Here I am to finally resolve that cliffhanger lmao

Heads up in this chapter for a brief discussion about trauma, response to trauma, and some VERY briefly but heavily implied sexual assault (mentioned, not occurring; to avoid the mention, skip the three paragraphs starting at "it was a few years ago," particularly the last paragraph)

Danny touched down at the Weston household, making sure nobody was around before returning to human form. Even though it couldn't have been any later than five-thirty, it was already dark outside, the winter chill nipping at Danny's arms unnoticed. He stared up at the front door, worn with weather and age. He couldn't think of anywhere else Wes would have gone.

Then again, it was already becoming more and more apparent that Danny didn't know Wes nearly as well as he thought he did.

Not giving himself time to rethink his actions, Danny knocked on the door.

The wait was a tense one, and it gave Danny time to think. Never in a million years would he have expected to get a kiss from Wes Weston of all people. It had come from seemingly out of nowhere. There was no way he could have developed feelings for Danny, right? Not when up until just a few months ago he had been such a stubborn jerk. And a creepy one, at that. Danny just couldn't understand what would have changed his attitude so quickly.

And then his reaction afterwards. Wes had looked absolutely terrified. Danny's response had certainly spooked him, enough so that he'd fled almost immediately. And that look on his face... Danny wished he could say he didn't recognize it.

He needed answers. And the sooner he got them, the better.

It was Walter who answered the door, his tie partially undone and his usual suit jacket nowhere to be seen. He must have just recently gotten home. He looked surprised to see Danny at his doorstep, brows disappearing into his hairline. "...Danny? I thought you were out training with Wes."

"We were," Danny stammered out. "But then something happened, and he ran, and... and I really need to talk to him."

Walter's surprised expression didn't leave his face, but something darkened behind his eyes, a twinkle of understanding with an emotion Danny couldn't quite place. Was that fear? Recognition? Distrust? Hope? "...Well, I haven't heard him come home. Are you sure he came here?"

Danny paused, but there was no mistaking the way ice gripped his lungs, frost hanging loosely on his breath. "...He's here. Can I go in and talk to him? Please?"

Walter studied him. Looking for what, Danny didn't know. But he eventually relented, stepping aside. "...Alright. If he's here, and if you really need to talk, then you can come in."

"Thank you Mr. Weston," Danny said quickly, slipping inside.

It wasn't hard to figure out which room was Wes's; in such a small house where unused rooms were left open, surely the only closed door would belong to Wes. Danny knocked, soft but urgent, then waited for a response. He wasn't too surprised not to get one. So he opened the door.

Visually, the room was very cluttered, with posters and newspaper clippings layered over the walls, knick knacks covering any available flat surface, and clothes and sports equipment in piles on the floor. But that all failed to cover up how small the room actually was, the plain green bed being nearly as long as the room was wide. There was hardly any space to move around, let alone hide.

But Wes's presence was undeniable. Danny's chest felt numb in that way it did to remind him a ghost was nearby, and the sole light overhead flickered weakly with barely restrained emotion. And if Danny listened closely, he could almost hear the muffled gasps of someone trying to stifle their own breaths. "...Wes, I know you're here."

The blankets on the bed ruffled before Wes came into view, the comforter giving way as he shoved himself as far into the corner as he could. He didn't bother hiding how terrified he was now that he had been found, violet pinpricks visible behind contracted pupils. "You... You followed me?!" he stammered.

"I just need to know what's going on," Danny said, taking a single step forward.

"Stop!" Wes barked with a startled ferocity that had Danny stopping in his tracks. "D-Don't come any closer!"

"I won't, I won't," Danny assured him, his tone urgent but with forced calm. A picture was slowly painting in his mind, one that he really, really didn't like. But he needed to be sure. "...Please. I'm not mad, I just need to know what happened. Why did you kiss me back there?"

"I won't do it again," Wes said quickly, almost before Danny could finish.

"Okay," Danny hummed, "but I still don't know why you did it in the first place." Wes clung to himself tighter, anxiously wetting his lips. He didn't reply. "...Please."

