Danny Johnson, A Precious Boy. Or Not.

H A N G O U T


Jason signed the words as he clicked his locker shut, tilting his head curiously. It was Friday and you had officially made it through one whole week at Ashboro high; After your Tuesday science class with Danny you hadn't spoken a word to him, had hardly even looked at him and that was just fine with you. So far the classes had been generally easy, and a few explanations and pointers from Norman (who was incredibly smart, the tutor-for-hire of the group) kept you right on track for straight A's. 


"Sure, Jay, that sounds great," You and the group had exchanged numbers during lunch and had chattered aimlessly about getting together on the weekend and showing you around what little there was to see in Ashboro. You had taken them up on the offer without hesitation- sitting around the house listening to classical music had grown to be just a little dull, and a good outing with your new friends sounded spectacular. 


I L L T E X T


With a big thumbs up and a stellar smile you bid Jason your adieu and begin your skate home. You had seen Danny and Amanda hopping onto their motorcycles on your way out, chugging away with roaring engines and belting music from a Bluetooth speaker as they retreated; the clouds that had been building up on the horizon were pressing in closer now, casting the streets in a pale grey light and blanketing you with the early scent of petrichor. You moved languidly and surveyed the streets, internally commenting on the prettiest houses or the places you think would be nice to stop in at. There was a little diner, one of those places you would see on the side of the highway during a vacation and stop for a quick stack of pancakes, and you put that onto your to-see list. Your dad had mentioned this diner a few nights before, saying that he had stopped by for lunch one day and met the girl who owned it. He said she was a total sweetheart. Sooner or later, despite your slower pace, you arrived on your block and spotted the house you were rapidly warming up to come into view; Billy sat on his front porch yet again, Claude seated, unmoving, in his lap and rumbling like the engine of a car. Or a motorcycle. You wave at Billy who answers back with his own shy, snappy wave, and then you breeze up your front steps and through your front door.


"Helloooo!" You cup a hand beside your mouth and bellow through the household, dropping down onto the entryway carpet to tug at your laces, "I'm home!" The house seemed to be sleeping, dark and empty with no otherworldly classical notes drifting like ghosts from the basement. Just like you always did when you first arrived home, you wandered for the kitchen to scrounge around for a snack and instead found a spiral notepad laid on the counter with your dads messy chicken-scratch scrawled upon the front in glittery red ink. "Well hi there," You hum to yourself, pulling out your phone as you approached the note to take advantage of the empty house and lack of music, "What've you got to say to me?" You throw on your favourite playlist and set your phone aside, picking up the book and spinning not-so-elegantly on your heel as you read it. 'Out for the evening, buying more green paint and seeing the city! Don't starve your brother, please, and pick up some mushroom soup at the store if you can :D' You toss the notepad aside once more and pull open the fridge, scanning the contents. Throughout the course of your week it had been nearly emptied, all that was left being one more cereal-bowl full of milk, some oranges, and a half a jar of rosé sauce. Looks like tonight's meal plan was pasta. Your music turned itself down to make way for the ding of a notification, so you hurried to pull the jar of sauce from it's place and turn to set it on the counter to look at your phone. It was Jason texting, just as he had promised he would- and, convenient, he had made a group chat. 


Jason- Ok, hangout plans. I say we take (Y/N) to the forest!


Norman- Even if it might rain?


You- Ooooh, the forest? Sounds spooky. I'm in, rain or shine


Brahms- I'll bring the big umbrella


Brahms- Like the pretty black one. If you meet me at the trailhead I'll walk you out there if it does rains! I know how much you hate the wet, Norman


Jason- Yes and once we're out we have the canopy too. I'll go early and get it set up. Everyone in?


Norman- Yes, I'll come :)


You- Hell yeah! Give me directions?


Brahms- I can pick you up if you'd like, I don't want you to catch a cold skating home


Michael- Sure.


