guys I'm starting to really like dandash I'm actually so cooked
Y'all, chapter 7 is kicking my ass. I had to start putting the actual plot in here and I've restarted the chapter like 3 times because I can't get it to work with me.
Chat, i am just now realizing that I did not include something very fundamental to my John design in my story.
It is time I throw myself off a river.
Anyway, i was going to do a better watercolor cause i don't entirely like how this one turned out, but I've kind slowed down on posting and figured why not throw it out.
Basically, I was inspired by @tatumsdrawing mechanic au and I started this project mainly cause I found a severe lack of fics with stuff I wanted to read and decided to contribute.
Of All The Stories In The Stars, Ours Has Yet To Be Told (7031 words) by StarsWhisper Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dash Baxter/Danny Fenton Characters: Danny Fenton, Dash Baxter, Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Paulina Sanchez, Kwan (Danny Phantom) Additional Tags: Aged-Up Character(s), on the way to college, mentions of child abuse, Mentions of homophobia, Redemption Arcs, Bisexual Danny Fenton, everyone becoming good friends, learning how to live, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Second Chances, lots of classical literature references, lots of astrology references, more tags coming when i think of them Summary: It's the end of senior year and Dash and Danny are having the worst time of their lives. Dash's father finds out he's queer and tries to kill him. That lands him in prison with divorce papers. Dash goes to therapy to cope and learn how to change his behaviors while taking some time off from school. He now needs to learn how to navigate the world and figure himself out. Danny fears he'll never figure out what he wants for his future beyond being the hero of Amity Park forever and he's running out of time to figure it out as he watches everyone he knows move on without him. Plus there are always the people hunting him down that he has to worry about on top of that.
~
“Do you blame yourself?”
Dash eyed his therapist for a moment before dropping his gaze to the floor. She was sitting comfortably on her big fluffy chair, legs crossed and clipboard in hand; Dash wondered how she was able to be at such ease all the time while the people she talked with were always so visibly on edge. The couch he sat on always felt too wide and isolating for just one person. It didn’t have enough stuffing and the wood always dug into his skin and made his bones sore.
“What?”
“Well, it is quite common for children in these situations to assume the blame for-”
“I’m not a child. I’m almost nineteen.”
She hummed, scribbling something in her notebook. Dash hated when she did that. He knew it was helpful, but it made him feel small. He didn’t like feeling small. She stared at him, waiting for him to continue the conversation. He hated when she did that too.
Dash snorted. “Blame myself for what? My dad trying to kill me? The disappointment in my mom’s eyes when she looks at me? That half the school hates me because of how I’ve treated them? You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“The divorce,” she answered, uncrossing and recrossing her legs, “but it sounds like there are other things on your mind. Would you like to talk about those?”
“No.” Dash sighed, shifting and failing once again to get comfortable. “I just… I feel so…” Angry? Sad? Guilty? Relieved? Scared? “...ashamed.”
“And why do you feel that way?”
“I don’t know.”
She waited patiently in silence. He shrunk in on himself, head tucking into his shoulders like a turtle.
“I just should have known better.”
“What should you have known?”
Dash huffed. “I don’t know, everything! That I was treating my mom like garbage; that I was acting just like my father even though I hated him; and that if I stayed on that path I would end up alone and angry and awful just like him. I just should have known better…” He let his words trail off, threading his fingers together and squeezing, hoping his therapist wouldn’t notice them shake.
“Dash, no one can be expected to know everything right away, or else every baby born would be Albert Einstein. We have to give ourselves the grace to learn. Shame is a powerful tool; it tells us what we feel the need to improve on. If we feel shame over our actions, we then know where to start to correct our course.”
Dash sighed and leaned back into the couch. “Then I have a lot to learn.”
“What have you learned so far?”
“That I suck.”
“Let’s try again with more constructive language. What have you learned so far?”
He took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. It was okay to cry, he just didn’t want to. “I need to start actively making decisions in my life to change. That I can’t keep going the way I’ve been going and expect to end up happy.”
“What does change look like to you?”
“I don’t know.”
She quirked her eyebrow, remaining silent.
“I actually don’t know. I mean, it’s not like I can convince my friends to stop bullying people.”
“You stopped, right?”
“Well, yeah. I did, but every time I tried to tell them why, they just laughed at me. How am I supposed to get them to change?”
“Let’s try focusing on the things that you can control. You may not be able to control other people, but you can control your environment. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, but that’s really hard to do. I mean, a quarterback with no friends during his senior year isn’t exactly a fun time.”
“I understand. Maybe you could try taking it in baby steps. For your homework today, I’d like you to write out at least a five-step plan for the change you want to see in your life.”
Dash took a deep breath, resetting his lungs. “Okay.”
“Is there anything else, you’d like to talk about, we’re almost out of time.”
“No,” then, “thank you.”
“Of course, it’s what you pay me for.”
Dash stepped outside, letting the door to the building slam shut behind him. No one ever talked about just how physically exhausting therapy could be. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with Pookie on his comfortable couch with some snacks and mindless T.V. But, he’d promised his mom he’d pick up groceries on his way back. He turned down the main road and began his long trek to the store.
“Shame is a powerful tool,” He grumbled under his breath. “It sucks.” He kicked a rock down the road. Maybe step one of his plan would be to finally convince himself to go back to school tomorrow. He kicked the rock again. Or maybe he could get away with graduating from home.
“Duck!”
Dash threw himself to the ground; growing up in Amity Park you learn not to hesitate. If someone says duck, you duck, no questions asked. A bird ghost smashed into the brick wall behind him; ghost feathers showering around him. He scrambled over to the alleyway, ducking behind the trashcans. Once he was safe, he peeked his head out to see the bird ghost stand up and shake its head. Phantom rushed past him, landing a kick straight to its chest.