"...Shouldn't it be obvious?" Wes finally ventured, his eyes not once diverting from Danny's face. Danny couldn't even be certain he'd seen him blink yet. Wes took a shuddering breath, the next words out of his mouth seeming to take almost every last ounce of his willpower. "...I-I'm gay. I like... I like guys. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Danny had been able to gather that much. One didn't just kiss someone out of the blue if they didn't have some sort of interest. Still, the reluctant admission confirmed Danny's suspicion. "...But you're still in the closet, aren't you. You didn't want me to find out."

There was another pregnant pause, and then Wes nodded. Danny's calmness unnerved him; he didn't know what to make of it. He had no idea what was going through Danny's head. "Yeah. Just... Just leave me alone. Please. I won't do it again."

"But why didn't you want me to find out?" Danny pressed. "We're friends, aren't we? You could have told me."

"No." After such a firm word, Wes recoiled, as if expecting retaliation. "...Even if we are friends, that doesn't... that doesn't mean you would be okay with it. I... How would I know?"

Being afraid of stepping out of the closet was one thing. But being afraid of coming out to a friend was something else. Social circles were supposed to be safe, a place where you could be yourself without ridicule or backlash. For Wes to not trust one of the few friends he had, there was only one conclusion Danny could draw. And it horrified him. "...Did... Did something bad happen to you? Because someone you trusted found out?" He kept his voice low. "...Was it your dad?"

"No," Wes hissed, scandalized. The lack of hesitation assured Danny that he was telling the truth. "It wasn't him. Not him. It's... I'm not... It..." Wes swallowed thickly. "...It wasn't something that happened to me. But... But it could have. I was lucky."

It wasn't any of Danny's business. He wasn't entitled to Wes's story. But Danny was nosy, overcome with curiosity as to what could have happened that had Wes so terrified without even being a direct victim. "Who was it?" he asked. "What did they do?"

Wes hesitated, idly picking at his blankets. And even then his eyes never left Danny's. Why would he need to know? Why would he want to? "...Why should I tell you?"

"Because I want to know," Danny answered honestly. "You're not scared of anything, so whatever it was must have been really bad if you were so worried about me finding out about you."

He was right. There wasn't much that could intimidate Wes. And yet the thought of someone finding out he was gay was enough to leave him petrified. He didn't know who was safe to trust, and who wasn't. And yet, some small part of him knew that Danny was just trying to understand. He had yet to show anger, or disgust, or even fear. There was nothing to indicate that he would retaliate for what Wes had done. And yet a large, insistent part of him nagged all the same, still demanding that he cower, make himself as small of a target as possible.

But he wasn't a target, right? Surely Danny would have done something by now if he'd had any intention of doing so. He could find Wes anywhere he went, thanks to his ghost sense, and was more than strong enough to overpower him. But he hadn't even tried to, and there had to be some merit to that.

"...It was a few years ago. Middle school," Wes deliberated, forcing his muscles to relax ever so slightly. "I, um... I never really liked girls. Didn't like much of anybody, actually, so I didn't figure it out until I was about twelve. I didn't really think anything of it at the time, so I never mentioned it." He sucked in a nervous breath. "...And it was a good thing I didn't, too.

"I think I was thirteen, maybe I just turned fourteen. Someone on the team posted pictures online. Him and his boyfriend. We were all friends, so I guess he thought there was nothing to worry about." He licked his lips again, curling up a little tighter at the memory. "...He was wrong, though. Had to find out the hard way that people like them, don't like people like us.

"Th-They surrounded him in the locker room, after practice. Coach was in his office. They started pushing him, and making fun of him, and calling him names I hadn't heard before. A-And then one of them grabbed him, and everyone took turns kicking his legs, and pulling his hair, and punching him, and they made me help and I had to because they would have tried to hurt me too because they would have known, so I had to h-h-hit him, and then they... they... th-they t-t-t-"

"Wes, look at me," Danny cut in. Wes looked to be on the verge of hyperventilation, and Danny really didn't like that look in his eyes. When getting his attention didn't seem to help, Danny stepped forwards, arm outstretched to rest a hand on his shoulder-

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Wes shrieked. Danny drew back like he'd been burned. He glanced back at the bedroom door, but Walter never opened it. He returned his focus to his troubled friend, taking another few steps back.