With that, you texted Brahms your address and he told you he'd be there at 6:00 o'clock, meaning you had three hours to run to the store for the mushroom soup (and maybe some snacks for your friends) and to whip up some pasta for your brother. Digging through the kitchen drawers for a pen (black ink, not as fun as your dad) you scribbled down your own memo for August to find when he returned home, 'Gone to store, do your homework'. The store was only a few blocks away, so you didn't bother with your skates, instead just opting for your regular shoes. You stole your wallet and then your keys from your backpack pocket to lock the door on your way out and went to wave to Billy but he was gone, leaving Claude on the steps alone. A shame, really. You were going to ask Billy if he wanted to tag along with you and your friends; you felt a little bad for the boy. He seemed lonely. As soon as you came into view the cat crawled to his paws and came scurrying in your direction, pausing at the end of the pathway to the sidewalk and sitting down proud. His silky fur looked fresh and new, as if he had just recently been given a bath. 


"Hey there, kitty," You call out, sinking slowly to your knees after approaching and reaching out a hand to scratch behind his ears. Claude begins to rumble again as he rubs his cheek along your hand, and you can't help but smile. "Sorry I can't stick around, baby," You giggle as he looks up at you as if he understands that you're leaving, "But I've got some errands to run. Stay cute, little dude." You pet along the length of his back once more before you finally stand, smiling down at him and then setting off for the grocery store. A part of you expected Claude to follow for a while, but he just sat and watched as you grew more and more distant. In the less than ten minutes you'd been inside your home, the clouds had pressed in further and that rainy smell had doubled in strength; a stiff, warm wind had begun to whine through the streets, warm and refreshing and clean. The rain in New York had been nothing but miserable, wet and loud and cold. The rainy scent had always been laced with the stench of the city but here- well, here the scent was nearly alive. Eight blocks of hasty walking later (as nice as the rain was going to be, you weren't particularity interested in walking back home in it with grocery bags) you had arrived at the place you were looking for, a family-run grocer with a cute red-gingham patterned storefront awning and big wooden baskets of produce sold by a young girl out front. She smiled at you as you approached, a book in her hands, and you waved in return and pushed through the front doors into the cool interior. 


The place was pretty big for a homegrown business run by a set of parents, a grandfather and three children (they were all shown on a family portrait right upon entry) with twenty aisles of food stored on nice wooden shelves, four of which for frozen goods and two for bread and other baked treats. Little signs hung from the ceiling in each one, reading out the aisle number and it's contents loud and clear. The aisle with the soup was easy to find, aisle 12, so that's where you went first. This was only your second time in this place and just because the desired aisle was easy to find didn't mean finding the exact can of soup was going to be the same. There were more cans of soup than you had thought there would be, even kinds and brands that you had never heard of before. On the eye-level shelves were the more common soups, tomato and cream of broccoli, but just above and below were things like cheeseburger soup or Thai coconut. You extend one finger to skim along the surfaces of the cans, reading the labels to yourself under your breath as you searched for the cream of mushroom- how hard could it be? That wasn't exactly an uncommon soup, was it? You read 'chicken noodle', 'beef', 'lentil', and then happen upon a row of cans that was entirely sold out. You turn to the price tag instead, which is pasted to the edge of the shelf, and see that, yes, your lucky day, it's the Campbell's mushroom soup that is sold out. 


"Damnit," You huff, and take a step back to scan over the other titles in search of an alternative. The wooden shelves are stacked seven high, with bulk items (both for restocking and purchasing in larger quantities) on the top one just barely out of your reach; that's why you let out a frustrated groan at the sight of more mushroom soup all the way up there, the plastic covering already open with one or two cans missing. You move closer to the shelf again, glaring up at the can as it taunted you from it's throne so high above your head. Determination pumps through you and you reach your arm up, straining your neck backwards to watch as your fingers hardly clear even the lip of the shelf, let alone be able to reach into the box and pull out a can. You rise onto the tips of your toes, grunting with the effort and the strain of your muscles; now, your fingers ghost the very base of the cardboard but it's pretty obvious that you won't be able to do any better than that. With another heavy sigh and a string of curses that would put a sailor to shame, you drop back to your feet and pull your lip between your teeth to weather at the skin. 