He pulled his ghost-catching thermos out of apparently thin air and pointed it at the ghost. It screeched at him as it got caught in the blue whirlwind and clawed at the edges of the device; ultimately losing as Phantom capped it. He turned toward Dash. “Sorry, are you o-”
A bright, sickly green light shot through the air, clipping Phantom’s arm, glowing ectoplasm splattered across the ground. He screamed and dropped to the ground, cradling the injury with his other hand.
Dash leaned around the corner, straining to see what could have happened. The Fentons were standing there, Mr. Fenton holding a gun pointed right at Phantom.
“Ha-ha! Did you see that, Maddie! I got him on the first try!”
“Great job, honey. But go easy on the Fenton Venom; we want him alive or we’ll be limited in the experiments we can do.”
Dash frantically waved in Phantom’s direction; he was struggling to pull himself off the floor and was flickering like he was trying to disappear but couldn’t. They made eye contact- Phantom’s wide and panicked- and Dash pointed to the alley behind him, hoping against everything that the hero would understand what he meant. Then he full sprinted out of the alley and collided with Mrs. Fenton, knocking her into her husband and successfully grabbing their attention.
“Mrs. Fenton!” He screamed once they had all regained their balance. “Thank god you’re here. I saw a ghost!”
“You saw a ghost!” Mr. Fenton whipped around, gun in hand completely forgotten.
“It was huge! Like the size of a car! And it had like these, these, giant fangs and I couldn’t-”
“Dash, calm down.” Mrs. Fenton chirped. “Where did you see this ghost?”
Danny waited until he knew for sure his parents were distracted by Dash before making a B-line for the alley, trying not to let any of his blood fall onto the ground and give him away. He tucked himself behind the trashcan, desperate to keep all of him out of sight. The smell of burning flesh permeated the air. He moved his hand to check on his injury.
There was a fairly decent-sized chunk taken out of his arm and the area around it was bubbling and falling away, dissolving before it could actually fall off. It burned like hell. His hand was tingling from where he’d touched the injury.
“Figures they’d make a poison at some point,” He hissed, blinking his eyes to keep the tears at bay, he needed to be able to see right now. He tried turning invisible again, but this time he didn’t even flicker. “Fuck, what is this?”
“Oh, man that looks bad.”
Danny whipped his head around to see Dash staring at him. Panic swelled in his chest.
“Don’t worry, they’re gone, chasing a ghost that’s not even there.”
Danny sighed, resting his head on the building behind him. “Thank you.” When Dash didn’t immediately leave he added, “I’ll be okay in a moment, when I can get my powers back.” He left the ‘please go away’ to be implied.
“Right,” Dash nodded, swinging his backpack around and digging through it. “You wouldn’t happen to have like a ghost doctor or something would you?”
“No,” Danny bit back the scream of pain crawling up his throat. God, it felt like he was being torn apart molecule by molecule. It didn’t matter how many times he did this torture thing, it never got any easier to handle the pain. “Ow!”
“Right, okay,” Dash pulled a first aid kit out of his bag and then tossed the bag to the side of the alley, before dropping to his knees next to him. “Okay, I’ve got this.”
Danny leaned away from him. “What have you got?”
“Don’t worry, my mom’s a nurse and she’s taught me a lot of first aid. We need to wash that poison off before it does some real damage.” Dash looked around for a container of some kind and had to settle with one of the trash can lids. He put it next to Danny and started rummaging through his kit.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing? What if you make it worse?”
Dash inhaled sharply, like he was practicing extreme amounts of patience. “Look, you’ve saved my ass, like a lot, now let me save yours. Plus, it’s not like you have a lot of options right now, right?”
Danny wanted to argue, but Dash was right. Short of crawling across town to either Sam or Tucker’s house without his parents catching him or his arm falling off, he didn’t have any other options. He was still hesitant about it; at least he was until the poison hit a major nerve and his entire arm blazed with pain. “Shit!” He yelped, a few tears trickling down his cheeks. “Okay, fine. But fuck up my arm and I’m haunting you for eternity.”
“Deal.” Dash uncapped a bottle of distilled water and gently grabbed Danny’s arm, moving it over the lid and rotating it so the poison wouldn’t run over more of his skin. “Okay, this is probably going to sting. Just try not to move.” He tipped the bottle.
The water hit his skin and it did in fact sting. Danny inhaled sharply through gritted teeth and yanked his arm away. The water splashed off his arm and hit his leg, burning less than the direct poison, but still burning. “Shit!”
“I said sit still!” Dash whisper-yelled, quickly rinsing off his leg. “Sorry,” Dash frowned, “I’m sorry. Just, please try not to move. We don’t know what this stuff is and we definitely don’t want it getting anywhere else.”
Danny dug his nails into his palm, a few more tears falling from his eyes. He took deep breaths, trying to ignore the sting of the water. He flinched when the water hit the deepest part of his wound. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m sorry, I yelled. I didn’t mean to.” Dash threw the empty bottle of water away and grabbed a second one. “Hang in there, I need to make sure I got all of it out before we bandage it. Did it get anywhere else?”
Danny held his hand out to him. Dash grabbed his hand as gently as possible. His hand got off easier, looking more like road rash than poison. It didn’t sting as much when he poured the water over it. “Sorry.”Dash apologized anyway.
Danny chuckled.
“What’s so funny.”
“Nothing, I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize this much. Are you sure I haven’t died again?”
Dash’s face turned red with shame. He capped the water bottle and turned to grab the antibiotic ointment. Figures Phantom would know about his past, he’s been around a long time and he was pretty sure ghosts saw things that others might not.“Thanks for noticing. My therapist says I’ve been making exceptional progress lately.”
Phantom burst out laughing, tears flowing freely now. His shoulders shook with the strength of his laughter, causing his hair to fall into his face. Is laugh was big and boisterous and deep. A soft pink glow illuminated his cheeks. He placed his free hand on his forehead, desperately trying to reign it in. His eyes were scrunched shut and his lashes were wet with tears.
It was ethereal.
Dash shook his head; focus!
“Sorry,” Phantom finally choked out, still gasping on the remnants of laughter, “sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Therapy is so cool. I promise I’m not laughing at that. It’s just-” another giggle- “I’m asking you about your vocabulary while I bleed out in an alleyway. What a crazy Tuesday, huh?”