It was several seconds before Wes regained his bearings, only then realizing he had lashed out. He struggled to control his breathing, violently mussing his hair before his hands returned to his jersey, clinging to it like a lifeline. "...I-I'm sorry, I'm, I just... Don't touch me. Please."

"Alright, I won't," Danny promised, suddenly feeling like he was way in over his head. Jazz would have been better at this. Danny was out of his element. "...You don't have to tell me the rest. Sorry I asked."

Wes hummed. Whether it was a reply or the result of his nerves, Danny didn't know. They were both silent for a long time.

"...So what now?"

Danny blinked. "What do you mean, what now?"

"You know," Wes replied quietly. He didn't elaborate, but he didn't need to.

"I'm not gonna tell anybody, if that's what you're worried about," Danny swore.

"How do I know that?" Wes demanded.

Danny blinked again, taken aback. "...What? No, why would I tell anyone? That could be dangerous."

"That never stopped you before," Wes ground out with a startling amount of venom. He still had a wild look in his eyes, but it wasn't just fear now. "You didn't think about that when you decided to tell your entire social circle I was half dead, did you? Sam and Tucker, okay, sure, I get it. Jazz, alright, maybe. But you told Valerie about me. Valerie! A ghost hunter! What next, are you gonna tell your parents? The mayor? The government? Where's the line, Danny? Where's the line?!"

"...Oh." Danny couldn't think of anything else to say to that. And he wasn't given the chance to try.

"You didn't even ask me," Wes continued, his voice smaller. "Even when I said no, you still told Valerie. I didn't trust her. I didn't trust anybody you told, but that didn't matter because you did. And then you had the audacity to get mad when I told my dad about you, when I didn't even have a choice? I told one person. One. And you told just about everyone you knew. Even when you knew I didn't want you to. So how am I supposed to trust you to keep quiet about this when you tell everyone about my other big secret all the time? How do I know this would be any different?"

Danny didn't say anything for a long time. Wes, having said his piece, deflated, eyes shimmering like he could cry at any moment. All Danny could do was stare.

He was such a huge hypocrite. He'd been a ghost for almost two years now, and there were very few people, sans ghosts, who knew about both sides of him. To reveal that to anyone could put his entire livelihood at stake. What was more, he knew he would have been upset if anyone told somebody without permission. Heck, he had gotten upset about that very thing before. Wes had made a good point there.

And what had Danny done? He'd outed Wes to just about everyone he got along with. It had all been for his benefit, sure, but he didn't confide in Wes at all before making that decision for him. Not once. Whether it was in his best interests or not, Danny, of all people, should have known better than to disclose something like his secret identity.

Wes was right not to trust him.

"...You're right," Danny conceded, shoulders slumping. "I shouldn't have told as many people as I did. I shouldn't have told anyone, not without asking you first. I'm sorry." Wes just stared at him, looking no less ruffled. "...I know I can't take it back. But what I can do is tell you one of my secrets."

Wes cocked his head, confused and intrigued. "...What do you mean? Why?"

"Well, I figure, if you know something else about me, I've got incentive not to tell anyone your secret, right?"

"You're suggesting mutually assured destruction," Wes deadpanned.

"Maybe," Danny shrugged, "but it'll do until you can trust me again, won't it?" Wes stared a little longer, and Danny found himself fidgeting under his scrutiny. "...Uh, you mind if I sit down?"

Wes frowned, and at first Danny thought he would say no. He wouldn't blame him if he did. But then he was nodding towards the swivel chair across the room, though it was only a couple feet from the bed, considering the size of the room. Danny gratefully accepted the offered seat. He was getting tired of standing by the door.

"...So what's your big, not-ghost secret?" Wes ventured when the room had been silent too long.

"I'm trans," Danny replied.

Now it was Wes's turn to blink. He looked Danny up and down, brows drawn. "...No you're not. You said it too easy."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Not everybody has some horrifying traumatic backstory, Wes."