"Need a hand, sweetheart?" Your breath rushes out of you as you spin on your heel, surprise and irritation coursing through your veins alongside the startled pain that shocks through your chest. "Looks like you're havin' a tough time, huh?" Danny has one arm crossed over his chest, the other rested so that he can rest his fist against his mouth to half-cover the amused grin that he's wearing. He has a dark mustard yellow turtleneck on underneath his usual leather jacket, more colour on him than you'd ever seen before. You see one thumbnail is painted a vibrant pink. You wish you had the resolve to tease him back for one of these things but your rational brain had been startled out of your mind thanks to his sudden appearance, seemingly out of nowhere. Maybe it had been your struggle for the can, but you hadn't even heard him approach. 


"No, I'm not- I'm doing just fine. All good." Your hands ball up into fists at your sides and you force on a wide smile to try and cover up the falsity of your words- it fails. Danny's eyebrows shoot up and for a moment he picks at the pink thumbnail with his teeth. Then, he snickers and lets his hands fall to his sides. 


"This is your definition of fine? What, you're gonna grow an extra inch right here and now?" Danny masks his face with false wonder, placing his hands on his cheeks and letting his jaw drop. "Oh my god, you can do that? Is it a superpower? Or are you, like, a circus magician?" You roll your eyes, letting your shoulders sag and he drops his arms to rub at his forehead with the back of his hand, laughter barking out of him in steady, mocking bursts.


"You're real funny, Dan. Thanks for nothing, you can, uh- you can go, now." You don't wait for him to take you up on your offer. Instead, you spin on your heel, more determined now than ever to get this stupid can. You don't hear him leaving and, well, that's fine with you- you're just getting the chance to prove him wrong right in front of his own face. With a stony expression you plant your foot on the second shelf, springing up on it to plant your other foot on the third one. 


"Woah, that's-" Danny tries to speak through his laughter and you hear his words die out as the next two seconds play out in something akin to a wicked slow motion. Your foot reaches the third shelf just as your left hand plants itself on the edge of the fifth shelf for support. As your searching foot attempts to set itself down, you finds that it's obstructed; thanks to the rows of cans there isn't enough room. That foot lands on thin air, plunging downwards and throwing your entire body off balance. You let a curse roll off your tongue as you begin to fall, tightening your grip on the shelf just in front of your face and hearing the sickening snap of wood. As panic flares in your stomach you scramble for something, anything to catch you as the gravity tugs you downwards but all you manage to grab is one of the many cans that has you in this mess in the first place. That handhold doesn't pull through either. As you tumble backwards, everything still painfully slow and much too fast, the shelf second to the top spits out a spray of wood, the cans all sinking in alongside it and falling, heavy, onto the shelf below. That one snaps too, and you know that this mess isn't over yet. Finally, your breath returns to your lungs and you let out a cry, the sudden sound snapping everything back into real time. 


"Fuck!" Wind sails past you as you fall, watching the shining devil cans flying after you to collide with your head and your chest and your arms to break a few bones or give you a concussion, and you expect the heavy impact of your back and head cracking against the linoleum any second now before, hopefully, a can gets you lucky and hits you hard enough to just black you out. You try to pivot, to see the floor situation but you try a little too hard and now you've set a course to land heavily right on your arm. A shout rips from your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for pain and impact- Your back collides first with something soft, your head knocking back into something a little harder. You hear Danny hiss out in pain as your skull snaps into his jaw but that's the least of anyone worries as you're tugged backwards and to the side before your feet can even slam down on the ground. You hear a monumental crash, the deafeningly musical chime of metal cracking and splitting and you let your eyes spring open again. The cans, hundreds of them, are sliding off the shelves and coming down right where you were moments before. In his hasty escape, Danny's feet grow tangled with yours and he falls backwards and takes you with him, landing on his ass and scrambling the last few feet away with you in his arms. The rest of the cans slide and fall to the ground, splitting and spilling their contents as you and Danny try to recover from your near-death experience. The rest of the cans roll to a stop, and silence settles for a brief second before you have the nerve to speak up.