“I’m just glad you’re not crying anymore.” Dash hyper-focused on putting the antibiotic ointment on the burns on Phantom’s hand and wrapping it with gauze.
“I wasn’t crying.”
“It’s okay to cry.”
“I know it’s okay, I just wasn’t.”
“Okay.” Dash chuckled, moving over to bandage his arm.
“Really, I wasn’t.”
“I bet this is handy, huh?” Dash changed the subject, pointing to his arm where the flesh was slowly, but surely stitching itself back together.
“What is?” Phantom turned to look where he was pointing.
“Your ghost healing stuff. Now that the poison is gone it looks like you’re doing fine.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess it is.”
Dash finished securing the bandages in place. “Not that I don’t- that everyone doesn’t appreciate it, but why do you do it? The hero stuff I mean. Surely a ghost would have better things to do in the afterlife?”
Phantom gingerly moved his arm around, testing its movement. He grinned at Dash. “Well, yeah, but who else is going to do it?”
“The Fentons and the Guys in White don’t seem too keen on retiring anytime soon.”
Phantom frowned, his brows furrowing. “Uh, yeah, and while they can be helpful, they’re not always the most reliable or efficient ghost hunters. Plus, they don’t know half the things I know about ghosts.”
“Right, that makes sense, I guess.” Dash began picking up the first aid stuff. “Has anyone ever said thank you?”
Phantom startled, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Um, no. Surprisingly, you’d be the first.”
A shout echoed in the distance. “Let’s circle back around, Jack. Maybe we missed an alleyway.” It was Mrs. Fenton and she was close by.
“If you can, you’d better,” Dash said to Phantom, who- when he turned around- was already gone, “go.”
He hurried to collect the pieces of his first aid kit and packed it up. His heart was beating so fast. Who would have thought he’d be the one to help his- the town’s hero out? And that he was really pretty when he laughed?
Dash reached for his backpack and stuffed everything in, before dumping the mixture of water and viscera into the trashcan and fixing the lid back in place. He sprinted out of the alley and down the road before the Fentons could find him and ask what he was still doing there.
He stopped to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. He had (in a less than technical sense) held Phantom’s hand today. Paulina was going to be so jealous. That was if she even wanted to talk to him. He didn’t really know what his friends would think about him now.
He sighed, that was a tomorrow problem. Right now his problem was getting to the store before they closed. And getting new supplies for his first aid kit.
Dash walked toward his old table as slowly as he could. Step one of his plan was just to see how everyone reacted. He’d go wherever he needed to from there, whether that be going friendless for the last month of high school or explaining to everyone why he wanted to stop being mean to people and hoping they’d agree.
Dash’s heart fell when he saw his usual spot next to Kwan was taken. In fact, the whole table was full. Paulina and Star were laughing at something one of the football players had said. Kwan was the first one to notice him.
“Oh, Hi, Dash!” He waved.
Dash waved back. “Uh, hi, Kwan.” Dash looked between them and instantly knew he had lost the battle.
Star kicked Kwan under the table. “Uh-hem.”
Kwan retracted his hand.
Paulina wouldn’t look at him. She looked sad, torn.
“Sorry, Dash,” Star murmured, “but one of the club rules is you have to be in a certain tax bracket to sit at the table.”
“My mom’s not poor.” Dash weakly defended.
“It’s the rules,” Star fiddled with her fork, “you know that.”
Dash inhaled. “Alright, whatever.”
“Dash, just so you know,” Kwan said before Dash could leave, “it’s not because you’re gay.”
“Thanks, Kwan.”
“We’re not homophobic.”
“Thanks, Kwan.”
“It is just because you’re poor.”
“Thanks, Kwan.”
“We’ll need your hall pass punch card back,” Paulina spoke softly, still not meeting his eyes.
“Fine, I’ll bring it by after school. I really thought you guys were better than this by now.” He turned and left. He glanced around the cafeteria and then headed for the door outside. Not a lot of people used the ones out there anymore because of all the ghost attacks. He’d be able to do some homework at least.
Dash sighed. A part of him still really wanted to tell Paulina about yesterday. And he’d had plans with Kwan to go see the new Nightmerica movie later this month that he’d been really excited for. Guess that was out of the question now.
As predicted, there were only a few freshmen at one of the tables. Dash sat at the one furthest from them. This was alright; a change of environment, just like his therapist had said, just on an expedited schedule. He sighed and pulled out his book for English class. Might as well get started on that homework.
Danny watched as Dash sat down. He hesitated all of about five seconds before he started walking over. A tug on his shirt stopped him.
“You’re joking, right?” Sam snorted, letting go of his shirt.
“What?” Danny shrugged, his best convincing smile plastered on his face. “Look at how sad he is.”
“He looks pathetic.” Tucker chided.
“And it’s what he deserves, to be sad and lonely.” Valerie glared in Dash’s direction.
“Oh come on, guys! He’s not that bad. When’s the last time he even bothered us?”
“So, what he patches you up and bats his big jock eyelashes at you one time and you’re stuck to him like a freshman with a crush?”Tuckertaunted.
“What!? It’s not like that! He’s just trying really hard to change and I think we should give him a chance.”
“Yeah, 'cause he totally gave all of us a chance.” Valerie sneered.
“Look, let’s just go talk to him and if he’s an ass about it, we can leave and you can all say, I told you so.”
“And if he’s not an ass we can invite him over for a sleepover and braid each other’s hair?” Sam giggled, excitedly flapping her hands.
“Yeah! Hey!” Danny frowned. “Come on, Sam. Can’t you be nice for once in your life?” Danny rolled his eyes and walked over to Dash’s table, not caring if the others followed him or not. They did, of course.
He sat his tray down, confidently he hoped. Dash startled, looking up from his book.
“Mind if we sit here?”
Dash hesitated, blinking. He rubbed his eyes, looked around the group like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and blinked again. “Uh, sure, I guess.”