The response only baffled Wes further. He wouldn't go so far as to say he was traumatized, exactly. He didn't think it counted, at any rate. But even so, he wouldn't have expected Danny to admit to that aspect of himself so readily. And yet he couldn't detect even a hint of a lie. "...You're trans?"

"I'm trans," Danny repeated. "What, does that surprise you?" When his only answer was some more staring, his expression morphed into one of amusement. "Seriously, Wes? You only studied me for, what, a year? A year and a half? Honestly, I'm surprised overshadowing me didn't clue you in. I was wearing a binder!"

"Yeah, well, I dunno! I thought it was a compression top, and that you had anxiety or something!" Wes spluttered.

Danny's humorous smirk became a massive grin. "Anxiety?! Why was that your first thought?!"

"Because that's what I do!"

Now it was Danny's turn to splutter. "Wh- I- Since when did you have anxiety?!"

"You're looking right at me!"

It was impossible to say when, exactly, it happened, but the palpable tension in the air had dissipated almost entirely. The boys found themselves cackling, at the absurdity of the situation, at the flux of desperate relief, at their mutual disbelief. Trust hadn't mended completely— that would come with time— but nerves had finally settled, leaving them both much calmer than they had been in the past hour.

Wes was the first to sober, dashing a wrist across his face to wipe away the tear streaks that remained. His shoulders were slumped, but it took only a glance to know that he wasn't relaxed. Not entirely. "...So, um… About what happened…"

Danny reeled in his last few chuckles, doing his best to steel his expression into something more mature. "What about it?"

"Well, I mean..." Wes carded a hand through his hair, the calmness in which he did so indicating that he was no longer afraid, simply nervous. "...You know now. And, um… if you don't want to be friends anymore, that's... uh. I would understand."

"What, because you kissed me?" Danny clarified. "This isn't the first time a friend of mine has done that, you know. That's not gonna be enough to scare me off."

"Yeah, but..." Wes trailed off, one of his hands reaching down to idly pick at his sheets. "...Well, you're always talking about Paulina, and you dated Valerie that one time, and everyone knows you and Sam kissed. So I just figure, you know..."

"There's nothing going on between me and Sam," Danny refuted, cheeks heating up in his embarrassment. "But, I mean... I did kiss Tucker once."

Wes whirled around, making dead eye contact for the first time in at least two minutes. "You what?! How come I never noticed?!"

"Because it was back in eighth grade, you big doofus," Danny chortled. "We were just trying things out. He wasn't really a fan. And me, well... I don't like him like that, but I didn't exactly mind." Wes stared some more. "...People can like both, Wes."

"I-I know that!" Wes stammered hotly. "But..." But Danny made confessing look so easy! His pride wouldn't let him voice that aloud, though, so instead he asked, "...But you don't hate me? Even after all that?"

Danny snorted. "Of course not. I just didn't expect it, that's all. I mean, it isn't like you ever acted friendly before you got your powers."

Wes flushed, indignant. "Yeah, w-well...!"

"Dude, relax, I'm just teasing a little," Danny chided, grinning. He hesitated, smile faltering. "Er, unless you'd rather I didn't."

"Just, um, maybe not in front of people," Wes murmured. Danny nodded; it was a reasonable enough request. "...But if you aren't mad at me, and if you don't mind kissing boys... then does that mean...?"

Danny pursed his lips. Wes's expression was just hopeful enough to make him a bit nervous. He felt heat bloom across his cheeks at the expectation he felt in that gaze. "...I don't actually know. I guess I haven't really thought about it."

"Th-That's okay, it doesn't have to mean anything, really," Wes stammered. "You don't have to like me back, honest. It was a heat of the moment thing, and I didn't think about it, and I shouldn't have done it, but if you don't feel the same you really don't have to-"

"Wes. Relax. Seriously, you don't have to get so worked up trying not to make me mad at you. I'm not upset, really. We're still friends."

Wes clamped his mouth shut, fidgeting with his fingertips. "...Promise?"

Danny smiled. "I promise."

