Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom
A/N: There is SLASH. If you don't like it, DON'T READ IT.
Danny knew what he wanted. He had known for a very long time. But now was the chance to act. Now was the chance for him to grab his prize.
Dash was walking home tonight. Alone. He was whistling something, obviously very pleased about whatever he had just done. It was a very warm night, and Dash had opted to hold his letterman jacket rather than wear it. If Danny had anything to say about it, the night would get much hotter.
Danny was crouched on top of a streetlight. From a certain perspective, he could look… evil.
Not that he was trying to be evil. It was just the circumstance.
After Dash had passed beneath him, Danny phased down to the sidewalk.
"Dash." His voice was deeper, louder, more confident. He often was that way as the Phantom. His ghostly side was stronger, more confident. Nothing like the cowering human side that suffered abuse from the jock's hands every day.
Dash turned around. He was confident, even in a moment of surprise. Danny could see that Dash was tensing up for a fight.
"What?" It was more of a bark than a question. Dash was edgy when he was surprised.
"I've been waiting for you." Enigmatic, mysterious, and other such synonyms popped into Danny's head to describe how he sounded. He took a few steps forward. To his credit, Dash did not back away. "I've been waiting a long time, Dash."
"Yeah? And who are you?" Danny could see, with his heightened ghost vision (or perhaps, because of his obsession), that Dash was trying not to tremble. His words, so confident to everyone else, sounded scared to the halfa.
"You know who I am." Danny stepped forward a little more, near enough so Dash could see in the darkness.
"Ugh. I really need a publicist. Don't call me that." Danny's eyes narrowed and his head cocked slightly to the side.
Danny saw that Dash found this look rather alluring.
"You can call me… Phantom." Danny walked forward more, until he was a breath's distance away from the blond teen. Next to the football giant, Danny looked small and childish. But by no means did he look weak. He looked dangerous, like a caged tiger in a child's form. Dash looked like he wanted to step backwards, or even run, from the ghost child, but Baxters did not back away from a challenge, and Dash was the epitome of a Baxter.
"What do you want?" Dash asked. Danny was amused by how weakly that came out and how much he knew that Dash wanted to beat himself for his almost shaky voice.
The answer was simple. "You," said Danny. It was said almost patronizingly, as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. A gray glove softly grabbed Dash's right arm, another not-so-softly pulled down his head until it was low enough for the phantom to reach. Then, the kiss, the kiss, and Dash became addicted to the strange ghostly apparition.
Danny stopped the kiss then and released Dash, who still stood as he had during the kiss - slightly bent, stunned, and servile. Danny breathed out a cold, blue plume of air. "I'll be seeing you around," he said. He faded into invisibility and flew away, to save another innocent in need of saving.
"See you around," Dash mumbled. Maybe Danny imagined it, but he could have sworn he saw Dash breathe out some of his blue ghost sense.