Danny threw a grin behind him at Sam and Valerie and sat down in front of Dash. The others sighed and sat down on his side of the table. Dash was staring.
After a moment, Danny casually- oh so casually- pointed at the book in Dash’s hands. “That for Lancer’s advanced class?”
“Uh, yeah; the concurrent enrollment one. I didn’t really want to deal with it in college.” Dash closed the book and dropped it on the bench next to him, cheeks turning a little pink. He fumbled with his hands like he didn’t know what to do with them now.
“Hey, me too. I’m in the morning section though.” Danny punctured the side of his milk carton with a straw, wincing at the pressure it put on his arm. The wound wasn’t a giant hole anymore, but it still had a little more internal healing to do before his nerves would be back to normal. “Don’t tell Lancer this, but I didn’t really like The Scarlet Letter .”
“Wait, you didn’t?” Sam scolded, leaning around Tucker to make sure Danny visibly saw her disappointment. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Danny shrugged, glancing at Dash who was still staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “I just didn’t like the vibes.”
“I figured if anyone would understand the vibes of having a giant painted letter on their chest, it would be you,” Valerie smirked at him, picking distastefully at her mashed potatoes.
“It’s probably cause he didn’t finish it.” Tucker, oh-so-helpfully interjected as he tapped away at his PDA.
“You didn’t even finish it!?” Sam huffed, flinging her fork down, failing to startle Dash out of whatever staring contest he was having with Danny’s nose.
“No, I got bored.” Danny gazed back at Dash. Had he even blinked? “What did you think Dash?”
Dash didn’t react to the sound of his name. He was completely zoned out, a confused and panicked expression stuck on his face. His nose was scrunched up in thought.
“Dash?”
Dash finally blinked, jerking upright and hitting his hands on the table. He flinched, blood rushing to his face. “Uh, what?”
Sam rolled her eyes.
Danny chuckled. “ The Scarlet Letter , what do you think about it?”
“Oh,” Dash dropped eye contact, “I just barely started it.” He shoved some food in his mouth, remembering that it was there.
“Dude,” Danny laughed, “the test is in like two days.”
“Uh, dude , the test is tomorrow.” Tucker corrected, turning his PDA to show Danny the schedule.
“Shit, it’s tomorrow?” Valerie groaned. “I’ve got to finish those last two chapters fast.”
“You’ll tell me how it ends, right?” Danny batted his eyelashes at her.
“As if, Fenton. Do your own homework.” Valerie playfully shoved his shoulder.
“Ow!”
“Oops, sorry. I forgot.” She shoved his side instead.
“I’m sorry.” Dash blurted. His eyes were fixed intensely on the table this time and Danny thought he saw him shaking just the tiniest bit. “I’m really sorry that I bullied you guys for so long. I was told that I was better than certain people and I had a lot of anger from… everything happening at home and I never stopped to think about what I was doing and that’s not really an excuse, but you guys didn’t deserve that and I’m really sorry.” He took a deep breath, relaxing slightly now that he had gotten everything out.
Danny smiled at him. “Thank you, Dash. I appreciate that.”
Tucker couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face. He had to admit, an apology certainly felt nice. “Yeah, man. That was surprisingly mature.”
“I guess taking a few weeks off has really changed you, huh?” Sam sneered. Danny kicked her under the table. “It is nice to hear you say it though.”
Everyone turned to Valerie who was staring off to the side. Dash held his breath. She turned to him, her gaze softening.
“I suppose it’s been long enough and considering you just got a taste of your own medicine, I’m willing to give you another chance. Just make sure you don’t squander it, yeah?”
Dash released his breath, eternally grateful for Valerie’s good nature. “Thank you, guys. And again, I’m really sorry.”
“Keep saying it and I’m going to vomit.” Sam teased.
A silence fell over their table, everyone trying to release tension by eating their food. Danny wasn’t really sure what he should bring up after something like that and there wasn’t really anything he knew about Dash that Danny Fenton could ask him about. He wracked his brain, hoping to pull something out of thin air.
“So,” Tucker beat him to it, “Danny’s bisexual.”
“Tucker!” Everyone but Dash- who reeled back like he’d just been called a slur- yelled at him.
“What?! I just wanted him to know we’re not homophobic.”
“So, you just decide to out Danny?” Valerie scolded.
“Not cool dude.” Sam punched him in the arm.
“Ow! Sorry, you know how I am with uncomfortable silence.”
Dash was staring at him again.
“Tucker,” Danny sighed, “I am amazed you are capable of keeping any secret.”
“Are you really?” Dash whispered like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to ask such things out loud.
“Uh, yeah, I am.” Danny drew back, hunching in on himself. “Does that bother you?”
“No. Why would it bother me ?”
Danny just shrugged.
Dash cleared his throat. “Have you, uh, have you told your parents yet?”
Danny sighed, making Dash tense like he’d overstepped. “Yeah, I have.”
Dash glanced at him, making eye contact with him for the first time in a moment. “Can I ask how they reacted?”
Danny frowned. “Well, they didn’t try to kill me or beat me up if that’s what you’re asking. But, they didn’t leap for joy either. They kind of just-”
“That’s nice, Danny,” Tucker interrupted, clearly mocking his mother, “but have you seen the Fenton blaster anywhere? I swear I just had it.”
“Hey, that’s great, Danny! Now you can pick two of your chores to do today!” Sam bellowed, doing a really good impression of how his dad laughed.
“Oh.” Dash glanced down at his half-eaten lunch.
“Yeah, not the best reaction, but better than what you got, I guess.” Danny gave him a small, pitying smile.
“Basically everybody knows what happened then?” Dash picked at the table, getting a few slivers in the process.
“Yup, pretty much.” Sam drawled.
“You know how news travels through the A-listers and their parents.” Valerie scoffed. “Everyone had pretty much known what had gone down and why by Monday.”
“Awesome.” Dash sighed.
