title: "Turnabout"
rating: r. for slash. and implications of boy bits.
notes: co-created with suutkomgi. we decided it was danny's turn on top. if there's anything vaguely resembling a plot in here, i blame it on her.
disclaimer: i don't own danny phantom. butch hartman does, and he rocks like that.


Dash choked back a sneeze even though it burned his throat and caused him to bump against Danny again.
"Watch it!" the other boy hissed. "They're still out there"
"Shut up, Fenton. This is all your fault"
"My fault?" Danny snapped. "You're the one who--" His teeth snapped shut with an audible click. The sounds of angry cheerleaders could just be heard outside of the small broom closet.

Danny went rigid, his spine stiff and muscles clenched. The cheerleaders were on the move. If they were attacked by the squad in these tight quarters... A shudder tried to rip down his back, but got trapped somewhere between his shoulder blades. Danny yanked on Dash's letterman jacket until the blond was half-hunched over, a handle probably jammed painfully in his back to judge from the sudden grunt of pain.
"Now listen," Danny whispered somewhere in the general vicinity of Dash's ear. Short hairs tickled his lips. Close enough. "This is important." He tugged on the letterman again when Dash didn't respond. "Are you listening? When a cheerleader asks why you think she shouldn't be on top of the pyramid, do not say, 'Because you're the heaviest.' "

Danny continued yanking on Dash's jacket, not particularly caring that the earlier grunt of pain had somehow mutated into a low whine of agony. He stood on the tips of his toes and he could feel the curve of Dash's ear under his mouth. "And if a cheerleader asks what you mean by that, say something like, 'You're the strongest,' or 'You're a pillar of the squad.' But do not say, 'I mean you're the fat chick.' !"

Dash tried to shove Danny out of his face, but somehow in the tight confines of the closet, it turned into a half-hearted squirm. "I didn't mean it like that"
Danny wanted to bite Dash's ear off, but had to settle for the broom jamming into the blond's ribs.

The angry squad stalked past the closet again and for one terrifying moment, they could hear a lone cheerleader speak, her clear voice tolling like a deathbell in their ears.
"Maybe they went in there"
Danny cursed and Dash tried to make a break for the door. Somehow both of them managed to wind up in a tangle of limps in the corner, frozen and waiting for the doorknob to twist and the wrath of an entire squad of cheerleaders to reign down up them.

"Oh please, Collette. The big jerk probably stuffed the little loser into a locker and bailed for home by now"
Collette made a pouting noise that was oddly cute, despite the fact that she was after Dash's blood, and said, "Maybe... But he couldn't have gotten that far yet! And I'm not leaving until I find him!"

"'Little loser'?" Danny muttered as the squad stalked off in search of their prey. "Why is it always 'loser"
"Because you are a loser," Dash said matter-of-factly. "It's not like it's your fault you were born puny," he said by clumsy way of apology.
"Gee, and just a few minutes ago, I was good enough to be your human shield," he snapped back.
"Shut up, Fenton."

"That's it!" Danny squirmed and shoved and struggled and twisted around with all of the acrobatic flexibility of one with years of experience being shoved into lockers. Which is to say, he managed much in the way of motion and very little in the way of locomotion.
Dash swallowed something that sounded suspiciously like a yelp and caught an elbow to the nose for his troubles. He tried to grab the other boy to hold him still, but instead wound up with a lapful of angry Danny Fenton. A lapful of writhing, wriggling angry Danny Fenton. "Stop it!" he hissed. The note of panic in his voice threatened to turn into a full symphony.

"No!" Danny growled in the most threatening whisper he could manage. "It's always 'loser' and 'wimp' and 'geek'! You are such a--" Danny found his rear resting on something that probably wasn't a broom handle. "--pervert..." he finished weakly.

The blond made a noise that sounded a lot like a squeak and didn't even bother trying to push Danny off.

"There's a bunch of cheerleaders out there who want to kill you and you're getting off on this!"

"Shut up, Fenton." His voice sounded more like a plea than a command.

It was hot and hard to breath and while he was fairly certain that was affecting his better judgement, Danny decided to take his revenge where he could. "You're getting off on this," he repeated and settled his weight firmly on Dash's lap.

Dash made another interesting noise. His hands were clamped desperately around Danny's hips as if he didn't know if he wanted to shove the boy off or hold him firmly in place.

A distant voice in the back of Danny's head made a polite little cough and tried to remind him that grinding down on the high school's star quarterback was hardly the best way to affirm his heterosexuality. Another voice (one that sounded suspiciously like a less pissy version of a certain alternate future evil self) just as politely told the first to shut up and fuck off. Then Dash let a long, low groan and finally decided he'd rather cup Danny's ass than just be rude and shove him off. Danny had just long enough to think that this might not have been the best idea he'd had in a while before one of those hands snuck down the back of his pants and everyone in his head thought now was a good time to be quiet.

Danny grit his teeth and bucked hard against Dash, determined not to lose this brief moment of control. Dash gasped and Danny did it again. And again. "That's for trying to use me as a human shield," he gasped.

A heat that had nothing to do with the tight confines of the closet crept into Danny's gut and flared up his spine. It felt like flying and falling and not caring if he hit the ground or not. Danny bent forward and dipped his tongue into the hollow of Dash's throat and traced a line up his neck and to his ear. "That's for shoving me in here with you..."

Danny heard someone whimper and he didn't know if it was himself or Dash. He tilted his head down anyway and nipped at Dash's throat. He heard Dash suck in a startled breath of air. Danny tasted skin and salt and sweat and bit down without thinking of the mark he was leaving. "That's for calling me a loser..."

It was all about angles and elbows and Danny squirming about to find a way to fit on Dash's lap without being poked by a random broom handle. Then it all came together and it all fell apart and Danny's legs were spread wide and his hips jammed against Dash's and his arms wrapped tight around Dash's neck. Their lips were chapped and Dash kept trying to breath through his mouth, but as a whole, Danny thought kissing him was a rather effective way to get Dash to shut up.


Danny took a shuddering breath. He grabbed at the nearest mop handle for leverage and pulled himself upright. For one terribly giddy moment, he was aware of just how close Dash's face was to his crotch and shook the thought off with a vengeance. Danny tripped over Dash's legs and groped for the doorknob. He fell out into the hallway, cold tile smacking under his knees. Danny looked up and Dash hauled him to his feet.

"What was that last one for?" Dash asked before letting Danny go.

"That was for me," Danny said and walked away.