There For You (Hollywood Undead fic, sick!Danny)

[ICan'tThinkOfAnything]

Author's Note:

Hey there! For those of you who don't know, Hollywood Undead is a six-member American rap-rock band that I am currently obsessed with. This story will have no romance in it, although if you want you can tilt your head and squint. Mentions of alcohol and some crude language. If you guys like this, please let me know. This is my first legitimate story, and to be honest I'm terrified. Have fun reading! (The formatting got a bit screwed up, sorry!)

(Also, in my Google Drive this doc was labeled "Like oh my God, is that Charlie Scene?" If you get that reference, you have earned a virtual cookie.)

Chapter One

Johnny hears the door of the tour bus slam open and immediately knows who it is. He sets down the book he’s been reading and mentally prepares himself for the onslaught of drunken males he’s about to be assaulted with.

Normally, Johnny is just as much of an obnoxious drunk as the rest of the band, but it’s only when he’s sober does he realize what loud, irritating fools they are when intoxicated. It’s sort of interesting to watch, when it’s not annoying enough to make him want to pitch himself off a bridge into two feet of water.

“Hey, Johnny,” Dylan greets him solemnly. Normally, Dylan would be drunk out of his mind with the rest of them, but he’s sick and has enough sense to stay sober.

“Having fun?” Johnny grins, knowing it’ll irritate Dylan.

“Oh, yeah. L- hi’iistu!” He pauses to turn away and sneeze into his clenched fist (earning a slightly belated “God bless you,” from Danny). He sniffs and says, “Lots of it.”

Johnny smirks at him. “Glad to hear that.”

Danny stumbles forwards and nearly collapses on Johnny’s lap. “Johnny,” He says in a half-whine, half-sing song voice. Charlie laughs and says, “Have fun with him.”

Danny’s known for being extremely cuddly and affectionate when drunk. He will usually grasp the human closest to him and hug them like there’s no tomorrow (the band rarely complains, though, because Danny’s drunken self loves to give back massages).

Johnny rolls his eyes and allows Danny to affectionately nuzzle his knee from his position on the ground.

Dylan coughs into his fist and says, “I’m hittin’ the hay. Have fun dealing with them.”

“As much fun as you had at the bar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Johnny grins while Dylan says, “By the way, I think Danny’s catching something. He’s been sneezing a lot.”

The bass guitarist groans and says, “Great, now everyone’s gonna get sick.”

Dylan shrugs and walks down the narrow hallway, presumably to his bunk.

Johnny sighs and turns to face Danny, who is still cuddling his leg. His hair is ruffled and he looks paler than normal.

“C’mon, sit up like an actual person,” Johnny says as he helps Danny onto the couch, unsurprised when he immediately latches onto him. Johnny groans and shrugs out of Danny’s grip, much to the vocalist’s disappointment. As much as Johnny is willing to tolerate Danny’s clinginess, he’s not in the mood for it. The only reason he wasn’t out drinking is because he was tired as heck and didn’t want to deal with this sort of stuff.

Danny instead attempts to kiss Johnny on the cheek, which ends up with him nearly falling off the couch. Johnny snorts and pulls Danny up by the shoulders. Danny grins at him, sniffing and wiping his nose on his wrist.

In a moment of overwhelming maternal instinct, a series of words that should never be associated with Johnny, the said bassist reaches behind him and grabs a handful of tissues from the box on the table and presses them against Danny’s narrow nose. “Blow.”

This isn’t something that happens often- or ever, for that matter- so Johnny is caught off-guard when Danny isn’t caught off-guard and follows Johnny’s order without a moment of hesitation, blowing wetly. Johnny cringes, thoroughly grossed out, and makes a mental note to never do this again.

Danny’s still swaying slightly from the alcohol and Johnny has to put his other hand on Danny’s shoulder to steady him. He wipes Danny’s nose and can’t help but wonder why this feels so natural. Sure, he’s done it to his daughter a million times. But a full-grown man?

Whatever. Johnny’s not in the mood for thinking. He chucks the tissues in the general direction of the waste basket and leans back into the couch while Danny straddles him, wrapping his arms around Johnny and nuzzling his neck.

“Why weren’t you out with us?” Danny’s voice develops a slight whine when he’s drunk that is somehow both adorable and irritating at the same time. His dark eyes stare into Johnny’s.

“I was tired,” Johnny shrugs. He’s actually drained and is having trouble keeping his eyes open.

“Sure, whatever,” Danny mutters, cuddling closer to Johnny.

“Get off me, you’re sick,” Johnny says, but he makes no effort to push Danny off.

“‘m not sick.”

“Dylan said you’re catching his cold.”

“Dylan said you’re full of crap.”

“Dylan said go kill yourself.”

From the back of the bus, a voice says, “Dylan said shut the hell up, I’m trying to sleep!”

Johnny snorts and Danny giggles drunkenly, peppering Johnny’s face and neck with short, small kisses.

“Quit kissing me, you’re sick,” Johnny grunts as he attempts to break the contact between him and Danny.

Danny suddenly sits back on Johnny’s lap, turning away from his slightly. His eyes close and his lips part slightly. For a moment, he inhales slowly, then sucks in a sudden breath and sneezes forcefully into his hand. “HeeeEESCHOOhh!”