The lunch bell rang, saving everyone from the depressing turn the conversation had taken. Tucker quickly devoured the last few bites of his burger as everyone but Dash, who was taking his time to pack up his stuff, stood and headed for the door.
“I’m gonna invite him to study with us,” Danny stated.
“He’s good with History, so I’m okay with it,” Valerie shouldered the door open and sped walked down the hall. She had a class at the complete opposite end of the building so she had no time to waste.
“I still think you’re making a mistake Danny. Not a lot of people have what it takes to change.” Sam chided, throwing her lunch wrappers into the recycling bin.
“Come on, Sam.” Danny sighed. “When are you going to start trusting my decisions?”
“I trust you. It’s him I don’t trust.”
“Okay, then trust me when I say I trust him. He apologized. Isn’t that proof of something at least?”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Fine, but I’ll keep my I-told-you-so ready.”
“Good enough. Tucker?”
“I am currently making a betting chart, I’ll let you know what I decide based on how the bets are going.” He didn’t even bother to look up from his PDA.
“Okay, I’ll catch up to you guys.” Danny waved and waited for Dash while the other two walked inside.
Dash took longer than necessary to pack his bag. He needed a moment to decompress. Lunch had been a lot of big emotions all at once and he really just wanted a nap. He kept his book out, maybe he’d be able to get through some of it during his next class.
Dash watched as Danny leaned against the door, flinching when his shoulder hit it wrong. He rubbed his arm, wincing and taking a step away from it.
“Did you hurt your shoulder or something?” Dash asked as he opened the door, waiting for Danny to slip inside first.
“Oh, uh, I, um, sprained it while helping my parents in their lab. No big deal.” Danny trailed after him like Dash had hoped he wouldn’t. He didn’t know how much more awkward conversation he could take right now.
“Hey, I wanted to ask you if you’d like to join our study group after school today?” Danny somehow kept perfect pace with him, not even once bumping into anyone. It was like he didn’t exist in the same place as the crowd. Meanwhile, Dash kept bumping shoulders with people walking entirely too slow.
“I haven’t even really started the book.” They arrived at Dash’s locker. He opened it, hoping it would save him from this.
Danny leaned on his good shoulder against the locker next to his, clearly having no intention of leaving until he got his answer. “And I haven’t even finished it. Besides, we study for all our classes and Valerie says you’re really good at History. Plus, we can always just listen to the others discuss it and hope that’s enough to get us at least a C+.”
“Is that how you pass all your classes? Cheating off your friends?” He didn’t really know how to talk to Danny now that their dynamic had changed so rapidly. He was still reeling from the fact that Danny chose to sit next to him at lunch and talk casually about an assignment like nothing had ever happened between them.
Danny gasped. “How dare you, it’s not cheating. It’s studying. I’ll have you know I’m not a cheater.”
His eyes were so blue, like they had an internal light glowing behind them. And he had gotten taller over the years, much taller. He was at the very least as tall as Dash if not a few inches taller. He looked a lot less like the twig from freshman year and more like someone who could dominate professional basketball. Well, if professional basketball players dressed like an angsty theater kid. His hair had grown longer in the back and he’d dyed the underside white, creating a (fashionable) mullet situation. He’d started wearing black t-shirts and red flannels; chains dangled from the side of his jeans; he’d pierced his ears and Dash could have sworn he’d seen him wearing fingerless gloves on a few occasions. The only part of his outfit that was the same, were the red sneakers he wore.
“So?”
Dash blinked. That was the third time today he’d been caught staring. Come on, Baxter, focus! “So?”
“So, are you coming?”
“Why are you suddenly so keen to hang out with me? Usually, people tend to avoid the guy that was a piece of shit to them.” He reached for his math book, shoving it in his bag.
A lazy grin crawled its way onto Danny’s face. “Eh, you’re just not as big and scary as you think you are.” He fucking winked at him. Jesus Christ. “Besides, I may not have thrown you in a locker or chased you down the hallway or hung you from a flag pole, but I have played my fair share of nasty pranks on you in the past. And you’ve just apologized so we’re on even ground here.”
“Wait, what pranks?”
Danny spoke over him, “So are you coming or what?”
Dash gazed heavily into his locker. Danny was staring and it made him nervous. He weighed his options; he could either go home and take a much needed nap, tiptoe around his mother at dinner, and then hide in his room all night, or he could go study and maybe catch up on all the assignments he’d missed and had put off doing. “What subject are you good at?”
“Physics.”
“You’re good at physics but not math?”
“I choose not to question it.”
Dash made sure to sigh as dramatically as possible. “Fine, I’ll come.”
“Awesome!” Danny cheered, peeling himself away from the locker and walking backward to his class. “See you after school!” He turned and booked it down the hallway, almost disappearing into the crowd.
Dash sighed again, this time for his own benefit. He closed his locker and leaned his forehead against it. So much for his nap. At least he could tell his therapist he’d started making changes before he’d even finished writing out his five steps. She’d be proud.
Much later that night, Dash pushed open his front door, dropped his bag on the floor, and braced for impact. Pookie came running around the corner, yapping away, and slammed into his ankles. Dash knelt down, vigorously petting his dog.
“Hey, boy! Who’s a good boy? Who’s a sweet little guy? You are! You are!”
Pookie barked lovingly at him, shaking every molecule in his body from sheer excitement. He licked at his hands.
“Gross, Pookie. You’re gonna get a stomach ache from school germs.”
“Dash? You home, sweetie?” His mom called from the kitchen.
He drew in a deep breath, his body tensing from the anxiety rushing through his veins. His mom hadn’t really talked about what happened beyond making sure Dash knew she loved him no matter what. She’s been avoiding the subject. “Yeah!” He slowly made his way to the kitchen, Pookie following dutifully behind.
His mom was standing over the stove, spoon in hand as she stirred something that smelled amazing. She looked tired. She probably just barely got home from work.
“You’re home pretty late, did something happen?” She asked reaching for the spice cabinet.
