"Danny, do you find me attractive?"

And he was surprised. No one had ever asked him if he thought they were attractive, especially not someone as straight as Stiles Stillinksi. Danny didn't know what to say. He had never thought of Stiles as attractive. Then again, he'd never taken the time to look at him in an idealistic way. "Let me get back to you," certainly wasn't an acceptable answer. He could hear Stiles tapping his foot behind him, could hear his breathing quicken in anticipation. It would look ridiculous if he turned around in his desk and stared at Stiles in the middle of class, so Danny said the first thing that popped into his head.

"No, not really."


"Danny, am I attractive to you?"

And he was indifferent. Stiles obviously wanted a different answer, and Danny had found one. After Stiles asked him the first time, Danny couldn't help but watch his teammate. His eyes wandered across the classroom, across the field, across the parking lot, always finding their target on Stiles Stillinksi. Saying that Stiles was hot was a big stretch, but Danny couldn't deny that there was an overwhelming energy about Stiles that got Danny's heart beating a little bit faster. Yes. Stiles was attractive, but changing his answer so soon after he said "no" would be like pushing the big red button that you're never supposed to push. So, Danny pushed all thoughts of Stiles aside and gave him a short and simple—

"No."


"Seriously, Danny: am I attractive?"

And he was annoyed. It had been okay the first few times, and even though he'd found himself crushing on Stiles, Danny had had enough of it. Either Stiles enjoyed bugging the crap out of Danny, or he genuinely wanted an answer. He'd made it his job to poke and prod Danny any time that they were near each other, asking him the same question ten times in a row or until he felt like his head was going to explode. No matter how many times Danny said "no", Stiles kept coming back with the same six words rolling off his tongue like venom. Danny couldn't—wouldn't—take it anymore.

"How many times to I have to tell you?! I. Don't. Find. You. Attractive."


"Danny, wait… I know that I've been really annoying lately, but I'm really confused and I need answers and… Just, please be honest with me."

And he was understanding. Danny had dealt with the confusion of one's sexuality, and lying to Stiles definitely wouldn't do him any good. Even if Stiles wasn't gay, the least Danny could do was tell him the truth—that he loved the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, that he found himself drowning in the brown seas of Stiles' eyes, that he'd found himself wanting to forget about the world and kiss Stiles in the middle of Chemistry or after the winning goal of a lacrosse game. Well, maybe not the whole truth.

"Yes… I think you're attractive."


"Say it one more time and I promise I will never ask you to ever again."

And he was in love. It was one of the coldest nights the town had seen, but they were wrapped in each other's arms and hiding deep under Stiles' sheets, Danny's feet curling around his ankles, Stile's face buried in his chest. It was nothing but warm that night, so Danny placed a soft kiss on Stile's forehead and whispered into his skin—

"I think you're beautiful."