"Holy shit," You gasp out the words, sinking backwards without thinking of your actions. You melted against Danny's front, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder as the adrenaline finished it's unwelcome course through your veins and came to a sluggish halt. For a brief second the world is still, entirely unmoving, and then people are responding the noise that the whole situation had obviously caused. A woman rounds the corner, pushing a shopping cart with a young girl, no more than six, in the child seat. She had black hair tied back into a messy bun with one strand curled and dangling in front of her face. She was pretty, with evident freckles dotting her cheeks, but the thing that stood out the most about her were her golden eyes. Danny shifts, uncomfortable, and you go rigid as realization hits you in the back of the throat. Right. This is Danny Johnson and you hate him and you're sitting in his lap and that is his mother right there. Your face goes bright red, matching the growing pools of tomato soup staining the floor like too-red blood, and you push away from your spot to spring to your feet. You're about to whip around, to apologize or maybe to storm away but Danny's mother parked her cart and daughter hastily aside after assessing the situation and dropped to kneel beside him. 


"Oh my boy are you okay? Oh my poor boy you're not hurt are you-" 


"Momma, mom stop I-" Danny's mother grabbed at his arms, put her hands on his cheeks and tilted his head around to search for damage. Her eyes were wild and frightened and you could see that they were glistening with pooling tears. Danny tried to tear his face away as she placed a kiss on his forehead, catching your gaze and turning red in his own turn. 


"What happened? I heard the crash and I knew you had gone this way and it was like intuition I just knew you were a part of it all and I was so afraid you'd been hurt or that you were bleeding and-" 


"Mom." Danny caught her hands as they continued to pat him down, gentle as if he were afraid he might break her. She cut herself off and shrunk into herself, muttering out a quick sorry that you almost didn't hear. The embarrassment in Danny's eyes evaporated at once and was replaced by a gnawing guilt. "I'm okay. I promise." Then, he let go of her wrists and pulled her into a tight embrace. His cheeks were glowing a low red as he held her close but he swallowed up his pride to take care of his mother nonetheless. A moment passed and then his mother pushed away, wiping at her eyes with the heels of her hand. Danny stood first and then extended a hand to her, helping her to her feet and patting her shoulder comfortingly. "All good, yeah?" The smile he wore was tender and unlike anything you'd seen him wear before. As she nodded, so did he, and then he turned to the little girl in the cart. "How 'bout you, Dahlia? You didn't get startled like momma did, did you?" Dahlia, Danny's little sister, had the same pitch black hair and yellow eyes that they all seemed to have in common. Her hair was shoulder length, smooth and black with a pale green headband tucked behind her ears that matched the green striped shirt underneath her dark blue overalls. 


"I don't get sca'ed," She smiled in a way that ghosted the face of her mother, unable to entirely pronounce the 'r' sound, "You don' got any inj'ries?" Dahlia's little yellow eyes turned to you and she frowned, her round cheeks puffing slightly with the action, "What 'bout them?" Everyone was looking at you again. An immediate awkward tension sprawled between you and Danny and you opened your mouth to speak, to reassure the little girl that you were okay other than being a little startled when an employee, the father of the business, came hurrying around the corner with his brows creased.


"Is anyone hurt? What happened here?" You took a few steps forwards to face the man and explain yourself, how you broke the shelves, when Danny forced his way ahead and in front of you with his quick tongue and quicker thinking. 


"I don't know what happened, sir. I really am sorry but the shelf, it just... collapsed. My friend here," He motioned to you and you hid the shock itching it's way onto your face, "Was just reaching for a can when they heard the snapping. We're lucky I was quick enough to get them out of the way, or else they really could have been hurt." The man stopped to look over the damage, scanning the mess on the floor and the splintered ends of the broken shelving. He clicked his tongue and turned to you with an apologetic frown. 