Dash walked over and reached for the salt, handing it to her. She always put it back just a shelf too high. He peeked into the pan; stir-fry, his favorite. He avoided her eyes, he didn’t want to see the disappointment he knew he’d find there. “No, I was just at a study group trying to catch up on some homework.”
“With Kwan and Paulina?” She asked slowly, like he would fall apart if she made one wrong misstep.
He washed his hands in the sink. “No, actually, Danny Fenton invited me to join his group.”
She stirred the pot in front of her, falling silent for a moment. “That’s certainly a change.”
Dash felt like he was swimming in ice water. “Yeah, I, um, well, I apologized to him for giving him such a hard time and he sat with me at lunch.” Dash figured she didn’t need to know the exact order of events. “Kwan and Paulina don’t want anything to do with me.”
She frowned. “Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry. It’s not because…” She trailed off. She hadn’t said the word yet. Dash hated that she wouldn’t say it.
“No. At least they said it wasn’t; just that I’m apparently too poor for them now. Club rules.”
She pulled some plates down from the cabinets. “That’s probably just their parents spewing venom in their ears.”
“It’s the same thing we did to Valerie freshman year. I kind of knew it was coming, I just hoped things had changed.” Dash grabbed the filtered water from the fridge, pouring them both a glass.
“Thank you.” She plated the food and walked over to the table, Dash following her. “I’m sorry your friends turned out to not be so friendly.”
“It’s okay.” They sat down, eating in silence for a moment. Dash hated the silence the most.
His mom glanced up at him. “So, you apologized to the Fenton boy?”
Dash sat up straight, taking a deep breath before answering. “Yeah. I did.”
“How’d it go? I mean, obviously, you guys hung out, so pretty well?” She added even more salt to her plate.
“It was hard. And scary. But I think it went pretty well. Some of the others were there too, including Valerie. I think they were more hesitant to forgive me and I can’t blame them. But, I think it worked out okay. At the very least they were glad to have my help with History.” He picked a piece of meat off his plate to feed to Pookie, who was lying down by his feet like a good boy.
“I’m really proud of you, Dash.” His mom was looking at him, a smile on her face. He hadn’t seen her smile since the incident. He felt the shame covering him again.
“Don’t say that mom.”
“Why not? I’m very proud of the man you’re becoming.”
He set his fork down, focusing on controlling his breathing, he did not want to start crying in front of his mom again. “Cause I don’t deserve it. I was awful to you and to Fenton and the other kids at school. I haven’t even begun to make up for it, so how can you say you’re proud of me?” Too late, the tears were already halfway down his cheeks. He heard his mom stand up, but he was more focused on rubbing the tears away. Pookie was trying his best to comfort him by rubbing against his leg.
She gently held his face. “Dash, look at me son, please look at me.”
He did.
She was crying too.
“You have nothing to apologize to me for.”
“I said so many awful things to you and I destroyed our family.” He was full-on sobbing now.
“I’m sorry.” She choked out. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see what was going on sooner. You did not destroy our family. Your father destroyed this family. He destroyed this family when he taught my son to see others as less than. He destroyed this family when he taught both me and my son that we were unworthy of love. He destroyed this family when he started hitting my son. And he destroyed this family when he was ready to kill my son over who he loved. You didn’t deserve any of the things he did to you and I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. It’s my fault, Dash, not yours.”
She pulled him into a tight hug, her tears spilling onto his shoulders. Dash hugged her back and for the first time in a long time, allowed himself to fall apart. He sobbed and cried and yelled and held her tight like his mother’s touch alone would keep every bad thing away from him. When he had calmed a little, just enough to hear her, she spoke again.
“Of course, I’m proud of you. Despite everything you’ve been through, you chose to get help and you chose to still be you. That’s so hard to do and you did it anyway. When I look at you I see someone who wanted something better for himself and went for it; I see someone who is becoming who he wants to be, not who he was taught to be; I see someone who apologized to the people they’d hurt even though it was incredibly hard to do; I see my son. And I am so very proud of my son. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel any other way.”
Dash sniffled, holding on because he wasn’t ready to let go yet. “I thought you were disappointed in me.”
“Disappointed? Never.” She sniffled too. “I was just sad. Sad that my son was sad. And sad that I married someone so evil. But, I love you. And I’m sorry I don’t say it enough.”
Dash finally pulled away, wiping his tears away. “I love you too.”
She gave him a watery smile. She sniffed, inhaled a deep breath, and stood up. “Look at us.” She chuckled. “We’re a mess and our food is probably cold. I’m sorry, I know it’s your favorite.”
Dash leaned down and picked Pookie up. The dog had been going crazy at the two emotionally unstable humans in his house. “I think we’ve said enough ‘I’m sorry’s’ for the night.”
“Ugh, you’re right. Let’s just order some takeout and we can watch The Bachelorette or something and you can tell me which guys you think are the hottest.”
“Mom!” Dash was mortified.
“What? We haven’t talked about this yet.” She had the restaurant page and phone in hand, already typing in the number for the pizza place down the street. “I need to make sure you have better taste in men than I do. What pizza toppings do you want?”
Dash found himself laughing. It was nice to have his house feel like home again. He helped his mom clean the kitchen and get the couch blankets out of the closet for their impromptu movie night. Just as they were getting ready to hit play, his phone beeped with a text message.
Unknown Number: I stole ur # from, Val. :P Walk with us 2 school tmrw?
Unknown Number: It’s Danny.
Dash smiled down at his phone. What a dork. Dash saved the number in his phone, heart nearly caving in. It’d been all of one day and suddenly his entire life was different. He’d have to remember to thank Danny for being so forgiving.
“Who is it?” His mom asked.
“Uh, it’s Danny. He wants to walk to school together.” He twiddled his thumbs, not sure how to respond to the text.
His mom smirked at him. “Wow, that must have been some apology.”
Dash wanted to crawl under a rock and never come back out.
“Does he know you drive to school?”
“Probably not. I’ll just walk with him and tell him tomorrow.”
“Okay, whatever you say. Hit play, mister.”
