, and by then, he can already hear the sounds of the Discovery Channel on the TV in the living room. His sister's kind of a nut, he thinks.
He's kind of lucky to have her.
…and that's about where his luck runs out. Because as it turns out, all the work he did making the andagi, and the trouble he went through packing it and being, like, obsessively sure that it didn't get smushed or anything, it's all pretty much for nothing.
Isaac's not there. He doesn't see him before class, around his locker, around Danny's locker; he doesn't see him in French class. And when he gets to the lunch room, sure enough, his seat's empty. Scott's, too, and come to find out after about three minutes of sitting listening to complete and utter silence save the freaking machine-gun tapping of Stiles's pencil on the table, neither he, Allison, nor Lydia are in very talkative moods.
Not for the first time, Danny feels like he's missed something. But even if he was going to break his standing rule of 'don't ask, let them tell,' one look at the stress lines on all three of their faces, and he realizes that today…just isn't that day.
About ten minutes in, after Stiles checks his phone for the fifteenth time since Danny sat down, he comes up with a lame excuse about having to go study for the chem. quiz next period. They don't need to know that he and Isaac spent three hours on it Sunday night, just like he doesn't need to know why Stiles looks so relieved he could cry when he checks his phone the last time. Maybe one of these days, they'll see fit to tell him what the big secret is, but right now, he's got other things to worry about.
Strangely, the difference between covalent and ionic bonds isn't one of them. Which is probably why he accomplishes pretty much nothing in his studying, and he eventually gives up and shuffles on to class a few minutes early.
Imagine his surprise when, a few minutes later, chief among those 'things to worry about' slides into the seat next to him like he was never missing at all. He even flashes Danny one of his trademark half-smiles when he glances over at him, and Danny can't help noticing his hair's a little wet damp, like he just got out of the shower. It's sticking up a little funny, too.
Without thinking, Danny reaches up to fix it, and it's not until he's got his fingers carded through Isaac's curly hair – and wow, it really is soft – that he realizes what he's done. He freezes. Isaac's looking at him, his expression somewhere between surprised and confused, and Danny expects at any moment for him to smack Danny's hand away, because even Danny knows that's a teensy bit over the top.
Except he doesn't. He just kind of sits there, and his blue eyes are locked on Danny's, and for the second time in that many days, Danny kind of forgets how to breathe.
And then the door opens, and just like that, the spell's broken. Danny jerks his hand back, thankfully not pulling Isaac's hair in the process, and turns to see—
Lydia.
Who is, by the way, pretending not to know she interrupted something, and doing a really craptastic job of it.
For the sake of not losing it at one of his best friends, Danny elects to ignore her, and turns back around to Isaac, who's…still…looking at him.
Okay then.
"Missed you at lunch today," he says in what he hopes is a casual voice. He thinks he pulls it off okay. Only Isaac keeps looking at him, and Danny could swear he sees the corner of his lips twitch. Suddenly desperate to be doing anything, Danny reaches over and grabs his backpack. The tinfoil bundle isn't all that hard to find, and he pulls it out, holding it out for Isaac. "Brought you something."
For a second, Isaac doesn't move, but then he reaches out and takes the package, and he's definitely smiling, now, which somehow makes Danny's heart beat faster while simultaneously easing his nerves. Isaac has that effect on him. He just feels…calm. Even though Isaac's a little bit jumpy himself.
Somehow – at this point, Danny's, like, ninety-nine percent sure he has superpowers – Isaac manages to open the tinfoil without ripping it anywhere, and if possible, his smile brightens. "They're different," he says without even tasting one.
Danny's stomach does a weird sort of somersault. "I made them," he says, and then manages a smile of his own that hopefully doesn't look as nervous as he feels. "Tried to, anyway. My mom apparently doesn't believe in writing down recipes, or, you know, actually having recipes that don't involve freakish amounts of guestimation and trial and error. So, I can't make any promises."
Isaac doesn't argue, but then, Danny's not really expecting him to.
He's also not expecting him to look Danny dead in the eyes and put the whole thing in his mouth. And that…really shouldn't be as attractive as it is, but Isaac's definitely a wonderful, beautiful freak of nature, and if Danny didn't have it bad for him before, he does now.
Especially when he leans in, one elbow on the desk and his whole body turned to face Danny. He's close enough that Danny can actually smell him. Not his cologne – he doesn't actually think Isaac wears cologne – but actually him. He smells…earthy, Danny thinks is a good word for it. Clean. Almost like the forest after the rain, except that's kind of cliché for Danny's tastes, and it doesn't really do him justice. There's this sort of energy to the way he smells; it makes Danny's hair raise and his skin tingle. Not like a forest after the rain.
More like the forest after the storm.
"Don't tell your mom," Isaac says, and either Danny's imagination is having a field day, or his voice is actually kind of husky. Low. "I think I like yours better."
At this distance, Danny's pretty sure there's no way Isaac can't hear his heart racing. Hell, Lydia can probably hear it on the other side of the room. And the fact that she is, in fact, in the room – and she's no longer alone – should probably mean a lot more to him than it does, but it's kind of hard to focus on anything but the fact that Isaac's close enough that all he'd have to do is lean forward just a little, maybe an inch or two, and he could be kissing hi—
"Everyone spread out!"
For once, Danny's the one that jumps like he's been shot, only to have to nobly resist the urge to pound his head on the desk when he sees Mr. Harris standing at the front of the room. Somehow, during his and Isaac's…conversation, most of the whole class has trickled in. Granted, they don't seem to be paying Isaac and Danny any attention.
Danny still chokes back a whine. C-blocked by the chem. teacher.
That's just not right.
Out of the corner of his eye, he catches movement, and he stops focusing on the unfairness of it all just in time to see Isaac flash him another crooked smile that looks a little bit mischievous.
It takes him a second to notice his cheeks are pooched out.
It takes him another second to realize the remaining andagi is nowhere to be seen.
It takes him the rest of the freaking day to convince himself that killing his chemistry teacher is actually a bad idea.