Wes made a really interesting face then, crumpling and going red. For a moment, Danny was terrified that he had said something wrong; Wes looked like he was going to break down crying. But then the jock's hands rose in stops and starts, hovering somewhere around chest level. "...C... Can I...?"

Danny's smile became a grin, and he spread his own arms out wide. "Get over here."

Wes didn't hesitate, diving in and clutching Danny's torso like a lifeline. Fingers scrabbled at the back of his shirt, desperation and mania and relief all rolled into one. Danny held Wes close, letting him soak up as much comfort as he could. He needed to know that, awkward crush or not, Danny was there for him, and would continue to be there for him. What he'd learned today wouldn't change that.

It was, however, still possible for a hug to last too long. Danny broke contact, and Wes let him go without complaint and sat back down, his hands firmly planting themselves in his lap.

"Well, I probably should get going," Danny said. "My parents are gonna start patrolling the streets if I don't head home soon."

Wes snickered; he'd seen it happen before, more than once, and he more than understood Danny's rush. "Alright, alright, and… thanks. And, uh. Sorry. About freaking out."

"Don't mention it," Danny waved him off. "I get it. I'm just happy we cleared it up."

Wes smiled. "Yeah. Me too."

"Guess I'll see you Monday," Danny said in farewell, turning around and opening the door. But, Danny being Danny, he couldn't resist one last quip over his shoulder. "Kiss your doll good night for me, will you?"

Wes honked, going red with both embarrassment and indignation. He reached for the Phantom plush in question, and Danny closed the door with a snicker, the doll hitting it a split second later.

As Danny made his way back down the hall, he heard the shuffle of footsteps from the doorway closest to the living room. He peeked inside, and found Walter reading a book, standing in the middle of the bedroom floor. He glanced over the pages as Danny passed, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a knowing smile.

So he eavesdropped. Big surprise. But, at least he wasn't frowning, or shouting for Danny to never speak to his son again, so he must have done something right.

Parental hovering aside, Danny felt light as he left the house, taking to the sky. There had been so much tension between him and Wes, and he'd somehow never noticed. Problems that he didn't even know were problems had surfaced, and Danny felt like they'd only taken baby steps towards rectifying them. Infatuations had come to light, and were almost immediately shot down.

Danny pursed his lips. No, not shot down. He had never actually turned Wes down, had he? Why? It was no secret that he was pining for Paulina– who wasn't?– and it was true he'd had a brief relationship with Valerie. And, heck, maybe he and Sam were close. It wasn't like they'd been childhood friends or anything, sheesh.

The point was, while Danny did technically like both boys and girls, he had only ever had crushes on girls. Had only dated girls. He'd never really been interested in a boy the same way he was for girls.

Not that he would complain if it ever happened. But it wasn't like guys ever came along and flirted with him (Gregor did not count, those compliments and kisses were for his cover, he did not mean them and Danny did not have complicated feelings about that whole thing). For all that Danny was open to all sources of affection, not once had a guy shown him genuine interest.

Until Wes. And Danny had somehow completely missed it until he was being kissed in the middle of the woods. There was no giggling, or batting of lashes, or much of anything to indicate that Wes saw him as anything but a friend. Maybe boys just flirted different? Maybe the signs were there and Danny didn't know how to read them. What if he himself had been sending signals too, and didn't know it because they weren't the kind he knew about?

But why would he be sending signals at all if he didn't feel that way? Because he didn't, right? He didn't get butterflies when Wes looked his way, and he never found himself a bashful stuttering mess. And he definitely didn't get attached too quickly, considering their history, and had never caught himself staring at Wes's hair when a sunbeam hit it just right, and okay, maybe they held hands a lot, and... and...

Danny sighed. He had a lot to think about.

I needed them to hug. Danny is canonically a hugger and we all need that reminder.

Yeeeeeeee gay boys making up! And we got to learn a little about both of them in the process!

I already know what I'm doing for the next three chapters, and have started writing chapter 30 already. Not sure how long it'll be or how long it'll take me to upload it, but y'all are certainly about to learn a candid thing in a very not-candid way :)