Greta Van Fleet // Oneshots

All For Me // Danny Wagner *SMUT*

There was a sad bitterness when Danny told you: "You get trashed and you flirt. Like, with everyone. Everyone but me, which is pretty ironic." At the stoplight, the red glow illuminated the hardness of his face, everything sharp angles. "It doesn't make me feel very good."

You bit your lip hard, not sure what to say because he wasn't wrong yet again. You'd always been a flirt when you got a few drinks in you–that was how you'd had the confidence to make a move on Danny in the first place and thankfully, blissfully, that drunken night had led to something remarkable. You loved Danny and you didn't really want anyone else, ever. So you told him that as the light turned green and he turned, rolling the window down so you could have some cool, fresh air over your burning face.

"How would you feel if I did that?" Danny asked, his voice raising ever so slightly. "I mean, I've been pretty good at kinda ignoring when you get all handsy with other people. It doesn't matter. But Jake? That crossed a line."

You knew it did. Your face continued to heat with shame thinking about how this could twist your friendship with Jake–with all of them–around in addition to perhaps ruining your relationship. "Don't be mad at him."

Danny shook his head. "I'm not."

Dense silence lasted for the rest of the ride. You rubbed your sleeve over your mouth as if that would erase what happened; you needed water, needed a long shower. When Danny pulled into the parking lot in front of your building, you expected him to just let you go up alone but he followed you out of the car. He walked at your side, matching your pace–every buzz from the weed and alcohol felt obliterated, leaving you awkwardly sober and all-too aware of how much you'd damned yourself.

Your keys felt heavy in your hand as you unlocked the front door and made your way to your own door, the jingling too loud as the key turned and you went in first. You left Danny behind you as you kicked off your shoes and booked it to the kitchen, getting a big glass of water from the tap.

Danny still followed, leaning back on the countertop beside you, arms crossed, and sighed. "It had to be Jake of all people? Come on."

You finished the water and set the glass down hard. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I probably fucked up that friendship forever." You hadn't realized how much of this sort of thing happened when you went out; Danny had every right to be mad and a sharp, splintering fear pierced through you. "Are we breaking up?"

Danny's face turned genuinely incredulous. "What? No. Do you want to?"

"No, oh my god, no." You brought your fingers up to your temples, trying to soothe the headache that had started to grow. "I'm sorry. This is so messed up. I wish I could take it back–all of it."

Danny gave a little huff. "Yeah, same here."

You looked right at him then. Quite a bit had changed in both of your lives since the first time you'd met, but the calming, gentle and genuine soul that was the very essence of Danny was still there. You knew that'd always be there, but even tolerance and forgiveness had limits. "I wouldn't have even managed to, I don't know, get with you without being drunk that night," you told him. "It wasn't random, not like all this has been–with other people, I mean. I didn't know if you were into me at all but I thought, well, why not?"

Danny turned and lifted one hand to your cheek, stroking your skin gently. "And that worked out pretty damn well. It just hurts to see you get all flirty with other people when we go out or go to parties or whatever. It feels like, in those moments, I don't even exist to you."

You reached for his other hand, holding it in your own. "You always exist to me. I'm really sorry. That's such a shitty thing to do to someone–to you."