Johnny’s surprised that the sneeze didn’t wake everyone up. “Bless,” He says as Danny sniffs and wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

That one sneeze seems to have taken all the energy out of Danny, and he cuddles close to Johnny. In thirty seconds, he’s out cold and snoring louder than Dylan.

Johnny sighs and wraps an arm around Danny. This’ll be fun to deal with in the morning.

[IveGotRedHair]

I can't say I know this band (I'll have to look them up) but I really like this fic. More please?

[ICan'tThinkOfAnything]

I can't say I know this band (I'll have to look them up) but I really like this fic. More please?

Definitely I'll have a new chapter up as soon as I can. Thank you for replying, it made my day

[ICan'tThinkOfAnything]

A/N: Wow this took me an embarrassingly long time, sorry sorry sorry. Also, I apologize about the low sneeze rate/my shitty spellings.

Nothing much to say other than I'm not proud of this. This isn't my usual writing style- normally, I'm much more loose and relaxed when writing and the story is more dialogue-based and humorous. Not sure what happened here. Warning for swearing. Thanks for reading!

Johnny always wakes up early, so it’s no surprise to him when he wakes

up and the bus is silent (except for Dylan and Danny snoring). He must have fallen asleep on the couch; he’s still there and his neck hurts. He sits up, rubbing the back of his neck, and realizes that Danny’s no longer sprawled across his lap- something Johnny’s rather thankful for.

Just as he begins to enjoy the peace and quiet, Dylan walks in the room. “Hey, Johnny.” He says as he sprawls out on the couch across from Johnny.

“Morning,” Johnny greets him. “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah. Just a sore throat and stuffy nose by this point,” Dylan says. “How’s Dannyboy?”

Johnny shrugs. Dylan nods in response and they lay in peaceful silence.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Alright. It took me a while to fall asleep because of your goddamn snoring.”

Dylan simply flips Johnny off and says, “Jorel got totally shitfaced last night. It was hilarious to watch.”

Before Johnny can reply, Danny enters the room. His dark hair is ruffled-looking and he’s paler than usual with dark circles beneath his eyes. “Morning,” He says quietly.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets him.

“You look like shit,” Dylan pipes up. Danny flips him off and walks over to the couch, shoving Dylan’s legs off and curling up in the corner. “Geez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bus.”

“Just hungover,” Danny mutters, but they all know it’s not true. Dylan struggles upright and presses the back of his hand to Danny’s forehead. He doesn’t have a fever, which is good. Their next performance is in two days, and none of them can afford to get sick at this point.

Johnny raises an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

“I think you’re full of shit.”

“Guess who doesn’t give a fuck?” Danny grins and points at himself. Normally, this type of banter would make Johnny smile, but right now he has to make sure that Danny isn’t lying.

“We’ve got a performance in two days. If you’re not feeling well, tell us, because we can’t have you sick at the concert.” He says, his voice serious.

“I’m fine, just tired.” Danny reassures Johnny, who isn’t convinced.

At that moment, J-Dog enters the room. “‘Sup, bitches,” He says, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and opening it.

“You’re surprisingly chipper today,” Dylan comments. “Kinda expected you to have a bigger hangover than this,”

J-Dog snorts and says, “Please. I don’t get hangovers.”

Immediately, everyone begins bombarding Jorel with stories about stupid stuff he’s said or done while hungover or times they’ve taken care of him when hungover. He holds his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, you win.” He says, taking a drink from the plastic bottle. “Dipshits,” He mutters under his breath. Dylan hears him and chuckles.

“Uh, you okay, Danny?” J-Dog asks, raising an eyebrow at Danny, who is leaned forwards slightly, his shoulders tense.

Danny nods and holds up one finger, signaling for them to wait. His eyes are half-shut and his lips parted slightly. Abruptly, he sneezes into his elbow. “Hii’ETCHU!”

“Jeez, bless you,” Jay laughs. Dylan blesses him as well, but Johnny simply narrows his eyes at Danny.

“I thought you said you weren’t sick,”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m not sick…” Danny says, raising an eyebrow at Johnny. The two have a stare-down for a moment.

Danny looks away first, relaxing into the couch and averting his gaze. There’s a brief moment of silence before the quiet talking resumes.

Then, about a minute later-

“Hi’TCHU!”

“Bless, man,” Charlie, who walked into the room at that exact moment, says, glancing in Danny’s direction.

“Thanks,” Danny replied, sniffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve. “What?!” He exclaims, meeting Johnny’s accusing eyes.

“Nothing, nothing. Please continue telling me how you’re not sick.”

“I only sneezed,” Danny says, his voice slightly defensive. “Relax, man.”

Johnny opens his mouth to reply, but the driver sticks his head in the back and says they’re arrived. Time for rehearsal.

[IveGotRedHair]

Yay I'm glad you're back! I'm enjoying this so please continue

[ToxicTearsHU]

Is there going to be more? :3 it's very good!

[ICan'tThinkOfAnything]

Thank you I'm currently writing a new chapter. Between school and lack of inspiration, it's taking a long time. Sorry about that!

[ToxicTearsHU]

Ok cool!

[ICan'tThinkOfAnything]

Sorry about the lack of updates. I'm currently in the hospital for an eating disorder, so...yeah. I'll try to get something up if I can.