Dash hit play on the TV. and typed a quick reply on his phone.
Dash: See you tomorrow
Nerd: Meet @ my place?
Dash: I’ll be there.
Nerd: See u tmrw :D
To the author who first gave me the advice to rewrite not edit, you deserve more credit than you're given. Absolutely changed my life. Wishing you well, pookie
the fact that dash has a dog called pookie has aged like FINE WINE
When you're on vacation and you told yourself to take a break but the next chapter is physically consuming your every waking thought.
Had to share this here too and not just with my friends. Like, what the heck is this?
Oops, my hand slipped.
Dash fit perfectly against him, all their edges and curves fitting together like a broken jigsaw. He'd never taken time to notice or appreciate that before.
He did now, as he wrapped his arms around his neck and hooked his legs over his hips; he prayed the janitor would forgive them for knocking their cleaning supplies to the ground.
Dash's hands were warm, gentle, and strong as they trailed over his skin and pressed into his hips. He groaned under their touch, encouraging them on.
He wasn't sure when he'd taken his gloves off; he only knew they weren't there when he tangled his fingers in the small curls of Dash's hair, ruining his gelled back style, and he could feel the product on his fingertips.
If someone were to ask him how he got here, breathing and humming into Dash Baxter's mouth as Phantom in one of the many janitor closets on campus, he wouldn't be able to explain it. He really shouldn't know his way around Dash's lips the way he did. It had happened once, on accident, and then it had kept happening.
He'd heard Dash scream from the library and had charged in to help. He could still remember when Dash had apologized to him Senior Year; he'd been crying. They hadn't been super close or anything at the time, but Danny would have considered them friends.
Dash had been standing his ground bravely, hurling books at the ghost while he made his way toward the circulation desk to hide. It had given Danny enough time to change unnoticed and take down the ghost, a simple raccoon mascot looking thing.
He had sat down on the table to catch his breath and Dash had asked him a question and the next thing Danny knew, they had been talking until the early hours of the morning, surrounded by sacrificed books.
Dash had been really fun to talk too and there was a small part of him that liked getting to know him. And he guessed he liked the attention, answering questions Dash could only ask him. It had been some time after the first rays of sun began peaking over the mountains that Danny had noticed it, the glow in Dash's cheeks, the look in his eyes, the tiny giggles in his voice.
Dash had a crush on Phantom.
He hadn't even realized when he'd leaned over and kissed him, his sleep-deprived brain failing to communicate the plan to him. Plan or not, he'd learned that Dash wore flavored chapstick-pomegranate that day, he remembered- and that he was a really good kisser.
The next time he'd fought a ghost on campus, Dash had foolishly dived in to help and had almost ended up dropped from one of the school's balconies. Danny had nearly lost his mind, and he supposed ending a safety tirade with a makeout session wasn't exactly a good idea- rewarding bad behavior and all that. But he was weak. And that's what college was for right? Kissing people without a reason?
That's when Dash had approached him- Danny Fenton- and asked him to teach him about ghost hunting. He was determined not to be a burden to Phantom the next time they met. It was brave and endearing so Danny not only tutored Dash on ghost knowledge, but he also offered to train him on hand to hand combat. And, boy, had that been a mistake.
Between Dash intently listening to him, being geuninely inquisitive, and losing one too many sparring matches, he'd found a reason.
He liked Dash. He liked him and it wasn't fair because Dash liked the version of him that couldn't take him on dates, or hold his hand while they studied, or kiss him goodbye for class, or cuddle during movie nights.
And the worst part? Danny had done this to himself. Of course he had.
Once Dash and Phantom had agreed on a no strings attached thing, boundaries firmly in place, he'd begun seeking him out even when there weren't ghosts attacking simply because he was having withdrawals and Fenton couldn't worm his tongue between Dash's teeth.
This being one of those times. He'd fought a ghost several hours earlier but had to wait around for Dash to get out of his evening class. It'd been near torture.
He used his grip in Dash's hair to drag him closer, relishing in the noise it pulled from him. Dash pressed against him til his back hit the wall and they were flush together. God, it wasn't fair how good he was at this.
Kissing Dash was addicting. There was no pressure for him to say or do the right thing, to perform, or be any kind of expert, or to go any further than he wanted. They could simply exist together, get to know each other like this, slow and without any sexual pressure. Danny loved the simplicity of it.
Dash had come out to him as asexual twice. The first time as Phantom when they were setting boundaries for this whole kissing situation. The second was when Dash had felt like Fenton and he were good enough friends that he wanted to tell him about the situation (not that it was with Phantom- some guy on campus, he'd said) and had to explain- to tell someone how kind and patient he was and how he'd been so scared it wouldn't work out and thankful when it had.
Danny had never been more jealous of himself than he had in that moment. He, as Fenton, could be kind and patient with Dash too, Hell, he'd beat his own record of kindness if it meant Dash would kiss him like this as Fenton.
Dash pulled away from him, heaving air into his lungs. Danny whined, chasing after him. "Don't stop."
Dash giggled, turning his head to the side so Danny's lips hit his cheek instead. "Unlike you, some of us still need to breathe."
"Boo, lame." Danny switched tactics, trailing his lips over Dash's jaw, pausing occasionally to nip at the skin as he made his way back toward his ear and neck.
Dash leaned into the touch, breathy moans dripping from his lips. "Being lame doesn't seem to be stopping you."
It'd take a lot to stop me now.
Danny hummed, ignoring him in favor of rolling his flesh between his teeth and soothing the spot with his tongue.
"You know," Dash breathed, "my friends are starting to… ask about these? Paulina is the worst but you should hear Danny. I think… it's the highlight of his day to tease me. I probably… deserve it for everything I put him through in the beginning of high school."
Danny wasn't sure how to feel about Dash constantly talking about his other personas to him all the time; it was getting hard for him to tell which one he had the crush on. Danny really didn't like the false hope fluttering in his chest. "Are you sure he's teasing you for revenge and not something else?"