"I'm so sorry for this. The shelves are old, and I guess it was only a matter of time before one of them gave in. If none of you are hurt we're more than happy to give you your items on the house if it prevents any legal action." Danny looked over at you, allowing you the answer on this one. You clear your throat, fighting for words. You really aren't as quick on your feet as Danny seems to be. 


"Yeah, uh- Yes, we're all good. And that would be lovely, too." 


"Alright. I'm sorry again, I'll have someone clean this up right away and then we'll see you at the front. Please take your time." With that, the man turned and hurried away, leaving you and Danny's family alone again.


"The wood must have been rotted or something," Danny's mother rubs at her eyes and then lets her hands drop and turns to you with a radiant smile. "I'm so glad Daniel was able to get you out of the way. He's always been so wonderful. How do you two know each other?" 


"Oh, we really don't know each-" Danny tried to speak, to cut you off and keep you from interacting with the angel of a woman that seemed to have given birth to him. How, you really aren't certain. She's his polar opposite. 


"We go to school together. I only just moved here and he's been so accommodating." You grin and look over at him, tilting your head to one side to show off as much false gratitude as possible. You really wanted to ham all this up just to humiliate him. As far as you were concerned, him saving you from one hell of a bump still didn't make the two of you equal for how difficult he's been these last days.


"Oh, really? That's why I don't recognize you. What's your name?" Danny's mother takes your hand in hers, giving it a gentle shake.


"I'm (Y/N), it's a real pleasure to meet you. I can see where Daniel gets his never ending kindness." Dahlia lets out a giggle, seeming to have caught on to your teasing as Danny covers his face and turns his back to you. Still, his mother is only smiling even brighter, eyes glowing gold with pride. 


"That's my precious boy," She let go of your hand and turned to him, attempting to bundle him up in her arms. Danny was at least a head taller now that the two were standing side by side, and yet as she circled him in her arms he shrunk down and sank into them, his gaze glued to the floor and his face shining red. "I'm proud of you, Dan. So so proud, always."


"Yeah, momma, I know you are but I really should-" His mother stepped away, immediately getting the memo and nodding her head, turning back to you.


"Right, right- we shouldn't hold your friend up, should we? I'll let you two-" A rumble of thunder pierced through the walls, and all heads turned instinctively up towards the sky in search of the accompanying lightning before remembering you were all indoors. With thunder comes rain, and with rain comes a miserable walk home. Danny's mother frowned and turned back to you. "Do you have a ride home? I'd hate for you to be left in the rain." 


"Oh, I walk but it's okay, I walk fast and-"


"No, no I can't have that, you'll catch a cold. Can I drive you home? Danny doesn't mind, and neither does Dahlia. It would be my pleasure, really." Faced with this mothers unadulterated kindness you couldn't say no. With a hidden sigh and a grateful smile you nod your head in agreement and shoot Danny a rapid glance that's meant to mean some form of sorry. "Good, good. I'll let you do your shopping, dear. Please, don't feel rushed or anything like that. We've got no plans. Now, Daniel," She turns around to face him, placing her hand on his arm, "You stay here and help out your friend, okay? I'll meet you both back at the checkout."


"Thank you, Mrs. Johnson. I really appreciate it." She waved a hand dismissively, smiling warmly at you one last time before hurrying away with Dahlia to finish up their shopping. And then there were two. You stand, awkward, for a whole second before even risking another look at Danny. With his mother (and all embarrassment that comes along with mothers) gone he had returned, somewhat, to his usual self. He stood tall with a blank expression save for the last traces of blush on his face. "I-" Your voice dies, you swallow hard, and then you try again, "I'm sorry for all this. Obviously, I would want this to have gone any other way if I could change that, but." You shrug. 


"It's, uh, it's all good. Fine. What... what soup do you need?" For a second Danny lets his gaze fall, and then he lifts it again and wears a tight smile that might be a forced smirk. 


