#They give me great DannyZay prompts so it was probably them

[banannabethchase]

Dreams Worth Fighting For - also on AO3

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The three of them won their trios match. Danny's never felt better.

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I love them, your honor! Title from Now or Never by Marianas Trench

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Danny skips offstage, his hands grabbing at Zay and Quen as they celebrate. They earned this. They got this. This is the kind of momentum all three of them have needed. Tag titles and the TNT title are just within reach.

Isiah gets a hand all the way around Danny waist and reels him in, planting a bone melting kiss on Danny’s lips that kind of makes him weak in the knees.

“No!” Quen laughs, trying to pull them apart. “No making out!”

“But I want to,” Isiah says, and it’s almost whining.

“You are, like, fifteen feet from the tunnels,” Quen says. He grabs Isiah by the arm and yanks him away. “If you get caught, you are gonna regret it.”

“I won’t!” Isiah says. “Maybe we go out there and fuck in front of everybody in the ring.”

Danny feels his face heat up. “Um.”

“Nope,” Quen says. “Nope. I’m leaving. Go get in trouble yourselves. I’ll go on a singles run.”

“You love me too much to do that!” Isiah yells after him. He grabs at Danny. “So, uh. Backstage?”

Danny kisses him again, gently. “Get your hands off my ass. We’re at work.”

“Get your hands off my waist, we’re at work,” Isiah retorts. “But fine. We’ll be professional as long as Quen is being annoying about it.”

“And I’ll always be annoying about it!” Quen yells.

~

Danny wakes up the next morning curled up in Zay’s arms, the both of them smelling like the sea salt hotel shampoo and lemon body wash. It’s easy, with Isiah. They don’t fight or argue, they don’t compete for the attention of mentors, they don’t throw each other out of hotel rooms. They don’t leave each other when it gets hard.

It’s right. It’s comfortable. It’s safe.

Danny, in a shock of early morning clarity, realizes he is full blown in love with Isiah Cassidy.

“Holy shit.”

Zay mumbles something incoherent as he rolls over and throws an arm around Danny’s waist, yanking him down. “Shut up,” he mumbles. “Let me sleep.”

“Let me freak out about this,” Danny says. He sits up, Zay’s arm flopping across his lap. He loves him. He loves Isiah. He loves the way Zay babbles when he’s had a few too many shots, he loves how he steals the blankets, he loves how he’s bitchy when he hasn’t had coffee, he loves how he gets cuddly when the clock hits ten in public and almost never before then.

“Freak out about what?” Zay blinks the last remnants of dreams from his eyes as he sits up. “Babe, you look like you’re losing your shit. Are you good?”

“I love you,” Danny blurts out.

Zay blinks. “Shit. Really?”

“Oh, fuck you!” Danny says. “Get – let me deal with this.”

“Let you deal with this?” Zay’s face is lit up, almost too gleeful. “I’m having a blast! Let me deal with it!”

“Oh, I fucking hate you,” Danny grumbles. He dives into Zay’s chest, feeling himself shake a little as Zay laughs.

“You just said you love me,” Zay says. “Too late to take it back.”

Danny pulls away and glares. “You said it first.”

“I did.” Zay somehow looks smug. “And you said you weren’t ready to say it back, and now you said it, and I’m just bathing in it, baby.”

“You should say it back, though,” Danny says.

“What,” Zay says, propping himself up on his arm. “You thinking that after we won our match last night and after you said it, now I don’t feel it anymore?”

Danny shrugs, and he hates how he feels comfortable enough in this moment to feel vulnerable. It’s uncomfortable to be comfortable. It feels right and unfamiliar and strange, and he wants it all the time.

“You really think I’m not gonna say it again?” Zay is smiling still, but it’s something softer, something a little less challenging.

Danny shrugs again. He wishes he knew what to say. But he hasn’t actually gotten to this point before. All he knows is he’s been the one close to it. But he’s never been here, where both of them have said it but neither of them are saying it right now.

Quick as a flash, Zay gets on top of Danny and pins him to the bed.

“Hey!”

“Good, you can still talk,” Zay says. “Danny. Garcia. I love you. I think you’re kind of an idiot for ever doubting it, but I love you. And you can say it again if you want, or you can not say it, but either way it’s how I feel.” He leans down and presses a kiss to Danny’s nose. “I’ll say it as many times as you want me to, and I don’t expect you or need you to say it back again if you aren’t ready.”

Danny stares up at him. “But I am.”

Zay’s eyes go soft. “Okay.”

“And I do.”

“I do, too.”

Danny swallows. “Why is it so hard to say it again?”

Zay shrugs and kisses Danny on the nose again, then flops down on top of him. It’s something Danny often calls Starfish Mode, an all encompassing weight of Zay pressing down on him that feels strangely safe. “Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles. “If you’re not ready to say it again, you don’t have to.”

It’s pressure he wants without pressure he hates.

They’re quiet for some time, Zay breathing steadily as he’s curled up on top of Danny, and Danny’s gently petting down Zay’s back.

“Isiah?” he mumbles. He’s secretly hoping Zay fell asleep. He does that sometimes.

Isiah pops his head up, almost nose to nose with Danny. “Yeah?”

“Zay, I love you,” Danny says. He doesn’t know why this is so hard.

Zay leans in and kisses Danny. He expects something firm and demanding, but instead it’s soft and sweet and gentle. Danny sighs into it, feeling a weight off his shoulders and on his chest.

“I love you, too,” Zay murmurs, beaming down at him. “Best few hours of my life.”

“I could make it better,” Danny says, wiggling his eyebrows. He flips them over and pins Zay to the mattress, straddling his hips. “Take off your pants.”

“Can’t,” Zay says. “You’re on top of me.”

“You got a problem with that?”

“Hell no,” Zay says. “Move a little so we can get naked.”

Danny doesn’t take his time as he chucks their pajamas across the room, and their naked bodies are pressed up against each other in seconds. Teeth and lips and smiles on skin, hands roaming and touching to draw out the most intoxicating reactions. Danny adjusts his hips so their dicks slide against each other, and it makes the both of them groan.

“Okay,” Zay laughs, “yeah, it got better. Keep – just like that.”

Danny licks up his hand, eyes locked with Zay, and reaches between them to stroke them together. The whimper and mutter names, and Zay’s rolling his hips in time with Danny’s strokes.

“Fuck,” Zay says, panting. He grabs Danny’s ass to urge him on. “I love you. Danny, I love you.”

Danny can’t quite form words, so he whimpers again and cants his hips one final time to come, crushing his lips to Zay’s mouth. He pulls back when his head stops spinning in time to say, “I love you, Isiah,” and he feels Zay add to the glorious mess between them.

Danny feels like he’s floating as he flops onto the bed beside Zay. He’d tangle their fingers together, but his is kind of gross right now. They both are.

"After all this,” Zay says, beaming. He throws a leg over Danny’s thigh, nuzzling into his neck where there’s the tiniest of bruises blooming as a reminder. “I think I can ride this high to the tag belts, yeah?”

“I know you can,” Danny says. “You and Quen have got this. You’ve pinned the Bucks once. You can pin them again.”

“Promise?” Zay asks.

“Look, you two are more likely to break up than to lose the belts the next time you get a chance.”

Zay pauses. “Oh. Oh, I have an idea.” He sits up, and there’s a weird look in his eye, something Danny isn’t sure he likes. “I gotta go talk to Quen.”

~

Mini Playlist: Now or Never - Marianas Trench Young Blood - The Naked and Famous I Think I'm in Love - Kat Dahlia Ready - Kelly Clarkson