He moved his lips lower, repeating the process over Dash's collarbone. Dash sunk his fingers deeper into the flesh of Danny's hips; he grinned, proud of himself for that.
"What, hmm, what do you mean?"
Danny pulled Dash's head around, kissing over to the other side of his neck to leave marks there. He did enjoy teasing Dash about the hickeys he left; Dash didn't try to hide them and that made Danny giddy.
"Maybe he's jealous."
Dash snorted. "Fat chance of that. It's a miracle he even considers being friends with me."
Danny uncurled his fingers from Dash's hair, letting them trail over his shoulders, easing the tension from the muscles. He couldn't help the flame of curiosity burning in his chest. "Would you want him to be jealous."
Dash hesitated, his hands moving to settle on Danny's thighs, tearing a gasp from him and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "Maybe."
Danny pressed his lips to Dash's cheek, lingering and murmuring against his skin. "I won't be offended."
Dash turned, catching his lips again, and had that been the end of the conversation, Danny wouldn't have complained. He was high off the answer he'd already received.
Maybe.
Dash's tongue in his mouth was distracting and it's not like he wanted to think about anything past that anyway. His chapstick was strawberry today, he'd never worn that before.
"I think I would." Dash muttered against his lips. "Is that wrong?"
Danny hummed, brain fuzzy. "Why would it be?"
Dash chuckled. "I'm kissing you and you're telling me that if I wished it were Danny Fenton sitting on this janky shelf, you wouldn't be offended. A lot of people would consider me in the wrong for thinking of someone else. And you're saying it as if it's something I can even entertain."
Danny stole another lingering kiss before answering him- he couldn't help it; Dash's lips were like drops of rain and he was thirsty. "Why couldn't you? What's stopping you from wrapping your head around the idea of Dash Fenton?"
Dash groaned, quietting him with his lips, his teeth nipping. Danny was unapologetic about the noise that got out of him. He anchored himself, digging his fingers into Dash's biceps; god he was so fit. He'd trace every muscle if he could.
"He'd never look at me that way. I wouldn't deserve it if he did. I barely deserve what's happening right now."
Danny kissed him, long and gentle, letting every soft feeling he felt for Dash trail across the nerves of his mouth, real and tangible. "I think we have very different definitions of what you deserve. I was there, remember? I saw how all of you treated each other six years ago. I think he picked on you just as much as you picked on him."
Danny wished Dash would move his hands, touch him more, make him feel real… more alive.
Dash shook his head, their noses bumping. "Self-defense doesn't count as picking on someone."
"Oh, he did more than defend himself. He pranked you unprovoked many times." Danny mumbled, low, a chuckle building in his throat at old memories. "I think you should tell him, you never know-"
Dash pressed their lips together, coaxing Danny's open and titling his head for a better angle. Danny moaned, completely ready to never speak again in favor of being kissed like this.
Dash's hands trailed up his sides, making him shiver. He brushed them over his chest and up his neck, caressing his cheeks. He really hoped this closet was sound proof; and that the janitor wouldn't need it any time soon.
"What about you?" Dash whispered, pulling away to breathe again. "If Danny does… like me back, where does that leave you and our… arrangement?"
Danny whined at the loss of contact and blinked his eyes open to see Dash staring at him, genuine concern shining in his deep blue eyes. Danny wished he could see his freckles in this light. "I'm a ghost, Dash. I'm sure I'll be okay without… this. You should be with someone like you, you know, alive."
Me, I'm alive. Fenton is alive.
Dash hummed. "I'll think about it. Things with you are easy."
And they're not with me? I can be easy.
"Fighting ghosts to seduce me is easy?" Danny couldn't help but joke when he was nervous, and there wasn't a nerve in him that wasn't jittery and on fire.
Dash laughed, pulling Danny into his lips again. "No, I'm just not as scared to lose you."
Fuck.
Danny surged forward, kissing Dash with every untamed emotions coursing through him. His lips pressing harder and more desperate than before; his hands moving back to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.
He was in trouble.
He liked Dash.
He liked him so much. And if he didn't say anything to him, to Fenton, after this, then he would. Danny would tell him how he felt. Hell, he'd tell him he was Phantom if that's what it took. Whatever it took to tell him he deserved these feelings and they weren't going anywhere. He'd do it.
A light flooded the room. He blinked his eyes open, scary mode activated as they narrowed in annoyance at whoever was barging in.
It was Sam and Tucker.
Fuck, he'd completely forgotten to check in with them after the ghost fight earlier. He pulled away from Dash, laughing nervously. "Sorry, occupied?"
Dash whipped his neck around to stare; how he didn't break it was a mystery. "Um, its not what it looks like?"
Sam's jaw was nearly on the floor and Tucker wasn't even trying to contain his laughter.
"Danny's making out with-"
Sam elbowed him, cutting him off. "Getting cozy with Danny Phantom, Dash?"
Dash sighed. "It's exactly what it looks like."
Danny gently untangled his limbs from Dash's frame and stood, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."
Then he marched over and shoved Sam and Tucker back into the hallway, ushering them down the hall.
Tucker cackled the whole way. "I can't believe we just caught you with Dash's tongue down your throat!"
Danny shoved him. "Quiet! He can still hear you!"
Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "Care to explain the jock you had between your legs?"
Danny hid his face in his hands. "You guys suck." He wanted to launch himself into the sun. "Can we just get out of here before he finds out?"
"Walk of shame! Walk of Shame!" Tucker guffawed.
The only thing stopping him from locking himself in his room for the rest of the semester was the hope beating in his chest.
Dash liked him.
And for now, that was enough to let him handle his friends teasing and questions.
The best comedy bit I've ever seen in a show (from a personal perspective) is in fact, Mr. Lancer swearing in classical literature titles. It's always so perfect for the situation and makes me cackle every time. Whoever thought of that deserves an award.
Just a blog to dump my writing thoughts from the last 15 years on || Pronouns: She/They || Ao3: StarsWhisper https://en.pronouns.page/@Triniti_B
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