Danny was just sliding his Chem textbook out of his locker when someone – Jackson, judging by his cologne – sidled up next to him.

"So, looks like someone had a good weekend." Jackson's tone was light but probing, and Danny shrugged. He had no idea how, but Jackson could always tell these things.

"It was okay," he answered, dismissively. He might have gotten away with it with anyone else, but Jackson knew him far too well.

"Seriously, Danny? Who do you think you're talking to?"

"How the fuck do you always know, anyway?" Danny countered.

Jackson grinned. "You have this dumb smile on your face. It's the one you always get when you're lovestruck or when you just got laid."

"Shut up. You do not know what I look like after I get laid."

"So?" Jackson prodded, folding his arms and leaning against the lockers with a smirk. "Which is it?"

Danny huffed and shut his locker, refusing to answer.

"Ooh," Jackson teased – because even though he was Danny's friend, he was still a douchebag, "both, huh?"

"You are such an asshole."

"And you're my best friend. What does that say about you?"

"That I'm a great humanitarian?" Danny quipped, and Jackson laughed.

"Well? Where did you meet this guy? Is he good enough for you? When do I get to judge him? And most importantly, is he a tenth as hot as I am?"

If he didn't answer, Jackson would just draw it out of him eventually. He somehow always did, so Danny just rolled his eyes and deadpanned. "School. Definitely. You already have." He leaned in and looked Jackson square in the eye. "And hotter."

"Liar," Jackson scoffed.

Danny pulled back and shrugged with a tiny smile, because he wasn't lying. Jackson might not agree with him – he had an ego the size of the entire town, after all – but it was Danny's opinion that counted.

"Geez, you actually believe that. If you weren't blinded from what I can only assume must have been some really hot action, I'd be offended."

He murmured an agreement, only half listening, because Stiles was walking down the hall, chatting and laughing with McCall. He was gesturing wildly and when he looked up, meeting Danny's eyes, his face brightened even more and he smiled happily. Danny grinned in response, turning his head to hold Stiles' gaze as he passed. Stiles had twisted his whole body as he and McCall continued walking, shuffling backwards so he could keep looking at Danny. After a second he tripped on his own feet, flailing briefly before he caught his balance. Danny chuckled and shook his head fondly as Stiles sent him a half wave and an embarrassed look.

Adorable, he mouthed. Stiles blushed before grinning and turning away to head to class with McCall.

"You have got to be kidding. Stilinski?"

Danny sighed. He knew Jackson and Stiles didn't really get along, but for reasons that he still didn't know, they did spend a fair bit of time together. Danny had hoped that would be enough to stop Jackson from being a jerk.

"Jackson, seriously. He's…we're…just don't. I really like him, and I don't want to hear it, okay?"

"He is not hotter than me."

When Jackson didn't say anything more, Danny frowned, unsure of what to think. "Is that it? You aren't going to be a total asshole about him like the other guys I've dated?"

Jackson looked calculating, but after a moment he shrugged. "He's kind of a loser, but at least he'll never do anything to hurt you," he admitted, begrudgingly. "You're way too good for him, and he is not hotter than me, but if you're happy..."

"I am," Danny interjected, because this was Jackson, and that was probably the best he could hope for.

"Fine, then. I'll keep my mouth shut about Stilinski's many shortcomings. Just do me one favor."

"Let me guess," Danny grinned, "never give you details about the really hot action?"

Jackson grimaced then glared at Danny. "Okay, two favors."

"That depends. What's the second one?"

"If he's going to be hanging around us more, can you at least try to stop him from dressing like an eight year old with his first skateboard? Please?"