"The cream of mushroom, please. Thanks." As he picks his way through the soup spill and, humiliatingly easy, plucks the can from the untouched topmost shelf you wish that your dad had never even sent you to this stupid store. He extends it to you after jumping from the splash zone once more, and then motions for you to lead the way. "Do you know where the chips are? And, like, soda?" 


"Party snacks?" He quirks a brow, "'course I do. Come on." Instead, he leads the way, stuffing his hands down into his pockets and avoiding all eye contact. He wasn't smirking any more but it seems he still wasn't done with the teasing. "What's got you buying party snacks? You don't seem like the... party type." With your single can of soup in your hands you shrug one shoulder and stick close to his side as he guides you.


"Just hanging out with my friends." 


"'Friends'? And who would they be, other than the Bates kid?" Danny takes a sharp right turn into an aisle laden with exactly what you're looking for. You beeline for your favourite chips, and then a couple other miscellaneous bags. 


"Brahms, Michael and Jason. Maybe Billy, too- but not the Billy you know. My neighbor Billy." Danny let out a snicker and then cut himself off, wiping at his mouth with his hand and turning to look away again.


"If you don't mean Loomis do you mean Lenz?" 


"What?" 


"Last names. If not Billy Loomis, then is it Billy Lenz?"


"Oh- I guess so, I don't know for sure. He's got brown hair, if that helps, and I've only ever seen him wearing sweaters. Does that sound like Lenz?" In response, Danny nods, and you can see the ghost of judgement in his eyes. You brush the irritation aside and shrug again, arms filled with chip bags now. "You don't have to like them. Grab me a case of soda, please. Coke or something." Neither of you speak again. You move for the front, getting your groceries for free thanks to the mishap, and meet Danny's mother just outside the building shielded by the gingham awning. 


"Perfect timing, we just got out too." Danny's mother smiled, taking one step out into the rain and then pausing and retreating back under the safety of the fabric overhead. "Before we go running, I have something to ask you, (Y/N). What do you think of parties?" You glance over at Danny, who looks, frankly, horrified. "I haven't heard Daniel talk about you and I just wanted to know if he invited you to the one he's having tomorrow evening for one of his other friends' birthday. Amanda Young? Do you know her?"


"Yeah, I do. I really don't know if I should come, I don't know her very well."


"Oh, but it would mean so much to Danny and I! I'm sure you and Amanda would get along great, too! Why don't you give it a try? I remember when I first moved here as a little girl, I just would have loved an opportunity like this." Yet again, Danny's mother wore a smile that you just could not say no to. With a heavy sigh you scratched at the back of your neck and agreed with a curt,


"Yeah, sure. I'll stop by if I can." Danny's mother let out a happy sound, turning to him with her brilliant gaze. 


"Why don't you give them our address and the time?" It seems Danny couldn't say no to her either, which didn't come to you as much of a surprise. Even guys like him are allowed to love their moms to hell and back. 


"Fine, yeah. I'll do it in the car. Let's just-" He sucked in a breath, realizing he was getting short with her. "Let's get home as soon as we can, so we can get started on dinner. And," He glares at you, a silent 'Do not make fun of me.' and then the mean face dissipates and he turns to Dahlia, "I think you've got some new pretty nail polish with my name on it!" The little girl, who you now realize was holding a bottle of pastel purple, nodded her head and grinned from ear to ear. Gently pushing his mother aside, Danny took the shopping cart and moved into the rain without hesitation, headed for wherever his mother had parked. You followed behind, shopping bags in each hand, dreading having to go to a party thrown by no one other than Danny Johnson.


(A/N): I. LOVE. DANNY'S. MOM. AND. SISTER. THEY ARE SIMPLY THE MOST WONDERFUL PEOPLE ON THE PLANET AND YOU'D BETTER TELL ME IF YOU LIKE THEM TOO. We get some cool party scenes soon, even if they are a little cliché. I usually try to stray away from things that are cliché but I mean, it's a romance novel and holy hell if these tropes aren't cute as fuck. What do you all think of this chapter? I think I really like it, actually!

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